[Info-tech] history of IPKO

[besnik.grajqevci at bt.com]

While browsing I came across this and though you might find it interesting.
Apologies if you have already seen it.

Besnik



Edited/Distributed by HURINet - The Human Rights Information Network
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## author     : advocacy at lists.advocacynet.org
## date       : 27.11.99
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ON THE RECORD: //Civil Society in Kosovo//----------------------------
======================================================================
Your Electronic Link to Civil Society in Kosovo
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Volume 9, Issue 10 -- November 11, 1999
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                       FROM THE EDITORIAL DESK

                   TECHNOLOGY, PEACE, AND OWNERSHIP

     This issue tells the story of how a group of
     information specialists wired up Kosovo to the
     Internet. They include our colleague, Teresa Crawford,
     from the Advocacy Project.

     Teresa has taken time off from our Project to work
     under the umbrella of the International Rescue
     Committee (IRC) on establishing a new Internet service
     provider (ISP) in Prishtina. Known as the Internet
     Project Kosova (IPKO) it sent out its first email
     message from Prishtina by satellite on September 20.
     Already, the IPKO is serving a score of international
     relief agencies and Kosovar civic organizations.

     This is one of the first times that this kind of
     information technology has been integrated into a major
     peace-building mission. There are important lessons to
     be learned.

     The project had to overcome many obstacles before it
     could establish that first exciting connection. Not
     surprisingly, many were technical. Telephone lines,
     electricity, computers, technicians -- all these are
     the lifeblood of information technology. None of which
     was readily available in a country that had been bombed
     and pillaged for months on end.

     But these technical difficulties were easy compared to
     some of the other challenges. For some weeks Kosovo was
     a dangerous free-for-all. Laws were made up along the
     way, by trial and error. Unmarked landmines lay strewn
     about the country. Minorities were intimidated and
     driven out. It was unsafe to be out on the streets at
     night. (A foreign aid worker was murdered in downtown
     Prishtina as recently as October 11.)

     The project had to sell itself to officials from the UN
     Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK), which was charged with
     governing Kosovo; that proved difficult. Even harder,
     it had to justify its existence to the Kosovars running
     telecommunications. They were understandably determined
     to consolidate their own authority, and suspicious of
     foreign initiatives.

     Is the IPKO a "foreign initiative?" This is indeed a
     key question. Far too many aid projects are conceived
     by international nongovernmental organizations (NGOs)
     seeking to take advantage of a donor's largesse (or
     guilty conscience), instead of responding to a local
     need and drawing from local talent. Too many projects
     are run for and by foreigners, without enough regard
     for the time when they will have to be handed over to
     those who are supposed to benefit.

     The IPKO was conceived by two young Americans who have
     a deep commitment to Kosovo, a fascination for the web,
     and a conviction that the new information technology
     can help to rebuild Kosovo.

     Paul Meyer, from the IRC, has provided the
     entrepreneurial spark and manages the project. Paul
     persuaded a company to donate a huge satellite dish and
     $900,000 worth of satellite time to the project. He
     also arranged for the IRC to lend the project $175,000
     to carry it through its first six months, and lined up
     paying clients among the international relief agencies.

     Teresa Crawford, our colleague, has identified Kosovar
     civil society groups that will receive the service for
     free. The third member of the team, Akan Ismaili, is a
     Kosovar Albanian and technical expert, who has managed
     all the technical aspects of the project.

     In this issue, Teresa, Paul, and Akan tell the story of
     how they secured the Internet link. We make no
     apologies for going into detail. Not only does their
     story provide an unusual insight into the workings of a
     major peace building mission, it also holds plenty of
     lessons for the future.

     But the IPKO team knows that this is only the
     beginning. It is one thing to establish a technical
     connection for Kosovo. It is quite another to ensure
     that it benefits Kosovars instead of foreign aid
     agencies, and that it plays a constructive role in the
     rebuilding of this damaged country after the emergency
     has passed. For this to happen, the IPKO has to be
     handed over in the right way, at the right time, and in
     a form that can be sustained. That will be the subject
     of the next issue in this series.

     Certainly, if it is not done, the hard work and
     inspiration that went into the IPKO will go to waste --
     like so many other well-meaning aid projects. (Iain
     Guest)

======================================================================

               WIRING UP KOSOVO (3) -- ONLINE AT LAST!

     (Teresa returned to Kosovo on July 2, for the first
     time since her arrest and deportation by the Serbians
     the previous year. In addition to editing this series
     of On the Record, she also planned to discuss an
     Internet connection for professors at Prishtina
     University. Her first call was to the family she had
     stayed with on her previous visit.)

- Returning to Kosovo

> From Teresa's diary:

     I went straight to the house where I had stayed the
     previous year. Hugs all round. Knowing what they had
     been through, I had brought a backpack of presents and
     several loaves of bread from Macedonia. We sat and
     exchanged news. The family had made it through the
     bombing and expulsions without any real incident. But
     their luck ran out the night the Russians arrived at
     Prishtina airport (June 9).

     The Serbian paramilitaries were out in force that
     night. They dragged one of the neighbors over, and held
     a gun to him while they asked Ibrahim for money. Before
     they left, one asked what computers Ibrahim had. He
     answered 486s. "What kind of computer is that for a
     computer expert?" replied the paramilitary. Ibrahim
     survived, but his neighbor was killed.

     I explained to Ibrahim that I was exploring the
     possibility of linking up the universities of Tetova
     and Prishtina by email. Ibrahim is a professor at the
     university and arranged for me to visit the technical
     faculty building. It is a huge building -- eight floors
     in all -- and is situated in the Sunny Hill
     neighborhood, which looked largely intact had
     survived.... Before the bombing, it housed two separate
     faculties -- one for computers, and the other for
     mechanics (engines and motors etc).

     We walked around gingerly. Many of the rooms had been
     used by Serbs as sleeping quarters. Every lock was
     destroyed and the rooms were littered with beer
     bottles, blankets, and porn magazines. But it also
     looked like a promising spot for a satellite dish, with
     its height and southern exposure.

     On the way back, we passed some of the buildings I had
     seen the previous year, when we were arrested. The UN
     refugee agency (UNHCR) is in the police station -- or
     what is left of it. The building where I was imprisoned
     last year is still standing. Damn. (July 2, 1999)

(Editor's note: Names have been altered in this diary
extract.)

- Post-War Vacuum

Serbian forces withdrew on June 12, and NATO's Kosovo Force
(KFOR) moved quickly into Prishtina. There was much work to
do. NATO's strategy during the war had been to break
Kosovo's links to Serbia. This left almost no intercity
telephone links between Kosovo and Serbia, although a small
number of telephone numbers (those that began with #5) were
linked to a newer system that had escaped the bombing. With
these numbers one could call outside the country, but not to
other cities in Kosovo.

Into the vacuum poured a small army of international relief
agencies desperate to coordinate with each other and keep in
touch with home base. Within days, mobile phones were
everywhere and satellite dishes had sprouted in the parking
lot of the UN Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK) and on rooftops. One
international agency spent over $15,000 in the first month
on satellite phone bills alone.

But the mobile phone system was hopelessly overloaded. There
was only one small antenna in Prishtina, and the Yugoslav
company MOBTEL, which provided the service, had sold far
more connections than the system could carry. This meant it
was always busy or crashing. (Some felt this was
deliberately intended, so as to disrupt the relief effort).

Some pre-war subscribers could log on via one of the
Internet providers in Serbia (EUNET or the Post and Telecom
[PTT]). But this required a functioning phone line -- and a
number that began with the number 5. As noted above, the
pre-war telephone system was overwhelmed with users and in
need of basic maintenance. Most international organizations
were reduced to checking their email via a satellite phone,
which cost up to $2.50 a minute.

There was one other Internet connection in Kosovo at the
time. The Grand Hotel in Prishtina allowed clients to log on
through a small satellite dish on the roof for a charge of

one D-mark (45 Cents) a minute. This was well beyond the
means of Kosovars.

The legal basis for telecommunications, like everything
else, was completely unclear. In theory, Serbia was still
sovereign over Kosovo. But UN Security Council Resolution
1244 (June 10, 1999) also instructed the UN Mission in
Kosovo (UNMIK) to ignore Serbian laws that were deemed
obstructive to Kosovo's autonomy. This was tantamount to
starting with a clean slate.

With the mood lurching between fear and exhilaration Kosovo
provided the perfect environment for new ideas -- but also
for total anarchy.

- The Internet Project Takes Shape

By July, Kosovo needed access to the Internet -- there was
simply no other way to communicate. Either it would have to
be supplied as part of the international aid effort or as a
commercial venture, in which case international relief
agencies would spare no cost to communicate with their home
base, while Kosovar organizations would compete to raise
funds for their own expensive connection. This would favor
those with the best links to the international community,
like the Mother Teresa Society or Koha Ditore (the Albanian
language newspaper).

Teresa went to the Balkans with the idea of supporting a
non-profit project to wire up Prishtina University. She got
the idea in March 1998, after testifying at the asylum
hearing of a Kosovar woman in San Francisco. The woman put
Teresa in touch with her cousin, a professor at the
university, and the two began to talk by email. He
encouraged her to explore ways of providing Kosovo with an
effective and neutral Internet service provider. It was not
until after the war that she was able to pursue the idea.

Teresa's first idea was to connect Prishtina with the
Albanian-language University in Tetova, Macedonia, which had
attracted many of Kosovo's Albanian intellectuals during the
refugee crisis. She met with Marko and Borja, two Slovene
techies who worked in a media lab in Slovenia, and the three
developed an idea for an Internet service provider (to be
called the Independent Balkans Internet Service -- IBIS).

But the cost proved too high, and Teresa was forced to focus
solely on Prishtina. She broached the idea with several
Albanian professors on her first visit, and they talked
about creating a new ISP at the Technical Faculty building.
This would have allowed the university to service its own
network of faculties, libraries, schools, and independent
media -- and so eventually reach a large sector of Kosovo's
civil society.

It helped that the Technical Faculty Building was
structurally sound. The problem was that it was also
dependent on the PTT and telephone lines -- like the rest of
Kosovo. This raised all kinds of technical and
administrative problems. The PTT was still Serbian-owned,
and in complete disarray. The best solution would be to use
a satellite. But this would be very expensive -- and it
would still need to go through the PTT.

Around this time, Teresa met Paul Meyer, from the IRC, a
prominent international refugee relief agency. Paul was
looking for ways to develop the Internet in Kosovo, after
his success in using the Internet to help reunite families
in the refugee camps (See #9 of this series).

Paul had grown disillusioned with the misuse of technology
during the refugee crisis and was interested in finding
shared technological solutions for the international
humanitarian community. He was keen to develop a project
that forced agencies to share technology, resources, and
information.

While he was in Albania, Paul had also spent time with the
founders of the Soros foundation's wireless academic
Internet. While that project was successful, the foundation
had grown tired of covering the costs year after year. Paul
wanted to develop an ISP in Kosovo that financed itself with
revenue rather than relying on donor money. He saw an
opportunity to sell service to the humanitarian agencies and
create a self-sustaining non-profit ISP in the process.

Paul knew from working with the refugees that there was one
very large satellite dish sitting unused in the former camp
at Stenkovac, and a year's supply of satellite time that had
been promised to the refugees -- all of whom had now
returned to Kosovo. He suggested asking the owner of the
satellite dish (the company Interpacket,
<www.interpacket.net>) whether this valuable package could
be shifted from Stenkovac to Prishtina, and used to set up
this non-profit ISP.

This made sense to Teresa, who was finding less and less
enthusiasm among donors for a traditional Internet project.
Officials from USAID's Office of Transitional Initiatives
(OTI) said they were more interested in supporting the local
media. They also advised wiring up international NGOs before
the Prishtina University if the aim was to attract donors.

Paul and Teresa decided that if they were successful in
getting the use of the Stenkovac dish, they would offer
Internet access to international NGOs for a charge, and free
to Kosovar groups. The income from the first could pay for
the second, and also give the project a fighting chance of
staying afloat after initial funding stopped. They decided
on a six-month fee of $6,000 for a 64-kilobyte connection
and more for extra bandwidth.

Paul unveiled the idea at a meeting, and 14 NGOs signed up
on the spot. He then sounded out the IRC and was promised a
loan of $175,000, to be repaid by the end of the year.
Teresa then started to identify the non-paying customers,
such as the University, hospital, National Library, and
independent media.

The project was coming together. But it depended squarely on
use of the satellite dish and satellite. Paul went to work
on Interpacket, the owner. The only other proposal on the
table came from the International Organisation of Migration
(IOM), which had taken over use of the dish and satellite in
the refugee camp at the request of the US Information Agency
(USIA). The IOM proposed to use its ($1.5 million) grant
from the US to set up seven dishes around Kosovo, all linked
to the satellite. These in turn would service seven
information centers.

It was left to Interpacket to chose between the two ideas.
Paul argued that the IPKO model would benefit far more users
in Kosovo than the IOM's, at much less cost. Interpacket
agreed. At one fell swoop, Paul had won the IPKO a $50,000
dish and 12 months of free satellite time, valued at
$912,000. Internet Project Kosovo (IPKO.org) -- a
connectivity project supported by the IRC -- was born, with
Teresa as a consultant. The pieces were in place. It now
remained to put them together. This would involve securing
permission from the UN Mission in Kosovo (which was
administering Kosovo); finding a site for the project;
installing the dish; finding the frequencies; putting in the
equipment; finding a network administrator; and securing the
money.

- The Technical Plan

Most subscribers who are reading this issue of On the Record
will have logged onto to the Internet by commanding their
computer to dial up a service provider.

The method envisaged by the IPKO in Kosovo was different. It
would bypass Prishtina's creaky phone system altogether,
allowing subscribers to log onto the Internet through the
airwaves.

All of the initial customers would be institutions/agencies.
Each would have a microwave dish installed in its building,
providing a constant Internet connection to every computer
on their network. The microwave dishes would be pointed at
an antenna on top of the Rilindja, the tallest building in
Prishtina. These dishes would exchange a wireless signal
with the antenna, which would be connected to the
Interpacket satellite dish. The dish would link to the Pan
Am satellite and, from there, to the US Internet backbone.

As part of their donation, Interpacket also gave the IPKO a
pipe to the Internet backbone in the United States. This
donation of bandwidth is worth over 800,000 US dollars per
year. The bigger the bandwidth, the more data that can flow
and the more people who can access it concurrently. Data
includes email, pictures, voice, audio and video streaming,
and multimedia. The connection allows for a total of two
megabits of information to be sent out, and four megabits to
be received per second. The bandwidth is separated into
uplink and downlink. The two megabits for the uplink is more
than enough to handle all of the computers, that are
currently in use in Kosovo.

The first task would be to move the dish from Macedonia to
Kosovo. One of the companies working in Kosovo, Darlington,
had installed communications equipment in the US government
offices and had experience in setting up satellite dishes in
strange places (Including the Pyramid building in Tirana,
Albania.)

Darlington seemed a logical partner, and Paul put the
Darlington offices in Virginia in direct contact with
Interpacket since Interpacket would also pay for the
installation of the dish. All Darlington needed was the
go-ahead from Paul to go to Macedonia, break down the dish
and transport it to Prishtina, where it would be installed
and coordinated with the Pan Am Satellite.

The IPKO would need to install a microwave network of
antennas, repeaters, and microwave dishes around Prishtina.
IOM had planned to use a company in Macedonia to develop
their Internet work, and at first the IPKO thought they
would use the same company.

On closer inspection, however, the company was found not to
possess important software that would prevent each of the
microwave stations from receiving the full two megabit
bandwidth -- something which would slow down the system and
also make it harder to identify problems. More troubling
still, the Macedonian company refused to provide the
technical specifications of its equipment while constantly
insisting they would "provide a good solution." The group
grew increasingly suspicious and decided to look elsewhere
for the microwave equipment.

On advice from Ilir Zenku, a friend from Soros Albania, Paul
decided to approach MicroTik, a company based in Riga,
Latvia. MicroTik had all of the necessary equipment,
including software that would allow the network
administrator to regulate bandwidth, depending on need and
usage. This equipment had also been used successfully by the

Soros foundation in a number of Eastern European countries.

The MicroTik president, John Tully, was even willing to
donate equipment and come to Kosovo at short notice to set
it up. His equipment would be easy for an experienced
technician to handle, although it would need consistent
electricity and a secure location. At the time, neither
seemed likely to pose a problem.

With the technical plans more or less clear, the next task
was to find a network administrator. The best candidate
seemed to be Akan Ismaili, a Kosovar Albanian who had worked
for the US Information Service (USIS) before, during and
after the refugee crisis. In early discussions at the USIS,
Paul had been told jokingly not to "steal" Akan. There was
something to it. Akan was coveted by USIS. He was
experienced, resourceful, and able to work in adverse
conditions. His English was good and he was very committed.
He was the perfect candidate for the job of IPKO network
administrator.

Several other candidates were considered. Some lacked
experience, or had prior commitments to other jobs. Several
wanted to work for profit. Many were reluctant to make a
commitment to a project that had not yet received the
go-ahead from the Kosovar authorities. Akan was clearly the
best suited, and Paul approached him. After a week of
indecision, Akan signed on, and tendered his resignation to
the USIS.

At this point, the project ran into a political roadblock.

- Rebuilding the Kosovo PTT

The directors of UNMIK faced some tough decisions over
telecommunications.

UNMIK itself needed a quick, reliable, and modestly-priced
way of communicating with UN headquarters in New York. It
could have set up an independent satellite connection. But
that would have cost a huge amount and done nothing to
strengthen UNMIK's many partners and dependents. This
growing army of aid officials in Kosovo desperately needed
email. How to provide it?

A second dilemma facing UNMIK was how to reconstitute the
telephone system. The pre-war system had run through
Belgrade, and rebuilding it would mean placing Kosovo's
telephone system once again under the control of Belgrade.
This would very likely be unacceptable to the Kosovars and
most of the UN Security Council.

But the other option -- establishing an independent
telecommunications system that bypassed Serbia altogether --
would be tantamount to a declaration of independence. It
probably could be done: a new system of fiberoptics was
being laid from Albania. But that was months, if not years,
away.

There was, in addition, an issue of foreign ownership.
Kosovo's PTT had been 51% owned by the Serbian government.
The other 49% was owned by Greek and Italian companies, but
some Kosovars challenged the way that Serbia had sold off
this valuable national asset.

This hot potato was handed to Rob Van Leeuwen, a veteran
UNHCR official who was lured away from Seattle, Washington
by the UN to administer the key Kosovo utilities of gas,
electricity, and telecommunications.

Van Leeuwen decided that the first priority was to
reestablish Kosovo's defunct PTT, and then move from there.
At his recommendation, UNMIK took over the 51% Serbian share
in the Kosovo PTT on August 2, and renamed it the Post and
Telecommunications Kosovo (PTK).

The old PTT building was reopened, and 400 former PTT
employees were rehired under the direction of Ismet Hamiti.
Hamiti had been director of operations at the Kosovo PTT
until he was fired by the Serbs in 1989. After his
dismissal, he had left Kosovo to work with the International
Telecommunications Union (ITU) in Bangkok, Thailand. His
re-entry into the PTT building in the summer of 1999 was
seen as a huge victory over Belgrade.

The once and future employees were waiting at the gates.
They were allowed in under the watchful eye of KFOR soldiers
after being individually identified by Hamiti. Several
prominent Kosovars were appointed to a joint coordination
team, which was given the task of managing the new PTK.

The PTK had been inaugurated by UNMIK, and Hamiti was its
new director. He was now the main legal authority for all
matters pertaining to telecommunications. Paul set out to
secure his blessing for the IPKO Internet project.

- On the Brink of Collapse

When Paul first met with Ismet Hamiti, Kosovo's new
telecommunications czar, he received the cold shoulder.
Hamiti was aware of the importance of the Internet, and he
wanted any Internet initiatives firmly under his control at
the PTK. Otherwise, he implied, there would be a free for
all. He told Paul that the project would fit nicely as the
Internet division of the PTK.

Hamiti was an influential figure in post-war Kosovo, and few
were prepared to openly oppose him. This extended to the
university. Teresa and Paul had always assumed that the
university would serve as the hub of their network. Its
staff and students could provide support for the project.
Several professors hoped that an Internet link would also
allow the university to undertake its own technology
projects, including an oral history project on the web about
the refugee exodus.

But housing the IPKO at the university would mean
challenging Ismet Hamiti. Ilir Limani, the dean of the
electrotechnical faculty, asked his colleagues whether they
wanted this, and most said no.

After many days of trying to find a solution around the
university, Paul and Teresa concluded that it simply would
not work. This was a serious blow to their hopes of engaging
Kosovars in the early stages of their project and of
ensuring that it did not operate in isolation from the local
population. They had also hoped that the university would
inherit the project after the initial period of funding.
This now seemed impossible.

There seemed to be three possibilities. First, the project
could be housed at the PTK building and run by the PTK. This
was the solution strongly favored by Van Leeuwen and UNMIK.
They had just established PTK and wanted to find ways to
strengthen their new creation.

But in the view of Paul and Teresa, this would be the kiss
of death. PTK lacked the technical capacity to carry it off.
Hamiti planned to set up an Internet division in the PTK,
but his technicians were unfamiliar with the latest
technology after their years of limited opportunities. This
was not a criticism, so much as a fact: they were
hard-pressed even to run what remained of the existing
telephone system. Moreover, none of the handful of young
Kosovar "techies" were willing to work under the aegis of
the PTK. Possessed of the most marketable skills in town,
they weren't about to join an old-style bureaucracy.

The second option would be to go it alone, without the
support from the Kosovars they had come to help. In addition
to being undesirable, it was not even clear whether this was
possible.

Third, Paul and Teresa could call it a day and give up.
That, too, seemed unthinkable. They had come so far, and
made so many promises.

In desperation, Paul met with Hamiti, Van Leeuwen, and a
KFOR Colonel for one last try at gaining permission for an
independent IPKO. He was supposed to have been joined by two
local friends of the IPKO project. Neither showed up for the
meeting. The IPKO was on the brink. Teresa remembers how she
and Paul sat in the Amadeus cafÄ in Prishtina, looked at
each other, and wondered what they were going to do. They
were in far to deep to pull out, but could not see how they
could make it work.

- Rescued by UNMIK

Help arrived in the form of two IRC board members who were
visiting Kosovo to look at IRC projects. Two of the mission
members -- lawyers Jeremy Carver and George Hritz -- had
been involved with the IPKO from the beginning, and were
ready to argue strongly for it.

First Jeremy, George, and Paul went to see Van Leeuwen.
Though clearly irritated, he patiently explained the need to
boost up the PTK and implored IPKO to come to some kind of
agreement.

At Van Leeuwen's suggestion, the three went to visit Agron
Dida, the director of the PTK who worked under Hamiti. Dida
was cordial, but he evidently shared Hamiti's view that the
airspace was the property of Kosovo and only the PTK was
legally entitled to exploit it. The project would have to
fall under his domain. Otherwise, it would be viewed as a
violation of Kosovo's natural rights.

The three IRC officials left the meeting firmly convinced
that locating the project at PTK would be a disaster, even
if they were assured of independence under a contract. After
all, what good was a paper contract in a lawless country,
especially when those in the PTK building could just turn
off the power to the whole system?

The project received a helping hand from an unexpected
source. Around this time, the creaky telephone system
collapsed, the mobile network failed, and the phone lines
starting with the number 5 stopped working for two days. It
was clear that the PTK lacked the capacity to take on a
major new Internet project -- another strong argument for
allowing IPKO to proceed.

Paul and Teresa decided to approach the UN's office of
humanitarian affairs (OCHA), which had set up a unit to
coordinate the work of NGOs in Kosovo. The director of the
unit, Randolf Kent, understood that helping NGOs to
communicate would help the overall peacebuilding and had
supported IPKO from the beginning. Kent suggested to Paul
and Teresa that they approach Dennis McNamara, head of
UNMIK's humanitarian arm. McNamara agreed to support the
IPKO. He contacted Jack Covey, the UNMIK deputy special
representative, and argued that the IPKO was good for the
humanitarian community and would directly benefit the
Kosovars.

With momentum for the project now beginning to build again,
Paul, Jeremy, and George huddled together and wrote up a
short Memorandum of Understanding between IRC and UNMIK.
Late on a Saturday afternoon, they camped out in a cafÄ
across the street from UNMIK waiting to intercept Van
Leeuwen before he left for home. They finally caught up with
Van Leeuwen and convinced him to sign the MOU over a few
warm cans of Coke. After signing the document, Van Leeuwen
told the three that he would certainly catch heat for it.

One of the concerns, clearly, was monopoly. UNMIK's
agreement gave IPKO a headstart in providing Internet access

to Kosovo. Was it also handing over a monopoly? Strictly
speaking no. One other Internet provider in Kosovo, Fastnet,
had opened an Internet cafe. Fastnet had asked UNMIK if they
needed a license to operate, and been told no. KFOR gave
Fastnet a frequency license for their satellite, and it
began advertising microwave links.

So in a formal sense, there was competition for the IPKO.
But the case could be made that this was hardly relevant at
such an early stage in Kosovo's reconstruction. As noted
above, a commercial scramble over the Internet in July would
have benefited those with money, and put the Internet beyond
the means of the smaller, less affluent civic associations.
It would also have greatly reduced its humanitarian
usefulness.

On the other hand, UNMIK had now given the IPKO a formidable
role in dictating the future use of the Internet in Kosovo
after the emergency had passed. The question was whether the
IPKO would use this power responsibly. Would it be able to
hand over to Kosovars in a way that benefited all of Kosovo
-- and prevent this humanitarian initiative turning into a
real commercial monopoly?

- Finding a New Home

UNMIK authorized the IPKO on two conditions. First, it would
have to be "humanitarian" -- in other words, it could not be
used for profit. IPKO would be selling its service, but as a
contribution to the humanitarian effort.

Second, it would need a "neutral" base. This would rule out
the new PTK. Unfortunately, it would also rule out the
university, because the PTK made it clear that it would
oppose the university being handed such a powerful resource.
At this stage, it was very hard to identify a Kosovar home
for the Project that did not strike someone as biased.

As a result, it was decided to base the project and the
satellite dish in the Boro and Ramizi Sports and Cultural
Center, a large squat building in the center of town.

Boro and Ramizi turned out to be ideal for several reasons.
The building was inhabited by the Civilian and Military
Information Center (CIMIC), which was set up by British KFOR
to provide information for local Kosovars, and the KFOR
Press Center. This meant that soldiers were all over the
Center day and night, which guaranteed security for the
equipment.

There were added advantages. Boro and Ramizi were
administered by Lt. Colonel Barry Barnwell, who also headed
CIMIC. Barnwell was technologically savvy and understood the
importance of an Internet connection for CIMIC. He agreed to
forego rent ($1,800 a month) in exchange for the service.

In addition, British aid was paying for the reconstruction
of Boro and Ramizi Center. This meant that it was swarming
with contractors fixing electrical wiring, broken locks and
windows. British soldiers from the 26 Armoured Engineer
Squadron were also on hand working on electricity, plumbing,
and the back-up generator for the Center. Their expertise
would come in useful.

In spite of these advantages, the center did carry
drawbacks. It was some distance from the University,
especially the Technical Faculty. This meant there was even
less incentive for students and faculty to come and work on
the project.

The only space available at Boro and Ramizi was in a former
branch of the city Library. In exchange, the project had to
agree to find money for the librarian to renovate the
library and buy new books. There was some initial
misunderstanding because the librarian thought he would
eventually inherit the project. After this was ironed out,
the IPKO and library submitted a plan to British aid for the
refurbishing of the library.

Access to the building seemed likely to pose some problems.
Providing Internet access is not a nine-to-five job. All
employees of IPKO have to have 24-hour-a-day access to the
building and office, and this means they interrupt the lives
of the soldiers who call the building home and sleep
downstairs. The soldiers advised the IPKO staff to let them
know when they were planning to work late, if they did not
want to be challenged by sleepy, gun-wielding soldiers. It
was a reminder that this was still a war zone.

- Power Play

With the location now decided, Darlington was given the
go-ahead to install the 3.8-meter dish from Interpacket.
Over a 3-day period they disassembled the dish in Stenkovac,
transported it to Prishtina, stored it overnight, and
reappeared in the parking lot of the Boro and Ramizi Center
with it hanging from UNMIK crane. The dish looked huge.

Once it was installed, the team made an appointment with the
satellite company to test the connection. It was night-time
in Prishtina. Akan, Paul, Teresa, and a new international
arrival from Chicago, Kay, were waiting in the office in
high excitement. A Darlington employee was tuning the
satellite equipment on the roof.

The plan was to hook up with the Pan Am satellite. According
to the equipment of the Darlington engineers, they could
"see" the Pan Am satellite on their equipment. But Pan Am
Sat did not receive the signal transmitted from the IPKO
dish. In other words, it did not "know" that they were
transmitting. The team waited until one o'clock in the
morning before going off to sleep, deflated and
disappointed.

The following morning, the Darlington technicians went
through their checklist and narrowed the problem down to the
receiver on the back of the dish. It was receiving but not
transmitting. The receiver was sent back to the US, and a
replacement arrived within a week. It was fitted to the dish
and the team went through the same exercise again -- with
exactly the same disappointing result -- the Pan Am
satellite still could not see the IPKO signal.

By now everyone was tired and frustrated, and the timetable
was beginning to slip. The project would not make its first
connection on September 1st, as hoped. Clients were becoming
edgy. Interpacket was reluctant to send another receiver if
it was just going to be blown up.

If the problem was not the receiver, it had to be the power.
This surprised no one because the entire province was
dependent on two power plants that had been poorly
maintained and damaged in the war. Instead of producing
consistent power, they were sending out surges of voltage.
Everyone assumed that this was frying the receiver. After
consulting with engineers and electricians, IPKO bought a
generator with an automatic switch, which was activated by a
power outage or change in the voltage. As added protection,
the team bought several UPS's (Uninterrupted Power
Source's). These are basically big batteries with built in
protection against power surges.

As a final precaution, the room with the equipment was wired
separately from the rest of the building. This would mean
that in the event of a power failure, the project generator
would only give power to the project equipment and not to
the entire Boro and Ramizi building.

After more problems with the electricity (including shorting
out several light fixtures and several sockets) IPKO asked
British Royal Engineers from the 26 Armoured Engineer
Squadron to wire up the entire set. The Engineers had
befriended the project, and jokingly suggested that they
wanted to see it work so they could get football scores off
the web.

Taffy Gill, one of the engineers, came and tore out all the
wiring, which he then redid. But even after that the
generator did not give out the right amount of voltage. Akan
fashioned two 25-meter power cables to plug directly into
the generator and plugged the UPS (Uninterrupted Power
Supply) directly into the generator. This seemed to solve
the problem. Finally, after so many fits and starts,
Darlington was ready to try again.

- Online at Last!

>From Teresa's diary:

     After a month of false starts, September 20, 1999 did
     not seem all that special. We were huddled in the
     office, prepared for another sleepless night.
     Darlington technicians were on the roof, positioning
     for the satellite. One of them, Chris, was fiddling
     with the transmitter. All he could say was "they don't
     see us!" In other words, Pan Am Sat, the satellite
     company, could not tell if we were transmitting or not.
     We have been hearing the same thing from them and from
     Chris for over a month.

     Akan was getting fidgety. Like any good technology buff
     he began fiddling with a computer. He randomly typed
     "www.ipko.org" (our nascent web site address) into the
     web browser on the server. For some reason the browser
     sent him to "www.register.org." There then appeared the
     following query: "Do you want to register this domain
     name?" This should not have happened since our computer
     was not actually connected to the Internet -- or so the
     satellite company had been telling us. Perhaps, it had
     been telling us wrong?

     Akan let out a whoop. He then typed in "www.cnn.com"
     and the page appeared with the date September 20, 1999
     at the top. We were transmitting and receiving! Our
     satellite dish had locked onto the Pan Am satellite,
     although the Pan Am Sat could not "see" us because of
     some default on the transmitter. It appeared that the
     system had been up and running all along: the satellite
     company had not been looking at the right frequency.
     Talk about accidental birth.

     I was sent out for champagne, while Paul and Kay
     emailed their mothers. Akan's first email went to his
     ex-boss, Michael McClellan, former director of USIS
     Prishtina. The first thing I did was email The Advocacy
     Project, which has been harassing me for being out of
     touch for over a week. I then spent two hours on
     Instant Messenger, with three friends from the US, who
     were all logged onto the Internet. I felt like a
     teenager all over again.

     We soon sobered down. What exactly were we celebrating
     -- the fact that the four of us could check our email?
     The real celebrations could come when the people of
     Prishtina could connect.

     And there was such a long way to go before that could
     happen. There was no dial-up access for those with
     telephones. We did not even have a policy for deciding
     who could surf the web on our two laptops. Hours and

     hours of work were leading to hours and hours of more
     work. (September 20, 1999)

======================================================================
                              CORRECTION
======================================================================

     From Mentor Cana, editor of Alb-net.com:

     Please note that the following text in "OTR Civil
     Society in Kosovo, Issue 9" is not correct:

     "Certainly, with an acknowledgment like that from the
     US government, it was easier for Alb-net.com to get a
     donation from the Kosovar Albanian Government in exile
     to buy new computer equipment and expand their work."

     The fact is that the financial support for the computer
     came from the Albanian community in America. I will
     appreciate if you can make this correction in the next
     issue.

     Thanks, Mentor