Conspiracy theories, pickles, and Kosovar music

For the last few weeks, we have had awful electricity. What actually is described by awful? One hour with electricity, five hours without. Yes, it pretty much sucks!!! The problem is that nobody in our village has paid their electricity for the last two years (we have paid, and are still getting sucky electricity), and they won't start paying anytime soon because the electric company expects them to pay their back bill. -back bill- a very large bill from the three years after the war when nothing was happening. It was delivered to the families three years after they returned from being regugees in Albania, and most of them can't afford to pay monthly on a current bill much less pay however much their bill is for three prior years! Not only that, but we are lumped in with two other villages. So even if our entire village is paying it may not make any difference!
Then, come the conspiracy theories. When asked why they don't even pay their current monthly bill, the villagers all hmm and hah and avoid the question and they start to shift the blame. "The real reason that we don't have enough electricity is because KEK (the electric company) is selling it!" "Yeah, Serbia is taking electricity that should be ours!" Blah, blah, blah. My complaint: all the conspiracy theories in the world do me no good if I don't have electricity. I think that the only conspiracy going on is one of stubborn people who aren't going to change and start paying their bills!!!

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On Tuesday I went to the hairdressers. I am always up for a visit to the hairdresser's since it so different from going to a hairdresser in the states. The gal who actually owns the shop and cuts my hair has six or seven other workers, who don't cut hair. They shampoo me, comb me, cover me with the big smock, clip my hair up, then Zana cuts my hair, then another one blows me dry and another styles me. Really interesting. But, what is even more fun is the atmosphere. I still have not seen "Beauty Shop", I am waiting for a good pirated copy (another blog, another time) to come out here in Kosova, but I have a feeling that it gives a good picture of what it is like here. Zana's hair salon more of a gathering place. Her mother, who is loud mouthed and bossy and tiny in stature to boot, gets in everyone's business, greets everyone, and orders everyone around. Her other daughters, Zana's sisters, also work there. But, on any given day, customers and friends, just visiting, fill the shop. I have always wanted to take an hour or so on Saturday mornings and go in and just visit them so that I could get to know them better, so I could watch the interesting that go in and out, and so I could learn Turkish. They all are Kosovar, and all speak Shqip, but they all speak Turkish in their families. So, as everyone grins and greets me in Shqip, there are at least five other conversations being blabbered around me. So frustrating to not know what they are saying!!! It would be fun if I could be a spot on the wall in there. The stories that get passed on would just be mouth-watering: Juicy bits of gossip, sad little stories, fights (with that many girls, and that mother, it's bound to happen), and who knows what else - I am still considering starting a book of all of these interesting little stories that happen at the beauty shop. And, in amongst all of this babble, and comeraderie, is me. Sitting in the swivel chair, grinning like an idiot who doesn't know what is going on (that's cuz I don't know what is going on), having my head jerked around by who-can-keep-track-of-how-many women, praying to God that my hair doesn't come out looking like Rachel's first season on "Friends" (it was cool at the time, but that time is gone!), and being grinned at like a silly, little child because I am the novelty. The outsider that they all like, but don't know what to do with. Very wierd, but interesting.
And, whenever I leave there, my hair strangely resembles Rachel's hair, but once I style it myself, it helps.
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And, what are Dan and Judah doing all of this hair stuff? Having their own little party in the van:

Dan: "We got hungry, so we ate some pickles. I bought a big jar of them at the store."
Amber: "Why did you buy them? Judah's never had pickles, did he like them?"
Dan: smile "I bought them for the kindergarten. He kept eating halves of them?"
Amber: "oh, cool, are they already cut in half?"
Dan: big smile "nope, I would eat a half and then give him the other half!"
Amber: "was he good, then?"
Dan: "oh, yeah, we had a great time. We listened to Kosovar music."
Amber: "did you dance, too?"
Dan: "yep, I wiggled and jived, and Judah clapped for me"
Amber: "oh, dear."
Dan: big, big smile.