On the Registering of a Jeep in Kosovo...

This morning I finally got off my lazy ass and set off into the wilds of Kosovo in order to register my Jeep so I can drive it legally. I thought this would only take two or three hours tops but little did I know what kind of shenanigans I was getting myself into. I drove into the center of Ferizaj, found an insurance company and, in broken Spanish (the guy knew Italian) and Albanian Engrish, attempted to buy an insurance policy. This was actually the smoothest part of the day and went pretty well.

After getting the policy I had to get the Jeep inspected and here was where the fun started. The inspection place is on the other side of town so I followed the sales guy and another customer through the streets of Ferizaj. The inspection itself went fine but while preparing my paperwork, the inspector noticed that the Customs officials (I had cleared my jeep with Customs a few weeks ago) had entered some incorrect information on the import documents, the correct information being necessary to register the jeep.

To fix this, I had to drive 30 miles south of Ferizaj, through the mountains, to the customs terminal at Hani I Elezit. I fought my way through a crowd of unbathed Albanian truckers and asked the first uniformed officer I saw, "Anglisht?". No Anglisht. But 5 minutes later and English speaker showed up to help me. Unfortunately their station chief was needed in order to correct the documents because this guy didn't have high enough computer privileges so I had to wait an hour for the chief to return from lunch.

With corrected customs documents in hand I headed back to the insurance office in Ferizaj so the salesdude could fix my insurance policy (he had copied down the incorrect customs info). Valid insurance in hand, I fought my way across town to the Kosovar Department of Motor Vehicles (not actually called this but you get the point). Fighting my way through another crowd of Albanians (they don't understand the concept of lines) I asked the harried-looking lady, "Anglisht?". No. But someone there did. And she helped me. Thankfully, all my paperwork was in order but I needed to pay various registration fees, for which she prepared two forms, and these had to be paid and receipted at a bank. There is no bank nearby. Again, I set off across town, this time fighting the afternoon rush hour traffic in a city of 85,000 but no traffic lights.

I decided to go back to the bank where I had paid for the insurance because, presumably, they would remember me and could speak some English. The cute teller took my euros while her coworkers smiled and giggled at me in Albanian. Fees paid, it was back to the registration office. Not even 20 meters away from the front door of the bank, I rear-end some guy in his "mint-condition" 1989 Volkswagen Golf. It was stop-and-go traffic; I went and he stopped. Out of the car he comes, yelling in Albanian. I smile and ask, "Anglisht?". No. But some thoughtful onlooker thinks to ask me, "sprechen zie Deutsch?". I respond with "nicht Deutsch" which was obviously a lie since I knew enough to say "nicht Deutsch". I show the guy my insurance policy but apparently he didn't want anything to do with that. I didn't really want to make a claim on the policy on the very day I bought it, either. So in the interests of a) not involving the authorities, b) getting the hell out of a very busy intersection during the very busy rush hour, and (not least) c) not pissing this guy off so much that the next time he saw my jeep he would throw a grenade at me, I gave him 50 euros which he took with a smile. Relieved, I cautiously made my way back to the registration office.

I walked through the door with less than 10 minutes to closing time. All the locals have gone and I hand my paperwork back to the nice English-speaking lady who helped me earlier. All my paperwork is in order, the fee receipts are tallied, and I'm missing the 3rd fee. For which she had not given me a form. So now it's back to the dance tomorrow...

Post-Christmas, pre-New Year's update

To everyone who was concerned my Christmas would be a depressing event, worry not! While definitely not the traditional family Christmas I've been accustomed to, it was an enjoyable occasion.

Unless you're American (or an Albanian Catholic), Christmas in Macedonia isn't celebrated until January 7th (Macedonians are Orthodox). That meant I could still get some last-minute shopping done on the 25th without looking quite the pathetic procrastinator if I had done the same back in the States. I was thankful for that because shopping opportunities on Camp Bondsteel are quite limited if you're looking for something other than the average PX crap.

After the last minute shopping, I returned to my apartment, quickly wrapped presents, and got ready for the evening's festivities.

My coworker, Dave, and his wife Billy have more or less adopted this lost American and the benefits of that adoption have included various holiday parties and dinners. Billy had cooked up a storm for Christmas - the menu included roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, pumpkin pie, and homemade cookies. Not quite the spread I missed back home but definitely welcome and tasty. After stuffing our faces we exchanged presents and then watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, courtesy of my mother. I prefaced the movie by explaining that it was typical of all American Christmases and as proof I showed them a picture of the Christmas light display at the Smiths' house in Wroxton. All were suitably impressed.

We capped off the evening with two impromptu fireworks displays, the first off the balcony at Dave and Billy's apartment. The explosions were awesome but were accompanied by a horrific rotten eggs/sulfur odor. We then went across town to one of their friend's neighborhoods and set off some more rockets in honor of her father, who's birthday was on the 24th. We got some dirty looks from the neighbors but he enjoyed the hell out of it, as did we.

Interspersed with the fireworks and presents and food were alcoholic beverages aplenty so Christmas this year was celebrated in the famed Kneisley style.

Wednesday night brings New Year's Eve which, minus the presents, looks to be Christmas Part Deux. Photos are coming soon!

Christmas in Skopje! Yay?

In what is probably the saddest episode of my adventures abroad, for the first time in 28 years I'm spending Christmas away from my family. Even when I was in Iraq, I made it home. This was my choice, so I have no one to blame but myself, but it's still a hard thing. I had a great time going back to the States in November and if I could have made it back for both holidays I would have. Time and money made that unlikely.

I will, however, be celebrating Christmas tonight with friends in Macedonia so I will not be missing out on my annual installment of food, booze, and presents. To everyone in Texas, Merry Christmas! And since I can't be there have a drink for me!

Secret Santa

I got a surprise package in the mail today. It was not the usual care package filled with my Mom's cookies or something I ordered from Amazon, but an anonymous gift pack from Hickory Farms with summer sausage (which I love), a smoked cheddar blend (which I am unsure about), and spicy mustard (which I also enjoy).

No clue as to who sent it, other than a single line on the shipping label under the heading Gift Message which read, "MERRY CHRISTMAS." Santa Claus came to my house once in 1986, maybe he's sending me gifts in Kosovo?

To whomever sent it, thank you and Merry Christmas!

Interesting article on the Pristina real estate market

This is in the British newspaper Financial Times and the writer seems to think he's a bit of a comedian. From Taking the stairs:

On first arrival in Kosovo's capital city, most people are struck by the ugliness of the place. From the northern approach, two ageing thermo-electric power plants spew out whitish-grey smoke over Pristina's uncontrolled sprawl. Closer to the centre, the jumble of dull concrete buildings becomes only a little more orderly. Since 1999, when weeks of pounding by Nato warplanes forced the former Serb regime to pull out of Kosovo, the main city of around 200,000 has swelled to roughly half a million - without a trace, except on paper, of an urban plan.

Internets

Finally, after three weeks of not trying very hard, I complained enough times to get the company that runs the internet service in our rooms to come fix mine. No longer do I have to trudge half a kilometer to check my email.

If you can't tell, I'm fairly excited. I won't be enjoying it this weekend though - I'm heading to Skopje. Hopefully I'll be getting my internet fixed there too.

Apologies for my laziness

I've been extremely lazy over the last 6 weeks and haven't updated anything. I'll try to get at least one post up here weekly to at least let everyone know I'm still alive and not in a Macedonian prison.

Nothing too new this week except that I returned to Kosovo after almost 24 hours of travelling back from vacation in exotic Conroe, Texas. It was 10 days filled with booze, food, family, and friends so I could not have asked for much more.