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.