Tirana starts her day
early as fruit vendors set up their posts, shop keepers open their stores, dogs
await a meal from Romas collecting plastic in the trash, and the stream of
people begins to flow against the current of the traffic. Italian, Greek, and
Turkish restaurants can be found due to the cultural influence of these close
neighbors. Many bakeries fill the streets with the aroma of fresh bread to entice
you. There are endless vendors of fresh fruit willing to sell at a fair price.
Many stand on street corners selling trinkets, mints, candies, cigarettes, and
gum to the crowds of people walking to and from their daily activities. Like
most cities Tirana is a busy one. Cars line the roads like lights on an
airstrip. People bustle around, some hastily and some just out to enjoy the
day. Though busy, Tirana is not loud like a New York, or enormously tall like
Shanghai. Tirana is a confident, comfortable city. I compare it to a morning
cup of hot chocolate, with a side of fresh sweet bread in a warm café gazing
out the window, as the sun pierces through the morning haze illuminating the
dew hanging from the trees and cables like crystal drops of honey.
Outside
Tirana the periphery is full of more traditional homes with a landscape full of
farms, green and gold. In the mountains you will find the remnants of times
past decaying like the old regime that placed them there. There are entire
villages filled with structures built by the old communist government. Tall
cement housings about 5 floors high each stacked on the other separated by a
big cement slab. They were built to house as many families as possible. There was a large cement house in every
village, always of the same design; a gray tall brick home with a pyramid roof
that housed the village leaders. There were many factories for mining and
processing minerals in which the residents would work. These factories are all
but ruined and corroding now. They are broken down giants bleeding orange and
red as their rusty blood streams down their bodies into the scarred mountain
side. They are the deceased, decomposing medley of a failed dictatorship.
Driving through the mountains up towards Kosovo is like a living history lesson
as different sites hold gems of a time not so long ago.
Upon
arriving in to Kosovo, the periphery was filled with unfinished buildings and
homes. Kosovo is still struggling to pick itself up economically. The city has
a different look than Tirana. The buildings are different designs. The library
for example, looks as if it were out of a Lord of the Rings movie. Almost
everyone in Kosovo is Muslim. The Islamic faith is much stronger in Kosovo than
in Albania. The relationship between the Serbs and the Kosovars is still
delicate for many people. The Serbian War is still fresh in the minds and
hearts of many. Many Kosovars lost their families to Serbians who are still
very much alive, and so are still hurt by those memories. Perhaps it is easier
to forgive a dead man or a dead generation, than a living one.
Albanian
people are very friendly and inviting. They are extremely hospitable and
generous to foreigners. Upon arriving to Albania I found myself stuck in the airport.
A young waiter kept coming up to me to see if I was ok or needed something to
eat. He later offered his phone for me to call someone; only, I had no numbers
of anyone to call. The people I would be staying with found me and took me to
my apartment, which was a room on the side of their house. Immediately they had
me fed, gave me a temporary phone, and got me all ready to rest the day away
after my journey. They would come in periodically to feed me fresh cooked meals
and check up on me. This is not what I paid for, thus I felt undeserving of
such compassionate treatment. I only pay rent and utilities, but I felt like I
was being taken care of. After chatting with a national Albanian about his culture
and people, he told me about their national ethical code. It is called “Besa.” Essentially
it is a code of integrity. The people believe that it is most important to live
by one’s word even unto death. This includes an importance in taking care of and
protecting guests. During the Holocaust the Albanians took care of their native
Jews and welcomed in many refugees fleeing the Nazi Regime. He said that the
Albanians would have protected the Jews to the end. It is a fierce loyalty they
have to keeping their word and protecting those entrusted to their hospitality.
The
Language ended up being way more difficult than I thought. It itself is a
historical relic. Now that Latin is dead, Shqip, or Albanian is the last Illyrian
language. It has conjugations like Spanish but it also has many more tenses
than Spanish and English. The food is very Mediterranean. There are lots of
pastas, soups, breads, oils, pizzas, sausages and meats, fish, and fresh fruits
and vegetables. I personally have enjoyed the salads, fresh olives and olive
oil, fresh breads, and rich pastas. They also have many sweets like baklava
that are alluring to the senses.
I
was confused to see some gestures are backwards here in Albania. For example in
America the shaking of the head is a gesture for “no,” and a nodding of the
head for “yes.” Here in Albania it is backwards. The gesture for “yes” is a
shaking of the head and “no” is a nodding. It is quite common to go to the
local cafés and bars at night to end the day socializing with friends. There
are also a number of clubs to go dancing.
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