Wordless Wednesday: Rooms With Views

The view from our bedroom in Albania

and the view from our Belgian bedroom

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: One Of My Favorite Albanian Scenes

As I wind down to my final few weeks in Albania, I've been revisiting some of my favorite pictures from our time here.

And finally:

Our view for the past 31 months; to me, this is Albania:

Show Me The Neighborhood: Tirana, Albania

Here's my latest blogging activity.  Today's entry is a part of Piri-Piri Lexicon's "show me your neighborhood around the world" project and as such, I'm doing my part to introduce the world to Tirana, Albania.

The rules are simple:  Post a minimum of six pictures of typical scenes from around your neighborhood.  Photos must be taken by the blogger (in this case me!) and include a typical mode of transportation, a school or educational facility, a market or shopping facility, a typical house, a nearby street, and a playground.

It sounds simple enough, right?  It is until I realized that "typical" in Albania is anything but.  As I have written about in previous blog entries, Albania is simultaneously trapped in a time warp and barreling forward full force in time.  Because of this you can see both old and new, traditional and modern all in the same city block.  And these pictures reflect this contrast but to me, this is what Albania is all about.

Transportation:

Albanian transportation...its takes all forms.  Bright yellow Mercedes taxis (top left)
are popular as are donkeys  (lower left) and horse drawn cart (middle right).   Entire families
will pile onto motorbikes (lower left) and those who are fortunate enough to own their own
cars turn them to haul cargo as well as people  (upper right).

School or educational facility:

This is a new school and well maintained school located in suburban Tirana.
Albanian schools, regardless of when they were built, are utilitarian and don't
have a warm vibe surrounding them.  The locked gate surrounding the school
continues this unwelcoming message.

Market:

Super, or hyper, markets are now readily available but my favorite places to shop are the local
markets. These are loud and chaotic affairs where no one speaks English but everyone is eager
to sell you their wares. If you want fresh, local produce this is the place to go.  You can find (top)
 freshly roasted sheep heads, (lower left) nuts and dried peppers, and (lower right) all types of
olives and pickled vegetables.

Typical house:

Typical housing in urban areas falls into two categories.  There are five to ten
story apartment buildings (top); some are walk ups and others have small elevators.
Others are "single" family homes that actually house multi-generations of the same
family (bottom).  This house is across the street from me and has three generations
living in it. As is often the case the bottom two stories are complete with the upper
 two remaining unfinished until that space is needed, i.e. when one of the sons, or in
this case grandsons, gets married and moves his bride into this family home.   

A nearby street:

Both of these pictures are streets in Tirana.  The one on the left is a typical urban
through fare while the one on the left is more suburban.   It is a common sight during
the early morning and evening hours to see farmers walking their small flock of
sheep or cows home for the day.

Playground:

Albanians love children and they are welcome everywhere; therefore, playgrounds are everywhere.
From restaurants and cafes to shopping malls and neighborhood street corners, you are likely to find a
playground.  Ironically, most are little more than a few pieces of metal playground equipment and would
 be deemed unsafe by American standards.  This picture, taken at a neighborhood cafes, is  one of the
safer and new structures we have encountered.

Traffic Jam

Today is the single day of the year that I've learned to dread during my past three Septembers here in Albania.  The third Monday of the month means the start of the Albanian school year for both public primary and secondary schools and as well as the public universities.  After the first day of school students will get themselves their via bus or walking but on this first day, everyone, regardless of age or their physical distance from school, seems to be chauffeured their in private vehicles.  (Hence the traffic jam).  I know I get spoiled during August when everyone flees the city for the beach and the streets are all but deserted regardless of the time of day.  And then, seemingly overnight, everyone has returned to the streets of Tirana causing the inevitable congestion that turns our less than five minute commute from our house to the Embassy into thirty minutes of sheer hell and frustration.  And this year, despite knowing what was coming, was the worst one yet.

 

It was raining when I woke up this morning.  Dark clouds loomed over the city and rain was coming down in buckets.  Traffic is always bad when it is raining.  In addition to the weather problems, this year we have active road construction going on between our house and the Embassy.  On the best of days this often causes traffic to bottleneck and move at a snail's pace.  I should have suspected how bad the traffic was when our normally punctual nanny (she actually always arrives early) arrived a few minutes late saying that the traffic was bad.  I had seen the line slowly snaking down the road when I had peeked out the window earlier but I had assumed that it was just a momentary blip.  Oh how I wish that was the case.  As we pulled out onto the main road I immediately saw how bad it really was.  Traffic simply wasn't moving in either direction. 

 

Actually, I take that back.  Traffic was flowing down the hill in the far left lane that was under construction. Yes, furgons and Mercedes were dodging the construction equipment that despite the heavy rain, was trying to make progress on the new road.  Slowly, ever so slowly we moved down the hill and after some time we saw a bus heading up the road towards us.  But then it had to stop since it was met head on with yet another car that had decided to bypass our long line of traffic and zip down the other lane.  Perhaps the driver thought he was more important than the rest of us but for whatever reason he decided that he wasn't going to sit at a standstill in the long line of cars.  Unfortunately, this is an all too common occurrence in Tirana and only adds to the traffic problems.  Despite his numerous attempts, no one was willing to let him squeeze into the line ahead of them.  Usually someone caves which only perpetuates the bad behavior.  But with the bus unable to move forward, traffic only continued to idle.  Finally we saw a police officer trudging down the hill with an umbrella. Naively I thought that he might be on his way to give the illegal driver a ticket. But because this is Albania, that wasn't the case. Instead the officer ordered a car to create a break for the wrong doer and allowed him into the cue.  And yes folks, this is partially why we have so many traffic problems.

 

But the commute only got worse since we weren't quite half way to the Embassy at this point.  Remember all of the cars that I had said were driving through the active construction zone?  Well, half of them were realizing they shouldn't go any further and were trying to turn around and head back up the hill.  The other half were trying to squeeze across two oncoming lanes of traffic (that really should have only been one lane) to merge into the line heading down the hill. And this inevitably caused more problems.  At one intersection there were cars trying to simultaneously turn right and left which resulted in no one being able to move in any direction. We were so distracted by this mess, with yet another police officer haphazardly standing in the middle of it all, that we almost missed the ten or so people who spontaneously jumped out of their vehicles and ran to what appeared to be a stalled car. But it wasn't a stalled car; rather the car had driven into an open man hole and its tire was now stuck.  The group of men lifted the car out of the hole before returning to their own vehicles.  And then traffic resumed creeping along as though nothing out of the (Albanian) ordinary had happened.

 

And that is the strange thing; vehicle congestion, road hazards that would be unimaginable in the western world, and a blatant disregard for traffic laws coupled with an inability by the police to enforce them are every day occurrences in Albania.  It is not unusual to see vehicles driving in the wrong direction, running red lights, turing left from the right lane and vice versa or speeding by the hapless police officers who attempt to flag them down.  Some days, like today, are simply worse than others.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Tirana By Foot

Busts--and these are the
"friendly" looking ones

I rarely walk in Tirana.  Between the lack of consistent sidewalks and safe infrastructure, the traffic that is just as apt to park and drive on the broken sidewalks as they are to drive on the streets, and the complete disregard for pedestrian safety, (ironically) driving is just a safer option.  That said, when I do drive I am so busy being on the lookout for the a fore mentioned drivers that I usually miss the sights.  I've heard of most of the major sites and have even directed others to them but have never visited most of them myself.  This past weekend, however, I got out and walked and saw a whole new side of the city that I had been missing.

At its heart, Tirana is a former Communist city and that is readily evident where ever you turn.  From the broad main boulevard that runs between the city's two main squares to the vast squares themselves, you can see remnants of the past.  One square, named after the national hero is lush and green and lined with meticulously maintained ministry buildings, museums, and that national opera house.  The other square is a neglected concrete jungle where traffic speeds around parked cars and meandering pedestrians.  Ironically, it is this square that is named for Mother Teresa, who is perhaps the most internationally recognized Albanian in history.  A small and appropriately humble statue of the nun sits in the back corner of the square.  I had always heard that it was there but until I got out and walked I had never actually seen her.  The bronze statue itself was nice but the area immediately surrounding it was dirty, neglected, and covered with glass shards.  It did little to pay homage to her greatness.  And speaking of statues, like all good Communist countries, both current and former, statues are everywhere.  Some are prominent while others are discretely tucked away but all seem to have the same rigid bodies and stern unsmiling faces.

A view from one end of
the boulevard

Beyond the statues, Tirana has other must see landmarks that are best appreciated on foot.  The iconic pyramid, once a grand display of architecture honoring the country's late dictator and now a decrepit and graffiti covered eyesore, speaks to both Albania's past and present.  Tirana's newest memorial pays homage to the country's (recent) dark Communist past in both a whimsical and serious way.  Churches and mosques sit side by side and demonstrate Albania's long history of religious tolerance.  The front facade of the museum of national history boasts a large tiled mosaic depicting Albanian history from ancient to modern times.  Driving by while dodging traffic just doesn't do it justice; it takes standing in front of the building to really appreciate all of the details.

And then there is the every day Tirana.  Walking along the bustling Saturday morning sidewalks I saw shops and cafes I never knew existed--or had only heard about but didn't know where they were located. Some were fancy and others were little more than holes in the wall.  People of all ages were out and about; men both young and old lounged at sidewalk tables while clusters of old women clutching plastic shopping bags hobbled down the sidewalk.  Roma pan handlers shared sidewalk space with young couples pushing pimped out baby strollers which made walking on the narrow and uneven sidewalks even more difficult.  (There are very few curb cuts on any Albanian sidewalks so easy access for all but the most mobile is non-existent).  Street vendors selling everything from grilled corn and fresh flowers to cell phones, used shoes,  and paperback books added to the hustle and bustle.

But all of this made Tirana feel real.  All too often it is easy to not experience only one side of a city.
As a visitor to a city you might see the polished tourist attractions but how often do see how people really live?  I know that when we travel to new places we try to get out of the expected areas and see what the communities are really like.  And after two years, we finally did this right in our (temporary) home.  We saw the sights, both good and bad, the historic and the modern; we got caught up in organized tours and local crowds, and saw the Tirana as it really is.  We really should have done this sooner but I'm glad we finally did it.  In our next city I won't wait as long to do it.

Discovering a part of Albania's recent past

Going To Da' Dawgs

My neighborhood has a dog problem.  Like most of Tirana's neighborhoods we have our share of stray street dogs who roam the neighborhood picking through trash bags and generally making nuisances of themselves.  During the hot days they seek out the shady areas of the nearby park where they congregate in packs; colder days find them seeking shelter on the streets, or if we aren't careful and leave our gate open, in our yard.  I don't know if they are especially dangerous but when feasible, I go out of my way to avoid them.  At night they seem to come alive running in packs with their barking, yapping, and occasional disruption of traffic flow.  Since we arrived here we've been instilling in Sidney the mantra that you just do not touch the dogs.  This is hard since little boys love dogs - or qeni as they are called in Albanian- and both Glenn and I grew up in households with dogs.  Not all dogs are bad but that concept is too complex for Sidney to comprehend at the moment and so we are better off avoiding all of them.

When we moved into our house over a year ago, it seemed as though few people in our neighborhood actually owned dogs as pets.  Not counting Robert the mangy German Shepard who serves as a "guard" dog--his bark is louder than his bite-- at the abutting Turkish Embassy, the only pet dog in our neighborhood was the once white terrier living across the street.  Most days the little dog has free reign to run the streets and makes regular attempts to escape into our gated yard when the opportunity arises.  He has also taken a special liking to Glenn and will nip at his heels and latch onto his pant legs whenever he can.  (Fortunately this dog shows no interest in either me or Sidney).

Recently I've noticed a new, not so pleasant phenomenon in our neighborhood; dogs as status symbols.  These are the rough and tough breeds of dogs-- Doberman Pinchers, Rottweilers, and Pitt Bulls-- that have dominated American tough guy culture in recent decades.  I know that these breeds often get an unjust, bad rap but it only takes a few bad examples to spoil the reputation of a breed.  (My brother and sister-in-law had a big Rottweiler who was as sweet as can be and their white Pitt Bull named Pickles is essentially a lap dog who gets dressed up in sweaters to fend off the Maine cold each winter). 

So it would appear that tough-guy dogs have arrived in Albania.  These certainly aren't sweater wearing lap dogs although a couple do sport black leather spiked collars.  During the warmer months slouchy young men congregate on our street with their dogs in tow.  Like their owners, the dogs sniff each other out before the braver ones go in for the attack.  These aren't Michael Vick level dog fights but they certainly aren't PETA approved actions.  All of this goes on under the "watchful" eyes of the guards from the neighboring embassies.  On occasion I've said something to the men in my broken Albanian but my words have done nothing to stop the fights.  Now that the days are shorter and the weather has turned cold, the dogs seem to be hunkered down behind the neighborhood's walls.  Out of sight doesn't mean out of mind, however.  All it takes is one dog, who for whatever reason, breaks into a barking fit, and all of the others soon join in.  The barking and yelping echos through the cold, concrete filled darkness and without seeing what is happening it sounds as though the world's largest dog fight is taking place.  The sounds may be scary but the noise has become so frequent that I am noticing them less and less. 

Don't get me wrong; dogs make great pets and are valued members of many families.  But as family members they need to be taken care of with the same consideration that is shown to all family members.      Pet shops have been popping up all over Tirana and I've seen quite a few dogs that are obviously pampered (can you say matching owner-pet outfits???) but the ones in my neighborhood don't seem to fall into this category.  And that is sad.  I wish there were laws in Albania governing how animals should be treated but I fear that any such laws are years away.  In the meantime, I wish people would move away from dogs as status symbols.  But alas, dogs are status symbols in many American communities and so it makes sense that this unfortunate trend would also migrate half way around the world.  I guess I need to brush up on my dog related Albanian phrases so I can clearly let the men on my street know that this behavior is not acceptable.

Ushering in 2012 With A Big Bang

The view from our third floor balcony

From the moment we arrived in Albania, people have been telling us that we must stay in Tirana for New Years. Albanians and Americans alike told us that if we stayed here, we would witness celebrations like we have never seen.  And after last night, I can say that New Years in Tirana is like nothing I have ever experienced.

We had been told to expect fireworks and told that our street would resemble the wild west as the midnight hour neared.  Now Albanians seem to love their fireworks.  When a local fireworks storage facility caught fire last month, Albanians were horrified not by the fire, but by the thought of losing all of those fireworks. During the summer wedding season, brief firework displays are a nightly occurrence.   Knowing this, we anticipated a few more flashes of light in the sky but that was about it.

The days leading up to the end of the year were ordinary enough; the usual crazy traffic, pushing crowds in the grocery store, and sense of post-Christmas let down.  I had been told that New Years is to Albanians as Thanksgiving is to Americans. This accounted for the herds of turkeys being peddled on the sides of the roads.  I was just thinking of the holiday as an opportunity for another four day weekend (at the Embassy we get two days off for the holiday- American New Years and Albanian New Years).

New Years Eve morning was cold and clear. With schools being out for the winter break, the neighborhood kids were out on the street early using our gate as a springboard for their basketball.  An occasional firecracker exploded in the neighborhood but even that wasn't unusual.  As the afternoon wore on the number of exploding firecrackers increased but it was by no means crazy outside.

Around 2200 the neighborhood kids started a bonfire in the road.  I knew we had been in Albania too long because I found this amusing rather than alarming.  The number of exploding firecrackers increased and a few kids went as far as throwing them over the wall into the Turkish Embassy compound next door.  The local guard force chased them off into the dark and again the street returned to a relative calm.

As the midnight hour approached I struggled to stay awake but I figured since I had lasted this long - for the first time in many years- I might as well stay awake for the remaining 15 minutes.

At the strike of midnight it seemed as if the entire city exploded in a burst of fireworks.  Unlike in the United States, Tirana doesn't have an official, government sponsored fireworks display. Fireworks are legal and it seemed as though every resident had their own personal stash.

For well over an hour the sky was illuminated with exploding fireworks.  We had a spectacular view from our third floor balcony. All of our neighbors were in the street, or on their roofs, shooting off fireworks, bottle rockets, and for the smallest of neighbors, sparklers. A few came precariously close to us, landing in our yard.  I saw this happening all over the City and but realized that in a land of concrete houses with clay roofs, the chances of a fire starting were pretty slim.

Glenn and I couldn't believe what we were seeing.  As Sidney slept inside, unaware of the exploding world around us,  we watched as the light display continued on and on.  The air was heavy with the smell of gun powder.  Everyone was right; we were witnessing a display unlike anything we had ever imagined.  Back in Norfolk, the mere sound of a firecracker had the cops investigating. (We remembered one Fourth of July when Glenn and his friend Chris shot off a few small fireworks in our yard. Within minutes the police were swarming our street searching for the source of the explosion).  But we aren't in Norfolk anymore. We're in the land of unregulated pleasures where anything goes.  

In the dawn of the new year, the smell of gun powder still lingers in the air.  An occasional firecracker continues to explode in the neighborhood, but then again, that is the norm.  Like most of our experiences here in Tirana, words and pictures just cannot do them justice.  New Years had been described to us and we didn't believe it until we too had experienced it.

Now 2012 is here and it literally started with a bang.  My one hope is that the rest of the year is quieter and less exciting than the first few minutes were.  Here's to a happy new year!

Ferrying the Adriatic

Summer is rapidly drawing to a close.  I start my new job this week and September will mark the beginning of the attache entertaining season.  With this in mind, this past weekend we decided to undertake what has become a tradition for military families stationed in Tirana.  We hopped the ferry and took off for a quick trip to the navy base in Naples, Italy.  Several times a year families will compile shopping lists and head off the the commissary and exchange for a whirlwind weekend of stocking up on all things familiar.

Waiting to disembark in Bari, Italy

Loaded down with as many coolers as we could fit in our car, we set off on a Thursday evening for the overnight car ferry from Durres, Albania to Bari, Italy.  We naively that we would all sleep the night away and arrive in Italy refreshed and ready to face the day.  Our "luxury" cabin might have had room for Sidney's pack 'n play but that didn't mean he was willing to sleep in it. Much to our chagrin, the 7 hour trip was all too reminiscent of our flight from the States to Albania.  Instead of gently rocking him to sleep, the sway of the boat only agitated Sidney into a state of exhausted crankiness.  (Always the naval officer, Glenn was a tad put out about the fact that his son likes neither airplanes nor ships).  

In our sleepless daze we navigated our way across the boot of Italy to Naples where we indulged in all things American.  I would never eat Taco Bell in the United States but it had a strangely comforting taste when eaten in the mall food court.  We marveled in the cleanliness of the base roads and parking lots and wandered aimlessly through the wide, well stocked aisles of the commissary.  It is amazing how quickly one becomes accustomed to their surroundings.  

We shopped from multiple lists- our own for personal use, items needed for entertaining (Albanians love to eat "American" foods and expect to be served them when dining in our home), and those from various friends who had asked us to pick up items that just cannot but found in Albania.  Always a list shopper I found myself throwing things into the cart just because there were available and I could.  I have a new found understanding of the hoarding mentality- who knows when I might have the opportunity to purchase these things again.

Our little 20 car ferry

The next morning we picked up our coolers of frozen items from the deep freezer at the commissary and hurried back across Italy to make our return ferry.  In the interest of keeping things from melting in the August heat, we opted for the high speed hydrofoil to reduce our ferry time to 3 1/2 hours.  Our return ferry was small, loud, and filled with hoards of vacationing Italians and Albanians.  Despite departing 1 1/2 hours late (my mind kept focusing on the many pounds of frozen meat we had packed in our coolers), with the exception of the mid-sea evacuation drill sirens that woke a finally sleeping Sidney, the trip was uneventful.

(Too???) soon we found ourselves back in the dirt parking lot that is the customs area for the port of Durres.  We quickly returned to reality as we joined the teeming hoards of people and cars dodging the Roma beggars being pursued by port police.   We had reentered a world that could not be more different than the orderly one we had just left behind yet we kept thinking hat at least we were almost home.

A full freezer

Filling the pantry shelves

It was such a blur of trip that Sunday morning we found ourselves wondering if we had really been to Italy and back over the course of a couple of short days.  One look at our full freezer and pantry reassured us that we had.

Figs

One of my favorite things about our time in Albania is the abundance of fresh produce.  And when I say fresh, I mean picked that morning fresh.  Here tomatoes taste the way tomatoes should taste and cucumbers, summer squash, peppers, and other garden delights have flavors that set them miles apart from those I was buying at the grocery store back home.

I was recently gifted with a very generous amount of fresh figs.  They were the sweetest, best tasting figs I have ever eaten and I was told that they are a "special type of fig that is only grown in Tirana".  They were at their peak when I received them so I immediately set about finding as many fig recipes as I could.  I quickly whipped up a batch of fig preserves and tried my hand at fig ice cream (both were successful!).  

Fig Ice Cream

Fig Preserves

I also made several loaves of sherry-fig bread which reminded me of warm fig newtons.

Sidney enjoying Sherry-Fig Bread

Figs with brie and prosciutto

I drizzled honey on some figs and grilled them and used some of the syrup that was left over from my preserves to make a glaze for pork chops.  I sliced the last of the figs and served them on top of slices of bread, prosciutto, and brie cheese that had been run under the broiler.

Whew!  After two days I think I am officially figged out.  We will have a short reprieve since another batch of fresh figs will be coming our way in a few weeks.  I'm told that these figs will be bigger but not as special since they can be grown throughout Albania and not just in Tirana.

Water, Water Everywhere??????

It seems like water is to be found everywhere except our house these days.  We have been in our house for over three weeks and we still can't connect into Tirana’s public water supply.  Someone from GSO stops by the house every day to check on the water levels in our storage tank, and as needed, drives over the pumper truck  to refill it.  I have no idea where the Embassy gets their water but I suspect they are filling our tank from the Embassy’s own water supply.  (I seriously doubt Tirana officials would allow the U.S. Embassy to be cut off from water!). 

Despite the ongoing drought at the Brown house, water seems plentiful in the rest of the city.  Our neighborhood might not be officially connected to the water system but Albanians are resourceful when it comes to getting their needs met. Case in point was the “construction” that occurred in front of our gate last Sunday night.  Two men were chipping away at the concrete and for a brief moment I thought it might be the water company coming to investigate the water problem.  (Since no one seems to wear uniforms or carry identification badges here, it is virtually impossible to tell who is with the City or local utility company).  I thought the men looked vaguely familiar and I soon realized that it was our next door neighbors that were hacking away at the pavement under the cover of darkness.  Within a few minutes I heard the unmistakable sound of water splashing from a hose.  Yes, you guessed it.  Our neighborhoods had hacked into the water system to meet their own needs.  By the next morning the only evidence that something out of the ordinary had taken place was the freshly poured bed of concrete that sat at the scene of the crime.

Our landlord has his very own pumper truck and stops by at least once a week to water our garden.  Actually, he stands in the driveway and tells me in broken English that he "is the best landlord in all of Tirana" while his wife, dressed in her Sunday best, sprays down our entire front yard, garden, and driveway.  While I understand his desire to keep his property looking nice, the sensible part of me says it is just wrong to waste so much water on keeping the driveway clean.  He is not alone in this, since all of our neighbors spray down their driveways and patios on a nightly basis.

A car wash abutting a neighborhood cafe

Many mornings, while I contemplate whether or not I should run a load of laundry, I see streams of water flowing by our house.  The source is yet another Albanian phenomenon.  Car washes are to Albanians what 7-11s are to Americans.  Signs advertising "lavazh" adorn billboards, sides of buildings, and  tent-like structures that serve as car washes.   It seems to me that there are several car washes on every block in this country.  This is true in both the city and the countryside.  A few look like established businesses that are readily recognizable as car washes.  Most, however, seem to be pop-up endeavors that appear on the side of roads, attached to houses, or most commonly, attached to the ubiquitous cafes that fill every street and neighborhood.  (How convenient is it to have your afternoon coffee and have your car washed at the same location?)  Young boys and old men alike stand in the blazing sun hand washing cars with rags and garden hoses attached to water tanks while listening to American pop music blasting on their radios.  

Two neighboring car washes.    

In this post-Communism country that seems to have more late-model Mercedes and BMWs than the Northern Virginia suburbs, people love their cars and take great pride in keeping them spotless.  Yes, there are older jalopies, whining mopeds, and unexciting American models that were sold by departing Americans, but the majority of cars on the roads are German imports that shine as though they were just driven off of the new car lot.  In a country where the average annual household income is just under $5,000, one has to wonder how families can afford such luxuries.  Or maybe we shouldn't think about it too much.....  

Regardless of how people have come into possession of these automobiles, they take great pride in maintaining their appearance and this isn't an easy feat in a country where everything is perpetually covered in a layer of fine dust.  One could argue that car washes are the type of small business that keeps the Albanian economy running. I wonder two things.  One is where do all of these businesses get their seemingly endless supply of water and who is footing the water bill.  The second is whether or not we have enough water so I can wash my clothes.

Settled......??.........

Friday was an exciting day here in Tirana.   Not only did our household goods finally arrive but we also had our internet service connected at the house.  Either of these sounds like simple enough endeavors, and they would be in the United States, but here in Albania, that is just not the case.

First, lets begin with the internet saga.  It seemed like a simple enough request.  We wanted to have internet, satellite television, and phone service connected at the house.  Abcom, the local internet company, had recently expanded its broadband service to our neighborhood and was offering a three-in-one package for internet, phone, and television service.  We decided this was the way to go since we needed a phone line and internet service and having access to local television would allow us to hone up on our Albanian language skills while keeping abreast with what is happening in the country.

The white wire on the right is our cable connection to the house

The first hiccup came about early on when using a translator, Glenn contacted the local Abcom office.  In Albania, instead of receiving a monthly bill for services, you sign either a six or twelve month contract then pay the full amount owed up front before service can be activated.  Sounds simple enough, right?  The previous tenants in our house had paid through October for a slower internet connection.  Abcom tried to convince us that we should just wait until the end of their contract before switching to the new service.  When we insisted that we wanted the new service we entered into a two week long cat and mouse game of waiting to "see if they could a create a new contract", "finding our address" (a street address didn't work but saying we were the house behind the Turkish Embassy did), and "waiting for our payment to clear" ( For some reason an electronic transfer from the bank is hard to track).   Since there is the language barrier, this resulted in a lot of playing phone tag and at least one day of my sitting in the house waiting for the installers to show up.  We've never had such a hard time getting a company to take our money.  Finally, on Friday morning, at the same time as our long awaited household goods were being delivered, two young men in a new Mercedes showed up to install our service.  (The technicians are freelancers who drive their own vehicles and service specific neighborhoods.  If we ever have a connection problem we call the technician directly).  They drilled a few holes in the wall of the house, snipped off old wires and left them hanging, and hung new ones and sure enough we are now reconnected with the world.  The installation methods might be a bit shaky, but this is the fastest connection we have ever had.

While we were being reconnected with the outside world, our household goods finally arrived.  They traveled a long route from DC to Norfolk, VA to Rotterdam, to Malta, and finally to Durres, Albania.  We had initially been told that they would arrive in country a full 10 days earlier than planned so we excitedly began making preparations for their arrival.  It was too good to be true since upon arrival in Durres, the crane in the port broke.  Yes, our household goods sat in the port for close to two weeks waiting for the crane to be fixed.  They were so close but so far and we had visions of our consumable shipment melting and fermenting in the hot Adriatic sun.

In the midst of unpacking 

But at last, the crane was repaired, our worldly goods cleared customs, and arrived via truck at 9:00 am sharp on Friday morning.  The efficient crew of five wasted no time unloading the truck and had all five crates emptied with boxes in the correct rooms within two hours.  This was no small feat since our house is three stories tall.  Glenn and I, with the help of our housekeeper who has the stamina of the Energizer bunny, unpacked, washed, and put away every last item.  We even unpacked boxes that were never unpacked during our Norfolk to DC move.  I had forgotten we had some of the things I found in the boxes.  (Maybe this is a sign that we need to simplify??)  The amount of paper produced would shock even the least environmentally friendly person.  I found that each piece of silverware had been individually wrapped yet my Simon Pearce bowl filled with fake apples was wrapped as a single unit.  (Come to think of it, the last set of movers did the same thing with the centerpiece). The total damage was two broken IKEA champagne glasses which is pretty impressive given the distance they traveled.
So now we are settled in and becoming reacquainted with our belongings.  Sidney is rediscovering toys he has forgotten about and I once again have knives that actually slice through vegetables.  Glenn has acquired two new remote controls and is figuring out the new channel line up on T.V.  Yes, we just might be settled in.  For the next 22 1/2 months that is.  Then we get to pack everything up again and move onto our next adventure!

The Utilities Conundrum

Summer is upon us and the intense heat is only one of the issues we must face on a daily basis.  As is the case in cities and towns across the world, when the heat kicks in, the air conditioning gets cranked up.  Rolling brown outs and even the occasional black out (anyone remember the black out of 2003  that affected a large swath of the East Coast?) are common in even the most highly developed parts of the world. 

Big Blue

During the heyday of communism in the 1950s, hydro-electric dams were built throughout Albania to provide electricity to rapidly expanding mines and factories.  Unfortunately, as Albania sunk deeper into her self-imposed isolationism, maintenance on these structures came to a standstill and we are still living with these repercussions today.  In Albania, rolling blackouts and the corresponding power surges are such a common occurrence that visitors are encouraged to “carry a torch” with them at all times.  We have experienced our share of questionable flickering and sparks flying off of power lines since we have arrived.  Prior to our arrival we had heard that the house was equipped with its own generator but no one could prepare us for the sight of big blue.  Yes, our generator, which really is the size of a VW bug, has its own name. 

During the midday hours I hear Big Blue kicking in at regular intervals.  To date, we haven’t experienced any debilitating power surges but we have all of our electronic equipment plugged into surge protectors to be safe and we are especially glad that we splurged and added a power surge clause to our USAA renter’s insurance policy.   Yes, they offer such a clause which makes me realize that the problem must also be common in places other than Albania.

the main water distiller

The other summer issue we face is the non-potable water supply throughout the country.  Older Albanians refer to it as Hoxha’s revenge, a reference to the Albania’s infamous dictator who ruled Albania with an iron fist from the 1940s until his death in 1985.  A few people will tell you that the tap water is fine to drink and I’m sure that the majority of native Albanians do drink it straight from the tap.  As Americans, we have been warned not to drink it straight from the tap.  Our house has been equipped with not one, but two water distillers (one for each kitchen!) from which we get all of our drinking and cooking water.  (As an added precaution we must soak all of our fruits and vegetables in a distilled water and bleach solution before eating them and we are discouraged from eating any raw fruits and vegetables that we have neither prepared ourselves or completely trust the cooking source.  This includes dining out in most restaurants).  Sidney has always been fascinated with all things water so I am facing the dual struggle of not allowing him to drink any of his bath water (undistilled) and keeping him from exploring the tap on the distiller.  At the moment I’m not having a lot of success on either of these fronts.

The water tank which is all too frequently empty

Before the water even gets into our distillers it must travel a rather indirect path from its source, through the City of Tirana’s Public Works water system and into the water holding tank in our backyard that takes up the majority of our green space.   From there it enters our house and goes into the individual water heaters that supply each of the two kitchens, the laundry room, and five bathrooms or into one of the two water distillers.  This works when there is both electricity coming into the house (hence the generator) and there is actually enough water in the City’s water supply to make this happen. 

As we have already discovered early on a Saturday morning, it is a common occurrence for the water supply to run dry during the summer months.  This is actually a problem for our entire neighborhood but no one told us this.  Of course we only discovered that we didn’t have any water when I went to turn on the shower and no water came out.  When we do run out of water, the Embassy’s water truck will refill our tank but only if we tell them it is necessary.  In the typical Albanian way, there isn’t a gauge on the tank that lets us know when we are running low on water.  Our predecessors had warned us that this could happen and suggested we follow their lead by rigging a fishing pole over the top of the water tank so we can easily gauge how much water we have.  For some reason they took their pole with them when they left and we hadn’t felt a sense of urgency to replace it yet.  We now have water again but have added a fishing rod to the top of our shopping list.  In the mean time, we are on an automatic delivery schedule with the Embassy for twice a week.  There is no word from the City of Tirana as to when the water might start flowing from their taps again.

Cows in Tirana

I had a job interview earlier this week. Since it was a State Department position at the Embassy I put on my best black interview suit for the occasion.  This was in spite of the fact that the temperatures have been unbearable lately.  Albanians say it is “shumë vapë” (very hot) and are aghast that we won’t be taking a “pushime” to the sea this summer.  Since we just arrived here it doesn’t seem right that we would take a vacation so soon regardless of what the weather is and will continue to be for the next two months.  Anyway, I digress………….

So after donning a suit for the first time in over a year and using my shaky Albanian to reassure Sidney’s nanny that it is ok to let him cry and that she does not need to watch him the entire time he is sleeping (I am serious here, she will stand in his room and watch him sleep in case he needs anything. I am trying to reassure her that this just isn’t necessary)—I left the house.  Now our house is in what is considered a nice residential neighborhood in Tirana. Our immediate neighbors include the Turkish and Romanian Embassies and the Russian Ambassador’s residence.  While this isn’t Embassy Row in D.C. it certainly isn’t an undeveloped neighborhood. 

The path up

As I have mentioned before, however, the roads leave a lot to be desired.  Since we are still without a car I set out on foot for the 15 minute walk to the Embassy.  If the roads are bad the sidewalks- where they even exist- are even worse.  Manhole covers are routinely non existent and put a whole new meaning into Shel Silverstein’s ­Where the Sidewalk Ends.  To shorten the time I would actually have to walk along the road, I decided to take the short cut that skirts the American Embassy’s housing compound.  I had heard about this shortcut but when I first saw it my immediate thought was that it was a goat trail.  It is a narrow dirt packed trail that runs up then back down a rather steep hill.  The path is lined with blackberry brambles on one side and an ominous looking barbed wire fence on the other.  Despite these conditions this path is regularly used by Americans and Albanians alike. 

So I’m carefully making my way up and down this path in the 95+ degree heat dressed in my black suit and inappropriate walking shoes.  As I approach the crest of the hill I see a cow coming running straight towards me in an unavoidable collision course. Now some of you may or may not know that I spent my early childhood years living on a dairy farm with lots of cows.  Despite this, or maybe because of this, I have a deathly fear of all things cow.  As it approaches me, all I can focus on is the cow’s long horns.  An old man is fast on the cow’s heels but that doesn’t leave me feeling very reassured.  In a split second I decide that there isn’t room on the path for both of us and I decide that the lesser of the evils is my jumping into the blackberry brambles.  So I did it, suit, heels, and all. 

After the cow had gone charging past me I gracefully pulled myself out of the bushes and continued on my merry way with my heart racing.  I now have friends living in countries all around the world but I doubt any of them have encountered a cow on their way to their Embassies.  I can tell you that while JMAS prepared me for a lot of things, encountering a cow was not one of them.  Welcome to Albania!

P.S.  When I relayed this story to a friend at the Embassy she just laughed and told me that there was not one, but two cows living in our neighborhood.  Apparently they live on a property around the corner from our house and their owner takes them out twice a day.  I’m not sure where they go but they must cross through one of the Embassy housing security gates when they do.  I have not seen that yet and while I’m sure it is a sight to be seen, I’m not going to loiter around waiting for it to happen.

Parku i Madhe (The Big Park)

For a city its size, Tirana has a surprisingly large amount of green space.  I use the term "green" loosely since I have seen more dust and hard packed earth than grass here but regardless of what covers the surface, there are plenty of places to walk throughout the City.

The best maintained road in Tirana and its only for pedestrians.

Sidney and I have discovered the Parku i Madhe, a large park across the street from the Embassy and we have been spending our mornings exploring the area.  As far as I can tell, the park does not have a formal name and is simply known as the large park in both conversation and on the few maps that actually exist.  Like everything in Tirana, the park is eclectic with a mix of walking trails, shaded benches, cafes only accessible by foot, hotels, and even a church.  The park abuts several Tirana neighborhoods which provides easy access for residents throughout the City.  I've heard that the park also has a zoo and a botanical garden but we have yet to explore those areas.  

While the roads in this country are in a notorious state of disrepair, the main pathways of Big Park are well maintained.  I've heard that the pedestrian roads within the park were repaved within the past couple of years and based on their condition I believe it.  The pathways are cleaned daily by women dressed in green Mao-era uniforms who sweep the stamped concrete stones and pick up the ever present trash that litters the park.  Albanians seem to walk everywhere-- this may be due in part to the fact that until 20 years ago most Albanians did not have drivers licenses.  Regardless of the reasons, it is refreshing to see so many people of all ages out walking.  I'm sure this is a contributing factor for my seeing so few overweight people here.

On any given morning the paths are filled with people of all ages.  Baby carriages pushed by grandparents compete for space among young couples walking hand in hand, local military forces completing their daily PT regimes, the ever present stray dogs looking for handouts, recreational runners dressed in coordinated long sleeved jogging suits, and the occasional professional taking a short cut through to the office.   Each group moves at their own pace but they all seem to coexist in a much more respectful manner than they do on the traffic clogged city streets.

Public Art

Commonwealth Cemetery 

Elderly women sit on shaded benches while old men play checkers and other board games on the many tables and benches found along the paths. (Rarely do you see the old men and women together in groups.)  While the main paths are lined with benches, in the morning it is difficult to find one that isn't otherwise occupied.  Other sights in the park are equally as interesting and one never knows what they might see when looking into the woods surrounding the paths.  Large bronze sculptures are intermingled with abandoned shacks, Roma camps, Speedo clad sunbathers, and neatly manicured arbors.  Around every corner there seems to be yet another cafe filled with lounging 20-something-year-old men smoking hand rolled cigarettes and chatting on their cell phones.  In this park we've also discovered an Albanian-American Protestant Church, a stone amphitheater where each seat is made out of individual slabs of granite, and a Commonwealth Cemetery recognizing those soldiers who lost their lives in Albania during World War II.

Lake Tirana

The far edge of the park abuts Lake Tirana, also called the Artificial Lake since it is man made.  This, combined with the Lana Lumi speaks to Tirana's desire to have as much "waterfront" property as possible. The lake is circled by another pedestrian only path and even more cafes and restaurants (In Albania, cafes only serve coffee, juice, and maybe beer with an occasional sweet.  If you want a full meal you must go to a restaurant).  The rapidly expanding sprawl of Tirana has now exploded past what was once the rural far reaches of the shore.  There are even two bicycle rental booths along the lake that rent 1950s era bicycles by the hour. The area surrounding the lake isn't necessarily pretty in the conventional sense of the word, but it does have a certain Balkan charm to it.

Each morning as we set out Sidney and I create quite the spectacle on our walks.  With Sidney strapped into his Kelty backpack we get many stares and comments I have yet to be able to translate.  Who knew that what is a common sight in the rest of Europe would be such a novelty here?  Whether it is old men and women, young girls, or even a member of the  Rrugge Policia (traffic police), it seems as though we can't pass a group without someone cooing "baby, baby" while they point at Sidney.  Whereas in the United States most people would never dream of touching someone's child without permission, Albanians have no qualms about doing so.  At the rate we are going, Sidney is going to have a bald spot on his head from the number of people who have rushed over and rubbed his blond head.

Eclectic Tirana

 Glenn and Sidney in Skenderbeau Square, the  main  square in  Tirana

Tirana is wonderfully eclectic.  Every inch of the city seems to be under construction in one form or another.  From what we've been told some of the construction has been going on forever and we shouldn't expect to it be finished before we leave.  That sounds a lot like DC, doesn't it?

Zosia in front of the Lumi Lana.  An Albanian  friend said that DC has the Potomac and Tirana has the Lana.