If you're interested in the aftermath of the protests/counterprotests, the website http://skopje2803.blogspot.com is compiling reactions to the events in English. They also refer to me as "Skopje resident and blogger S. Elder", which has a nice ring to it. Maybe I'll get new business cards.
Eric has another excellent post up, detailing the logical inversions being used to prosecute the protesters that were injured for causing the events which led to their injuries.
And here is the Balkan Insight story.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Six Months in. . . #5
TURKISH COFFEE FLOWS THROUGH MY VEINS
The font used above is supposed to approximate the level of caffeine in my body at all times. Between roaming packs of street dogs, scooters, traffic madness, and Roma children, living in Macedonia requires an extremely high degree of awareness of your surroundings. Survival in Skopje means that you need to be able to walk arm-in-arm with someone down a sidewalk, dodging potholes, parked cars, and moving cars, smoking a cigarette with one hand, texting on the phone with the other, and hissing at street dogs while still holding a conversation. This is only possible with Turkish coffee.
Turkish coffee is common throughout the Balkans, Turkey, and the Middle East (although in Greece, it's known as Greek coffee - kafe hellenikos - but don't let them fool you), spread by the Ottoman Empire. It's somewhat similar to 'cowboy coffee', in that you boil the the grounds directly in the water, as seen in the disastrous picture above. Unlike American filter coffee, though, the coffee is ground down to a powder. After bringing the water to a boil, the coffee foams up at the top and spills all over the stove, which after six months leaves a light dusting of coffee over all the surfaces of your apartment. That's not necessarily the traditional way to prepare it, but such things happen. After pouring the coffee, the grounds settle at the bottom in a sort of sludge, and you drink the delicious, delicious liquid energy off the top.
Whenever Macedonians have guests - especially in the villages - they always prepare Turkish coffee. It's a very social drink, and Macedonians can sit on a cup for hours, smoking and gossiping. As an American, I drink it like a weak cup of Folger's, and buzz right through two or three cups in the same amount of time. It's often difficult to find Turkish coffee in the trendier, "European" cafes on the square or the pedestrian street. They serve the typical run of espressos and capuccinos, and view Turkish coffee as a sort of backwards, village drink - despite the fact that everyone drinks it anyway.
Needless to say, it's very, very strong. And if you take it without sugar, you'll impress all the older folks. My best advice, though, would be not to even start down that road. Ask for tea instead, becuase once you start drinking Turkish coffee, it's impossible to function without it.
Six Months In. . . #4
If a liquid looks or smells disgusting, but people drink it, I assume it has some health benefit.
Macedonia is full of folk remedies for various ailments, and most of the 'medicine' prescribed by grandmothers is some sort of rakija. Two popular, traditional, and non-alcoholic 'health drinks' are juva and boza.
Juva is, basically, rotting cabbage juice. 'Kisela zelka' is Macedonian sauerkraut, and rather than purchase it from stores, most people have a barrel in the backyard where they ferment their own cabbage. After fermenting and removing the cabbage, they are left with a salty, pinkish-colored brine that smells like the trashcan at a farmer's market. This is juva. Drink a glass every morning to prevent illness; drink a big glass to cure a hangover. Juva cures all.
And actually, it is very healthy. Cabbage is a great source of vitamin C in areas where citrus fruits are not traditionally grown, and the juva is full of it. Also, in the dry, warm climate of Macedonia, the high concentration of salt replenishes what you lose while sweating. And to be honest, it doesn't actually taste bad - it's just like drinking sauerkraut. But the smell. . . it takes some getting used to.
Boza basically a rotten wheat drink. It is sold in bottles at sweets shops, for some reason. It's non-alcoholic, though I'm not sure how, because it tastes exactly like the mash used in the first stage of making whiskey. Imagine pouring Pabst Blue Ribbon on a bowl of cornflakes and letting it sit out for awhile. I have to assume that it actually is slightly alcoholic, as the traditional benefit of this sort of drink is that water-borne bacteria can't survive the mild alcohol. Aside from that, I have no clue.
These are the 'cultural' things that people talk about, I guess.
Update:
The Wikipedia articles for boza is here. Here's something I did not know:
"Boza allegedly has the ability to enlarge women's breasts."
Macedonia is full of folk remedies for various ailments, and most of the 'medicine' prescribed by grandmothers is some sort of rakija. Two popular, traditional, and non-alcoholic 'health drinks' are juva and boza.
Juva is, basically, rotting cabbage juice. 'Kisela zelka' is Macedonian sauerkraut, and rather than purchase it from stores, most people have a barrel in the backyard where they ferment their own cabbage. After fermenting and removing the cabbage, they are left with a salty, pinkish-colored brine that smells like the trashcan at a farmer's market. This is juva. Drink a glass every morning to prevent illness; drink a big glass to cure a hangover. Juva cures all.
And actually, it is very healthy. Cabbage is a great source of vitamin C in areas where citrus fruits are not traditionally grown, and the juva is full of it. Also, in the dry, warm climate of Macedonia, the high concentration of salt replenishes what you lose while sweating. And to be honest, it doesn't actually taste bad - it's just like drinking sauerkraut. But the smell. . . it takes some getting used to.
Boza basically a rotten wheat drink. It is sold in bottles at sweets shops, for some reason. It's non-alcoholic, though I'm not sure how, because it tastes exactly like the mash used in the first stage of making whiskey. Imagine pouring Pabst Blue Ribbon on a bowl of cornflakes and letting it sit out for awhile. I have to assume that it actually is slightly alcoholic, as the traditional benefit of this sort of drink is that water-borne bacteria can't survive the mild alcohol. Aside from that, I have no clue.
These are the 'cultural' things that people talk about, I guess.
Update:
The Wikipedia articles for boza is here. Here's something I did not know:
"Boza allegedly has the ability to enlarge women's breasts."
Monday, March 30, 2009
Perspective
I think most Americans are cheap at the margins - that's not to say we don't spend a good deal on clothes, electronics, and other consumer items, because we obviously do. But being frugal at the margins means that, looking at the menu in Olive Garden, we're more likely to pick the giant plate of fake-Italian pasta for $12.95 over the slightly better looking plate of fake-Italian pasta for $14.99. We're already spending more than $10 on a meal better made at home for $2, but if we can save $2 somewhere else. . . we do. It's irrational, but it's a habit.
And in a place like Macedonia, it becomes a very bad habit. Looking at a menu in a restaurant here in Skopje, you might see that a huge basket of grilled bread is 50 denari, while bread-with-cheese comes in at a whopping 90 denari. The marginal frugality kicks in unconsciously, and you go without cheese. You have saved less than a dollar on an appetizer that could be split between five people.
When traveling through the country, I'll often grumble about 'Skopje Prices'. An espresso in, say, Strumica will be about 40 denari, while the average price in Skopje is 70 denari. The 30 denari price difference is about $.60 (give or take), and I dare you to find a $1.40 Italian espresso anywhere in America. The same rule holds for most other food and drink prices.
So, rather than complain, I've been trying to keep things in perspective. And here's some perspective: In Macedonia, 10 dollars = about 450 denarii =
1. about 3 gallons of good beer
2. about 4 or 5 gallons of decent wine
3. A light dinner for two at a kafana, including appetizers, wine or beer, and Turkish coffee for desert
4. A train ticket from one end of the country to the other (Skopje-Gevgelija)
5. A long night out anywhere but Skopje
6. Basic groceries for a week (giant loaf of bread = $.50, potatoes and onions might as well be free, see above for beverages)
7. Two espressos after I walk to the center and pay my monthly water bill.
8. A taxi ride from one end of Skopje to the other - and back.
9. Eight packs of cheap cigarettes.
10. Ten hours online at the Internet cafe in the basement of my apartment building.
It also equals 40 frozen pizza crusts, 25 bunches of fresh parsley, and a block of cheese the size of my head. And so on . . .
And in a place like Macedonia, it becomes a very bad habit. Looking at a menu in a restaurant here in Skopje, you might see that a huge basket of grilled bread is 50 denari, while bread-with-cheese comes in at a whopping 90 denari. The marginal frugality kicks in unconsciously, and you go without cheese. You have saved less than a dollar on an appetizer that could be split between five people.
When traveling through the country, I'll often grumble about 'Skopje Prices'. An espresso in, say, Strumica will be about 40 denari, while the average price in Skopje is 70 denari. The 30 denari price difference is about $.60 (give or take), and I dare you to find a $1.40 Italian espresso anywhere in America. The same rule holds for most other food and drink prices.
So, rather than complain, I've been trying to keep things in perspective. And here's some perspective: In Macedonia, 10 dollars = about 450 denarii =
1. about 3 gallons of good beer
2. about 4 or 5 gallons of decent wine
3. A light dinner for two at a kafana, including appetizers, wine or beer, and Turkish coffee for desert
4. A train ticket from one end of the country to the other (Skopje-Gevgelija)
5. A long night out anywhere but Skopje
6. Basic groceries for a week (giant loaf of bread = $.50, potatoes and onions might as well be free, see above for beverages)
7. Two espressos after I walk to the center and pay my monthly water bill.
8. A taxi ride from one end of Skopje to the other - and back.
9. Eight packs of cheap cigarettes.
10. Ten hours online at the Internet cafe in the basement of my apartment building.
It also equals 40 frozen pizza crusts, 25 bunches of fresh parsley, and a block of cheese the size of my head. And so on . . .
Protests
When I woke up on Saturday morning, the alley behind my apartment was filled with poorly-designed flyers. They were in support of the building of a Macedonian Orthodox Church on the main public square in Skopje, giving such compelling arguments as "The Square is an unfinished area of the City" and "Every European square has a Church. We should too." On the back was a picture of Jesus, and the quote, "Forgive them father, they know not what they do."
This flyer was meant to rally people to the square that morning in support of the building of the church, as opponents of a church-on-the-square were holding their own rally. From what I understand, the opponents were students from the Faculty of Architecture, and opposed to the location, rather than the church itself.
A little background information: The Macedonian government pays to build Orthodox churches and giant crosses on top of mountains. This is naturally irritating to the Muslim Albanians, who I doubt recieve any money from the government to build their mosques (most of the money comes from abroad) and to those people who would prefer money be spent on things like education and health care. This new church is being built on an already-crowded square, in a location where both mosques and churches have previously existed. And, on an aesthetic note, the construction wall blocks the main cafe-bar area from views of the river.
So, a handful of students from the Faculty of Architecture show up for a peaceful protest, and somebody trucks in several hundred counter-protesters from outside of Skopje. Violence ensued, of course. Eric has an excellent post about it. Balkan Insight's editorial is here. Justin recently wrote about the interesting identity issues in Macedonia, which most definitely come into play here. And Balkanalysis.com has an article up about the image problems of the current government.
The first round of elections were peaceful, by the way, so that's great news. The second round is coming up soon.
This flyer was meant to rally people to the square that morning in support of the building of the church, as opponents of a church-on-the-square were holding their own rally. From what I understand, the opponents were students from the Faculty of Architecture, and opposed to the location, rather than the church itself.
A little background information: The Macedonian government pays to build Orthodox churches and giant crosses on top of mountains. This is naturally irritating to the Muslim Albanians, who I doubt recieve any money from the government to build their mosques (most of the money comes from abroad) and to those people who would prefer money be spent on things like education and health care. This new church is being built on an already-crowded square, in a location where both mosques and churches have previously existed. And, on an aesthetic note, the construction wall blocks the main cafe-bar area from views of the river.
So, a handful of students from the Faculty of Architecture show up for a peaceful protest, and somebody trucks in several hundred counter-protesters from outside of Skopje. Violence ensued, of course. Eric has an excellent post about it. Balkan Insight's editorial is here. Justin recently wrote about the interesting identity issues in Macedonia, which most definitely come into play here. And Balkanalysis.com has an article up about the image problems of the current government.
The first round of elections were peaceful, by the way, so that's great news. The second round is coming up soon.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
A Few Notes on Music
Earlier, I wrote about the unnerving popularity of Elvis' "Suspicious Minds" on Macedonian radio. As an American, my music is neatly categorized into "New" and "Old". "New" music is on the radio, unless you're listening to an "Oldies" station. "Old" can never be "New". So that an old Elvis song could be popular now, well, it's just plain disturbing.
To add to this phenomenon, two anecdotes:
I have heard live bands or DJ's in popular Skopje discos play these songs on the weekend:
"Love Shack" by the B-52's
The Friends theme song (!)
"Dancing Queen" by Abba
That song from Grease where they sing back and forth
And I should stress that they are playing these songs entirely without irony. Sure, we'll have an '80's Party' in college, but the whole point of that is to wear ugly sweaters and laugh at ourselves. This stuff is popular here.
Also, I was talking to someone about the soundtrack to Animal House (why? I can't recall) and I asked her if she had ever heard the Sam Cooke song "Wonderful World", which is featured in the movie. "Yeah, of course," she said, "It was a big hit here two years ago."
This is fascinating because people here have always had access to Western music. It's not like the wall came down, and a flood of Zeppelin and the Beatles swept over, and people are still digging around and discovering the 1950's. But, nonetheless, Sam Cooke is still making waves.
Good for him.
To add to this phenomenon, two anecdotes:
I have heard live bands or DJ's in popular Skopje discos play these songs on the weekend:
"Love Shack" by the B-52's
The Friends theme song (!)
"Dancing Queen" by Abba
That song from Grease where they sing back and forth
And I should stress that they are playing these songs entirely without irony. Sure, we'll have an '80's Party' in college, but the whole point of that is to wear ugly sweaters and laugh at ourselves. This stuff is popular here.
Also, I was talking to someone about the soundtrack to Animal House (why? I can't recall) and I asked her if she had ever heard the Sam Cooke song "Wonderful World", which is featured in the movie. "Yeah, of course," she said, "It was a big hit here two years ago."
This is fascinating because people here have always had access to Western music. It's not like the wall came down, and a flood of Zeppelin and the Beatles swept over, and people are still digging around and discovering the 1950's. But, nonetheless, Sam Cooke is still making waves.
Good for him.
Six Months in . . . #3
I will, on occasion, defend Tito and Yugoslav Socialism.
Those who know me are aware that my politics amount to the 'leave me the hell alone!' cranky sentiments of rural populism. And those same people would probably be very surprised to hear my occasional defense of a federation of socialist republics. This defense, though, is usually limited to Macedonia's position within Yugoslavia. And it's usually brought about while trying to explain to someone that Yugoslavia was not in the Soviet Union.
Almost everyone over 30 that has spoken to me about Yugoslavia is exceptionally nostalgic for it - think the Golden Era of 1950's Leave It to Beaver America for which some people in the States long. There's a great deal of Communist nostalgia in Russia, too, but this is tempered by the Gulag, commodity shortages, bread lines, paranoia, and a brutal state apparatus. Yugoslavia was a much kinder sort of state. Sure, there were political prisoners, religious suppression, and a powerful state apparatus here, too. But Yugoslav citizens were far freer in their words and actions. People could travel abroad in Europe without trouble. Consumer items were plentiful compared with other nearby states, while food, alcohol, and cigarettes were always in abundance. Most people who lived under Yugoslavia, when asked, would say they considered themselves 'free'.
And Macedonia itself experienced a sort of cultural renaissance. For numerous reasons (to erode Serbia's influence in the Federation, to strengthen claims against Greece, as a political show for neighboring Albania, Bulgaria, and Greece) Yugoslavia invested heavily in Macedonian culture. The language was codified, institutes were created for preserving folk heritage, and resources were made available for archaeology and historical preservation. As a traditionally poor region, Macedonia benefited a great deal from the Yugoslav federal structure.
So, take a hypothetical case. If I were, say, an electrician in Yugoslav Macedonia, I would probably belong to some sort of state-sponsored guild, and would be guaranteed a job for life. This 'job for life' opens up the opportunity for credit (hey, a job-for-life is a safe bet for bank) and I'd be able to get an apartment, maybe a car, and all the trappings of a relatively comfortable life pretty quickly. Every company or guild or union 'owned' its own vacation resort (from government resorts on the Croatian coast to municipal garbage-men unions on small lakes here in Macedonia), and I would be able to take a month-long vacation every year at my company's place. Other, once-in-a-decade or so trips might be organized for Greece, or something like that. My passport gives me visa-free access to all of Western Europe, no travel restrictions. And, compared to neighboring Albania, Bulgaria, and yes, pre-EU northern Greece, I've got a spectacular standard of living.
If I were that same electrician today, I would be facing 30% official unemployment and a maze of tax regulations. My passport isn't all that great anywhere but the former Yugoslavia, because now I need an expensive and time-consuming visa for the UK, Western Europe, and Greece. The economy isn't all that great, because instead of Macedonian goods competing in the Yugoslav common market, they have to compete against the EU and all other former Communist nations. And odds are, I'm still living with my parents, because real estate is in short supply in Skopje and I just couldn't afford it. The future looks uncertain with regards to EU membership. And while a lot of people have made a lot of money since splitting with Yugoslavia, things may not be looking up for me.
This is an imaginary situation, of course. But I hope it illustrates the relative decline of some people's standard of living after the fall of Yugoslavia, and helps make clear why anyone would be nostalgic for socialism.
Of course, if you talk to young professionals, there's a whole different outlook: they often decry the "Yugoslav" mentality of the older generation as a very negative, anti-progress, anti-growth sort of thing. But that's for another post.
Those who know me are aware that my politics amount to the 'leave me the hell alone!' cranky sentiments of rural populism. And those same people would probably be very surprised to hear my occasional defense of a federation of socialist republics. This defense, though, is usually limited to Macedonia's position within Yugoslavia. And it's usually brought about while trying to explain to someone that Yugoslavia was not in the Soviet Union.
Almost everyone over 30 that has spoken to me about Yugoslavia is exceptionally nostalgic for it - think the Golden Era of 1950's Leave It to Beaver America for which some people in the States long. There's a great deal of Communist nostalgia in Russia, too, but this is tempered by the Gulag, commodity shortages, bread lines, paranoia, and a brutal state apparatus. Yugoslavia was a much kinder sort of state. Sure, there were political prisoners, religious suppression, and a powerful state apparatus here, too. But Yugoslav citizens were far freer in their words and actions. People could travel abroad in Europe without trouble. Consumer items were plentiful compared with other nearby states, while food, alcohol, and cigarettes were always in abundance. Most people who lived under Yugoslavia, when asked, would say they considered themselves 'free'.
And Macedonia itself experienced a sort of cultural renaissance. For numerous reasons (to erode Serbia's influence in the Federation, to strengthen claims against Greece, as a political show for neighboring Albania, Bulgaria, and Greece) Yugoslavia invested heavily in Macedonian culture. The language was codified, institutes were created for preserving folk heritage, and resources were made available for archaeology and historical preservation. As a traditionally poor region, Macedonia benefited a great deal from the Yugoslav federal structure.
So, take a hypothetical case. If I were, say, an electrician in Yugoslav Macedonia, I would probably belong to some sort of state-sponsored guild, and would be guaranteed a job for life. This 'job for life' opens up the opportunity for credit (hey, a job-for-life is a safe bet for bank) and I'd be able to get an apartment, maybe a car, and all the trappings of a relatively comfortable life pretty quickly. Every company or guild or union 'owned' its own vacation resort (from government resorts on the Croatian coast to municipal garbage-men unions on small lakes here in Macedonia), and I would be able to take a month-long vacation every year at my company's place. Other, once-in-a-decade or so trips might be organized for Greece, or something like that. My passport gives me visa-free access to all of Western Europe, no travel restrictions. And, compared to neighboring Albania, Bulgaria, and yes, pre-EU northern Greece, I've got a spectacular standard of living.
If I were that same electrician today, I would be facing 30% official unemployment and a maze of tax regulations. My passport isn't all that great anywhere but the former Yugoslavia, because now I need an expensive and time-consuming visa for the UK, Western Europe, and Greece. The economy isn't all that great, because instead of Macedonian goods competing in the Yugoslav common market, they have to compete against the EU and all other former Communist nations. And odds are, I'm still living with my parents, because real estate is in short supply in Skopje and I just couldn't afford it. The future looks uncertain with regards to EU membership. And while a lot of people have made a lot of money since splitting with Yugoslavia, things may not be looking up for me.
This is an imaginary situation, of course. But I hope it illustrates the relative decline of some people's standard of living after the fall of Yugoslavia, and helps make clear why anyone would be nostalgic for socialism.
Of course, if you talk to young professionals, there's a whole different outlook: they often decry the "Yugoslav" mentality of the older generation as a very negative, anti-progress, anti-growth sort of thing. But that's for another post.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Six Months in . . . #2
Hello, my name is Set.
That's not a typo. For the past six months, to all non-Americans, I am known as Set. There is no Macedonian equivalent for the English 'th' sound. This is actually pretty common - just think back to any movies you've seen with stereotypical foreign accents. Usually they'll pronounce "the" as "dee", or something like that.
Also, in the Macedonian language, you pronounce every letter. There's none of this silent letter stuff we have in English. If a Macedonian reads my name (I hand them my card, or something like that) oftentimes they'll pronounce my name as "Set-kha", since the 'H' in Macedonian is a sort of aspirated k-sound in the back of the throat. It sounds like a short hacking cough.
It's really difficult to make a sound that isn't native to your language, and only Macedonians who are especially fluent in English, or have lived in the West for a long period of time, are able to do it naturally. Our equivalent would be the rolling r-sound in Spanish. Some people just can't do it.
So, to make things easier, I have become Set. This is also the name of the Egyptian god of Chaos and Death, which a surprising number of people seem to know. It also has the same meaning as a 'set' in English - like a dinner set, or a bedroom set. This often confuses people as well, so I usually have to explain myself anyway. And it usually doesn't help.
That's not a typo. For the past six months, to all non-Americans, I am known as Set. There is no Macedonian equivalent for the English 'th' sound. This is actually pretty common - just think back to any movies you've seen with stereotypical foreign accents. Usually they'll pronounce "the" as "dee", or something like that.
Also, in the Macedonian language, you pronounce every letter. There's none of this silent letter stuff we have in English. If a Macedonian reads my name (I hand them my card, or something like that) oftentimes they'll pronounce my name as "Set-kha", since the 'H' in Macedonian is a sort of aspirated k-sound in the back of the throat. It sounds like a short hacking cough.
It's really difficult to make a sound that isn't native to your language, and only Macedonians who are especially fluent in English, or have lived in the West for a long period of time, are able to do it naturally. Our equivalent would be the rolling r-sound in Spanish. Some people just can't do it.
So, to make things easier, I have become Set. This is also the name of the Egyptian god of Chaos and Death, which a surprising number of people seem to know. It also has the same meaning as a 'set' in English - like a dinner set, or a bedroom set. This often confuses people as well, so I usually have to explain myself anyway. And it usually doesn't help.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Six Months in . . . #1
I've realized that I've been here in Macedonia for more than half a year. As with my other experience living abroad, it both feels like I've been here far longer than six months, and that my friends, my graduation from DePauw, are all only a few months back. It's odd, to say the least.
So, in the interests of innumerable, meaningless, pop-psychology buzzwords, I thought I'd write about how I've changed since moving to Macedonia. I'll start out with a big one:
My lungs are probably as black as coal.
Almost everyone here smokes. I've spent a good deal of time around smokers, in numerous bars where such a barbaric practice is still allowed, and I thought I could handle it. Honestly, though, I don't think anybody born after the Surgeon General went crazy on smokers understands how much of a non-smoking nation the United States really is. When people smoke, you tend to notice it. You can smell the tobacco.
It didn't take me long to adapt here, mostly because I was saturated with cigarette smoke from the moment I arrived. Cheap cigarettes cost about a dollar a pack, and if anyone runs out, there's no problem bumming on off anyone nearby. 'Non-smoking' sections in restaurants - even the university - are only for show, because people smoke right next to the signs. Non-smoking areas in cafes or bars are nonexistent. I don't notice it, it doesn't bother me, and I can't usually smell tobacco smoke. There are times, usually at clubs, where there's so much smoke that the smokers themselves complain, in between puffs, and I go to sleep hacking and coughing afterwards.
And the most interesting thing is that, despite my being in the tiny minority here, everyone is incredibly gracious. I can be sitting in a smoke-filled bar, the only non-smoker at a table, and without fail everyone asks me whether I mind if they smoke. Guests in my apartment always ask to smoke on the balcony. It's a small courtesy, but it's appreciated.
Add to that the really terrible, hazy pollution that rests over Skopje for most of the year,and the creaking, exhaust spewing 70's Zastava cars, I'm probably cutting off a few years just by going outside.
But I'll be damned if I don't enjoy it.
So, in the interests of innumerable, meaningless, pop-psychology buzzwords, I thought I'd write about how I've changed since moving to Macedonia. I'll start out with a big one:
My lungs are probably as black as coal.
Almost everyone here smokes. I've spent a good deal of time around smokers, in numerous bars where such a barbaric practice is still allowed, and I thought I could handle it. Honestly, though, I don't think anybody born after the Surgeon General went crazy on smokers understands how much of a non-smoking nation the United States really is. When people smoke, you tend to notice it. You can smell the tobacco.
It didn't take me long to adapt here, mostly because I was saturated with cigarette smoke from the moment I arrived. Cheap cigarettes cost about a dollar a pack, and if anyone runs out, there's no problem bumming on off anyone nearby. 'Non-smoking' sections in restaurants - even the university - are only for show, because people smoke right next to the signs. Non-smoking areas in cafes or bars are nonexistent. I don't notice it, it doesn't bother me, and I can't usually smell tobacco smoke. There are times, usually at clubs, where there's so much smoke that the smokers themselves complain, in between puffs, and I go to sleep hacking and coughing afterwards.
And the most interesting thing is that, despite my being in the tiny minority here, everyone is incredibly gracious. I can be sitting in a smoke-filled bar, the only non-smoker at a table, and without fail everyone asks me whether I mind if they smoke. Guests in my apartment always ask to smoke on the balcony. It's a small courtesy, but it's appreciated.
Add to that the really terrible, hazy pollution that rests over Skopje for most of the year,and the creaking, exhaust spewing 70's Zastava cars, I'm probably cutting off a few years just by going outside.
But I'll be damned if I don't enjoy it.
The Macedonian Elections
Sunday, March 22, is Election Day for Macedonia. President (a largely ceremonial post in this parliamentary system), Skopje Mayor, and municipal mayors and councils all around the country will be picked today. Or not, because low voter turnout and numerous candidates usually necessitate a second round of elections after the first. That's the best I can do. As much as I am interested in politics, as an American, I absolutely refuse to attempt to understand how a parliamentary democracy functions. One-issue party platforms? Coalitions?! It's all very disturbing and, frankly, nonsensical.
The ruling party, VMRO, is expected to maintain and most likely increase in power, as the main opposition Social Democrats have collapsed lately. If you're actually interested in the internal politics of Macedonia, here is BalkanInsight's Macedonian Election Center. An even better read would be Justin's summary, which I really, really suggest you read.
The last major elections were marred by violence, and there is a worry that new incidents could occur, although most people don't seem to be too worried about it. The violent incidents really harmed Macedonia's progress towards the European Union, so it's important to keep things civil this time around.
Two personal observations:
1.Billboards for candidates are everywhere in Skopje, and elections here are pretty complicated - a Skopje resident has five pages of ballots to fill out. For this reason, the candidates are numbered, and this number appears on the campaign advertisements. This makes them look exactly like advertisements for local news programs to those who speak little or no Macedonian, with the candidate number as the channel. Take this example for Gjorge Ivanov, the presidential candidate for the ruling Macedonian party, VMRO:
Tell me that doesn't look like a morning show on your local NBC affiliate. His slogan in the corner, 'Eden za site' = 'One for All'.
2. I have been getting lots of free stuff. In the past months, groups of supporters for candidates have come to my door. These groups seem pretty targeted: one composed of elderly pensioners, one of blue-collar looking middle-age guys, and one group of attractive 20-something women. They shove notebooks, pens, flyers, etc., in my face and start trying to sell me on their candidate (or gauge my support for someone else). I just tell them I'm a foreigner and collect my prizes. I'm not sure, but I think this sort of thing would be a pretty huge violation of election law in the States. VMRO's people stopped at my door last night, and I got a neon-orange hat for Vladimir Todorovik (Skopje Mayor), a strawberry-scented Gjorge Ivanov (President) air freshener, and a flyer for Ivanov. Neither my wearing of this neon orange hat, nor my freshly strawberry-scented bathroom, constitute an endorsement of any candidate.
Here's to you, Lady Democracy. I hope you have one hell of a weekend.
The ruling party, VMRO, is expected to maintain and most likely increase in power, as the main opposition Social Democrats have collapsed lately. If you're actually interested in the internal politics of Macedonia, here is BalkanInsight's Macedonian Election Center. An even better read would be Justin's summary, which I really, really suggest you read.
The last major elections were marred by violence, and there is a worry that new incidents could occur, although most people don't seem to be too worried about it. The violent incidents really harmed Macedonia's progress towards the European Union, so it's important to keep things civil this time around.
Two personal observations:
1.Billboards for candidates are everywhere in Skopje, and elections here are pretty complicated - a Skopje resident has five pages of ballots to fill out. For this reason, the candidates are numbered, and this number appears on the campaign advertisements. This makes them look exactly like advertisements for local news programs to those who speak little or no Macedonian, with the candidate number as the channel. Take this example for Gjorge Ivanov, the presidential candidate for the ruling Macedonian party, VMRO:
Tell me that doesn't look like a morning show on your local NBC affiliate. His slogan in the corner, 'Eden za site' = 'One for All'.
2. I have been getting lots of free stuff. In the past months, groups of supporters for candidates have come to my door. These groups seem pretty targeted: one composed of elderly pensioners, one of blue-collar looking middle-age guys, and one group of attractive 20-something women. They shove notebooks, pens, flyers, etc., in my face and start trying to sell me on their candidate (or gauge my support for someone else). I just tell them I'm a foreigner and collect my prizes. I'm not sure, but I think this sort of thing would be a pretty huge violation of election law in the States. VMRO's people stopped at my door last night, and I got a neon-orange hat for Vladimir Todorovik (Skopje Mayor), a strawberry-scented Gjorge Ivanov (President) air freshener, and a flyer for Ivanov. Neither my wearing of this neon orange hat, nor my freshly strawberry-scented bathroom, constitute an endorsement of any candidate.
Here's to you, Lady Democracy. I hope you have one hell of a weekend.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Macedonian Economic Situation
I spend an inordinate amount of time online, reading about all the terrible things that are happening to the economy back in the United States, and also in the UK, Ireland, Greece, the rest of the EU, Asia. . . etc. Banks collapse, loans are defaulted on, and all sorts of rotten domino-effects are knocking down innocent bystanders. Several people have asked me how the Macedonian economy is weathering this long-term storm, so I'll attempt to sum it up here. Please keep in mind that an attempt at economic analysis on my part is like a blind man writing a novel with alphabet magnets on a refrigerator.
It's really difficult to get an overall sense of the Macedonian economy. Accurate statistics are very, very hard to come by because a good deal of trade and employment is done in a less-than-legal fashion. Officially, there is 30% unemployment, and there has been for quite awhile, but a good chunk of those 'unemployed' are just skirting around tax laws. Macedonia has always been relatively poor, which probably helps a bit in this particular crisis, because Stopanska Bank wasn't playing the international market on sub-prime mortgages. The Government has thrown out a stimulus package, mostly of infrastructure spending, of 8 billion euro. I haven't heard any chatter about banks defaulting, and all the news stories about "Eastern Europe going bankrupt" or the EU denying emergency loans to 'Eastern Europe' pertain mostly to places like Hungary or Poland. Aside from the riots in Greece (and smaller-scale unrest in Sofia, Bulgaria) there hasn't been much trouble in the Balkans so far.
That being said, there are problems on the horizon. Most of Macedonia's exports are meant for the construction sector - metals, minerals, rock, etc. As the European economy slows, construction slows, and therefore orders for Macedonian exports dwindle. The Macedonian denar is pegged to the Euro, so if the Euro currency runs into trouble, it could take the denar with it. Finally, a great deal of income here consists of remittances from abroad - Macedonians working elsewhere and sending money home - so as Western European economies suffer, so will Macedonia.
That's my best shot at short-term economic analysis, using all my training as a part-time mechanic and Classical Studies major. Take it for what you will.
It's really difficult to get an overall sense of the Macedonian economy. Accurate statistics are very, very hard to come by because a good deal of trade and employment is done in a less-than-legal fashion. Officially, there is 30% unemployment, and there has been for quite awhile, but a good chunk of those 'unemployed' are just skirting around tax laws. Macedonia has always been relatively poor, which probably helps a bit in this particular crisis, because Stopanska Bank wasn't playing the international market on sub-prime mortgages. The Government has thrown out a stimulus package, mostly of infrastructure spending, of 8 billion euro. I haven't heard any chatter about banks defaulting, and all the news stories about "Eastern Europe going bankrupt" or the EU denying emergency loans to 'Eastern Europe' pertain mostly to places like Hungary or Poland. Aside from the riots in Greece (and smaller-scale unrest in Sofia, Bulgaria) there hasn't been much trouble in the Balkans so far.
That being said, there are problems on the horizon. Most of Macedonia's exports are meant for the construction sector - metals, minerals, rock, etc. As the European economy slows, construction slows, and therefore orders for Macedonian exports dwindle. The Macedonian denar is pegged to the Euro, so if the Euro currency runs into trouble, it could take the denar with it. Finally, a great deal of income here consists of remittances from abroad - Macedonians working elsewhere and sending money home - so as Western European economies suffer, so will Macedonia.
That's my best shot at short-term economic analysis, using all my training as a part-time mechanic and Classical Studies major. Take it for what you will.
The Via Egnatia Project
(A View from Hotel Molika)Two weekends ago, I found myself in a mountaintop hotel, with a snowstorm raging outside. A Turkish woman was shoving candied pistachios at me while two Dutch women and a Greek danced to a traditional Balkan folk tune. The air was full of cigarette smoke - cheap Galoises for the Macedonians, and crooked, tiny hand-rolled tobacco for the Dutch. Everyone was engaged in English conversation, though at that point I was the only native speaker among thirty or so Dutch, Albanians, Turks, Macedonians, and Greeks. These nationalities were further split between various disciplines. There were historians, ethnomusicologists, ethnologists, anthropologists, cultural heritage experts, archaeologists, marketing and business professionals, and a good number of other vague academic fields. Why? The Via Egnatia Project, of course.
(Ancient Heraclea - Theatre)The Via Egnatia is an ancient Roman road that ran from Istanbul to the port of Durres on the Albanian coast (wikipedia article here) by way of Thessaloniki, and the ancient towns of Heraclea, near Bitola, and Lychnidos, near Ohrid, in the Republic of Macedonia. It was a major highway, and really the best link between Rome and Constantinople. It fell into disuse sometime during the Ottoman period, and in many places has disappeared.
The Via Egnatia project is directed toward restoring this road, both in abstract and concrete terms, as a general link between the cultures of Albania, Greece, Macedonia, and Turkey. The Dutch Embassy sponsored all of the aformentioned academics and professionals to spend a weekend brainstorming at the Hotel Molika on Pelister Mountain near Bitola, and I was lucky enough to attend. I sat in on the 'Archaeology and Monuments' conference section, though I doubt I was of much help.
The next big project of the foundation is a caravan along the presumed route of the Via Egnatia, beginning in the spring. I'll keep my eye on it.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Side Projects
I wrote a book review of "A Brief History of the Late Ottoman Empire" for Balkanalysis.com.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
American Birthdays
I spent this past Saturday with some friends at a really spectacular new winery, Popova Kula, just outside of Demir Kapija in the heart of the Macedonian wine country. The building is brand new, but built with traditional aesthetics in mind. Everything was extremely tasteful. We were celebrating an American birthday with wine and appetizers in the tower.
In Macedonia, whenever an American is holding a birthday party, the invitations specifically say that it will be an American-style birthday. While I wish this meant that every American's birthday celebrated over here is full of barbecue, fireworks, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, it actually means "I'm not paying for you."
In Macedonian culture, the birthday boy/girl is expected to take their friends out for drinks, pay for dinner, or even give small gifts to their guests. This isn't restricted to birthdays. In most any celebration for something gained - say, a promotion, a new house, an award - whomever is being celebrated is expected to treat everyone else. This doesn't necessarily hold true across the board, as each celebration has separate rules, but generally this is the case.
For me, at least, this was very difficult to grasp. It just doesn't make any sense. Friends are supposed to celebrate a birthday by pitching in, giving gifts. We have housewarming parties. If a buddy gets a new job, or graduates from a program, I feel like I ought to buy him a beer. This is American cultural context, and it can lead to some "Who's on First" type discussions when a bill is delivered:
Macedonian: Thanks for coming to my party.
American: No, it was great, here, how much are we chipping in for you?
Macedonian: What? No, it's my celebration. I'm paying.
American: Right. It's a celebration . . .for you. You don't pay.
Macedonian: No, that's why I do pay.
And so on.
I was talking to Eric about this sort of thing, wondering aloud why this is completely inverted. He suggested that, since Macedonia is a traditional society, community and family based, you don't want to get too far ahead of people. You've got the honor of a birthday celebration, or some other event, but you don't want to seem too high and mighty. So you pay, spread the wealth, to make sure that nobody begins to resent you for your success.
America, on the other hand, is more or less meritocratic. In general, we celebrate someone else's success not only because we're proud of the person, but also because we expect to be successful ourselves. We don't resent John Doe's promotion, because gosh darnit, we're just as hard working as him, so we'll be celebrating our own promotions some day.
I'm not sure if this is actually the case, but it sounds good to me, at least in theory. I'd welcome anyone to correct me if I'm wrong.
It's interesting, nonetheless.
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