Profiling: Kosovar Women

Her name means 'River' in English. She's a bright ray of sunshine- genuinely sweet and beautiful on the outside as well. She recently just had her second child; another girl (girls aren't considered a blessing in this culture). She lives in the poorest area of my city; a place we've come to know as the Konvikt. Basically "konvikt" means, in Albanian, "dormitory". That's what the building was; back in the day, before the war. However, it has come to be a revolting place, filled with the poor whom have nowhere else to go (rumor has it that they're going to be kicked out in the coming weeks). Months have gone by without having electricity. The only water source in the building is found downstairs in what should be called a pit. The smell from "the pit" radiates throughout the entire building, often making me want to gag when I enter the hallway. Our friend, River, lives on the second floor, right next to the stairwell leading down "the pit". Her "house" is one room. Paint peeling, mold growing, mats on the floor to serve as both a couch and a bed, a small stove that looks like it's barely standing, and a small container against the wall that holds 2 of a few different utensils and things. That's what her room consists of. That's it. That's her entire world. She stays inside that room nearly all day, caring for her 2 young children, and trying to survive. Her husband, young and handsome as well, has no job. He leaves each morning to go sit on the side of the road, eagerly waiting to be hired out for some random job. The reality, though, is that what money he will acquire probably will go to a prostitute or perhaps a night out with his friends. And while as bad as this all sounds, she's one of the fortunate ones. Her husband hasn't left her...yet.

Her name means 'Hope' in English. We aren't entirely sure if the story she's told us is the truth, but there's no one else to ask, so it's all we have to go on. She turned up in the hospital, for a second time in a matter of months, covered in bruises, blood, and sliced up wrists. She'd been beaten and then tried to kill herself. The police, surprisingly, rescued her and didn't force her to go back home to the father that had beat her. She'd been farmed out to an uncle as a child; not even she knows why. However, her uncle and cousin died in the war. A few years later her aunt passed away as well, thus forcing her to go back to the family that didn't want her. For five years she lived with them, struggling to survive, until that day in the hospital. She was taken to a woman's shelter and remained there for 8 months. Never returning home. She has nowhere to go, wasn't able to finish high school (therefore not being able to attend college or get a job), and her father and brothers said they'd kill her if they found her.

Her name means 'Day's Near' in English. She's reached her early thirties, well past the normal marrying age, and yet she's still single. A BIG no no in this culture. If you pass mid-twenties still single, it is pretty much impossible to marry. While there are still guys that aren't married in that age bracket, it is nearly 100% of the time true that they'll find a younger woman and marry her. So, you live with your family, serving them, for your entire life. Desperation sets in, and you want out...whatever the cost. 'Day's Near' found a man online who promised her a better life. She married him after a few months, without telling any of her friends or church members. If she gets a visa she will set off for the West for a life of loneliness and sorrow. She's married a man older than her whose profession is trucking. He has no "home", no family, no place to settle down. So, this innocent, village girl, that'd never been away from her parents will go far, far away, out into the unknown. She thinks this will be better...

You want a job? Try to crack into these women's lives. Try to offer them hope, life, and salvation. Many times the response given is disbelief and laughter. The women here are rough. They've lived through a war. They've lost husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, uncles, nephews, grandfathers, and grandsons all in a single day. They don't have microwaves, store bought food, dryers, computers, or any other modern conveniences. They can still remember the first time they saw a car, a television, or even electricity. They have one thing on their mind: survival. The cost doesn't matter to them- they will fight and they will make it...

There's a story that a friend of mine tells about a program to help a village full of widows right after the war finished. They did some micro loans and set up a plan to purchase a cow for each widow in this village. The plan was for the widows to produce products to sell in the market and eventually pay off the loan. Well, the women got to talking, as women do, and the entire village decided to rebel against paying off their loan. Not a single one of them paid a penny towards their cow!

While that story makes me chuckle, it really touches the heart of the women here. It is back-stabbing, gossiping, betrayal...whatever it takes to get ahead, survive, or maybe even win. It's frustrating, because it happens and happens a lot- even to us that have helped and given so much of our time, resources, and love. It hurts and hurts deeply. I've cried many tears and sat with many other women as they cried their tears.

I feel like all my blogs lately are reaching the same conclusions...I present a problem and then leave it hanging. The reality is that that is just where I'm at. I've been given the blessing of living here long enough to see problems and pains. But I've also been given another blessing, one that I didn't possess when I first arrived: that of not having any answers. You may think I mean humility, but the reality of that one is that I still know my sinful heart! Most people arrive into a culture, full of zeal to fix all the problems they encounter- well, us Westerns do anyway. But right now I'm just at a place of observing. I'm not asking you to fix or provide answers, either. I just want to build awareness. If that bothers you- I'm sorry, but that's all I have for the time being...