When the opportunity arose to get my book translated into Albanian last year, little did I know the journey I had started, one that came to an extraordinary conclusion in March this year.
When I stood up in front of the country’s media and assembled guests, which included two former Prime Ministers and the current British Ambassador, I had already featured on live TV twice and had been widely quoted via the Kosovo Press Agency. All in two and a half days.
To say the first few hours were a whirlwind would be an understatement. Arriving at Pristina Airport for the first time since 2009 (I had flown into Skopje when I came back to research the book in 2018) brought back many memories. My translator and lifelong friend Simi was waiting for me in the arrivals hall. He is a man of few words and is very matter of fact. I hadn’t seen him for several years but a quick handshake and he was off, leading me out of the terminal to his car, which was parked (for free) right outside. Yes, right outside.
The short trip into the city was as confusing as I remember it from seven years earlier. The last time I entered Pristina I ended up asking a taxi driver to lead me to my hotel. This time I was in more competent hands and we were soon pulling up outside my accommodation for the week. A quick refresh and we were back on the road, heading over to the bookstore to meet the publisher, Artin Ahmeti. After getting up at 3.15am that morning, I was already living on adrenaline.
Although Artin and I had never met, it felt as if we had known each other forever, following months of WhatsApp conversations about the book.
No sooner had we headed over to his local cafe for a coffee and glass of water, Kosovo’s famed hospitality kicking in immediately, we were told that the journalist who was going to conduct my first media interview had arrived at the bookstore.
Genta Kadrija, a journalist who now works for the Kosovo Press Agency. had connected with me last year when she reached out for some comments about the levels of retention in the Kosovo Security Force, the very force I witnessed coming into existence in 2009.
Meeting in the bookstore owned by Artin, who that week had published the Albanian translation of the book, we spoke for about 30 minutes. The following morning the article was on the wires.
To be completely honest, it felt like I had never been away. Seeing old friends, meeting new ones, trips to TV studios and conversations with journalists, the week was like no other.
But I always seemed to return to Libraria Artini, sitting with Artin, drinking iced tea, discussing the world.
I was completely happy.
The following day, after some early morning meetings in the cafe at the Grand Hotel, I found myself with Simi, sitting under the roof of a temporary stand, watching the early stages of a parade involving hundreds of KSF troops in front of the PM and the President.
Seeing the troops all perfectly aligned, dressed smartly and singing in unison to the band’s music, made me unexpectedly proud and emotional. After all, I had been there on day one, when the newly born KSF had effectively been abandoned by KFOR.
I was only able to stay at the parade for a short time and, before the parade kicked off in earnest, Simi and I escaped into our car, parked a short walk away, and headed to the nearby Klan Kosova TV studios. There I met my old friend, Zija. Before I went on air, we managed to catch up over coffee. I love Zija’s company. He is an intelligent and thoughtful person and natural journalist who, like me, deeply values our friendship. Before I knew it, I was up and in the studio, book in hand, ready to talk to the citizens of Kosova on the lunchtime show.
Meeting Jehona Bajrami-Gashi and Kron Sadiku in the Kosova Today studio was a real treat. It was also the first time I had used simultaneous translation in person, which led to me waiting for a few seconds before answering the hosts’ questions. With my earpiece hidden from the cameras, I felt very self conscious that the audience would think me a little slow, waiting in silence as the questions were finished! I was reassured later that the audience was used to non Albanian speakers appearing on the show.
The following day was the book launch. But first we had the small matter of another TV appearance, this time on the national broadcaster’s breakfast programme. The staff at RTK were very kind and once again I was in the hands of a brilliant interpreter, who managed the translation with ease. And this time my earpiece was in full view of the cameras; I was a little happier!
The conversation with Fitim Majkovci and Rina Avdullahu was excellent; Rina had obviously studied the book. One normally expects an easy opening question, Instead, Rina dived straight into a moment, documented in the book, when I had an emotional Skype call with my young son (you would need to read the book to understand the significance).
In no time the interview was over and I was back in my hotel eating breakfast. And after the euphoria of being on national TV twice in two days, I walked over to the venue of the book launch, located next door to the Libaria Artini. But there was one final twist. No sooner had we all descended on Artin’s favourite cafe for a quick injection of caffeine, my old friend Xhavit Gashi had ordered a round of Raki. Once again I was drinking Raki before 10am in Kosovo, although this time I felt a little more in control. There’s nothing like drinking alcohol before appearing in front of the national media.
The event – my first ever in-person book launch – went as well as I could have hoped.
And so that just left one final meeting. The following day, in the last slot of the afternoon, I entered the waiting area outside the Prime Minister’s offices. As ever in Kosova, there was a twist.
As I waited, chatting to members of the PM’s staff, watched by several military officers in the uniform of the Italian Army, I knew what was about to happen.
And sure enough, within a few minutes, the Commander of KFOR, now a 2 star general, swept out of the PM’s office and away down the stairs, his entourage in tow. I said ‘Hello Sir’ when he noticed me, respectful as ever, but the irony of me being there to speak to the PM about a book that is openly critical of a 3 star Italian General, who was commanding KFOR during the period of the book, was not lost on anyone, including the PM.
And then I was heading home. It had been an extraordinary few days. I was exhausted, living on adrenaline from day one, but the book was now officially launched and it was finally available for the people of Kosova, as the book’s dedication made clear. Deeply satisfied, I had a strong sense that I had finally created a small, but important legacy for the people of Kosovo.
I just need to make sure it’s not another 7 years before coming back.
Ade Clewlow MBE 