Struga

I can now say that I have salsa danced in a cave converted into a nightclub with a crowd of Kosovar Albanian and Serbian women.

I spent my weekend on the shore of Lake Ohrid, one of the prettiest places I have been in a long time. The lake is huge and beautiful and, if I squinted, looked like the ocean (quite a compliment in my book). I probably won’t be going back there any time soon, as it is a 12 hour bus trip from Belgrade.

It was work that took me to The Republic of Macedonia/FYROM/AlbaniTurkiSlavistan (the names that the country’s residents, the Greeks, and my brother have for it, respectively). The Women’s Peace Coalition (Women in Black + The Kosova Women’s Network) held a conference on women, peace, & security, to share experiences of the war, lobby for women’s involvement in the Kosovo Final Status Negotiations—and peacemaking in general, and build relationships.

It was amazing to hear the Kosovar women talk about their experiences, start crying & say, “I thought I would never cry in front of a Serb.” It was powerful to listen to a young Serb man apologize for all that had been done in his name, to ask for some kind of forgiveness.

Every few months or so, I have experiences that remind me why I am here, that make me feel like I am in the right place, that there is some meaning to the crooked path that brought me here.

This weekend was one of those times.