THE SECRET LIFE OF SHOES

Kosovo is somewhat of a dusty place. Much of this dust comes from the country’s power plants. Some of it comes from the poor emissions standards on cars, the many unpaved roads, and the constant construction. All this dust makes for consistently dramatic and beautiful pink and orange-hued sunsets. It also makes for very dirty shoes.

The first week that we were here, Michaela and I both noticed that not only are Kosovar women exceptionally lovely but that they always seemed to have perfectly clean shoes. We marveled at this: our own shoes seemed to have a permanent layer of brownish-red film. Like many civilized people, Kosovars remove their shoes inside their homes or when visiting other people’s houses - and as we placed our own dusty boots next to a row of perfectly polished, carefully-lined up shoes and slid on the slippers offered by our host, I felt a tinge of embarrassment at their condition.

This awareness of my dirty shoes took on a new dimension after my few days in Kosovo, when we moved from Pristina to Peja/ Pec. The morning after my first night there, we went outside to put our boots on and head off, only to find that they were completely clean and blacked. As we stood there being pleasantly surprised, the woman who ran the house where we were staying walked past me, lifted up my shoe, ran a shoe brush over it a few times to knock off any minor dust that had settled on it overnight, and handed it to me to put on. I thanked her mightily in my limited Albanian, but wondered whether I might inadvertently have offended her with my rude shoes. I made a mental note to ask a friend later about it.

When I asked my friend later, she told me that hospitality in this part of the world is such that often your shoes are attended to by your hostess and brought to you again clean when it is time to leave. In Kosovo, it is sign of respectability to have clean shoes. Your shoes may be worn, but at least they should be clean! Look there, she said, and pointed out a young woman across the street. The woman was getting ready to go into a government building and looked to be dressed for an appointment, with a briefcase and a slightly nervous look on her face. As I watched, she took a small piece of cloth out of her bag, knelt down gracefully, and wiped her heels clean with a quick and polished movement. Then she stood up, and after quickly assessing her work she continued into the building. My friend looked at me and smiled. You might want to get one of those pieces of cloth, she said.