Prizren, Kosovo – The 400 year old ornate ceiling of Sinan Pasha mosque soars above our heads. We ask the imam, a man in his late 40’s, if we can climb it’s stone minaret. It’s a long shot. He agrees. It’s the imam’s first time going up, too, he admits. This kind of gracious hospitality has been the norm in Kosovo. He unlocks the small wooden door and we step into the dark. It’s black as night, and barely shoulder width wide. We probe and spiral our way up the steep steps. It takes concentration. A thick coating of dust and pigeon crap makes the footing unsure. Every few minutes spiraling tunnel comes to life as we pass a small window. Five, maybe 10 minutes go by. We emerge into the daylight at the top of the tower. Prizren bustles below us, and fades to the west. I briefly look up to the Shar mountains behind us. They haven’t been as kind as we hoped. In this moment, it doesn’t matter.
