Ties That Bind and Fray

NPR had a story about how the internet was changing the Peace Corps experience. Instead of volunteers being dropped off in the jungle with sporadic communication with the outside world for the duration of their two years of service, daily communication with home is now possible with e-mail or even video with Skype. Country directors complained that if any volunteer was unhappy they would hear about it from the parents, or worse, from their congressional representative’s office. Google even has a free service (until the end of the year) through g-mail which allows phone calls to any number in the US. I have used this several times to call friends and family (especially appreciated to use for calls to elderly relatives that don’t have computers). I even have made it available to my neighbors to call relatives in the US using my laptop and a DSL I have through my landlords’ phone and a wire strung out his window and into mine.

My landlords, who live upstairs from me, came over last Sunday and were able to talk with a niece who lives in Worcester, Massachusetts. This city has a large population of Albanians and is a center of Albanian culture (there are also large numbers of Albanian immigrants living in Milwalkee, Detroit, New York and Chicago). Many of my Korca friends have family living there. I plan to visit there on my way home next June since it is not far from the home of some of my family. It will be a nice days outing from Rhode Island and I will be able to introduce them to some Albanians and sample byrek or lakror or some other Albanian specialty.

They talked for almost an hour and couldn’t believe it was free. The niece lives with her husband and children. If I understood everything she is a bookkeeper and he is in construction. They were both crying by the time they finished as they went through a long list of relatives to exchange information on how each was doing either in Albania or America. I expect that in the next week or so I will have a line by my door of other neighbors in my building.

Families here seem so very close and sentimental. It is one of the real contrasts to the US. However, I went to a meeting on trafficking last weekend and the presentation was hard for me to reconcile with my experiences with Albanians. It was held at the home of a nun who works in Korca. She is from Ireland and has a graduate degree from Fordham University in New York. She is on committees for the EU and the UN and spent three weeks this summer in New York City attending hearings about women’s rights in Europe, Asia and South America. Several PC volunteers from the Gender Development Committee came from around Albania to attend. Four stayed at my home. I had no other plans so I went along with them to the meeting.

There were the three nuns who live in the house (the Irish nun and one from Sri Lanka and one from Lebanon), an Albanian who had a public health degree from London and worked a European NGO, and a woman attorney from Korca who works in family law who presented. It seems that most girls are trafficked by relatives who promise them jobs abroad or are courted by young Albanian men who promise marriage, only to force them into prostitution when they arrive in other European countries such as the Belgium or Italy.

I know a family with five daughters that live in Thane. I met them during pre-service training. The father watched them carefully and at night he locked the gate in the wall around the house and garden. I had thought he was overly protective due to tradition, but now I see it from a different perspective.

One volunteer in my cohort who is very active in the GAD committee gave me a copy of a picture book, “Two Small Girls, A True Story” (“Dy Vajzet e Vogla”), that illustrated what happened to a young girl from the city and another from a village. It is supposed to be used for education, although I am not sure what age would be most appropriate. I plan to show it and a video disk that goes with it to the nurses in the Health Education Unit at the Directorate of Public Health where I work and see what they think. November includes a “World Day Against Violence Against Women” and is also international “Anti-child Abuse” month, so maybe we can put together a presentation as part of that and go around to some of the schools in the region.

Maybe an Albanian Mafiosi would stoop so low, but the idea that a relative would sell a girl into prostitution seems very un-Albanian to me. I would have thought they would vigorously defend their families (first offense, shoot out their knees; second offense, aim higher). I was walking in a village the other day when I came upon an older man who recognized me from my visit to my landlord when he was in the hospital after his heart attack last winter. You would think I was his long lost cousin. Of course, I was invited into his home, and talked with him and his wife as they served homemade walnut raki (I had to decline since I don’t drink alcohol, but I was forgiven this rudeness and provided a glass of wonderful spring water to go with the sweets that were served). The house was a beautifully crafted, stone cottage. It had a large American made woodstove, apparently brought back by his father who lived in America for 30 years early in the 20th century. He must have made enough money to furnish his home in style, with overstuffed couches, thick hand-made carpets (an Albanian craft that rivals Persia), wood paneling and fine paintings of mountain scenes. It was like a Victorian parlor, more like a restored North-end craftsman home in Boise than a house in a village in Albania.

I was surprised it had made it through the war and communism, but I guess bad mountain roads make it hard for visitors, whether they are tourists, conquerors or despots. Would they also deter predatory relatives? I hope so. What self-respecting Mafiosi would want to have to walk his unsuspecting victim out along a rutted mountain track, back to his shiny new Mercedes left parked on a roadside in the valley below? He might get sheep or cattle droppings on his expensive leather shoes. Even the totally corrupt must have their standards, or how could they look at themselves in the mirror in the morning.