KOSOVO 1999

M I N U T E S T O WA R : Picnic in Hell
Weird shit had been happening behind our
backs, like a delicate minuet of bad karma, but
we were too tired and too confused to see it.
So Monday came and it was a bad day, and then
it continued while the badness continued. Today we
had all of our film and video equipment stolen. A
long day. A long three weeks but it is war and so
you can’t have it both ways.
Sunday, 9th May, 1999, Kukes,
Albania
Sunday, was a day when not much is happening.
We spent the whole day procrastinating and waiting
for Mr Lymon to appear to give us the one ladder,
unlocked from his little office so we could get up
onto the roof through the manhole and let the
billboard down. As it turned out at about six that
evening we did this. My aching throat has been
getting increasingly worse and worse as the days
continue but even though the flu has not abated it is
manageable.
We have decided to leave on the Monday for
Tirana. The mission has been achieved and we are
intending on moving off to another area.
I said my last goodbye to Olyinda, or so I thought.
Upon returning Ardian and I went to the ‘America
Bar’ and had a few coffees and I was intending upon
meeting Firouz at 7.30pm. I showed up at 9.30pm
and he was angry like a father because I had failed to
return at the time I said would.
Because there had been major fighting in the hills
between the KLA and Serbian paramilitary close
to the border and spreading down towards Albania
Firouz was concerned about my safety. He was
worried that something could have happened but in
his unique approach he was incapable of expressing
this concern except through anger.
After dismantling the billboard we donated to Mr
Lymon the rusted metal pipes we had used. Standing
on the sandy tarmac beneath the site in the town
square I gazed momentarily down at my feet and
there was excrement all around us. We removed the
little pieces of tap. Children were following us and
it was a sweet and happy event as they assisted us
like a game. Standing around this shit and dust and
flied I think how the people of Kukes are submerged
in the earth and excrement. If it is not the mud, it
is the dust. And the dust just gets into us and I can
never really properly remove it.
Meanwhile something was nagging in my mind,
pulling desperately, whispering that something is
very, very wrong. People had been following us, I
guess it’s normal…let’s not get too paranoid. It’s not
home or anything.
Monday, 10th May 1999, Kukes,
Albania
Departure from Macedonia or at least so we
thought
Weird shit had been happening behind our backs,
like a delicate minuet of bad karma, but we were too
tired and too confused to see it. With people who
would say one thing in front of us and then tell us
another thing behind our back.
So Monday came and it was a bad day, and then
it continued while the badness continued. Today we
had all of our film and video equipment stolen. A