'Tell Me More' Audio Postcard Text
I traveled to the Balkans in 2003 to find out how it was that the Republic of Macedonia, a country with every reason to go to war, somehow did not. Like Bosnia, Macedonia was poor, multi-ethnic, and struggling to define itself apart from Yugoslavia. And yet, time and again, it managed to cut a peaceful course.
But peace hasn't brought the prosperity you might expect, and many of the country's best and brightest feel they have to leave to have a better life.
That's true even at Southeast European University. I was a college student myself when I first traveled to Macedonia and I became intrigued with that new, multi-ethnic university. Before the university came, the land was orchard, and a little plot has been kept where students and teachers can grab apples fresh from the tree. Everything else is completely modern, with buildings painted in bright colors. Blue language lab, red café, orange dorms.
And the academic approach was fresh, too. Macedonia's older, state-run universities are notorious for rote memorization, absentee professors, bribery, and ethnic discrimination. But at Southeast European University, bright-eyed instructors come from all over the world to hold discussion groups and office hours, encouraging students to broaden their minds and think for themselves.
I returned recently, as a new class was graduating. I wanted to interview them, to ask that age-old question: "What's next for you?"
There they were, wearing flip flops and sunglasses, strolling around the campus. Some were tan from a recent group trip to Spain, a triumph in itself when you consider the visa restrictions that make it nearly impossible to leave Macedonia. They're an impressive bunch — bright, confident citizens of the world.
One student named Maria met me with cigarette in hand, exclaiming, "I must quit! I leave in two weeks and I can't smoke where I'm going!"
I imagined her in a spotless office in Switzerland, collecting credentials and skills that she'd use later to take over the whole Macedonian government.
Then she announced, "I'm going to Louisiana!"
I told Maria that people smoke there, too. She laughed.
"Heather, only the poor people smoke. I will be working in a casino. Only rich people can afford to gamble and they don't smoke."
Now I imagined Maria, this scholar with all of the promise in the world, surrounded by big, plastic cups filled with casino tokens and dead-eyed gambling addicts, yanking on slot-machine levers.
But I can't say that it's shocking that Maria and her classmates are seeking greener pastures outside of Macedonia. The university prepares them to take part in a new, prosperous, European future, but it can't guarantee that future here. The country avoided all-out war, but it still has its same old problems. Its unemployment is still 40 percent. The economy is still largely state-run and stagnant, awash in petty inter-ethnic politics and corruption.
And so, for now, Macedonia's best, brightest, and most tolerant will come to my country to mop floors and clean toilets. They will leave behind their own country, which needs them, but will have to limp along without them.
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