Week Seven: Peja

Kosovo's constitution expresses progressive values such as gender equality, and nondiscrimination based on race, sex, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc. Legally these rights are protected, and measures called 'positive discrimination' are allowed on a temporary basis to promote goals like gender parity. Still, just because something is 'officially' a value does not mean that society agrees. 

What is life like in Kosovo for women, minorities, and LGBTQ+ individuals? 

From what my female coworkers have told me, life has many more opportunities than it did pre-Independence. Social acceptance for women having independence increased, and more and more women are entering the workforce. When I grab drinks with my coworkers after work, they are bright, funny, and open. They look forward to their future and careers. Unlike their mothers, do not feel societal pressure to wait until they are engaged to hold hands in public. Things are not perfect-- domestic violence remains an issue, traditional patriarchal standards loom in the background, and women are still significantly more likely to leave the workforce after having children. Prishtina, a young city filled with opportunities, culture, and the university, is not necessarily representative of Kosovo as a whole. 

LGBTQ+ rights have seen legal progress as well; however, they remain controversial amongst the general public. Every year, the city of Peja holds a film and music festival called Anibar. This is Peja's only festival, and usually draws a gigantic crowd. This year, the theme was love-- with a rainbow. I went to Peja to stay with my coworker and her family. Peja is incredibly beautiful, with steep mountains and two rivers. It is also the maker of the best beer in Kosovo. My co-worker grew up going to Anibar, begging her older siblings to take her when she was too young to get in alone. Local high school students usually volunteer to set up and host the event. This year, she was disappointed-- the crowd at the festival was about a third of what it usually is. Still, many young people were in attendance. Some older people expressed their support as well. A dialogue was started in the town, and important conversations about LGBTQ+ rights were had. A community many people did not realize existed amongst their neighbors became visible. People were able to match the faces of those they grew up with what was before an abstract concept, disconnected from their day-to-day lives. In a show of support, the prime minister of Kosovo came on the second to last night of the festival. I sat a little behind him, next to an angry-looking security guard.  As short animated films about love in its many different forms was projected over a small man-made lake, the mountains in the distance, progress in some form or another was made.