Return to Shales

Leg Wax, Leg Wax, Leg Wax! I woke up early, really excited to get a leg wax. I couldn’t believe I finally found a place. I went at 8:45 for my appointment but as I tried to communicate the girl at the front desk that I had arrived for my leg wax it became quite apparent that Wendy and I had spoken to a different girl the day before. This didn’t know who I was and was quite confused when I kept pointing to my leg, slapping it, peeling my hand away and making Shh noises. Clearly, the appointment had not been recorded as I believed it had been. Regardless, the girl was incredibly eager to help and went to set up a room for me. I sat on the table, pulled up my pants leg and she started applying the wax. I should have known right away by the stickiness(think gluestick or honeycomb) and warm temperatures that something was wrong. After about 2 minutes she told me the wax wouldn’t work. The wax wasn’t hot enough. She felt terrible. Clearly, the lengthy discussion the day before regarding making an appropriate appointment time that accounted for the spa’s readiness was not imparted. I told her Ska Problem. I asked her how long it would take for the wax the heat up, she said 20 minutes, so I said I’d return. I explained that I had to catch the 11:00 bus, and she somehow understood my terrible shqip.
I headed out to buy my last northern Burek and some food to tide me over during Passover. I found some tuna with varying accompaniments. The burek was great- not only was it spinach but it came with a side salad of all things fresh and good for about 50 Leke.
I returned to the hot wax. My legs no longer hirsute, I weighed myself on the first scale I saw inside and headed back to Shales. (Yes- you read that correctly. Most scales are on the street. You pay the scale’s owner a fee, and then weigh yourself and probably everyone with you on the scale. That’s a very popular activity here. Many fatter volunteers have been weighed by their host families, most within days of arriving in Albania. According to them, Albanians like weighing fat people).
My timing was perfect. I caught a bus that left a few minutes later and low and behold received the same driver I had going to Shkoder. I guess he was still a bit shaken from the whole incident because he drove very carefully. When I arrived in Tirana, I debarked and checked my belongings. The bus drove off just as I realized my phone battery had fallen out. I ran after the bus, hit it on its side and got it to stop. The ticket collector came out of the back door and then pointed at my bags. In running after the bus I had left my bags behind. He held the bus. I got my bags, brought them back to the bus, and pointed to the half empty phone while trying to figure out how I was going to lug my bags up the bus while I searched the floor for the battery. While I was thinking, he miraculously disappeared and reappeared with the battery. I thanked him profusely and started to orient myself.
In Tirana I debated trying to find the Mexican restaurant or Steven’s place, but decided not to do either as I really like Albanian food. I actually don’t miss American food at all. Maybe I haven’t been here long enough or maybe most of the food here is food I love and eat in America anyway (Tomatoes, olives, plain yogurt, cucumbers, cheese, Greek salad, pizza, anchovies, spinach, and gelato). If I miss anything it’s sushi and that’s not quite American.
I decided the best thing to do was to find the furgon to Elbasan, which turned out to be down the long road from where the Shkoder bus dropped me off. Along the road I found a Belgian chocolate shop which was detrimental to both my physique and wallet, a post office and plenty of banners celebrating Albania’s acceptance to NATO. Even after these pit stops I had plenty of time before I had to return so I decided to take myself out to a big fancy lunch, which probably was the worst thing to do given my extremely limited budget and unpredictable transportation schedules. I went to the restaurant overlooking the main park near the Elbasan furgon. I figured that even though I had plenty of time, it was better to keep the furgons in view. I had a salad with cabbage and fennel for the first time since arriving in Albania, a salty pizza (yummy!) and enjoyed the beautiful view. Luckily, the pizza was only 450 Leke about what it would be in Elbasan, even though I was in a park in the capital city, which saved me from total financial ruin that day.
The furgon took a long time to fill up. As relaxed as I was when I arrived in Tirana, was as stressed as I was leaving. Every time I thought we had enough people, the driver would pause, get off and go wait at the street again. Finally, we left. The ride was not the safest. I won’t go into the details, but I will say the driver to Tirana was fabulous and not every furgon driver seems to recognize that a narrow road in the mountains requires safety first and speed second.
Obviously I arrived in Elbasan alive. I went straight to the Shales furgon and was relieved to see many trainees still milling about, trying to tie up loose ends and trying to find furgons to all the miscellaneous villages. I caught mine and left relatively fast. I sat next to a trainee who told me about her visit. As she described it, her village is so small that going to Elbasan for hub days is like going to Hollywood. Funny because it’s so true. No matter how much I appreciate my family here and their amazing hospitality and kindness, and enjoy the company of the other village trainees, Elbasan is sort of like Hollywood on the few days I get to go. I get to see other English speakers besides the 4 I spend every day with and have multiple lunch options. It is just like Hollywood but with better people.