Viti i Ri

New Years. Nine months into the 27 months of a Peace Corps tour. Actually, 2010 will be the only full year I spend in Albania. That thought makes the term of service seem short. I have found in my past relocations that 2 years is the minimum amount of time one needs to feel at home in a new place. I suspect that is part of the reason for the time commitment required of volunteers.

I finally got one of the gas heaters in my apartment to work and I can sit comfortably in front of it and work at my computer. It then became unseasonably warm after a rainstorm moved through Korca on Christmas Day. My visitors and I fixed a large Christmas dinner. We had roast chicken, mashed potatoes, salad and pumpkin pie for dessert. The stove in my apartment made this a bit of a challenge. It has a number of unlabeled dials that I still have not figured out. The temperature in the oven varies quite a bit so that food in the rear is burnt while that in the front is uncooked. Only two of the four burners on top appear to work. Even so, the meal was great. I had 4 visitors for Christmas and have had 7 at different times during the week. For some of the younger volunteers this is their first time away from home. I wanted to make sure that none in my region felt abandoned so issued a general invite for those wanting to spend the holiday in Korca. We set up a small tree and scrounged some lights. We had some recorded seasonal music and we played Scrabble, Pictionary, Sorry, Monopoly and, of course, Furgon Driver.

When the weather allowed we walked around town and up the hill to the cross on top. We visited the museums and the art show at the cultural center. We had the thick, hot cocoa with hazelnuts that is served in some of the cafes. We had crepes from the vendors in the holiday market. We shopped in the bazaar which has spread along the streets surrounding the market area.

I went to work at the Directorate of Public Health a couple of days, but not much was going on and I left early. My school classes are on holiday break. At clinic, the patients had a holiday dinner. They invited my visitors and had a grand game of “Feed the Americans”. Some of my visitors are part of the Peace Corps group that transferred to Albania when they were evacuated from Georgia (the country, not the state) when Russia invaded. They said that Georgians are even more aggressive at feeding their guests than Albanians. This is hard to imagine. Reportedly, Georgians don’t just continuously refill your plate; they stack the plates in front of you and yell at you until you eat. I used to think that only Americans had trouble controlling portions at meals. I surreptitiously put a few pieces of meat in a napkin to bring home to Ilky.

Korca has been packed with visitors. I have heard the 25% of Albanians work out of the country and they must all come home for the holidays, if they can. Lots of cars have Greek license plates, possibly tourists, but more likely Albanians who live and work in Greece. The internet and cell phone systems, which don’t have a lot of excess capacity at the best of times (the companies sell the services aggressively whether or not they can fulfill the contracts), failed completely for a while and then worked only intermittently. At least the power and the water were reliable.

The warm weather put local skiing on hold. This is something I have experienced before in Idaho, although I saw from the National Weather Service that it has been cold and snowy back home. I am certain that Murphy’s Law will make the next two ski seasons at Brundage ones that will be talked of fondly for years. I almost wish I hadn’t been such a wimp about lightning, hail and darkness last week when I had the chance to ski, but I am sure I will get another chance.

On New Year’s eve we walked to the center of town. It was not what I expected. I had been told there were fireworks and, I guess, I visualized an American style production, where spectators watch professionals safely put on a show. After nine months in Albania, I should have known better. The center of the city was blocked off by the police and people lined the sidewalks. They impulsively threw firecrackers into the street. Some bounced off bystanders before exploding. Participants, mostly males, of all ages, held fireworks in their hands, waving them towards the center of the street (the instructions on the tubes advised fixing them in dirt and standing back 20 feet). Some also stood on the steps in front of the cathedral and launched firecrackers and rockets towards the statue in the center of the square. The temporary ice skating rink which was not being used by skaters was a favorite target for fire crackers. Fireworks were also launched from balconies on several levels above street level. This gave the effect of a running battle between the two sides of the street. No one dared to walk down the middle and even walking along the sidewalk led one under sparks from the balconies and the tubes waved by the revelers. This peaked at midnight while the bells of the cathedral tolled to mark the New Year, but went on for hours before and after. The volunteers were somewhat intimidated. We covered our ears to protect them from the cacophony and carefully picked our way out of the center to the boulevard that led back to my apartment.

It seemed warm and we only wore light jackets when we left but returning, the wind picked up and it turned cold. It rained intermittently as the clouds flew across the valley. Some of my visitors from nearby took furgons home. The walk downtown to see them off found most businesses closed and the bazaar practically empty. Korca was as quiet as I have ever seen it. I expect things will be back to normal when the last of my visitors take the bus home on Saturday. I look forward to going back to work on Monday and starting on my list of resolutions.

Gazuar Festat

Albanians love celebrations, so Albania pretty much observes all holidays, religious and civil, and of most denominations. "Happy Holidays” seems pretty appropriate here without the accusation of quibbling one hears in the US from those who think only a hearty “Merry Christmas” will do. Korca certainly has the Christmas spirit. There are lights and trees everywhere. Parades and processions by different denominations are scheduled. The square in front of the cathedral in the center of town has a tent for loud rock music, beer, and dancing. There is a temporary, outdoor ice skating rink next to that, several booths for the holiday market, and a stage for the planned musical and dance performances that will go on until the 7th of January, which is the big Christmas day for the Orthodox Church which predominates here.

For the secular (Albania was officially an atheist state under the 40 year communist rule), there are a fireworks in store for New Years Eve. Lots of kids have firecrackers and they pop with increasing frequency as the big day approaches. Albanians love things that blow up and many people say that was a principle motivation for the anarchy that wrecked the country in 1997 when, in response to an economic collapse, young men looted the armories and had great fun with grenades, rockets and automatic weapons. Happily, current explosions are limited to the variety sold at the legal fireworks stands in Idaho around the 4th of July. Maybe Idaho should consider adopting this tradition, since the rain, snow and cold of winter makes the corollary Idaho “tradition” of accidental forest, grass, and structural fires unlikely.

Speaking of wanting to blow things up, I was supposed to attend a course on project design and management in Durres a couple of weeks ago. I had heard from several sources that this training is particularly good. Unfortunately, my counterpart, Jani, who was supposed to attend with me, developed kidney problems that put him in the hospital the day before we were to leave. The Peace Corps staff person in charge of the meeting reached me by cell phone as I was on the bus and told me not to come without my counterpart.

I was initially miffed, because I had cleared my schedule, arranged coverage for my classes and really wanted the training. I have already had one grant application for a small grant for equipment to do worksite environmental monitoring turned down. Dr. Isufi enlisted my help with a grant application to the Vodafone Albania Foundation to help get a disabled ski program going at his ski area. This was only shortly before the application was due and he was a little unclear of what he wanted to do with the money, but it was also not helped by my lack of expertise. Others at the Directorate of Public Health have also asked for assistance. Since I am the only volunteer left in Korca, I feel an obligation to do what I can. The next training session is not until June which will leave less than a year left for me to do anything. Not enough time. So when I got back to my apartment, I downloaded some training materials on grant writing and then took a later bus to visit with some volunteers that have written successful grants. This was very instructive. Nothing makes me want to learn something more than being told I can’t.

Even though I have written grants in the past and participated in research projects under other grants, writing for social projects seems quite different. The amount of money involved is much less than I have dealt with in the past, but the people administering the grant making programs seem to act like pashas approving funding as though it were out of their largesse rather than an integral part of achieving the goals of their organizations. Yet, I realize I am more likely to be productive if I just learn what hoops to jump through. If I were in charge, I would get those people out of their shiny Land Rovers with the organizations’ insignias on the sides and hold them a lot more accountable for outcomes. Even over the time I have been here, I have seen a lot of fancy equipment purchased with grant money lying broken and idle. Nevertheless, I am not in charge and if I want to do anything I am going to have to get with the program.

A few of the volunteers from other towns in the region are coming to stay at my apartment so they can attend the festivities in Korca. We plan to share a traditional dinner as best as we can assemble it from the available ingredients. Some of them are pretty good cooks and adept at substitutions, such as using high-fat yoghurt called “salce kosi” for cream cheese. My own cooking ability would need a Christmas miracle to make it palatable, so I will probably limit myself to helping out where I can, like washing dishes and trying to keep the place warm.

This has been a challenge. The double layer of plastic which is held in place by masking tape so as not to damage the paint keeps blowing off in the draft that comes around the window frames. I was going to put a curtain across my door frame, but the neighborhood dog, Ilky, likes to sleep in front of my door on cold nights, probably because of the heat leaking out, as well as the slices of bread I give him whenever I bring home a loaf from the bakery (35 cents a loaf, fresh baked, 24 hours a day). I did buy a small bag of dry dog food to give him as treats (I haven’t found real dog treats in stores here yet), but he refuses to eat that stuff. He’d rather ransack the trash for edibles. I’d invite him in but first, it is not that much warmer inside than outside, and, second, that would also entail inviting in all the fauna that infests Albanian dogs, which, for the most part, live outside, whatever the weather.

I know that the ski season finally opened back in Idaho the weekend before Christmas. Not to be outdone, I headed to our local ski hill on Saturday with Dr. Isufi. As I walked over to meet him at his office in the early afternoon, it began to snow heavily. I figured we would cancel our trip and, maybe, just go for coffee. I was wrong. In retrospect, I realize that the roads in Albania are so bad that drifting snow weighs little in the decision to make a trip.

His son, who has a car, was recruited to give us a ride to the ski hill which is usually about a half hour drive. He drove slowly, a bad sign since Albanians almost never drive slowly. We only got to the village of Boboshtica, about half way, before his car lost all traction. We helped him get his car turned around and, as he drove off back to Korca, Isufi pointed up the hill and said, “We walk”.

We trudged up the 10-15% grade as the blizzard blew in our faces. We passed four wheel drives that were off the side of the road. Isufi thumped his chest and said, “Ah, fresh air”. After about an hour, we saw Maca’s old, beat up, white Mercedes van emerging from the cloud up ahead. He had chains on the rear tires and I thought he might be heading home. Wrong again.

We helped him turn the van around and drove up the last few miles to the ski area. It was slow going. We stopped several times to adjust the chains and to help other vehicles, including a Jeep wagon that had gone into a ditch. This helpful, community spirit was partly due to traditional Albanian traits, but also due to the fact that it is barely a one lane road and if you don’t help the car stuck ahead, you don’t go either.

At last we got to the ski area, Bigel, near the village of Dardhe. As we warmed up in front of the fireplace and drank hot, mountain tea, I saw that Kristof and Fredi and a couple of others I didn’t know were busy finishing various projects and getting the place spruced up to open for business. Isufi asked me if I wanted to ski, but it was getting dark, it was still storming outside (there was lightning and thunder and it had begun to hail), and I didn’t want to be playing while the others were busy working. There was a lot to do.

We worked for several hours. The day lodge looks pretty functional and it will serve for the season, but there are obviously a lot of future projects. Credit Suisse can never pull the plug on this ski area like they did at Tamarack in Idaho, because this is a strictly pay-as-you-go construction with lots of sweat-equity and recycled materials. Whether or not he gets his grant, I have no doubt that Dr. Isufi will make it accessible for local disabled people, although transportation seems problematic.

I assumed we would camp out in the day lodge for the night and return in the daylight, but suddenly, the tools were put away, the fire was doused, the floor swept up and we got into the van for the drive back to Korca. As Maca carefully maneuvered the van down the steep, icy road in the dark, they began to sing traditional ballads for which Korca is renowned. They all know the words by heart.

Out of Site

Jani, one of my counterparts at the Directorate of Public Health, tells me that it always snows in Korca the first week in December. The last Wednesday of November, however, was unseasonably warm and sunny, as I headed to Tirana for a medical appointment, a meeting at the US Embassy and Thanksgiving dinner at the Ambassador’s home the next day.

The security officer for the Peace Corps, had visited Korca on Tuesday. I met with her after class and was briefed on concerns regarding demonstrations in the capital over continuing disputes regarding the election last June. She spent the night visiting her family, so I was able to hitch a ride with her to Tirana. Two other volunteers also came along. It sure beat the bus.

I got to Tirana about noon, tried to get the key for the room I had rented through the internet with a family near the Blocku district. I was told to come back later, so I walked across town to the Peace Corps office to have an ear infection checked out by the PA who is our Medical Officer. Then I walked to the US Embassy for a meeting. After that it was back for the key. On my way, I passed the 16th Annual International Trade Fair that was being held in the Palace of Congress building, sponsored by the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Energy. It was lit up in the evening, there was music coming from inside, and there was a fair size crowd outside among all the new Mercedes, Audis and other cars on display. I paid my 100 lek entrance fee and went inside.

Inside hundreds of corporate exhibitors displayed their products in booths on the 4 floors of the hall. They were from within and around Albania and promoted everything from high tech machinery to wedding dresses. It was not something one would expect in a country with a large contingent of serving Peace Corps volunteers, although I realize that this is the engine that produces real change in a developing country.















The next day, Thanksgiving morning, there was a touch football game between the volunteers and the Marines from the Embassy. The Marines trounced the PC team. We all agreed we would have been discomfited had they lost. Late in the afternoon I walked to the “Ridge”, where the American diplomats have their homes in a secure, manicured community. I was let in and shown to the Ambassador’s residence, where I joined Ambassador Withers, 5 other volunteers and a few Marines and Embassy staff for a traditional dinner. Albania has turkeys, but they look like the wild ones back in the foothills in Idaho, and are mostly dark meat. Our bird was obviously American and perfectly cooked: served with mashed potatoes and gravy, bean casserole, cranberry sauce, carrots and broccoli, stuffing, and assorted pastries for dessert.

Because Albania has a series of holidays at the end of November (Little Bajram- a Muslim commemoration of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son at God’s command, Independence Day and Liberation Day), I had the next 5 days off and toured around southern Albania, staying with other volunteers. This network of hosts is one of the great perks of Peace Corps service. In Albania, they are mainly from my cohort that began service together almost 9 months ago at staging in Philadelphia, but I understand it is available in any country with an active Peace Corps program.

My itinerary took me to Tepelene, with its mineral springs and water bottling plants; Kelcyre, which has ruins from an Illyrian village; Gjirokaster, with its steep cobbled streets winding up the hill to the Ottoman castle; Saranda, the Mediterranean resort city with hundreds of new hotels lining the shoreline; and Butrint, the ancient Greek, Roman and Venetian port city. The weather was mostly sunny and pleasant. The roads wound through the mountains, through the vineyards along the whitish-teal Vjosa River near Permet and Kelcyre, the persimmon trees among the rock strewn hillsides along the green Drinos River near Gjirokaster and the orange groves among the limestone hills along the coast near Saranda. The mountain ridges rise 2000 ft above the valleys. A group from my cohort tried to bushwhack across two of them between Gjirokaster and Permet (about 10 miles) over the weekend. They got lost in the snow, but were saved by a villager who led them to safety, although far short of their goal. Many of you are probably surprised I was not with them.


Butrint was the highlight of the trip and not just because my hosts in Saranda made banana pancakes for breakfast on Monday. It is a national park that has extensive, partially excavated ruins as well as a large nature reserve around a lagoon with a variety of birds, especially in the winter. Since this is the off season, there were not many people. We walked for hours along the self guided path through the ruins and on a trail along the water. That night we had dinner at a popular local seafood restaurant in Saranda to celebrate several birthdays among my cohorts. We had dessert and coffee at a café on the bay with the lights of Corfu on the other side of the narrow strait between Albania and the Greek island. We could see the boot heel of Italy in the distance across the Ionian Sea.

When I got home on Tuesday a stiff cold wind blew gray clouds across the valley. I saw my landlord’s son and learned his father had suffered a heart attack the day before and was in the hospital. I put on a heavier coat and walked over to visit. He was resting, with his family around him. They do not have a CCU at the hospital in Korca. He shared a room with two other patients. There were no monitors, no electric beds. It reminded me of the hospital where I had my tonsils out about 55 years ago. He had two IV’s going and I did not recognize the names of the medications that were written on the sides of the bottles. As I headed back up the hill to my apartment, a light rain began to fall; the temperature dropping as the twilight turned into night.

Europe on 30,000 Lek a Day

It is a 10 hour bus ride from Korca to Athens, that plus at least an hour at the border crossing. You have to get out of the bus in the cold and wind and stand beside your open luggage while the Greek customs officers inspect. My American passport gets me a warm welcome and my bag a cursory glance. The Albanians get a scowl and a thorough hand inspection. There are many confiscations. The Albanians shrug this off and get back on the bus. They all know this routine, yet no one asked me to help them get anything across.

As soon as you cross the border you notice things are different. While the vegetation is the same, the houses in the towns are in better repair, particularly the roofs which have few broken or missing tiles. There are few buildings standing partially constructed awaiting further funds to restart work. The roads are in good repair and there is much less roadside litter. The most striking thing, however, is the absence of the concrete bunkers which are scattered everywhere throughout Albania, particularly in border regions.

The first rest stop a couple of hours into the country reveals another glaring difference. Prices are in euros and not lek, the Albanian currency, and they are not cheap. Coffee costs 3 euros (about $4.50) not 50 lek (about 55 cents). Dinner at a moderately priced restaurant is 30-40 euros, while the best Albanian restaurant is only a fifth of that. A hotel room costs more for a night than I pay for my apartment for a month.

Yet Albanians wait in long, slow moving lines at the Greek consulate to obtain a visa and willingly endure the scorn of the border guards. This is because there is opportunity in Greece that is non-existent back home. One of my Peace Corps cohorts explained to me that her landlady in Albania could make 40 euros a day cleaning houses or hotel rooms in Athens compared with 5 euros a day in Albania, assuming she could find work. Her Albanian house is large and well furnished, but in Athens she lives in a room of a hotel under construction (presumably she had either contacts with or paid off the construction crew- maybe both) so she could save as much money as possible. My friend made the mistake of visiting her landlady while in Athens. This was a mistake because her landlady insisted on taking her out for dinner, and, being Albanian, also insisted on treating. I am beginning to think that one needs a signed note from a doctor to avoid being fed by Albanians, but I am not sure that would suffice.

A group of volunteers took part in the Athens marathon. This was on the course of the original marathon 2500 years ago when an Athenian soldier ran the 26 miles to announce the Greek victory in the Battle of Marathon. That soldier died from his effort. While none of the volunteers succumbed to that fate, most were hobbling the next day with blisters, bursitis, tendonitis and muscle ache. I provided some therapy and my usual sympathetic ear, and then went touring with some of those who were still able to walk.

It was brilliant sunshine and about 70 degrees. Athens is the San Diego of Europe, except instead of the historical culture being Spanish a few hundred years in the past, it is Greek and a few thousand years old. The photo with this post is of the Acropolis as seen from the Temple of Olympian Zeus. That temple was built by the Romans, who occupied Athens when the ancient city was as remote historically from them as the Crusades are from us. No doubt Roman teenagers complained about having to study Greek because it was so much “before their time”.

The museums in Athens are amazing. The New Acropolis Museum is particularly striking. It is built amid an excavation. Open areas and glass floors incorporate this into the design of the building. The display of art and architecture gives a real sense of the Acropolis and the Parthenon, in particular, and is a strong argument to the British to return the Elgin Marbles.

The walk to the top of the Acropolis was awe inspiring. There were lots of tourists, even in the off season. There were plenty of guards, too, to keep them on the approved paths and mind their behavior. It was such a contrast to Albania, where you wander on your own and knock on a door down the street to get keys to historic structures. I doubt if Athens was that unsupervised even in Roman times.

Athens is beautiful and clean and has all the modern amenities. Most signs are in English as well as Greek and it is easy to find your way around. Public transit is particularly impressive. An all day ticket is only 3 euros and covers buses, trams and a metro (subway) that is one of the best I have ever seen. Its construction required extensive archeological excavation, much of it displayed throughout the system making it seem more of a trip through a museum than a ride to a destination. We watched the changing of the guard, as they high stepped in their skirts and tasseled shoes (the traditional uniform from the Greek War of Independence from the Ottomans almost 200 years ago), at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, adjacent to the Parliament building. We walked through the National Gardens among flower blossoms and orange trees full of ripe fruit, the old open markets, the chic neighborhoods, and, then, in the late afternoon, rode the metro to Piraeus, the seaport of Athens. As the sun set over the Strait of Corinth, we strolled along the circular quay admiring the hundreds of yachts at berth.

The bus back to Korca left at 6 PM. I slept well during the ride through the night in spite of the music blaring on the PA system. I was awakened at one stop by a Greek policeman wanting to see my passport. He smiled when he saw it and told me he had friends in Texas, although he could not remember which city. He asked me why I would want to visit Albania. I explained that I was a volunteer with the Peace Corps assigned to Korca. I didn’t bother to tell him that I was happy to be back among people who spoke Shqip and where clarinets and ballads in a Balkan rhythm lulled you to sleep.

Language Refresher Training

My Peace Corps group had a mandatory meeting in Pogradec last week. Pogradec is a city on the southwest shore of Lake Ohrid, about an hour bus ride northeast of Korca. This is an incredibly beautiful mountain lake between Macedonia and Albania. If Lake Tahoe was surrounded by cities and villages with Mediterranean style tiled roof buildings it might look like Lake Ohrid.

It was sunny, but cold and windy. The space heaters in the rooms didn’t work too well, but that is pretty much the case throughout Albania. I have broken out my long underwear and down sleeping bag and have covered the windows in my apartment with a double layer of plastic sheeting. I plan to put a heavy curtain over my door frame since you can see around the frame and the wind whips right on through the cracks. My landlord gave me another space heater that runs on either electric or gas (God bless him). At the hotel in Pogradec, I sat near the heaters and wore sweaters and my coat at times (something I don’t remember having to do at any hotel around Lake Tahoe).

In the evening, after the day’s session, we walked in a tight group along the stone promenade on the lakeshore to a one of several good restaurants in Pogradec. The owner seemed very happy to see us, maybe because business is slow in the off-season or because he had lived in Michigan for a number of years. He offered us a discount “American steak” dinner. It was about $8, not bad for a t-bone. My group treated an American missionary from Pennsylvania who has worked with the Roma (gypsy) community in Pogradec for decades. She talked to us about the problem of human trafficking, not the most cheerful dinner conversation. Guilt is not my favorite side-dish.

Speaking of “downers”, we have lost about 10% of my original group of volunteers to early termination (Peace Corps speak for going home before completing the two years of service) due to illness or personal reasons. I don’t know if this is high or low or about average for a Peace Corps group, at this point in the 27 month term of service, although I have read that overall about 1 in 3 ET. Some were good friends from pre-service training, and I miss them. One was a pre-med student from Virginia who had put off medical school to serve in Albania. She had hoped to work in a rural area, but had been assigned to one of the bigger cities and wasn’t happy. Another was an engineer and my go-to person for computer and other technical problems. She had taken ill and went home to recuperate. I have heard she wants to return, but may not be allowed. Also, the couple from the group ahead of mine who were serving in Korca, recently left for medical and personal reasons and I am now the only Peace Corps volunteer in my city (when I first got here there were 5). I was looking forward to getting to know them as they seemed interesting, as people, and effective, as volunteers. She is from Chicago and taught English at the university. He is from Florida and did community development with the Korca city hall.

I was very impressed with the language ability of some of my cohort. They already seem to have mastered the Albanian language. One was even able to do Hamlet’s soliloquy in Shqip! I try to study regularly and almost daily read the Top Chanel-Shqip news on-line, referring to my Oxford Albanian-English dictionary. Sometimes, though, the words just don’t stick, and I have to look up the same word more than once for the same article. We were divided into groups based on our level. I am in the middle group, meeting the requisites of the Peace Corps, but not much more.

Some people have a real flare for languages, but not me. I am thinking of asking some of my counterparts who speak English with me to talk more in Shqip and may also post language learning material on the walls of my apartment (at minimum it will provide some insulation). Maybe I should put a language text under my pillow so I can learn by osmosis.

I am not sure how much I got out of the 4 day, intensive training in terms of increased facility with the language. I did enjoy seeing the members of my service group, especially the ones who are assigned in the north who I have not seen since pre-service training in Elbasan. It was exciting to hear about their sites and activities and commiserate about plumbing, heating, scorpions, bedbugs, cracks in the walls, leaks in the ceilings, and adventures in cultural misunderstanding.

They also helped me by trying out my new board game, “Furgon Driver”. You can probably guess where the inspiration came from. I drew the game board with crayons on a piece of cardboard. I cut the playing tokens from a hazel nut branch. Someone gave me the deck of cards which I wrote on to customize it for the game, and I cut the “perk” and “hazard” cards from computer paper. The only thing I paid for was the die, which was about 25 cents. I envision the game coming with a CD of regional Albanian music to be played in the background. Since anyone who has spent much time in an Albanian bus or furgon, already has that running in his or her head, we omitted that detail. The game played reasonably well and I got some good ideas for improvement. If I ever get it made, you know what your “crummy souvenir” from Albania is likely to be.

Korca has had lots of rain this month as well as the cold. Just above freezing and cars can be seen around town sporting a layer of snow, presumably after driving in from the surrounding mountains. My laundry is taking forever to dry. I now string it inside to see if I can get it dry in less than a week.

I am planning my first vacation out of the country for a few days next week. A group of Peace Corps, Albania, volunteers is running in the Athens marathon and I am going along for the trip, but have no intention of running or even walking. I suppose I will be called upon to help with first aid and post race therapy. I am looking forward to touring the sites and, the weather site on the web predicts temperatures between 70 and 80.

There is a very modern coach service on Albatrans direct to Athens from Korca. It only costs 35 euro and leaves several times a day. With my American passport, it is so simple and easy for me to make a reservation and go. Like most Americans, I take it for granted and rarely consider this right of American citizenship that allows me to travel without difficulty to so much of the world. My Albanian friends have to wait in long lines at the Greek consulate to get a visa. There is some irony that Albanians, once a part of the Ottoman Empire which issued some of the world’s first passports to its taxpaying citizens allowing travel throughout the Califate and abroad, now face hurdles to travel almost anywhere out of their country. With high unemployment and some towns with almost none for its young people, some resort to illegally sneaking into Greece or Italy to find work. American visas are granted by random selection of a limited number from the thousands of applications. Albanians call this “winning the lottery”. I have been told there are well trod paths marked by cairns through the mountains on the Greek border. I wonder what the border crossing will be like on the bus.

Funeral

Late Tuesday afternoon the nurses of the health education unit asked me if I would help them with a project. That is my primary assignment so, of course, I quickly agreed. Wednesday was National Mammography Day. That morning they had received materials from Tirana; posters, flyers, pamphlets, pink ribbons with safety pins, t-shirts and a large banner. They wanted to organize a march downtown to promote mammography and breast cancer awareness. I’m a mammal, men can get breast cancer, too, (although I have heard it said that the screening machine would be less vise like if men had to endure it), and this is what most Peace Corps health education volunteers are supposed to do. I may be old, but I was on it.

It might seem like this was late notice, but in Albania things usually get planned at the last minute. In the early evening I walked over to the house where the Preca Society lives and asked the head of the school if some of the students could be excused from class for about an hour to join in. I also phoned the health education Peace Corps volunteer in Bilisht to see if she would help. She comes to the Preka School to teach exercise and supervise community activity service that is part of the curriculum. She said it was right up her alley and she would be happy to help.

I walked to Dr. Isufi’s clinic where I work on Wednesday mornings and figured I would leave a bit early to attend the midday rally. When I got there the metal garage door was pulled down over the entrance. At the home adjacent there was the top of a casket by the door and a hand written sign with Dr. Isufi’s father, Hasan’s name on it. I had known that he was mortally ill and he had died during the night. I walked back to my apartment, put on a better shirt, a tie and a dark pair of pants. Then I returned to the Isufi home to pay a condolence call.

I went into the sitting room where the men were seated. I shook hands around, told Dr. Isufi how sad I was to learn about his father’s death and sat down next to the man I had met in the village we had walked to when we went on the lake excursion. Women were seated in a different room, but, after a while, Mrs. Isufi came in to greet the men. I stayed about half an hour, then left to make room for others waiting in the hall and yard to pay their respects. Dr. Isufi asked if I would come back at noon.

I walked over to the post office to pay my electric bill. The line was 10 deep with people out to the street. After a few minutes the lady at the window got up to take a break, so I gave up for the third time in two days and walked up the street to the cathedral steps where the march was to assemble. It was 10 minutes before the scheduled time and no one was there.

I walked inside to visit with the older man who supervises candle sales in the lobby of the cathedral. I had been introduced to him by a previous volunteer, and, even though we can’t converse very much, he has a very pleasant demeanor. I bought a couple of candles and lit one for Dr. Isufi’s father and one for a couple of friends back home who are fighting serious illness. When I walked back outside into the sunlight, the Preka students were walking up, right on schedule, but still no nurses.

Not to worry, counseled the volunteer from Bilisht. She had done something with an NGO a few weeks prior and they were an hour late for the event. Sure enough, a few minutes late, but pretty prompt in Albanian terms, the nurses walked up and passed out ribbons, t-shirts and flyers. Some pictures were taken, a couple of the nurses bravely strode out into the traffic and the march was off.

We walked about ½ a mile to where the banner was stretched between lamp posts by the old national bank building. Flyers were passed to women we encountered as we walked. At the front of the bank, more pictures were taken, a camera man from Korca TV showed up, and the event was complete. The students walked back to school and I headed back to the Isufi home.

More than 200 people were gathered in the street outside. There were three buses and several cars. I was hailed by Maca and Kristof, from the ski hill project, and I rode with them in Maca’s car as we followed the hearse to the cemetery. The large, crowded Korca cemetery is just south of the city. We walked to the center where a new grave had been dug. The cleric, a baba, said a few words and threw in a handful of dirt. Other men and women did likewise, then the grave diggers filled in the hole, and, led by the family and baba, we all walked over to a large restaurant near the graveyard.

Apparently nothing significant takes place in Albania without eating. Everyone attending was served a 4 course, sit down meal. Typically, it was much more than anyone could possibly eat. Although there were bottles of raki on every table and bottled water and soft drinks, there was no beer served. I am not sure why this was. Maybe beer is considered inappropriate for funerals. Dr. Isufi’s family is Muslim, but they are Bektashi. This is a liberal sect of Islam, based in Albania. They allow alcohol and have no dietary restrictions, and, in the same vein, put no limitations on women. I am not sure if they are the U-U equivalent in the Islamic world, but they are at least the UCC.

After the meal, the baba said a few more words, stood up and shook hands with the family. Then we all formed a line and shook hands and exchanged a few words in turn. Dr. Isufi said I should come to clinic in the morning. Walking home, past the row of stands that line the road approaching the cemetery, where they sell bouquets of artificial flowers that are preferred for memorials here, through the neighborhood of 5 story, communist-block apartments, I relished the warm, autumn afternoon sun after two weeks of cold and rain.

Trimester Report

The end of September is harvest time in Albania. In the US, the fall harvest often results in friends or neighbors leaving bags of zucchini on your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and running away. Albanian gardens seem more productive and Albanians are more direct and aggressive in passing on their excess. They bring 20 lb bags of apples to you at work. If you visit their home for any reason, plan to leave with at least two bags full of apples, pomegranates the size of large grapefruit, persimmons, grapes (green and red), figs, quince, walnuts, hazelnuts, and, of course, squash. It doesn’t matter if your arms are already full of books or papers or baggage, and, of course, in Albania it is a matter of honor.

“Please, I really can’t accept all this. I live alone and it is way too much for me.”

“What? How can I bear to face my family if you do not accept? Please, take two more pomegranates.”

“It is very generous of you, but I can hardly walk. Please, no thank you.”

“I cannot show my face at home if you refuse. Would you have my children be fatherless? Do you insist that they be left destitute? (…pause for effect as my ignominy sinks in) Here, take another bag of grapes? Do you like jam? Homemade from our black fig tree, this jar is too small, take two. Do you drink raki?”

Luckily, another Peace Corps volunteer lived nearby and I was able to struggle to her house. She was at home, but not feeling well. While she was resting, I left one of the bags in her kitchen. It was sneaky, but it was a matter of survival, and I was certain she would have done the same to me.

As I trudged up the hill to my apartment, I met a neighbor family with whom I am friendly. I was very grateful that they would accept two pomegranates, which probably weighed 2 lbs. a piece. When I got home, I put the ripe stuff in the fridge and what needed to ripen on the table. I have found that when I am a guest at meals, if I just say I am too old to eat so much or simply that “I am not Albanian”, it gets both a laugh and me out of a heaping refill of my dish. So far, I haven’t figured out a way to comfortably and effectively decline the bags of produce. Maybe I should just learn to can.

The end of September also is time for the first Trimester Report, required of all Peace Corps volunteers. You probably think I am on some kind of extended, low budget, government sponsored vacation, but I am actually expected to do some work, and not only that, to report my activities three times a year. The Peace Corps does many things to help developing countries around the world, but in Albania the activities are in three areas: community development, teaching English and health education. Each volunteer is assigned to one of these. Even so, we are encouraged to work in other, secondary areas if we have time and the opportunity presents itself. In addition there are four initiative areas: HIV/AIDS, information and communication technology, women and gender development, and youth development. Finally, in addition to helping development by developing local capacity by training individuals in countries where the Peace Corps has been invited, there are two additional goals: to help Americans learn about the people of the country where you are assigned, and, to help the people of the country where you work to learn about Americans. To some extent, this blog is part of my work on the first of these additional goals.

My work activities have developed over the first couple of months in Korca. I showed up at 8 AM, the first Monday, at my primary assignment with the health education nurses in the Directorate of Public Health for the Korca region. There are 4 young women in this group, mostly nurses, who teach a variety of lessons on health topics, rotating through the local schools, primary grades through high school. Some of the younger volunteers with this type of assignment go along with the nurses and help teach these classes. At my age and with my background this would be a poor fit. Volunteers are allowed quite a bit of leeway as to their specific work, so after a couple of awkward weeks, we mutually agreed to limit our work to few mornings a week of translating health education materials which I have access to on the web (through my prior work) from English into Albanian . As we do this, we discuss the topic, so it becomes kind of a seminar on the various topics. It also serves to help the nurses learn English. Some of the nurses have an interest in Spanish, and since I have some ability in that language, we work on that as well. Of course, all this translating also helps me with my Shqip.

One day a week, after I finish with the nurses, I work with a physician who works as the hygienist/epidemiologist for the department. He is interested in work and environmental topics, something more up my alley. We did a project for an EU photo contest of work site safety, visiting work sites in the Korca region and taking pictures. We submitted an entry, although it was unofficial since Albania is not yet a member of the EU. After that, we worked on a grant proposal to try to obtain equipment for quantitative work site environmental testing for respirable dust particles, temperature, humidity, air flow, light, noise, carbon monoxide, hydrogen sulfide and combustible gases. This would greatly increase his capacity to do meaningful inspections and gather data to help meet work health and safety requirements for EU membership. The first shot at funding was submitted a week ago and we should hear a response in a couple of weeks. Whether or not we get it, we are both going to a Peace Corps course on project development and management in December that will be held in Tirana.

Two days a week, I work with a group of lab technicians, mostly on learning English, although I do try to incorporate related health topics when I can. I have two other students for English, local teenagers who were tutored by previous volunteers who asked me to continue with them. One is a 17 year old boy with a congenital visual impairment, the other the 15 year old daughter of one of my neighbors.

Two other days, I work in a rehabilitation clinic with Dr. Isufi, who I have previously mentioned. He speaks some English and has internet access, so I have been helping him get connected and identify resources as well as working directly with patients. The other clinic I work with is run by an NGO, initially started by the Anglican Church, but now with sponsorship from a number of Christian denominations, mainly from the US. They work with the physically disabled in the region through a therapy clinic at their center and home health visits. I do a seminar with the nurse/therapists on relevant topics once a week at the clinic and often go with them on home visits or see patients with them in their clinic.

I also work in a Maltese missionary school that teaches at the high school level in English. While this is a private school, it is much less expensive than the usual Albanian private school, has no special deals to get admitted, is scholastically demanding and has a great record of placing graduates in good universities in Albania and around the world where they have done well. The society runs schools in Albania, Poland and Cuba and does other projects in developing countries. It is called the Preca Society, founded by St. George Preca, of Malta. It is a lay society, although its members live communally and take a vow of celibacy. I teach the required life skills class to the 88 kids in level one (tenth grade). I also have offered an elective in the “scientific method” which will consist of learning how to do science projects. If all goes according to plan, the school will host the first science fair in Albania next spring.

Finally, two afternoons a week I work with the Aviation Interest Club at the American Library in Korca. This is a group of about a dozen teens who want to learn more about airplanes. It has been adopted by a chapter of the EAA from Albuquerque and has also received support from pilots and friends of mine from Idaho and Nevada. The library undoubtedly now has the best aviation collection in the country where most kids have never seen an airplane up close. We have a flight simulator program on a computer in the library, and since flying involves learning English (which is the language of international flight control) and most licensed pilots have to pass a medical exam and maintain good health to continue to legally fly and the majority of the teens are girls, we cover most of the initiative areas as well as have fun.

I try to be active in the community, meeting many of my neighbors and people around Korca. I help pick up trash in the yard around my apartment building. I give treats to my neighbor’s dog. I shop in the local markets, where I know several of the merchants and speak well enough to converse a bit. I am a regular at concerts and exhibitions at the cultural center in Korca, and, as I have previously mentioned, do my morning constitutional walks up the mountain with my fellow Korcans, go on excursions with Dr. Isufi’s patients and help out with maintenance and construction projects at the local ski area. All that, plus my continued relationship and visits with my host family and others back in Thane, help with the third Peace Corps goal.

So that is what one, of the almost 8000 volunteers worldwide, is doing in one placement, in one country, of the 76 where the Peace Corps currently works. I hope that dispelled your suspicions. By the way, do you like pomegranates?