Everyday is a New Lesson.

After spending four days in a major city in Kosovo, I boarded a bus and began my trip to meet my first host family in the small town in my region. During the trip there and the first few hours, I was fine. I was excited, but I wasn’t scared about the time to come. Our staff assured us that our families applied to have us and they wanted us. I feel like I took that idea to heart and understood that wherever I was going to be placed, I was going to be at home, and I would learn a lot from my host family.

The first few days with my host family were great. I felt immediately included into their family and they showered me with food. If you know anything about me, the greatest gift you can give me is food. I felt at home and everything was good. This was only the beginning. The next few days proved to be a lot of new life lessons.

Lesson #1: Names are important.

Early on in my time here in Kosovo I realized that the 'W' sound was going to be difficult for native Albanian speakers. Often times the W sounds are turned into V sounds because the "ua" sound we have in English does not exist in Albanian. Andrew was going to be a difficult name to pronounce. I then remembered the name Astrit.

Me and my host Dad Eshtref

My dad's side of the family is Albanian. Although I grew up in Mexico and Mexican culture is in my blood, part of me always enjoyed the Albanian culture that I got to know through my dad's family. One thing I always enjoyed is that everyone had Albanian names even though no-one actually called them by those names. For example, my dad's Albanian name is Pelumb, although legally his name is Paul. Everyone in my family has Albanian names except for my siblings and me. When I was about 11 while visiting my grandma, I asked her to give me an Albanian name, and she called me Astrit. The problem is that my dad's cousin is Astrit, so no-one would ever in their right mind refer to me as Astrit. However I decided that if my host family was willing, I would go by the name Astrit.

They loved it, and once I explained that my grandma was from Albania they understood entirely that that very well could be my name. However it made for some interesting conversation with my host family's friends. Every time I met someone new, they would introduce me as Astrit Qasim (the real spelling of my last name, I found out) and the response was always the same: "Wait. You're going to tell me that an American's name is Astrit Qasim?!"(Roughly translated from Albanian). In my short amount of time here, I have found that your name is really important. It defines who you are. Regularly throughout the day, my host brothers will look at me, smile, and say "Oh Astrit!" just to confirm that they know my name, and that I am seen and heard. I have a feeling that Andrew Kazim would have been okay, but Astrit Qasim is a lot better.

All the men in my host family

Lesson #2: You have to go out there and try. 

Me and my host bro Aid

After a few days of getting to know my host family, I felt overwhelmed with meeting so many people. On the day that I finally had some time to myself, I had planned on using that time to rest, watch some television, read, do all the things that I enjoy doing in my free time. Instead I laid on my bed and broke down completely. For the first time since I had gotten to Kosovo, I felt homesick. Not the general missing of home but for the first time the ~6500 miles that separated me and home were sinking in. In short, I missed my mommy.

Not only that, but I was unable to actually speak the language of my host family, and it finally hit me that I was alone here. You don't realize how important communication is until you lose it.

I immediately called my parents (the experts on culture shock) and both of them advised the same thing: You have to go out there and try. Staying locked in my room does not benefit anyone. My host family wants me to be here and they enjoy my presence, so I should show them that I appreciate them as well. I may not be able to speak their language yet, but we can slowly communicate with each other, and sooner or later we’ll get into a rhythm.

Sure I need my time alone, but I need to be able to interact with people as well. I also need to appreciate the small victories.  After a week of interacting with my host family, I picked up my eldest host brother's son Onar. As I was playing with him, his mom came in the room, looked at us, and with a smile said "Onar dhe Xhaxhi Astrit," Onar and Uncle Andrew. I was in.

Lesson #3: Slow Down. 

A few days ago I went on a walk with my host dad. He took me up into the woods behind my house and we got to see the countryside here in my town. On our way back, he wanted to show me his farm, so we took the long way back from the woods to the house. As we were approaching the house, I was tired and ready to lay down so I began to walk faster. My host dad looked at me and said, "are you tired?" I responded appropriately with a firm and confident "no no, thank you." He looked at me, and with a educative expression, he said, " avash-avash," slow down.

I feel that as an American, I enjoy getting things done quickly. We walk fast, we eat fast, we do our work fast, because time is money. I quickly (pun intended) found out that, in Kosovo, that's not how things get done. If we say we are going to do something, we may do it later. If the opportunity does not present itself, we may not do it at all, and that's okay.

Life is short, and often times we are so caught up in our daily routine that we don't take time to slow down and analyze our situations. Many of the trials I have had here in Kosovo could be easily solved if I slowed down and read my situation. My nature is to get things done now, but I am learning to believe that I will be more successful in life if I try to do things "avash-avash."

Everyday is a new lesson

I have to think of every day as a new trial, as a new thing to be learned. Whether it’s learning what facial expressions to give the taxi drivers when they are trying to charge me more money, or learning about what things are and are not appropriate for me, each day is a new lesson. It is up to me to capitalize on those lessons.