Part One
Anita Susuri: Can you tell us a little bit about your childhood, what do you remember?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, considering that I was born in Brestovac, long ago in 1959. My childhood began in Lipjan. At the age of three I came to Lipjan because my father worked in the former militia and they, as a military force, were subject to moving around according to the command and their commanders. So then we came to Lipjan in ‘63. Well, we settled down there because the police was transformed into, I mean the militia was transformed into police. Everything I remember from my childhood is connected to Lipjan.
So those first, those first impressions were that it was some small place, relatively private, we knew each other well. However, from today’s point of view, Lipjan was completely different back then. It was smaller and it was inhabited mostly by people who were not from Kosovo, which is very interesting, because Lipjan had a lot of mines, a lot of factories. So then, those first doctors, first teachers, they were all sent to serve their duty in Lipjan. And then they stayed with their families there. So in that aspect it was interesting, that socializing… it’s like you’re in the former little Yugoslavia (laughs).
And we hung out. Our fellow Albanian citizens settled relatively late in Lipjan because the personnel also arrived late. So only when the University of Pristina had fully started working in ‘68, ‘70 and slowly the infrastructure started developing, it became convenient for Albanians to live here. And they were, those first hangouts, they were connected to, to my friends, to the children of engineers back then, and doctors. We played all kinds of games, some of which you might know even today, but they are forgotten now, electronics are to blame of course. Yes, now we play alone, we don’t need company (laughs).
And then when the population mixing already started, I had great friends, Albanians too. That’s the reason why I speak Albanian so well, also because since I was little, I always liked to learn, I’m just like that. I like to learn new things (laughs). I liked spending time with my peers in the Albanian community and getting to know them, their language, and their culture, which I wasn’t used to.
Later, that was the norm… some people praise the state from back then, others condemn it. It had some advantages, it favored unity, if nothing else at least we pretended that we were united (laughs). And then there was an exchange of experiences. I share my knowledge with my friends, and what they know, they share with me. We had these sports socializings, since the fifth, sixth grade of elementary school, I was a very active eleven-twelve year old. I was involved in some sport associations. I was the most successful in archery. I always had great results, and somewhere in high school I even became the champion of Kosovo in air guns (laughs).
That was when I met, the very famous, Sanija Hyseni. She was the representative of our youth fromKosovo and she was even honored to hand the štafeta to Tito. She was also a very successful athlete then, she also did archery, so that was for me, let’s say, like the creme of the crop in society. I often compare those sports associations to today’s, you don’t have that today, today people don’t care as much about learning sports and would rather be good at other things. Back then practicing sports was a priority, and I liked that, in the systems of that time. So let’s say, sometime at the end of elementary and the beginning of high school I started actively practicing athletics.
There I was also very successful, I competed in combined events, I have some medals at home. Back then I went to federal and state championships. And then it was like, the republic always changed. Then I went to Ohrid, and Kladovo {waves hands} and Budva, then Umag, so you walk around and you get to know that country and then also as a ferijalac. You heard that the Ferijalni Savez existed, it’s an organization that gathered young people who wanted to get to know the country and to travel. You didn’t need a lot of money, each city had a Ferijalni Savez, if you can’t afford a hotel, you call the Ferijalni Savez, you get free accommodation and food, and for young people that was a great way to socialize.
So in that way we also had a chance to get to know the country which was so big back then. I wanted to connect in that way, we had cultural exchanges. So, at that time it was normal for everyone to know at least one song from every region of the former [Yugoslavia], and we would sing everything, starting with Macedonia, Kosovo and so on, whatever people knew. And it always sounded beautiful, at least it seemed beautiful… and then my studies started. I enrolled in ‘78. So my first school year was in ‘78-‘79. I finished in ‘84.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: This was in Pristina?
Omer Škrijelj: In Pristina, yes.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: What was Pristina like back then?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, it was good. It was good, I mean it wouldn’t be fair to say it wasn’t good, because it was. Because we had a lot of classes with colleagues from the Albanian group and well, that was fulfilling, so let’s say, even though I was in the Serbo-Croatian group, with the Serbo-Croatian language, I had Albanian professors who held classes for both groups, just like professors in Belgrade had groups both in Albanian and Serbian, so members from different universities could exchange experiences. For example, I remember Musa Haxhiu was the most eminent expert in the field of physiology, him and also Osmani, Izedin Osmani in microbiology.
So I don’t know, it’s also worth mentioning that back then, it wasn’t an obstacle where you came from. We were in a place to really, enrich ourselves spiritually and intellectually. I finished college pretty easily, I mean easy as far as time goes because I didn’t waste any time or years and I graduated in ‘84 and it was our task to learn but the state hired us immediately, so half of the focus was on education and half was getting into the workforce (laughs). You didn’t have to hurry, just to illustrate, it was a Thursday when I graduated and on Monday I started working.
Now, that’s the dream. I tell my kids now, it’s like a cartoon (laughs), they can’t understand it because it was actually like that. And then…
Erëmirë Krasniqi: Regarding the city of Pristina, do you remember how it was being built back then?
Omer Škrijelj: Yes, there were some, I call them uniform-like communist buildings. They’re not ugly, they were functional, but for today’s conditions they are not very pretty. Here, you still have in Aktash up there those buildings, those red and white ones, now the facades {raises arms} are repaired. It’s above the University, those blocks {shows direction} if you noticed, you’ll see. There’s brick, there’s concrete pillars, there’s balconies that resemble one another and on the outside everything looked like a box, to save space on the inside. They went for that, because let’s say back then, in the system of that time a worker, after some time, had the right to an apartment from the state.
And then the apartments were ranked, from one bedroom ones, two bedroom, three bedroom ones. When you got married, you get a one bedroom apartment, you have a baby, you go to a two bedroom one and so on and then you give way to the young ones. So, we didn’t own apartments as property back then, but the state gave them according to the size of the family and contribution at work. That was normal then. After graduating, I started working those mandatory years of service. I worked a bit in the community Health Center, and a bit in the clinic.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: In Pristina?
Omer Škrijelj: Yes, I worked in the Health Center in Lipjan, I was assigned a residency at the clinic. You had to visit every clinic back then, to complete a part of your residency because we were general practice. So you had to know a little bit about everything. Then came our usual obligations. Us men had to serve one year in the military. However, I don’t consider that as a loss personally because during my service, the first six or seven months, I was in special education at the VMA, the Military Medical Academy.
So, apart from the medical, well, courses, I passed some thirteen tactical courses as a soldier, so I could become, in the structure of the military then, some sort of commandant. And okay, all that seemed pretty nice to me because from an expert point of view it was good. I was within reach of professors, eminent experts, and today VMA is a recognized institution. And then as a resident, like a reserve officer, I was in Ljubljana for about six months and also had great work conditions there. Even today they are ahead of us.
Sometimes you feel that regret, “Why didn’t I stay?” But we in the south preferred family over a good career (laughs) so we came back home. And the year passed.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: What else do you remember from that period?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, [I remember] those ordinary military days, and again, the neighbors. There you had people from all over. Although I was already in a period which gave me a little happiness. Already those gaps between people formed, people started to divide, those years were not so good for Kosovo Albanians. When they started dying in the army, maybe you remember, maybe they told you, you’re young, it’s…. Let’s say in ‘86, when I was in the army, when I came back around ‘93 or ‘94, many young Albanian had already died in the army. They called it an accident, an accident. But if you think about it, that was a big number of accidents then.
Then you had that Kelmendi case and so for us from Kosovo it wasn’t very pleasant, there were nonstop interrogations and you had to explain you’re not part of that, nobody is bothering you, and this and that. Anyways, my focus was more on my job itself and that’s why I only have a few of these everyday anecdotes. I wanted to be more, to not be in the mainstream of the times, but a bit more hajde {waves hand} let people go, just don’t bother me. And anyway, I decided to, when I got back from the army, I chose this place for work because down there [Lipjan] is a bigger institution, Pristina even bigger, which will always limit people.
Considering that I am a Bosniak and not from around here, I didn’t have a big family for that sublime [In English] support, but it was better for me to remove myself because then, by those standards I had potential. I was one of the top-twelve students of my year. So for reference, Afrim Blyta, that famous Jusuf Ulaj, and Kelmend Pallaska, were all my generation. We worked together then and it was expected of me to join them, to tell you the truth (laughs).
It came as a surprise, that I stayed in the Health Center, but at least I spared myself from these conflicts. Many people who wanted to fight, got killed. The political situation wasn’t very good and that lead me to Janjevo. There was a, this new building was just built in Janjevo.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: What year was this?
Omer Škrijelj: ‘88. November 17 it was opened, it was Liberation day of Lipjan and that’s when I accepted this position, and in May of ‘89, the year when all this was renovated, when they put things in, that’s when I came to work and live there.
Anita Susuri: What was Janjevo like?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, Janjevo was interesting. Some five to six thousand Croatians and some Turks and Albanians lived there, but Roma people also. What was mainly interesting back then was, as a young man, you had friends everywhere, but here they were also respectful. Let’s say, I walk up and this old man says “Mister doctor” or whatever, wait, at that time we said, “Come on comrade” this, or “Come on comrade” [refers to female] that, and suddenly I’m in a place where it’s like I left the country (laughs). And also, there was more socializing than in other places. So I had the impression that all of Kosovo wanted to relax, to have fun, to come to Janjevo and have a nice time (laughs).
Because, as we say, we ate, we drank, we sang {waves hands} we partied from sunrise to sunset. So there wasn’t a set working time but the authorities allowed everything to be open until the morning,there was no closing (laughs). So yeah, there was a lot of socializing in the çarshia. And it was a custom to like, we didn’t do home visits. Like instead of me going to your house and then you coming to mine, we met in the çarshia. And the women visited each other. So yes, it was a little bit separate (laugh) in that way. And it was very interesting.
Anita Susuri: Where did you go the most? What coffee shops were there?
Omer Škrijelj: Well now most of them are closed. I remember, we counted once, there were nine taverns and twelve coffee places. Can you imagine? In this small place. There was so much youth that they were all full. You were never sure if you were going to have a place to sit (laughs). It was all full because there were so many people, it’s normal here that one family has seven, eight, nine children. That was…
Erëmirë Krasniqi: Among the Croatians?
Omer Škrijelj: Among the Croatians, yes. Because that probably comes from the catholic religion, they forbid abortions and they forbid ending pregnancies of any kind so those families were like that, with a lot of people. Which is why a small place like this had so many people. When you look at it, all of it {waves hand}, in a few steps you’re in any neighborhood. You noticed, tight streets, close houses, and in every house a lot of kids. So there lived, I’m telling you, five, six thousand people.
Anita Susuri: When you came here, you already had a family or?
Omer Škrijelj: No, no. I got married there. There are two factors that brought me here, the one I said, to avoid these conflicts that were coming, that were already coming. It was that famous September then, when they expelled the Albanian personnel, Albanian personnel from every public institution. It was in the ‘90s and somehow I left before ‘89- ‘90. So I felt that something was not going to be good, so it would be better for me here. And the other factor was, I got married, and every young woman likes to just be with her husband. And then, why would I go to the family house when we are offered a comfortable apartment here.
So then, that’s how I got here and stayed to this day, because of circumstances, because somehow since then, nothing bad has happened. There were always some conflicts, always some double crossings, some overturns. Which was good, for example, during the Balkan wars, this place disappeared, practically disappeared. Albanians themselves, they say it without inferiority complex, “Janjevo was Janjevo, while Croatians were here.” And today Janjevo is still Janjevo.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: Can you tell us more about that, what was Janjevo like when you first came? Do you remember more of that different atmosphere?
Omer Škrijelj: So, I’m saying, the atmosphere was like this, here I’ll describe one day and maybe that will give you a good idea of how Janjevo was. Let’s say you get up in the morning, you were never the first in the çarshia, there was always someone there before you. Mostly those were housewives that would do their washing on the street, usually near the entrance of their homes. Back then cobblestone was popular, but the one from Turkish times, hand placed. And it would shine in the morning sun, and the greenery {waves hand}, a lot of greenery filled it, enriched the view.
There was a lot of greenery here too, {waves hand} in the çarshia. Now the concrete took over because of construction and all. There was a lot, some branches even reached my balcony (laughs). And you walk out, filled with this freshness, into the çarshia, to have your first morning coffee, and the taverns are already full. Someone is already there. There were some workers of Metalac, workers who went to Pristina. The bus leaves at 6:30 AM from here, so it was like this {crowded} around 6:00. That’s when I liked to go out, when it was six o’clock, when everyone was there. There was always something happening, we would joke around a little and then everybody went on their way. I opened my office and the patients knew, I didn’t even have to wait for them here.
If I went for a coffee, they’d call me and I’d come back here. It wasn’t unusual for them to call me for a house visit, so I went there also, to these house calls. And I say, it all looked so beautiful, we had a great time. The center of socializing was the church up there, because these people of Janjevo were very attached to their church. So when more important things were discussed, doctors and teachers were always involved in these infrastructural plans. What are we going to demand from the municipality? What are we going to demand from the province? Let’s agree and they’ll make it happen.
So that happened in the church up there. I show up as a doctor, some of these scholars came, teachers or whoever. And then we make plans for how we would like this place to be, the best and the most desirable, for the good of all citizens. Then after a while, things started to crack there.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: What were the houses then?
Omer Škrijelj: Well you can almost picture it based on how things look now. But now they’re a bit run-down and back then they were pretty, the facades were repaired every spring. It was custom that everybody repainted in the spring, no exceptions. You saw it, it mostly painted in white, it looked very nice, compared to the roofs. It’s that old turkish ćeramida, later they started buying these tiles (laughs). And well, even though the houses seemed fragile, they were reliable, they lasted a long time.
There’s a good example, that tower of stones, you’ll see somewhere south. It’s around 300 years old, it belonged to Cirimotić family and they had their own [home], now it’s empty. It was built, it was built from the materials that were found there. From stones, those earth-made adobes or from materials that they made. And they had great craftsmen. Craftsmen from Janjevo were renowned, they were even invited to work in other places. That’s why these buildings are still around (laughs).
Erëmirë Krasniqi: What kind of craftsmen, can you tell us more?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, by way of life and organization Janjevo was never a village. Because by definition, economists know it better, a place is village if fifty percent of the people are in agriculture. Nobody here was in agriculture. We did various trades, plastics, metals, then the handiwork, then construction work, woodworking, even money was produced for a while, the old townsfolk say. I of course don’t remember that (laughs), it was produced here because well, they hired people from certain groups and its been like that since the dawn of time.
Janjevo is more than 300 years old, actually more than 700. Because in 2003 it was the seven hundredth anniversary of Janjevo. So in 1303 Janjevo was formed. And it was formed by those Dubrovnik craftsmen. They came as craftsmen and not as men of agriculture. And so their reputation formed. Here you have a phenomenon, to mention something historical, I read about it and talked to these scholars. There’s a phenomenon that the majority, I mean the minority, has assimilated to the majority. Today you have people of Janjevo declare that they are Serbs or Albanian, now they won’t say anything besides that they are Janjevo catholics.
Because in order for them to be accepted in the çarshia, into that inner-circle where quality work was done, trades, production of precious metals, they had to accept the religion and the customs of those people. So the nearby Albanians came, Serbs from north and you can tell what they are from their last name, for example, it can’t be like… I tell you, maybe I’m not that qualified. For example, for a Janjevo man to be a Đurić or Antić or what do I know here, Rodić or some others of Albanian descent, or Palja well, Palići and then these Burhani, Biklići, but later it was all mixed together, so that even today in the çarshia they call each other “rođo”. (laughs)
A Janjevo man could still remain muslim, I mean Albanian, and another one could become catholic. They all knew they had a shared history, and it didn’t bother anyone. It’s interesting, during the time when I came everybody spoke Turkish, it was kind of a universal language. The Croatians spoke Turkish also, the Albanians spoke Turkish, Roma also. And now that I mentioned Roma, a lot of Janjevo people spoke Roma also. Because most of the workers were Roma people, a lot of the businessman who owned companies knew how to speak it.
And they were friendly with them. No matter from where they came from, they created a very friendly environment. For you to come to a place where you can be yourself without any problems, that’s a relief to the soul. When someone forbids you free expression, you’re trapped in a cage (laughs). And here you can be open minded, you can say whatever you want, express yourself however you want, and nobody will take it personally (laughs). But then, the hard years came, war years. It began in Bosnia, Croatia and the Croatians moved out of here quickly. From ‘91-‘92 practically 80 percent of the people in Janjevo left.
Erëmirë Krasniqi: Can you tell us, there was a meeting here, did Serbians come here?
Omer Škrijelj: Well, yes. Those were the encouragements, as I call them, encouragements. He comes, he walks, he doesn’t have to say anything. Here, when Šešelj walked through Janjevo, he didn’t have to say anything. He just, it was enough that he was here. It was almost as if, “What are you waiting for? We’re fighting in Croatia, and you’re sitting around here.” I mean, that was the meaning of it. So, encouragement wasn’t necessary, people knew it, they felt the moment. In the end, Janjevo people have good intuition, they can figure things out for themselves. The state of Croatia was also very interested in these people and helping them find accommodation when they came from Janjevo. So they didn’t go to live in tents, they went to a well organized housing area and they gave them separate housing units, which enabled them to leave [or stay] if they did not see themselves fit.
So somehow in one move, the interests of the Serbs and Croatians were satisfied, they could separate their people and free up the space in Janjevo. Which later was, unfortunately, a part of Serbian policy. To clear the space, and what they were intending to do, God knows, thank God it didn’t happen. If everybody came to their place, everybody came to their house to live their life and the rest is up to God, as they say (laughs).