Ekskursion

Once a month, Dr. Isufi organizes an outing for his patients. He hires a larger furgon to take them and a few family members to some scenic place near Korca. He invited me along on a recent trip to a lakeside park.

A basic, 15 passenger furgon (deluxe models have additional features like shocks or brakes) was filled with 24 people. In typical Albanian fashion, the aisle was filled with plastic stools for extra passengers. Since I was an honored guest, I got a plastic chair in the front of the aisle. The bus was a bit hard to start, so the driver had to work on it and get some water for the radiator. Eventually we were on our way heading northwest from town.

After a short ride we pulled into a private park with grass among large trees by a lake with swans and ducks. There were rowboats for hire, but these were being used by wedding parties for photographs of brides and grooms rowing on the lake and feeding the swans (we are in the thick of Albanian wedding season. I will write more on this later as I am attending a wedding back in Thane at the end of the month). Our group sat on blankets and laid out a typical feast of roast chicken, pilaf, cheese, bread, fruits and vegetables, sausage, beer and raki. Being the guest, everyone made an effort to feed me. Luckily, Dr. Isufi invited me to go walking while I was still able to stand.

We walked to a nearby village where a friend and former patient of Dr. Isufi runs a small coffee bar. Dr. Isufi pulled his hat low over his face and had me walk up to the elderly man, who was sitting on a chair in front of the small, empty store, and ask for directions. He then pulled up his hat and surprised his friend, who was obviously delighted at both the visit and the prank. They shared a beer and I sampled some water from a local spring, and his son and grandson came from the house behind the shop to join us.

We took a short cut through fields back to the park and the patient group. Most of them were still eating, although some were walking along the lake and waving at and well wishing the wedding groups in the boats. After a few hours, we loaded up and headed back to Korca. Each person paid about $2 for the trip.

Dr. Isufi spent 5 years after medical school working as an emergency doctor at a small city near the lake. After communism fell, he returned to his home town of Korca to work as a sports medicine doctor for the local soccer team. After a couple of years, the owner of the team wanted to charge Dr. Isufi to continue the relationship, so Dr. Isufi built a small gym and clinic in front of his parents home, where he also lives with his wife and children, and continues to run his rehabilitation and sports medicine practice. According to a friend of mine, it is the only one of its kind in Albania. He has been here for more than 20 years and is largely self-taught in his specialty.

The clinic is pretty different from anything I have ever encountered in the US. Patients seem to come in without appointments, often walking in on another patient undergoing evaluation or treatment to ask their own question. I have not seen any record keeping or consent forms, although the doctor does make a ledger entry if there is any payment, although this seems infrequent and is rarely more than a few dollars. His diagnoses and treatments seem pretty reasonable for the most part. Most of the patients seem to being doing well, although many have been coming to the gym for years.

Dr. Isufi does not have a car and gets around town on his bicycle or on foot. His parent’s home is near the center of town, so he does not really need a car. He even is able to make house calls on patients who cannot get to the clinic. In typical Albanian fashion, these involve sitting and drinking coffee (or sometimes raki) with the patient and family and chatting about everyone’s family including the doctor’s and mine. Eventually the discussion gets to the patient and their problems.

On the weekend Dr. Isufi likes to work on a ski area of which he is a part owner. It is in the mountains nearby. It is not Sun Valley. It is not Soldier Mountain (a small Idaho ski area owned by Bruce Willis). It is much more like a small ski hill that was set up by a group of Boy Scouts as an eagle project in Cambridge, Idaho, using a washing machine motor to operate a rope tow. Dr. Isufi would like to have a disabled ski program there someday.

One of the other owners owns a bakery in Korca has a van. One Sunday four of us piled into it with bags of cement, shovels and picks, and three steel posts scrounged from somewhere. I was among the youngest of the group and the oldest, who they call “The Commissar” (which he was during communism, but now it is just a nickname), is 78. Two years ago they built a day lodge and that day we dug a trench along the hillside on the northeast corner of the building and built a stone foundation for a kitchen extension. The steel posts were put on concrete footings and set vertical with a level. There were no plans, and, as far as I could tell, none were used for the day lodge either. We worked hard all day long, but did take about an hour for a typical Albanian lunch, complete with the feed the visitor event. I had bought a loaf of corn bread and some fresh vegetables from a small store before we set out, but the others shared homemade sausage, cheese, sardines, beer, bread, and summer apples. They told stories and jokes over lunch. Dr. Isufi speaks a bit of English and tried to translate some of it for my benefit. After a short rest, we were back at work. I was pretty beat at the end of the day. On the way back we stopped to admire a used snow grooming machine they had acquired from Italy that was stored with friends in a village and a building that was being built by some friends at another village along the way.

Dr. Isufi’s wife would like to move to America. He could probably make orders of magnitude more money working as a family doctor in some rural area of the US where most of the doctors appear to be foreign medical graduates. They could have their own house and cars and a second home at a ski area. Dr. Isufi would be a lot better than most of these doctors I have met, but his heart would not be in it. I think he would find American medicine a high pressure, money machine with little time to talk with patients and their families. He would find it strange that there are insurance companies and lawyers that can dictate how long and in what manner he can treat his patients without seeing them or even talking with them or him.

There are lots of problems with medical care in Albania. It is very centralized in Tirana and a patient with any degree of complexity to a problem usually must make the long and difficult trip. Many Albanians do not trust their doctors, who may have bribed their way into medical school or a hospital or clinic position. Complicated, modern equipment, given by a foreign donor, may not be adequately maintained or used appropriately. Many health professionals have emigrated, as Dr. Isufi’s wife urges. In spite of everything, medicine is often provided by doctors to patients humanely and effectively. The same, I think, is true for America.

Fitness

This seems a strange topic to discuss right now as I am recovering from about 2 weeks of some ailment. I awoke one morning with fever and chills, muscle aches and feeling as if someone had kicked me in the stomach while I slept. When I tried to stand I came close to passing out. I had to miss a work day for the first time in decades.

The next day I was able to resume a limited work schedule, but felt weak. I slept a lot and drank a lot of tea. When I didn’t improve after a week, I talked with the Peace Corps medical officer and decided to try Cipro. After a couple of more days, I felt a bit better, possibly due to the antibiotic, possibly not. Some of my Albanian friends and neighbors came by to check on me and give advice. Herbal tea, bananas, hard boiled eggs and well cooked cabbage were recommended. I also got advice through e-mail from friends back home. They recommended different teas, vitamins, chicken soup and against bananas and cabbage. I am not a believer in “single case studies”. As one of my professors used to say, “given any disease in any patient, he will either get better, get worse or stay the same, and just because you are waving your arms around when he gets better, does not imply cause and effect”.

At this point, I am happy with the effect and could care less about the cause. It is good to be back to full activity. I appreciate the concern and help from the Peace Corps staff, my Albanian friends and counterparts, and from my friends back home. Most volunteers have bouts of illness during their service, especially early on as strange foods and situations, cultural and language confusion, new schedules, time changes, living situations, etc. take their toll. I remember about 6 weeks of GI distress that started about a month into my time on the Navajo reservation about 30 years ago. My friends and coworkers at the time laughed and said that was normal. Maybe my most recent illness was a case of “Skanderbeg’s Revenge”.

Usually, however, I am pretty healthy. My only regular medication is a multivitamin. Except for the usual changes of age (eg. hair and vision loss), I am pretty fit, especially compared to others of my age. As with most of my life I have been pretty lucky with natural inclinations so that I don’t have to apply much self discipline. I don’t like heavy, greasy foods. I was inculcated with a love of fresh fruits and vegetables by my farmer grandfather. I don’t watch television (I believe that snacking while watching the tube for hours on end is a major cause of obesity and deconditioning). I like to walk, hike, camp, ski, bicycle, etc. I find starting my day with exercise gives me more energy and helps me sleep at night. I can’t tolerate alcohol and I gave up smoking years ago so I could give health lectures on the evils of tobacco without being too hypocritical.

When I joined the Peace Corps, I figured I would not have access to gyms or exercise equipment. I decided to work out a routine that would not be dependent on equipment or even a lot of room. I thought back to exercises that were in a pamphlet I read long ago in the Air Force on recommended exercises for prisoners of war. There is some irony in using that for my Peace Corps service. Anyway, the isometric exercises described seemed like something I could do anywhere. There is the added advantage of warming you up in the winter before you crawl out of your sleeping bag.

Unfortunately, isometric exercise is particularly boring. It is pretty easy however to work out a routine that exercises most muscle groups starting with the neck and going down to the feet. I do as much as I can make myself do on a regular basis, figuring that the best exercise is the one you actually do. For me this is holding a position for a count of 20 seconds and repeating it 5 times alternating opposing groups of muscles. I also work in some stretches for my shoulders, back and hips and a short aerobic routine of either jumping rope or jumping jacks.

Afterwards, I usually head up the mountain to the East of Korca for the daily “Folks March”. The road has been recently paved to the two hotels and restaurant on top and there is a large cross (like the one on Table Rock in Boise, but with lots less controversy) and an old, small Orthodox church. There are lots of foot and donkey paths crisscrossing the mountain as well. About a 100 Korcans will walk or jog each morning, and more on weekends. Not all go to the top. Many, like me, are older. We form a kind of community and the regulars greet each other with a hearty “mengjesi” (roughly “top of the morning”) and a smile. I am sometimes asked where I am from, since my boots, t-shirt and R&M Steel Company Aviation Building Systems ball cap are obviously not Albanian. They often respond to “from America” with a hearty “Bravo”. It takes me about 1 ½ hours to get to the cross and about 45 minutes to come back down. There is a spectacular view across the valley with Korca at the foot of the mountain surrounded by villages and farms and of the mountains that form it rising more than 6000 ft above the valley floor. I leave about 5:30 AM to avoid the heat of the day and the sun is warming the ridge where the cross is perched by the time I get there.

This is in addition to the exercise I get walking around town to the various places I work or visit for errands or socializing. I only take a bus or furgon when I head out of town. Evening activity is often joining the Korca Xhiro after the heat has dissipated and the townsfolk come out in thousands to slowly walk the boulevards, meet friends, drink beer or coffee and eat qofta (meat balls) or grilled ears of corn sold by street vendors. I often go for an ice cream cone which is about 25 cents for soft serve or 60 cents for three small scoops. Maybe that counteracts some of the exercise, but it sure helps my mental fitness.

The Fourth in Tirana

The American Chamber of Commerce in the capital hosted a Fourth of July party at a private school in Tirana. All the Peace Corps volunteers were invited and many came from all parts of Albania to join the celebration. They charged us each about $6 to attend, but it was well worth it. Hot dogs, hamburgers, potato salad, brownies, cherry pie, éclairs and ice cream along with beer and wine and soft drinks were provided. To my surprise I found that my stomach is no longer used to American food, even though I ate moderately and I don’t drink alcohol. I guess I have become used to the Mediterranean diet of Albania, and I didn’t feel well the next day. That’s was ok, olives, feta cheese, roast chicken and yoghurt, fresh tomato, cucumber and pepper salad is just not appropriate for a 4th of July picnic. The fireworks display was grand and we all sang the national anthem, although I think I was the only one who knew all four verses.

Saturday, I stayed in town to visit the National Historical Museum in Skanderbeg Square. There is a large communist era, heroic style mosaic on the façade. The history starts with the stone-age and documents an unbroken line to present day Albanians. Albanians are very proud that their culture has survived repeated invasion and conquest. The history documented ended with the ‘”war against the fascists”. Albania was able to liberate itself from the Nazis (with some help from the British and Americans), and never sent Jewish or Roma (gypsy) citizens off to the death camps (also, apparently Albert Einstein escaped to America through Tirana in 1933).

Enver Hoxha, the communist dictator, who ruled Albania for 40 years after WWII is only mentioned as a partisan leader against the fascists. Albania is not yet sure how to deal with the long isolation and grinding poverty that characterized his reign. People are angry that they were denied their rightful place in Europe since at the beginning of the 20th century, an independent Albania emerged from the Balkan Wars and WW I for the first time since the 15th century and was at least as developed as many parts of Europe such as Italy and Greece.

Many locals came up to me and asked me if I was American. When I confirmed their suspicion (yes, it is obvious), they shook my hand and wished me a “happy birthday America”. Some also gave condolences on my loss of Michael Jackson. In Albania, it seems almost everyone is known to one another, mostly because they are related. I guess they assume that even though the US is much bigger than Albania, given our advanced communication and travel systems, that must also be true for us. My opinion is that we will have to live as a people in America for at least 3 or 4 millennia to achieve this. I would have explained that even though I liked his music and we share the same first name, I was neither related to nor a personal friend of Michael Jackson, and, being a male of my vintage, I was probably more personally effected by the loss of Farrah Fawcett. Trying to be polite and having limited language skills, I shook their hands, thanked them for their kind thoughts, and yes, I was good, and yes, my family, other than Michael, were good, and, yes, I would pass along their condolences, etc.

Tirana is a bustling, modern city, although the water still goes out part of the day. Walking through the large, Blocku section of town on Saturday night reminded me of parts of New York City, with hundreds of street cafes, art galleries and shops, and a vibrant night life. One startling difference, however, is the graffiti one sees by the university. “America- Freedom, Peace, Happiness” is not one I remember ever seeing at Berkeley. That is understandable because it is hard to appreciate American liberty and tranquility until it is seen through the eyes of an ancient people that has know little of either. Maybe we should sing the last verse of the national anthem at ball games to remind ourselves that we are “blessed” and “heaven rescued” and are pledged to the “just cause”.

I don’t think the younger volunteers have much interest in this sort of musing. They were just happy to be in the Big City and enjoy the urban scene that is absent in most of Albania. It was good to reconnect with my cohort and share tales of our adjustment (many involving plumbing. My electric shower was nowhere near the worst), but I was glad to head back to Korca.

On Sunday, the five hour furgon route went over mountain passes and through river valleys that were steep and narrow, broadening occasionally into pastures, corn and wheat fields and orchards of ripening fig, olive, plum, peach, apricot and more, through the large cities of Elbasan and Pogradec, and smaller ones of Librazhd and Malic, past dozens of villages and along the shore of Lake Ohrid. There are many abandoned and decaying factories and stark communist block apartments (although I have been inside many that have been beautifully remodeled) but also many new businesses and new homes going up where migrant Albanian workers have invested some of their earnings. Many families were picnicking along the river and men were fishing in the rapids of the Shkumbrin River or selling their catch from Lake Ohrid along the roadside.

I would ask a favor of those of you who read this. If you know any Albanians, on November 28, please be sure to shake their hand and wish them a “happy birthday Albania”. Don’t forget to ask them about their family.

A Small Problem

This past weekend I took a bus to Permet for the Balkan Music Festival. I decided to go there rather than to the big beach party in Durres that most of my younger Peace Corps cohorts were attending. Permet is about 38 air miles from Korca which would be about 20 minutes in a Cessna even allowing for climb and descent over the mountains, but the winding, narrow, mostly paved road that rises and descends from the steep valleys and craggy, pine covered, hills takes about 5 hours by bus. There were frequent stops to serve the small villages along the route, to allow traffic to pass (including backing up a few times to accommodate the semi trucks that also use the road), for herds of sheep or goats across the road and once at a roadside spring to allow a young girl and the old lady next to her to clean up after the girl lost her lunch in the hot, crowded, airless interior.

We passed through Erseka, a tidy city with wide streets set in a spectacular alpine valley with several visible cascades from snowmelt on the Southern mountains that separate Albania and Greece. There was also Leskovik which appears to have been a fortress city built on a saddle high above two valleys. It had more varieties of trees than I have seen in one place. They appeared to have been planted, judging by their maturity, during the long communist rule after WW II, but I have not been able to find out much about this. One large tree in the town center had a spring pouring from a tap set into its trunk.

Permet is about 20 miles from the Greek border. It is set in the narrow canyon of the Vjosa River. It has been a settlement since Illyrian times but was largely destroyed during WW II and rebuilt by the communists with typical drab, block architecture and heroic monuments to the people’s struggle against the fascists.

The festival which featured lots of clarinets, accordions, lutes and tambourines and dancing in native costumes was held on the plaza in front of one of the monuments. Performances were held in the morning and late evening to avoid the heat of the day. It was well worth the trip. Flags draped across the main street included NATO and the Stars and Stripes alongside the Albanian national and Permet regional banners. A food tasting event was held on the plaza in front of the city hall. When one of the Peace Corps volunteers I was visiting tried to ask for directions to the table serving white wine, we were introduced to the mayor, given plates of bread, cheese, olives, meatballs and shish kabobs and bottles of local Merlot along with glasses of the red wine. This being Albania, we accepted all this gracefully and were thankful we were not also given instruments and costumes and hauled onto the stage.

The apartments of the volunteers in Permet make my place in Korca look deluxe. I regret my previous complaints. My landlords, who live above me, are incredibly nice and quickly attend to any problems. My neighbors are friendly, and even if it is noisy and lacks privacy, the place has a nice community feel to it. There is a small store in a garage on the dirt road in front of my window. The owner is usually sitting in front on the curb playing backgammon or working on his motor bike. Whenever he sees me he asks me to coffee.

I think I have mentioned the coffee culture in Albania. I like coffee and I especially like the sociability of sitting around with friends at a coffee shop chewing the fat over a prolonged cup of the stuff. I have fond memories of the “Geezer Group” in McCall before I’d head up for skiing or at Dawson-Taylor in Boise on 8th street which seemed to attract pilots and offered the closest thing to hangar flying in the city. Albanians take this to a new level. It seems at times that every conversation or interaction here is punctuated with a coffee. You meet someone and it is either over coffee or you then go for coffee. You should have a very good reason to refuse as it is almost an insult. I find the most common reason I have to turn down an invitation is that I already have an invitation for coffee and I am running late.

For example, I recently had to contact my landlord because I was getting a shock from holding the shower head or touching the faucet while taking a shower. This produced a tingling sensation and twitching in the arm. I think this is unlikely to be fatal or it would have been already. I can avoid it by using a hand towel and I did think about another use for duct tape, which I brought with me, or trying to find electrical tape in the Pazar. He does not speak English and my Shqip is still not very functional. I knocked on his door and left word with his wife that I needed to talk with him.

Next afternoon he knocked on my door. I invited him in. Every conversation in Albania begins with an inquiry about how you are doing.

“Good”, I say.

“Good?” he inquires.

“Yes, good, and you?”

“Good”. “Your family?”

Of course, I haven’t been home in more than three months and the internet connection is down and, anyway, no one back home seems very communicative, so how the heck would I know. “Good, I say, and your family?”

“Good.” He smiles. I see we have gotten through the mandatory, first section of any Albanian interaction. Frankly, I don’t know how people are able to get on a bus here and maintain any kind of schedule. He lets me know his wife told him I needed to see him. I tell him about the electrical massage feature of my bathroom plumbing. Apparently this is a phenomenon throughout the building, but he is sympathetic, knowing that I am a wimpy American. He promises to fix it. He waits.

I remember my manners. “Coffee?”

He smiles. We go to the kitchen where I prepare a couple of cups of Turkish coffee. We continue our conversation about the gastric virtues of Turkish coffee vs. espresso, early morning walks up the mountain, relative merits of Korca vs. the other cities in Albania, which are nice, but can’t compare with Korca. This is a sentiment I share, but I suspect every other city in the country feels the same. Back home, we have had similar conversations on the relative merits of McCall vs. Sun Valley, but in Idaho the distances are much greater.

When he comes back an hour or so later, we repeat the whole process, just in case, we are no longer good or have had late word of some family catastrophe, or have not yet had our daily quota of caffeine. I should mention that I have not seen decaffeinated coffee in Albania.

He went around the apartment with a circuit tester, checking sockets and taps and light fixtures. I was amazed at how many were “hot”. He then went outside and pounded in a new ground next to the building. It seemed to fix the problem for a couple of days. Then a New Zealand couple bicycling through Albania spent the night with me (I was very well treated while trekking in New Zealand decades ago and have a resolution to be nice to Kiwis whenever I have the opportunity) and complained of being shocked in the shower. I need to go to the store for some more coffee before I tell my landlord.

Carnival in Korca

There is a national election in Albania at the end of the month. Among the many rules for Peace Corps volunteers is a prohibition from even the appearance of involvement on politics. A cohort of mine, who works in city hall, was asked by the mayor to be a guest at a dinner speech in their town to be given by one of the national candidates. She was thrilled and even bought a new dress for the occasion. Peace Corps said no. Sometimes being in the Peace Corps is worse than traveling with your parents.

This particular rule, though, is probably for the best. There seems to be a real contest this time, and a relationship with any Western entity plays well in Albania. Everyone is so proud of being admitted into NATO and looks forward to a future in the European Union. A free and fair election will be an important step towards that. So even if I did understand enough Albanian language, culture and history to have an opinion, I would not ever want to do anything that might jeopardize that in any way. So we may grouse about it, but I think most volunteers agree with the policy.

One thing I can report without any bias is that every candidate is for change. One hears that word here even more than it was repeated in the recent US election. In spite of the old joke that “when a politician talks about change he is referring to what will be left in your pocket when he gets done with your wallet”, Albania is changing, palpably and rapidly, and, no doubt, will continue to do so no matter who wins the election.

Korca as a fairly progressive and cultured city is at the forefront of this change, and, of course the case I know best. They are busy repairing the streets and cleaning up parks. The main street I live off of is torn up. Traffic races at the usual breakneck pace, undeterred by the fact that all the traffic now uses only half the road previously available. I almost got hit by a bus that was going the wrong direction on a one way street to get around an area being repaved. There is a cross on a hill overlooking the city. A large number of Korcans get their morning constitutional hiking to the top. There is a natural spring on top. Korcans, like many Albanians. are great connoisseurs of spring water and they bring empty bottles to fill for the daily drinking water, even though the tap water here is safe to drink. They are paving the road to a hotel near the summit. This change may change the nature of the morning “Folks March” to the cross as cars are already roaring up the part that has already been paved.

This weekend was Carnival in Korca. There was a parade on Saturday night through the center of town. It began at about 7:30 PM and ended with fireworks around 10. There were traditional bands (lots of clarinets, guitars and accordions), singers (Korca is famous for serenades and ballades can be heard from beer gardens and locals almost every evening in the pleasant summer weather), dancers in traditional costumes from the region and some from as far away as northern Albania and Macedonia, and clowns on stilts, and acrobats, and lots of masks and Santa Claus and Elvis were there, too. I watched with some other Peace Corps volunteers and some people from the Directorate of Public Health and their families from the steps of the cathedral in the center of town. Apparently, such parades were a long tradition in Korca, but were banned under the communists and were only recently revived. It was a grand event, very well attended by the locals and there were even some foreign tourists.

Such events do a lot for local pride and identity, probably not unlike the Winter Carnival back home in McCall. Hopefully it helps boost the local economy as well (probably hoped for in McCall, as well) since there are towns in the region where there are almost no able bodied, working age males, since they are all away in Greece or elsewhere laboring. Even poor jobs are hard to come by here, as in most of Albania. There are lots of great local products; fruits and vegetables of all variety, a tangy white cheese from Korca that I am particularly fond of and is only available in late Spring, yogurt and olive oil and at least three local breweries. The most famous of these is Birra Korca reputed to be the best in Albania and “birra e zeze” (the dark beer) can hold its own against any in Europe. There is a beer festival in Korca in August, also a recently established event. I may have a dozen or more Peace Corps volunteers from around the country camped out at my apartment for that weekend.

Maybe someday, Birra Korca will be available in the US and Albanians will work in great numbers at the factory and in service and other jobs that spin off from production. For now, the brain drain and emigration continue. An Albanian nurse, trained in therapy by the local NGO that serves disabled children and burn victims in Korca and outlying villages, “won the lottery” and was granted a work visa in the annual drawing run by the US embassy. She has emigrated, no doubt to work in a nursing home someplace in the US. She will make a low wage by US standards, but almost unimaginable in Albania. I will help train new staff at the NGO, but I hope my real purpose is not to live in Albania for 2 years and train Albanians to work in America.

Meanwhile, I enjoy my morning walks up to the cross and enjoyed my friends and the events of the past weekend. I have classes starting over the next couple of weeks in exercise physiology and English and aviation and even a computer class. At least I know that anyone who learns computer skills from me would be very unlikely to find any related employment in the first world.

Mirupafshim (Farewell) Elbasan

Next Thursday is the ceremony for completion of Pre-Service Training. The US ambassador to Albania is attending and the host families are invited. It is being held at the Skampa Theater, just outside the castle wall in Elbasan. I hope it is air conditioned because it has become incredibly hot and humid in the past 2 weeks, and, of course, it is scheduled for mid day and I am supposed to wear a suit.

Elbasan is not known as a tourist destination and, in fact, is the butt of much Albanian humor (eg. “How many Elbasani does it take to change a furgon tire?”). However, I have not met better, harder working, more honest and generous people. I plan to return to visit my host family later this summer or early autumn.

Yesterday, I took a break from studying to visit the ethnographic museum in Elbasan. It is housed in a two hundred year old Ottoman house and shows the crafts of the many guilds that were in Elbasan at that time. Wool production and weaving, silk and felt production, wood carving, pottery, tobacco and pipe making, gun, copper and silver-smithing were all active in Elbasan and the exhibits at the museum were instructive. The house itself has a sturdy elegance that even though it is in need of some restoration gives a sense of the rich life of the middle class of the Ottoman Empire in the Balkans.

Nearby are the castle wall and the clock tower. The wide cobbled street to the west is closed to traffic and is popular for the early evening “xhiro” (pronounced “geerow”), a slow promenade of the citizenry for socialization and a bit of exercise as the heat of the day gives way to the cooler Mediterranean evening. The Skampa Theater is at the south end of the street, a modern building which houses a hotel and an auditorium that shows intermittent movies, plays and travelling productions.

Inside the castle walls, which are more than a ½ mile square, are numerous buildings, including churches, a mosque, homes, schools, businesses. There are also ruins that go back to Roman times. There is an elegant restaurant, the Real Skampa. It is set on a tiered deck that overlooks a grass courtyard and a small amphitheater. This space is popular for weddings and is used by some of the local schools for class productions of songs and dances in traditional dress and dramatic readings of Albanian poetry. I had the chance to see some of the younger children, who were especially entertaining. It reminded me of my own grammar school pageants long ago.

Albania, in general, is a hiker’s paradise. The hills and mountains have myriad dirt roads and paths that lead to incredible vistas and small villages. Most of the “traffic” on them is cows or sheep being walked to pasture or the occasional donkey cart. One of the prior volunteers is working on a “Bunker to Bunker” trail project of hikes between the some 750,000 concrete bunkers that dot the countryside (constructed under the 40 year communist dictatorship to protect from foreign invaders). I walk up behind Thane most evenings. It’s hard to imaging better hiking than in the hills around Elbasan. Volunteers at other sites in the area all say the same.

About 10 miles outside of Elbasan on a road that turns off from the road to Thane is the village of Llixha (pronounced “leejah”). There are regular buses from the center of Elbasan. They are clearly marked LLIXHA on the sides and the ride cost about 50 cents. “Llixha” is Albanian for “spa”. The town smells mildly of sulfur from the hot springs. There are several hotels along the creek that will rent rooms with small soaking pools. I was told there were natural pools further up the creek. I hiked up a ways but my curiosity dissipated in the heat of the day. For those of you familiar with Idaho’s hot springs, it’s not as fancy Lava but it’s not as dilapidated as Murphy. They are working on the town, paving streets and putting in colored concrete paver sidewalks. It has potential. Some of the hotels have gardens and I sat on a bench among the roses and ate my lunch of fresh olive bread and fruit that I had bought in Elbasan. I looked across the creek to the rolling, orchard covered hills and the mountains beyond that still have a bit of snow on the summits.

That’s my short tourist guide to Elbasan. I am sure there is more; however I have been kind of occupied during my 10 weeks here. If you’re not the type that is enamored of disco bars and hotels on the beach, Elbasan has something to offer. It’s not the typical buffed up European tourist destination, but it has an honest, exotic feel that I appreciate. It may be a bit tattered, frayed around the edges and a little worse for the wear, but if those were reasons not to like something, I wouldn’t have any friends.

First Impressions of Korca

After the two day counterpart (the person I am assigned to work with, at least initially) conference in Tirana, I got on a furgon for the 5 hour trip to Korca. My counterpart’s husband had accompanied her. He drives a taxi and they had driven in that. They had to leave early because their 18 month old was sick at home, but they were nice enough to take my huge duffle bag. This looks and feels like a body bag (I mention that only so that a certain friend of mine from McCall with sinister suspicions about the Peace Corps might find this blog if he does a web search) and contains about 80% of my stuff. This will make my move to my permanent site in 2 weeks much easier.

We stopped twice for smoke, coffee or food breaks and once for a water break at a natural spring that poured water from a hundred taps along both sides of the mountain road that switch-backed between the Shkumbin River (Elbasan’s valley) and Lake Ohrid. We were also stopped three times by the police to check papers as the furgon had Shkrodra plates and there is a traditional distrust of northerners by southerners in Albania and vice versa. They are separated by roughly the same distance as McCall and Mountain Home (about 140 miles, which in Albania is a 7 hour drive and longer in traffic or other worse than usual road conditions, hard as that is to imagine), so this is probably not completely unreasonable.

Lake Ohrid is at the eastern edge of the valley. It is a huge, rift lake surrounded by high, snow covered mountains, on the border between Albania and Macedonia. It is more than 1000 feet deep and undoubtedly has a Balkan relative of Sharlie (McCall’s lake monster) in residence. The road between Pogradec, a small city at the southern end of the lake and Korca is surprisingly good. We sped past small towns, well tended fields and orchards in a wide valley with high mountains on either side. Soon we were in Korca (pronounced “korcha”), the main city of southern Albania, where I will live and work for the next 2 years.

Many Albanians I have met have identified Korca as their favorite city. It has a very European feel with many cobblestoned and tree lined streets, restored 19th century buildings, large parks, museums and an impressive Orthodox cathedral in the city center. There is even an American library here with a large English language collection, a big plus for someone who likes to read.

I stayed at the apartment of another volunteer, from Alaska, who has been here for 3 years and is leaving in a couple of months. She is also in health education, working mainly in grammar and high schools, with a more traditional Peace Corps repertoire in the areas of life skills, sex education, and hygiene. I have watched her teach a few classes. She is very energetic and relates well with the children. I hope I can be half as effective.

There are three other volunteers here. A Texan about my age who works at the city hall in community development and hangs out at the “Dallas” local in the center of town. He is a fan of the Confederate Air Force and has a large picture collection on his computer. He is also leaving in a couple of months. The other two are a young, married couple from Chicago and Florida. He works in community development, mainly with an NGO, and she teaches English at the university. They will be here another year, and there are also volunteers from my group in smaller cities within an hour or so, including Pogradec, Bilisht and Erseka. Most enjoy the outdoors, so I should have some company for my initial exploration of trails and archeological sites in the area.

During my three day visit, I had the opportunity to meet with several people I may work with and live among in Korca. I visited the pazar (the market) in the center of town and was introduced to the favored fruit and vegetable vendors. Korca is a potato growing region. I have sampled them and they are good. Of course, I gave the vendor an Idaho spud pin. Korca is also known for its apples, but it is too early for this year’s crop. We visited a small grocery store and the owner, who is very interested in geography, wanted to know all about Idaho. I showed him some pictures and gave him another pin. I forgot myself as one should never get in a giving competition with an Albanian. I received a huge container of local plum preserves, very tasty. Welcome to Korca.

I visited my counterpart at the Public Health District Office and met her coworkers, including the director. We had coffee. One is a doctor doing a project on iodine in salt. This is a great idea as goiter is a common problem here. She is also responsible for water testing and other environmental issues (Korca appears to be in the forefront on this in Albania). Another has collected data on traffic accidents and is also interested in work injuries. This is all processed by hand, but they anticipate getting computers soon.

The Public Health Director, who is technically my boss, took me to meet the head of the hospital. He expressed an interest in setting up a therapy clinic at the hospital with the one therapist, two orthopedic surgeons and the nursing school to work with me to build a sustainable program. He was so anxious to get started that he wanted us to go downstairs and see the room. We had other visits to make, but I am very encouraged by his attitude. There is an NGO clinic in town that works with disabled children. There is a home health program that works with what sounds like hospice and burn patients. I can understand Korca’s reputation as a progressive city.

There are English language programs at the American library, and that may be a good place for my aviation interest club. I may need to get some books donated as their holdings in that area are almost nonexistent. The building has a large central hall which appears to be perfect for paper airplanes. Unfortunately, the person needed to approve any plans was away. I will be back in two weeks and I have two years, though even now, it seems it may hardly be enough.

The only down side was the housing. The Peace Corps has placed me in a communist era, first floor apartment a long way from the center of town. The balcony can be easily scaled from the street level so security is a concern. The other windows in the apartment have bars on them, but if they also bar the balcony I would have more safety concerns than I already do. It is a four story brick building in an active earthquake area. There is a large, horizontal crack visible in the central stairs which are in front of the door. The outside, un-reinforced walls appear to be intact. I would not want to be caged in my apartment in the event that a building collapse might leave me capable of crawling out the open balcony (and maybe add that to my “why am I still here” list).

Previous volunteers have been assigned there, however, of the last three, one “ET’d” (left the Peace Corps early, for personal reasons) and the other two rejected the apartment for security concerns. Yet, I do like to walk and I can turn down some of the offered teaching assignments that are unreasonable to access on foot. Also, it is clean and relatively well furnished, and, it has a French, as opposed to a Turkish, toilet, which is a big plus. Although it may be very cold in the winter and hot in the summer, it is far from a mud hut in Botswana and not atypical of the homes of many Albanians. I have insurance (there is a company that specializes in insurance for Foreign Service personnel which is offered as an option for volunteers) if there is a break in. I have done lots riskier things than live in an old, brick building in an earthquake zone, and I can let my heirs and the Peace Corps deal with the legal matters if there are any seismic consequences. So, if alternatives arise, I will explore them. For the time being, this is home.