In case you're interested . . .

Balkan Insight has a lot of excellent, English-language coverage of Balkan politics, etc. The link is for the Macedonian page, and believe me, there are a lot of interesting things going on.

For instance, Macedonia is taking Greece to court.

Snow Day

It's wintertime in Skopje. Temperatures have dropped, and hover around 35-40F during the day. Lately there has been an icy wind sweeping through the valley.

It's nothing like Indiana in January, of course, but it'll take a bit of adjusting since it happened so quickly. We even got a bit of snow this weekend; it melted down here in the city because the ground is still very warm. But for the first time in my life, I have a view of snow covered mountains from my window, and I can't really complain about that.

Speaking of riding donkeys . . .

The last Yugo has finally rolled off the line.

Of course, if anyone in the US is desperately nostalgic for a Yugo, send them my way. I'm nearly hit by one or two of these rusting hulks on a daily basis, not that it would do much damage.

To take a picture

Everybody hates tourists, I think, but no one hates them more than an expatriate, long-term foreign resident. Stumbling through the city with their nose in a map, getting swindled by every street-seller around (and enjoying it), desperately seeking anyone who speaks their language, finding respite at McDonald's, and ending most nights drunkenly stumbling through the streets back to whatever overly-expensive room they've booked . . .

Alright, I can't say that I haven't been there. I've been that tourist, through multiple countries, and I enjoyed it a great deal. There's something to be said for that stereotypical study-abroad Euro-trip, swapping blandly similar travel stories with other obvious Americans on the train from Brussels to Paris, hoping that your next hostel-mate will be British or Australian- you know, something different - and not just another kid from Ohio on a weekend excursion from his "totally cultural pottery-making course" in Florence. Passport stamps, bottle caps, and Irish pubs in every damn city on the planet . . . I'm happy it happened, and even happier it's over.

And now I am that cranky expatriate (having skipped a step from 'tourist' to 'traveler'), and a significant part of becoming that expatriate is rejecting everything about being a tourist. The biggest problem with this rejection, so far, is photography. When I was a tourist roaming through Greece, I probably took 2,0000 pictures of everything from temple ruins to villagers drinking ouzo. It was expected, I think, andＩfelt no shame doing so. I was protected by a dozen other Americans doing the exact same thing. I was there for five weeks, had no idea if I would be back, and wanted to capture absolutely everything.

Living in a place changed my perspective. Macedonia really lacks tourism, especially in the late fall, so anyone snapping photographs stands out. Moreover, people quit becoming just part of the scenery. When I was a tourist, my goal was to find as many "authentic" pictures as possible:

Look, an old man in a cap and sweater drinking a Guinness in a pub! That is sooo Ireland! *click* An old Greek woman in a shawl in front of the church! *click* People sitting at a French cafe! *click*

And so on, and so on, until now. There are a lot of things that I would love to take pictures of here, and I haven't. Old villagers riding side-saddle on a donkey down a mountain trail, shopkeepers in the Old Town selling their wares . . . but I don't. It feels wrong. Maybe I'll move past this, into a more analytical, journalistic, documentary way of thinking that allows me to take pictures of everything once again. For now, though, I can't.

That villager isn't a postcard, he's a person. I could speak to him in his own language (a little), perhaps be invited into his home to share a little rakija. I'm living in this country, not hopping on a tour bus to move along to the next stop. That shopkeeper isn't just a bit of quaintness in his run-down shop. He's someone with a family to support, with a job to do, whom I'll probably pass numerous times as I walk around that part of the city. And I am not trying to say that they would be angry to be the subjects of a photograph; far from it, they would probably appreciate the novelty: "Why on earth is this silly foreigner taking my picture? Odd". Like I said, there aren't many tourists in Macedonia.

I just can't bring myself to it. It's like saying "You are foreign, curious, completely alien from my way of life." And that's probably really more of a comment on me, than anything else - I want to integrate, I want it all to be so normal that I don't feel the need to take a picture of it. It's all very conscious on my part, and probably all a foolish way of thinking that I'll come to regret. I usually have to waffle between two extremes before I settle in that happy middle.

So, to summarize:

I apologize for the lack of villagers riding donkeys. They'll be coming soon, I hope.

"What is it that you do here?"

Whenever people ask me what it is that I am actually doing here in Macedonia, I either default to saying "archaeology", or explain that it's complicated, and leave it at that. More and more, however, this scene from Office Space starts playing in the back of my head, although with slightly different dialogue:

Bob&Bob: So you physically dig the archaeological site?

Me: No. . . no the archaeologists do that.

Bob&Bob: So you much physically examine the sites and report on the data.

Me: Well, not exactly.

Bob&Bob: So what is it, would you say, that you actually do here?

Me: (nervous breakdown)

I don't even think my own family has any clue what I'm doing over here. So, lest anyone think that this is strictly a US State Department funded vacation, I will attempt to explain what I have been doing and what I hope to accomplish.

I am no archaeologist - let me make that clear. I have an undergraduate degree in Classics, and absolutely no formal training in archaeological method. Through my studies, however, I have always wandered about on the periphery of the archaeological world, and that is where I remain. I know a bit about archaeological ethics, the international art market, and looting; my Honor Scholar thesis dealt with these topics. I worked as the assistant to the Book Review Editors of the American Journal of Archaeology, and I absorbed quite a bit of information about archaeological publishing efforts during that time. But I have never picked up a shovel, dusted off a pot sherd, or broken down an ancient booby-trapped tomb door to rescue glittering treasures from Nazis, Communists, or any other existential threat to American liberty. Yet.

My original proposal was, as I said in my introductory blog post, necessarily vague. I had no idea what I would find once I arrived in Macedonia. Now that I have been here for a month and a half, I have a much better idea of the state of archaeological affairs, and therefore, what I might be able to accomplish. Right now, my activities can be grouped into Research, Networking, and Academic Aid. Allow me to explain:

1. Research: I am affiliated with the Institute for Ethnology and Anthropology at Ss. Kiril and Methodius University, and I also spend time with the Faculty of Archaeology. At the Institute, I am giving myself a crash-course in anthropology, while reading as much as I am able about Macedonian ethnography and history. My main project here, however, is trying to figure out what sort of sociological factors affect views of archaeology and archaeological looting here in Macedonia. Do folk stories of cursed Turkish gold keep villagers from digging around sites? Alternatively, are stories of wild treasures too enticing to keep them away? Macedonia has a problem with archaeology fading into nationalism (through Alexander the Great, etc.) and affecting present-day political issues. I'm interested in how all this came about, and in where it may be going.

2. Networking: I've been spending a great deal of time traveling around Macedonia, meeting with archaeologists at their dig sites. Despite being a tiny country, many archaeologists really don't know or talk to each other. There isn't much ongoing conversation between state archaeologists working for the Ministry of Cultural Heritage and archaeologists on the University faculty; neither of these groups has much communication with the archaeological community outside of Macedonia. Political, professional, and personal problems have all combined to keep Macedonia insulated from the wider academic world. I'm doing my best to connect people, share information, and pass along contacts.

3. Academic Aid: This is fairly broad, and mostly just involves the skills that come with being a reasonably competent American university graduate. I'm helping professors and students with their English conversation abilities. Later in the semester, I will be editing, proofreading, and correcting the English translations of academic papers. In America, we really take for granted our access to resources like JSTOR. Everyone in my generation just knows how to use Google to find other resources (NGO's, academic information, etc.).

Things are obviously a lot different here. Some archaeologists have never heard of the American School at Athens; none have access to the most common academic journals in the West. They don't know how to write grant proposals, or have absolutely no idea how to find out what grants are available for their research in the first place. I feel odd, as a 23-year old recent graduate, showing professors some of the basic research methods that we use in America to locate these sort of resources.

And additionally: In conjunction with all of these activities, I am working as best I can with a few other Americans who are interested in promoting cultural heritage tourism in Macedonia. I am trying to get a privately-published Macedonian academic journal as wide of an audience as I can. And I am meeting some wonderful people and some bizarre characters along the way.

And, having written all that, I'm afraid I actually can't say precisely where all this is leading. The bigger picture is still forming in my mind, so for now, I just need to stay focused on the details. Next week, I'll be meeting with the Director for the Institute of Folklore, visiting a young archaeologist who's doing some great work in a village to the east of Skopje, and trying out a village home-stay. I'll also be helping students with English conversation, pouring over outdated anthropology text books, and working on my Macedonian. If I'm lucky, I'll get to see the photographic archive of over 500 Macedonian fortresses that a professor has on an Apple G5 in his basement.

Something ought to come of all that, right?

Ohrid #1

Normally, I would provide a little bit of the history of each place that I visit. I'll just leave it to Wikipedia to explain Ohrid, because there's really just too much to say. And this trip to Ohrid was really more of a vacation than an "adventure in archaeology”, so I really don't have too much to say beyond what I've read on Wikipedia. I know, I know. Shame on me.

It's really just a beautiful little city, packed during the summer with Serbs, Macedonians, and the Dutch swimming in the lake during the day and clubbing all night long. It's the off-season now, and very quiet. I prefer it that way.

Sunrise breaking between the mountains and the clouds over the lake, with a view from the Old Town (where the hotel was located) towards the quay and newer part of Ohrid:



A view from the hotel balcony, overlooking the lake and the Old Town:


St. Jovan Kaneo, one of the more famous churches in Ohrid:


Walking around the walls of Tsar Samoil's fortress, which rings the hill above the Old Town:

It's been awhile

A good friend from back in my university days has been visiting for the past week, and I apologize to anyone who thought that I had disappeared into the Albanian border country. I was mostly aware of my location throughout the week, and was probably never in any danger.

I have a camera full of pictures - mostly the same scenes of Ohrid in varying stages of sunset - and little time to put them all up until the weekend. We've been roaming around the Old Town, climbing to monasteries, playing with 4th century AD gold coins in the archaeological vaults of the university, baking stuffed butternut squash, relaxing in Ohrid, and rubbing elbows with the idle elite at the Macedonian Wine Club. Things have been busy.

So, expect a number of upcoming posts and more pictures (per my mother's request).

Until then, I'll share this wonderful, purely Macedonian anecdote:

My friend and I were visiting another beautiful old monastic church in Ohrid, and the ticket-taker/frustrated academic offered to show us around the church. In truth, she wanted to evangelize a little for the Orthodox church. Our guide, on the topic of Christian love and tolerance:

"Real Christians must love and be tolerant of everything - even dogs, snakes, even Greeks and Muslims. Everybody."

Ah, Macedonia.

Ohrid

I'm off to Ohrid for a few days, so I'll probably be out of regular communication.

But there'll be some great pictures when I return.

The Pride of Macedonia: Women

(Macedonian folk dancing at the Skopje Wine Festival . . . I have no clue what's going on.)


I wandered down to the post office to pay my utilities bill today, aided by a man named Bratislav. I had told him that I needed to pay my utilities bill in Macedonian, though I'm sure what he heard was "bill to me is needed I pay where water electricity". As gave him my thanks, he slapped me on the back and said, "What are you doing here? You must find a beautiful woman, to teach you Macedonian!" This is the most recent in a long string of conversations that all center around the theme "Macedonia has the most beautiful women in the world".

This is very interesting, because in many respects, it is the only consistent source of national pride. People will go on and on about how the government is corrupt, only the mafia gets rich, no one has a job, they are oppressed by everyone, Albanian issues, etc. Casual conversation often brings out a terrible series of complaints that make Macedonia sound like the worst place in the world. Perhaps I hear this more than most, because nobody in Macedonia understands why I would ever want to come here. "What, you study here? Why did you come from America to study here?" This is usually followed by a suspicious glance, because I must have more sinister motives. No one could ever possibly want to come to Macedonia to study. But I think they would nod approvingly and give me the names of villages and families if I said I were "bride-shopping" or some equivalent.

Because at the end of every tirade, they will say, "Yes, but we do have beautiful women. The most beautiful." The most professional, official people I know have made statements like, "My got, Set. Have you a woman yet? What? You must! Deese Macedonian women, my got, Set." Cab drivers tend to only know the English for "American Good!" and "Here Women Beautiful!".

I need to clarify that this is not the same as talking about beautiful women in America. I'm not trying to convey some sort of lewd, high-fiving frat-boy sentiment about, say, a bar where the hottest chics hang out. When a Macedonian tells me that the women are beautiful, it's like an Indiana University fan talking about having the best basketball team. The Greeks have the Parthenon, Italians have pizza, the French have wine . . . and, according to the locals, Macedonia has women. It's a national pride type of thing.

I'm sure there are numerous anthropological and sociological reasons behind this relating to all sorts of horrendous practices like bride-theft and such. I'll leave that to the feminist scholars at my Institute. But with the convoluted politics of this tiny patch of Europe, it is nice to know that there's one thing that everyone agrees on.

Post-Election

Nearly everyone who communicates with me on a regular basis has asked me about the Macedonian reaction to the American election. I have been begging off answering this for two related reasons. Firstly, despite being an avid politics-watcher, I didn't support either major candidate this year and am generally a cranky, cynical old man when it comes to national politics. I can hold a reasonable conversation, but more often I deliver a crusty, sarcastic, and sometimes incoherent rant of epic proportions, and I've been trying to avoid that. Secondly, I am still very American-centric in my observations. I've only been here a month, my language skills are lacking, and conversations with most Macedonians don't stray too far outside of archaeology, Albanians, and "we have beautiful women, yes?". This is a pretty big failure on my part, I think. It's incredibly interesting to be in another country during our national election, and I haven't been nearly as curious as I should. As long as there aren't any riots in the streets, I stay tuned to my CNN portal-to-America.

That being said, other Americans here have done a much better job at explaining the rather curious Macedonian position. I would suggest that you read Justin and Eric to understand the basic issues here. And elsewhere in the region, Chelsi has had some interesting experiences.

In summary, however, the Macedonians were supportive of John McCain for two reasons:

1. The Bush years, as bad as they may have been for everyone else, have actually been pretty good for Macedonia and for the Balkans. The Albanians love Bush for NATO efforts in Kosovo, while the Macedonians appreciate that he has recognized them under their constitutional name, The Republic of Macedonia. The US has also poured quite a bit of aid into the country.

2. Barack Obama has expressed support for the Greek position in the hilarious-if-it-wasn't-hurting-Macedonia Name Dispute.

Regarding #2, however, the Macedonians are fairly realistic. As Justin and Eric both noted, most of Obama's support for the Greek position probably arises from the large Greek population in Chicago, and their position as a traditional Democratic constituency. It's not as if Obama ran on a platform of health care, Iraq, and FYROM, and in terms of importance this is a minor issue at best. The Macedonians understand this. And that, as far as I can tell, is that.

Update:

In lieu of a cranky rant on my part, I'll just recommend Will Wilkinson. I won't say that am as content as he sounds with the results (not that I would be any happier with McCain), but the second half strikes of his post sounds about right to me.

Today was very pleasant.

Sure, they have beaches, but . . .

Alright, alright. Skopje isn't Dubrovnik, but I haven't seen anything blow up while I've been here.

Halloween Party

On numerous occasions here in Macedonia, I've remarked to Eric that with globalization and all that, I feel like I've never left home. He corrects me each time, and rightfully so, because what I'm experiencing is actually just American cultural imperialism. If I were from Botswana or Indonesia, I wouldn't be able to find my music or food in a pub around the corner. So for everyone who might hear "Macedonia" and think of peasants carrying bundles of sticks, funny-costumed folk dancing, and the gypsy fight scene from James Bond . . . well, most of that is fairly apt.

But there's also an English pub behind my apartment where I can watch the Colts play on British satellite television and listen to an Eric Clapton cover band. American television, movies, and music are everywhere - I can watch Frasier subtitled in Macedonian. And I can also spend Halloween at an Irish pub, eating onion rings, and listening to a Macedonian band covering the likes of Eagle Eye Cherry.

It was a hell of a good time, and I recommend you stop by if you ever find yourself in Kumanovo.

(Me with the obviously Irish owner)