It’s impossible to talk about my first plane trip before 2024 without describing the stress and torture of the visa application process. I faced a stream of endless documents, long waits, the anxiety of awaiting a response and constant worry about whether I had missed something important — or made a mistake.

Whenever I think back to my first plane ride, my mind immediately returns back to February 2020. It was a Friday, when I found myself going on 30 hours without sleep. I was in my first year of studying architecture at the University of Business and Technology (UBT) in Prishtina. An assignment was due at 9:30 a.m., and despite having an appointment at the Swedish Embassy in Prishtina the next day to submit my visa documents, I had stayed up all night. 

Almost two hours after submitting the assignment, my father took me to the embassy to hand in the documents. Exhausted, I returned to my hometown of Rahovec, over an hour away from Prishtina, to take a much-needed nap after a tiring day. In the midst of my best sleep, my family abruptly woke me, saying the embassy had called to inform us that my fingerprints had not been taken correctly and I needed to return immediately.

After two weeks filled with anxiety and countless questions running through my mind, I finally received a positive response from the embassy. A few days later, I embarked on the trip to Sweden — a country I was eager to move to, where I could restart my architecture studies anew.

My first experience on a plane was full of surprises and learning curves. The unfamiliarity of the  airport turned out to be the most fascinating part of the journey. Initially, I assumed after passing through security — where I showed my ticket and travel documents — the only step was to go straight to the plane. I hadn’t realized there were many more procedures ahead. One moment that remains both surprising and devastating, was discovering that my deodorant, among my liquid products, exceeded the limit and was confiscated. Watching the security agent toss the brand-new deodorant into the trash was something I didn’t like at all.

When we boarded the plane, I looked around curiously. My dad, who had already travelled by plane before me, explained that we needed to find our seat numbers. I had no idea where to even look for the seat numbers.

My curiosity didn’t go unnoticed by my father, who had a window seat. Knowing it was my first time on a plane, he kindly offered to switch seats with me.

A sense of calm spread everywhere

After a flight of over two hours, we arrived at Växjö Airport, a small city in central Sweden located in the Småland region. What impressed me was the size of the airport, which was significantly smaller than Prishtina International Airport — both in terms of physical size and in passenger and flight capacity.

We made our way to the city. As I looked around, I was struck by the clean streets, where people didn’t smoke and throwing cigarette butts on the floor was unthinkable. Växjö wasn’t the only city I visited in Sweden. To explore the universities, I also traveled to other places, including Huskvarna and Nässjö.

At the universities I visited, I was impressed by the warm and comfortable student spaces, the students scattered throughout the faculties, the coffee machines, drinks and food available for students, the computers and the libraries filled with both physical and digital books.

What impressed me most was the city’s urban plan, perfectly organized and thought out down to the smallest detail. For the first time, I saw something I had never experienced in Kosovo or other Balkan countries like Albania or North Macedonia — countries I had traveled to without needing a visa. In Växjö, there were no buildings taller than five stories.

Greenery was abundant, with tall trees, oaks and shrubs lining the streets. The well-organized neighborhoods made the residents’ privacy hard to miss, with their homes set far apart and surrounded by natural fences of greenery. At first glance, this created a sense of calm and order that spread throughout the area.

People walked peacefully, even late at night, thanks to the ample street lighting. It was hard not to admire the passersby, especially the elderly, who often were engaged in physical activities. They seemed full of energy. These simple details convinced me that life can be much better and more peaceful. It takes the right mindset, careful planning, a desire to improve and respect for what is necessary to help maintain a stable society.

However, I have to admit that, although the people were very kind, I felt a bit distant. After a few days, I began to miss the closeness we had with one another.

Today, when I look back, I realized how paradoxical and absurd it was that just four years ago, traveling outside Kosovo was a rare and privileged opportunity. Before travel became more accessible, travelling outside the country was an achievement, especially with the visa process, which required great effort. It could make you feel more privileged, perhaps even more successful, compared to those who didn’t have the freedom to move without obstacles. There was a sense of superiority that came from the ability to travel, something many people still didn’t have.

This feeling, which had been part of an inexplicable reality for many years, began to change when I had the opportunity to travel and experience firsthand the world I could only experience through social media, stories, and people’s descriptions.

My experience in Sweden, for example, was an unexpected and profound change. What I had always heard as an “ideal” was now my reality, one that gave me a different perspective on life. I came to realize that many of these countries provide opportunities and lifestyles that, despite our long period under a visa regime, still seem unreachable to us. This experience has given me a new appreciation for the opportunities I have and a deeper understanding on the importance of having the freedom to act and explore.

Feature Image: Atdhe Mulla / K2.0

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This blog was published with the financial support of the European Union as part of the project “Diversifying voices in journalism.” Its contents are the sole responsibility of Kosovo 2.0 and do not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union.