Erin and I were awoken to a colleague announcing, “get up before all of the refugees are gone." Later we learned that he was not joking.

After coffee at Bar Americana, we went to the CARE office, which is located in the former disco of a hotel. Bamboo walls, pink stucco and many mirrors are cluttered with maps of Kosovo and Albania, drawings and logistical information. The bar is now a workspace complete with satellite phone, computers and a regular telephone. Upstairs in the hotel, the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) has commandeered a number of floors for command central.

My first order of business was with Clarisse who is conducting CARE’s landmine program. She was frustrated by the ambivalence of the Kosovars — they are too eager to return to take time to learn about hidden dangers. News from the Albanian border and Kosovo is grim with a growing number of fatalities and injuries due to landmines and unexploded ordinances (UXOs). Despite the unwillingness to learn about safety precautions, Clarisse has persevered by placing large banners and informational literature at strategic locations. When we met, she shared the good news — the Albanian government wishes for her to conduct landmine education programs for the Albanian police forces.

After meeting with Clarisse, I took time to talk with Fitim — he is a CARE employee and a Kosovar national. Prior to working with CARE, Fitim was teaching computer software applications to the fashion industry in Milan Italy. In April, his mother and sister fled Kosovo for Macedonia while his father went into hiding in Kosovo. Fitim took a voluntary leave from his position to help in Albania, and CARE was the fortunate recipient of his knowledge and talents. For two months, Fitim worked in the Kukes II refugee camp and helped to establish the Way Station in Mjeda. When I caught up with him, he was just returning from a short visit to Italy where he extended his leave of absence to continue with CARE.

I learned a lot about Fitim’s family and Kosovo during our short conversation. Fitim spoke passionately about his country — he shares the pride of fellow countrymen. The rapid return to Kosovo, despite dangers, does not surprise him, as they are eager to rebuild their homes and country. Fitim has a number of Serbian friends and did not feel that the war would sever relations as "it is the government not the people who are evil." Education is highly valued in Kosovo, especially in cities like Pristina where Fitim lives. Fitim and his brother are engineers, one sister is a pharmacist, another is a doctor and his father is a sound engineer. I was impressed to learn that Fitim spoke English, French, Turkish, German, Italian, Albanian, and Serbo-Croatian languages. He explained that in Kosovo it is common to use Serbo-Croatian as the primary language.

While the family escaped personal harm in the hands of the Serbs, they lost material possessions. One of their flats was destroyed, the second flat was looted, and their savings accounts were emptied. I asked if he was depressed and he said what was lost can be replaced and they will rebuild, as it is the way of Kosovars. I was repeatedly amazed at his resilience and optimism.