"Why would you go there?"

 What did I just do? The question terrorized me like a passenger beside me watching adult videos on his laptop.  For the entire 8 hour connecting flight from Toronto to Skopje I couldn’t focus on anything and the broken screen in front of me wasn’t helping.  I was leaving my life behind to meet family I didn’t know and study business in a fairly undeveloped country with a completely different way of life.  With nothing to distract me, I couldn’t help but think back to when I got my visa signed the week before and it made me doubt my decision even more. 

“Why would you go there to study?” The lady at the visa office asked.  She looked constipated but I knew she meant puzzled.  “Most people leave Macedonia to study in Canada, what Canadian would go there” she added.  She was a typical Macedonian woman - so much makeup I could slap her face for my disappearing act, she smelled like a lit cigarette and for twenty dollars she took care of my visa in six minutes.  What I couldn’t understand was why a lady, who clearly should be promoting Macedonia as part of her job, would ask these negative questions.  Seven months later though, when I came back, I had my answers.

 Carev Dvor is just outside Resen

Macedonia was not a complete mystery to me before I decided to study there, but I barely got a taste of the lifestyle on my first two visits.  I first went with my family when I was ten and can only remember hunting with my Grandpa, my grandmother trying to pick up a turtle and toothless old ladies pinching my cheeks.  When I left to see my cousin and uncle in grade 11, I stayed at our village home in Carev Dvor (Emperors Court).  The city of Skopje, where I was going to live, was still a mystery to me.  Even worse, I knew it as this Gypsy filled smoke cloud, with Albanians waiting to jump you around every corner and stray dogs so violent, so fearless; they will attack anything from a human to a car.

 What did I just do?  No more time for questions, my plane had arrived.  I woke up the elderly lady who had been using me as a pillow the entire flight.  The flight crew and I said our goodbyes, and as I took my first step on Macedonian land my whole aura changed. I was dripping with adrenaline; my bags seemed lighter, and walking seemed effortless.  After 8 hours of torture I was ready to start my adventure – but had to wait an additional 45 minutes to get through customs.  I got into my uncle’s car and we took off towards the city.  We hit a red light and suddenly four or five Gypsies swarmed our car, begging for money and washing the windows with rags I was pretty sure they had just picked up off the ground.  My uncle let off the car horn so they scattered, turned to me and said, “Welcome to Macedonia.”