Pro Week

The Peace Corps is difficult in ways that you can never expect, which is why HQ supplies us with this magical graph.Its kind of creepy how accurate it is.  My Peace Corps experience has followed this graph to a t.  During the low weeks, it is relieving to look forward and see that things will inevitably look up.  During the high weeks, the graph is a terrifying premonition (joking….kind of).

The point being, for every struggle, there is a high point.  Eventually, and its unavoidable unless you hide inside all day, every volunteer has that week where they think “this is why I joined Peace Corps”.

I just had mine and I am going to use this post to brag a little bit.  If you are wondering what I have been working on in Albania, this is a post for you…

1.  Community Banking – So my primary project has been promoting different community banking models.  Several months back I partnered up with another volunteer and a fantastic non-profit in northern Albania and they agreed to give the project a try. Since then we have been slowly researching, planning, and organizing.  As of Sunday, the project has officially begun!  For a test project, we created a hybrid of a ROSCA and an ASCA.  For now, the members are all contributing towards a common fund and every meeting one member takes home the entire fund (feel free to contact me for more details).  Slowly, we are working to improve member trust and develop a lending mechanism.  With the test project started, I can finally start to train other groups around Albania and create a network of small community banks!

2.  Peshkopi Youth Center – Nothing is better for a volunteer than when a HCN (host country national) comes to us with a project.  Most of the time when we come up with a project idea, we struggle to find the support needed to implement or sustain it.   So when motivated, intelligent, young people come to us looking to make a positive mark on their community, it makes us want to cry with happiness.  On Wednesday, such an individual approached me and pitched me his very well thought-out idea for a youth center similar to an American Corner.  It will be a place where youth can study, hang out, read, and play games.  The community can also use the room to hold lessons and clubs (such as my Chess Club).  Several of the nonprofits around Peshkopi have offhandedly mentioned the need for such a space, so I agreed to help him!  While we are still in the planning stages, I am excited to see where it goes.

3.  Integration – Living in a heavily Gheg town can be very difficult.  Every Volunteer faces moments where they feel alone and outside of the community.  This week though was the opposite.  I have recently gotten into a nice daily pattern including lunch at my favorite “diner” and then working in my favorite cafe with a magnificent view of the snow-capped mountains.  The nice part of my annoyingly unchanging routine is that the waiters and regulars all know my name and we have built up relationships.  Its nice to sit down and hear the waiters and a couple regulars turn and say “Pershendetje, Beni (Hello, Benny)”.  Kinda of like my own personal Cheers.  Also helps that my Albanian is finally becoming functional.

4.  Dumb luck – Nothing can go wrong this week.  Exhibit A) Someone is sending me real BBQ sauce and mustard.  B) My pierogies came out great.  C) And finally, when I was walking hom last night in the dark, I missed falling in a huge death-trap of a hole by about three inches.  Invincible.

The moral is for new volunteers and potential trainees.  Your first year is going to be some degree of hell, but it will all come together, and when it does everything will be well worth it.

PS. If this is the apogee of my service, where is the nadir?  Is “Beni meets a hole: the sequel” quickly approaching?

5 Reasons Future PCVs Should Be Excited to Come to Albania

Since the newest batch of volunteers have received their invitations (urime) and are getting ready to start their adventure with us in Albania, I have been thinking about the beginning of my service.  If I could go back in time and talk to myself before training, what would now-Beni tell past-Beni to be excited about?  What would I tell past-self to be careful of?

Yes, this is going to a January reflection of my last year.  Original, I know.

5 things future PCVs in Albania should be excited about

1) The hiking.  Even if you are not a big outside person, the nature here is stunning.  The landscapes of Northeast Albania are essentially untouched.  Sometimes the mountains, streams, and shepherd’s paths remind me of scenes from Lord of the Rings.

2) Furgons.  I may be the only volunteer who really likes furgons.  There is an inevitable point in every furgon trip where you hear people loudly talking about you.  Which is funny, because while they don’t know that you understand Albanian, the Albanian word for American is Amerikan.  So, duh.  Anyways, own the situation.  You will make friends and have awesome conversations.  I technically promised a lady she can give me a wife if I haven’t found my own by March 2016.  I gave her my contact information, so I am excited to see what happens.  You all will be invited to the wedding, don’t worry.

3) Albanians and PCVs.  Very much related to the above.  Albanians are generally incredible hospitable, nice people.  You will make long lasting friendships with people from your training village and placement site.  There is no avoiding it.  It is going to happen.  As for us volunteers…  While we primarily talk about what goes into and comes out of our bodies and communicate with a seemingly random combination of English and Albanian, I think we are a pretty stellar crew.  I know I have made some fantastic friends, and so will you all.

4) Never completely understanding a menu.  That is if you are lucky enough to get one.  I generally try the item that I understand the least and have the most trouble pronouncing .  The results have been satisfying.  Even if you are picky eater, deal with it and just try something new, I bet you will be happy for the memory if not for the lunch.  Also adding a pak more vinegar to Pace Kokë is delicious.

5)   Host family feeding frenzy.  Get ready for the best problem you will ever face.  I hope you all like bread.

5 things future PCVs in Albania should watch out for

1)  Holes.  Albania has this way of destroying things.  Namely computers and bodies.  I am pretty accident prone and Albania has taken full advantage.  Heads down, newbies.  Eyes on the sidewalk.

2)  Old and New Leke.  When people talk about prices, they normally multiple the price by 10.  Something that is 10 Leke becomes 100 Leke.  Something that is 200 Leke becomes 2000 Leke, etc.  But not always, some people will speak in new Leke.  Written prices are normal (10 Leke is 10 Leke), unless you are looking at official Instat government statistics, then it is in old Leke.   Confused?  Don’t worry, you will get use to it; it is kind of fun.  After ten months I even use old Leke when I talk.  I have some Albanian friends at site that will use old Leke in English to mess with me.  “How much is are these veggies?”  “50 dollars, Bengji.”  Oh, 500 Leke, got it.  Newbies, you should try using “old dollars” around your homes in America to mess with your family and ‘practice’ for Albania.

3)  Gheg.  You will all learn Tosk Albanian, but a bunch of you will be placed in the North, which speaks Gheg.  Is it similar to Tosk, you might ask?  Other than the multitude of different words and different ways to pronounce some letters, sure.  It can be pretty difficult when transiting to site when you realize you suddenly are back to virtually zero Albanian comprehension skills.  There is a silver lining though.  Whenever you are in a conversation with Albanians where you are no idea what is going on (or just want to make a good impression), purposefully slip in a couple Gheg words and they will laugh and love you forever.    Careful though, do it by accident to your southern PCVs and they will just regular laugh at you.  All in all, Gheg is pretty majr.

4)  Hoxha’s Revenge.  The water in most sites is drinkable, but there are definitely places to be weary of, Tirana being one.  Nothing is worse than losing the Tirana Water Challenge right before getting in a furgon.  With that, I drink the water everywhere.  Normally I am fine, but I have had some comically bad results.

5)  Meat byrek at the corner bakery by Hub.  You will figure out what store I am talking about.  Its fantastic, but heads up, when you they say meat byrek they mean a hot dog jammed inside a croissant.  On a side note, I just learned that egg roll in Albanian is ‘byrek kinez’.  Pretty entertaining, huh.

-Shifemi Shpajt!

Why Communism Is Making Me So Cold

Sometimes Albania can be a wacky place, but winter has seems to have really brought out the nuttiness.  Since coming to Albania in March, I have wondered why shop owners are constantly hosing off the sidewalk in front of their stores.  My town is on a water schedule (I only get three to four hours of running water from the municipality a day), but the city is constantly wet.  There is even a truck that drives around watering the roads during the summer.  At first, I figured that it was an oddity that would eventually be logically explained once I had the language skills to ask.  Now that I do have the skills,  people say that it is to wash away the dust and help keep the city cool.  Sure, I’ll buy it.

But now its winter.

And the sidewalks are still being washed.

I now live the middle of a city wide ice rink.  Its really a kid’s dream, but an adult’s nightmare.  No longer am I told by my neighbors to put on a coat or to make sure I have an umbrella with me, but rather they warn me against walking around with both of my hands in my pockets.

I believe that the lack of individual responsibility for ice removal may be a bit emblematic of Albania’s struggles as a post-traumatic society.  Its a real life Tragedy of the Commons.  Individuals “are mostly interested in grabbing what they can for themselves instead of digging out the nests of corruption”.  Each action, whether it be shop keepers maintaining the space in front of their shops or local government taking responsibility, assumes certain risks and rewards.  Unfortunately, communism seems to have depleted any sense of solidarity (aside from superficial nationalism), so in the absence of tangible benefits, the sidewalks go unsalted.  Everyone is waiting for someone else to deal with the problem.  As Albania grows, I believe that an incipient Utilitarian mindset will also develop, but at the moment it is gravely missing.

But this is just my opinion.  Maybe it is as ridiculous of pouring water on a sidewalk during winter.

Quirky Culture

Culture is fun.  Integrating into a new one is difficult and strange, not only due of its, well, newness, but also because of your own cultural subjectivity.  So here is a list of cultural quirks that I have noticed whiling trying to integrate into Albanian culture (at least from an Americans point of view) and some oddities about American culture that I haven’t really noticed before.  Of course this isn’t a complete list.  Culture is so more expansive than 10 item.  Some of items even fall into both categories, depending on situation and intensity. Enjoy!

*As a note, this is all in good fun and is certainly not meant to speak in generalities or offend anyone.  Rather, this is a compilation of culture that I have experienced both in Albania and America.  My subjectivity very much determines what I notice, so if you disagree with anything, please let me know!

5 Cultural Quirks that I Probably Shouldn’t Take Back to America with Me

1) “Lets get physical”.  There is a lot of cheek kissing, hand holding, and uncomfortably long handshakes in Albanian culture.  Unfortunatly, Americans like having their own space when they talk, which, much to our chagrin, does not exist here in Albania.  I’ll subdivide this section into three categories

•  Handshakes are loose and should last over twenty seconds.  Somebody please try that back home in America and see how the handshake recipient reacts.
• Arm holding.  Americans want at least two feet between themselves and their interlocutor with no touching.  In Albania, it is completely acceptable for two people to hold hands or link arms while talking.  I have even found myself grabbing arms when I talk to people.  That will definitely make someone uncomfortable when I return home.
• Cheek Kissing:  Girls cheek kiss girls, guys cheek kiss guys, and girls can cheek kiss guys.  Just make sure to go to the right.  Always go to the right.  Always.  Its strange that Americans are uncomfortable with cheek kissing since we have such a hugging culture.  As a wise, fellow volunteer observed, a cheek kiss is simply lips on cheek.  A hug is one person touching another person with his/her whole body.  Maybe hugs are creepier.

2) Tsk Tsk.  This is one habit that I want to bring back with me, but will be pretty heavily frowned upon.  You know those hated, awkward moments when the waiter comes over and asks if you want anything while you are in the middle of a conversation?  Albania has an answer!  You can “tsk tsk” or just waggle your finger.  I do both!  It seems a little more deliberate that shaking my head no.  I know that I am going to struggle to stop it when I’m home and I accept that a waiter is probably going to spit in my food.

3) Bluntness. This is another one that I thought about putting in the “bring back home” section and I believe that it would be good for Americans.  However, it probably wouldn’t go over too well.  Americans tend to pride themselves on being able to speak their mind, but in reality we have a pretty passive culture when it comes to conversations.  In Albania, so much more in on the table.  Want to know how much money a stranger makes?  No problem!  They may not always tell you, but you can always ask.  Money, politics, religion.  S’ka problem.  Looking for a wife?  Gjyshe will hook you up (but she probably already offered you one at the beginning of the conversation).  After originally being a bit horrifying, it has become pretty fun.

4) Stop!  Sorry, I couldn’t think of a clever pun for the title of this section.  Actually, my mind couldn’t decide between a terrible MC Hammer or Vanilla Ice pun.  I cannot overstate how much I need to stop this habit and how little I understand why it exists. In Albania, if you see someone you know and want to say hello, you can stop and engage in a long handshake pretty much anywhere regardless of who you are getting in the way of.  I once saw a car stop in the middle of the street and block all the other cars in order to shake someones hand.  Only after the other cars starting honking, did he pull over, all without stopping the uncomfortably long handshake.  Peshkopians (and now I do too) regularly stop in the middle of a sidewalk and block everybody.  I am not sure if this is acceptable to everyone, but I see it all the time and people generally do not seem to care.  They just find a way to go around.

5) First come, first serve.  Much like the topic above, I am not sure if this is generally acceptable, but it happens a lot here.  American’s have a very predetermined notion on order and lines.  You can even get kicked out of amusement parks for failing to observe the proper order.  In Albania, its, uh, a little different.  Cashiers often check people out based on who has the smallest basket or if they know someone.  This certainly does not happen all the time, but enough to be entertaining.  The first time I reach around someone in front of me to pay in the States, I am going to get socked in the nose.

5 Cultural Quirks I Probably Should Take Home

1)  Tolerance. I could believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster and nobody would care.  Albania is an inspiring example of religious tolerance.  The country is predominantly Muslim, but has a significant Christian minority, all without religious strife.  That is why the pope decided to start his most recent European tour here in Albania.

2)  Hospitality.  If there is one reason to go to Albania instead of any other country in the world, it would be their hospitality.  More than once, I have hitchhiked (sorry parents) and ended up being given coffee or meals.  I accidentally bumped into an old lady on a bus and apologized.  Her response, “Don’t worry about it, have an apple.”  It’s amazing, heart-lifting, and ubiquitous.  Lost tourists are often invited, free of charge, to stay at people’s homes.  It is really something worth experiencing, not just for the free stuff, but the for the attitude.

3) Xhiro.  Once a day, often at dusk, people dress up (or at least make themselves look presentable) and walk up and down a predetermined street.  In most towns, the local government takes extra good care of this street and it is often pedestrians only.  It is an enjoyable activity in community unification, a fun way to see friends, and an easy way to meet people.  This is most likely something I will do at home, even if I will be xhiroing alone.

4) Coffee Time…All the Time?  Ok, maybe not all the time.  Albania may go a little overboard on coffee time, but it is a great idea.  Rather than meeting in an office, it is more normal to go drink a coffee together.  This mix of social and professional allows relationships to be created which often help whatever business needs to be accomplished.  Eliminating the stress of an office also helps spark ideas.  To the dismay of whomever hires me when I return home, I will try and continue professional coffees.

5) Filial Piety. Deference…veneration… eh. To the best of my knowledge, English does not really have a word to describe this, which is kind of the point.  Albanians have a large amount of respect for their elder family members, particularly their grandparents.  Its existence is obvious in language.  To call someone a nënë (mother) means to that that person is a master of something.  Instead of sir, you can say xhaxhi (uncle).  The words gjyshe and gjysh (grandmother and grandfather) imply a singular amount of respect.  This may be an ideology that we want to adopt in America.

Photo Tour of Peshkopi

In order to further exemplify the stratification of Albania between the developing and developed world, I am going to share a photographic journal of a walk from my apartment in the center of Peshkopi to the village of Staravec.  Click on the mosiac to cycle through the full screen slideshow.

This my apartment building. I live in an old communist-era apartment. Since it is all made out of concrete, it can get pretty cold. Luckily, my neighbors and I pretty much all have wood stoves.

Everything I need to close at hand. Food, coffee, and byrek are all less than 100 yards from my front door.

This is the commercial section of the xhiro. Fast food places generally service sufflaqe (kind of like a gyro), hamburgers (which is a teaser since they don’t have really patties), and sanduiçs (imagine a cold bologna sandwich).

Unfinished buildings are a regular sight in Albania. If people come across extra money, they do not have many good ways to store or invest it, so they build. Often the buildings are left incomplete.

Peshkopia is predominately Muslim. Here is the mosque at the city center.

After about a ten minute walk, I am leaving town center and turning into one of the surrounding neighborhoods.

Most people living in town either live in an apartment building similar to mine or buildings such as this. Again, this is an old communist building.

As I get out of town, the road gets worse and worse. Most people here live in private houses with enclosed yards where they grow vegetables and fruits (namely grapes and oranges).

I am finally out of town! The road has turned into a path.

One outstanding and unappreciated element of Albania is its nature.

Albania constructed 700,000 of these bunkers during communism. I believe that they have 1 bunker for every 4 people. Check out this cool link -http://www.atlasobscura.com/places/bunkers-of-albania

Peshkopia is surrounded by mountains which are now slowly accumulating snow caps.

Peshkopi and my destination of Staravec are only 3 kilometers away, but they seem like they are from different planets. The path connecting them, though, is beautiful.

It is not Albania without a picture of a donkey.

We are only 15 minutes out of town and there are no traces of the city left.

Welcome to Staravec

This is a normal stone-and-brick rural house. Included in the compound is a small garden and barn for the livestock.

Life here is quite different than in Peshkopi.

Walking around the village is challenging. It can be quite steap.

The roads in Staravec are all dirt and stone.

A pretty common sight in Albania.

Obobo. I am going to be getting muddy.

Did you think there would be only one picture of a donkey?

Sunset here with the mountains can be incredible.

Daily Life….and Coffee

When I talk with friends and family back home, they always ask questions about my daily life and the struggles that I face.  Often I am challenged with preconceived notions of Peace Corps service.  Just put the phrase “Peace Corps” into Google Images and you will quickly see what I mean.  Granted, most Peace Corps Volunteers live in pretty difficult locations.  Living in huts and yurts is totally normal.  However, in a quickly globalization world, it is becoming increasingly more challenging to completely avoid development, meaning you get a big clump of countries that I will label as ‘halfsies’.  These countries face a long uphill battle to achieve the arbitrary classification of “developed” but are grossly different than countries struck with immeasurable absolute poverty, such as Haiti and Zimbabwe.  These halfsies trick you with tastes of home. Sometimes you are having coffee with a HCN (Host country national in Peace Corps slang) friend and they pull out their iphone and ask you the wifi password.  These ostensible luxuries, however, mask the reality of the halfsies.  The poverty may not be as extreme or ubiquitous as Haiti or Zimbabwe, but it is certainly existent, and in mass.  Most of the struggle is systemic and for me, generally regarding work culture (Work life here seems to be struggling to transition from an incredibly oppressive totalitarian regime to an open, transparent democracy).  While volunteers in Africa may struggle to get water, we here struggle to work in a system plagued with corruption, apathy, nepotism, and cronyism.  I am not trying to say that one PC country is harder to live in than another, doing so misses the point completely, but rather incipient development often looks flashy, but exists among a myriad of problems and gross poverty.  I often struggle to articulate the duality of my life here in a halfsie.  On one hand, I can make my life sound pretty comfortable, but at the same time I face significant challenges.  Hopefully my describing an average day can help express what I am trying to articulate.

8:00am.  Wake up….first try.

8:15am.  Really wake up.  Bumble around my apartment doing nothing.  Check my email (I have wifi in my apartment, which is totally normal for volunteers in Albania even though it is often uselessly slow).

8:30am.  Finally gain sentience.  Take a shower.  On the note of showers.  Mine has one temperature.  To adjust it, I have to adjust the water tank and wait two or three hours.  Also, the drain for my shower is my Turkish toilet.  I haven’t yet fallen into my  toilet while showering, but I feel like the day is fast approaching.  Hopefully not today.  Kismet.

9:00am: I usually make eggs or buy Byrek and kos for breakfast.  Byrek is layered phyllo dough with goodies in the middle such as spinach, onions, tomatos, or my favorite, cottage cheese.  Kos is, as I am now realizing, not an English word.  I guess greek yogurt is the closest equivalent.

9:30am:  Time for my first coffee of the day.  I head to Turi’s.  I mistakenly get there there before ten which, for whatever reason, means that I will get raki with my coffee or tea.  Morning raki with a coffee is totally socially acceptable, most of the men do it.  We have named it a rakiatto, combining the words raki and macchiatto.  As much as I have grown to like raki, 9:30 is a bit early.  I attempt to talk in Albanian to Turi.  He suffers through it because he is awesome.

10:00am: I begin to work on whatever project I have for the day.  Occasionally I go my office in the town hall, but normally I just work coffee shops.  While the people I work with are amazing, working in the town hall is much like my internet. Coffee number two.  During this time, I will sometimes meet with various community members about whatever project I am working on.  Coffee number three.

12:00pm:  Lunch time.  Albanians generally eat lunch around 2, but I like to beat the rush and eat lunch at a normal American time.  Lunch is generally at this fantastic local restaurant.  The owners are amazing and the food is cheap.  Linda, the owner, usually gives me grief for not talking in Albanian enough.  I generally meet my sitemate for lunch, but if we miss eat other I get the honors of eating lunch at a small, private table with a total stranger.  The conversation is the same almost every time.  Here it is in my terrible Albanian with equally terrible spelling.

Stranger: Pershendetjë.  Si jeni?  A jeni merzit? I Lodhur? “(Hello, How are you doing?  Are you tired?  Annoyed?”  This is the standard Albanian greeting)

Me: Pershendetjë.  Mirë, jo, jo.  Po ju? (“Hello, I am good.  No, no.  And how are you?”)

Stranger: Mirë.  Flet ti Shqip?!  Ku nga?  (“Good.  You speak Albanian?  Where are you from?”)

Me: <What I want to say> Uhhhh, yes.  I do speak the language that we are currently conversing in  <What I really say> Po, uhhhhh  (“Yes, uhhhh”.  I should learn more Albanian).  Jam nga America por tani jetoj in Peshkopi.  Do te rri ketu per 2 vit. (“I am from America, but I live here now.  I will stay for two years.”)

Stranger:  Si ja kalove?  (“How are you passing your day?”  We are back on greeting, I guess).

Me:  Mirë, mirë.  (“good good”.  You can really have a whole conversation with this word.  We continue to do the greeting thing and I explain about the Peace Corps).

Stranger: asflkj sdfl jasdoip zzoiu glnrtn visa.  (At least this is how it sounds in my head.  The stranger has now reverted to rapid fire Albanian with a really really thick dialect.  But I heard the word Visa, so I know what he wants.  He is asking if I can take him to America.  I answer this question every day and am still not sure if it is a joke.

Me:  I usually panic here, forget all of my Albanian and then decide to try out my dialect which  make the stranger laugh. I explain that I am not great at Albanian which he has definitely figured out by now.  We then have a nice, easy conversation that I can handle, like about the weather.  I have asked “Does peshkopi get snow in the winter?” probably a thousand times.  Sometimes if I am having a linguistic off-day he decides to teach me how to count, or just names famous Americans.

Sorry for the tangent, I’ll get back to my day now.

12:30pm:  I go back home, recharge my computer and read for a little bit.

1:30pm:  I go get coffee with one of my friends or have another coffee meeting with a project partner.  Coffee number 4.  Afterwards I work on whatever project or run errands.

3:00pm.  I am home again.  I really need to pee, but I missed the water schedule.  We get running water probably three to fours hours a day.  Luckily, I have a deposit that holds some extra water, but its fairly limiting.  Opps, power is out.

4:00pm.  Power comes back on.  Our power goes out probably on average twice a week.  Some weeks it can be pretty bad and others can be pretty good.  Most day-to-day difficulty comes from lack of functioning infrastructure.  I never seem to have water when I need to do laundry, lack power when I need to do work, and the roads are always terrifying and terrible.  I now head to go play chess with my buddy.  Coffee number 5.

6:30:pm.  Dinner time.  Again, Albanians usually eat dinner at 9, but I can’t hold out that long.  I make pasta with tons of veggies.  After dinner, I try to study Albanian but I quickly give up.  I switch to reading or watching tv (sometimes in English sometimes in Albanian).  This goes on until midnight when I try and go to bed. I can’t.  Maybe I should have had less coffee.

Peeing in Berat

Over the weekend (plus Monday and Tuesday) I had the opportunity to visit a volunteer located in Berat, which is a couple hour bus trip from Pajove.  While at first I was hesitant to miss language training, in the end the trip was absolutely amazing.  Berat is a medium-sized city of roughly 70,000 and is an UNESCO protect city.  The city itself has been around since the 6th century and is located at the foot of a large hill (or small mountain.  I’m never sure what to call the inbetweeners) with a castle at the top.  The history is actually pretty interesting.  Rather than copy Wikipedia, I am going to offer suggested reading:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berat

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berat_Castle

The city has clear medieval roots.  Once you get off of the main stretch, the roads are narrow, steep, and cobblestone, which makes walking in the rain pretty tricky.  Walking up to the castle involved a fifteen minute hike up one of these cobblestone roads at which point we found ourselves facing the castle gate.  After paying the 100 Leke (1 dollar) entry fee, we were overlooking not only Berat, but miles and miles of the surrounding countryside.  The history and value of the castle and city was almost tangible.  Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, it was raining, so I did not take too many pictures, but I will share some of the ones that I took.

In the heart of the castle is a small family run cafe where we hid from the rain.  Like any good Albanian cafe, we were immediately offered either Turkish coffee or raki.  The choice was obvious.  While the prevalence of homemade raki is ostensibly sketchy, the variation in flavor and quality can be fun, particularly when sitting in the middle of the castle sipping what the two-year volunteers called “the best raki they had drank in Albania”.  After exploring the cistern (and carefully not falling in), we ventured down from the castle and had a classic Albanian afternoon (which involves going out to coffee several times).

Even in larger cities, such as Berat, the clash of old and new is still startling, The city is seemingly western; there are new cars on the road, restaurants are nice, but the old always creeps in.  For example, most of the city is on a water schedule.  The water is turned on for a couple hours in the morning, around lunch, and at night.  Also, resources are scarce.  For example, the library does have books, but just not that many.  The ones that were openly displayed were old, torn, book-club editions of a random array of topics.  Berat is attempting to grow and wants to solve these problems, but the lack of income makes it impossible.  Albania’s unemployment rate is listed only at 13% (still not great), but that figure is probably way off base.  The statistic relies on individuals officially registering as unemployed.  Since the state offers very little social services and distrust for the government is high (particularly after the pyramid schemes in the 90s and communism), individuals are not motivated to do so.  The more realistic estimate that I have heard thrown around  is conservatively 35% while others suggest that it may be up around 60%.  Most businesses here are unregistered and outside of the cities and a huge portion of the population is subsistence-farming adjacent (minuscule income to complement subsistence-farming).  Basic infrastructure is in disrepair.  The power is iffy, the roads are awful, and the sewage system is a joke.  On the other hand, I am writing this email from my family’s wifi.  Albania is truly a country of extremes.  The potential here is absolutely amazing.  It is beautiful country.  Yesterday afternoon after finishing language class, I was just sitting with a fellow trainee on his host-family’s steps, drinking homemade wine and eating absolutely delicious homemade feta cheese and yogurt while looking over the vast backdrop of mountains, valleys, and trees.  That experience by itself was an element of a very expensive vacation.  Just two hours later, I found myself in the dark, squatting over a hole in the ground (or politely called a Turkish toilette) with a flashlight in my mouth.  So while the potential for Albania is seemingly infinite, the uphill battle is going to be long.

A couple closing notes.

1) The Albanian word to drink is pi (pronounced pee), which is amusing as a native english speaker.  I am guess that an Albanian learning English probably also laughed when learning the inverse.

2) My host mother is the chicken whisperer.  She just walked outside, made a tsk-tsk sound and twenty chicks popped out of the woodwork (that was meant pretty literally) and surrounded her.

Bubullimë dhe Bukë

Sorry for the delay in posting.  I realize that I set a goal for regular posts, but I ran into some technical troubles, which seems to be pretty common here in Albania, but they have been resolved.  I should be able to post more regularly.  Also, please excuse my writing.  I am pretty sure I have a finite amount of language skill, which is now being divided between English, German, and Albanian.

I have now been in Albania for roughly three weeks and it is getting more and more interesting every day.  I now understand enough of the language to have some idea of what is going on around me and I am starting to get a hang for the culture.  This post is going to be short and about the largest (in more than one way) part of my life with a host family (my evident culture).

I will start by saying my host family is the greatest host family I could ask for.  They are absolutely perfect.  It is incredible how hospitable they are.  Honestly, from what I gather, hospitality is part of Albanian culture and much more so than in the United States.  When I thank my host mother for something basic, I get a quick blush and a response s’ka gjë (no problem).  After talking with other volunteers, I gather that this is pretty normal.  I induce that hospitality is so fundamental in Albanian culture that it is a little ridiculous to thank someone for any part of this hospitality.  Hospitality is completely expected.  I also induce that a guest should never be hungry.  NEVER.  Not even when they wake up at three in the morning to walk outside for a pee in the turkish style outhouse.  This means that at dinner, which is 8pm every night (honestly, a little early for Albania) they offer more food than that guess is capable of ingesting in one sitting.  And the vast majority of this is bread (Bukë).  Also, “No” is never an answer.  Not even with a finger waggle (which is a part of Albanian culture that I picked up a little quicker than I should have, but I absolutely love).  They will tell they guest when the guest should be full.  One time a couple weeks ago I told my host mother that I was full and her response was a concise “No” at which point she put more food in front of me.  I like my host family so much that I obliged and kept on eating.   Luckily, my host family has hosted volunteers before so they understand that Americans have their little quirks, like only eating three pieces of bread with dinner.  However, when my gjyshe (grandmother) is over, all bets are off.  I once heard my host mother tell me “Avash Avash” (which is turkish for slowly, slowly, in reference to eating) at the exact time that my gjushe was saying “ha Bukë” (“eat bread”).  I absolutely love this cultural oddity.

I also love Albanian food.  Probably more than any other volunteer.  A meal normally consists of bread (of course), yogurt (sometimes with onion, garlic, and cucumber), a chunk of fete cheese, and byrek.  Byrek is a delicious baked good consisting of layers of filo dough with something, normally spinach, in the middle.  By the way byrek (the Y makes a hard ‘u’ sound in albanian) is not to be confused with brek which means underpants.  I can’t tell you the number of times I have accidentally told my host mother that I love underpants, which I guess is true, but not really the point that I am trying to get across.  Did I mention that meals are always served with bread?  I really cannot understate that.

Also raki is sometimes served to men at meals.  Raki is an alcohol drink that is found primarily in Albania.  It tastes like sometime tried to make gasoline out of a grape.  While you can probably buy real Raki in stores, no one does this because everyone just makes it at home and stores it in old plastic liter bottles.  There is probably more homemade raki is Albanian than moonshine in Appalachia.  I write this with a grin on my face because I absolutely love Raki (like a good almost-Albanian).  A old volunteer yesterday described it as heaven and hell all in one.  For anybody preparing to visit me, be ready….

Finally, it is raining outside like it does everyday.  It usually does not rain too much, just for a little each day.  Today, though, we have lightning and thunder (bubullimë, probably my favorite word in Albanian).  Keep posted…tomorrow I am uploading pictures from my trip to Berat.

Natën e mirë (good night),

Ben

First Day in Albania (I never want to drive a car here)

The last 48 hours have been totally crazy. Between all the staging events and jumping through time zones, I’m honestly not completely sure what day of the week it is. I think its Wednesday?  Anyways, on Monday, I  miraculously arrived in D.C. on time on Monday (a snow storm in D.C. ruined morning flights for all the trainees) and promptly attended five grueling hours of orientation or in Peace Corps slang, staging.  This was all preparing us for a long long long Tuesday (and maybe Wednesday?  Again, I’m not quite sure on the day of the week).  On Tuesday, all forty three of us left the hotel at 1 in the afternoon to check into the airport and start making our way through security.  Luckily, this did not take up nearly as long as we thought, so we had plenty of time to just sit, relax, eat chipotle, and wait for our flight which left at 6:30pm.  From Dulles, we flew through the night and arrived in Vienna around 7am Austria time.  We then waited 4 more hours to catch a 90 minute flight from Vienna to Tirana.  There, we were promptly met by Peace Corps staff who fed us and drove us two hours from Tirana to the training center in Elbasan.  Now my maths adds up to 22 hours of transportation and airport time which passed through five time zones.  So while I am not particularly tired for whatever reason, my body is thoroughly confused.

My brief trip in a bus from Tirana to Elbasan allowed me to form a couple Hypothesis about Albanian culture.  I’m not sure how well they will hold true over time, but there were certainly true today.

1)  When it comes to waiting in lines, Albanians think out of the box.  I read on another blog that waiting through a line in Albania is an experience.  I did not believe it.  I mean, a line is a line right?  That would be true if a line was a line in the first place. (That sentence is kind of bordering on pure nonsense, but I will use jet-lag as an excuse) Getting through customs was a mad dash of jumping between lines, skipping entire portions of lines and loudly shouting for the rest of your party to follow you.  It was pure madness.

2) Driving in Albania is like waiting is a line.  While there appear to be signs, lights, and lanes, these all appeared to be loosely kept suggestions.  Add in no sidewalks, tons of bicycles, and the occasional donkey-drawn cart, you find a perfect balance between excitement and pure terror.

 

ps- When I said that I’m not that tired, I lied. 

Prequel

So this is my inaugural post, which seems to pose two separate difficulties. First of all, I have not seriously written since my college days. Even then, I was not particularly known for my pencil prowess. So please forgive me for any awkwardness; I am banking of writing being like riding a bike, except I barely learned how to do it in the first place. Secondly, I have not actually left for Albania yet. I am currently sitting in the comforts of my own kitchen avoiding the myriad of chores needing to be complete before I leave for D.C. on Monday. Given those two difficulties, I believe that this post serves an important purpose. That is, defining why I am writing this blog and what it means to me.

Getting an opportunity to live for a significant period of time in a foreign country is not a experience that everyone is lucky enough to enjoy. Therefore, I hope to share my experiences with you all, the readers. Hopefully, this blog will chronicle my struggles and successes as well as give you all a taste of what it means to live in Albania. Living in a foreign country and learning a new language challenges how we see the world. Even just the words we are able to use shapes how we view the world. As I learn what it means to be Albanian, I hope to share a little bit of this different view point with you. Also, if you ever have an questions or concerns, please feel free to contact me either in the comment section or send me a private message (click the contact menu button at the top of the screen). Anything you want to know, I am willing to write about. I would love to to create some sort of dialog to facilitate a two-way conversation.

The second reason I am writing this blog (as I write this, I realize I may be going overboard with this two part lists, but hey, as I said before, I am a math and science type person) is inherently personal. From everything I have read, the next ten weeks of Pre-Service Training (PST) are going to be exceedingly challenging. As of right now, I speak almost no Albanian, have never experienced Albanian culture, and have never eaten Albanian food. This blog will be a way for me to organize my thoughts and understand my own experiences.

Like the nerd I am, I have set goals for my blog. Not really number of subscriptions or views (although visibility is nice) but more goals regarding consistency. Goal 1: if you contact me, I will respond. If I am not responding, that means I do not have internet. Goal 2: I will post at least once a week. Hopefully, during PST, I will be able to post at least twice a week.

Thank you all for reading, or as my future language learning will teach me, falemnderit.
-Ben