Going on a quarter century
This wasn’t planned.
Let’s go back four decades, to 1980. I was a geeky and politically active teenager in high school, inspired by the campaign of Ronald Reagan for president, inspired primarily by his anti-Communist positions which drew me to his campaign and politics in general. But that was only the beginning.
A few years later at university I was drawn to the people and conflict in Central America, primarily Nicaragua and El Salvador, again because of my loathing of Communism and the desire of Nicaraguans and Salvadorans for freedom. After graduating from university, I had an opportunity to live in Washington, D.C., and work for the Republican Party. While there, I was again drawn to an anti-Communist peoples, this time to the plight of the Baltic countries, primarily Estonia, and shortly after the restoration of its sovereignty in 1991, I had the opportunity to visit the country. In Washington, D.C., and after leaving my work with the party, I went to work for a large, but independent, public relations company; we had clients in Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and then Kosovo, my first introduction to the countries and peoples of the Balkan Peninsula. Those were heady days, in Washington, D.C.
In the handful of years between university and my work with the PR firm, I thought I might end up staying Washington, D.C., perhaps as an analyst, writer, or some other type of foreign policy expert.
Instead, I ended up in Macedonia. Again, this wasn’t part of my plan.
It was May 25, 1996 when I first set foot in Macedonia as part of a three-day “reconnaissance tour” to see if I would be willing to take a three-month gig there later that summer with a humanitarian organization, Mercy Corps, based out of Portland, Oregon. At the end of a one-week client trip in Croatia promoting tourism, sailing down the Adriatic with American travel writers (a difficult job), I hopped on a flight to Macedonia and settled in for a long weekend of exploring Skopje (I remember, vividly, the details of that visit because I wrote them down shortly after that trip; I’ve been writing ever since, which helps me to remember). At the end of those 72 hours I told myself “Sure. I can come back here in July for three months. But only three months.”
Have a little adventure, engage in some fun, mingle with the locals, work a little bit, and head back to Washington, D.C. to continue with my illustrious career.
Whatever that was.
That was the plan.
And now, a full 24 years later, heading into my twenty-fifth year with Macedonia, I look back and marvel at it all.
I believe, very much, in God. And I know that God has plans for our lives, and that He also sometimes just allows things to happen — after all, we have agency as human beings, free will, though sometimes He allows things to happen but for His own purpose. (Some might scoff or laugh at the idea of “God’s plans” but that’s their problem and I don’t recommend laughing at God). But since this was not part of my plan, well then, it had to have been His plan.
The first seven of those 24 years were spent living and working in Macedonia, through 2003. For the balance of that decade, the aughts, much of my time was spent in country as well, engaging in various activities, though my home was (and is) in Arizona (I also had side gigs in a handful of other European countries). And since then, while my trips to Macedonia have grown less frequent, they have become richer, more alive, and perhaps more reflective, in a way. As the years have gone by, I have become more aware, perhaps a bit wiser, certainly more well-read, and definitely more knowledgeable; all of these things, combined, have given me a deeper insight into Macedonia and the Macedonians.
Through those years I have been blessed by my relationship in and with Macedonia and the Macedonians. It is my hope that I have encouraged my Macedonian family and friends and those Macedonians I have never met. While I have been fortunate to engage in numerous “projects” as I call them (a documentary film, promotion of Macedonian wine, podcasts, my writings, etc.) it is, ultimately, the people, the Macedonians, who have given me the greatest gift — their friendship.
This was never the plan, but it turned out very well indeed.
Of the Macedonians, the steady –
-warm and welcoming spirit and attitude;
-the generosity, especially a big, delicious meal with strong rakija or mastika and good wine;
-authenticity;
-laid-back (sometimes to a fault) attitude;
-simplicity (I mean this in the best of ways)
Of Macedonia, the ever-present –
-beauty of the mountains, forests, undulating hills, lakes, rivers, fields;
-history, heritage, and culture, all thick with meaning and purpose
The (oftentimes but not always) –
-stubborn attitude;
-loud and boisterous talk and banter;
-conspiracy theories
All of these things, the good and the less-good — and many more — endear Macedonia to me.
Going on a quarter century, what do I want for Macedonia and the Macedonians?
God-given rights — some use the term “natural rights” — are those rights that exist for all time and are available to all people. They pre-exist government — any government — governments do not bestow these rights, they secure these rights: the proper function of government rightly constituted is to secure these rights. One of these fundamental, natural rights is freedom, and freedom, properly practiced and understood, is liberty. And the blessings of liberty are manifold and manifest.
That is what I want for Macedonia and the Macedonians — the blessings of liberty.
I hope it remains part of God’s plan to allow me to continue to be blessed and to bless Macedonia and Macedonians, everywhere.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11
