A good week!

I wrote this on July, 14 2009

I have the best job in the world, granted I poop/shower over a glorified hole, wash my clothes in the same bucket I use to flush my toilet, don’t speak the language very well, and live on the 5^th floor of a building that may crumble at the slightest tectonic plate shift…I couldn’t be happier! Of course there are plenty of days when I just want to go home, play with knuckles, hang out with family and some friends, look Sarah in her eyes, and just not be in Albania…but today was one of those days that makes “service” worthwhile.

Today was fantastic. No, this entire week was fantastic. The 3 goals stated in the Peace Corps act are; to help the people of interested countries in meeting their needs for trained men and women, to help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served, and to help promoted a better understanding of other peoples on the part of all Americans. Any of these goals that are achieved are considered work for me, that’s right, if I just be myself around Albanians and write home with stories of my day to day, that is considered a commendable days work. I personally believe that I am doing a prodigious job at the latter two objectives. Sure I do not do work much at the actual agency (Bashkia Rubik) I am assigned to (currently, my mayor says I will have more work than I know what to do with come September), but it is also summer time in Albania and few Shqiptares do any work either! Did I mention I had a good week!

I guess I will start with the beginning of my week even though today was probable the best day I have had (skip ahead if you are so busy you just cannot stand to read my ridiculously in depth description of how I spend my time)

Wednesday is basically when my week started. I had a meeting in Tirana for a project I some of us in the north are helping with in association with World Vision, UNV, Vodafone, and the winner of big brother Albania (how exciting, a Shqiptare celebrity, kidding of course.) After the meeting I went to Fruse Kuja with Alex because her host family (she is one of two PCV who live with a host family because she had some problems with her first land lord 1 week into service) had invited us to go to the beach near Lezhe and I would never miss an opportunity for a free ride to the beach. Alex somehow has the luck to attach herself to excellent families. Her new host mother housed a PCV two years ago and spent 6months in England so she speaks some English. She is probably the most progressive Albanian I have ever met. She and her husband are like a teenage couple, they have been married for 20 years. This is extremely unusual in Albania, members of her community tell her that she has “shume torpe” (a lot of shame) because she holds her husband’s hand and kisses him in public, not in a gross way, but shit they are married. They don’t care and relish at the chance to hang out with Americans. I had a great time just hanging out at the beach and taking in the scenery. We went to a beach that is outside of a small village so it was basically undeveloped. Sitting there on the beach, drinking a beer and eating a nectarine, Alex and I couldn’t help but laugh about the fact that we signed up for Peace Corps in order to suffer a little bit, and here we were sitting on an awesome beach on the Adriatic Sea, what a great job!! Like I have said before things are not exactly easy here, we are thousands of miles from home in a strange country with broken infrastructure and a culture drastically different than our own. My point is that, I guess I expected something different.

Sunday of that week, I was invited by the summer camp that is conducted at the culture center in front of my house to attend a field trip, to help. The field trip was to a village close by that has an artificial lake that is made possible by a communist era 1957 damn. I don’t have many details on this day, but it was great. I hung out with about 18 15year old kids playing games and swimming in the lake. Stephanie (my site mate) and I introduced the group to peanut butter, which had mixed reactions. The kids are probably the best in my town and deserved some R&R since they had been helping with the younger kids at the camp, all of them speak some English and it was great to get a chance to hang out with some really good kids. Of course most of them are girls because the boys here (quna) are treated like princes and for the most part are little bastards. In any event I think we recruited some participants for our Outdoor Ambassadors club and maybe even for my youth volunteer group. Yes, hanging out with good kids at a beautiful lake playing games and swimming in a lake counted as work for me!

I am currently fixing a Shqiptares computer and that is as frustrating as dealing with French people (I like most French people but they are not very nice to foreigners, something that many people in America are starting to adapt, so the writing in this may be shit.

Today was great. I had the choice of either going to Tirana (the capital city) where a fellow PCV and I had two meetings; one with a professor of Geographical Information Sciences/Systems and another with a minister in the national government about a project that was started by a now COSed (close of service) PCV who started an adventure tourism project that maps hiking tours throughout Albania using GPS and GIS software. The project is Paul’s baby, but now that he is no longer a PCV it has been left in the capable hands of Tauschia and myself (along with a few supporting PCV actors). Not to bore anyone too much, but the project in a nutshell is; we search out and take a GPS on various uncharted trails throughout the Albanian countryside that conclude at a destination (a castle, ruin, city/village, something of aesthetic/historic/cultural significance, etc.), process the data into a usable GPS trail with points of interest (water sources, views, homes of people we met, places to sleep/camp, etc.), write a description of the trail and post it on the project website for use (www.bunkertrails.org). Not to toot any type of horn but this is not easy, the best maps of Albania are hard to get and come from either the military or more likely the USSR. We work by word of mouth from local people and garner information from other PCVs in their respective sites. We are currently applying for PC committee status which would greatly improve the effectiveness of the project because we would be able to capitalize on PC committee funds, less restrictions on time we spend out of site, PC support, and the ability to better improve the capacity of Albanian counterparts who are involved in the project. Well, I just got a little excited about the topic but back to the point. I was going to attend these meetings with Tauschia because I am the GIS technician/treasurer for the committee, but I had some site specific work. This was abnormal, the one day that I really want to be involved in something I can’t because this is one of two days (in a month of service) that my host agency actually has some work they need my help on.

Alright, so I didn’t get to go to Tirana and promote the project. Instead I had probably the best day thus far in Albania. I had goal 2 covered no problem today and this entry counts as goal 3, so in my opinion I have worked genuinely hard today. Having said that wait tell you hear what “work” consisted of. I woke this morning at 5:45 (I thought my counterpart had said we would meet at 6:30 but he actually said 7:30, I get the two confused, damn this language) and went to a café where I would wait and we would eventually meet. We were driven to a nearby village by an employee of the Bashkia in order to collect information for a tourist brochure (and verify possible locations for a tourism promotion day, “Rubiku Touristik 2009”) that the Bashkia is putting together with financial backing from the French Embassy (I think the French at least). I am apparently a photography and tourism expert in terms of Albanian city government so I was the authoritative figure on the trip, don’t really know what the other people on the trip were saying but when I said, “wait, this is a good spot for a picture,” or “write this down as a point of interest, westerners will love it,” they listened, a perplexed look was given because most of the time no people were in the picture, but who wants to look at a picture of a natural scene with some bloke in the way of the view. I am not an artist so if by chance anyone actually reads this blog, has some artistic knowhow, and wants to help a LDC (Less Developed Country) let me know and I will send you the pictures or the website address I am creating and you can give me some “constructive criticism.” The village is gorgeous. The area is tucked in the mountains (coming from Arizona I would consider them hills) behind Rubik which have a “clean, fresh feel, vaguely reminiscent of sheets lifted from a tumble dry,” (taken from a description of an unrelated area in Europe by Bill Bryson, but it is what I thought of instantly when I first drove into Katundi i vjeter.) As we drove through the village, I would instruct the driver to stop periodically in order to take photos of a church or a collection of homes that stood out. The goal was to collect pictures of the area and visit homes of families who had expressed interest in housing tourists who would like to visit, a way to boost the economy and attract guests to the hospitable country. Our first stop was at the home of a family which housed three generations. The property was fairly large which matched the number of its inhabitants. We were treated in true Albanian cordial fashion with coffee and raki. After a period of wandering around the property taking pictures of the various subsistence activities that were taking place, the oldest of the children in the household guided us on a hike to a plain on the top of the mountain behind his house. Keep in mind I am basically just along for the ride, I had no idea what the day had in store for me because I have an incredible time understanding my counterpart, or anyone else in Rubik for that matter (they speak a dialect in this portion of the north that people in the south can’t even understand.) We walked along a breathtaking path for about thirty minutes and soon arrived at the top, here lay an amazing plain where I could see Lezhe and Shingjin in the distance. Those are coastal citites, I had no idea I was going to be able to see the firkin beach from up there. I sat in utter aw for some time and took about 50 pictures, none of which did the site justice (I had heard of a goat trail that connected the village with Lezhe but I never realized it would be so…beautiful. We were then guided down a separate trail that led to the opposite end of the family’s property; I was surprised that this was even more of a fantastic hike. The trail led beside the family’s water source, a small creek which fed a man made reservoir. When we arrived back at their home, we were led into the back room, a modest living room with sporadic seating, a couch and a coffee table. The table was strewn with various fares that were all produced on the property. The items included the typical Albanian items, all which are fresh as can be; tomatoes, cucumber, djathe e bardhe (a white cheese that slightly resembles feta), pork, beef, garlic, pickled peppers, cabbage and onion, and of course raki (made from grapes). Unbeknownst to me, we had other places to visit and Sander (my counterpart) soon pulled me away from the feast where we said our goodbyes and were escorted back down the hill in the owners 4X4 SUV. Before I left America there was a lot of talk throughout the country and in the media about fears that America would eventually (if not already) be taken over by China, India or rising powers in South America. I am by no means an authority on the topic, but as I rode alongside this simple yet incredibly happy villager in his Ford Maverick, listening to Queen on his stereo, watching him smoke countless Winston cigarettes and taking a look at the massive scare from his triple bypass surgery done at an American hospital in Tirana, I couldn’t have been more proud to be an American. This happens to me fairly often, in daily conversation or meetings on the streets people from this post communist country who have been subjugated to many hardships, dream of life in America. No place is perfect but I am incredibly lucky to have been born where I was born and anyone back in America who thinks that the country is on a downward slope or even ashamed to go abroad and tell people you are American; travel to a LDC anywhere in the world, spend three weeks living with its people, and I guarantee you will come back with greater pride and constructive attitudes about change in the country instead of just complaining.

The next three stops were at various homes where we met the owners, their families and took pictures. The last stop of the day was at a house that must have been built before the communist era. I say this because it was actually insulated and sturdy. The property had a creek that ran through the front yard with water so cold and clean, I thought I was in a different place. The day had been extremely hot and I had drank lots of raki (wouldn’t want to be rude to hospitable people of course) so I asked for some water. I usually don’t drink much of the water straight from the tap here in Albania but I was up in the mountains, it tasted great (like mountain spring water from a bottle), and I just couldn’t help myself. Then I realized that there is no sewage system up in these mountains and the water comes from various wells in the area…I will probably have giardia, great. Anyways, I was introduced to the grandma of the house who told me I reminded her of her grandchildren who all work abroad as laborers. As we sat at a table outside and sipped on raki (this time made from Thane berries) I couldn’t help but wonder at the scenery. I guess I kind of slipped into a daydream because the next thing I know there was an incredible amount of food placed out on the table (I counted ten plates heaped with food, for only three men and me). I will add a picture. After that meal I could barely move and Sander and I decided it was time to head back to Rubik and take a nap.

When I arrived back in Rubik, the parnari (owner) of the duqan (small market) came running out after me and requested that I fix her computer which had shut down due to viruses she had acquired in who knows what manner since they don’t have internet available. This has so far taken me a solid three hours, but who else would do it, for free? So that is where I am now…Naten i mirё!