Parks, Parks, Parks

Today I was visited at the Aarhus center by the head of urban planning at the municipality. He informed me that not only did the Mayor support my initiative to focus on greening but is putting me and Dori- a colleague- in charge of it.
What does this mean? This means, if I understood him correctly, that the mayor has approved 200,000 Euros for the rehabilitation of the parks in Vlore. For me, it means an opportunity to lead by example- come up with great designs, engage the public in useful and meaningful dialogue about what they want and show why parks are worth saving.

Permet

In all my trips throughout Albania- one sticks out the most in my mind. It was a trip to the south to a town called Lin on the way to Pogradec. It was the summer and it was so hot. My friend was visiting and we were approached my two boys. They asked if we wanted to see the museum. I knew thee was no museum- there couldn't be- but as my friend looked skeptically at me I said sure let's go. I'll finish the story later but I wanted to give a start for the pics. Feel free to comment and add your own story.

Beach, Beach, Beach

What can I say? I am blessed to live in the city that separates the Ionic from Adriatic seas. I believe the picture is worth more than my blubbering nonsense on the topic. I mean, who honestly wants to read about the beach? Why are you still reading?

Traversing through Orikum (*new post)

I went to Orikum today to explore its tourism potential with Kacey. We found out about a centuries old church and wanted to explore how to get there so that we can promote Orikum's (and, Orikum being in the state of Vlore, Vlore's) cultural and historical heritage and showcase its non-beach assets.

Though we didn't know exactly where it was, were roughly aware of the direction. We set off due west and asked on the way.

As the town faded we saw more shepherds and dogs. Donkeys were grazing and the path was peaceful. The dirt road was quiet as people farmed, stayed inside and generally kept to themselves. However, they were quite helpful when asked directions, clearly excited that someone, tourists non the less, were interested in venturing out.

We crossed a stream with rocks laid out for passing. The shrub grew taller and more scratchy. We spotted the church in the distance, standing alone, its simplistic, ceremonious white forms emerging from the green bush. Lacking a defined path from the stream to the church, I realized that my navy shorts were no match for the tall brush and decided to stop at the brush. While I stopped I decided to fix the path, getting my exercise the very old fashioned way: by moving stones.

Kacey was determined to forge on, and she did. Her strength and determination did not let the brush get her as she pushed all the way to the church. The insides, though slightly neglected were beautiful.


She deposited a bouquet she had brought in remembrance and enjoyed the quiet solitude.

Walking back we passed a few fisherman and discussed the church's promise. We brainstormed different restoration grants and possible sustainable projects that could highlight this unknown yet powerful gem. So immersed we were that I didn't notice the pack of 3 very hungry attack dogs on the path. Not stray dogs, these dogs were meant to attack. Fear seeping forth from me, both visibly and inside. Even Kacey, a dog lover to the end, was fearful. The dogs came closer and I literally feared for my life. The story of the women being eaten to death in San Fran by her horribly bigoted neighbors came to mind. As the approached within 3 feet I think I started shaking. Precisely at that moment their owner came, screamed at them, and hit them ferociously with a stick. He apologized to us, and we walked on.

Not having much personal dog experience (my mother is deathly allergic so it wasn't an option growing up) I asked Kacey if we had in fact been in true danger. She asked me if I could handle the truth, which I could. Yes, she said, yes we had been.

We made a note that in addition to building a path and marking the church we'd have to discuss the attack dogs as other persons might not be as lucky.

Day in The Life

Woke up, went to the post office on the way to work, the post office lady well acquainted with me know just shook her head no upon seeing me and headed to the Bashkia.

After observing Eliona for a while to see what needed to be done, chatted with Niko- the head of the Regional Environmental Agency and headed down the the Urban Planning office to work.

Rushed home from work to work out to a video for 40 minutes, showed and headed out for coffee, or in my case sparkling water, with a friend from the information center and then pizza with some girls I know from the Bashkia. That, good readers of my blog, is a day in the life. Not, I fear, much different from my life in New York (toiling in an office, working out, and then enjoying dinner and great conversation with girlfriends). Good? Bad? Dunno. Similar and comforting yes.

Korca

Wow. The Great Korca Beer Fest. Or should I say the Festa e Birres. It was fabulous but not without its scary parts. I left for Korca on Friday with Stephan- an Austrian social worker who was surfing my couch. 6 very sweaty, sticky, smelly hours later we arrived to a cool Korca which was shaking off the rain. As we wondered down to the festival site, we wondered to ourselves where were all the people. We arrived to find a small damp area with the benches resting peacefully on the wet tables, the few occupied booths a testimony to the fact that something will or did happen. Shaken we wondered what happened to the promise of tens of thousands of people of the website? This sad site could not be those people's host.

Thankfully, to our decided relief, we were wrong- it could, would and did host the people better that either one of us could imagine. The Festa e Birres was fantastic.
At about 8, after a coffee, securing lodging in the most unhygienic place I've ever physically entered, and a fortuitous bumping into of the other volunteers for pizza dinner, we headed down to the Festa e Birres. The music was flowing, the seats were occupied, and beer was tasty and people were dancing. This continued for the next 4 hours and only got better. Wandering the fest, which seemed quite large when filled with people, sounds and food, I came across the hokey pokey. Immensely impressed at the children's entertainment and the fest, I was also emotional. I couldn't remember the last time I played the hokey pokey or turned myself around, but I loved it. The site of the Albanian children doing the hokey pokey is seared into me forever.

As the music changed and the time wore on more people danced. Children danced. I danced. Slowly it became time to leave. Our rathole, where I saw a used contraceptive under the bed and black footprint on my sheet, was going to close at 12. So we left. I slept in my sleeping bag despite the heat and fell asleep to the quietness of our side street.

Summertime and the Beach (*new post)

I'm posting these pictures with the explicit intention of enticing you to come visit.
The beaches here are magnificent (though pebbly- it is Europe) and the water is amazing. Also, its cheap compared to Europe or Croatia. The food is amazing, and lastly, of course, you'd get to say "I went to Albania and had the best time".

As you know Vlore is on the coast. It is the city that splits the Adriatic and Ionian seas. The drive from Vlore to south to the southern most city of Sarande is spectacular and can easily put Route 1 to shame. Mountains on the left, blue glimmering water on the right. One passes through multiple vegetative zones and even a national park with evergreens. Natural spring water from the mountains comes oozing out of every rock.

There are cafes at which you can overlook the beaches from the side of the mountains

Water Pipes

My road is totally ripped up. Big, grinding saws, the type I hated in NYC, are now greeting me in the morning and night. All of this is very good. My neighborhood is getting new water pipes. Best of all, because of various reasons, the workers are literally working until 10pm at night to get it done. Fast. The project is going much faster than any project in NYC. For some reason, the road is not blocked off, another benefit. The all to familiar habit of construction workers of placing the orange cones so far down the road that one can't even see the work for miles, is non-existent here. People simple drive all the way up the street, see the enormous CAT, giant mount of dirt and must figure out how to turn around. Luckily, they are used to it.

Placing water pipes is the first step to bringing in clean water from the mountains for people to drink. Now, I only hope that the new buildings hook into it.

Remember when you thought counting to 30 really, really , really fast was only way to measure 30 seconds?

There are about 5 children in my building. Actually, that is totally incorrect. I honestly have no idea how many children there are in my building. I think a few live on the first floor and I know a few live next door. There are about 5 that regularly play in the stairwell and right now I can see about 11 playing hide and go seek and other games outside my window.

I love it. I love hearing children outside, I love seeing the games they make up, I love the way creative ways they find to circumvent boredom and the heat. Seeing the way the run around the small gravel area outside my building reminds me of what is was like growing up in the city. City kids don't have nicely trimmed soccer fields (or they certainly didn't when I grew up in NYC), lush lawns or cute cul-de-sacs to ride their bikes on. When they are pushed out side to play, by their parents or smallness of their apartments there is no tree to climb or perfectly assembled jungle gym. They have buildings, roads, gravel, dirt, stores, parked cars and a few neglected areas that a perfect for hide a go seek. It is in this dusty hard landscape that the children of my building area scream with joy and play for hours. It was on a similar landscape, albeit with a tiny bit of grass that I also learned to play outside and make up games with my siblings and neighbors.

I remember talking to a American-Indian girl 5 years ago when I was flying back from India. She was a graduate student studying policy or development and had been in India observing, writing and researching. She told me about the impression left on her from watching children in a third world country play. On and on she went about how happy she was to see children in her country playing with that they had- a stick, a deflated ball, their feet. It didn't really matter, they figured it out. They play with things American children easily scorn and take for granted. She recalled how poverty did not stop these children and how she would never see allow her children to have more then the simplest of toys (much easier said then done).

I also remember a conversation I had while teaching at a Grade 5-8 charter school in Newark. I was standing outside during recess, watching a bunch of well-developed adult looking 8th grader girls jumprope, debating whether I should join them. This girls, who knew absolutely everything- and I do mean everything- suddenly metamorphize into children, 12 year old chidren. As I stood there, one of the teachers said to me- don't you love watching children recreate? The question, so simple, was so insightful. Yes, I do. I love watching children recreate because watching children recreate tells so much about a culture and about the children.

Yes, my 8th grades, one of whom had a child at 12, turned into girls when they played. But equally important was the fact that the only object that turned them into girls was a simple jump rope. Just as the build landscape of buildings and gravel allow my neighborhood children in Albania to play and the deflated ball in India enabled those children to play. I've never been to Africa, but I'm guessing the children there play and with toys that cost less that $2.00

So, as I look at my window at the children who are still play hide-and-go seek, one hour after I have started writing I am reminded so clearly of why I left America. Fancy plastic toys, expensive bikes and video games don't really make childhood. Children get bored on their fancy plastic toys so fast. They master the video game and need another one. And, no mater what, as long as it has brakes and 2 wheels a bike is really just a bike. I have now watched these children, aged 7-12 play with literally nothing for longer that I have watched many American children play with their barbies, radio cars, and action figures.

Why is it that we continue to believe that children are deprived or neglected in they don't have buckets of toys? When will American's realize that all kids really need are a few other kids and some space to literally run around?

4 Months

Today marks 4 months that I've been here. I've been at my site (or as my Tirana counterpart says) post for 5 weeks.

Pictures from the Water

This morning I was graciously invited to a meeting of the social agencies of Vlora. The Italian government is helping the 3 larges municipalities develop regional social programs. I was hoping to speak a bit about sustainability- in terms of health and the environment, however the meeting mostly focused on women's issues. In the spirit of trying to be more participarity, people were asked to speak aafter the presentation of the social problems. To my surpirse, the moderator actually asked me to speak. I was pretty surprised, as I had just wanted to listen, but then did. One of the women graciously agreed to translate. I spoke about girls not going to school and how upset I was when I had arrived in the village to find out that my host sister wasn't allowed to pursue an education past 14 years of age. I also spoke about how, from my perception as an outside, I feel that the society places an unhealthy emphasis on thinness here really takes away from any value on intellectual
pursuits. I said that though I am from NY- an admittedly image obsessed city- and we
we do not value clothes and thinness to the extent it is valued here. I am frequently told that I am fat. In fact, it was the first thing my host mother told me after I t returned to Elbasan from my site visit.
I then hosted a meeting at the Aarhus Center to teach people about how to form Neighborhood Associations. It is my belief that it will be easier for the Bashkia to fulfill it obligations of reaching out to the public if groups were formed. I also think that if citizens formed neighborhood associations, then they as a group could focus on the few issues that are truly pressing for their community.
After work I went to the beach with my camera. That's right- after work, I walked down to the beach took a swim and then took some pictures.
It shows a bit of Vlore, and I particularly like that I was able to get pictures from the water. The shelf life is so shallow that I walked out pretty far before I with my camera.

Desk Update

Sitting at my desk, finally in Vlore.
I love it! LOVE IT!
I've uploaded a few (5) old posts. Please read.
Tomorrow, I'll upload another 5 (and pictures if I have time).
I'm heading out for a run before it gets to buggy, but as usual
feel free to post comments.

View from my new office and other juicy work details

Right now I am sitting at my desk (yes, as in MINE. Think terrible twos: mine, mine, mine, mine) in my (mine, mine, mine) new office in Vlore.
A few blog specific announcements before I move forward.
#1) I have filled in many missing entries. What does this mean? This also means that after this entry, I will fill in about 14 entries before going forward. So, be sure to scroll down to read all about the counterpart conference, Vlore and my last few weeks in Elbasan.
Why does this happen? Because I do not have internet every day I write my blog on word and then upload when I have internet. Sometimes I am so excited to tell the most recent news that I uploaded the last entry first and then go backwards uploaded previous days. This happened with the site placement entry. I uploaded it first but then ran out of time to upload the preceding days. So, if you go back through the blog you will see new entries that weren’t there before.
#2) I have tried to fill in pictures when I could. Pictures take a while to upload which is why I am so behind on pictures. I plan to upload them at work while I write my grant proposal, since word does not require much RAM.
#3) Please feel free to post comments or questions.

Now, on to the juicy details. My office has internet and a porch overlooking fruit trees and wine vines and an amazing counterpart (Peace Corps jargon for boss) who already has plenty of work for me. This is great because I, along with all other volunteers, have been told for the last 10 weeks that the summer is ridiculously slow in Albania and that I will not have work. I have been told that I will get invited to many, many coffees (Hjadje Pi Café= Come, Drink Coffee) and that other cohorts have even had competitions as to which volunteer has had the most Hjadje Pi Cafés in a day (11. True Story). Within that frame work we have been given sessions titled "How to stay busy in the summer" and "how to create work". We have already gone over the first 3 major areas that need work at Aarhus, incredibly without having coffee. They are sewage, land fills, and a grant proposal that I have to write.

Project Day!

As they say in Hebrew, Sof Sof. Finally, the day I’ve been waiting for.
Our Earth Day event started at 1pm. To get ready, we met at the school at 10:30. Kristine and I set up our table, I straightened my poster and put of some flip charts to write the answers the students gave down. We couldn’t find the school director but that we had the school key so it was ok.

After our table was set up with the glue, scissors, markers we spread out our model college. We then took the refridgartor box (sweet find) and cut it up for each of our 3 sessions. Finally, we were ready to go. We had a much needed coffee break and headed back.

The kids kept milling on in. While there were a few in the morning by 12:20 there was a mass. That is what happens when there is literally nothing to do in your town. We considered starting early, but the school director had yet to arrive so we held off.

Kacey introduces the project as she is managing it. Unfortunately, the composting station turned out to be a no go. In the end the stations ended up being a glass bottle candle making station, a trivia show and the River pollution. In plan, the kids were supposed to have 40 minutes at each startion and then voluntarily switch. However, as kids are kids, there is very little incentive for them to voluntarily change if there is no consequence for not changing.

Kristine and my station went really well. We had her English speaking cousins translate. To start, I elicited answers to questions about river pollution, such as what the pollution? Where does the garbage do they die go? For the garbage that remains on the side, where does the die go? How long does the plastic stay in the river? Kids answered on scraps. I then taped the answers on the flip charts and read them aloud. Next we spoke about the consequences of littering in the river (killing animals, polluting seas, and contaminating drinking sources). To wrap up, we spoke about other places to put garbage instead of the river.

After the teacher directly learning ended, we headed over to the collage area. I instructed kids to take a piece of garbage, ask Kristine or I for glue, and then to step on it for 1 minute. This went very well, except that the some kids forgot to ask for glue so their garbage didn’t quite stick. During the stepping and gluing I did a summative assessment with the help of Ornela, our language teacher. I asked the kids what happens to the garbage they throw in the river, and why they shouldn’t throw it there. Not that Kristine and I are so fabulous (well, we are), but I was really impressed with how much they seemed to retain.
We then changed stations. I noticed a few kids stayed at our station all 3 times, making them experts at river pollution. I think they really enjoyed the gluing and stepping.

Regrettably because of the way we structured the day, I was unable to visit anyone else’s station while it was going on. However, I think the kids really enjoyed it.
Thankfully, Rina was able to get permission to come and photographed part of the event. She got a little bored, as most of the participants were younger, and wandered off with my camera to do a photo shoot with the other teenage girls.
I finally found here and was able to snap a few shots at the last session.
After the sessions, the kids were gathered again for a thank you. We posed next to the various signs, helped our many generous translators and then cleaned up. A bunch of kids were loitering so I asked if anyone wanted to help clean. They all wanted to and clean up went exceptionally fast.

It’s kind of amazing that it took us 30 days to organize a 2 ½ hour project. But if ½ of the participants learned anything it was well worth the effort.

Back and Forth to Blat

Today I think all I did was walk back and forth between Shales and Blat. In fact, Kristine and I walked back and forth so many times that her host sister thought we were doing it on purpose for exercise. We weren’t . Circumstances lead to us trudging the road way too many times for comfort and left us completely exhausted by the end of the day.

Part of the reason we had to keep trekking the 1 mile between Blat, where I live, and Shales, the village where I catch the furgon and go to school, is that Kristine lives in Shales but Albi (the puppy) lives in Blat. He got evicted from Shales really fast. The other is that we run, which means we have to leave from either Shales or Blat. If we leave from Shales, I then have to go to Shales, get my stuff and then walk back to Blat. If we leave from Blat, Kristin has to walk to Shales. Today, we ran from Blat since Katie, or more applicably Albi’s house is on the way to my house and we can’t run with him (he’s a bit pudgy and not so into running right now). We ran from Blat but came back to my house to get the garbage for our project, then Katie’s to get Albi and then walked back to Shales. On the way back, sweaty and puppy in hand, we picked up as much flat gluable garbage as we could find. My box full from the LAS just didn’t have enough.

We took the garbage to Kristines, made a few posters and then went back to Blat to drop Albi off. During one of the multiple stops at my house, Rina had asked Kristine if she liked Marcarona (pasta). Kristine said yes and before we knew Rina was making pasta for dinner and Kristine was invited to join. So, we trudged back, again, to drop off Albi and eat. It was getting a bit ridiculous.

My River Pollution poster got fondled by everyone on the way, so it is not going to look to fresh tomorrow. However, most people seemed to like it, so I guess better ratty and good than fresh and sucky.

USAID and visions of progress

Because this was the first week of Practicum, we only had technical training on Friday this week. Fortunately, technical training was so interesting on Friday that it was worth two days. Also, we have another full week of practicum next week.
To kick of the day, a representative of USAID came to speak to us. He was actually a contractor who was working for a company hired by USAID to develop business centers and help to streamline the business registration process in Albania. Currently, USAID is working with 10 cities in Albania. To monitor its progress, it uses 10 other cities as control cities. As of now in most municipalities a business owner must register with about 15 different offices to get his business registered. There is little logic as to who an owner must register with, where those office are and even less information about what the process is. Given this opaque and incoherent process it is not surprising that many people don’t bother to register their business or pay taxes. It is very unclear what the penalty is for not paying taxes. As far as I can tell, there really is none but I could be wrong. The benefit to paying taxes seems to be that you could get your garbage collected and be a vendor for the government. However, small businesses wouldn’t be vendors anyway so there is really no incentive for them. To help streamline the business process USAID is establishing information centers for people to go to in order to ask how to register their business. USAID is also helping municipalities distill the registration process to 2-3 windows or steps.

In addition to the business center project, the USAID representative spoke of the many different steps Albania needs to take to get accepted to the EU. Many relate to sustainability and urban planning, which the country currently lacks. However, the federal government just started requiring each region to develop a regional plan so it looks like I’ve arrived at the right time. I asked him a few questions regarding sustainability, insulations and energy efficiency. He seemed to think people didn’t use insulation because they didn’t have to pay their electricity and/or didn’t see a clear correlation between paying increased electric bills and lacking insulation. (This inability to see this correlation is not confined to Albania, embarrassingly most American’s fail to see the importance of renovating or fixing their homes to be energy efficient).

The Albanian logic behind not investing in energy efficiency sort of makes sense since electric use isn’t really that high here. Every family that I’ve seen sits in one room from the time they get home to the time each member goes to sleep. In the winter they gather around the heater, in the spring and summer it’s the tv. So, unlike America where there is a light on in every room, here there isn’t one on in every room here (nor is there any privacy). However, I keep wondering if it’s a chicken and egg problem. Everyone sits in the same room because it’s the only room with an oven or heater of some sort. In the bitter cold winter, why would you separate yourself if you would literally freeze to death? So, even though now that there are other options besides having one room heated, such as having a heater in each room or insulation, those alternatives seem like an unnecessary investment because everyone sits in the same room anyway.

After the lecture I spoke to him about energy efficiency initiative and regional plans. He told me to get in touch with him through email, as he knew the head of the energy efficiency council in Tirana. I’m so excited to get involved and the summer is a great time to start making connections as my job will be pretty slow (Albanians, like most Europeans, take August off). My COD director, Diana, overhead the conversation and told me she’d help me get involved. She promised to connect me to the regional planning offices and proper point people. Amazing!

Garbage Poster

Blogging is hard. Since I am in a small village with no internet there is really nothing to talk about except other people. For real. It’s a bit hard to discuss books in depth if everyone is reading a different one. There are no newspapers in sight, in Shqip or English and I can’t understand the tv news. I now know why the rural radio is so efficient. Why not gossip?

As I listen to the dogs bark outside and know I’m going to wake up to one very annoying Roster at 6, I can’t help but to think that I am so disconnected from the outside world. I would kill for a NYTimes or Wall Street Journal. Hey, I’m not picky. At this point I’d settle for a NY Post or Daily News. I’m started to miss the headlines reading “Hizzoner”. I hope I can find the time to spend a few hours on the internet tomorrow reading current events.

Given that situation, compounded with the fact that we didn’t go to Elbasan for technical sessions this Tuesday, I am really enticed to devote this blog entry to my site mates. However, I’m going to resist and find other material.
For starters, Rina is really getting into working out. Now that we’ve crossed that bridge- I truly believe she’ll keep it up while I’m gone.

Second, our Community Development Project (CDP) is rapidly approaching. Today is Thursday and our village earth day is on Sunday. This is the project we in Shales have been working on for the past 4 weeks. At this point we will have 3 separate stations run by each of us. One booth will double up and one person will be overseeing the event, jumping in to help whosever needed help at s/her station.
Kristine and I are doing a station on river pollution. We cannot teach the community not to through their trash on their landscapes because there is literally no alternative but we can teach something important: Don’ t throw trash in the river. Granted, pollution is way more complicated than that, but for a town which cannot afford dumpsters or garbage collections because so few people pay taxes, teaching people to through garbage in the trash receptacle is nonsensical- there simply isn’t one. Telling people to get a job- when there are no jobs- so that they have money to pay taxes so the Kommuna has money for sanitation collection and dumpsters is simply not going to happen. We are guests in this community and must remember that. So, we thought we’d teach something doable: Educating students on the perils of through trash directly in the river.

We believe a session on River Pollution will be very productive because there is a belief here among some people that the river belongs to the state and therefore one should throw garbage in it. On a personal not, my interest in water pollution has increased greatly since I found out I’ll be working for an Environmental organization at the beach. In fact, I learned that about 80% of all pollution on the beach originated from water ways not litter bugs at the beach. Additionally, many children here and in America simply have no idea that when you pollute the river you pollute your drinking source.

This morning Kristine and I outlined our lesson completely. We will be teaching about the decomposition rates of plastic, the htazards of river pollution and what happens to the materials when they are thrown in the river (where does the die go?). After asking questions to the kids, we will all make a collage with the partially decomposed objects we found near the river to visualize what we are drinking.

Running in the Mud

Rina is now officially on the road to fitness. Not only did she work out for an hour yesterday without me, but today she worked out for ½ without me and then went for a run with me and Kristin. She has gone from being a tyro to asking daily if we could do gymnastics together to her working out by herself.

After language I tried to go running with Kristine but it was still sprinkling and really muddy out so I figured I’d go home early and workout with Rina. Normally, rain does not deter me from my normal activity but as it is I am a novice at running and running is excruciatingly hard here. The only road here is the National Road which cannot fit two cars on it width wise 80% of the time without one having to go off the road into the shoulder. That wouldn’t matter if there were a shoulder - but there is not. In reality, the shoulder is the mud that people walk on to go to the store, furgon, school, walk their wheelbarrows down and guide their donkeys, cows or sheep along. Even the ubiquitous chicken crosses the road. So, when a car passes you, the driver honks. Pretty much a driver will do this no matter what unless he (it is almost always a he) physically sees you move out of the way in advance. This can be a bit jarring at first, but it is really meant to protect pedestrians and warn those walking on the National Road that a car is coming.

So, being as it had rained all day, this shoulder was filled with mud. I was worried it would be slippery. I really don’t want to get hurt running. It would suck to get hurt here because it would be hard to get the proper medical attention quickly. Ambulances are still somewhat of an anomaly here. In the words of our PCMO if you’re in a car accident here you’ll probably be thrown in the back of a Mercedes and taken to the nearest hospital. Also, if I’m going to get hurt it should happen during a sport I have always loved playing like tennis, softball or hockey. Not running. Who gets hurt doing an activity she doesn’t particularly like and didn’t want to do anyway? Exactly. Plus, any car passing me and Kristine would most probably splash us with manure filled mud. There are so many pot holes here that even when there is only one car on the road it has to go into the shoulder to avoid getting a flat. With that in mind, Kristine thought she’d find Albi who had been left with Katie and walk home with me to bring Albi home.

By the time we found the Katie and the puppy the rain had stopped. We figured we should try to run, despite all the aforementioned objections because at the end of the day running provides the exercise and outlet that really nothing else can match.
We ran on the road to Blat (my very small village) not the National Road. It intersects the National Road at the Don Café. This is the road from that connects Blat to the village. It is not paved at any point which is good for running. It is just mud and rocks. It happens to be challenging with a steep hill on either side and provide exceptionally beautiful vistas. So, we ran it, clocked, played a bit of football in between and then went to my house. The idea was to grab some water and run back so we could clock the mileage from my house to the village. It was about 1 mile.

We got to my house and found my host mother and Gjusha outside filling up the water barrels. Thirsty from running, I asked if I could drink the water and was handed a bottle. As I drank form the bottle, I looked in the barrel and saw a roach. Now, this roach truly and utterly looked like the fake ones you get at Ricky’s or any Halloween store, but it wasn’t. I pointed the road out to Gjusha who laughed and the grabbed it. She jokingly tried to put it on me or Kristin and we squealed and ran away. Then she tried to run with us. She only made it down the walkway, but I gave her credit for trying since she was wearing house slippers and a skirt.

Rina finally appeared and told us that she had done ½ of gymnastics today. I was so happy. We asked her if she wanted to run and she agreed. But she refused to run to the village. When we asked her where we were going to run and she pointed to a place far, far away where we had never been. We were going deep into Blat. Thought we really wanted to start running we agreed because we were so excited that she was going to run with us. She took us behind the house, through the yard, through someone else’s yard, until we hit a dirt road. We kept going until that road merged with the main road, and then went off on another dirt road. As the houses started to thin we asked if we could start running, no we were told. Finally, there was a huge hill on our left and fields on our right. No houses were in sight. Now can we run we asked? No. There are people grazing their animals on the hill and they will watch. We kept walking until the animal’s companions could not see us. Then we ran for about 6 minutes.

Ostensibly we had to stop because the road literally turned to water, but I think we could have pushed on. I had the minority opinion. We turned back, and Rina pointed to the pretty steep hill. Let’s climb it she said. OK I agreed. Kristine did not look thrilled. Rina lead the way. As we struggled to keep up, she turned to Kristine who was in back and said “I’m not tired. I’m fast because I do gymnastics with Molly

Raki Finally

The down side of giving Rina computer lessons is that I have far less time to blog. I’m hoping that with my project finishing soon and the days getting longer I’ll have enough time for both in the very near future. So, though I’m behind on blogging and work Rina’s familiarity and comfort level with the computer has skyrocketed, which couldn’t make me happier. Additionally, today she told me that her brother who is currently in Italy has a car and will drive her to Vlore when he comes home! How great is that? I’m really happy she wants to visit.

This morning I had Practicum- which basically means that we decide which of the businesses, markets, ngos and/or offices we should visit to gain a deeper understanding of the workings of the village or city. Since my village is really small we don’t have NGOs or many businesses. Hence, the practicum is a bit of a challenge. Today, we spend the day interviewing the café owners and our new friend the vet.

Before practicum I taught Rina how to make an egg white omelet. My house mother had slept in Kavaje so it was still just Rina and I this morning. We were able to sleep late (7:30) and then cook ourselves. Or rather, I was able to cook (now, a treat). Rina watched me the entire time so she could learn. Then she cooked laquer, the meal she messed up last night. It was, as promised, delicious today.

Because we had practicum this morning, I was able to run home for lunch and had it while it was hot. While I was eating, I told her that she had to teach me how to cook it because a) it is soo good and b)I only know how to cook American foods which won’t help me if the ingredient are not readily available here (like salmon, tofu or broccoli). She said ok, but only if you teach me how to cook American food. I said of course. Tomorrow, I will make her an omelet.

Rina has been really motivated to work out with me and I think that she is starting to really enjoy working out. When I got home tonight she told me she had worked out for 1 hour by herself, very impressive. When I came here she thought I was crazy for working out at all. I would have to beg her to try it. Now, she is working out by herself and trying to eat healthily. I knew she enjoyed the exercise ball I brought (It’s basically hers by now), but I didn’t realize how much she works out without me.

While Rina was on my laptop practicing typing I built hand weights with rocks, duct tape and small water bottles. I really hope it works. I need to start lifting to truly be Fit to Strip. I also ordered some resistance bands and a Pilates mat on the internet (People: I am going to be living by the beach for the next 2 years. I’m arriving in the summer. I really like eating, especially when new foods are involved. Wouldn’t you be working out if you were me?)

When I was outside attempting to photograph the sunset, which I should know by now is almost always fruitless, my HM grabbed me, took me out back and showed me what she had done today: planted grape vines. I was really impressed with them and told her so. She insisted that I take a picture of them, so I took too. They are absolutely beautiful but the pictures spectacularly fail to do the trees justice.
During dinner, I was speaking with Rina and told her that though I had been in Albania for over 1 month because there are only women in the house I had not yet had Raki. Raki, the 22-proof homemade grain alcohol known by some as fire water, is offered to men regularly if not daily. Men will also frequently start off their day with a coffee and shot of Raki in the café. Though I’ve been in Albania for only 5 weeks, I already had the misfortunate of sitting next to more than one man who reeked of Raki on the furgon. Rina asked if I wanted Raki right then and there. I refused it, explaining that I just meant in the general scheme of things I’d like to try it. I assumed it would be a huge hassle to obtain it as I had yet to see it in the house and did not want to inconvenience them. She insisted. She told me that Gjusha makes and has it. Of course. I should have known. By then, the Raki, housed in a coke bottle, was already on the table and I was being poured a dainty glass of it. There not kidding when they call it fire water, but it’s worth it. I drank it all.

Homeless Albi

Today I finally had a bad meal. This actually an accomplishment when you live in a country in which you love the food and a house with superior cooks. However, tonight Rina didn’t put enough water in the Laker (laquer) so there was flour beneath the top later. By flour I mean the powder that you buy in the store. The problem was that the top was a deceivingly delicious looking crusty layer- neatly concealing the power directly beneath it. But that was just one problem. The salad, which I had made, was bad as well. Because the lighting was bad where I made the salad I had put in plenty of bad or more accurately rotting pieces of lettuce.

That meal was just one of the many anomalies of the day. I went running outside which I never do and am starting to really enjoy. There are many obstacles to it. Some of my own making, such as losing a sneaker in Elbasan, a deep seeded hatred of running outside, an inability to pace myself and a self fulfilling prophecy that I am bad at running outside (I mean, what is so difficult about putting your feet in front of each other a bit faster? C’mon!). Then there are the inherent problems with running outside such as you don’t know how long you have run, you don’t have TVs like in the gym, you don’t have the super motivating calorie counter as in YES! I ran off that chocolate croissant only 280 calories until the cappuccino is gone... there goes the gelato! And, lastly, you might run so far and get so tired you can’t get back (ok- that kind of out there). Then there are the specific obstacles to running in a small village in Albania- the muddy roads filled with rocks, stray dogs, chickens, mud puddles, stares and people who try to converse with you while you run (How are you? Where are you going? And my favorite: What are you doing?). Despite all this, I have developed an affinity for running. It really is a great stress reliever and, in case you haven’t guessed, Equinox Fitness with its multiple HDTV doesn’t exactly exist here.

So, today after I ran with Kristine, I did plates with Kacey to stretch out. Then I did Fit to Strip with Rina who had generously bought me a marshmallow chocolate after the pesach craving.

The rest of the day was an anomaly in and of itself. During class Kristine was informed that she could not keep Albi at her house. In fact, her HM had hit him pretty hard while Kristine was outside and then called our home stay coordinator to kick him out. 4 month old Albi could no longer sleep outside near the sheep guts, chicken or donkey. Kristine was pretty upset as were others as it’s hard for most Americans to hatte a puppy. So, we spent the rest of the day trying to find Albi a home. To do this, we had to get him vaccinated first. Our langague teacher acopmained us to ease the language barrier. After Kacey’s family refused him, we had 2 options left: Katie and my house. Katie’s house was a better bet as they have a few pigs, a cow and 4 children. My house only has chickens and a garden. We all went to Katie’s house carrying the cardboard boxes that would become Albi’s home and Albi. Her HM was not home but her Gjusha was and after a few minutes she agreed that the puppy could sleep outside. Excellent! Albi has a hosue.

After his house got settled in under the porch, Kristine took him to meet my family. My HM wasn’t home because she had gone home to Kavaje to celebrate the engagement of her 22 year old brother to a 17 year old girl. I found Gjusha and Rina hanging out outside. They loved Albi! Couldn’t get enough. Gjusha even invited him to live inside the house. She showed Kristine her dog (which I had completely forgotten she had) and kept playing with him. At first, I didn’t think I was hearing Gjusha correctly, so I asked again “Inside? Are you sure?” and she said yes. Then I realized what was happening. Gjusha, I said, what would mammie think if she came home and there was a dog living inside her house. At this point, Rina and Gjusha started rolling on the floor laughing. Gjusha is a joker!

Because my HM was in Kavaje Rina cooked dinner instead of my host mother. After wandering around with Albi, running and working out, it was a pretty nice to have a mellow night. Dinner was Gjusha, Rina and me. Gjusha didn’t seem to mind the flour laker and ate most of it. In fact, I should say she ate all of it. Rina and I wanted nothing to do with the raw flour, though I did attempt to eat the rotting lettuce. I was promised by Rina that she would make the Laker again tomorrow and do a good job. I’m excited. It is full of spinach, onions and corn meal. When made correctly it will be delicious.

Dog Found

This morning Rina didn’t feel well so I went to Elbasan by myself. In the spirit of exercise and to combat growing restlessness from living in Shales, Kristin and I started our trek with a walk to Cerrik, a decent sized town on the way to Elbasan, and then take a furgon from there. We weren’t sure how long the walk would take but assumed that it’d be as long as Belesh.

We were wrong- it was only 2 miles away and we burned a fraction of the calories however it was well worth it. We caught a furgon easily and headed off to the Trego or market. For some reason as we approached the city’s heart we got stuck in terrible traffic. Still on the outskirts we hopped off to explore the modern looking “EurChic” supermarket which I had been eyeing but never ventured far enough out to enter. We were pretty happy to discover it had a decent stock of food at a reasonable price when compared to other supermarkets; however for us the cost of 4 cans of tuna were equivalent to our daily food allowance and since our food allowance is our only allowance the tuna was not an option.

Finally we made it to the Trego an experience in its self. We must have been wearing fairly large signs that said “I’m American” because we were tugged and pulled at in various languages in each and every direction. For some reason, many Albanians believe that foreigners speak Italian so they will try Shqip, English and Albania until you respond. As a New Yorker, my natural instinct is to avoid eye contact, not reveal my identity and put my guard up. However, in all honesty, they are so few foreigners (particularly in Elbasan) in this country that was closed to the world for so long, that the clerks are honestly just plain curious. I have to keep remembering that.

At the market there was some confusion over the prices, and by that I do not mean my bad Shqip for once. First of all, there is always some confusion over prices here because many people still quote you in old Leke with the understanding you will automatically drop the last 0 mentally. If a clerk writes you a receipt s/he will probably tally up the prices in old Leke and then physically cross off the last 0. However, in newer stores, like the EurChic, boutiques and many places in Tirana prices are written in new Leke. Also, people speak in new Leke. So, when asking what the price of a good is you have to assume it is in old Leke if its super high, like 1800 for soap, or ask if it is old or new Leke.

At the Trego the whole Leke issue posed various problems. We struggled to find shirts without meretricious sequins, pockets or mottos such as “Don’t take it personality your such” emblazoned on them [not a typo]. Finally we a found a stand with some great jackets and simple button down shirts. We were quoted prices such as 18 and 34 for the items leading us to believe that they cost 18 or 34 Leke- the equivalent of .18 or .34 cents. Though logically it could not cost that little to produce clothes, transport them and pay overhead, we were believed it was the price because that was the price we were given and the Trego is a semi-outdoor market. Only when we tried to pay were we told it was 18 hundred and 34 hundred. Much more logical. There you are not quoted old or new Leke but simply a number and you are to guess the denomination. For example, I asked how much a barrette was and was informed that it was 5. When I handed her 5 Leke, she told me it was 50. I’m not a good guesser yet.

Kristine pared down her multiple choices to a few that fit within the newly revealed prices and bought a few much needed shirts. Unlike me, she had kept to the very strict PC and airline guidelines and only brought enough clothes for a few weeks. She’s not the only one. In fact, most people have found themselves in dire need of more clothing forcing mothers all over America to raid their PC children’s storage areas and figure out ways of sending clothes and other essentials to Albania. Finding clothes one likes is hard enough in America, but is especially hard to do when you must travel to the market which is only open from 7-3, lacks fitting rooms and caters to a younger clientele. Stores are simply unaffordable for our indigent lifestyle. Supplementing the inherent problems of shopping in Albania on a limited budget is the added PST problem that we are overscheduled during the day and must return home by dinner making the only day that shopping is even an option Sunday. Keenly anticipating this problem (shopping in a developing country) and wary both of what might be sent and the oversees mail situation in general I had brought enough clothing to dress the entire village, going way over the weight limit for Lutshansia. In retrospect, it could possibly be the best $300 every spent.
The Trego was an experience, but the biggest event of the day came after it at about 5pm when Kristine and I spied a lost puppy outside hotel universe. It was beautiful and Kristine became determined to keep him. She instantly fell involve with him, grabbed him and carried him to the furgon. I hope she is able to keep him.

Culture Day

Today was culture day. This meant awkwardness all around. As opposed to other years when Culture Day was hosted in the hub, Elbasan, this year culture day was held in the satellite sites (the six village) which was a great idea. We were responsible for representing American Culture- meaning food- to the event site while our host families were in control of bringing all things Albanian- food, handicrafts and music- as well as themselves.

In preparation for culture day last night I had a lengthy discussion with my family about what they were going to cook. During this conversation I was shocked to discover that Rina, my host sister, had no intention of coming. I was under the impression that it was mandatory not just for trainees, but for everyone, particularly every member of host families which are only composed of 2 people. I fundamentally couldn’t understand why she wasn’t coming. Compound that disclosure with the revelation from my host mother (HM) that she would be late because she was going to Belesh to sell her eggs in the morning the market and I was pretty upset.
To say I threw a fit would be an overstatement but I was visibly disappointed. I couldn’t believe Rina wouldn’t come. I begged her to come. But she refused. She told me that she couldn’t come because she if she did the house would be unattended. Yes- you read correctly. There was a fear of leaving the house all alone. I anticipated that maybe she didn’t want to come because she is a teenager and thought the event was dumb. As a teenage I thought most things my parents wanted me to go to were dumb and now, having taught teenagers, expect that most teenagers think that most things I recommend are dumb. That is totally understandable. However, leaving the house all along wasn’t an anticipated rational. I explained to Rina and her mother that that is why house keys were invented. She could leave the house all alone for a few hours and lock it. I promised her nothing would happen to the house and that people routinely do this. I was certain that it was ok partially because crime is ridiculously low here and because she literally knows all of her neighbors. Finally she agreed to lock the door today and come. I jumped up with joy.

At about 9 pm last night, after it was decided that she could come, Rina came into my room wearing fishnet stockings, black shorts, bright red high heels and a black tank top. She looked great in the outfit- really- but I didn’t understand why she was wearing it. Before I had a change to ask, she explained that she was going to wear it for culture day. Well, she is a teenager after all. I keep forgetting that as she cooks and cleans the house all day.

Rina then asked what I was going to wear. I had been so busy buying the food for the sweet salad, mashed potatoes and apple pie that I hadn’t given my outfit much thought. Caught off guard, I told Rina that I would love for her to pick out an outfit for me. She tried to sort out my clothes for a few minutes, but decided that she just couldn’t figure out an outfit from them.

Today, I woke up and put on something somewhat photogenic. It was cold in the morning so Rina swapped the stockings, red high heels and shorts for jeans and black boots. We left at about 9:30 and walked really slowly down the road because of the boots. I, of course, was being tortured. As a New York I just cannot stand to walk slowly. I’ve been routinely told by other Americans that I walk scarily fast. I don’t know what my problem is, but once I start walking, I just go- and go fast.
We finally arrived, but not before receiving a call from the assistant of home stays asking where we were. As we walked in we realized that we were the only people there. The Americans were setting up the food, but not a single host family was there. Rina and I kind of stood around and looked at the empty tables.

The host families finally started to filter in with food, handicrafts, music, keyboards and energy. As Katie’s family filed in I noticed a few missing persons. I asked her about it and was told her host sister didn’t come because she had to stay home to take care of the house. Apparently, that is a very popular activity here.
We turned to dancing after the cross cultural eating-which was phenomenal- ended. The Albanians turned on the keyboards and started circle dancing. The Americans joined in and we all formed a circle that moved around the restaurant in a somewhat choreographed way. Ornela started napkin dancing and got the Americans all worked up. To napkin dance one takes a napkin daintily between the index and thumb of both hands and sort of moves it around while dancing. We tried to napkin dance but didn’t look anywhere as elegant as the Albanian women.

When things died down we all headed off to start our days. Kristine and I had to make a prototype of our collage we took our supplies for Kacey’s terrace and head over to Kristine’s house. We started to lay out our cardboard on her driveway we were instructed to move our collage out of sight from passersbyers, which is odd since she lives on a dead end. However, because her family was very concerned about people seeing us working on garbage in front of her house so we moved our project out of sight.

Behind us, her host parents were very busy bashing in the head of a sheep they planned to eat for dinner. I’m not exactly sure how they were eviscerating it because I refused to turn and look. When Kristine and I finally stopped to get more supplies, we were instructed by her host parents to move our recycling college to the garage. I was instructed by Kristin to turn my back a specific way to avoid the blood, guts and bashed in head, so I tried to look straight down and force different images through my mind.

Kristine’s host mother found my queasiness hysterical. She kept asking me questions about it or more accurately, teasing me about it. Most Albanians are very upset or at least find it very odd that I don’t eat meat. I’m consistently reminded that I am risking my health by not eating red meat on a regular basis. My hand visor was imitated as was my facial expression. While I enjoyed her company, I was getting really nauseas standing next to the sheep guts, so really couldn’t engage in a lengthy dietary discussion in Shqip right then.

To get the image out of our minds, buy necessary supplies and get a change of scenery, Kristine and I walked to Belesh. We were on a mission to find a staple gun. Belesh is about 3.6 miles away, but we stopped in some caves on the way, climbed up a hill and ended up doubling the trek, turning it into a 7.1 mile journey.
We arrived in Belesh and after going in maybe 6 stores, we finally found a staple gun amoung the lopsided piles and stacks of phones, nails and screwdrivers in a hardware store. It was $100 so it was completely out of the question but we were pretty proud we havd found it.

To reward ourselves for the hard work we indulged in gelato and then headed back on a furgon. I got home and did gymnastics with Rina. Tomorrow I am going to take her to Elbasan to go shopping. To arrange this required a herculean effort as my host mother doesn’t really like Rina leaving the house. Her resistance made me feel like a sybarite for simply agreeing to chaperon the shopping mission, but Rina persevered and was eventually granted permission. In turn, I had to agree to stay with Rina at all times, not allowing her to be alone at all- a reasonable request considering she is a teenage girl.

My Placementt... Drumroll....

I found out where I will be working and living for the next 2 years. Don’t you want to know….

The city is called Vlore. It is the 2nd biggest port (read: beach) in Albania. It has a population of 112,000 and is in the southern (read: warmer) part of the country. You kinda can’t beat that. The best part is that I’ll be both working to help establish a new branch of an recognized environmental NGO that helps citizens in the developing world get involved in decisions regarding their environment and connected to Bashkia (municipality) working on the mandated mapping. I also heard that one can buy tofu in Vlore for pretty cheap- is this the dream or what? The organization I’ll be working for is called Aarhus, named after the city in Denmark where the Aarhus Convention was signed (http://www.unece.org/env/pp/). I strongly recommend you look it up.

Of course, since I’m living on the beach, I mean port city, I expect to have tons of visitors so book your flight now! Remember, I’m allowed to have visitors after the first three months, so come after September 1st. Remember, if you're coming from America, feel free to bring any of the below. In fact, in that case, being as I currently make so little that I am not legally required to file a tax return, feel free to send any of the below so it gets her in time for my birthday (May 24th).
Workout cds, yoga mat, resistance bands, magazines, packages (not cans) of tuna (the kind without the water), brown sugar, brown flour (oddly enough the later two are completely unavailable here), spicy or dejon mustard or mustard seeds, ketchup, pie crust, foot warmers (the kind you put in ski boots), sharpies or any other permanent marker, oatmeal for cooking, chocolate chips, nail files, dental floss, an old working but worthless laptop for my host sister to practice/learn typing on.
Other exciting news today includes Rina’s (my host sister) birthday. She officially turned 17 today. We celebrated with a cake and some friends came over. That’s about it. It was actually a bit sad. I thought there would be more of a party, but Rina was already cooking by the time I got home and put her candles in her own cake she had bought herself. I would have done it had I known they had candles. I did sing to her which was probably more punishment than reward. I also need to buy her a present, so if you have any suggestions for a 17 year old post them, please.
We met with a few Ngo/ International Aid Agency representatives, including a rep from World Vision, UNDP , Women’s Center, and SNV. SNV is the Swedish equivalent to USAID and had developed a pretty extensive and through tourism action plan for Albania. IT is in the 2nd year of working on the plan and I think it will truly help Albania’s economy, as it is such a beautiful country with so many assets.

The rest of the day was as good as it could have been given the circumstances (we were pretty a anxious to find out where and who we were going to live with for the next 2 years). As we got closer and closer to 4pm no one wanted to talk. We all held our breaths and prayed for the best. We were handed our envelopes and ripped them open, turned to the person next to us to ask which town we never heard of they were going to, walked to the map and stuck a picture of ourselves on our town. It was quite the scene.

Got back to town, and met some village boys on the road. They started talking to me, so I figured I should talk to them. Somehow, after we exchanged names and realized we couldn’t really have a conversation else (there were about 7 of them and one of me) we ended up racing up the second hill. Now, at the end of the second hill, near the pseudo cement factory (is it a factory or not?) at the corner of the long road and my road there is a pretty vicious loud dog. He was in full force and the kids asked me about it. I told them I don’t like dogs which they understood. I already like them more than American boys. They continued down to long road, but pointed down my street to a stray and yelled for me to watch out. We parted ways and but I was prepared for the stray and thanked the boys for their help.

Bread... Finally!

I finally get to eat bread. To you this might not mean anything, or rather it might be plain confusing, but to me it is really important. It wasn’t the first few days. Actually, it was quite a relief to have a break from bread. Yes- the bread is amazing and homemade and super fresh, but I still don’t like eating 8 huge dense slices a day. However, by the 7th day of Passover, I was craving 8 slices a day, and now I’m really excited to eat bread tomorrow morning. To celebrate that I can eat bread, my family made me a huge burek. It was so nice of them, and of course, delicious.

The rest of the day was just a productive. Diamante had come to help us and she was truly invaluable. Within 1 minute of suggesting that we talk to the mayor she had whipped out one of her three phones, found him and made a meeting for 10 minutes later. 10 minutes later we met the mayor and bounced our environmental awareness project day off him. He loved it. I then asked him if he thought educating people about throwing trash in the river would be good or offensive, as it is a widely accepted and propagated activity. He thought it was good and necessary as it’s causing a big sanitary problem. Lastly, we asked if he had any suggestions. He did. He suggested we get the women to start putting the household trash in one area. The mayor thought this would be an excellent way to start training people for the time when our village could afford trash collection. When we asked how to gather up the women of the village, he pulled out his cell and called Natasha.

Natasha is a health care worker at the local health center which we heretofore believed was closed. It’s not. We went to the health care center and waited. She finally appeared but unfortunately, Diamante had already started her private interviews and wasn’t there. We marched her over to the care and with the help of Diamante got a meeting for next Tuesday with her and as many women as she could round up by then. She thought between 15-20 was feasible.

Kristine felt better and had returned to our village, so we updated her on our project and then power walked the 3.75 miles to Belsh. The road is beautiful, hilly and filled with unexpected lakes, distant mountains, terraced hills and goats. This sounds like the start of a cheesy romance novel, but it’s actually the truth. I’m really glad I didn’t take my camera because I would have never, never made it to Belsh. But I did. Kacey and I made it in exactly 1 hour. Sweaty and thirsty, I decided we had to find an ice cream shop immediately (big surprise). We found a great gelato place that was only 10 leke per scoop. I had banana, chocolate- which tasted like banana in a good way- and vanilla. You guessed it- we took the furgon back.

Tomorrow is Rina’s birthday. I’m going to get her something in Elbasan but I’m not sure what. I hope I can find something in my budget that she likes. I think after I get home we are having a party to celebrate her 17th… thank goodness I can eat bread! I would be pretty pissed to give up birthday cake twice this week.

General Observations

Today was simply not as exciting as yesterday. There was no PC vehicle to come and whisk us off to the big city. We basically had language class, lunch and went home. However I do have some observations that I have yet to mentions. One is the shirt I was that said “I am crazy Lover” among the mass of sayings I cannot now remember. The second, which I actually cannot believe I haven’t mentioned yet, is that Katie’s donkey is named Madonna. Yes- as in the singer or Kangetar. Katie’s host mother loves Madonna so much that she named her donkey after the ‘pop star’ as she is sometimes called her. The last two are discoveries that have to do with my everyday living and are rapidly developing into coherent routines.

First, because of Passover, my family who tries so hard to please me has now started to allow me to make my own egg white omelets in the morning.

This all started Saturday after the tape measure incident. I asked if I could cook my own breakfast the following morning so I could eat less oil. Well… after the tape measure magic, my host mother heartily agreed. I woke up early enough to cook and cooked an egg white omelet with spinach and onions fresh from the garden. My host mother was fascinated by this so she literally stood next to me and watched me the entire time. She was also incredibly helpful- she handed me the ingredients and such. Sunday and Monday she cooked the omelet for me and though it was good, I’d like to be in control of my oil. So, even though I’ve asked every day this morning she finally allowed me to cook again. This is quite an achievement for me. I cannot believe I have an almost oil free breakfast and am able to cook, which I really really enjoy. I think the cooking went really well today. I supplemented my omelet with her homemade bread which is delicious and we drink coffee together which is always quite a nice way to ease into the day.

Rina has been very interested in this new American way of cooking and asked me to teach her. Tomorrow, I’ll make 2 omelets one for me and one for her. Now I can not only have a very healthy breakfast, but can teach Rina how to eat healthier.

Second, I finally ventured out to the non-pee toilet. This might be a bit personal for a blog, but it is part of my everyday life and yours too! Anyway, as it turns out the outhouse that I’ve been so scared of is actually quite nice. In fact, it is possibly the nicest outhouse I’ve ever been to. It doesn’t smell at all, has plenty of toilet paper and has a brand new porcelain toilet. The down side is that it is out of the house, so nighttime use is pretty much out, you have to change from your inside house shoes to your outside house shoes and that it is a power flush (the nice way of saying dump a ton of water in after you go).

Work Out Resumes

I’ve always struggled with my weight. Just putting it out there- I mean what women doesn’t? As much as I hate Mel Gibson, I will the scene in “What Women Want” when the women go running by a thoughts such as “I wonder how many calories that tab of butter has” and “I wonder how many calories I’m burning now” stand out as the few understandable ones. Anyway, I think as an adult I’ve become somewhat obsessed with my weight. That is partially not my fault. My metabolism has slowed considerably since I turned 23. Of course, I didn’t realize this until I turned 25, but that’s a whole different story.
When I was an adolescent- and partaking in sports 11 out of the 12 trimesters possible in high school- I considered a good meal a huge bowl (think cereal) of ice cream. I also liked to nuke bowls of pasta sauce- which is neither here nor there. In boarding school, I was one of the few vegetarians. Being such, my options were limited to bland pasta that I got to nuke in the cafeteria with the equally lacking red sauce. There was salad, but at that time in my life, I had not yet discovered salad.
Now, I have discovered salad and become an ardent fan. In addition, I have learned how to motivate myself to work out alone and am slowly starting to learn how to enjoy running outside. Today I did the Biggest Loser DVD and realized that I really need to get serious about getting in shape. This is partially because I always feel better when I’m in shape, partially because I always feel better after working out and the harsh reality that summer is coming up really soon and I live in country full of beaches. Getting in shape is exceptionally hard for me when I’m a perpetually broke volunteer tempted with a hot and delicious 25-.30 cent Burek made so delicious because it is dripping in oil. The decision to run in the Athens marathon and rapidly approaching summer should provide some motivation. Hopefully, I’ll stay committed to the dvds. Also, this week will certainly help to me to kick the bread habit and burek habit.
Today, for example I bought a yogurt and some tomatoes for lunch. I’ve actually never bought yogurt in Shales because yogurt is made at home and therefore hard to purchase. Even milk is a rarity in the stores in my village. People either have a cow or buy milk from their neighbor with a cow, as my family does. Today, however, we went to Elbasan to language class where yogurt and milk are readily available.
See, Albania officially celebrates two Easters: Orthodox Easter and Catholic Easter. They’re not picky- if only Americans would follow. Both are national holidays and are celebrated on the Monday after. Because today was the first Easter, we were locked out of the school. Now, since we only get the exact amount of money needed for travel to and from Elbasan on city days and a few dollars for lunch, we did not have money to get to the city. The PC car came and whisked us off to Elbasan. We had classes in the PC office in Elbasan. During lunch Ornela took us to the best burek place in Elbasan. I could not partake so I bought the yogurt.
Being in Elbasan was such a treat. We rarely get to go to the city, so it’s always fun. Plus, today we had a personal chauffer meaning we didn’t have to wait in the rain for a potentially full furgon with frequent stops. The driver took us back to the village and en route solved a mystery. The house on top the hill in Than is actually not a house, he told us, but a hotel. Ah… we thought.

No More Washing Machine

Computer lessons are going surprising well. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous when Rina and I started the lessons. She didn’t really understand the mouse (which, in all fairness, is hard to use touchpad mouse) and was hesitant to type. However, now that we are at our 4 or 5th lesson, she is going really, really well. Typing and form have both improved: She is typing words, sentences and using the correct finger positions. Also, her speed and comfort with the computer has really improved. I’m so happy that we are doing the lessons.

Today was a pretty boring work day. We all need those I guess. I’m pretty broke from my Shkoder trip and thought the money for the trip was for 2 weeks, but in reality is supposed to last 3. Obviously, that means no gelato for me. In addition to my trip, I have the added cost of Passover: I cannot eat bread at home to fill me up or buy cheap 30 Leke bread products in Elbasan like Burek. I’m stuck with salad, if I have to eat out, at 250 Leke and buying tuna at the store which is really expensive (1 can is 120-240 Leke, while an entrée sized salad 200-250 Leke). Also, I really tried to keep the Passover spirit of using utensils that haven’t touched bread by buying new knives, Tupperware (for the tuna) and spoons which was not only incredibly difficult but expensive. So, yeah, I’m broke again.

In supplementing my brokenness was my dire need to do work and update my blog. I haven’t been able to post pictures for some time now, and have a pressing project due.

For our environmental awareness day, I am in charge of creating the lesson templates and the learning standards. Luckily, we got a head start on processing the information on Thursday, but realized after Kristen typed the timeline up that we still have a long way to go. So, I spent a few hours last night developing the template, but then had to research projects for our group to look at. Lastly, in addition to the blog, which takes a very long time to maintain, and the lesson templates, I am going to give an informal information session to the language teachers on Judaism. Now, this is truly a wonderful opportunity. After the Seder which 5 teachers attended, many of the teachers who came and didn’t had their curiosutiy piqued about Judiasm. I’m so happy to entertain those questions as the more people are informed, the less sterytypes and misconceptiosn arise. And, as most of you know, am happy to discuss and debate Judiasm extensively. However, no matter how much I enjoy it, today t was antoher work thing to research.

Anyway, as I sit her typing I realize I should relay some other household information. First, as you know I do not have a shower. There is a shower, and a hot water heater, but I bath in a bucket in the middle of the bathroom. Following that protocol, there is a toilet in the bathroom, but that is used only for peeing. Today, I learned the washing machine will no longer be in use.

The other day, I asked my house mother if I could use the machine to wash my clothes, and she said “Neser”- tomorrow. “Ska Problem”- no problem I told her. I really didn’t car, and it was far from an emergency, though I thought that was odd as she usually is actively encourages clothes washing. So, Saturday came and went and clothes were not washed. Not a big deal. Today, Katie came over before heading to Church to get my lesson template. I ran out to meet her, came back and found all my clothes outside being scrubbed down by my house mother. I ran out to tell her to stop. If I knew she would have to manually labor, I would have washed less or waited longer to do it or done it myself. No problem she told me, though I felt awful.

Within minutes the clothes were up on the line drying. I told a few people about this incident today, and learned that some people don’t use the washing machine in the summer. From a sustainable point of view, that is amazing. It is truly a good allocation of resources. However, I still am uncomfortable with anyone washing my intimates by hand. But, now at least I have faith that the other items on the “bring to Albania list” next to “rubber gloves to wash clothes” will be used and loved.

Simulation Station

Today we were sent to five different stations in Elbasan to practice our Shqip under the guidance and assessment of new language teachers as part of our language assessment and learning. New here means that the teachers we went with are not the usual teachers that come to our villages.

The stations included an Orthodox church within the castle walls, whose concealed beauty made the awkwardness of 6 random Americans showing up unannounced well worth it. Until that visit, my voyages to Elbasan had been pretty tame. This is partially because I was too exhausted to explore, but more because my time to explore is almost always limited to the hours between 4:30-6 when just about everything is closed and I am tired and tiring to catch a furgon home.

Besides the Orthodox church, we went to the market where I was able to discover just how cheap Spinach is (1$ per Kilo), a café where we interviewed a staff member, and a few more interviews. Unfortunately by the time our turn came to interview the school, the director had to close the school. We got to interview the head of PST, Mira, instead, which was a good substitute as we got to learn about her past.
All that walking around deserved Pizza, but as it is still Passover I ate a salad and then headed with a few other trainees to a picnic that the current volunteers made for us. I spoke to the proprietor of the pizza restaurant who told me that the wine at the store was handmade by his family, and that he purchases enough for 2 years every other year. That is if I understood him correctly, the odds of which are, unfortunately, a bit low now.

The volunteer picnic was fun. Current volunteers came from all over the country and it’s always good to get to know your cohorts and coworkers in a more casual setting first.

Tape Measure Incident

Sitting in the furgon on the way to Elbasan today started to laugh. I realized how good life is. I’m literally living my dream.
I’m in Albania, which is an incredibly beautiful country situated in, as far as I’m concerned, on one of if not the most beautiful bodies of water in the world: the Mediterranean. I’m near a ridiculous amount history (Italy and Greece) and am close to the East. Well... closer than I was in New York. Surrounded by this striking scenery, I get to meet and work with other likeminded Americans focused on working and helping others. Not that there aren’t American’s helping others in America. There are, but it’s just different being with an entire group of people who concurrently dedicated at least 2 ½ years of their life to service and living an ascetic lifestyle.
On that note, today I received a fantastic package from one of those American helper people individuals- my friend Will a doctor in New York. Will sent me Matzah, which for me during Passover was somewhat of a miracle in and of itself. Surely, it pales in comparison to sparing the first born or parting the red sea, but considering he was amazing able to send the package with extremely little information (I’m talking about my name and city) and have it arrive- intact- 4 days later it should at least receive mini-miracle status. In the package was regular, egg, whole wheat and chocolate matzah. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see flour and water.
Besides the package, my day consisted of the usual round of COD technical sessions. This morning’s session was led by Rob, a volunteer in Shkoder. While it was great to hear him present his work as a professional, I had literally already seen most of it when he took me and the other trainee, Bill, to his office in the Bashkia . After his session, a roundtable of various volunteers who worked at municipalities throughout the country spoke to us. It was interesting but based on my discussion with Diana the day before and site visit in Shkoder (I stayed with one of a select few NGO volunteers in the country) I started to have a sneaking suspicion that I was going to work for an NGO.
Unfortunately, lunch is not very exciting as it is Passover. I basically had yogurt and tuna out of a can. Not something I’d like to repeat everyday for a year, but isn’t that was Passover is about? Suffering a bit? It was during lunch that I was talking to some volunteers about general nonsense and used the phrase “new information has come to light”. I love this phrase. I really do. But when I went to reach for the source, my mind went blank. I could not for the life of me remember where it was from.
I tried pretty hard to remember the phrases origin but as the day passed and I occupied my brain with other issues I forgot to remember. In particular, there was a session with NGO volunteers, which included Becca the volunteer who had come to Seder and Wendy the volunteer I stayed with. That was followed by a diversity session that seemed all encompassing except for the fact that it excluded religious diversity.
During this time, I gave up on racking my brains on the phrase’ origin and went to a great outdoor café off a side street after class with some of my fellow trainees. As I sat in the café the Athens marathon came up. I had heard a buzz about it, but wasn’t fully clear on the details. This time I was given all the info and fully committed. I’m going to do it. After all, it is the original race- Athens to Marathon. I don’t know if I’m going to do the entire 26 miles, but I’m in for at least a 10k. Wimpy- I know, but better than nothing.
I returned home invigorated and went to my room to change. From my room I could hear English blaring from the TV. I went out to see what it was, and low and behold the Big Lebowski was on. Talk about full circle. Within 2 minutes, I realized the origin of “new information has come to light” I also realized that Shqip lacks the diversity of words for good and complete. Thorough- as in “He’s a good doctor and thorough. Very thorough” looses too much when translated at “Doctor Mire dhe [and] mire. Mire.” Or “He’s a good doctor and good. Good.” It’s just not the same. Nor is the Big Lebowski when all the Moses jokes are taken out. I understand the necessity given the audience and fit for TV format, but it’s really not the same without the Sandy Koufax line.
The novelty of watching the big Lebowski with Shqip subtitles having worn off, I went to my room to fetch my tape measure which caused quite a stir. I went to the bathroom to measure myself and emerged with the meter in hand. Immediately, Rina and my host mother wanted to measure themselves. I was a bit hesitance as I didn’t want to be revealed to be fatter than my host sister, but agreed as she is 14 years younger. Low and behold my waist was smaller. Well, I was pretty shocked as she is really thin. She was equally surprised, so we measure my waist and her waist again and discovered that yup, it’s true. I teased her a bit about it since I get teased and spanked on a daily basis by them and thought I should turn the tables a bit. Hey- if you’re going to dish it you gotta take it.

The teasing lead to a serious discussion on eating healthy- my personal concern but now one that I happily share with Rina. If I could teach her how to eat healthily I would be so happy. I explained to her that I eat very little oil or sugar. Oil, though good for you, is really fattening. French fries I explained aren’t exactly packed with nutrients and low calories. That is why, I told her, I didn’t want oil on my sald. She told me that she wanted to learn how to cook American food and I promised I’d teach her.

I also told them that the next morning I’d like to cook. This is because my host mother, who has absolutely the best intentions in the world, has started to make me fried eggs for breakfast. Normally I would love sunny side up eggs, however these come with salt and in a bowl (quite figuratively) of oil. So, I begged her to allow me to cook tomorrow. I hope it works!

CDM Work

Today Tausha- a group 11 volunteer- came to help us with our Community Development Project (CMP). It was an extremely productive session. We brainstormed our objectives, goals and visions on scraps of paper which made us think of how we wanted to structure the activities and pinpoint our learning objective.
Tausha’s Shqip is excellent. Having been in Albania for only 22 days, ours is not. She took us to the school director so that she could help translate and facilitate the meeting. We explained our idea of an environmental education day connected to earth day. He was extremely agreeable. In fact, he suggested calling in tv crews to have it filmed. He called in a few teachers and we exchanged numbers with them. Since the director was the librarian last year and we have our class in the library and he was very familiar with PC, which I think helped us. He agreed to stop by next week to get the details of the project.
At around 10 Diana the head of COD stopped by to discuss our placements with us. After my visit to Shkoder I was thrilled to see her and wanted to tell her how happy I was with the work I saw in Shkoder and with Aarhus in particular. Aarhus combines my three interests perfectly: community engagement, environmental justice/awareness and helping developing countries leapfrog in terms of development.
We went to language class and then met Tausha for lunch. During lunch, she disclosed to us that she is a vegetarian. As such, she knows all the places to scourer for vegetables. She pointed out various the vegetables and spices found around the village, including fennel and rosemary.
Tausha went home and we took the scraps of paper home to sort through and write up. PC work, including CMP, is becoming an increasingly bigger part of my life as the PC progresses and I adapt more and more to my new home. It’s encouraging to realize it’s really not that tough to adapt physically. Of course, that is easily said when you adopt your new home at the very beginning of spring (as opposed to the start of winter) and you genuinely enjoy the food.
Since today focused on CDP, I realize that I should post some pictures of the key players in the neighborhood. There is a seed store, Kommuna (Town Hall), Post office, a few schools, butchers, pastry shop, many drink only cafes, about 4 general shops, a hairdresser, hardware store, vet medicine shop, an internet café, a cemetery and cement factory. Can you figure out which is which?

Travel Back

Seder

Woke up and headed straight back to Elbasan. I don’t get much rest these days. In fact, I’m amazed that I haven’t given up on this blog yet.
Our schedule was changed a bit so that we could debrief our country director Hill about our volunteer visits. Luckily, we all stayed with the best and most productive volunteers so we had only good things to say. I felt particularly lucky; my hosts were so busy with work the husband in the couple had to skip out on a few activities while we were there.

Lunch was spent creating and printing our Haggadas from the internet and recipes for making Matzah from scratch. It is officially the first night of Seder. In fact, I am writing this entry a few days later because of that night was so hectic and one really shouldn’t write (or work or travel or do any of the 39 prohibited activities) on the first two days of Passover.

After our mandatory PST sessions finished, I organized my people. I had 1 volunteer, 4 trainees and 5 teachers coming to Seder, of which only the volunteer had been to a Seder before. I would be fulfilling PC goal number 3 educating other about American culture all around (The 3 Peace Corps Goals haven’t changed since 1961), although I’m not quite sure when they were thought up, that #3 was meant to include other Americans.

After I rounded everyone up I had 6 of us: 5 trainees and Ornela, our language teacher who had generously donated her apartment to the cause. In my attempt to clarify what we needed to purchase, I tried to explain that we had to buy food for a huge meal. They knew it was an important religious holiday but they didn’t know it included a huge meal- how could they? They’re not Jewish and had never been to a Seder before. While people were trying to purchase the various foods typical for an American feast, I explained that for this festive meal we couldn’t have beer, rice, legumes or anything else people wanted to buy. I had explained that we needed an egg, shank bone and bitter herb, and then when they set off to help me purchase the various items had to clarify we needed just one egg, one small shankbone (not a huge leg) and a small bitter herb for the plate, not to eat. It’s tough to learn and/or follow the rules if you’re Jewish so I can only imagine how hard it for someone who had never been to a Seder before.



Unfortunately, I hadn’t headed my parents’ advice about bringing matzah and Will’s matzah had yet to arrive so we had to make our own. We bought some flour in the supermarket and headed to the open market to buy an egg, fruits, vegetables, a shank bone and something, anything, I could use for a bitter herb. The word horseradish wasn’t in the Albanian dictionary and though I tried desperately to describe it and its importance I failed severely. My only hope was to go to the market, see it and buy it.

We split up into tasks: main course, salad, soup and wine. I couldn’t eat the meat regardless, so I put someone else in charge of making the meat dish and went off to find bought the ingredients for a stir fry. We tried in vain to buy a rolling pin for the Matzah and went back to Ornela’s to cook.

At Orenela’s house, Kacey started reading about the holiday. She shared the facts with others aloud, which I was grateful for. It gave me the opportunity to brush up on the story and clarify some of the food rules for people which were slowly becoming more understandable. I realized as I was chopping vegetables that I had completely forgotten to buy a bitter herb. At the market I had become so involved with fielding questions regarding the Passover worthiness of products and finding a rolling pin that I completely forgot my quest for the horseradish. Since the market didn’t have it, my only hope was the EuroMax.

KT and I literally ran across town to get the horseradish at the EuroMax. It wasn’t there. I didn’t know what to do. I looked at the spices and found some curry to cook the stir fry with but nothing bitter. The best thing and only thing I could think of was some sour cabbage. At least I tried. KT and I ran back to find the cooking, timing, and stirring going strong in full force. Kacey was making the Matzah and doing a fantastic job. Chris was timing her. By that point she managed to churn out about 20. Ornela had made the soup and just about everything else. I stated to make the stir fry with the spice I had found at the Euro Max. I then tried to find a Seder plate. Granted, this was one of the tasks I didn’t anticipate being difficult, but should have had the foresight to realize it would be, but I’ll know for next year. I explained that I needed a big plate to hold all the various items that we purchased and the salt water. In trying to help, I think we took out a decent amount of dishes with limited success. We ended up with ¾ the items of one plate- much better than nothing.



The teachers and then volunteer arrived. We now had 11 people and I was almost ready to start. I changed, settled people down and lit the candles with the volunteer. Everyone stood around as I passed out the Hagaddahs and started to read. It quickly became evident to me, that no one except me and the volunteer knew it would be a long time before we eat. Why should they? I failed to tell them and they hadn’t been to a Seder before. I told them that it was best to grab a seat as we were in for a lengthy discussion.

We began. I welcomed people, described what the Hagaddah was for, where the word Seder came from and pointed to the Seder plate. At the point I had talked about the Seder foods so many times, between the shopping, describing and Seder plate searching, that I was getting a bit sick of explaining. I must have been successful, though, because another person was able to explain the items on the Seder plate at that moment. It was really rewarding.

I started to read and had my pile of supplemental info next to me. I said all the Hebrew parts, but passed the English bits to others. Eventually we just read in a circle. After the talking, discussing and reading was done, we finally got to eat. People had all sorts of questions and I was really happy that KT was there. She knows the bible inside and out and was able to help me out with many questions.


Dinner ended and we actually finished the Seder. It’s amazing how willing first timers are to come back and finish the Seder. I don’t even know if I needed the 2 extra glasses as enticement. I wonder if by my 3rd Seder here, everyone will stay till the end…


After dinner we headed back to Mira’s office. On the way, I realized we were basically walking back to the PST office. When asked her if we were sleeping in the office, as she had instructed us to bring sleeping bags, she said no, we were sleeping in her apartment. As it happens, its basically behind the PST office. Poor Mira, she really doesn’t have a break at all.

We finally arrived and the apartment is beautiful. It not only houses Ledi and Mira, but couches, tv and a shower. It was a dream…. Not only that but we were able to run out and buy ice cream. I know that is totally not in keeping with Passover, but I think for most of the guests it was a real treat to be able to purchase something- anything- past 7pm.