Separation and Loss

The gjyshe (grandmother) who lives with my host family went to Tirana last week for thyroid surgery. She has diabetes, hypertension, leg edema and a thyroid problem of some sort. Both parents went along and were gone for a few days. It was just the 3 guys in the house and we fared ok with some help from several female extended family members that live nearby.

I don’t think Albanians like to be alone, at least not this family.
Since so many work abroad, it must be especially difficult. My family has relatives working in Italy and Greece, the most common destinations. There is always a big party when they visit, which they can do freely as there are guest worker programs in most European countries. Most seem to be anxious to return home and use their savings to finance marriage and build a house near their families.

The father in my family is fortunate to have work in Albania, but lately he is working in a town that is commute and he cannot get back home until 10 pm. They feed me earlier, by myself, so I can get enough sleep for my delicate American constitution. The mother apologized profusely that I was eating alone, as the whole family, including the teens, wait for Dad to return for dinner.

Grandma is recuperating in the parent’s downstairs bedroom. They have moved the TV and two couches in there. I think the parents are sleeping on the couches. They bought a gas space heater which I think set them back a bit since the meals lately have been heavy on the starches and fruit and salad have disappeared. I plan to buy some fruit to contribute to the larder the next time I have a chance to visit the market in Elbasan. The mini-mart in Thane doesn’t have much of a selection. I hope the space heater is approved for indoor use.

Since her return, the visitors have been numerous. They are all dressed up and sit for hours. They are served Turkish coffee, cookies and candies as is the custom. One can hardly say hello to someone in Albania without being asked to sit down and offered coffee and something to eat. I assume this is a further strain on the family finances.

I visit as well and sit for a while. That seems to be appreciated. I am not sure if it is appropriate for me to read while I visit, so I just sit quietly. Grandma mostly sleeps and can’t talk very well because of her surgery. My Albanian doesn’t yet provide me much ability for small talk. Visitors don’t seem to talk much, anyway. Yesterday, while I sat, the TV was showing a program on Nelson Mandela. He was being interviewed by dissidents from around the world who asked him for advice from his experience. He told one man from Burma, that the hardest thing about his years in prison was being separated from his family. He missed most the celebrations and missed funerals where he should have been present. The Burmese dissident also said that he longed to return home for his father’s funeral, but would risk certain imprisonment and probable torture. The camera showed him looking longingly at the bridge that led into Burma from his exile in Thailand.

Last night at 4 AM, I had my first phone call from the US. It was not good news. My 15 year old golden retriever, Casey, had blood in his abdomen from a splenic tumor which, according to the vet, was very likely cancer. I knew he had an abdominal mass, but didn’t expect him to succumb so soon. He had to be put down. I know my good friends, Kathy and Doug who took care of him after I left gave him a loving home and the last month of his life was happily spent playing with their Australian shepherd and digging in the field where Doug is building their new home in Emmett, Idaho. Casey would have liked living there, because they keep horses and there is nothing Casey enjoyed more than eating or rolling in manure. A true golden retriever. We will spread his ashes on the pasture at my home in McCall.

Casey was my good buddy and enthusiastic companion on so many outings. He jumped eagerly into the Cessna and slept next to my sleeping bag in the tent, warming me in the cold Idaho nights. He would lie on the bank while I would wade in the trout streams, or swim between by casts when I fished in a mountain lake. He had slowed a lot the past year and could no longer follow my tracks in the snow when I did Nordic skiing and the distance he could walk without tiring had substantially decreased. Even so, his appetite was good and his disposition was always as golden as his coat. Not being there for his end was a big thing for me to give up for Peace Corps service.

I realize that a dog is not a father and that choosing volunteer service is nothing like imprisonment, yet being in the third world, in a country where I do not speak the language or understand the culture very well is isolating, no matter how hard I study or how nice my host family. It is good that during the pre-service training period we are in small groups and being with a “class”- Peace Corps, Albania, Group 12- helps a lot. I hope I get a lot more skillful with my language and culture before I get posted, by myself, to my 2 year service site.

Nevertheless, I do get homesick, even at my age and even though I am pretty independent by nature. As I said before, I am blessed by the fact that, back home, I have many great friends and live in Idaho- people and a place that I love. Being away makes me appreciate them all the more. I think that is a sentiment I share with most Albanians.