The war that made ‘me or not’ just another face in the crowd

Abstract

An unusual advert published in a local newspaper in the midst of summer 1999 calling for potential volunteers and donations in view of the Kosovo war, landed me in a post-war hotspot. I was not shy to voluntary work since I had been frequently dragged along to various hands-on activities by my parents; both of whom are very active in different social fields mainly related to disability and addictions. After having surpassed the screening process, within a few days from the cease fire I flew in to Tirana, Albania wherein the Maltese Dominican community in Durres helped coordinate the journey to Pristina, capital of Kosovo. Landing in Albania was already an extraordinary experience in itself; for instance, the absence of monitors indicating the location of the conveyor belt to collect luggage. Luggage were just piled up outside the exit of the airport! Once in the city, Durres, no strolls were allowed as I was warned that it is dangerous for a woman to roam about. Also, opening the shutters that heavily covered the bedroom windows was prohibited as this would attract snipers. Just one evening in Albania which definitely served as an appetiser of what was yet to come.