Dateline: Early June. Abbottsford, British Columbia.







An odd place to start, and an odd place to pick up a contact. I have several friends in this town, about an hour east of Vancouver, and one of the city's most white communities. Several of my judo-playing friends had suggested that I hook up with one of their counterparts before I went to Kosovo. His name was Enver - "He just showed up one day and started kicking all of our asses," one said. So I headed out there one evening, after emailing Enver, ready to meet up with him and find out what he knows.

Enver's not an immediately threatening looking fellow; nor does he aim to be. Quite friendly, very open about discussing his role in Kosovo and how he got here. It struck me as odd that he arrived in Canada after everything had been said and done in Kosovo, not long after the conflict had been resolved. In effect, he had stayed to fight the war, and left shortly afterward.

My own knowledge of the region, of course, was rather slim compared to his own, as he had spent the better part of his life there. Still, he was happy to talk, to discuss Kosovo policy, and provide me with some contacts. He also requested that I bring his university transcript back for him, which I gladly accepted to do.

It's interesting who you meet in small towns around here - Enver was a battalion commander in the KLA, and was also very aware of the social and political factors that forced the Kosovars and the international community into the ensuing conflict. It struck me that he was no grunt who was simply interested in killing people, but someone who was fully aware of the political forces behind what happened in Kosovo and what was being done to affect those political forces. After a few beers he offered to call his family and email his friends there, to show me around. I thanked him for his help and promised to meet up with him after I returned.

A week later I hopped on a plane after another boring night shift at the hangar, and arrived in Vienna the next day, with several sets of reduced rate tickets in my hand. I stared at the departures schedule, wondering which one I would be forced to use. Would I land in Pristina, thus making it an easy entrance? The Pristina flights are often full. Would I have to go to Skopje, in Macedonia, where there has been rebel activity within close proximity of the airport, thus implying some really expensive cab rides to the Kosovo border? Or would I revisit my old friend Albania, in Tirana, and take another not-so-safe route up to Kukes in Albania, and cross the allegedly "Dangerous" border between that country and Kosovo? I held my tickets like a hand of cards, and walked up to the counter, ready to see which one I would have to play.....



Onwards



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* A full account of my visit to this country is available in my yet to be published book, Means To An Exit. If you are an agent or publisher and would like to receive an outline and manuscript, please Contact Me.