Peja – The Muslim Bazaar and the Orthodox Monasteries

Peja – The Muslim Bazaar and the Orthodox Monasteries

I teamed up with a Slovenian couple and an English guy whom I met at Velania guest-house for a trip to Peja. I didn’t know at the time how important Peja was, but I learned to trust people who traveled with a guidebook. Without much planning on where to go other than Pristinia, I feel relieved to find someone who would lead me during my remaining days in Kosovo. We arrived in Peja early in the morning, had a burek breakfast and a round of espresso before setting out to explore the city. Peja is a small town; we didn’t break a sweat finding our way. All we needed to do was following the main street from the bus station toward the mountain which dominated the city landscape, passing small shops, car parks and street cigarette vendors until we arrived at the entrance to Peja’s bazaar.

There were the usual stuffs seen in a typical Turkish-style bazaar, red carpets, wooden crafts, souvenirs, elegant clothes imported from Turkey, bright-color T-shirts, tops, sweat pants, household items made in China, etc. Albanian turbo-folk and traditional music competed blaring on an otherwise quite section of the market, which would delight me a great deal had I traveled on my own. But I traveled with a group now and didn’t want to slow others down by stopping and listening to the music. Barbara and I left the boys to check out a few clothing shops. It came as a great surprise to me to see many beautiful clothes in Kosovo, especially in small city like Peja. I thought with the lack of popular brand name like Zara, Mango, H&M, C&A, fashion of this country would reduce to low-quality, cheap-looking clothes imported from China as seen in many other Eastern European countries. I was completely blown away by the sight of pretty, classy and chic clothing styles seen in many stalls from the bazaar. I guess the close distance to Turkey in addition to the shared Islamic religious bond has provided Kosovo with another import source instead of the commonly known Chinese wholesaler.

The four of us took a taxi to Patriarchate of Pe? (Patrijaršija in Serbian) monastery, the spiritual seat of the Serbian archbishops and patriarchs, two kilometers away from the city center. When we arrived, immediately the Slovenian couple recognized the Slovenian flag on top of a military vehicle parked next to the check-point. There were only two millions Slovenians total. The odd of running into a Slovenian on your trip is high, and the odd of them running into another is even higher. The two Slovenians UN peacekeepers were extremely happy to meet their compatriots. I left them chit chat and took out my camera to shoot their pictures. They probably were too happy and didn’t care about enforcing the no-taking-photos rule, as seen on the sign in front of the camouflaged post. I had my photos with two of them, and then had another one with one of them on my camera, then on their cameras, then them with the Slovenes. “You can’t do this with the German,” our taxi driver said, confirming my opinion to Barbara when I asked Barbara if we could do the same thing if these were the German soldiers instead. The Slovene guards even forgot to keep one of our passports, as required to enter the church. To get there, we had to pass another military post guarded by two other UN soldiers carrying huge guns. After the end of the war in 1999, all Serbian monasteries were under protection by the UN to prevent attacks from Kosovo Albanians. This form of protection was good enough to stop vandalism acts carried out by one or a few men, but under a full-scale riot, I don’t see how these soldiers can protect the monastery and the defenseless priests and nuns inside as seen in 2004 when Albanians burned down many churches across Kosovo. The UN peacekeepers could just stand there and watch and escort the nuns and priests out.

This lovely church situated at the entrance of Rugova gore, making a fantastic break after the visit, reading up on the history of Kosovo against the mountain backdrop and the gentle stream running below. The church was painted red, an unusual color for many churches that I had seen. In front of the church, in the garden was the ruin of an ancient ground. Inside the church, on the walls were many fresco pictures, some were faded while some looked as fresh as if they were pained in recent years. The one attracted my attention was the dominant use of dark green and blue color in contrast to the typical bright gold colors seen in many other Orthodox churches. There were only a few visitors, all of whom were Serbs, accompanied by either by the nuns. The nuns were very old and frail. One could barely walk and had to rely on the aid of a lay woman who was also thin and old. We asked them a few questions before they excused themselves for the nun couldn’t stand for too long. I watched the old nun walking away. Underneath the frailty and senility hid defiance against isolation and danger for the love of God.

After the visit, our taxi driver took us to Visoki Decani Monastery, another important Serbian monastery in Kosovo. This one was a bigger and livelier commune. The monks grew their own vegetables on a piece of land nearby. They also made honey, soaps which you could buy in the souvenir shop. I felt completely at ease even before stepping into the courtyard soaking in the complete quietness and isolation of the monastery. Inside, unassuming Orthodox priests in black attires strolled around tending visitors and daily businesses. This mixture of solemnity and serenity drastically contradicted the presence of Italian U.N. peacekeepers guarding outside, occasionally gave me the feeling I was standing and witnessing a different era. This church was considered to be the best reserved medieval church in the Balkan. Like the Patriarch of Pec, this church had a large collection of fresco pictures and ornaments. One monk took us around, pointed out special pictures and told us stories. This monastery was looted and attacked numerous times throughout centuries not only by the Ottoman Muslims but also by the Orthodox from Bulgaria. Many relics stolen from here can be seen nowadays in museums in Sofia. The most important relic, the body of King Stefan, laid in a coffin in front of the altar, however, remained intact. During one attack, the Bulgarians had King Stefan’s body on a cart and ready to take him to Bulgaria. A miracle happened, and the cart would not move. The Bulgarians were forced to leave the body behind and ran away with other treasures. The last recent attack happened in 2007 when an Albanian threw a grenade which didn’t cause major harm.

We were invited to the monk’s housing area for tea and homemade juice which at first we thought they sold it to supplement the church’s income. Uros thought it was a good marketing ploy when one monk told us to visit the chapel and then come up to have a
drink. But the drink was free including the Easter eggs the monks gave to us after.

See the frescos inside the church here.

… to be continue…