Iowa Delegation to Kosovo | July 2022

Summer nights on Raki Street, Prishtina | Shot on a Pentax k1000

I had been traveling all night, crossing the Balkans via a packed overnight bus from Slovenia through Croatia, Serbia, and North Macedonia, and had passed out at 4 am on a bench in Skopje’s crusty bus station, to catch some z’s alongside some other scruffy-looking vagabonds before boarding my connecting bus to Prishtina. And soon after, at my eighth border checkpoint in 16 hours, an old man on the Kosovo border inquired about my birthplace while inspecting my passport. “Indiana?” he asked. “Yes, but I live in I-Ova.” He looked at me with approval and replied, “Iova army here in Kosovo. You know this?” Then I said, “Yes sir.” He responded with the only genuine smile I’ve ever received from a border guard, stamped my passport with enthusiasm, and said “Welcome sir.” Needless to say, it was good to be back in Kosovo.

Hard not to feel at home when walking “Boulevard Bill Klinton”

I need to rewind a full year - back to July 2021 - when I first met Karla McCollum, then the executive director of Iowa Sister States to talk about photographing a delegation of Iowans visiting Kosovo the following September. Beyond the excitement of having landed my first commissioned photography project abroad, there was something else that told me this was fate, and it was the way that Karla passionately talked about Kosovo, and the unique relationship it has with Iowa. As she detailed the background story and the cast of characters that have spun into this web of relationships, I knew this would be an opportunity like no other. However, the anticipation and anxiety that I felt on my flight to Albania a couple of weeks later would prove to be needless, as the delegation was soon postponed due to rising COVID cases in the Balkans. I still made it to Kosovo, however, walking across the border from Albania on foot. I had lucked into another job, photographing a transnational hiking route on the mountainous borders of Albania, Kosovo, and North Macedonia, and beheld beautiful and untouched landscapes that are among Europe’s best-kept secrets. I was next smitten by Prishtina, the capital, during a rainy autumn: the bazaars, mosques, and the calls to prayer evoked another world and time - but the nightclubs, stately squares, lush parks, and the macchiato-slamming, chain-smoking-cafe-culture gave it the feel of the best of cosmopolitan European capitals. When this Iowa Delegation finally was rescheduled to July 2022, I knew I would make my best effort to be a part of it.

Hinterlands of eastern Kosovo, along the High Scardus Trail | Shot on assignment in September 2021

I was beyond excited to be back. Prishtina was buzzing with palpable energy in the middle of the summer. And to make things better, I was going to be for the first time in my travels surrounded by a cross-section of Iowans from the most diverse variety of backgrounds imaginable. It was almost like taking part in a traveling murder mystery, so varied was our entourage. We had a general, a mayor, a police chief, several CEO's, a couple of pastors, academics, a musician, a teenager, and I half expected to cross a Colonel Mustard and Professor Plum in the Hall with a candlestick at some point. My poor joke aside, I am grateful to have been included in such a group of talented and generous Iowans. The last time I had talked to Todd Partridge, world-traveling musician, and CEO of MoveIt Companies, was six years ago when our respective bands played a show at a venue and bar in Ames, Iowa. And suddenly I was greeting him again in the heart of Prishtina, before dinner with the Des Moines consulate Mission Chief Artan Duraku, and then out to an underground theatre with free food and booze with Todd and his friend Zana, a renowned playwright and activist in Prishtina. Traveling within such a dense web of personal connections brought us all closer to the beating pulse of Prishtina, granting a level of cultural depth that can take weeks if not months to cultivate when traveling alone in a place where you have no personal connections.

Once again, Pentax k1000 | all film shots were developed by local photographer Flamur Qorroli

And the absurd connections didn’t stop at the civilian level. Being with the delegation, we had access to levels of government I felt vastly underqualified (as well as underdressed) to be meeting. We had meetings with city mayors and officials from Parliament, all the way up to the President and the Prime Minister of Kosovo. We also met entrepreneurs, journalists, retired generals, and school teachers. I felt like General Xhavit Gashi had to have been my long-lost uncle based on how warmly he introduced himself to me, soon showing me photos of himself as a long-haired singer and artist before he joined the KLA (Kosovo Liberation Army) during the crisis of the ’90s. In every meeting, our hosts extended the warmest hospitality and authenticity. We were welcomed to homes, and factories, and given tours of municipalities and municipality-sized wineries. There was an emotional intensity present due in large part to their gratitude for US intervention in the atrocities of the Serbian regime in the 1990’s and 2000’s.

General Orr greeting Prime Minister Albin Kurti

Aside from the presence of the Iowa military, as my friend in the border guard alluded to, there also exists a civilian relationship between the states of Iowa and Kosovo, initiated at the behest of Major General Timothy Orr (now retired), who led the delegation. I was shocked with the modest, approachable way in which he carried himself - had I bumped into him unknowingly in Des Moines (which I happened to actually do in August), it would not have crossed my mind that I was speaking to a revered general who had led the Iowa National Guard. There were other retired service members in our company, and they were an absolute pleasure to be around as well, and some were absolute characters. Bruce Roe would regularly keep an eye out for me as I was lost inside my viewfinder, or thoughtfully snag photos of me since I naturally would not be in any of the photos I was capturing. And Rachel Fails was the biggest help in coordinating the group shots. Photographing a group of over 50 people was never an issue with Rachel taking the initiative to call out orders to position the delegation so I could capture the group photos.

The actual business of the delegation, aside from the celebration and strengthening of the Iowa-Kosovo relationship was to generate more concrete cooperation: university deans and counselors working out student exchange opportunities, public servants looking to build or strengthen sister city relationships, but one of the most tangible impacts came from Iowans in the athletics domain. The Iowa and US AAU organizations partnered to send and fill a shipping container with donated sporting equipment, jerseys, and incredibly, over 800 brand-new Baden volleyballs (volleyball being one of the most popular sports in the country). I will never forget that moment in a gymnasium in Gjakova as Teresa Parmenter, a smile beaming from ear to ear, sent one volleyball after another into this crowd of over a hundred students at after-school practice, and the roar and pandemonium that went up as the students received these gifts, then inviting the Iowans to join them in pickup games across the entire gymnasium.

Teresa Parmenter sending volleyballs gifted by the AAU to students in Gjakova.

Traveling with this group, in this capacity offered more depth of experience than anything I could have planned on my own. It allowed me to see what citizen diplomacy when done right, can do for everyday people. And it stressed that interactions like this are far more impactful than anything that can be said or done by even the most altruistic of administrations. It raised the question of what would happen if we set aside greed, aggression, politics, and just worked to understand each other on a human level. To family and friends in Iowa reading this who are interested, you should consider volunteering with Iowa Sister States or getting involved in nonprofits in Des Moines like EMBARC, which works with refugees. We have visitors and refugees coming to our state all the time, and they are without a doubt in need of support. And you will never be able to anticipate the kinds of relationships that can be forged in this space. As I write this, I am looking forward immensely to the next time I can return to Kosovo, and reconnect with my friends there. And I am also thankful for my new friends in Iowa. I regret that in my aim to keep this writing brief, I am not able to mention everyone I interacted with in the delegation, because I feel somewhat in debt to everyone who participated for sharing their time and attention with me. After that week together, our group bonded to the point where the delegation felt more like a family. We closed out our time together with a sendoff party at a home on none other than ‘Iova Street’. I eventually had to leave Kosovo again for work obligations, but after this visit, I knew that this sister state will likely soon become a home state.

-Delhi, November 18, 2022

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(Big thanks to Neil Vezeau for reminding me about the Iowa Kosovo connection when I was planning an Albania trip in July 2021).