2012_12_16 Report #1 Skopje (Scupi)

Alexa reporting on her stay in Skopje

Ah, the misery until I find my next couch! 

I wrongly assumed that my hostess Zoya would be working, and going to her home in a residential area after my all-night bus ride, stranded outside all day wouldn't be good. 

Macedonia-FYROM is the Couchsurf listing. What is FYROM? I asked Zoya by email. Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia and a symbol of our subjugation. The Greeks like to claim Alexander the Great of Macedonia as their own. At her urging, I signed an online petition that nations have the right to name themselves.

You need small money to use toilets - which are increasingly holes in the floor - and a kindly Macedonian gave me a 10 bill when the change guy wouldn't deal with my Serbian or Macedonian cash at the station. It is so hard to spend all your cash before you leave a country, you never know when a border will pop up. Rivalry between former Yugoslavian provinces seems intense. Typically, large bills come out of the Bankomats, which can be as good as no money at all. 

Taxi drivers were hounding me. I showed one Zoya's address and he said it would cost 200 to get there. Never trust...I repaired to an Internet room in the train station where for a dollar (Bosnian money accepted!) I could catch up for an hour and email Zoya. There was a small shop with a public phone but I couldn't reach her (she was in the garden) and finally the shop girl handed me her own phone and Zoya called back but after I'd returned to the Internet cafe and seen a message from her: 200 is too much for a taxi, call this number. Soon I was off up the hill to warmth and safety at last!

Zoya lives on a mountain overlooking the city. There is a fountain and garden and grape arbor in her yard and trees with a pawpaw-tasting fruit I never saw before. The taxi driver lugged my suitcase up the steps. She rents the lower floor to students and thinks of converting it into a hostel. After waiting for me all day, Zoya was in the shower and her orange and white longhaired cat Kiki looked out at me. She is unsure she should neuter him. I'm all for it.

Zoya finally appeared, a tall former model with excellent English from working as an au pair in the states, where her sister lives. She has worked for NGOs and is now preparing for another trip to the US. She sees her cozy house as a burden left her by her parents. Though built in the '70's it is showing its age. Her principle task is keeping the wood-burner stoked, but there are also electric heaters (the price falls late at night). She had a lively friend over for rakia, wine and banana cake, Sylvana.

The next day, map in hand, I ventured down the hill to the city of Skopje, the famous stone bridge, and the Albanian bazaar. Skopje is statue-crazy! The main square is littered with oversized statuary, seated rulers, heroes on horseback, even a couple of modern ones of women, but they are shopping teenagers who do us no credit. A squat shoe-shiner on the bridge extended his hand to me and before I knew it my clodhoppers were being polished. He wanted double the price of my taxi ride but accepted a third.

There is a hilltop fortress, Kale, across the Vardar river and I found a modern but mostly empty art museum. Next I visited in the bazaar a two-story Turkish Inn, Kursumli An, around a courtyard, dating back to the Ottomans in the 16th century. It reminded me of a hotel I knew in Marrakech. A former bath house, Daut Pasha, has been turned into a modern art gallery. I bought an assortment of Turkish delights and sesame sweets to share with Zoya. The national art gallery was closed. Vagabond dogs were everywhere, and roasted chestnut peddlers. Another night visitor, a Hungarian woman, whose parents love to stay in Macedonia, it is like Hungary was twenty years ago.

The next day Zoya set off to buy a chainsaw (assembly required) and get Kiki washed and let me off at the old train station, a partial ruin since the 1963 earthquake stopped its clock, now a museum of Macedonian history from the stone age to the present. I was the only customer and took my time. On Macedonia street I saw a modern memorial museum to native daughter Mother Theresa, born in 1910, but it was closed. I spent the day trying to hunt down an outdated exhibit at the British council. I took off my shoes and peeped into one of the many mosques, delighted to find free deserted toilets nearby. 
Zoya and I talked about going to a winery for the night - a Groupon deal - but the falling show made her cautious, and we went instead to an Arabian restaurant in a shopping center - another coupon - and she delivered me to the bus station with moments to spare. She appeared again, having parked her car, to make sure I made it, the dear soul. She was so stylish in her brimmed hat and long strides.