`I FEEL SAFE HERE'; KOSOVARS SHOW GENERATION GAP OVER STAYING.

Byline: Phillip W. Browne Staff Writer

Four months ago, Lummije Vlashi fled Kosovo when Serbians ravaged her small town, executing ethnic Albanians. Now the 22-year-old spends mornings at Woodland Hills adult school, learning English and the ways of America.

Even with peace breaking out in her homeland, she wants to stay here.

``There is nothing left in Kosovo,'' Lummije said in English during a morning break at the Hughes Adult Learning Center. ``Everything is gone, and there are still troops. I want to stay. I want to learn. I want to work.''

In contrast, her 43-year-old uncle Ibrahim Vlashi is eager to go back, because he is ``homesick for my Kosovo.''

``It's easier for a young man to learn in America, and difficult for older men,'' the former concrete factory worker said, also in English. ``I have three children here and they all want to stay. We will stay some time and let them grow up some more, then we will decide if we all go or if they stay.''

These two views reflect the conflict - split mostly along generational lines - for the 33 Kosovar refugees who moved here during the Serbian conflict.

Even with their homes and town in shambles and stories of persistent unrest throughout Serbia, older members of the Vlashi family hope to follow the 300 New York refugees who left for Kosovo last week - the first to return since the NATO bombing campaign ended.

But many of the Vlashi youths would rather start life over in America. They have hopes of schooling, jobs, stability and, most important, living free of fear.

``This is where I want to stay,'' said 17-year-old Sevdije Vlashi. ``America will be good. I feel safe here.''

All Kosovar refugees have one year from their arrival date to decide whether they want the United States to repatriate them. The Vlashis have until May to decide whether to take the offer of a free flight to Kosovo, said Miriam Prum Hess, spokeswoman for the Valley Jewish Federation, which organized the Vlashi resettlement. After that, they must find their own way home.

If they choose to stay, the Vlashis can apply for citizenship after four years and nine months, Hess said.

The decision is not one to take lightly, and in some cases requires Solomonic wisdom, as families decide whether to split.

Hajrush Vlashi's parents, the family patriarch, Hisman, 59, and his wife, Shefije, 52, made the difficult decision to split up the family if they return home. Their youngest son, Ahmet, 10, will stay with his brother.

``They feel like he will be fine here,'' Hajrush Vlashi, a West Hills man who brought 33 of his family members to Los Angeles after the conflict escalated.

``Only one family so far - my cousin Shukuri - has for sure decided to stay,'' he said.

``Most of them know it will be difficult, that they will have to start over again, but the adults would like to be home instead of being a refugee in America,'' he said.

Village life destroyed

The Vlashi family came from the blue-collar town of Hani-Elezit, where a concrete factory was the major industry. Some were truck drivers, security guards or supervisors. Others were skilled craftsmen or professional musicians. The women were housewives.

Nearly five months ago, Serbs stormed into the town and planted land mines in the wooded area where the five brothers lived on the same block. On March 25, the army and Serb police began torching houses and killing ethnic Albanians. The Vlashis fled about three miles, across the Albanian border, to stay with a relative.

Those horrors made the decision to stay in the Valley easy for Shukuri Rexha, a cousin of the Vlashis.

``Our homes are destroyed. We have nothing to go back to,'' said Rexha, who brought his 21-year-old wife and 2-year-old son to the Valley along with his 14-year-old sister.

``There is hope here. We want to start over,'' he said.

Living in America

The Vlashi clan's stay in the Valley has been eye-opening, exposing the refugees to the difficulties of life in America as well as the warmth of the culture. The family members have moved into modest apartments in Chatsworth, Northridge and Culver City, with the help of generous landlords offering discounted rent.

They're learning to budget an average $1,400 monthly government assistance, which includes up to $500 per month in food stamps.

Many of the teen-agers already have mastered the Los Angeles bus system.

``A few of the kids know the buses better than I do,'' Hess said. ``It just amazes me. They are learning fast.''

Still, they have a long road ahead.

``They are not rich by any means. Everyone is doing their best to help get them training and jobs - to help them to become self-reliant,'' Hess said.

Training for jobs is a requirement for long-term temporary residency in United States, she said.

Ibrahim Vlashi said supporting his family of five is too difficult on $850 in government aide and $355 in food stamps.

``In Kosovo I could find a job and be able to support the family,'' said Ibrahim. ``Maybe I will find a job here and I will stay. I don't know.''

And finding jobs is a matter of time, their teacher said.

The refugees are making furious progress in their language skills. Two months ago many couldn't speak a word of English. Now they can hold conversations.

``It's amazing how fast they are learning, especially the younger ones,'' said their adult school English teacher, Liz Koenig-Golombek.

She said she could understand why the adults might want to return to Kosovo. They are learning slower than the younger generation, she said.

``The older ones are more set in their way of life. Kosovo is what they know,'' Koenig-Golombek said. ``It's much easier for a young man or woman to assimilate.''

HOW TO HELP

To donate money, send a check to the Jewish Federation/Valley Alliance, 22622 Vanowen St., West Hills, CA 91307. For more information, call [phone]. To donate furniture, clothing, toys and other items, call Maya Segal at the Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles at [phone].

CAPTION(S):

3 photos

Photo: (1 -- color) Sevdije Vlashi, 17, a Kosovar refugee, giggles while playing an English word game last week in her Woodland Hills ESL literacy class.

Charlotte Schmid-Maybach/Staff Photographer

(2 -- color) Kosovar refugees Lummije Vlashi, 22, right, her mom, Fatima Vlashi, center, and Ganimete Vlashi, at left, take notes in English.

(3 -- color) During class, teacher Liz Koenig-Golombek ask students the English words for objects like the dress she is holding up.

Charlotte Schmid-Maybach/Staff Photographer

Box: How to help (see text)