As I was making my way through the Balkans, I was trying to make up my mind as to whether I should visit Kosovo. After asking the owner of the hostel that I was staying at in Lake Ohrid whether Kosovo was worth visiting, he said that it wasn’t anything special and that I can skip it. In Sofia, an Italian guy living in Romania who was staying in my hostel, was telling me about how he’s heard stories from people that have been to Kosovo. He didn’t get into much detail other than saying in an ominous tone that “shit goes down in Kosovo.”

Intrigued, I decided I would make the journey to check out this country that usually goes under the radar for many tourists. My only knowledge of Kosovo was of the war that broke out when I was in junior high, which I remember was on the nightly news for months. At that time, I had no idea where Kosovo was other than it being in Europe. Who knew I’d be visiting it many years later!

From Sofia, I got on a bus back to the silly city of Skopje, where I spent a night. From Skopje, there was only one bus that departs to Kosovo daily. It took just under 3 hours to cross the border to get to Kosovo with my first stop being Prizren, the second most populous city in the country.

Prizren is known as the historical capital of the country, which is very evident walking around the city centre.

I walked up to the fortress overlooking the city. which was inhabited since 2000 BC.

While one side of the fortress overlooks the city, the other side provides a view of the Sharr Mountains. It was only after meeting some Germans in my hostel, who had just finished a multi-day hike through the Rugova Mountains, that I learned that Kosovo is a destination for hikers, although not yet mainstream as other popular destinations. Perhaps one day, I’ll return to specifically go hiking.

Prizren slowly started to light up as night started to fall. Built in 1615, the Sinan Pasha Mosque from the Ottoman period can be seen in the foreground.

Walking along the Prizren River, lit up by the lamp posts and cafes/restaurants in the evening, felt quite romantic. Too bad I was by myself, ha. After an unforgettable night in Prizren, I took a bus to the capital and also the largest city in Kosovo, Pristina.

My first day in Pristina started off with a bang. Literally. I came across a beautiful building that had caught my eye while wandering around central Pristina. I entered the courtyard, which I felt was drawing me in, and was almost immediately greeted by the men who were casually gathered outside socializing. If you haven’t guessed already, the building was a mosque, the Great Mosque or Xhamia e Madhe as known locally. The men were curious about where I was from and what the hell I was doing in Kosovo. They welcomed me inside to look around and even encouraged me to take pictures. I felt like I was part of their congregation from how they made me feel right at home.

This kid (I forget his name, so let’s call him Unik) who came up to me at the mosque, kept following me around and wouldn’t leave my side. Unik seemed really eager to speak to a foreigner, but he only knew a few words in English. It was a bit difficult to communicate, but we somehow managed to understand each other half the time. He gave me a tour of the mosque and even pulled out the Quran to read me a passage.

After touring the mosque inside, we went outside to the peaceful courtyard that I had initially been drawn to. I fell into a conversation with a man from the congregation who was very curious about where I was from, my background, and what the hell I was doing in Kosovo.

As our conversation got deeper while standing underneath the shade cast from the rotunda, the sound of an intense sonic boom coming from the street a few feet away scared the shit out of me. The sound of the explosion was unlike something I’ve ever heard before. It was like a muzzle blast. If I could compare it to anything, it was like the sound that a garbage truck or bus makes when it brakes, except it was a hundred times louder and ended in a deafening explosion. I asked the guy that I was talking to what the hell that sound was, but he just shrugged it off and said that it was probably nothing. Although his reassurance still left me feeling uneasy, I took the man’s word and we continued talking. It didn’t take long until we noticed that the men from the mosque were heading outside towards the street where a crowd had started to gather.

Unik (who was still following me around) and I, ventured out onto the street where traffic had come to a standstill. A crowd had gathered around a minivan that had the driver’s side door wide open and blood smeared all over the seat. I asked around to see if anyone knew what had happened and was told that some guy had walked up to the van with an assault weapon, shot the guy inside, and ran away. After being shot, the guy in the van was apparently carried away to the hospital. It was a targeted execution.

The police eventually came and cordoned off the area. It was hard for me to believe that a targeted execution had unfolded just a few feet away from me. I wish I had learned the full story behind what had happened (I guess I’ll never find out), but I’m going to guess that the fallout from the Kosovo War, which happened not that long ago, is still reverberating to this day and flares up occasionally.

Speaking of the War in Kosovo, a statue of Bill Clinton was erected in Pristina as a gesture to commemorate hIs part in liberating Kosovo from Serbian forces. I distinctly remember the bombing campaign that Bill Clinton began against Serbia. I also recall many accusing Clinton’s bombing as a way to deflect attention away from his sex scandal involving Monica Lewinsky, to wag the dog as they say. I would even say that the Monica Lewinsky scandal was one of the defining moments of growing up as a teenager in the 90s. To me and probably my generation, Bill Clinton will always be known as the president that got BJs from his intern. That’s why I had a smirk on my face the whole time I was there and couldn’t miss visiting the monument dedicated to the one and only, Bill Clinton. The statue may have even been the main reason why I came to visit Kosovo in the first place…just kidding…kind of…

Like most cities in the Balkans, Pristina is a mish mash of traditional, random, and ugly brutalist buildings.

Yikes.

The National Library of Kosovo is quite possibly one of the most striking examples of brutalist architecture in Pristina. I can’t decide whether it’s ugly or beautiful. What do you think?

One of the advantages of travelling in Kosovo is how affordable it is for the average Westerner. It comes as a huge relief to a backpacker on a budget.

There were many political demonstrations going on in the centre of Pristina. I didn’t know what they were for, but I could tell that the tensions between the Serbs and ethnic Albanians was still raw.

As the sun started to set, I bought Unik some ice cream before we parted ways. I couldn’t help but wonder where his parents were and what they would have thought about him following a complete stranger around Pristina for the entire day. More importantly, I couldn’t stop thinking about whether what I had witnessed earlier that day was something that was just a part of everyday life for Unik. To be exposed to so much from such an early age is a sober reality in many parts of the world, especially ones that have been scarred by war.

Before arriving, I didn’t quite know what to expect in Kosovo, or what the hell I was going to do there. Though my bunkmate in Sofia was right about one thing. Shit definitely goes down in Kosovo.