Christmas is part of the landscape here, but in a kooky way. It’s sort of an afterthought, perhaps an attempt to reach out to the Americans that are so well regarded here. Street vendors sell lights and other Christmas ticky-tackies, but these vendors blend in with the cell-phone, mitten, and chestnuts vendors, so it’s easy to pass them by. I recently noticed a structure going up on a newly converted pedestrian street and slowly realized that it was a Santa house. It looks like a ginger bread house and has heart shaped cut-outs on the doors. It opened a few days ago (Imagine that! In the US it would have opened the day after Thanksgiving). I walked by there last night and noticed a Santa sitting inside the house by himself. With the help of a television and some thumping music, Santa’s elf and penguin helpers were outside trying to rustle up some business. Not a good night to do this, as all of the kids were at the 50 Cent concert.

Speaking of Christmas, this won’t be a holiday-with-gifts season for Richard and me. It’s difficult and expensive to send/receive packages here. If you are inclined to do something for Richard and I, maybe you could give to a local non-profit that supports something we care about. First, some background. Richard and I have adopted three stray dogs here: Stochka, Yippy, and Chewy (I’ll leave you to guess the etymology of their names). We both give them love and Richard gives them food. I could write a dissertation on the difficulties of being a stray dog here. There are so many of them, and this is not a culture that cares about them. Add to this the very real fear that people have when the dogs get desperate and hungry and start to threaten people. There are regular shooting patrols organized by KFOR and the local police. As you can imagine, nights can be fraught with anxiety about these dogs. When I hear them barking at night I feel secure that they are still alive and worried that they are getting hurt or shot. I doubt that these sweet dogs will survive the winter, but I want them to feel some affection and love as long as they’re here. The one light in this story is a dog-shelter that opened up in 2004. It’s the only shelter in Kosovo. When I called to see if we could bring Stochka there, the over-worked but kind coordinator told me that the shelter was overflowing. They are, like all fledgling non-profits, desperate for money, so if you would like to give, here is their website:

http://www.kosovodogshelter.org/