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Monday, August 2, 2010

Dadada dadada DAS-MA!

The following is a chronology of a weekend I spent going to an Albanian wedding with my host family in their village (Thane). The times are fictional, but the events are real. I will try not to exaggerate the descriptions.

1:30 I get into a Fergon to Tirana (the capital) with my friend and fellow volunteer Erwin. We sit in the back and our conversation quickly dies with the onset of body odor (ours), heat, a lack of moving air, and no water. The drowsiness that followed was intense and I am convinced that sweating this much is unrealistic.

3:45 We fall out of the fergon and buy cold water. Life is worth living again.

4:00 We go to the Kolonat (a fast food chain) because it has air conditioning. We order fries and a soda. You have to pay for ketchup, but it was worth it (Erwin paid).

4:30 After getting directions from Erwin and taking a sink shower in the bathroom I start the 10 minute walk to the fergons going to Elbasan. Erwin gave me directions with the caveat that he isn’t good at giving directions so I asked a security guard and he told me they were on the next street. Huzzah!

4:41 There is only one fergon going to Elbasan and it has no one in it. Fergons only leave when they are full so there is no actual schedule like there is for buses. A courtesy rule exists that if you sit in a fergon then you have to ride with it. If another one pulls up and needs one passenger you can’t switch because i) your first driver would be pissed and ii) the new driver wouldn’t take you because the rule was created by drivers. Initially I walk past the fergon to see if there are other options, but eventually decide to ask when he is leaving. He thinks I asked where he’s going and replies “Elbasan, Come.” I really don’t want to wait because it’s so damn hot and I say, “But you have no people.” He finishes my sentence with me and throws his hands up in the air. I tell him I’m late, didn’t mention the wedding, just that I was late for an unknown event. He runs down the street after telling me “Come Come” and introduces me to a cab driver who will take me to Elbasan for the fergon price. This is a hell of a deal because I get to sit in the front seat of a late model Benz wagon with my own window instead of the back seat of a late model ford van with three windows for twelve heat producing people.

5:10 I’m guessing that I got this deal because the family in the back of the taxi paid the taxi rate and the cab driver is taking me on the cheap for some petty cash. Tirana and Elbasan are separated by some beautiful mountains and I’m barely sweating because my window is rolled down. I see a castle on top of a small peak and am determined to hike to it some day. It’s near a town called Mullet. Things are getting better.

6:00 I am in Elbasan (a city I know relatively well because we had training there). I go to the ATM and get into a fergon heading past my village. I remember this driver. We get stopped by the police (a policeman waved a little red “stop” sign at the driver). The driver goes through the normal rigamarole of getting stopped by Albanian police (whatever that is) and in fifteen minutes we are moving again. At this point I’ve easily sweated through my shirt 4 times today. Each city I’ve arrived in today has been hotter than the previous and that trend continues as I tell the fergon driver to stop right outside my host family’s house. The driver takes off before I get my bag out of his trunk even though he was courteous enough to tell me “don’t forget your bag.” So I run behind him and hit his back window until he stops and I can retrieve my bag. I yell “good road.” At him as he drives away.

6:30 I greet my host family and for the first time I get the handshake, hug and cheek kiss from my host parents. I visit with Rezarta (host mom) over coffee and describe my trip to get there and a little about Peshkopi. She talks generally about life in the village and then tells me that Sali’s sister, who had breast cancer, died a month ago. My host father, Sali, comes home and insists that after I take a shower we go drink a beer at his favorite local. At the local he tells me he drank two glasses of Raki that day. He is a promoter of drinking when it’s hot outside. We talk about Peshkopi, politics, how much we plan on drinking at the wedding (this becomes a running joke for the weekend) and about his sister who passed away. He told me he cried when he found out and that you never know when it will be your turn to die. Today you may be strong and healthy, but tomorrow…dead he said in conjunction with the Albanian hand signal for death (turning a palm up hand palm down). We talked about the day I left for Peshkopi and he said he was sad all day and I told him I was too. Then after the third time my host sister came to the bar to get us we went home to eat dinner.

8:30 Pork chops, grilled peppers, cheese and the best tomatoes I’ve ever eaten. When Sali drinks Raki all day Rezarta gets nervous. To literally translate what Sali kept repeating over dinner, “She has fear because I drink Raki, only a little.” Rezarta would reply, “no john, he drank a lot.” Then Sali would say, “She has fear.” It was pretty funny and the situation wasn’t serious, but this brought up how many beers we planned to drink at the wedding the next day. I started out modestly with 5 and Sali increased my number to 7. Then I made it an even 10. I’m not sure why this was so funny to us, but it was decided that I would drink 42 beers tomorrow.

10:30 After finishing the Dolf Lundgren movie we were watching I go to bed and fall asleep immediately.

2:00 I wake up because it’s so hot. I’ve sweated through my pillow. I have fear that I will never stop sweating. I eventually fall asleep again, around 5am because I can hear the roosters crowing.

8:00 I wake up, again drenched in sweat, with two or three flies on me and drink coffee and raki with my host mom (she has only coffee) and watch the action movie channel with my host brother. My host mom leaves and tells me that my host brother and I will meet them at the wedding at noon.

9:00 I go into Elbasan (largest city in the area) with my host brother because he wants to buy clothes for the wedding. He is looking for white slacks and a pink button down shirt. No one has either so he settles for black pants and a black and purple shirt. We head back to Thane after eating some byrek.

11:00 I start to get ready for the wedding by taking a shower, but when I get out I am told that the wedding will start at 5pm. So I watch some more action movies with my host brother and we both fall asleep on the couch because it’s too hot not to.

3:00 Host parents and sister return and ask why we aren’t ready. We have no excuse and I quickly shower again and get ready. I realize I have no belt and ask my host father if I can borrow one. This act of forgetfulness and the realization that his belt has no chance of fitting me without a new hole being punched 3 inches behind that last one reminds me of every wedding or formal family event I’ve ever been to. I always forget something, a belt, a jacket, socks, shoes. It’s not a big deal because my pants don’t really need one to stay up. As soon as I put pants and a shirt on I’m sweating. New goal in life: to not sweat.

3:30 The five of us pile into the back of a compact car and drive to Cerrik (the town closest to the village). We end up at a bar and begin to drink beers. We stay here chit chatting with other folks who are also going to the wedding for two hours. Everyone asks if I speak Shqip and are impressed when I reply with very basic sentences. My host dad jokes that he taught me Shqip single handedly.

5:30 We arrive, by similar transport, at the wedding. Here I find out that the wedding is actually the next day and that this is a party for the friends and family of the bride. Its like a wedding though in that everyone is dressed nice and doing wedding things: eating, dancing in a circle, carrying on…I am too hot to circle dance and am relieved when no one mentions that I should be doing it (this was surprising to the extent of confusion, but honestly it was pushing mid 90’s in temperature). I was introduced to a beautiful Albanian girl who lives in Italy. Our attempts at conversation were pitiful. She spoke a little English and couldn’t understand my Shqip and I can’t speak Italian. The first thing she said to me was ‘I like America.” When I replied with “I like Albania.” Her face soured and she said she doesn’t like being in Albania. Despite all my best efforts to say the wrong thing and the fact that I was just pouring sweat she decided to exchange facebook names and take a few pictures with me. Luckily the sweat didn’t show up in the photos.

6:00 I meet the groom and bride. The groom speaks English very well (he lives in England and has for ten years). He asks me if I like Albania and when I tell him the usually answer (its beautiful, nice people) he says that’s what all foreigners say, but it’s not always true. Then we have a more honest conversation about what we see as problems in Albania. I ask if he will stay in England to start a family and he says that he thinks so because it’s more stable and there are more opportunities. I tell him that’s what immigrants always say. We laugh a little about this, but I regret saying because most Albanians I’ve talked with don’t see much potential or the opportunity for improvement in their country. I know my host brother plans to work elsewhere and that my host father would go back to Italy if he could. He’s been deported twice and, according to him, if you get deported three times then you can never get an EU visa (although it’s probably hard to get any visa if you’ve been deported twice).

7:30 Surprise, It’s hotter now than it was at noon and now our table is getting direct sunlight. We decide to change tables and after moving to one in the shade the whole table comments about how “fresh” this table is compared to the old table (which I had chosen at random). The party is dying down a little bit and now the young women are taking pictures of each other posing next to a fake deer. “Woodland Glamour Shots” are big here. It’s perfectly normal for girls to get pictures taken of them posing like they are picking fruit and, apparently, leaning on stationary animals.

8:30 We say our goodbyes and finally someone comments on the fact that I didn’t circle dance. This becomes a topic for debate and I stick to my story that it was so hot all I could do was drink beer. This cuts the tension and I promise that I will dance the next day.

9:00 We eat dinner in front of the TV (actually, it was this night we watched the Dolf Lungren movie). Sali and I talk about how many beers we drank and how many we will drink the next day, grossly exaggerating on both counts. My host mom keeps chiming in that we shouldn’t drink that much and we tell her that she drank a lot. Telling Rezarta that she’s drinking too much becomes another joke. She keeps stating that she only had two beers and we reply with astonishment “shume” (a lot). Then we switch back to how much we will inevitably drink at the wedding…8, 13, 19, 35, 50 beers. Again, no idea why this was funny to the three of us, but it could be because we were drinking in the sun for three hours.

3:00 I wake up and my bed is a lake of sweat. I lay on the tile and sleep until five then move back to the bed.

8:00 I wake up hoping for the standard breakfast I used to eat while I lived with the Salufi’s, but as we will be fed enough for two days at the wedding no one is eating breakfast. I drink a coffee and a shot of pre-made martini (really sweet and awful).

10:00 We are ready for the wedding so we go to the prefunk bar that we patronized the day before and drink beers. The wedding is starting at 12:00 so we drink beers for two hours and I know I need to eat something…only thing I can find is some sugar free gum. Not exactly the calories I was looking for, but at least it makes my third beer taste bad. We head to the wedding which is at the same venue as the day before, but inside the building rather than outside. Bam! Air Conditioning!

12:30 Sali is making jokes about why we haven’t gotten food yet. This is after an hour of figuring out where we should sit. There are more people here today, but the groom is missing. I ask Sali and he says that it’s customary for the groom to arrive halfway through with his whole family. My host brother was conscripted into service as the money collector. While people are circle dancing they are dropping money for the bride and groom and after the dance he runs out like he’s retrieving tennis balls at Wimbledon and snatches up the bills and stuffs them into a non-descript cardboard box.

1:00 I eat a much needed plate of food to even out my six beers and I’m feeling coordinated enough to start circle dancing. I know the sweat will begin, but it’s strange that I’m not dancing. I wait until my host sister goes out and latch onto her. The steps of the circle dance change with the songs so once you learn one then its time to learn another. I am encouraged that the girl I spoke with the day before doesn’t know the steps either. Some circle dances involve running and a crack the whip style pulling on the person’s arm that is following you and others are slow. It depends on the song and the person leading the circle.

2:00 I keep getting Gezuars (cheers) from Spiro (a random guy I met) because the day before Sali told him I was a (political) leftist. Spiro has determined that I am a supporter of the Albanian Socialist Party. When we gezuar we both say cheesy stuff like “red heart” and “good heart” and “political left.” It’s pretty funny. Sali is a supporter of the Albanian Democratic Party and has argued politics a little too swiftly for me to follow surrounded by socialist supporters at both of the pre-party trips to the bar. I have as much loyalty and faith in a political party here as I do in the states.

3:00 The groom and his family arrive and I stand in the greeting line. Not sure if this is kosher, but no one is telling me NOT to. The Albanians on the bride’s side keep asking if I like Albanian weddings and I keep replying “of course.” I shake 50 people’s hands and greet them all with at least three greetings. I greet the groom in English and congratulate him again.

3:30 A young man lip synchs an 80’s love ballad, but his mic is live so as he moves around the speakers squeal. It’s pretty funny and Sali keeps telling me he’s not really singing (which is also funny). He argues with his friend about the authenticity of the performance.

4:00 The importance placed on weddings in Albania is obvious, but after learning that tomorrow all the people at this wedding will go to Vlore for the groom’s weeding and then after that there is a party for his friends puts a new perspective on it. This wedding also made clear the importance of funeral traditions. As I mentioned earlier Sali’s sister passed away from breast cancer and out of respect none of the adults in his family danced at the wedding and all the women in the family are wearing black for six months or a year depending on how close they were to her. I’m reminded of my first experience seeing an Albanian funeral. I was in a fergon bound for Tirana. As we approached the first stretch of “rruga keq” (bad road) we came upon a line of cars. There is no traffic from Peshkopi to Tirana so I was confused until I saw the line of 200 men in black walking in a line past the line of cars and the 10 old men carrying the coffin up a dirt path to the cemetery.

5:30 The gezuar line (cheers line) is back. This is a line of people going table to table cheersing everyone. It’s rude to refuse a gezuar and I wouldn’t think of it. I’m trying to count how many beers my host father and his friend have tipped back. Has to be over ten, but he’s not faded. Now they bring out the cake and play a special cake slicing song and we all clap to it. They cut the cake and put cake on each others faces or maybe they just feed each other cake in a messy playful way. Hard to tell.

6:00 The groom and his people leave and then the bride leaves, but the party keeps on. The music has changed and low and behold they are playing Ricky Valenz. The girls have also finally taken off their stilettos and are dancing in socks.

6:30 We are leaving and say goodbye to everyone. Outside we run into a friend of Sali’s and invite him to coffee, but then he realizes he locked his key in the car after an argument about who’s fault it is all the men stand around the car and offer advice while a mechanic from across the street works to open the rear window. Eventually he gets the keys and we go home and watch Bourne Ultimatum on the action channel while continuing the running gag about how much my host mom drank and how little Sali and I did.

10:00 I wake up on the couch and everyone is already in bed. I move to my bed and sleep through the night for the first time in five days. When I rise at 7:00 I feel better rested than I have for a long time. I have coffee and raki with my host mother (again, she doesn’t drink the raki). She tells me to get ready for the wedding. I tell her that I have to go back to Peshkopi because I have work the next day (technically true). She tells Sali and he says that there will be a limousine. I say that I thought the wedding was one day not three and that next time I will take more time off. This is acceptable. I wait until they are ready to leave and we wait on the road together.

8:00 A fergon approaches with room for one (driver held up one finger). Sali stops it and I say goodbye to everyone and get the hug cheek kiss combo again. I’m sad to leave because their house is the most relaxing place on earth, but I am also glad that I won’t have to drink 10 beers and get sweaty dancing (although I will surely get sweaty dancing). This fergon has a radiator problem and we stop every 5 minutes for the driver to run into a store, house, or mechanic to fill up a water bottle to fill the radiator. This adds about 20 minutes to the drive to Elbasan. I don’t mind, 20 minutes is nothing when you consider it’s an eight hour journey back to Peshkopi.

9:15 I walk to my favorite Pasticeri (bakery) and buy two slices of pizza and two pastafleures. This was a daily tradition in training with a buddy of mine. The pastafluere is different, but I don’t care. I walk to the fergons to Tirana and get into a nice one (a new minivan). I think it’s a taxi at first, but I am told the price is the same so I get in (now im locked into this fergon). We have trouble finding the last person needed to leave for Tirana and so we drive between two traffic circles for 20 minutes. I don’t mind, 20 minutes is nothing when you consider it’s a nine hour journey back to Peshkopi.

10:00 I see the castle outside of Mullet again (yes, a town named mullet) and re-swear a personal oath to go there someday.

10:45 We arrive in Tirana and I walk to the Kolonat to get some food. Its pouring rain, but I have my trusty umbrella so I don’t mind. I make a terrible mistake and order the chicken burger. After inspecting the inside of the breaded chicken patty I notice that the color of the chicken is not the color of any meat on god’s green earth. Is greenish pink a color? I resign myself to eating only the fries. I take a quick sink shower and then catch a bus to zogu I zi (black bird) where the transports to Peshkopi are. I feel pretty awesome catching a bus to Black Bird for no real reason. There aren’t any fergons, but there is a bus leaving in an hour and a half. I talk to the driver and say hello three ways then ask when he’s leaving (just to start the conversation). He tells me where he is going. I tell him that I want to go there too and he tells me “wahn ohclok.” I give him a thumbs up and say okay. I don’t mind, an hour and a half is nothing when you consider it’s a ten and a half hour journey back to peshkopi. I go to a cafĂ© to drink a macchiato and slowly sip the cold water they serve.

12:50 I get on the bus and get a good seat (under a roof vent). The bus is overly full and by that I mean people are sitting on beer crates in the aisle. The driver is fast and reckless in a completely unremarkable way for Albania. I can’t help but think about the bus that flipped in Shkoder recently.

2:30 About halfway through a very normal ride to Peshkopi (windy road, beautiful scenery) we come upon a car that’s broken down. Our driver stops to see if he can help and we end up towing the car all the way to Maqellar (30 minutes outside of Peshkopi on the boarder with Macedonia).

4:30 Before we get to Maqellar we almost get hit by one of the most out of control cars I’ve ever seen. It was raining and I was randomly looking out the front windshield when I see a car speeding towards us. It is on a straight trajectory, but the driver and passenger sides are quickly alternating as the side on our collision course. Dumb luck keeps our bus from t-boning it and killing everyone inside. No idea how the car we were towing dodged it.

5:15 Almost back to Peshkopi when our bus loses control for a second and fishtales.

5:45 Back in Peshkopi and a young woman’s back has fallen out of the luggage hold under the bus somewhere on our drive. A crowd gathers (as it does for everything). Fifteen minutes later a fergon stops and gives the girl her bag (it had picked it up on the road). The driver looks relieved. The bus drives up to the boulevard and I get out. I’m glad to be home.

7:00 I buy a roasted chicken and eat half of it with a Greek salad. I’m done. Its over.