Nov 09 Survey - Biscarrosse

Every survey has a city that makes you want to crawl into a corner and die… or at the very least never go on survey again… Biscarrose, France was that city for this survey. It’s a town that’s maybe 100km southwest of Bordeaux. It’s a popular summer destination as the area has lakes, the coast, vineyards, Bordeaux, fun in the sun… and in the winter it has lonely rainy miserable versions of those things and a hotel with unreliable internet.

The church in the town center on the one day of glorious sunshine.

Anticipating bad weather and a quiet town, I viewed this survey as a bit of a retreat away from busy-ness and activity. And my family came here for a vacation many years ago, so theoretically I’ve already seen all there is to see (although I was too young to remember it, and there is some debate as to whether I was actually included in this family vacation or whether it was before my time). So I felt very little pressure to do much with my free time, and any thoughts I had about regional exploration were quickly drowned out by the almost constant rain/drizzle… and the need for a rental car that made my heart quiver. So I read a lot (I was totally engrossed in and overwhelmed by The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Really highly recommend it). Spider Solitaire, Jon Stewart, and NPR filled in the rest of the gaps.

The survey itself was a little awkward as, apart from the supermarkets, most of the stores are smaller local non-chains where you can’t subtly collect your prices. The stores are like as big as my living room and it’s just you and the shopkeeper—you can’t blend into the aisles or the crowds of shoppers. So when trying to price the International Herald Tribune, I didn’t have the heart to tell the shopkeeper that no, I didn’t actually want to buy it after he had already rung it up… Or when trying to price cigarettes at the convenience store, I just stood in front of the counter and stared at the wall of cigarettes, looking for my targets and trying to memorize a few prices while hemming and hawing when the shopkeeper asked me what I wanted. They probably thought I was a total idiot when I just smiled a “thank you” and walked out… or they were on to me. The smallness of Biscarrosse Ville became very apparent when the attendant at the furniture store asked if I was new to the area as she had seen me (stealthing) at the hair salon. If I were the paranoid type, I would think that all of the different shopkeepers were comparing notes and beginning to piece it all together…

I think that this was the first survey where I actually felt guilty about stealthing. In other countries, I could take advantage of whatever socio-economic-racial power dynamic that almost always put me on top and allowed me to be vague and noncommittal when people asked what I was doing. The power dynamics make it easier for me to control the conversation and ask my questions without properly answering theirs… or avoid their questions altogether if language is a barrier. However, manipulating that power dynamic raises a whole host of other moral questions that I really wrestled with. I won’t go into them now, but it worries me that I felt guiltier in France where there were no language barriers or power plays than I did in Africa where there were. Maybe it’s because I am able to lie by omission in Africa, which feels less malicious than outright lying to people who I feel a connection to, being Francophone Europeans and all.

Luckily I priced the stores on the beach on my one day of sunshine and got a 5 minute glimpse of the ocean.

I had one down day in the area due to the November 11 holiday. I spent it in Bordeaux as I was flying out the next day for Amsterdam from the Bordeaux airport. Now, my experience in Bordeaux was also rather disappointing, but I am more forgiving of this as the place has so much potential. I would definitely come back to Bordeaux, but only in the spring/summer and only with other people and only in a car. There is so much to see and do in the area when it’s not raining and when the museums are actually open.

Place de la Bourse.

One of the longest pedestrian shopping streets in Europe, aptly named Sainte Catherine.

Nov 09 Survey - Bucharest

My survey in Bucharest, Romania was the first time that a survey actually felt like a business trip, where you only see the airport, the hotel, your place of business (malls and supermarkets) and the taxi rides between. In other cities I’ve always had a least a bit of a time buffer or even a down day that allowed me to see something in town or nearby. Not so with Bucharest. I was in town for 2.5 days exactly and working the entire time. My only down hours were late in the evening in the hotel lobby/bar, transcribing my secret prices from my Blackberry into the survey book… it was me and a bunch of businessmen watching football. The total gender and age imbalance that makes me an anomaly at business hotels is relevant here as well.

From what I can tell, Bucharest is a really international and happening city. It reminded me of Brussels, as the areas I was in had a lot of foreigners, allowing me to eavesdrop on different conversations in my language of choice as I ate alone. The city itself emits a great sense of grandeur, combining some of that old historic European charm with the big Communist impressive buildings and/or spaces. There are some absolutely massive squares and roundabouts with some grand government building/monument, and others with a bit of a Times Square feel to them with all of the advertisements, although minus the video screens and twinkling lights… maybe that was a poor comparison.

Anyway, these were my interpretations from various taxis as we sat, stalled in constant traffic on these grand boulevards, in the rain… fleeting thoughts as I prepared my stealth lists on my Blackberry (this job has made me an excellent texter). Since the malls were open until 10 PM at night, I was in no rush and actually quite enjoyed the hour long stop-and-go traffic in the nice warm interior of the car as it gave my feet and my back a well-needed rest. I don’t think my various drivers were too thrilled with the constant traffic though. They all seemed to have their different coping mechanisms:

-one channel-surfed through the radio, a bit of a teaser as he kept skipping all of the good music. At least there was very little of the constant techno that I experienced in May.
-another spent the duration of the ride on his different cell phones to family/lovers explaining that he just had to drop me at the World Trade Center and then he would be home… or at least, that was my interpretation given the tone of his voice (I think the other person on the end of the line was angry or didn’t believe him) and my most likely misplaced assumption that I understand snippets of Romanian, it being a Romance language and all.
-my favorite driver had downloaded some American TV shows on to his GPS, which sparked a conversation about Friends and Seinfeld. I recommended he look at The Office next.

Before leaving, I was able to do a brisk speed-walking tour of the city’s highlights… or at least what I perceived to be the highlights after skimming through the In Your Pocket guide for Bucharest. I took some photos, although I’m not sure what of.

Like this... it's a nice building, but what is this?

My main goal was to see the Parliamentary Building—the second biggest building in the world after the Pentagon.

The Parliamentary Building.

Unfortunately I didn’t have time to take the tour as I wanted to walk around a little more and get at least a minimal sense of the city, having spent the last two days in malls or on the phone in the hotel. I wandered through the Old Town and jay-walked my way around until it was time to check-out of my hotel.

So… Bucharest passed in the blink of an eye. And my survey takes me from a big happening cosmopolitan city to a small town over an hour outside of Bordeaux… in their off-season… presumably in the cold and the rain.

(I love this: I’m sitting in the airport in Bucharest, waiting for my flight to Paris and they keep showing this video over and over on the screen of passengers who are trying to force various local foods into their suitcases. And these items all come alive—a full chicken roaster runs through the check-in area with a fat tourist running after it; a businessman gets killed by a string of contraband sausages-turned-snake; a woman tries to catch a flying cheese that has escaped from her hiking backpack. Customs, you get a 10/10 for entertainment. Message received loud and clear. No flying cheese in my bag.)

Nov 09 Survey - Prishtina

When I saw that Kosovo was on our survey list for this quarter, I thought: this is a perfect example of the one-off opportunities that this job provides. Because, honestly, who wakes up and says, “I want to go to Kosovo”? Maybe one day, but it certainly isn’t an international vacation destination yet. Now, I have to admit that this survey highlighted my ignorance of the Balkans more than anything else. Yes, I remember Milosevic and the NATO bombings on the news in 1999, but that doesn’t mean that I was actually paying attention and really understanding what led to said bombings and everything that followed. Now having some firsthand experience in the area, I am dying to get my hands on some good books and to do some self-educating when I am back home. Any recommendations would be appreciated!

Now, here's what I think I know: after the 1999 NATO bombings, Milosevic agreed to withdraw Serbian troops and to allow a foreign military presence in Kosovo. Enter the transitional UN administration, UNMIK, and the K-FOR, NATO peace-keeping troops. After Kosovo declared its independence from Serbia on February 17, 2008, UNMIK handed over many of its responsibilities to the new Kosovo government and to EULEX, the EU Rule of Law Mission in Kosovo. Kosovo’s independence is only officially recognized by some 70 UN member states and is not a UN member itself as its application would probably be vetoed by Russia. Obviously Serbia does not recognize its secession.

The Newborn monument to mark Kosovo's independence, photographed from behind. Yes, people signed it and now it's covered in writing.

Harri and I entered Kosovo by land, taking the bus through the mountains from Skopje, Macedonia. The border crossing was smooth. We weren’t sure what to expect as Kosovo has yet to set up visa and entry regulations. We were told to just show up at the border with documentation to prove why we were there (hotel reservations for tourism, an invitation letter for business, etc). Apparently our passports sufficed and, after Customs scanned the bags onboard, we were through. After checking into our hotel, we met up with my high school librarian’s husband’s cousin, Shkumbin. He gave us our introduction to the city and put us in touch with a translator, although it turned out that language wasn’t as much of a barrier as I thought it might be as many people speak English quite well. Prishtina seems to be filled with people who left in the 90’s and have recently come back from somewhere else—notably Belgium and Germany—and we would get into different conversations in French and German and English. This seemed to happen a lot with cab drivers.

The view from my hotel room on to Rr Garibaldi.

Shkumbin took us out to an excellent dinner, and we continued to eat really well for the rest of the survey. Eating out is extremely affordable and extremely yummy. There are lots of hip and trendy restaurants/bars/cafes where many of the internationals go (UNMIK, EULEX, KFOR, various NGOs), as well as the wealthier locals. It felt like there were two parallel worlds running in Prishtina, and the restaurant scene was a perfect example: there is one version of Prishtina for those with money and one version for those without. It was the same with stores—there were the small local shops and then the fancy supermarkets with imported goods and often counterfeit designer clothing (Armani jeans for 25 EUR anyone?) Indeed, one of our clients commented that the presence of so many internationals is driving prices up and it will soon hurt locals who do not earn foreign salaries. This disparity made me think of other survey experiences in locations where there is such a wide gap between the have's and the have-not's. Kosovo uses the EURO (although this seems to be the place where EURO bills come to die as some of them are in such poor shape that they probably wouldn’t be accepted anywhere else in the EURO zone), but it didn’t always feel like Europe.

Harri and I were the first surveyors from our company to survey Prishtina , so it was a tough week trying to find new sources and outlets. Although centrally located, our hotel didn’t make the task any easier. We stayed at the Grand Hotel Prishtina, a landmark in the city that is Grand in name only—I felt myself die inside a little bit each time I walked into the lobby. It’s a relic of the good ol’ Soviet times that smells of smoke and is honestly a little creepy. It seems that everyone else felt the same way as our other preferred hotels were already booked up. Apart from one really great guy at the reception, “customer service” did not seem to be a part of the staff’s vocabulary (I mean, would you do your laundry at a hotel where they give you a black trash bag and no list and tell you to just “leave it on the bed and the maid will pick it up”… yeah, but will I get any of it back?!?!)

We chose to do a day trip on our one down day to Prizren… unfortunately we were not in the know and so left Prishtina on the one day that former President Bill Clinton was coming into town for a ceremony to unveil the Bill Clinton statue on Boulevard Klinton. We saw the statue before his visit in our surveying the city, but it was partially covered (we thought as a Halloween prank, but apparently covered in anticipation of its unveiling). Clinton is well-loved by the Kosovo Albanians for his role in the NATO bombings of 1999.

If you zoom in, it actually does look like him.

Prizren is the cultural and historical capital of Kosovo. It was beautiful to walk around the old center and up to the fortress that overlooks the town.

My favorite view in Prizren: the 15th Century Ottoman Bridge, the Sinan Pasha Mosque, and the Kaljaja Fortress above.

In 2004 there were riots that led to vandalism of some Serb-Orthodox churches and homes in Prizren and other towns. As a result, the remaining Serbs left Prizren and the churches are now blocked off with barbed wire and guarded by KFOR soldiers. We had to ask permission to enter one of the church grounds from the guards outside; I guess we looked mild enough because they allowed us in but watched us the whole time. We really wanted to see the Saint Savior Church, but it was totally closed up with a sign warning that the guards had permission to shoot… so… understandably no visit there.

Case in point: Saint Savior Church.

We hiked up to the fortress, skirting the edge of the old Serbian Quarter where we passed the Saint Savior Church. The area is now a collection of abandoned buildings and stray cats. It was a steep hike but worth the views from the top. We were up there when the city's multiple mosques did their calls to prayer... true surround sound.

From the fortress looking down... yes it was cold up there!

The Saint Savior Church seen from above... notice the military vehicles along the wall?

Now, one thing that struck me in Prishtina was the international military presence. I would discretely stare at the soldiers’ arms and the vehicles’ license plates to determine what flag they were carrying (Germany, Austria, Italy, France, Monaco, and USA, to name a few). They blended in somewhat in Prishtina as they were completely outnumbered by the civilian population, but in Prizren there were so many of them. There is a KFOR base right at the edge of town and we kept leap-frogging with groups of German soldiers throughout the day. Seeing the soldiers and "No Guns Allowed" signs on restaurant and shop doors was a good reminder as to where we were.

Trying to generate a good rapport with the local community... we also saw a KFOR ad on a bus that showed a US soldier kneeling to give a little girl a flower... I'm sorry, but am I the only one who finds this a little unintentionally creepy?

No dogs. No Bikes. No guns.