Since I can’t clear my head to actually write about what’s happening in Kosovo, I was very surprised to discover on the streets of Prizren the exhibition ‘Barricade: The EuroMaidan Revolt’. 

A conflict that lead to a war is presented in pictures in a country where the same thing happened 15 years ago. I wasn’t at the opening of the exhibition and probably I missed some great speech from both sides, but luckily me, the acclaimed photojournalist Donald Weber is holding a storytelling workshop here in Dokufest so I will probably hear some of the great war zone stories. 

The exhibition ‘Barricade: The EuroMaidan Revolt’ collects Donald Weber’s composite portraits of the people he met on the street, a collection of molotov cocktails that have been the weapon of choice for the EuroMaidan protestors in Kiev and President Viktor Yanukovich’s personal multi million belongings found in his luxury residence in Mezhigiriya. Amazing.

Just a few molotov cocktails:

Prizren Kosovo 2014 Donald Weber

Prizren Kosovo 2014 Donald Weber

Prizren Kosovo 2014 Donald Weber

Last week I found out that I’ve been accepted to a film critics workshop what was taking place during Dokufestival, Prizren city, Kosovo. Yes Kosovo. And to go to Kosovo, the organizers put me in a Turkish Airlines plane with a layover of seven hours in Istanbul, Turkey.

Alles gut, I said to me, and I ignored the layover part until yesterday, when I started to google to see if a city-trip from the airport to the heart of the city is possible. It turned out that the marvellous Turkish Airlines has a special offer for tourists who have layovers in Istanbul: they offer free city tour – from the airport, with free meal included. The advertising sounded perfectly, especially when I read that if your flight departures earlier, the drivers can bring you back to airport in time to catch the flight.

Alles perfect, but there was a LITTLE problem. The checkin for the tours is closing at 11.30 and the tour starts at 12.00, and my arrival to Istanbul was 11.30 – thus meaning I had to run from the airplane to the Hotel Desk Information Point. Well – I decided to write them an email just to be sure I can do this tour, but I wrote them yesterday, meaning a weekend day, and their services were available only during weekday. So then I used social media to ask them about the tour. They even replied to me in within an hour, as you can see here.

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And they redirected me to their call-center, where I waited for 10 minutes to talk with someone, a girl who assured me that there is no problem to attend the tour.

Thus being said, I was happy and eager to discover the great city of Istanbul, especially when I saw how beautiful was from above.

11.31: running to passport control.
11.41: still waiting to pass passport control
11.51: Hotel Desk Information Point … Where I found out that … I can’t attend the tour while the procedure has closed at 11.30. Needless to say that I calmly expained them that the call-center girl assured me I can attend the tour. But the Turkish boy said no, no, no.

I was soooo pissed off by this situation that I decided to return and wait all the seven hours inside the airport. But … It turns out that the biggest airport in Turkey has a problem with air conditioner so … Everyone was melting, me included. Not to mention the amount of trash that I saw everywhere. So I asked some cleaning man what’s happening with the AC, and he called his supperior because he didn’t speak English. So when the manager came, I asked him the same question, and his answer was … “Where are you from?”

The conversation went crazy, he was talking to me in Turkish and finally saying “fucking Romanians”. I replied “racist stupid Turkish” and then I left to melt down on a bench/ chair/ something.

12.30: I needed some internet conection to have activity during my seven hours waiting, so I found a boutique which sold wi-fi access for 10 Eur/ 24 hours. Everything could be perfect BUT … My ING Visa credit card was declined two times at the boutique, than again at Cafe Nero. Thank God I have absolutely super friends who can help me with the problem.

14.40: while writing this, the AC started to function. Feeling back in 2014.

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Two questions are crossing my mind:

1. I can feel my luggage will be lost in this wonderful airport. How should I act ?
2. Next week I am returning to this airport for another seven hours. Same flight hours, no tour. What to do, what to do?

Am trecut din starea de soc cu ajutorul unei pastile mici si albastre aducatoare de liniste in ganduri in starea de furie. Am spart, am plans, am reanalizat viata, per ansamblu, pe mine, in amanunt.

Starea de furie e groaznica. Si devine si mai groaznica o data ce constientizezi ca esti furios. Pentru prima data, simt nevoia sa urlu caci ceva in cosul pieptului meu se zbate puternic. Pentru a nu stiu cata oara, plang fara lacrimi.

Si simt nevoia sa plang si sa urlu tocmai pentru ca a plecat, iar furie simt pentru amandoua: pentru mine, caci nu de putine ori am fost in coltul meu cel negru, pentru ea, caci a plecat asa cum a plecat.

Si mai simt furie pentru toti oamenii care au cumparat astazi mizeria de ziar Libertatea. Si pentru toti cei care au dat click pe stirile alea care sunt scrise toate la fel despre ea. Ca au vazut-o acolo si au judecat-o. Suntem extrem de competenti la capitolul dat cu parerea, caci asta am invatat de la democratie. Pacat, insa, ca nu ne dam cu parerea acolo unde cu adevarat trebuie.

Si sper sa ma tina cat mai mult starea asta de furie, caci bag de seama ca stiu nimic despre viata, propia-mi viata, dar incep sa (re)descopar.

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