The answer was no to Kosovo visit

So. No to Kosovo.

That sounds like a song lyric (not a very good one), but it’s actually the decision I reached on a recent weekend.

I know I’ve told the story before, but my being named a Fulbright Scholar back in the 1990s wasn’t really a matter of merit. It was a fluke. Pure and simple.

As I watched the former Soviet Union crumble, I was intrigued by the possibility of applying for a Fulbright to see if I could help that bit of history move along in the right direction.

I didn’t really have the right credentials. No PhD. No master’s degree.

While I had taught an evening class in journalism at Earlham College for several years, my resume would have qualified as “thin” by the most generous assessment. Skeletal might have been a more accurate description.

But the official guidelines said that in the case of journalism those degrees didn’t really matter if they were offset by years of experience.

So — in those pre-internet days — I made a phone call. The organization running the Fulbright program had produced what was essentially a catalog based upon what U.S. embassies around the world said they needed.

The usual process for academics applying for a Fulbright takes about a year and a half. But in this case there was a second list: Potential positions that had not been filled.

In other words, empty slots with no takers.

So I made a phone call and asked about one of those slots. It had been filled.

“Tell me about yourself,” said the woman on the other end of the line.

I gave her a brief sketch.

“What do you know about Moldova?” she asked.

I knew nothing. But a week later I was putting together a fast-track application to be a Fulbright Scholar. And several months later I found myself teaching journalism in Moldova and working with a handful of regional independent newspapers.

That should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Once you’re a Fulbrighter, you can also find yourself in the pool of “Fulbright Specialists,” folks who aren’t willing to go to the ends of the earth for a year or half a year but who can find a month or so on their calendars.

I have been a Fulbright Specialist about 1.1 times.

In 2012, that involved a month of journalism training in Myanmar, which proved enormously satisfying but has been countered by the cold, hard realities of a military coup.

The fractional experience was in 2009 when the assignment was to evaluate the journalism programs at the American University of Central Asia. It was only supposed to take a couple weeks, but I was deported upon arrival in Kyrgyzstan after being labeled “persona non grata.” I’d been blacklisted.

But I was still in the pool, and every once in a while an opportunity would pop up in my email.

Now, most sane people would not consider these things as opportunities. But, then again, most sane people don’t go into journalism.

So it was that I found myself reading about a potential project in Kosovo a few weeks back.

They were looking for someone to help the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Diaspora with its communication strategy and skills.

At first, it sounded intriguing. Kosovo is in the heart of the Balkans, one of those parts of the former Yugoslavia. Its history is fascinating and fraught with conflict.

Wouldn’t it be cool, I thought, to add another international chapter at my age?

And then I read further. Quickly it became clear that they needed someone else, someone with experience with public relations, with media strategies. Someone who would help get their message across.

That person is not I.

My message to the ministry would have been simple: Tell the truth as best you know it, be as transparent as possible and when you make a mistake admit it.

But I’m guessing that’s not what they want to hear.

So, after much reflection, it’s no to Kosovo.