By Matthew Price
Much has changed
there since NATO launched its bombing campaign to halt Serb repression
of Kosovo's ethnic Albanian majority - under the rule of the former
Yugoslav leader Slobodan Milosevic.
None more so perhaps than the province's monks and nuns.
It is six o'clock in the morning when I meet up with the nuns of Pec.
The temperature is near freezing, and the nuns are off to church - with an armed guard.
Nine nuns with seven soldiers from the international peace-force, ride in a convoy of army vehicles staffed by NATO soldiers.
Kosovo's monks and nuns say this is the only safe way for them to travel around the province.
Most of their fellow Serbs agree it is not safe for them to travel around on their own.
An hour-and-a-half later we arrive at an army checkpoint. In Kosovo, even nuns need to be checked.
Sister Anastasija has no doubt of the importance of the security operation to her, and her order: "We can only move around with their help. Otherwise we would be totally isolated. And not just us, but all the other monasteries in Kosovo. We're almost under siege. We'd be in a sort of prison if it weren't for them."
Security is certainly tight at Kosovo's monasteries, and Decani is typical.
This is one of the most important religious sites for Orthodox Serbs. The Serbian Church was founded in Kosovo more than 700 years ago.
Inside, the fountain flows peacefully - as it has for centuries. The same cannot be said about Decani.
Twice in the past it has come under mortar attack. More recently two nearby churches were targeted.
The attacks were blamed on a minority of Kosovo's ethnic Albanians.
Albanians here were repressed by the Milosevic regime. When Serb forces - under international pressure - withdrew three years ago, ethnic Albanians started a wave of revenge attacks against Serbs.
Many Albanians accuse the Orthodox church of fanning the Serb nationalism that brought Milosevic to power.
And along with their wish for an independent Kosovo, some want the church, a focus for the Serb community, to leave.
Father Sava, who is in charge of Decani, says the criticism leveled at the church is unfair:
"I must admit that Albanians suffered a lot, but this monastery and this church took a very strong position against Milosevic's policy, and extreme nationalism no matter from what side it came.
"In this monastery we sheltered 200 Albanians during the bombing period and organized humanitarian aid, which is something which even Albanians now recognize, though they are not ready to do anything for us now, when they are in a position to help."
In the monastery's workshop they make religious icons. But few Serb tourists come here these days - the icons are sold to the peacekeepers.
One of the monks, Arsenije, underlines why he and his fellow monks feel it vital to maintain their age-old customs: "Since this was the tradition of the Serbian land it is very important for us. Since we can hardly call this Serbia today. But we are here and I guess we are not going to go anywhere."
"And this is a way of showing that the traditions of the Serbian church are still alive?" I ask. "Yes, that is the point."
The sense of fear among the few Serbs still in Kosovo is genuine.
They are being told they cannot hide behind their protectors for ever, and that some day both sides have to learn to trust each other.