Albanian Indian Summer

The cold, rain and fog gave way to sunny warm autumn days with the smell of wood smoke filling the air during the nights and lingering into the morning. The inversion in the valley made me shed my jacket during my morning walk up the mountain to the east of town and the crystal air on top provided stunning views of the ranges that surround the valley and border Macedonia to the northeast and Greece in most other directions except west, where beyond several mountains and river valleys lies the Adriatic. I walked past herds of sheep and goats grazing on the public land. Occasionally a rider on a mule or donkey with a wooden saddle, ridden sidesaddle (astraddle would not be a more comfortable ride) went by. There were lots of people out walking. On weekends, some carried picnic bags, soccer or volleyballs, and guitars as they walked with their families for a day’s outing.

On Saturday night I went with my neighbor’s family to see Skenderbeu, Korca’s professional soccer team, play Dinamo, the league leader from Tirana. Korca’s stadium has recently been remodeled. There are individual reserved plastic seats instead of the stone benches and there are four large arrays of night lights. Now night games are preferred, even though it would be a lot more comfortable in the warm daytime than the cold nights. People marvel at the lighting that lets them watch their favorites after sunset. No wonder, as my friend Lawrence from Malta, who has taught in Korca for 12 years, told me that when he first drove into Albania from Greece there were literally no lights anywhere. He stayed at the border until daybreak as he was afraid to drive in the pitch darkness. It was the first game at home and there was a dedication ceremony with singing and dancing and fireworks before the game. There were many more women and girls than I have seen attending a soccer match. Korca won before a very enthusiastic home crowd. We stopped for coffee and hot chocolate on the way home and met another volunteer who was with his friends at the game.

My neighbor’s daughter has applied for the YES program which sends high school kids from around the world to attend a year in the US. She has made it past the first three rounds of tests and interviews. The other volunteer and I contributed to her transportation to Tirana for these as it is a strain for her family. There are hundreds of kids applying for only a few slots. If she gets to go it will be quite an adventure for her as she had never even been to Tirana before she went for the first test. It will be very hard for her parents to have her gone for so long as they are a very close family and she is an only child. However, they are very anxious for her to have the best in life, especially for her education, so they are very supportive of her application.

She has been tutored in English by Peace Corps volunteers since she was nine and is quite fluent in English. We are currently reading Huckleberry Finn as part of our lessons. With all the dialect it is pretty hard going for her, it requires a lot of reading of context for meaning rather than just vocabulary, and she is doing very well. If she spends a year in the US she will be essentially bilingual.

If she is selected (that is probably unlikely as I have heard that the selection process is rigged, not an uncommon occurrence in Albania, and hers is a humble family without the necessary connections), I wonder what the net effect will be. Will she be enchanted by the US or meet someone there so that she will eventually become part of the Albanian diaspora? Will she learn something that she can bring home to the benefit of herself, her family and her community? This is the wager of exchange programs, be they the YES program for high school kids or the Peace Corps.

I listened on-line to a recent City Club of Boise meeting where the speaker was the Pakastani ambassador to the US (by the way, as a young man he had come to the US on an exchange program). He pointed out the irony that the world was smaller than ever, there is a 24 hour news cycle and, yet, most of what we know about the world is filtered through the special interests in New York or Washington, DC, and is wrong. He is trying to be the first ambassador to visit all 50 states. Idaho is a good place to learn something different from what he would in New York or Washington. Maybe the Federal government should have a program like we have in Idaho with “Capital for a Day” held in our varied towns and cities.

Tuesday is Bajram, a holiday in Albania. It is a Muslim holy day which commemorates the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son at God’s command. For Muslims, he is called Ibrahim and the son in question is Ishmael. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, Abraham is willing to sacrifice Isaac. I can imagine the two boys fighting about which one gets to be sacrificed, arguing to the point that the beleaguered father considers maybe sacrificing them both. After all, he was pretty old by that time and probably not greatly tolerant of jabbering and squabbling children. How was he going to explain this to their mothers? He probably wished they had had girls who are by nature more compliant with issues involving sacrifice. In any event, as the story goes, the boy or boys are spared, the goat is sacrificed, and, by a fortunate coincidence, is delicious when roasted and served as a main dish (I am grateful that a rutabaga was not the first alternate). Albanians, fervently believing that no excuse for a feast should be wasted, have a big meal to celebrate regardless of their religious affiliation. It seems that the way to cultural harmony is through the stomach.

Next week is our own, secular, American Thanksgiving; Americans demonstrating our cultural advancement by adding football to the feast schedule- Thanksgving, New Years and Superbowl Sunday- (a fact that I think argues for the superiority of American Football over Soccer). I am still not sure if I am hosting a group of volunteers at my apartment for a big pot luck or if the American ex-pat community in Tirana will come through with enough invitations to accommodate all the PC volunteers from around the country. There are a lot more this year than last so I think there is less enthusiasm for the endeavor. Last year I was invited to eat with the US Ambassador at his residence. I think there must be a special source for diplomatic turkeys as it was about the tastiest bird I have ever eaten. Ambassador Withers retired this past summer and his replacement has not yet been confirmed. I suggested that since the residence was free, we could provide the cook and butler with some useful recurrency training by hosting a large group of volunteers for dinner. I think the dining room could easily accommodate 30. Like many of my best ideas, it was ignored.

Whatever happens, I am certain I will not be hungry the next couple of weeks. I will try to be mindful of the many blessings I have as an Idahoan, an American and a Peace Corps volunteer serving in Albania. I will think of the many family and friends whose distance or death keeps us apart on this holiday. I will remember gratefully the many who have been willing to make personal sacrifices on my behalf.