Kultur in Korca

As I sat listening to a recent cello and piano concert in an upstairs art gallery at the “Cultural Palace” in Korca, it occurred to me how different my Peace Corps experience has been from what I expected. I could be living in a mud hut in Botswana or a yurt in Mongolia with only occasional opportunities to watch a native dance or listen to throat singers. Instead, even though Albania is the second poorest country in Europe, it is still in Europe with all the cultural traditions that implies. This is especially true for Korca, which prides itself on its music, art, folk traditions, and much more.

There is a moderate sized public building next to the library in central Korca that is called the Cultural Palace. It is named after Vangjush Mio, a celebrated Albanian artist who was from Korca. His home in the old part of town is now a museum. The Cultural Palace has several rooms on its two floors. Downstairs is a gallery for touring shows of paintings or sculpture. Upstairs is the salon used for recitals, usually classical European instrumental or vocal music. I have not found a reliable source for the schedule of events, so I make it a point to walk by it frequently and hope that banners about cultural events will be displayed on the front of the building before they actually occur, which is not always the case. During the past few months, there have been a piano duet and piano recital, photography from local students, a touring exhibit of art from Shkroder in northern Albania, and an exhibit of contemporary sculpture and paintings from local artists. There is a trombone and piano recital scheduled for tomorrow.

Performances usually start on time. A program is rarely provided. Frequently they are videotaped by the local TV station. The bright lights and roving camera men detract a bit from the experience. Sometimes they bump against the paintings hanging on the walls or their cell phones go off and they take the call. This is a bit annoying, but seems to bother mainly me and maybe a couple of others in the audience. At the end of a performance, invariably a couple of audience members, usually a small child or young woman, will carry bouquets of fresh flowers to the performers. They kiss the artists on both cheeks and the audience applauds. There are never encores. Often the musicians are faculty from the local music academy or recent alumni.

Across the street from the Cultural Palace is the Cajupi Theater. This is a performance hall that hosts touring theater or musical groups or local productions such as the recent high school reviews of singing and dancing, both modern and traditional, skits and even videos produced by the students. There were nights for each of the local high schools and then one night which was a compilation of the best from all the schools. I think there was a competition to be included in this although a winner was not announce and prizes were not awarded in public either during or after the show, although several performers did get their flowers.

Earlier in the year I went to a contemporary play at the Cajupi. It was a situation comedy by an Albanian playwright. I didn’t get all the dialogue, but was able to follow it pretty much. Before that, a touring musical review of apparently well known national popular singers performed. It reminded me of a Lawrence Welk show with an older couple singing romantic ballads to each other and another act consisting of a father and his five young daughters. One singer came out into the audience and the spot light was shown on a few of the attendees who broke into song, singing a verse of the, apparently, well known and beloved number in progress. Towards the end of the show, the head of the Orthodox Church in Korca came onstage to bless the performance and introduce a long haired, middle aged priest with a pony tail, who sang a popular song. For the finale, all the cast, including the priests, came onstage and sang a big number. Lights and streamers fluttered in the fans that blew at the rear of the stage. The volume, typically, was set to painful levels. I have to be more consistent in remembering to bring my ear plugs for protection.

Neither of these public venues is particularly well maintained. Plaster is falling off the walls and the ceilings are stained by leaks. There is not much heat in the winter and no air conditioning in the summer. The rows of chairs are not all bolted to the floor and are pushed tightly together. Some people, usually the camera men or, for the high school performances students in the balcony, smoked, although I am pretty sure smoking is prohibited. One of the high school numbers involved students dancing and singing while carrying lighted candelabras and I worried a bit what would happen in the crowded theater if the curtains or streamers caught on fire or a smoker dropped a lit cigarette on the wooden floor. Thankfully, there was not the opportunity to find out.

In the fall, there were exhibits at the museum housed in the building where the first school that taught in Albanian during the declining years of Ottoman rule. These were of photographs and paintings by a local artist. Before that, on a pleasant fall day, artisans demonstrated traditional crafts and displayed some of their wares in the courtyard in the courtyard. Across the street from this museum is a coffee shop that is in the house that belonged to Themistokli Germangji, who was the leader of the autonomous region of Korca between the world wars of the 20th century. They have a very pleasant outside garden and have a jazz band that plays intermittently during the summer.

The Museum of Medieval Art houses the icon collection in a communist era office building made out of a modified church. There are plans to restore the church and a new museum is under construction on one of the main boulevards. This is near the modern building that houses the Bratko Museum of Oriental Art. The name is misleading because it houses a fairly idiosyncratic collection of a son of Korca who made a career in Hollywood and decided to build a museum in his home town to house the art and artifacts he had amassed over his long career that included military service as a photographer in occupied Japan after WWII. I love museums like this that gives insight into the collector as well as the collection. There is one more museum, for archeology, that also serves as temporary housing and a lab for visiting archeologists who explore the many burial sites in the area that date form the Stone Age.

On the boulevard that runs between the cathedral and the university is a park dedicated to Germangji. There is a large bronze statue of him there and behind that a wooden gazebo where, on summer evenings, locals gather in a circle around a small band of accordion, clarinet, mandolin and violin, and sing traditional Korcan ballads. Often along the three main boulevards that attract scores of walkers in the evening as the weather improves, there are street musicians playing the clarinet or drums. Many of the beer gardens have live music on weekends and groups vary between traditional, Korcan music and rock. Since I live near Birra Korca, I often walk past them and listen in. Sometimes I go with friends, but since I don’t drink I don’t go alone and would awkward sitting for long.

Closer to the university is a large park where sculptures are displayed. There is an annual competition and somehow a few are selected each year to be added to the permanent collection in the park. This park has many well tended flower beds and is a favorite stroll for local families or couples during evenings when the weather allows.

The university hosts some cultural events. I went to a recent conference on Camus in the agricultural building. It was sponsored by the Aliance Francez and was in French and shqip. The room it was held in was fairly modern and not as noisy as usual. I was able to follow most of the lectures. The TV camera men roamed around during the presentations and a friend of mine later told me that my image was on the local news that night. Also, the university hosts the Korca Beer Festival in August. On the main street near the university are also many night clubs. I leave these to the younger volunteers.

In a week or two, there should be the Carnival. I have asked about it but have not been able to find out exactly when it is scheduled. I am pretty sure is will be happening soon since they have put up flags near the cathedral and I think there is the start of a stage. I am looking forward to seeing the parade with the traditional music and dancers. I wonder if the local Elvis impersonator will participate again, riding in a white convertible while he sings from the King’s repertoire, stopping occasionally to dance around the car. It would not surprise me if there are Elvis impersonators in every country where there are Peace Corps volunteers. I wonder how “Hound Dog” sounds when sung by a Mongolian throat singer.

May Day

The Peace Corps safety director for Albania sent out a general text message to the cell phones that volunteers are required to carry at all times. The opposition party had scheduled a big rally in Tirana for the day and the party in power had scheduled a huge counter protest for the next day. Volunteers are not allowed to go near anything political to avoid even an implied endorsement of one side or the other in the various political disputes. We were warned away for the weekend from going anywhere near Skanderbeg Square in the center of the city. The younger volunteers were planning a fund raiser party in Tirana this weekend for the cause of supporting Albanian youngsters to attend an environmental camp in Minnesota this summer. It is a good cause and I am happy to support it with a donation, but I am too old for beer and loud rock music parties. I planned to stay home in Korca and didn’t need the caution.

My pilot friends might think this is a distress call (things are fine, thanks), but May Day refers to May first which is Labor Day in most of the world and the big holiday under the communists. It is still a holiday here and many families plan picnics in the mountains or at nearby lakes. The weather was about as nice as you could want; sunny and 70 degrees with a light breeze. I awoke early, did my exercise routine and headed up the mountain towards the cross for the traditional Korca morning constitutional. There were lots of people hiking up the road, families and groups from teens to pensioners.

I stopped briefly at St. Theodur’s church, about halfway up. I said hello to the caretaker who is there every day about 5:30 AM. He has been doing a lot of work on the yard around the church, planting trees and fixing the stairs to the chapel. It is very small, but has some of my favorite icons. A lot of the regular morning walkers use it as their destination and pull the rope to ring the bell before heading back down to the city. I continued out the back gate, up the hill, past a spring where some people had already spread out their picnic. I walked along the road a bit, past a couple of large groups of teens, and then took a steep and rocky path that is a more direct route to the summit. It offers some nice views of the canyon that is to the south of the mountain. I decided to explore the opposite side and make my way down to the path along the stream and through the canyon back to Korca.

Beyond the cross, the path was not well marked. It was steep and rocky. On the plus side there was hardly any litter and the view was spectacular down to the stream and canyon below and up to the higher, snow covered mountains to the east. I carefully made my way through the rocks and trees and eventually found a path. I followed it down the mountain to the creek where I came upon a group of teenage boys swimming in the water. I walked down the creek, occasionally passing a few people on foot or horseback. The horses had the traditional wooden saddles that look uncomfortable to both wear and to ride. They are ridden side saddle by up to three riders. The horses, like the people here, work hard.

I came out of the canyon at the village of Mborje which is adjacent to my end of Korca. Even though the hike had taken several hours, I was not in a hurry so I decided to further explore along the road to the south. After a bit it took a bend in the wrong direction and then petered out. I didn’t want to back track and then noticed that a man with a load of wood on a small mule went off on a path in a better direction off the side of the road. I followed him.

Before long I caught up with him and he struck up a conversation. He asked me where I was from.

“America”, I said in my limited shqip.

“Do you speak Greek? Italian?” he offered as a way to facilitate our speaking.

“No, only English, Spanish and a little shqip”, I replied. Most Albanian are multi-lingual, but with languages that don’t usually help an American. Older, educated people speak some Russian or Chinese from the sequence of communist alliances, the aged often some French from past cultural ties particularly in Korca where there was a French school and there is still a French library, and the younger adults who have done migrant labor in Europe, usually Greek or Italian.

I told him I was looking for a path back to Korca and he told me to follow him. We walked along a fence and then across a field. We came at last to a group of houses and he invited me in for a drink. As I have mentioned before, this is the principle risk of hiking in Albania. Of course, I accepted.

His name was Nadir. We sat at a table in his yard among his flowering quince and apple trees and budding grape vines. I was introduced to his father, his mother, his wife and two year old daughter. He told me his five month old twins were inside. He had been born in Mborje and had built this house about 8 years ago with money he had earned in Greece working in farm labor and construction. It is a nice home. He has two cows in addition to his mule. He has some land a couple of kilometers away where he grows grain and hay to feed his animals. He recently bought a tractor and hires out with his machine to work for other farmers in the village. He said gasoline was so expensive it was hard to make much money at this enterprise. It has recently risen about 30% to about $1.50 a quart. He asked me how much gas was in the U.S. I told him it was about half what it cost in Albania. I didn’t tell him how much people complain about the high price of gas in America. We finished our Turkish coffee. He asked me if I liked it. I don’t mind it, it is like cowboy coffee back home, so I it was not so strange to me when I came Albania. I did tell him I usually drink what they call “filter coffee” or “American coffee”. I have a drip coffee pot, kindly left to me by another volunteer when she returned to the States. Nadir had never had that. I offered to give him some if he would visit me in Korca. We exchanged cell phone numbers before I headed off down the road towards town.

The other night, my landlord, Palo knocked on my door to introduce a neighbor who wants to learn English. Most young Albanians see English as a key to a more prosperous future. She has been paying for classes and having trouble finding time between her two work shifts and also it is expensive. Neighbors have obligations to each other in Albania, so of course I agreed. The Peace Corps provided me with some computer based English teaching materials which I have found very helpful. I have a couple of people I tutor one on one. One is going off to college next year, so I will have some free time for another student.

My neighbor is a young woman who I think is the mother of Megi, who is in the group of young kids who frequently knock on my door to talk to me and practice their English. It is taught in most grammar schools. At their age it is not much beyond “hello, how are you?”, but I try to introduce new words. Sometimes I lead them around the apartment building, picking up trash and give them each a new word when they put something in the bag. I figure this way I am staying true to my primary assignment in health education, which includes the environment. It’s not an environmental camp in Minnesota, but I don’t have to organize a party to raise money.