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M I N U T E S T O WA R : Picnic in Hell<br />
Dominic: ‘Which situation?’<br />
Ardian: ‘That war in Kosovo. When I see these<br />
refugees and the way they live it is hard and too<br />
hard to write something beautiful when you have<br />
this sadness.’<br />
Dominic: ‘I agree.’<br />
opened and a gentle cocktail party is underway but<br />
I know it is something more sinister. It is not peace<br />
time and even though Firouz says this is an occupied<br />
city with NATO remaining unseen just as the enemy<br />
is unseen, nonetheless the soldiers walk around in<br />
army fatigues and different fashion camouflage.<br />
Firouz is becoming more angry and difficult as we<br />
both become frustrated by this situation. I know it is<br />
not his fault. He is requesting schedules to be made,<br />
and the schedules have to be continuously broken<br />
because nothing here is fixed or guaranteed. He<br />
expects it to be peace time but here circumstances<br />
change from minute to minute. We have a new<br />
translator Ardian who we found at the ‘America Bar’.<br />
I have just decided to interview him.<br />
Dominic: ‘This is Ardian who is helping us as an<br />
assistant here. He is a student from Rreshen and he<br />
wants to become a writer and hopefully he will.’<br />
Ardian: ‘Greetings from Rreshen. I think this<br />
situation has to be resolved soon, I hope; God<br />
willing. I am praying everyday that God helps these<br />
people to be back soon to their places. God willing.’<br />
Dominic: ‘Do you want to tell me something about<br />
yourself?’<br />
Ardian: ‘No; top secret. Okay, My name is Ardian,<br />
I am the camera assistant, I am twenty two years old<br />
and I work as an interpreter.’<br />
Dominic: ‘Does that mean that no one will ever<br />
know about who you are?’<br />
Ardian: ‘Once again.’<br />
Dominic: ‘No one will know who you are?’<br />
Ardian: ‘My diary and my books.’<br />
Dominic: ‘Are you writing at the moment?’<br />
Ardian: ‘I am writing to my brain and I will put it<br />
to letters.’<br />
Dominic: ‘When will this happen?’<br />
Ardian: ‘It is just temporary. It will happen soon.’<br />
Dominic: ‘You have been slowly hatching this<br />
situation and it will take time to be born.’<br />
Ardian: ‘Perhaps now my mind is a little bit<br />
confused. What I wanted to write before was just a<br />
story of my life and some events that happened into<br />
my life but now everything has completely changed<br />
because of that situation.’<br />
After our discussion we also went to one of the<br />
camps to interview a different family while we were<br />
waiting to erect the billboards. After a few meetings<br />
with different families we encountered one who<br />
became friends. In the Italian camp I saw Olyinda,<br />
and the family of Bejta Dervish. She was one of<br />
his daughters who was only eighteen, and in this<br />
instance she was the only person throughout my<br />
entire time here with whom I had a connection but<br />
not as a romantic bonding. Even though it was only<br />
eye contact from this day I will never know whether<br />
it was something greater than what I thought it<br />
was or whether it was nothing. Because we never<br />
spoke. As I left the parents’ house she would tie my<br />
shoelaces. She was<br />
boyish and had short<br />
cropped hair. She<br />
was tall, gangly and<br />
had an abstract look,<br />
and would be lost in<br />
a strange thought<br />
process that was<br />
alien to all around<br />
her. For me that was<br />
really attractive.<br />
Like Ardian she was<br />
one of two people with whom I felt connected and<br />
special. Maybe also the widow.<br />
(Note: I was to later meet a man called Josi<br />
who I also felt a deep connection)<br />
We were not without friends, although our<br />
friends were limited in this place where a foreigner<br />
was both prince and leper. It was in the Greek camp<br />
I visited Bejta to see Olyinda and her family. The<br />
Greeks, who had established the camp close to the<br />
United Arab Emirates camp, had fifteen thousand<br />
refugees. When I saw Olyinda she guided me straight<br />
to her particular tent. Entering I met her father. I<br />
did a pencil sketch portrait of him. The drawing was<br />
clumsy, even bad and it made him appear sad and<br />
worn out. But polite he looked at it and said that is a<br />
picture of an old sad man, and I felt terrible. I tried<br />
to explain to the family that I am not good at doing<br />
portraiture but under the circumstances and due to<br />
Ardian’s faulty translations it was not communicated.<br />
Bejta Dervish introduces himself: ‘Bejta Dervish.’<br />
As we shake hands I introduce myself, ‘Dominic<br />
Ryan.’ Turning to Ardian, I said: ‘tell them that this<br />
is not easy for me and every interview, or every
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