Balkan Winter

It was a bit of a shock getting back into the winter routine after nine days on the equator. Day after day of grey sky, cold, rain, snow, or sleet, with only the occasional peek at the sun and blue sky. I just about live in my expedition weight long underwear. It takes forever for clothes to dry and I am not about to go without them for as long as it would take to get them back into service after washing. I will probably personally add to the olfactory experience on a furgon by spring. I have also come to greatly appreciate my down sleeping bag that I bought in Gart’s basement in Denver more than 40 years ago for about $30. My dark green Eddie Bower Gore-Tex coat that I got as a very considerate present about 25 years ago is also serving me well.

Strong winter winds blow through the Korca valley. They suck the plastic sheeting out of the masking tape. Keeping the windows insulated is a continuing task. Ilky camps out by my door almost every night and tries to sneak in as I leave or enter. He still gets treats but no admittance. My electric heater is pitiably ineffective and, to make it worse, the electricity always seems to go out during the strongest, coldest storms. The gas heater is better, but I am not sure if it is really approved for inside use and I wonder about carbon monoxide exposure. I can always look on the bright side. Maybe my approaching senile dementia will be covered by workers comp.

Yesterday I went with the guys to Bigell. It was a relatively warm day, and it was raining hard even at altitude. The road was muddy. In spots, the old van just barely made it through. We set up for business and about 40 hardy Korcans showed up for recreation. Most hung out around the wood stove in the day lodge, smoking, drinking and eating. Except for the smoking part, it was a lot like a rainy day at Brundage or Bogus Basin. I have to admit, though, that the conversation I had with one man about the 20 years his father spent in prison for opposing the communist regime is not one I would have had in Idaho. A few hardy souls donned the ski suits (provided with the rental and lift in the all inclusive price) and did a few runs until they were completely soaked and came back in to dry out before hitting the slopes again. My Gore-Tex and fleece outfit let me stay out a bit longer, but eventually I was also soaked and had to go in. Just a couple of kids kept skiing until about 5 pm. They have a switch by the window in the lodge and when there are few skiers, the rope line is turned on only when a skier arrives for a tow.

Sunday morning was much colder and it was snowing hard in town. Titi, my neighbor and the father of one of the kids I tutor in English, invited me to go to the first soccer game of the New Year. We met up after lunch and walked briskly across town to the stadium. Titi, of course, insisted on treating. The scrum at the ticket booth was particularly vigorous and even if Titi had accepted my offer to treat I doubt that I could have purchased the tickets without serious injury. Titi is a veteran, however, and I was impressed with how, with hardly a scratch, he skillfully worked his way to the front of the gaggle, shoved his lek in the face of the attendant, and quickly returned with the tickets. We got into the next gaggle that led to the entrance gate where police took our tickets. A couple of kids asked if they could come in with us, since they are admitted free with a paying adult.

The field was a swamp and the players warming up splashed as they ran and were covered with mud. There was a pretty good crowd of a few thousand standing with umbrellas in the stone bleachers. It looked like a snow globe with the Alpine village diorama replaced by a soccer field. A few minutes after the game was supposed to start the teams went into the locker rooms, but, as the weather worsened, they did not come out again. After about half an hour the line judges came out to announce that the game had been cancelled. The crowd hurled invective and plastic water bottles at them. They all felt that the opposition team, from Elbasan in the lowlands, were a bunch of weenies and if they had played against another mountain city, like Bilisht, it would have gone on despite the weather. Of course, the language they used was a lot more colorful. There’s lots of opportunity to expand your shqip vocabulary at soccer games.

There are no rain-checks or refunds given at soccer games here. There is supposed to be a free make-up game tomorrow, but Monday is a working day and I doubt if I can attend. From the attitude of the fans, it seems, despite the large rate of unemployment, many others will be unable to make it.

As we walked home, the sun came out briefly, but then the snow started again. We stopped for coffee and Titi, after prolonged insistence and protest, even let me buy. This was a tremendous indication of acceptance and friendship. It felt like a major triumph. I can’t say when I enjoyed a coffee more.

In three weeks the next group of Peace Corps volunteers will arrive and begin their pre-service training in Elbasan. I have been told that 52 have accepted the invitation to serve in Albania. This is a big increase from the 33 initially in my group. I have been asked to do some of the sessions and also to host a couple of them for the volunteer visit in early April. I hope that it doesn’t conflict with Easter weekend since I will have a crowd here. That is a big holiday in Korca. There is a midnight, candlelight march from the cathedral that is supposed to be especially beautiful. This year Easter coincides on April 4 for Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant traditions (last year they were a week apart, which is more often the case). Perhaps that will cause it to be an even bigger event. I am looking forward to seeing it.

April is also when spring reliably comes to Albania. I am looking very much forward to that, as well.