Venturing Further into Albania

Tuesday, July 21, 2009--Berat (Continued)

After using the Internet, I went out exploring town, since the temperature was getting better in the late afternoon/early evening hours. I walked across a pedestrian suspension bridge and along the riverside to an old arched, one-lane, cobblestone bridge and crossed back over again. I walked through the new town. Then I wandered back again. Many people were out and moving toward town. Albania seems to still be much like the U.S. was in the 1950s when people went to town in the evenings. The cafes and bars all have outdoor tables. The interesting thing is that only men are at these. Women either walk back and forth or go to sit in the park that is in the area.

I had seen a pizza restaurant earlier in the day, so I decided to try it. The prices were so reasonable that I expected small, individual pizzas. But when I entered, I realized they were bigger. Instead of going upstairs where there were tables, I ordered one to go--a combination of salami and proscuitto with cheese and tomato sauce. The man pulled out a ball of dough and worked it with his hands, patting then twirling. He put lots of ingredients on top and then used his spatula to put it in the oven which must have been very hot since the pizza was baked within 6-7 minutes. I bought a bottle of water and went to my room where I only ate half the pizza, since it was about 12 inches (30 cm) in diameter. It was delicious, but probably very unhealthy! Cost of the pizza--$3.27 U.S.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009--Berat to Gjirokastra

I was at the station at 7:40, and the bus to Gjirokastra was already full! There is no other until the middle of the afternoon. The guy did not speak English, but I tried to ask if I could stand. He motioned for me to bring my bag to the back and put it inside. Then I waited. When it was time to load, he motioned me on. Several others who were waiting and apparently wanting to go were sent away. He had individual cushions that rested across the aisle between two seats. He put one down and motioned for me to sit on it. He did this for about 4 others. It was a small bus, so that filled it up.

The road was a back road through the mountains with lots of twists. It was also bumpy. Out of the 24 passengers on board, 6 got motion sickness. I've noticed that several people on every trip I take here have this problem. It must be something within the genes of the people here to give this a predisposition toward this problem. The buses all have packages of small plastic bags which they hand out on request. After someone has thrown up, they tie the bag shut, and it is thrown out the bottom of the door onto the roadside.

We made a long stop (about 1 hour) at a cafe in the countryside after about 2 1/4 hours of traveling. To the side of the place, there were steel cages. One held a bear with a horrible coat. Two others held wolves. It was so sad to see them. They were in the sunshine and were hot. There were no water containers inside the cages.

I had no map of the city of Gjirokastra, so I had to keep asking directions to get to the hotel I had chosen. My guidebook had not given enough details about its location. Before I knew it, I was climbing the mountain towards the castle ruins via a cobblestone street. I tried carrying my suitcase, but it was too heavy and the heat was too hot, especially on such a steep street. I switched to pulling it with its wheels bouncing up and down. I had to stop often to catch my breath. I was 90% of the way up the mountain before I came to the hotel.

Fortunately, there was one room available which I took. It was at a good price and the couple running the place spoke English. I had to cool down and rest before I could go out. Doing that, I fell into a deep sleep. So it was around 15:45 before I was awake and going out to explore the fortifications further up the mountain. While asking directions to make sure I took the right roadway uphill, the owners of the hotel spoke to passing people and commented that they were Peace Corps Volunteers. I told them I had been a volunteer in the 1960s, and we spoke briefly.

Gjirokastra is surrounded by dramatic mountains. And the old fortress is large, dark, and foreboding. I bought a cold bottle of water to help me get up there and see it in the heat of the late afternoon. The fortress is mostly ruins. There is one hall that has been restored with lots of vaulted side areas that have been filled with various kinds of large military guns. Outside, there is an old U.S. plane. My guess is that it was shot down during World War II and was placed there as an example of western imperialism by the communist government that was installed after the war. I took lots of photos of the fortifications and of the views across the valley from up there. I also took photos looking down on the old town with its very old houses covered in thick stone slabs for the roofs.

When I came down from the castle, I explored the old town to find a possible place to eat. I saw a young man sitting down with a book and looked to see what it was. He noticed and held it up for me. It was a French translation of a Thomas Mann novel. The young man spoke to me in English and explained that he is a French volunteer here. This town seems to be full of volunteers! He is a history major completing his master's degree and came with a large group of volunteers to do work related to the historical sites in town. His eventual plans are to complete a doctorate and teach, but he acknowledged that finding a job in history at a university will be difficult. For that reason, he is specializing in East German history and maybe in the broader area of history of the era of communist governments in countries of Europe. His group is staying at my hotel and explains why they only had one room available when I went there. We walked through town and sat on some steps and visited for quite a while. His fellow volunteers were sitting at a cafe across the way and obviously wanted him to join them. So after a while, I excused myself and went to a nearby restaurant he and his friends had recommended.

I sat at a table without noticing who was nearby. Then someone said, "Would you like to join us?" It was the two Peace Corps Volunteers! Along with them was the mother of one of the volunteers who is here visiting her son. Both volunteers are teaching at universities. One is teaching lingusitics, and the other is teaching English. They talked about the problems of teaching here--students who openly plagerize, who think that copying from more than one source removes the possibility of plagerization, who are not used to grading being based on things like attendance and particiation, etc. I asked a few questions about the organization of the Peace Corps these days, and it doesn't seem that much has changed. I told them that I think that two years is too long a period to expect a person to volunteer and that "volunteer" to me means that I should have more of a say in what I do and when I do it than the Peace Corps seems to think. In reality, the Peace Corps operations more like you've signed up as an indentured servant for two years and must do what they say. They both agreed that they would not consider volunteering again.

As we visited, I had a salad and a glass of wine. They were eating muscles, chicken, vegetables, bread, yogurt, etc. It was a real feast. They explained they were taking advantage of the mother's visit to eat more than they would normally be able to afford.

Thursday, July 23, Gjirokastra to Saranda

I was up very early. There was the loud sound of big vehicles going over the cobblestone roadway outside my room, the sound of the speakers from the nearby mosque, and eventually the sun peaking through the window. Therefore, I was cleaned up and ready for the breakfast that came with my room by 6:30. It consisted of two fried eggs, a slice of feta cheese, toast, butter, jam, tea, and coffee.

I carried my bag down the cobblestone part of the roadway toward the bus station. It wasn't so bad going downhill, but I still was getting breathless toward the bottom. From there, it rolled the rest of the way with no problem. I found the bus easily, put my bag underneath and went inside to take a seat. Only a few people were there, since it was still 50 minutes before departure. I started to take a seat behind a young boy sitting alone. He looked up at me, smiled, and patted the seat beside him, so I moved to it and shook hands with him. He was probably 7 years old. He took a photo of me on the bus with my camera, then he let me take one of him. We couldn't talk, but he looked at me and smiled often during the trip.

As I was sitting there, someone patted me on the shoulder and said, "Hello!" It was the Peace Corps Volunteer and his mother who had been at the table last night. They were taking the same bus so he could show her the ruins at Butrint south of Salanda. I will see them tomorrow, but they are making just a day trip there today. Again, we visited. They are going to Turkey and wanted to know what to do with the few days they will be there after they leave Istanbul, so I suggested that I thought going to see the ruins at Effesus would be the best. Then I suggested that they might want to go to Bodrum, too, if they still had time.

One of the things about Albania that I haven't written yet is that there are air-raid bunkers built all through the countryside here. Albania under communism was the "North Korea" of Europe--isolated on purpose and very fearful of others. Hardly any visitors were ever allowed into the country. The citizens were kept completely in the dark about what life was like in other countries. And the bunkers were built to protect the people from the capitalist, imperialist government of the United States! One Albanian who talked to me about this mentioned how poorly the people lived and how much better their lives could have been if the money spent on these bunkers had been spent on improving the living standards. Worst of all, the bunkers were not secure against an attack with atomic or hydrogen bombs, so they were really meaningless in terms of protection!

Saranda is a seaside resort. And this is the high season. Therefore, it was not easy to find a hotel at a reasonable price. Many are full. If rooms were available, they often had three beds making the owners want to charge a high price even though I am only one person. Eventually, I walked away from town a few blocks and found a very clean place for only 20 Euros ($28) per night. It is not as nice as the other places where I have been, but that is only because it has no TV and because the bath, although private for my use only, is across the hallway. I can tolerate that. The other rooms in town were one-half more to double that price. And it is a very clean room with a bed that feels firm and comfortable.