Day 3 Still no Toilet

So I waited all day for the plumber. I had seen him last night when I went to throw out my garbage and he told me he'd come at 8:15. No one came until 5. When they came, my landlord realized he wanted to much to lay the tile, so my toilet still sit, precariously perched on an open hole. My landlord worked out a bathroom schedule with my neighbors, one day here one day there and we'll see how it goes. I hope she finds a tiler before she goes back to Italy! I do have faith and am lucky as this incident, as with the other plumbing incidents has brought me closer to my neighbors and fostered a sense of community. I am trying not to be bothered by the fact that it is centered around my toilet.
Below is a video of some of the creative plumbing solutions and my large, new orange pipe. You will also be treated to the creative electrical solutions which may or may not exist in your country.

Plumbing Problems Fixed?

Today- ok yesterday- my bathroom was torn to shreds. It has been decided by the forces that the only logical solution to my plumbing problems is to rip a huge hole in the wall, put the pipe from the toilet OUTSIDE the building, down the side and into the ground and covered it with chunks of building blocks. So, I spend Monday with the very nice plumbers as they drilled, and drilled and drilled. They then dug a large hole and put the bright orange pipe in and then left the toilet very precariously perched on the tile not hooked up to the tank saying they'd come back today. Unfortunately, due to a communication problem (i.e. no one calling me) I waited around all day today and no one came. At about 3 I finally was able to reach the plumber, who had left his phone at home, who said that some will come tomorrow to hook the toilet up, and put in some flooring. Creativity gets to flourish when there are no building/zoning laws.

No water

I have no water. No one can tell me why. I am the only one. I paid my water bills but oh well. I'm not very upset, as I'd just like to solve the mystery. Is it an accident? On purpose? Will I ever have water again? Be relegated to the only waterless apartment in my communist block building? All I want is an operable toilet. In fact, I'd take a turkish toilet (squat toilet to all you not in Albania) if I didn't spray water out the back or go under my shower.

Thank god I had 3 months to perfect bucket bathing in Shales

Stamping and Bills Take Two

Determined not to let my failure to bring my little book prevent me from fulfilling my duties as a citizen to pay my electric and water bills, I attempted to pay once again. This time, however, I was armed. I brought all of my previous bills for the water and electricity and not one but two little books to be stamped. Loaded with bills and books I proudly stepped up into the Post Office, up to the counter and attempted to pay. After much grumbling on her part due to a bit of confusion about the precise amount owed, some manual addition, I was able to pay. The calculator on the counter being the only electronic devise in the office save for a very large brand new flat screen plasma tv advertising the Albanian postal service.


I then attempted the impossible: I tried to also pay my water bill. I was sent to the regional office. No go. The fourth woman I asked there did, however, know where I could pay it. She directed me down the market to a window. Again, armed with my little water book and bill I stepped up and tried to pay. No go. This window, which is steps from the post office where I proudly pay my electric bills is not the office for your neighborhood. For that you must go to the Mosque and ask around. Actually, she said, the water office is near where you pay the electricity. Hmm.. I thought but I pay my electricity here.

Off to the Mosque I went. I asked multiple civic minded women where to pay the water but was unsuccessful. Finally, a man in a tourist office was able to tell me where to pay my electricity. Well, that is a start I thought. So I headed off to the electricity office. I stepped inside and was directed down the road to the next electricity office. Getting warmer I thought. Outside the next electricity payment office, I saw a women with a little book and bill in her hand. Bingo I thought. This woman pays her bill and knows where to go. I asked, and sure enough she knew exactly where I needed to go to pay the water- the office behind the second electricity office.

I paid the water, but was unable to find out why I don't have water now. I might not push my luck.

Complaints

I've been in Albania for almost a year and a half; In Vlore for just over a 1 year. Justifiably I have been getting some complaints by my limited readership as to the lazy (ok, non existent) pace of this blog. So, I am going to try to play catch as best as I can. The dates may be off but the stories and events truly happened.

Stamping

Woke up way to early for my taste, the sun's intense heat and light felt even through the comfort of my bed, and tried to pay my bills. I was about 50% successful which for Albania is an A+. I managed to pay the rent and internet but couldn't pay the water or electricity because I didn't have my little book. I went up to the counter with the bill and the money and tried to pay, but the ladies at the post office (yes post office, since mail doesn't really exist here the post office is used to pay electric bills) get really bent out of shape when you don't have your little book with a light bulb that says elektric on the front. You see, if you don't have your little book there is nothing for them to stamp. Stamping being a most important and exciting activity, usually done multiple times for one transaction.The book, mind you, is only for me and my records. They keep the bill (i.e. the document I did have with me) for their records. I even offered- at the whopping price of $.50- to purchase a new book, but was refused. So, despite having the
money and the bill I was unable to pay because there was no little book to stamp. I didn't even bother with the water.

I've never seen

a man using a pillowcase to carry a tv before. I was traveling through the south, sitting on the bus, one of the few committed soles determined to take the bus the entire 4 hours drive despite its wretchedly slow pace and habit of stopping randomly on the side of the road per drivers discretion. The alternative, of course, being a direct minivan which at an additional cost of 300 Leke (appox $3.00) didn't seem worth the hour and half shorter journey. (Hindsight is 20/20 isn't it?). As we pulled out at a roundabout, I assumed someone was getting off until low and behold a man carrying fabric stretched around a box got on. He proceeded to carefully walk down the slowly moving bus. When he passed me, I scrutinize the fabric and saw that it was not a cardboard box but television. Hence, today, I saw a man carrying a television in a pillowcase on the bus.

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.