"Ride the range all the day'till the first fading light,
be with my western girl
round the fire, oh, so bright.
I'd be the Indians friend,
let them live to be free,
ridin' into the sunset,
I wish I could be."
— Jeff Lynne, 1977
And I won't sit here and pretend that Slick was a saint during his presidency. I'll be the first to admit that my boy was about as wild as they come. But like most who stayed up past their bedtime watching Arsenio's original unexpectedly popular and historical 11:30 pm broadcast, I was quickly taken in by the presidential candidate's intellect, charm, good looks and musical skills. And though many viewed the former president's Arsenio Hall appearance as simply a well calculated measure to win votes from the minority and young, at age of 20, I could care less about these possible justifiable accusations. I was far too enchanted by a dude of his political stature taking a chill on my all-time favorite talk show host's sofa — which had adorned the likes of many of my most cherished entertainers of the time, such as Tupac Shakur, New Edition, and De La Soul, just to name a few who weren't getting any air time over at Carson's crib.
Well, it had been quite a while since I'd thought of the many career accomp-lishments achieved by America's first Black president. And to be quite honest, I'd almost completely forgotten about a lot of them — which is likely due to the hordes of media attention that was paid to the admittedly disappointing aforementioned scandal and the more recent, yet deserving, media attention towards the former First Lady, wife Hillary.
However, in recent times, the shrouded memories of my hero's accomplishments would soon unravel after a much memorable visit to a small, but highly contentious, region located in the southeastern part of Europe, where I'd discover some pretty cool gratitude toward my homeboy. Here's how it all went down...
There was only a week left before school was out at the American English Academy, one of the three American schools in Sofia where I've been teaching art and dance for the past year, when me, Sarah and our good friend Joe — who you might recall from some previous episodes, most notably Episode 16, when he did a wonderful job driving us through most of old Yugoslavia — decided to plan a quick weekend away from an abnormally chilly June in Sofia.
After our good times in The Republic of Macedonia that occurred just a couple weeks before during the previous Episode, we were pretty stoked to explore more of the Balkan states. And being that there was only three unvisited states and one region left on our Balkan travel list, which included Serbia (that we'd only driven through) Slovenia, Albania and Kosovo, a self-declared independent state, and the fact that we only had a weekend's time to travel, we decided it would be best to explore Kosovo — a proper choice compared to the other three that were further away from Sofia.
Speaking of distance, Joe, who also goes by the alias Speed, was pretty generous in lending out his expertise driving skills, again. This also gave Miss Xena Bubalechka a well deserved break from the road since Sarah and I had been running her engine ragged in the past few weeks. So, early Saturday morning, Joe gassed up Sport, his trusty Skoda that is liken to that of the Mach Five, and the three of us hit the road for our Cozy Kosovo Weekend.
Well, as I've always stated, the people of a country are the most important aspect of truly enjoying a country — and with Kosovo, I'd heard some rumors beforehand that Americans were quite welcome there. But upon first entering the region, which had a similar comprehensive borderline security check to that of Macedonia with an additional automobile driving fee, nothing would have prepared me for the kind of welcome given to us good ol' Americans.
You see, right upon entering Pristina, the capital and largest city of Kosovo, and then merging onto Bill Clinton Boulevard, the very first thing we saw was a banner of the 42nd president affixed to a huge apartment block similar to the most humongous Guess ad imaginable hanging from a Times Square skyscraper. It read, "Welcome to Bill Clinton Boulevard."
In addition to the boulevard and banner, a pretty cool 10-foot statue of Slick was unveiled on the boulevard in 2009 during a ceremony at which the former president spoke. And man, I ain't gonna lie, it felt pretty good seeing this kind of gratitude paid to my boy Slick. With an added touch of humor, and to show their fair side, next to Slick's statue sits a woman's fashion outlet apply named 'Hillary.' And last but not least, situated on top of a huge luxury hotel, there proudly stands a large-sized replica of New York's Statue of Liberty.
Talk about your warm welcome.
After the Kosovo War of 1998-1999, the Albanians, which make up about 90% percent of Kosovo, wanted to thank the American President for his help in their struggle with the government of the FR Yugoslavia. A struggle that included mass rape of Albanian women and numerous massacres of Albanian men, techniques by which the Serbs had used in the recent Bosnia War. The expulsion, which was carried to near completion, prompted NATO to wage an air war against Yugoslavia.
After getting lost a couple of times, and then receiving help from some very friendly Albanians, we finally managed to find our way to the Hotel Denis, a luxurious accommodation with a family-style hospitality. Here, I would receive my first touch of celebrity status in Kosovo — only this time, it was perhaps slightly authentic. You see, as Sarah and Joe were getting some dining tips from the hotel owner, the wife of the aforesaid thought I was a movie star — insisting that she'd seen me in several films.
Of course, since my films have yet to be released, the lady couldn't have possibly seen me in a movie. And because her fan-like reaction toward me nicely massaged my over-sized ego, I didn't bother telling her the truth. I wanted to keep her believing that I was this mega-movie star who just happened upon her husband's luxurious hotel to chill for a couple days. But alas, good ol' honest Sarah, my girl from the north country, made it pretty clear to the naive star-gazer that I was just a plain ol' ordinary unknown actor who'd appeared in a mere handful of unreleased B-movies hoping they'd become successful.
Yeah, that over-sized ego deflated like hot water balloon being dropped from a tall building.
However, this mistake in identity could just be the missing piece to solving the puzzle of this ever-so-present celebrity status mystery that I've been encountering throughout Europe. I mean, would you believe that, perhaps, just maybe, these European folks out here think I am a super handsome and talented movie star with tons of blockbuster Emmy winning movies under my belt?
Don't answer that!
Anyway, despite my non-movie star existence, the owner and wife still gave us some good tips on where to find some yummy restaurants around the city. And their best tip just so happen to be two that were located literally next door to our hotel. One was of traditional Albanian cuisine and the other was Indian. Once inside, we found that both places seem to have a kinship with the Hotel Denis owner, making us a little suspicious of why he might have recommended them. But that was okay by us, just so long as they were good — and they were real good!
The restaurants were also where we'd discover that we were possibly three of maybe one or two more tourists chillin' in Kosovo, after observing that the restaurants, and later on, the city in general, were pretty vacant of anyone resembling the likes of a foreigner. This also brings back the subject of my celebrity status. Like the attention Sarah received in Macedonia from the last Episode, both she and Joe — and me included, of course — were mega-celebrities in Kosovo. In fact, Kosovo now stands neck and neck with Bosnia as the European countries that displayed the most celebrity status attention.
Every where we went, the Albanians would frequently peer toward us as though we were three fashion models on a catwalk! It was truly fascinating. And I might as well mention that the gaping wasn't a problem in the least bit for Sarah and Joe after they confessed that the men in Kosovo were some of the most attractive they've seen on this side of Europe. So if you're in the market for gorgeous European men, Kosovo just might be the spot for you.
And on that note, if you are thinking of making the voyage to Kosovo, either for the gorgeous men or tourism, I should give a heads up that the place was reminiscent to that of Macedonia in terms of its underdevelopment. In fact, Kosovo was even more so. I guess, one could probably tour Pristina within a day's time, as there's still a lot of work to be down throughout the city, in terms of constructing new buildings, museums, etc. And there seemed to be some visible progress being made. Since independence, the Mayor has built many new roads and plan to construct a ring road around the city. So, in other words, if you're looking for that overly westernized country packed with Disney-like tourists spots and massive amounts of shopping outlets with franchise-e restaurants and clubs and bars, you won't find it in Kosovo. The closest thing I saw resembling a touch of that good ol' pop culture vulture was a knock-off version of McDonald's. The insanely popular American fast food chain, that has literally plagued a huge majority of Europe, was shockingly not officially present in Kosovo. Now that's a first.
"I'd ride the desert sands
and through the prairie lands,
try'n to do what's right.
The folks would come to me,
they'd say, we need you here.
I'd stay there for the night."
— Jeff Lynne, 1977
Another must-see in Kosovo is the historical city of Prizren, not far from Pristina. After we arrived and crossed over the The Old Stone Bridge, one of the landmarks of Prizren that crosses the Prizrenska Bistrica, and took a long excursion through The Shadervan, a tourist area with numerous cafes and restaurants, the three of us were surprised to discover that this section of Kosovo did not suffer much during the war — though its surrounding municipality were badly affected after the Albanian population were forced or intimidated into leaving the town. However, by the end of the war in June 1999, most of the Albanian population returned to Prizren, which is now predominantly ethnically Albanian.
This brings to mind the subject of Kosovo's two main religions, which are Islam and Christianity — with the former making up the larger 90% part of the general population. If considered an independent state, Kosovo would be one of three Muslim-dominated countries in Europe — next to Bosnia and Albania, the largest of them all, percentage wise. And in Kosovo, these statistics weren't too difficult for me to believe, after observing so many beautiful mosque's abound, including The Sinan Pasha Mosque, a huge Ottoman mosque and one of the most dominant features in the city's skyline.
Our last few of hours in Prizren would prove to be one of the top highlights of the trip. After exploring the heavily damaged Serbian Orthodox Church of the Savior, which was declared a Monument of Culture of Exceptional Importance in 1990, the highest level of state protection, I would get an opportunity to don my alias — The Brave And Fearless Castle Hunter. And, with some help from Sarah and Joe, we explored a pretty cool medieval fortress, now in ruins, known as Kaljaja, which was first erected on the Prizrenska Bistrica by the Byzantines and further expanded by Tsar Stefan Uroš IV Dušan of Serbia, who controlled it for a few centuries, giving it its modern shape. Like the aforementioned Orthodox Church, Kaljaja was also declared a Monument of Culture of Exceptional Importance within the same year.
After exploring the fortress and chowing down on more yummy Albanian cuisine, it was time to hit the road back to Sofia. And on our way, we stumbled upon a shopping mall with a few goodies from stores that didn't quite fit into the puzzle of the underdeveloped Kosovo. And I'll bet what I'm about to tell you just may seem a bit frivolous, particularly to my American readers, but understand that after living in the Balkans for two years, coming across rare commodities like these will make you jump for joy.
You see, it all happened after spending an hour helping Sarah find a dress for an upcoming ball and slurping down yummy smoothies for dessert, when we happened two things that sweetened the end of our trip — a Lush, an English handmade cosmetics store, that made Sarah jump for joy and a grocery store that carried Rice Krispies, me and Joe's all time favorite cereal dish — that made us jump for joy. We were all simply flabbergasted. It was like, what do you know? Kosovo didn't have a Macca D's, but they had a Lush and Rice Krispies.
Certainly some things that make you go...hmm.
Okay before I continue on with the exciting conclusion of my story, if you'd like to take a pause to see more photographs from my Cozy Kosovo Weekend — that always tell a far better story than I can — please feel free to click on the following link.
"Sometimes I look up high
and then I think there might
just be a better life.
Away from all we know,
that's where I wanna go,
out on the wild side."
— Jeff Lynne, 1977
After our Cozy Kosovo Weekend, the abnormally chilly June weather in Sofia warmed. The needed heat also brought along several heart warming events. The first event was the last day of school at the American English Academy. And please pardon me if I seem to come off as bragging or boasting, believe me, I'm really not the type to do so — but what I experienced on the last day came as such a surprise, I just can't resist sharing it.
You see, upon first arriving, I was given the school's newly finished year book, a pen, and strict instructions to stay seated near the lobby. My first thoughts were, "why in the world is the high school principal instructing me to do this?" I mean, I already knew I had no classes scheduled for that day. And my original intentions for coming to work was to just go in and say goodbye to the staff and students. I figured it would take no less than maybe 10 minutes at the most. Quick and painless.
I was wrong.
Talk about your celebrity status, in a matter of seconds, a steady flow of spirited students from various grades bombarded me with year books, requesting signatures. Most of them were my art and dance students, but, surprisingly, a huge number of them were students that I'd spoken to maybe once or twice in passing. I must have sat in the lobby for over two hours signing and wishing each student well. Some of them even gave me some pretty touching last day testimonies, like "your class was my absolute favorite," or "because of you, Mr. Owen — I feel an urge to draw or paint, now." I felt like my boys Kotter, Dixon, Coach Reeves, and Sir all rolled up into one.
Every student's testimony was like music to my ears. But if I had to choose a favorite, it would have had to come from my most gifted art student and graduating senior named Lauren, who, surprisingly, never had any formal art training prior to my class. She earnestly confessed that, "your class made me switch my college major to art."
Not too bad for a first year teacher.
Testimonies like Lauren's and the other students are the very sole reason why I decided to become a teacher in the first place. I'd gotten burnt out from the cut-throat, back-stabbing, non-appreciative office job environment. I wanted a job that would enable me to give back, as I was once given to, so to speak. And particularly from a couple of heroic art teachers I luckily came across during my high school years at the Suitland Visual & Performing Arts School in Maryland. Like Jedi knights to a unexperienced padawan, these champion instructors guided me through a world of art like I'd never known. And, if they're out there reading this episode of the Blog-O-Daria series, this one's for you — thank's for each and every lesson on art and life. You can bet that I If I were in a position to honor you with Slick-like 10 foot statues — it would be a done deal, ladies.
Okay, on to the second heart warming event — the Senior Graduation Program at the American English Academy. And in terms of a big preparation and high anticipation for success, this was liken to that of last season's Christmas Concert that you might recall from Episode 21, where I got that stellar performance I was banking on.
And like last season, I was once again under the gun, so to speak, to deliver another stellar one. So a couple months before the big graduation program, I got my dance students ready for action. But unlike last season, this time I wasn't nervous in the least bit. In fact, me and my dance students were eager to deliver another stellar performance — and one even bigger and better than the first. So, I guess you can say that our success at last season's Christmas Program made us a wee bit cocky. But that was okay, because it ended up paying off for us. You see, to cut a long story short, despite being pushed from the middle of the show to the opening act, both the senior and junior hip hop dance crews rocked the house during both graduation performances, making them a top highlight of the programs.
After the successful performance at the graduation program, the next heart warming event would end up taking place outside of the school at the Annual Irish Game Show Night — an event hosted by my good friend Mark, who is also the one responsible for bringing me to the American English Academy — held at Murphy's an Irish bar near Vitosha Boulevard in Sofia. And even though the contest, that my team ended up losing, was extremely fun, it wasn't until the end that I'd experience the best part of the night —and one that will probably keep my heart warmed for a long time coming.
And contrarily, it would come by result of me running into a couple of my art students, that, if you recall Episode 18, I generally dislike coming across in public places, due to the sometimes awkwardness of the situation. You see, it all happened after I was saying goodnight to my friends Kamy and Nevena, cheerleaders for my team, when suddenly out from behind me I heard two amplified voices.
"Mr. Owen!! Mr. Owen!!!" They shouted.
It was Stephanie, one of this year's graduating seniors, and Jake, a precocious junior, both of whom I am quite proud to say, I managed to pull out some pretty impressive and hidden artistic talent. After greeting the students and introducing them to Kamy and Nevena, Jake would then interrupt the usual mundane first meeting chatter and utter what could possibly rank as the number one most heart felt moment of my entire teaching experience at the American English Academy.
"Excuse me ladies, but before I get on my way, I just want you to know that Mr. Owen is the best teacher I ever had." He assertively announced in a thick Kiwi accent.
Just as he started to walk away, and I stood there speechless, struggling to hold back the emotions that were trying to escape from my ducts, he added with a gleam, "he's my hero."
Be seeing you.
O
