Lake Ohrid is one of the oldest and deepest lakes in the world and has been put under the conservancy of the UN, attracting curious tourists from around the world. Macedonia's historical duality has created a unique atmosphere in the land touched by Greeks, Illyrians and contemporarily Yugoslavians. This mesh of heritage left a toll on the mentality of the inhabitants along with the influx of Albanians taking up a significant amounts of land. There is a sense of division and separation between Macedonians and ethnic Albanians. Cities and villages are labeled by flags, religious objects and even dress code to differentiate two cultures and two ways of life.
Especially, during the month of Ramadan these differences come to the surface more prominently than ever. Even in this desolate location of Ohrid, 400 kilometers away from the capital, located close to the border of Greece, the line of separation is thick. The downtown area laying by the lake and resembling more of a sea city than one occupying the lake, is filled with historical sights, modern restaurants and cafes. One of the oldest Christian non-denominational churches dating back to the 10th century, St. Sofia, erects humbly in the midst of centuries of changes. The city comes to life at the early evening where locals and visitors both take strolls around this combination of new and old, Macedonian and Albanian, while constantly being reminded of historical duality and its legacy.
Not too far away from the lake and mentioned church, the second part of downtown area extends into shopping center, more cafes and different wardrobe choices. As I mentioned, the Ramadan was in full swing during our stay, so people were coming out late to enjoy a bit of a nighttime after challenging fast. As we were passing by all these sights, I could not help but sense the separation unavoidably evident among the locals. In this part of town, dominated by ethnic Albanians and Islamic influences, instead of a church, a mosque stays erected and instead of loud music, Ezan (a call to prayer) can be heard. Women were veiled while men enjoyed Turkish coffee commemorating the most important month of a year. These two separate worlds merge as one in the most odd fashion, when one stands on the imaginary border between the two areas. On that crossing, people mesh up together and the overlapping voices of distinct languages, loud music and Ezan create demiurgic experience where those crowds become unified blurring the lines of separation. In a split of a second, they become same in their differences. Unfortunately, this occurrence does not last long as everyone at some point heads home to their ethnically divided neighborhoods.
A couple of days were sufficient to absorb the oddity and beauty of Ohrid. The next stop was Croatia, Orebic, at least 15 hours away. Another long journey ahead on the buses of discomfort and pain. But before we hit the road, the observation I have discovered in Ohrid is that all things do fall apart. That split of a second that combines people together disappears into forgetting sooner than it appears. So, that all things do fall apart is evident, but what is more important is how long can they last put together?? Perhaps, that is the question to significant number of contemplations I ponder on. Even if everything falls apart, there is that moment when synchronization of life and those around us harmonizes into a unified form, erasing our differences and allowing this shortly lived second to echoes longer after it falls apart.
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