3 Border crossings, shame and (re-)narrating the past in the Ukrainian–Romanian borderlands Kathryn Cassidy In April 2008, I celebrated my birthday in the village of Diyalivtsi,1 where I had been living since October 2007, while carrying out research on informal economic practices in the Ukrainian–Romanian borderlands. My host, Rodika, and I had spent some time preparing food and drink for visitors and the first to arrive were our good friends and neighbours Luchika and her daughter Zhenia. Luchika and her son-inlaw Dima were both cross-border small traders of
7 Silenced border crossings and gendered material flows in southern Albania Nataša Gregorič Bon My friend Maria and I were sitting on the front porch of the house of the village teacher, Naso, admiring his garden in the spring sun.1 Naso was in the kitchen, preparing a welcome drink (qeras/kerasmo2). Within a few minutes he was in the doorway, holding two glasses of peach juice, which he carefully set on the table in front of us. He smiled and said: When a man is at home alone he brings the drinks in his hands and not on a tray as his wife would do. This is
humanitarian aid and/or to organise the evacuation of civilians. Perhaps a notable exception is resolution 2165 of 14 July 2014 on Syria, which authorises the opening of border crossings meant to allow the delivery of aid to opposition-held areas – an idea very similar to that of humanitarian corridors ( Gillard, 2013 ; Hall, 2021 ). Whether it is by land, sea, river or air, a humanitarian corridor is a strip of territory that is supposed to allow the unobstructed deployment of humanitarian aid and/or movement of civilians. This basic definition notwithstanding, the
( Christian et al. , 2011 ; Chynoweth, 2019a ). In Peru, Syria and northern Uganda, men and boys were sexually violated in their homes and in public, in addition to imprisonment ( Leiby, 2012 ; Chynoweth, 2017 ; Schulz, 2018 ). In Somalia and South Sudan, sexual victimisation of men and boys has been documented during flight, at checkpoints and border crossings ( Chynoweth, 2019b ; Nagai et al. , 2008 ). In Liberia and
Migrating borders and moving times explores how crossing borders entails shifting time as well as changing geographical location. Space has long dominated the field of border studies, a prominence which the recent ‘spatial turn’ in social science has reinforced. This book challenges the classic analytical pre-eminence of ‘space’ by focusing on how ‘border time’ is shaped by, shapes and constitutes the borders themselves.
Using original field data from Israel, northern Europe and Europe's south-eastern borders (Kosovo, Albania, Montenegro, Sarajevo, Lesbos), our contributors explore ‘everyday forms of border temporality’ – the ways in which people through their temporal practices manage, shape, represent and constitute the borders across which they move or at which they are made to halt. In these accounts, which are based on fine-tuned ethnographic research sensitive to historical depth and wider political-economic context and transformation, ‘moving’ is understood not only as mobility but as affect, where borders become not just something to be ‘crossed’ but something that is emotionally experienced and ‘felt’.
dynamics of the Ottoman–Montenegrin border that contributed to shifting identities, boundaries and allegiances among the local population. Local people found themselves Travelling genealogies 83 between the ‘soft’ margins of Ottoman rule on the one hand and, on the other, the political strategies of the Montenegrin rulers whose goal was to shift the border in their favour. Hence repeated border crossings, conversion to Islam or intermarriage were common social practices in the Montenegrin–Ottoman borderland. After having been marked – although still permeable and
, social, biological and cultural – all of which are related to time. Each of these border crossings affects their migrant experience. We have introduced new conceptions of migration time based on our work with migrants in Israel: ‘migration time’, ‘freedom time’ and ‘rupture time’. The first, ‘migration time’, sets aside migration as a special experience that all migrants have, different from everyday life. ‘Freedom time’ is, we believe, the first instance in the literature that an examination of time and migration is perceived to be an opening of a border, an expansion
well as their reactions to their ‘re-placement’ when a national border has itself been moved around. Our contributors seek to grasp how such changes are understood – emotionally, in terms of (new) futures and pasts; as part of trans-border community or network formation; and in terms of the time-space materiality of border-crossing bodies and things. The ‘moving’ in the title of our book thus indexes both mobility and affect, since when something ‘moves’ us, it stirs an emotional response. How do different groups – contract workers, labour migrants and smugglers
abroad, often for decades. This ‘culture of migration’ has changed through the years, in response to external and policy transformations. These have been drastic, including starkly modified European border and migration regimes as well as Kosovo’s own changing societal and political situation, particularly after the end of war in Kosovo in 1999. All of these changes have affected not only experiences of border crossing but also household and family relations within the village. Male labour migration has formed the basis of the household economy throughout rural Kosovo
It is a pleasure to contribute a few words to close this book, and for multiple reasons. First, the multi-mediated conversations of Lorenzo Ferrarini and Nicola Scaldaferri have long struck me as among the most interesting, progressive and experimental of border-crossing dialogues between anthropology and ethnomusicology. Specifically, they have struck me as going far beyond familiar polemics and prescriptions for ‘multimodal’ research and publication, by actually putting into expansive collaboration two different kinds of scholar-artists, one a theoretically