Kassandra — Photo by Taulant Hoxha, Bear Sanctuary Prishtina

“This is Ero, he’s our biggest bear here, weighing over 350 kilos,” says Taulant. I watch as a massive brown creature on the other side of the fence paces back and forth with stolid determination a consistent line of about 6 meters.

“Why is he pacing like that?” I ask. Taulant explains that some of these bears had lived in cages for so long, that they got used to the limited space in which to roam, and developed a stereotypical behavior. They had been walking in circles or pacing back and forth in a small line to the point where the habit became hard to break, even in such a spacious sanctuary. He then adds, “Also, they know it’s mealtime as they can hear the tractor that brings their food.” Watching Ero move back and forth, I think of how easy it is for past habits and traumas to constrain us in the present, despite the increased amount of space and freedom we supposedly have at our disposal.

Taulant at Bear Sanctuary Prishtina — Photo by author

Taulant is showing me around the serene wooded hill complex that is Bear Sanctuary Prishtina, where he is the Tourism Development Manager. We had first met two years ago while scouting out High Scardus Trail, an emerging sustainable adventure-trekking destination that crosses three countries in the Western Balkans, starting in Kosovo.

When I ask him about the impact of his work here, he shares that some people misunderstand the significance of their work with the bears, against the backdrop of the complex myriad of challenges Kosovo faces as a newborn, developing nation. Taulant explains, “They ask, ‘What have you [Bear Sanctuary] accomplished here in ten years?’ and while the fact that no more bears in this country live in cages isn’t exactly a wow moment, for me, it is quite significant to have Kosovo recognized as doing something good in this space, in a multilayered system of problems, to also have some positive changes.” It also happens that the Sanctuary is one of Kosovo’s main draws for international visitors, as it is often visited by animal and conservation activists.

Anik and Mali — Photo by Taulant Hoxha, Bear Sanctuary Prishtina

Taulant believes that it’s important to make a difference where you can, and even better if it opens an opportunity for Kosovo to be recognized for something good, a challenge to the preexisting narrative of conflict. [Over my years of travels here, when I talk to friends and family back home, they always ask how safe I feel in Kosovo. My answer is always that I feel much safer here than I do even in the US.] As we walk through the wooded hills of the Bear Sanctuary and discuss the implications of recent clashes near the northern border with Serbia, we often come back to the importance of making small progress every day. The only way to make progress on complex issues is to stop arguing about them and start making actual progress.

Taulant guiding a mountain expedition in his native Sharr Mountains — Photo by author

He tells me about the legal challenges and implications of moving wild and endangered animals across borders since Kosovo is not recognized as a UN member state. Sadly, this situation all too aptly applies to Kosovars themselves, as the geopolitical reality is that it is incredibly difficult for those holding a Kosovar passport to travel with ease outside of the immediate vicinity.

For him, an early trip to Portugal in 2012 helped to break down the mentality that Europe is a “promised land”. Being so far away from his culture, he felt isolated. While he still travels in Europe, he spends a lot of that time finding lessons or approaches he can bring back to his work in sustainable tourism. He asserts to me, “Everything I need I have here.” He agrees that the proposed visa liberalization [a chance for Kosovars to finally be able to travel more broadly in Europe without red tape] in January will do only good for the country. Like many Kosovars I’ve talked to, he echoed the sentiment that “People will go, but they will also come back.”

Ari — Photo by Taulant Hoxha, Bear Sanctuary Prishtina

Now on the topic of travel, I ask him about how his work at Bear Sanctuary complements his work as an entrepreneur and tour operator (which is the context in which I had first met him). He tells me that through all of the training and lessons learned, the combination of these paths has given him the expertise to be a leading voice in the industry. Like neighboring Albania, tourism in Kosovo has a lot of challenges when it comes to sustainability.

He elaborates: “The misunderstanding about sustainability, as having to only mean about the environment. Lots of stakeholders claim they ‘don’t have the luxury’ to have a sustainability focus, but that means that once a region or a destination is ruined after over-tourism, then there is no way to earn a living there in tourism. It’s very short-sighted. It’s a generational thing, we weren’t raised in a mentality led by vision or long-term goals.”

Taulant (R) and his friend and business partner, Arian (L) in the mountains of Albania - Photo by author

We talked about the growth of his business over the past ten years. For him, by far the biggest accolade is a mention in an article in National Geographic. Reflecting on it with pride, he reflects, “How did these boys, venturing out into the mountains in Converse shoes and school book bags — that’s all we had,” find themselves mentioned in National Geographic? The satisfaction of achieving that, to him, was priceless. Curiously, this accolade was meaningful for both of us, as the article featured photos I had taken when I had first met Taulant, near the start of his involvement in High Scardus Trail, when I was first attempting to break into travel photography.

His colleagues are often impressed with his ability to come back on Mondays energized for work, despite having led explorers into his native Sharr mountains over the weekend. And it’s due to the balance between his two roles: a dynamic environment at the Sanctuary means for him that every day is different, and he enjoys the ability to go out onto the grounds several times a week to photograph and spend time with the animals. On our walk, he recounted many things he has learned over the past five years about their personalities and behavioral patterns. It brought to mind the shepherd I met at the end of High Scardus Trail, Naum, who even at the age of 61 felt as if he learned from his animals every day.

Where I find inspiration from Taulant is in his underlying motivations. The goals in his businesses have never been material — but more spiritual and personal. We talked about the desire to have a reason for being, something that motivates you beyond mere sustenance: “The moment you realize the reason why you exist, it opens up an incredible path in front of you.”

Taulant’s words stay with me as I walk the shoulder of a lonely road through village fields on my way back to Prishtina. If it weren’t for Taulant and the bears, I wouldn’t have traveled out to this secluded place; now passing flocks of sheep at dusk, and coming to a derelict petrol station from where I’ll flag down the next bus back to the capital. On my walk, I think about Taulant’s path, feeling oddly reassured that my own will continue to lead me back to Kosovo.