Harvest Time

The volunteers in Permet had a potluck dinner last Sunday. One of them is a vegetarian, so the menu was multiple vegetable dishes; hummus, focaccia bread, crostini with yoghurt sauce and roasted pepper topping, orange/carrot salad, bean salad, fresh feta cheese, homemade tomato pickles, and lemon pound cake and jello with fresh peaches for dessert. Those that drank alcohol had dark Korca beer, the rest homemade lemonade or spring water. I was fortunate to be visiting.

It is harvest time in Albania and the markets are full of fresh fruits and vegetables brought in by the villagers from the fields they work in the fertile river valleys of the countryside. It is mostly organically grown by default, since villagers tending their small family plots by hand, can’t afford commercial fertilizer or pesticides (although some, small entrepreneurs are starting to use the “bio” label on their products to indicate that it is organically grown). The challenge of planning a dinner is selecting from the cornucopia in the bazaar. In smaller cities, like Permet, the volunteers get to know the people in the bazaar personally. Shopping takes a long time as each vendor has to be greeted with hugs and air kisses and the traditional exchanges regarding how one is doing and how is the family, supplemented by information about how good today’s fruits or vegetables are or if the cheese is salty, and this requires sampling and then further discussion.

Early in the morning, we went for a hike to a mountain village about an hour and a half upriver from Permet. We passed fields, grape vines and fig orchards. People were working and as we passed they chatted with us and offered generous samples of whatever they were harvesting. The grape bunches were dense with small, tasty berries. The fresh figs were ripe and bursting. When someone saw us picking fruit off of a tree along the road, we were cautioned not to eat from the tree over the septic tank and to walk a bit further down the trail. The blackberries were a bit past their peak, but we were able to gather fennel seeds from the drying plants on the roadside. Shepherds were out with flocks of cows, sheep or goats. They waved as we passed. We are reluctant to approach them too closely as their dogs can be riled if we get between them and their charges. People were fishing in the rapids of the Vjosa River that flows through the valley, north from the Greek border. Part of the trail back from the village was a path along a stream that was fast and full from the Mali Dhembi (toothed mountains) that rise steeply from the west side of the valley. It had a spring alongside, pouring from the trunk of a large shade tree.

It was warming up when we got back to town, so we stopped for a drink. Our friends who run the restaurant allowed us to treat, for a change. We were celebrating their success in the latest step in their plan to move to Milwaukee. They recently had passed visa interviews and from talking to others, they expect to get their visas soon. They have relatives in Wisconsin and good job prospects for the whole family. We like their restaurant. The food is excellent, traditional faire, and there is a big screen TV. When we are there, they put on BBC news for us, although their teenage son favors American action movies. They are practicing their English in anticipation of their emigration, so we talk Albanian to them and they speak English to us.

On the bus drive to and from Permet, big bags of produce were loaded into the cargo hold at frequent village stops along the route. Closer to Korca there were stands, usually tended by the children of the rural families, selling potatoes, onions or apples (the products for which the Korca region is known in Albania). Most villagers, and, indeed, gardeners in town, grow everything. The grapes and figs and plums in Korca aren’t as good as those from Permet. Tomatoes and watermelons and corn are better near Elbasan or Fier, but mono-culture is unknown here. This is mostly for their families, but they sell any excess and there are some commercial operations. Prices are very low for local produce. In the market, plums are about 15 cents a pound, apples about 20 cents, and grapes 30 to 50 cents. Whole milk from the farm is about 30 cents a half gallon, although you do have to heat it to just below boiling and then let it cool as a method of home pasteurization.

My neighbors have had loads of firewood delivered and are chopping it into pieces to fit into their wood stoves. The Albanian axe is distinctive, and its shape looks almost medieval. The blade is much larger and thicker than an American axe. It makes quick work of splitting small logs. Most homes in Korca are heated with wood, which seems strange in a city of more than 50,000. My landlord, who had a heart attack last year, is not up to splitting cordwood, so he hired a farmer from a nearby village to do it for him. The farmer towed a table saw with his tractor and ran it off of the drive train. He went through the pile of wood quickly while my landlords, Palo and Moza, and most of the other residents in my apartment building sat around and watched. They drank coffee or raki and commented or joked about the work. Most seemed to think that Palo and Moza's sons should be splitting and stacking the wood for them, but they both work and are busy. Also, Palo is a retired mechanic and loves machinery of any sort. The tractor driven table saw obviously delighted him.

Many Korcans make peta in the fall. This is an egg and flour dough that is rolled out like a tortilla, dried in the sun and then broken up to use as pasta. Fresh peta, boiled and served with butter, is a delicacy, although a bit bland for my taste. Several friends have invited my over to sample their own special product. It all pretty much tastes the same to me. Since few of them cover the peta while it is drying, it may have markings from or even dead insects or bits of leaves or dirt in it. I have really tried not to be too prissy about hygiene differences between Albanian and American culture, but I am glad the peta spends time in boiling water before it is consumed. Anyway, I have eaten much worse on camping trips in the Idaho backcountry.

Cooler autumn weather has made mid-day hikes in the mountains pleasant. This is good because it is dark in the morning when I have to set out on my constitutional if I want to get back in time for work. Yesterday, as I started up my usual trail to the cross, I surprised a pack of dogs sleeping in the field. They growled ominously and I could not see how many there were. I picked up some rocks and tried to walk a little further out to pass around them without provoking an attack. It may be better when the time changes in October or they will move closer to town as it gets colder. Maybe I can find time later in the day for my walk. I have tried to get either of the other volunteers in Korca interested in the traditional hike up the hill, but neither is a morning person (are there any in the current generation of young adults?). Perhaps they will take me up on my invitation if it is for a more civilized hour.

Konstruksion

Dr. Isufi decided to build a new clinic building. He built his old building on his parent’s property, in front of their home, in central Korca, near the city hall. It was small and seemed more slapped together than planned. He met with an architect and planned a modern, three story office building with plenty of room for his practice and room for his son to open his own dental practice, as well. The building would still fit on the property, in front of his house, although there would be no room for a garden or for off street parking for his son’s car. In late July, he moved as much of his gym equipment as he could into a storefront across the street and a few exam tables into another, smaller one down the block, and the demolition of his old building began.

A crew of men with picks, shovels and sledge hammers did this work by hand. They dug out the foundation and rerouted the plumbing. Footings for the steel reinforced concrete posts were constructed and a cement truck pulled up one day and filled up the forms and foundation. This took about a month. His mother, son, dog, other family and visitors have had to pick through the site to get access to the house in the rear of the lot.

Clinic continues in the temporary venue. It is not easy since the storefront is up six steep steps and most of the patients use canes, crutches, walkers or even wheelchairs. They are helped into the clinic by family members or even other patients. There are three tables in the back where, Shpresa (which means “hope”), his medical assistant, administers modality treatments and directs patients about. There is no changing room. There is a closet sized toilet which provides the only private space, and a boom box to provide background music. Isufi sees a few patients here and, when he needs more privacy, he walks about 50 feet down the block to a small storefront, behind a low iron fence where more equipment is stored and a few exam tables, a cabinet and an x-ray view box allow for his clinical evaluation and treatment.

In mid-August the work crew did not show for a few days, as the contractor has another project nearby and put the men to work there. Isufi was not happy and had to threaten to find another contractor to get the project going again. By mid-September the concrete floors and ceilings for the first two stories were completed and the masonry work for the walls was progressing quickly. Isufi and his son hope to move in by the end of October, although this seems a bit optimistic to me. The third floor will be left to the future to be completed as money allows.

This is typical in Albania. The country is filled with partially completed structures. It is largely a cash economy and only the biggest projects are financed. Almost all homes and smaller commercial buildings are built, like Isufi’s office, as the owner can afford construction. They may be partly occupied, giving the impression that squatters have taken over. This has some advantages, however. There was no mortgage crisis here and, in fact, like many developing countries in the world, the Albanian economy, although it slowed substantially, never went through the recent recession experienced in the US.

What is unusual in Isufi’s project is that he has financed this with savings from his work in Albania. He has not relied on remittances from his or family members work abroad. Many houses, including the one I lived in with my host family during pre-service training, are built with money earned by migratory work in Greece, Italy, or elsewhere in Europe or North America. In some cities, especially on the coast, like Saranda, Vlora or Durres, construction may be financed by laundered money from crime or corruption. These are often large projects that are mostly empty as there is no incentive in such a situation to meet a real estate demand or to sell in a low market to partially recover an investment. Sometimes work on these big projects halts when the contractors are forced to take payment in unsellable condos and are then unable to pay their workers.

None of this is relevant to Isufi’s new clinic. He wants to move in as soon as possible. His son wants to open his own practice rather than work for another dentist. He plans to marry next year as soon as his practice becomes established. Dental problems are very prevalent in Albania and he will certainly not lack patients.

Interestingly, Isufi’s building is behind the new Polyclinic building. This is mostly finished, but unoccupied. I have been told that this is because the grant that allowed the building to be constructed did not provide for furnishings. In any event, there are not many medical specialists in Korca. This may change since Albania is reorganizing its health care into regional centers with hospitals in smaller cities being turned into family practice clinics with concomitant development of specialty facilities in places like Korca. I don’t know whether Isufi’s building will be competing with the Polyclinic building or, if it is, it will be at an advantage or disadvantage.

Speaking of clinics, I recently traveled to Tirana to see the Peace Corps Medical Officer for follow-up on my mid-service medical evaluation, a dental exam and vision testing. As an older volunteer, I worry that they will find something and ship me out because it is less of a hassle to get rid of me than to try to treat some malady and keep me in the country. I saw this happen to a volunteer who had an episode of atrial fibrillation. I don’t know all the details of his case, but I did talk with him. I also know that such a case would not preclude him from returning to flight status after a few months, so it seems a bit strange to me that he could be fit to be a pilot but not a Peace Corps volunteer in Albania. Lucky for me, I am pretty healthy. I probably will pay for some extra cleanings (the PC only pays for one dental cleaning a year- not a good idea for an older person interested in keeping their teeth), but, otherwise, have few concerns. My eye glass prescription didn’t even change, although my lenses are pretty scratched up and could use replacement. This, apparently, has to be special ordered through Washington and is probably not worth the hassle.

Then, again, it is hard not to wonder how much real change working for two years makes in a place like Albania, or, probably for most places where there are PC volunteers. It is easy to get discouraged. I wonder how much protest I would put up. I am fortunate in that I get lots of positive feedback from my counterparts (although I am not so gullible to believe much of it) and I have a good support network here and at home. I heard that one of the older volunteers in the new group recently left. My group had a Program and Training Officer who took some special interest in the older volunteers. She hosted a brunch at her home in Tirana over 4th of July weekend my first year. She has since transferred to Africa and her replacement hasn’t arrived yet. 4th of July celebrations were a bit strange this year, anyway, with the party in Tirana not open to all volunteers and not observed until the following weekend. I don’t know how much support that volunteer had from her site mate or her service cohort or counterparts or if it would have made any difference. Six months into service is reputed to be a time of increased departures.

On Sunday afternoon, I hosted a small group of volunteers at my apartment for dinner. We made an eggplant stroganoff (made with yoghurt sauce instead of sour cream) served over noodles, salad, bread, and chocolate pound cake ala mode for dessert. The group included volunteers from my group, one from the new group and one from the prior group who opted to extend for a third year and move to Korca to work on a tourism project. We enjoyed our meal then joined the Sunday evening walkers for a pleasant stroll and a stop for coffee, then back home to watch a movie on my computer. I popped corn which we ate with salt and curry powder on it (don’t wince- you should try it) during the show. It was good to get together. It makes you feel a part of something, and calms the sense of isolation that is inevitable with a long service abroad.

I will be home for a visit in four months and have less than four months to go when I get back. Things are picking up at work as people have returned from August vacations. School has started. I have some new projects for this year. The weather has cooled a bit and I am enjoying my weekend hikes in the mountains again. I have short vacations planned in Turkey, Greece and Macedonia. I expect the time will pass quickly.