Gezuar

I’ve had a bit of the sauce while celebrating my friend Endrit’s Birthday (ditelindje). I don’t see this as a problem as much as an opportunity to touch on Albanian drinking customs that I have experienced.

I believe the best of these customs is the single shot of Raki with coffee in the morning. I, on occasion, enjoy this custom with my host father or with another male host family member such as an uncle or great uncle. I typically refuse the Raki from my host mother (Rezarta), but when I go outside on the balcony to join my host father (Sali) there is, if by mystic Albanian magic, a shot of Raki next to my Turkish Kafe. S’ka problem (no problem). The combination of caffeine and alcohol is a pleasant mix to me right after waking up and to many of my (male) volunteer colleagues. One thing I enjoy about this custom is (at least in my house) the complete moderation with which it is enjoyed. In my host family’s circle it is understood that a little Raki is good for you (how could a custom as old as this not be beneficial?) and a lot is unacceptable and frowned upon.

Raki, for those that don’t know, is a clear liquor made from grapes that can, depending on the distiller, be light and easy or strong and quickly evaporating. Most people in the villages make their own. My village is well known for having a strong and flavorful Raki. I like it a lot. It’s a little oily which allows it to stay smooth even when it’s strong.

I was given a twelve ounce bottle of the jet fuel variety when I left town last week as a parting gift and as something to share with my friends elsewhere. Again, as with all things, my host family took my short trip as an opportunity to demonstrate their unyielding obligation to be more than generous to their host son.

Of course, on the bus from Elbasan (major city closest to my village) to Durres (biggest port in the country) I didn’t need to open my bottle because other host sons were given similar parting gifts that very morning. This might be a good time to mention that I didn’t notice or observe any women in possession of such goodbye presents. Nor did any female volunteers want to partake in our mid morning taste. I say that only to note the differences in gender expectations in Albania and also illustrate that liberal American females and Albanian conservative ideas in terms of gender were, in this situation, on the same page.

I went to a wedding a week ago today and as far as drinking went you were expected to drink every time someone issued a cheers (Gezuar). If you didn’t want to drink alcohol it was acceptable to drink soda or juice and if you were drinking, but didn’t want to get sauced then you could fill your glass with the smallest amount possible and drink that only when obligated. This is what happened at our table as the Americans present issued many gezuars to our middle aged Albanian friends who didn’t want drink as much, as quickly. There was also a roving band of gezuar-ers who went from table to table issuing wishes to the new couple and to the health of all in attendance. Beers seemed to magically appear on queue and it was seen as quite odd that we only stayed for four and a half hours. The next wedding I go to I will be the first there and last to leave because there was a certain amount of shame involved in leaving early.

It hasn’t ever happened to me, but occasionally a person might get into a fergon (a “minibus which is actually a mid 90’s ford or chevy van outfitted to hold 10-12 people) and the driver might take a shot of Raki before leaving town or might have to stop to puke a couple of times during the journey. I have been on fergons where passengers were obviously tanked, but I have never to my knowledge been on a fergon where the driver was housed drunk. It’s difficult to tell if a fergon driver is drunk because if you’re a good fergon driver you’re driving fast and at least a little reckless. My driver tonight was a beast and he literally got me home in half the time that most driver’s take. He passed this fool in a Mercedes (going 20) on a blind corner and I really felt like he deserved a tip for it. If someone makes a fergon driving video game I think American audiences would eat it up. I think about being a fergon driver after my two years is up.

Another interesting note about Albanian alcohol is Ponc (pronounced “panch”) which is a terrible mix of Raki and cough syrup. Terrible, just awful. I’m sure lil’ wayne would love it, but that don’t make it right.

In other news, I was elected to the Volunteer Advisory Committee (VAC) by the group 13 health education volunteers. It was a come from behind victory, but through a mix of nominating myself, hiring a campaign manager, viral text messaging and bribes I won. I found out later that I was the only person who campaigned in any way shape or form, but I won and that’s all the matters. Winning is winning. I’ll touch on this more later.

I also took my language test a couple days ago and I think I passed so I won’t be getting shipped back to the states with my tail between my legs. I also ended my training self assessment report by saying that my commitment to serve is such that the only way I won’t complete my two years of service is if I die. I am looking forward getting feedback on that during my final training interview next week. Speaking of which…

In less than a week I will be sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer and despite our peaceful stance I will be obligated to protect the United States from all enemies, both foreign and domestic…so Osama, IF you’re still alive and out there, stay in that cave and cower behind your dialysis machine son! I’ve got vacation days coming and I might find you and have to get down to some brass tacks. All jokes aside, I’m looking forward to completing training and starting work up in Peshkopi.

Thanks for reading. Feedback and questions are, as always, encouraged.

First of all, I would like to apologize for the fact that my journal is ten times as good as this blog will ever be. I typically write in it first and because it isn’t public it is far more interesting and better written. That being said, here’s the update:

I played my first game of futboll Saturday night with kids almost half my age. In Albania, people pay to play by the hour at caged in, Astroturf fields. I am not in game shape for anything, but I did score the three ugliest goals in the history of all sports in which goals are scored.

The first was the least ugly of the three and they went down from there. Essentially, I kicked in a rebound that wasn’t cleared, but I kicked it so softly that two players on the opposition almost caught it before it went in.

The second was more of a mistake by their goalie who decided to roll the ball to me like I wasn’t even there (most of the game was played like I wasn’t even there). I trapped it with my left, shuffled it to my right and my right foot repeated its earlier performance by barely striking leather. This time the goalie, who had fallen down in disgrace, got up and almost caught it before it bounced off the post and in.

The third goal, if it could be considered a bicycle kick, would be the ugliest bicycle kick goal to ever be kicked by man or beast. It was bad. I was at about mid field and I kicked the ball absurdly far, over the teammate whom I wanted to receive it, and off the fingertips of the goalie who was not paying attention and into the goal. I felt bad because everyone laughed at him, myself included. I did turn the other direction. Worst part is I think he’s been having a tough week. He’s normally one of the more obnoxious, upbeat and loud kids in town, but for the last five days he’s been quiet as a mouse. I almost didn’t recognize him when he came into our class on Thursday to invite us to the game. His decibel level couldn’t be considered a mumble at that point.

The extent of my futboll skills are best described by the following press release, “Despite my lack of grace and skill and taking into account how disgusting my three goals were, I am unabashedly and profoundly proud of my performance.” The best part was that because of my goals our team won and therefore did not have to pay for the field.

It was good to see teenage boys spending time productively and given the opportunity a small percentage might want to do more of it. The fields are kind of expensive (two dollars an hour). It was also good to see young kids betting on sports. If you lose, you pay double because you have to pay for the victors. To the victors go the spoils.

I then went home and ate 3 to 4lbs of spaghetti. Albania, great nation or greatest nation?

Today was a great day. I went on a hike with two friends living in another town and a couple of their host brothers and neighbors. It was a good group and good times were had by all. Our goal (as all my hiking goals have been in Albania thus far) was a cell phone tower. We hiked up to a grassy knoll and took a break to shoot JFK. I kid. We did hike up to a grassy knoll though. There we had a quasi sound of music experience (without the music) playing soccer and volleyball and watching in awe as a certain someone performed acts of incredible agility before proceeding up to the tower.

Albania is a beautiful country. I can’t say enough about it and when you get off the roads the garbage is gone. Wild dogs and sheep don’t litter.

At one point we had to throw rocks at a dog and after hiking past it and up a hill the two brothers pointed back down at the bushes that the dog ran into and I saw something white which I assumed was the dog so I said, “qeni” which means “the dog.” A second later it was apparent that the white thing was the shall of a “gyshe” or “a grandma.” This was a pretty good joke though and they laughed at me.

The older host brother was wearing a straw hat (it was similar to the one Eric stole from Krupp during the 2nd (or was it 3rd?) Santa Cruz trip only it was the narrow shape of an old British admiral’s hat). When I told him I liked it we traded hats for the rest of the hike.

During one of our breaks I witnessed a childhood game in which on person (the first party) stands with a 90 degree bend in their hips and grabs the legs of someone (the second party) who is facing them for support. Then a third party thinks of a number and tells it to a fourth party and after the number is set the third party jumps on the back of the first party and the first party tries to guess the number. It’s unique to say the least. We also had a jumping contest and played soccer on top of a rampart shaped retaining wall.

Good hike, beautiful scenery, good conversations in English and Shqip AND I didn’t even have to use my AK…I have to say, today was a good day.