Destination on course
I wasn't kidding when I said I saw half the town (aka capital, but "town" is good) in half a day, and that there's no need to intentionally go seek out whatever sights it has to offer, cos it's impossible not to encounter them simply by virtue of daily living.
Kosovo is the second youngest country in the world, birthed in 2008 - two years younger than Alexander - older only than South Sudan, born in 2011.
What an experience it is, being in a place most people don't even know exists. With good reason; the capital city airport might just be the smallest I've ever been to. When you land, the airport appears to be engulfed by farmland, and the city operates as if forgotten by the sands of time - while simultaneously being more modern-functioning than most of the countries we've lived in this year.
It's a strange world, but not in the sense that it leaves you baffled and befuddled. Instead, there's something in the air that makes you adapt to what is rather than what fight against what isn't (definitely what I did in Georgia, and to an extent also in Viet Nam over COVID).
Even more strange is being somewhere that is without a "known" identity, except for one inherited from others that is busy being separated from. Kosovo is a country - at least to the 117 countries that recognise it as such - that's fighting an uphill battle for its own independence and sovereignty. Global political affiliations are complicated, with a number of countries - sadly including South Africa - retaining a status of unrecognition. As visitors, we're unable to enter Serbia via Kosovo, as that would be grounds for illegal entry into Serbia. Kosovo as a country, simply put, doesn't exist.
P.S. For those of you who have expressed concern (thanks for your thoughts! ❤️) that we seem to find ourselves in a second conflict-ridden country during this turbulent year, the situation seems under control for the moment.
Like there were fears over Georgia becoming a spillover of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, there is a possibility that the current conflict involving protestors could escalate, but a threat beyond a certain order of magnitude seems a nonissue at present.
Border tensions between Kosovo and Serbia over new temporary travel documents and Kosovo-issued license plates for Serbian ID holders that were due to be implemented starting today, Aug 1, have been postponed for one month, and the EU has invited both countries to a sit-down in Brussels.
This must be the place
Kosovo has the youngest youth population in Europe, with nearly 50% of Kosovars 25 years and under and 19% between 15-24 years old. The outlook doesn't seem rosy: One in two people surveyed wish to leave Europe's poorest country for better opportunities elsewhere. Between 2008 and 2018, one-fifth of the country's population tried to escape through illegal migration, but this seems to have tapered down since. The knock-on effect of the youth migration trend, of course, is that the society that remains end-out will be an aging one.
Of course, there's also hope. There always is. A 100-day art festival, entitled Manifesta 14, is currently exhibiting all over the capital Prishtina, bringing awareness to the country and extending a hand to its citizens with over 100 artists showcasing their work, more than half of them Kosovars or from the Balkans.
"For Kosovo, whose citizens are only able to travel to four countries without a visa, Manifesta is no small matter, bringing collectors, artists, journalists, and art lovers from around the world and offering the tantalising promise that their homeland can become an integrated part of the European and global community."
"A blank page" is what a friend calls our presence in Kosovo, with its absence of distractions. And equally true on a metaphorical or archetypal level: An opportunity to take what you have - even if only rags - and create something new. It's what we (ought to) do with the cards we're dealt, and similarly, the reason I work in the Web3 industry, where there's a continual collective commitment to disbanding from legacy systems to create something new...even if there's no good cut after the first attempts. We know not (yet) who we are, but we'll create our way there.
Storm corrosion
This situation brings to mind similar processes in those phases we find ourselves in, whether in relationships or in business, when you don't quite feel just yet as if evolving a newly forged - sometimes still being mined - identity is full formed enough to stand on its own, to take up space in own right. There's internal turmoil, conflict with old identities that in some ways can be hard to let go of.
It's during times like these that stepping back from the chaos is a game-changer.
As a family, we're in our fourth country of the year. January-February in Viet Nam, February-May in Georgia in the Caucasus, May-July in Turkey, and now Kosovo in the Balkans. With a few more places lined up before year's end. But here now, in this place of little more than genuinely nice people, we're catching our breath, finding rest and reprieve of the sort that will rejuvenate and refuel us as we change course internally to weather eternally what our lives are cooking up in our skies. Setting sail on a new journey.
Professionally, the same trend applies. As a company that raised funds just before the market downturn, we've found ourselves in a peculiar situation. We're not in the precocious position of a company that's newly operational and we're well-capitalised, so we've been able to retain our staff - and hire additional team members - at a time when even industry-leading companies are retrenching large percentages of their workforce.
Yet, had we gone full-steam ahead like we were in the process of - like all companies did, at least in the Web3 space - before the Crypto Winter, we would've been poorer off for it. I've always maintained - as do many others - that bear markets are a time to regroup, much like winter is a season of reflection and regeneration. A time when, after the planting's said and done, we continue to take care of the seeds even though the sky's dark out and it's difficult to see or feel that what we're doing is having any effect. And for a company, there’s no better opportunity than a down market when nothing much is happening anyway to strengthen itself from the inside out.
All hot steam and no grounded substance makes Jack, Jill, and the well from which they draw, very temporal indeed.
Bullet with butterfly wings
A related topic is the stark reality of the current state of the global financial markets, typified as it is by greed and fear, much like our own lives. We want what we want when we want it, and we're deathly terrified of losing it, so much so that sometimes we're willing to put up with counterintuitive people, places, and things for a misguided sense of safety and security.
Global economics is no different. After all, it's less a question of hard numbers as it is a collection of formulas that overlays - and reflects - human nature. Choices were made upstream that is, in the here and now, catching up with us downstream. And as history has shown us, governments and organisations - much like individuals - have a propensity to make the same mistakes repeatedly, simply changing the colour of the wallpaper and the texture of the napkins.
The 2007-2008 financial crisis saw buyouts that are repeating themselves now in the form of vast numbers of inflation introduced in order to fight inflation: We just can't stop printing more money so we can throw money at the money we're losing. It's an insane, inept nightmare. And most all of us - save for the global 1% pulling many of these puppet strings - we're all trapped in it.
The reality, however, is that there are multiple realities.
There's the reality where the world isn't a safe place, where the best we can strive for is to construct for ourselves an effective false sense of security, so carefully crafted that even we won't know it's a knock-off version of the real thing. What's this "real" thing then, you might ask? We don't know, we don't care; all we know is it's best left alone in a box up in the attic where the light's broken and the stairs creak.
Another reality is one in which, a la metaverse, you acknowledge that in this game of life, there are multiple gameplays and many different strategies that - at various intervals - can take you to the next level. And so you log on, suit up, and make this sandbox environment your own.
In the shade of the sun
This refers as much to my general life philosophy as it does to the crypto markets, where 2022 proved (once again, but also - as we're always at the beginning of anything - for the first time) that business as usual quickly starts rotting from the inside.
During the fat years, when the harvest is good and the feasts plenty, forward motion is almost a given. As long as you're in the river, you'll get somewhere. And depending on the opportunities available to you, it'll be on a riverboat cruise serving cocktails and live music.
When the lean years hit, the river either dries up and you kick up dust as you make your way there on foot or, if the circumstances are a tad more dramatic, you can be surfing (slash drowning under, who's counting) rapids on the way. The alternative, of course, is to stop and set up camp, either for a time until the cycle picks up again, or to simply declare that the land you find yourself on now is yours and so it will stay.
The risk here is that the temporary comfort of staying out of famine's way by staying put could, ultimately, be what makes the horse's legs lame. So to maintain a sense of motion - it needn't be forward, but it does require remaining in some sort of flow - means sometimes to venture internally when the environment around us slows down to a painfully drawn-out halt, in order to strengthen from within what will be utilised without. This is equally true whether it's a personal journey or building a startup in the current economy.
Catch me on Spotify
Something I'm really quite excited about is AdLunam's new Twitter Spaces series (also available as a podcast via Spotify and elsewhere). Hosted by me, the Future of NFTs dives into the possibilities of nonfungible technology and the possible directions it can evolve into - specifically thanks to the highly interesting minds of the NFT pioneers I speak to.
Subscribe if this tickles your curiosity bone - every week seems to take on an exciting new direction. The first two episodes are out. One is focused on the fusion of art and music NFTs with Can Artsan, the co-founder of the uber-creative project Non-Fungible Albums.
The other is on inclusivity in NFT art (including the significance of the rape of Medusa, so definitely check out that one) with artist Mieke Marple.
And if you're so inclined, join me live this week on the AdLunam Twitter for a fun chat with the co-CEOs of metaverse game Cornucopias on the future of NFTs in gaming.
Till next week (plus, subscribe to have this land in your inbox) x
Love, love this! Thank you for sharing.😊