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.