Kindergarten Flight Instructor

Picture an old geezer from Idaho with 50 Albanian six year olds jumping up and down, flapping their arms. This was followed by a lively discussion about why birds can fly and people can’t. Then we took turns demonstrating the Bernoulli principle by blowing across the top of a curved piece of paper. Then a melee of tossing paper airplanes as they flight tested about a dozen different plane and helicopter designs. We ended the lesson with spirited singing of “Old McDonald Had a Farm” (I suppose I could have kept up the aviation theme by singing “Old McDonald Bought the Farm”- but that might have been a bit too advanced). Witness the Peace Corps in action.

I was invited by the librarian at the American Library to speak about airplanes to her son’s kindergarten class. This was in shqip so my audience and I shared about the same language level. It was a lot more fun than some of my recent high school life skills classes. Lately some of the kids have flaked off and were not ready to present, despite the fact that they have had months to prepare their topic and the schedule has long been posted on the board outside the classrooms.

“Teacher, we are not ready and want to go later. What should we do?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?”

“We want to present on another day?”

“OK, what day do you want? Look at the schedule.”

“Teacher, there are no more days open.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Teacher, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. It is your responsibility to present your topic. Remember, the majority of you grade is based on your presentation.”

I know it is perplexing for them, but responsibility is an important life skill. It is better to be introduced to this in class than on the job, later in life, when it can cost you a real opportunity in life by loss of a job or putting you first on the layoff list. Of course, if they have the job by virtue of family or other connections, the lesson is probably irrelevant. Albania is changing, however, so who knows? Anyway, I am old, I am retired, I am a volunteer, I am only here for a couple of years. It is not really my problem.

“Let me know what you decide to do?”

I had a couple of visitors this past weekend. One was a Group 11 volunteer from Peshkopi and the other, her friend, a recent Harvard graduate on a study grant in Tirana to learn about landscape change in Albania (his monthly stipend is substantially more than the Peace Corps, which makes me feel better about the worth of some of my activities). They are very nice kids. They wanted to ski at Bigell. They had a grand time with Maca, Isuf, Kristof, Fredi and Comisari who, of course, treated them like family. It is so hard to be an American in Albania. It was a glorious spring day. If you want to see their photos and a video clip check out www.flickr.com/photos/garrettnelson

On Monday, which was the holiday, “Sultan Nevruz”, we walked to the cross on the mountain behind Korca. It was my first morning constitutional since the cold, bad weather and darkness called a halt to this activity in November. There were many walkers out and I was warmly greeted by the regulars as we recognized each other. It was a bit hazy in the valley, but sunny and temperate. I even had to take my coat off. The view of the snow covered mountains around the valley was spectacular.

In the afternoon, my guests departed and I had dinner with a neighbor family who had invited me for the traditional feast. This is a Bektashi holiday which celebrates both spring and New Year’s Day (“nevruz” means “new year”). We have now had three different holidays to celebrate spring. Given the damp, cold and dark of the winter, this seems appropriate.

The meal was great. It consisted of short ribs of beef, salad, fried potatoes, yoghurt, olives, hard boiled eggs, dark bread, spice cake with syrup for dessert, and Turkish coffee. Since I don’t drink alcohol, I had fruit juice with the kids instead of the offered wine with the adults. This was served as we sat around the table in their small, one-room combination kitchen, living room, bedroom. It was prepared on their wood stove, which also is the only source of heat in their home. They cook all their meals on it except in the summer when they use a wood grill outside their front door. The mother is a fabulous cook, by the way. I have strongly advised their daughter, who is one of my best students, to forget what I am teaching and learn from her mother. Interestingly, although not at all unusual for Albanian cities, their modest home does have both a television and internet access.

Last week, I was in Tirana for another meeting at the Ministry of Health. I went at the request of the PC country director of health volunteers. She thought that with my experience I might be useful helping with some of the national programs based in Tirana. I talked briefly with one of the higher ups in the ministry. His large office was up several flights of stairs in a modern building. It was nicely appointed with an exquisite, dark, solid wood desk, a leather couch and a big screen TV. He was cordial, but did not seem at all interested in anything I might have to offer. He encouraged me to keep up my activities in the region around Korca. This is fine with me. I doubt if I could ever get him to flap his arms.

Dita e Veres

March first was “Dita e Veres” or “Summer’s Day”. This is celebrated by Orthodox in Albania as the first day of spring. Bonfires are lit. People eat “kulace” (special sweet bread with raisins) and generally have a good time. This should not be confused with “Dita e Veres” which is celebrated by the Muslims on the fourteenth of March. This also involves a special treat, “ballokume” (a cookie made with corn meal). Apparently, this year, only the fourteenth is recognized by the government of Albania as the official “Dita e Veres”. This seems to have ticked off some of my Orthodox friends who passed around pieces of kulace in a conspiratorial manner. No doubt I will get ballokume from my Muslim friends next week. I will have to eat several of each to fairly judge the battle of the bakeries. I asked my Catholic friends if they wanted to enter the competition, but they only replied something about daffodils and the vernal equinox.

I don’t really understand why the first day of spring is called summer’s day. I will add that to my list of cultural confusions. The sun did come out and the temperature neared 60 for a day. My laundry finally dried and I aired out my long johns in the warm breeze. The next day clouds blew back in, it started to rain again and the temperature dropped 20 degrees. It will be interesting to see what the weather does in two weeks.

Speaking of cultural confusion, the Peace Corps, Albania, office in Tirana asked me to write an introduction to Albanian culture for the new group of volunteers. I am not sure why they picked me as I can think of many in my group who would surely do it better. However, I figure that saying no when asked to do something is not really in the spirit of being a volunteer.

I wrote a long treatise on Albanian history and how it affected Albanian culture. Maybe my age leads me to take the long view. If any of my friends have a burning interest in the topic, let me know and I’ll pass it along.

In addition to Summer’s Day, early March has International Women’s Day on the 8th. This is celebrated as Mother’s Day in much of the world, including Albania. The traditional gift is a sprig of yellow flowers and green leaves from the mimosa tree. I think they are a bit allergenic, since several volunteers, including me, have noticed a flare in hay fever symptoms.

March 8th this year, by coincidence, is also the centennial of the issuance of the first pilot’s certificate to a woman. In France in 1910, Raymonde de Laroche was taught to fly by Voisin and became only the 36th licensed pilot in the world. Pilots in the US are being asked to give rides to young girls who are interested in flying as an appropriate way to commemorate this event. I only wish I had a plane here so I could participate. I am forbidden by Peace Corps regulations to operate a motorized vehicle within the country of service. However, according to Webster, vehicles are only found on land and in space. Aircraft are not vehicles. I could argue that I don't need special permission, but it is a moot point, in any event, since I don’t have access to an airplane, I would have to clear the trash, cows and sheep off the airstrip outside of Korca, and I am now more than a year since my last flight as PIC, so I am not current.

I am limited, like the others in the Aviation Interest Club of Korca, to making balsa wood and paper airplanes to fly in the large lobby of the library and playing with Flight Simulator on the computer. The girls in the group made a poster for the centennial of the woman pilot and put it up on the wall outside the American Library. The sign is in shqip and maybe it will bring in some additional members. As far as I have been able to find out, there has never been an Albanian woman pilot. One of the girls in the group is eager to be the first. Maybe she will. It seems only right, since the name of the country (Shqiperia), the language (Shqip) and the people (Shqiptare) derive from the word for eagle (shqiponje). Albanians are the “people of the eagle”, so should be good pilots.

I am looking forward to the arrival of the new group of volunteers. It will mark my first year in Albania and seems a milestone. A year in Albania sounds like a sentence, yet it has not been. I feel like I have been of some use and there are still things in development. That I am not entirely sure what will happen or exactly what I will do over the next 15 months actually makes things more interesting. I have been asked by the program staff to give a couple of classes in Elbasan during pre-service training. This is more likely because it is pretty easy and inexpensive for me to get to Elbasan than for any other reason. I wish the new volunteers good luck.