Hair of the Dog

Here in Vlorë there are lots of strays. These are mostly dogs, but there are plenty of cats as well. And Vlorë isn't alone in this. We saw strays in Tiranë and Berat. They seem to be all over Albania, but probably more common in the cities where there is more to eat.

This is not unique to Albania. I remember seeing strays in Turkey and Greece which are both not too far from Albania, but also in India and Ecuador, which are both a good bit further.

I bring this up because I want our blog to not only cover the wonderful aspects of travel, but to give some idea of things in another place that aren't so good. And the prolific strays are not so good.

The expression "hair of the dog that bit you," usually refers to having a drink to help alleviate a hangover. There's no scientific evidence this actually helps, but it is still common practice. The phrase originates from the idea that if you contracted rabies from a dog bite, you needed to put hair from the dog that bit you on the wound for the cure. On this, science is very sure that doesn't help at all.

I am not hungover. I mention the hair of the dog that bit me because yesterday a dog bit me.

I was out walking, which I like to do. I was on a major street and I was walking past a couple stray dogs going the opposite direction on the sidewalk. I pass a lot of dogs when I go out. So does everyone else, and there were plenty of people on the sidewalks at the time. But this one time, just after one of the dogs passed me, it turned around and bit the back of my thigh. I yelped with a mighty "ow!" and the dog went on its way.

I headed home. I was wearing pants, luckily, and I couldn't see the wound, unluckily. I didn't think dropping my trousers in streets of Vlorë was likely to be looked upon with approval or tolerance. When I got home, I found that I was cut, I was bleeding. The pants had not been cut, so no saliva could have gotten in the wound. (That was the lucky part.) I showered and soaped my leg well. Alrica put some antibiotic ointment on the wound.

She also did some research about stray dog bites in Vlorë. Sadly, this is not entirely uncommon here. The city has eradicated rabies, and the suggestion is that you get a tetanus shot. I just got a tetanus shot in May of this year, so I should be good.

This is one of the incidents at which Albanians shrug, whereas Americans would certainly have a stronger reaction than shrugging. We are not big fans of lots and lots of stray dogs in American streets. I try to be accepting of other cultures. But I would rather not be bitten.

Another difference that is hard to accept here is litter. There is so much trash everywhere. The trash system works a bit differently. Throughout the city there are dumpsters. When your household trash is full, you carry it out of your apartment building to the nearest dumpster and throw it in there. They are usually not super far away. And garbage trucks come regularly to empty the dumpsters.

We saw a similar system in Marrakech, Morocco and Quito, Ecuador. But in Marrakech and Quito, the dumpsters were more like the ones in the United States, with lids that are hinged at the back. In Albania, they are open dumpsters, no lids. So after any windstorm, lots of garbage is flung everywhere.

Worse, not everyone respects using the dumpsters. If you live further out from the city center, you have to drive down to a main road to find a dumpster. So a lot of people dispose of their trash in the nearest canal.

Canal between houses with trash here and there

Vlorë is at the base of mountains. They've build a system of canals to take the water from snow-melt or storms. That way when the city has a deluge and the mountains are also sending water downhill, it runs to the bay without flooding the city.

Canal filled with water (and garbage)

But the system doesn't work if the rain is heavy enough. Perhaps you remember when Alrica and I were without power for a day and the city was flooded when there was an amazing amount of rain dumped in a short amount of time. Part of the problem is that the canals were dammed by the bags of garbage that people throw into them. The city government is supposed to clean out the canals once a year and apparently hadn't done so for about four years.

But even saying the city government is supposed to clean out the canals once a year is amazing to me. This means it is just accepted that people throw their trash into the canals. Alrica believes this is a piece of the culture that will make it hard for Albania to become the next major tourism site for Western Europeans and especially for Americans. It definitely detracts from the charm.

So while I work hard not to judge another culture based on my own Western ideas of how things should be, I would also like to be able to take a walk without stepping in garbage or, even more so, being bitten. And I have had many bite-free walks, the vast majority of them. It's just having teeth in one's leg, it's one of those things where one incident is one too many.

The November Holidays

Alrica and I went to a performance yesterday, one that honored Albania. This is the time for such performances, because we are in the middle of the November Holidays.

In Ancient Rome, the year began in March. This meant September, October, November, and December were the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth months. That's how they got their names, with sept being seven, oct being eight, nov being nine, and dec being ten. These months in Albanian also literally means "seventh month," "eighth month," "ninth month," and "tenth month." We are currently in Nentor and the word for nine is nentë.

Nentor is a significant month in Albanian history. In a span of eight days, there are three holidays.

The first of these is November 22, Alphabet Day. Yes, this is literally a day to celebrate the Albanian alphabet. Why? Well, the year is 1908 and a congress has been called to deal with the alphabet problem. Albania wants to improve its literacy and communication, but there's a huge problem. People in different parts of Albania are using different alphabets to write Albanian words. For the most part, people write the words phonetically in those alphabets, when they can. But there are a variety of sounds in Albanian that aren't in the languages which those alphabets were invented for. Some people were using the Arabic alphabet which runs right to left. Others were using the Cyrillic alphabet, some using the Latin alphabet, and groups also used the Greek alphabet.

Albania realized they had a two-fold problem. You can't have people using four different alphabets or communication and education are going to be terrible. Also, you can't let every community decide on its own way to represent the sounds they use that aren't in the alphabet. Thus, the Congress of Manastir was called to deal with the problem.

The Congress decided against the Greek alphabet as it was only used in Greece. They wanted an alphabet used in more of the world. Albania wasn't particularly pro-Russia in 1908, and they felt the Cyrillic alphabet was tied up with Russia. So they decided against that. In the end, they chose the Latin alphabet as it was associated with the West and with progress. That was only half of the work the Congress had to do. They now had to decide which letters or letter combination made which sounds. For example, they decided that the DH would make the voiced th sound of "this" whereas TH would make the unvoiced th sound of "thin". They didn't need C to make a k sound since K made a k sound. So they used C to make the tz sound.

The Independence Monument in Independence Park (and random people who happened to be there)

November 28 is Independence Day. On November 28, 1912, Albania declared its independence from the Ottoman Empire. This was done by Ismail Qemali in Vlorë, Albania. There is a park here in Vlorë called Independence Park with the Independence Monument and the mausoleum of Qemali. This Thursday, while the United States is celebrating Thanksgiving, Alrica and I will be checking out the Independence Day celebrations.

The Independence Day Flag in Independence Park (and other random people)

Then November 29 is Liberation Day. This commemorates events in World War II. Italy conquered Albania during the war, but many Albanian resistance fighters took to the mountains to reclaim their land. Italy fell, but Nazi Germany took over. In 1944, the Nazis had a lot of trouble. The Normandy landings were in June of 1944. The Nazis declared that they recognized Albania as an independent neutral nation and in September 1944 they put in place their own puppet government of Albania. Yes, they were Albanians, but under the control of the Nazis. On November 29, 1944, the resistance fighters ousted this puppet government and restored Albania to true independent rule.

Mausoleum of Ismail Qemali (random people is a running theme)

So its a busy week, right? In celebration, there was this performance that we attended at the Petro Marko Theater here in Vlorë. The theater is named for Petro Marko, an Albanian novelist of the communist era, post World War II. He is considered by many to be the father of Albanian prose.

Petro Marko (no random people, are you happy?)

Alrica had read about this performance which promised a variety of dance in celebration of Albania's independence. We thought it would be interesting to see. And it was, though it wasn't at all what we expected.

Teatri Petro Marko from the outside

When the curtain rose, there was a backdrop of red cloth with the black double-headed eagle symbol of Albania on it in several places. There were over a hundred children on stage, ranging from four or five year olds to teens. They were all in red, and each waved little Albanian flags. The children were 98 percent girls, there were only a couple of boys. Some patriotic song was playing. I don't know a lot of words but it definitely mentioned Albania many times. And in the audience, dozens of arms shot up with cell phones, recording video of the event. All of a sudden, Alrica and I knew what we had arrived at. A dance recital for children's dance classes. We may have been the only non-family members there. But we decided to stay for a bit, see what we could see. We ended up staying through the whole performance.

Teatri Petro Marko on the Inside

In many ways, this was exactly like dance class recitals in America. There were unified costumes not all of which fit everyone perfectly. There were way more girls than boys. The dances were split into various age groups with the little ones being adorable but having very simple moves and most of them getting those wrong. The teens were excellent with much more sophisticated dances, great synchronization, and some beautiful artistry. My favorite piece of the event was an interpretive dance by the teens to instrumental music. The girls were all dressed in black, except one who was in red. I am sure the dance represented Albania's struggles against the many conquerors who came through this land, with Albania always holding on to its own character and yearning to be its own free, independent land. The beauty of instrumental music and interpretive dance is that you don't have to speak the language to glean the meaning.

There were some aspects which were quite different from similar dance recitals in the United States. Between some of the dance acts, these grown men would come out and perform songs or raps. Apparently to be a rapper in Albania, you have to dress like you are outside in the winter. Big puffy coats and stocking caps are the appropriate attire.

Another big difference was the declamations. There was an emcee and she came out a couple times and said something in Albanian. Then girls of many different ages would walk up one at a time. The emcee would hold the microphone before them and the girls would declaim a poem. How do I know it was a poem? Well, there were rhyming words and meter. The poems were again patriotic. Was each girl reciting the next part of the same poem or was each reciting a different poem? I don't know. I have very little idea what was being said.

What was surprising was how good these girls were at reciting the poems. Even the young ones were loud and clear and had great stage presence. None of that mumbling into the microphone I might have expected. They were proud to say whatever it was they had to say. Alrica and I sat at the back and we probably could have heard some of those girls even if there had been no microphone.

So we stayed for the whole thing. I didn't particularly love the heavily jacketed rappers, who were rapping to prerecorded tracks which also had the words being rapped. So you were hearing the recorded words and the words in the microphone on top of each other. But we very much enjoyed the performances by the kids.

Another key difference is in audience behavior. There was a lot of talking in the audience during the performance. And that seemed to be okay with everyone. Sure, in America audiences talk, but other audience members shush them. Here, nobody shushed anybody. Also, there were children, presumably siblings of the ones on stage, who were running laps around the seats. Again, nobody seemed to care. There was even one point when one of the rappers was on stage that a little girl, maybe three, ran up on stage from the audience and then crossed the stage and went backstage, maybe looking for a sibling. Nobody laughed, nobody seemed to think anything of it. Just one of those things that happens in a theater, I guess.

We enjoyed these differences too. It is fascinating to see another culture, and experiences like this, not planned, not part of a package tour, they show you a great deal about the character of the people.

Today, we will have some more chances to experience Albanians in their everyday lives. We're going to a football game. (Of course, I mean soccer.) And tonight we are going to a polyphonic music concert, again as part of this week of celebration. I don't know what an Albanian polyphonic music concert entails. And that's all right with me. The fun is in the discovery.

The Irony is not Lost on Me

Last week I posted about my aborted attempt to reach Kaninë Castle for fear of rain. Today, I decided to have another go! I had finished all my grading yesterday. The forecast called for sunshine with cool but not cold temperatures.

The castle is, as the crow or the two-headed eagle flies, only 3 kilometers away from where we are living. That's about 1.86 miles. Not far at all. Okay, well, you can't walk there in 3 km. You would have to go straight up the steep side of a wooded mountain. Or is the steep wooded side of a mountain? Or the wooded side of a steep mountain? Let's play it safe. You'd have to go up the steep, wooded side of a steep, wooded mountain. Yes, it's overkill, but hopefully it gives you a better image in your mind. If you care, the name of the mountain is Shushicë.

One of the higher parts of the castle

The path up is 4.7 km (which is very close to three miles.) I normally walk about three miles per hour. But this particular walk is quite a bit uphill, so I can't make it in an hour.

Below is Vlorë and Vlorë Bay

I made the assumption that someplace which is within a two mile radius of where I'm staying would have the same weather as the place I'm staying. The weather for Vlorë was forecast as sunny and mild. It has to be the same in Kaninë, right?

Wrong. Honestly, I should know better. I lived in Reno and I know how changes in elevation can dramatically change the weather experienced by locations not that far apart. But I assumed all would be fine. And you know what happens when you assume? It's the same, more or less, as when you suppose.

The East Gate, a tower, and where you would pay if anyone were there

It rained on me while I was at the castle. And yes, I see how ironic this is. Last week, I turned back for fear of rain, this week I forged ahead believing I was rain-immune and found out my immunity had been revoked. Not to fret. Let me assuage your fears and start with the good news. This was not a heavy rain. Heavier than spritzing, lighter than pattering. Maybe a robust sprinkling is the best way to describe it. I was wearing my ugly hat, which kept my hair and my eyeglasses dry. I also happened to be in my quick-dry shirt and my quick-dry pants. That wasn't by design, but when you only own four tops and three bottoms, it isn't an insignificant chance that you will be in any particular outfit. By the time I got back down the mountain and into Vlorë—which was quite sunny— my clothing was all dry again.

Now I am going to tell you about one interlude in my trek up the mountain. When Alrica reads this, I am expecting one of three reactions.

• A lecture
• A look
• A shrug
  

Honestly, I'm not sure which one I am going to get. But allow me to describe the whole situation. At the edge of Vlorë, right at the end of the Rruga Bej Vlora-Kanina (or the Vlorë-Kaninë Road) there is a fountain. I don't mean a fountain with carved spitting fish or jumping water. I also don't mean a drinking fountain as in the kind we have in the United States. Take a look at the picture. This is a structure from which clean water is always running. There is no on-off spigot, it just keeps flowing. But it is clean city water. And people who live up the mountain and don't have their own water come down to this spot, park their car at the side of the road, and fill ten liter containers to then bring home.

Kaninë Fountain

Today, when I was passing the fountain, there was an older man filling his ten liter containers. We nodded to one another, nods being a universal language. I mention this interaction for a reason.

I continued past and started up (quite literally) the road. About twenty minutes later, there is a honk from a car coming from behind me, from the direction of Vlorë. It's the man I saw at the fountain. And he stops in a lane of traffic (not that this is a super busy road) and beckons for me to come into the car. I shake my head no and he beckons more.

So what do you do? That's your call. Better question: What did I do? I decided, okay, I'm getting in the car with him. Now, before you judge, let me lay out my case.

First, I'm male. It's not fair, it's not right, but if I were a lone woman walking along the road and a man indicated I should join him in the car, that would be a very different situation. Also, the man is probably in his seventies. I figure if things turn ugly, I can take him. Finally, when Alrica and I travel, we want more than just seeing the sites. Alrica and I want to know the culture, experience something beyond the tourism. Maybe this would be a bizarre, but cool, Albanian experience.

Have you seen the recent news stories about the woman in Georgia (the state, not the country) who has a ten year old son. And the son decided to walk a mile into town (tiny rural town). Then a neighbor asked the kid if he was okay, he said yes, she called the cops anyway. And now the mother is being charged with a crime. And she's being told she has to sign some safety plan or she might go to jail and the government might take the kids away. I read about this story. And it is so American.

The United States, for all its wonderful qualities, is a country of fear. Everyone is afraid of what could happen. Naturally politics doesn't help with politicians stoking fear to get votes. But it goes well beyond that. Here we have a ten year old who plays in the woods behind his house, walking a mile into a rural town where he probably knows all the citizens. And the mother, who didn't know he was doing this, but you can't always know where your kids are at all times, is being charged for it.

Most of the world isn't like that. Here in Vlorë, for example, Alrica and I see children, much younger than ten, walking along Qemali Boulevard with no parent in sight. This is in a city of 90,000 people, where this child doesn't know everyone he sees on the street. But the people are good people and they don't live in fear of a possible, but highly improbable, bad person.

So all of this, for better or worse, was in my mind. I didn't want to live in fear. I didn't want to live in that fear which America instills in me. I wanted to see what would happen. My instinct said this was not the improbable bad guy. So I got in the car.

Obviously, I am writing this blog post, not from beyond the grave. What is the opposite of beyond? Within? No, I'm not within the grave. I'm writing this post from unbeyond the grave. So you know nothing terrible happened already.

What did happen? We rode, in silence (because we didn't share a language,) for maybe a kilometer or so. Then he got to a point where he needed to turn off the main road to get back to his home. He pointed up the side road to communicate this. I got out, said "Faleminderit" (which means thank you), we shook hands, he turned left, and I continued up the road.

Was it an amazing Albanian experience? No. But I met a good person who wanted to help me out. That was pretty cool.

I love that the north gate is still there even though the wall has crumbled and you could just walk around it

Wow, I've written a lot and I haven't even told you about the castle yet. Let me do so: Kaninë Castle is built alongside the village of Kaninë. The original castle is ancient, built somewhere around the third century BCE. It was refortified in the sixth century CE and had a medieval village inside it in the 14th century CE. (There are signs at the castle in both Albanian and English.) The castle became less strategically important in the sixteenth century. It was damaged in 1690 by Venetian bombing. It was abandoned in the nineteenth century. And it was damaged immensely during World War I by the Italian Army.

I assume the openings are for fighting, using bows or guns

There are still many pieces of walls that remain, parts of some towers, and interesting features in the stonework. The techniques used in the various centuries in which wall building took place were quite different. In addition, the tower had three gates and it still does: the east gate (into the village of Kaninë,) the north gate (down a hill), and the west gate (which now seems to lead to a private home.) The south is the side on the very vertical cliff-face. You don't want a gate there!

Normally, it costs 300 Lek to visit the castle (which is about $3.25) but this is not their tourist season. So there is no one there collecting any fees. I saw one other person exploring during the whole time I was there. It does offer spectacular views of Vlorë, Vlorë Bay, the Narta Lagoon, the valleys on the other side of the Shushicë Mountain, and Kaninë (which has a very pretty mosque with a silver dome and a thin minaret.)

You can see the minaret and if you look to the left, the silver dome

Then I headed home. I didn't get any rides back, but it's almost all downhill. The rain didn't want to follow me outside of the castle grounds, so it was a nice descent.

And if you think I'm a fool for taking the ride, well, feel free to tell me about it. I'm not promising it will change my decisions in the future, but I'll at least learn not to tell anyone about it.

Cost of a Month in Vlore, Albania

There are all sorts of ways to see the world, from high end tours to truly living as an expat. For Erich and I, we really are budget travelers. We look for ways to keep our costs down so that we can do the things we want to do and not have to work full-time to make ends meet. We are definitely not on vacation though. We sometimes say that we live boring lives in exciting places. Our goal is more to learn about a place and its culture than to "see the sights." 

Okay, let's talk money. Erich and I keep a monthly budget broken down into actual expenses divided into the categories of lodging, food, gas/travel, cell phones, and health/entertainment. Our goal for all of these categories is to stay under $3060 each month for the two of us with the understanding that some months are going to be splurge months and the others will make up for it. 

Our first full month in Vlore, Albania cost us $1,810! We will definitely be pushing the extra to our upcoming splurge over Christmas!

Lodging: Our first month in Vlore was a 2 bedroom/1 bath place that looked out on the beach in a quieter part of town that charged $878/month. We liked it but it kept having problems with power outages and it was a bit farther away from all the things we wanted to do. In the early November, we moved about half a mile away to a new apartment that doesn't have such an amazing view but only costs $685 for five weeks and has two bathrooms, plus it is in a better part of town. Because we were already in town, we met with the landlord and negotiated the price directly. If we could sign a lease for a year, 2 bedroom apartments overlooking the water are asking around $400 here.

 

 

 

We really enjoyed the view from our first apartment and the beach behind us!

Food: The food here is fabulous, if not as varied as we are used to in America. There is no McDonalds or Starbucks in the whole country but the produce is straight off the farm and easy to get. We find that we end up buying groceries every couple days since it is super fresh but goes bad quickly. We also eat out 5-6 days each week because the prices for a standard meal will run us around eight dollars for the two of us. Albania is very much a cash economy with very few places accepting credit cards and ATMs charge around $7 per withdrawal so we are thoughtful about how much we withdraw. Food for the month ran $766. 

Today's fruit purchase came to $2.50. Love trying things like persimmons that are in season when everything is perfectly ripe!

Gas/Travel: Vlore isn't close to an airport so no flights this month but we did do a great two day trip to Berat and our total for this came to $22.

                                                                            Berat, Albania

Cell Phones: We recommend a local provider called One. Don't purchase it at the airport if you can help it because you get better prices and options in the city. Our two sim cards came with 2 GB of data and unlimited calls and texts for $24 total. Before we left the US, we ported our US phone numbers to Google voice so we can still use those numbers any time we have internet, and wifi is everywhere. BTW, if you are traveling, you might check out esims. Our phones don't take them but if yours does, they can be less expensive, though the service isn't quite a good yet in Albania. 

Health/Entertainment: Since it is off-season, a lot of tourist sites that normally have charges don't right now and Albania isn't a place that has gotten into the habit of charging entry for everything (though it is considered good manners to donate some cash when you enter a mosque). We were also both due for a dental cleaning and visited a local dentist this month. He was super clean, spoke great English, and charged us $21/each for our cleaning/checkup. We highly recommend this! Total this month came to $86.

Hope that this helps anyone looking to spend some time here. It is a beautiful country and allows Americans to live here for a year visa-free so well worth checking out.

The Quasi-Intrepid Explorer

I used to motivate my children, when we were out hiking or traveling to new places, by describing us as intrepid explorers. I doubt they would call such talk motivating, but I had the purest of intentions. I certainly think of myself as an explorer, which I am. I also like to fashion myself an intrepid explorer. But in the cold light of reason, looking at myself from the outside, I'm afraid I have to disagree with me.

The truly intrepid explorer has a goal, a destination, and he or she or they will reach that destination regardless of atmospheric conditions, lethal impediments, or societal scorn. Such an adventurer laughs at gale force winds, impending monsoons, or nearby wildfires. There may be ravenous beasts, unfriendly natives, or deities who look down with disdain upon the enterprise, still the explorer's boundless intrepidity cannot be quelled.

But for some of us, that intrepidity is not quite so boundless. (Would that make it boundful?) We are the quasi-intrepid explorers. When I, for example, decide upon a destination, I have every intention of reaching it, so long as I don't have to get damp in the process. In the musical Les Miserables Éponine sings, "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." Sorry, É, I'm not in total agreement with you on that.

This last week Vlorë has experienced a period of rain. And while I have not been dampened much by it, my enthusiasm for long exploratory walks has been. But don't give up on me entirely. I did try once.

The morning had been precipitous, but the forecast called for a cessation, for a few hours, of the rain. So I set out for Kaninë Castle. That should have been about an hour and a half walk there and obviously another hour and half back. I was about an hour into my ramble when, seeing the cloud cover thicken and deepen, I had a tough decision to make.

I had already ascended quite some distance. While Vlorë is on the coast, the castle is up in the mountains. I had hiked well above the city already. Did I want to turn back?

The city below in the distance

That would mean I was heading downhill, always easier than up. But it would also mean a future foray to the castle would require I regain all that elevation a second time. So maybe I should just push on.

Proof of the steepness! (Why is that word not stepth?)

On the other side of the metaphorical coin, I had forgotten to bring what I lovingly refer to as my ugly hat. It is a fabric hat with a bill over my eyes and a flap over my neck. I almost always wear it for hikes and walks because it provides protection from sun (and ticks, but I wasn't worried about ticks on this particular excursion.) But flipping the coin back over, it's November now. The sun's rays are diffused, and with the cloud cover already present, sunburn wasn't a major concern.

In the end, the increasing threat of rain provided the boost I needed to make a decision. I turned around and headed back for Vlorë.

While I didn't reach my destination, I did see other interesting things of note. In particular, on the way back, I had a companion walking on the other side of the road, a goat. Apparently, a herd of goats was grazing on the sharp descent that was just past the road. One of these goats must have found a break in the safety barrier and gotten on to the road. It didn't seem happy about this fact, but also didn't seem to remember where its point of ingress and egress was. I must acknowledge the prowess of the goats though. I could have tried their path to get back down the mountain more quickly. However, I would have certainly fallen and fractured some things I prefer to keep whole (even more than I prefer to keep dry.) the goats, on the other hand, or the other hoof, found no discomfort in the near verticality of their terrain. I guess there is a benefit to having four legs. And being a goat.

Stuck on the road and maaaaad about it

I chose—wisely I believe—to keep the road between my fellow pedestrian and myself. I stayed on the uphill shoulder and the goat stayed on the downhill side. Many of you might, like the viral video idiots in Yellowstone who want selfies with bison, have thrown caution to the wind and approached more closely. (Why did the chicken not cross the road? Because there was a goat over there!) But me, well, I'm happy enough with a picture from across the street. After all, I'm only quasi-intrepid.

The Merchant of Vlore

"So shines a good deed in a weary world." I was reminded of this quote when a good deed was done to me yesterday.

Many of you may recognize the quote and know its source. If not, here is a hint: Willy.

Yes, that's right, Willy Wonka said it after Charlie Bucket returned the everlasting gobstopper. But in fairness, he didn't originate the saying. He was quoting his own namesake, another Willy almost as famous as the chocolatier himself. I refer to one Willy Shakespeare. If you didn't know he habitually went by Willy, I don't know what to tell you. All his peeps called him Willy. Pretty sure I am on firm historical ground with that claim.

What is not disputable is that "So shines a good deed in a weary world" is a quote from The Merchant of Venice. This is a play which, at its core, is steeped in antisemitism. Spoiler alert: In favor of antisemitism. It is one of Shakespeare's comedies, and what's funnier than a greedy Jew getting comeuppance? (You will find plenty of Shakespearean apologists who claim Shakespeare is parodying antisemitism and is not himself antisemitic. I don't know, I mean, even though I feel familiar enough to call him Willy, I can't say I ever discussed his views on the topic of Jews.)

If the plays of Shakespeare were written by Shakespeare, of whom we have no evidence that he ever traveled outside the island of Britain, then he didn't actually know any Jews. Jews were expelled from Britain in 1290 by Edward I, and they weren't allowed back until 1656 under Oliver Cromwell. The Merchant of Venice was written in 1596 or 1597, so this certainly happened in Britain's Jew-free Interval.

This is all somewhat of a tangent, as I am not in Britain, but instead in Albania. Albania has a long history of helping Jews and others who were expelled or fleeing persecution. The oldest record of any Jews in Albania goes back to 70 CE. Exactly how these Jews came to be there is unclear, but one hypothesis is that they were Sephardic Jewish slaves being transported by Rome and after a shipwreck they came to Saranda (called Onchesmos by the Greeks and Anchiasmon by the Albanians at the time), which is a city in the south of modern day Albania. A synagogue from the third or fourth century has been excavated by archaelogists.

The Albanians have a cultural idea called besa through which they feel bound to help peoples in need. In 1492, Ferdinand and Isabella (of Columbus fame) expelled all the Jews from Spain. Many sailed the Mediterranean to find new homes, and many settled in Albania.

There is evidence that Jews reciprocated the care of those in need. In the early 20th Century, Albanian nationalists wanted independence from the Ottoman Empire. The Empire accused Jewish Albanians of sheltering and colluding with these nationalists. At this time, Vlorë was the only Albanian city to have a synagogue. That synagogue is no longer in use, but there is a street in the city colloquially called "Jewish Street" with Stars of David in the stonework.

The Jewish Street

Decorative Elements of the Street

Then came the 1930s and troubles in Germany and Austria. Many Jews fled those countries and many went to Albania. Albania continued to issue visas to Jews through its Berlin embassy after every other European nation stopped accepting them.

In 1939, Italy (fascist at the time) occupied Albania and when Italy surrendered to the Allies in 1943, Germany under the Nazis occupied Albania. But the Muslim and Christian Albanians helped their Jewish neighbors, creating false identity papers or hiding Jews in cellars and hidden rooms. It was one of the few European countries to have more Jewish people in it at the end of World War II than it had at the beginning.

After World War II, Albania was ruled by a communist dictator, Enver Hoxha. He outlawed all religions, not picking on only the small number of Jews in the country. The large numbers of Muslims, Catholics, and Eastern Orthodox citizens were equally unable to practice their religions. That period ended in 1991, but today there are estimated to only be between 40 and 50 Jewish Albanians. They almost all live in Tiranë, the capital city.

As is my wont, I have now taken you on a multi-paragraph journey that, while related, is far from the original impetus of my post. The question is what good deed was done to me that put me in such a contemplative mood? Last night, Alrica and I returned to a restaurant we have enjoyed several times called Natyral. (The y is pronounced like the "oo" in "foot", and this word in English is "Natural".) As I placed our order, the young man who works at the register told me that the previous time we had been there, he had made a mistake and overcharged me by 300 Leke. (This is about $3.25.) I hadn't realized I had been overcharged, I never would have known. He could have kept the money and I would have been none the wiser. But here he was, handing me 300 Leke.

That's honesty. That's character. In a time that feels increasingly contentious, xenophobic, and more and more tribal, such a good deed shines all the more brightly, making the world is a little less weary.

A Question Answered

Today, I took another trek to see Grandmothers. I set off to see Liqeni Babicë, which translates as Grandmother Lake. I was drawn because the map claims there is a hiking area by the lake. We'll get to that.

Also right around the lake are two towns. One is called Babicë e Vogël which means Little Grandmother, and the other is Babicë e Madhe which means Large Grandmother or possibly Great Grandmother. And I might have seen some grandmothers and maybe even some grandfathers, but not at the lake. I was the only one at the lake.

The lake with Babicë e Vogël in the background

What was referenced as a hiking area was really a dirt track for trucks to get down to the lake. There were no trails around the lake itself. It isn't a big lake, nor a particularly pretty lake. But it's a lake and in the summer probably a nice place to swim.

What was more interesting was the walk. Because it answered a question I had discussed previously with Alrica. One thing I noticed in Vlorë is that there are no cemeteries. I couldn't find any, not in the city itself.

When I took my hike out to St. Mary's Monastery and out to Cypel, I did pass a small cemetery on the way out toward Zvërnec. And there is an even smaller cemetery at the monastery itself. In fact, one of the people buried at the monastery is Marigo Posio, who is Albania's Betsy Ross. She was a political activist at the time of their independence in 1912 and she made the first Albanian flag.

Statue of Marigo Posio in Vlorë

But these small cemeteries couldn't account for the number of people who must have died in a place as large as Vlorë. My path to Grandmother Lake took me past, and through, the answer. Outside of the city, near Babicë e Madhe is a cemetery. Not just a cemetery, an enormous cemetery. It took me about 15 minutes to walk the length of it. So assuming I move at around 3 miles per hour, it was three-quarters of a mile long. I would guess at least an eighth of a mile wide. And it was packed full of graves, tens of thousands of them. They were right up against each other.

The area outlined in red is all cemetery

One thing that is a little bit sad in travel is that you will never fully understand the culture of another people. You can learn a lot but some things are hard to know, to understand, to communicate. Today it struck me that I didn't really know the practices of Albanians regarding their deceased loved ones. I didn't see a funeral today, but I did see several people coming out, by car or by taxi, to visit a loved one.

As I might have expected, many carried flowers. But what was different was how many of them also carried a ten liter container of water. So I took a closer look at several of the gravesites.

They all involve very lovely headstones, many carved in crescents and hearts and some just rectangular. Often a photograph of the person in life is included on the headstone. Many of the gravesites have a solid rectangular prism of stone over the ground, presumably where the body is interred. But some are more like a garden plot. There is a headstone, but then the gravesite itself has a rectangular border of stone. And within the border is dirt.

For many of them, nothing was growing in the dirt, or some had a few flowers planted. But for others, this plot was filled with flowers and small shrubs growing in the dirt. And the people visiting their loved ones with water were also watering the plants growing over their deceased family member.

I think the idea is beautiful: new life coming from the life of those you love. So even if my ultimate destination wasn't all I hoped for, I'm glad I took that walk today.

The Long Walk to Cypel

I did another trek. Yesterday I went out to Cypel. This is the point at the northern end of Vlorë. To the left is the bay, to the right, the Adriatic Sea. Of course, the water doesn't know which part it's in.

Vlorë Bay to the left, Adriatic Sea to the right, bunker in the middle.

Cypel is pronounced Tsoopail. The "c" is more of the "ts" sound like the "zz" in pizza. in fact, in Albanian, the word for pizza is pica, pronounced just like the English word. The "y" is the "oo" sound of foot or good, not the "oo" sound of choose or mood.

Cypel from above

It took me a little over two hours to walk there. I had seen pictures of Cypel, but these pictures were all taken from boats. They show the point from the bottom. As you can see, my pictures are from above. I could not find a practical way to get down from the top of the point without ending up in either the bay or the sea. And I wasn't sure I would be uninjured. And I wasn't sure I would find any way back, aside from swimming.

More Cypel, still from above

But I did do some quality scrambling over rises and rocks to get as far as I did. I know my son would have mixed emotions had he seen me performing my quasi-athletic feats. He would have been approving and proud that his father attempted and succeeded the ascents and corresponding descents. But he would also have the eye roll of disdain, knowing that what required my intense concentration to figure out where to put my hands, my feet, and occasionally, my bottom, would have been to him a trivial matter easily accomplished in loose fitting sandals and with his conscious mind occupied with question of subatomic particles.

Here is the path. I promise there were trickier parts to traverse than this.

All of that is beside the point. I made it and experienced my own sense of accomplishment for doing so. Plus, I got to take pictures.

Incidentally, along the way I crossed beside Naturist Beach Zvërnec. For those who don't know the alternate term, a naturist beach is what in America would be called a nudist beach. Some of you might be more curious what I saw there, as opposed to a Cypel. Sorry to disappoint you, but it was the first of November. We are way out of season. Though it was sunny, I saw no sunbathers, no one skinny dipping, nothing remotely risque. Unless you consider an Albanian man fishing as semi-scandalous. He was clothed, so I give it a zero on the suggestive scale.

What is interesting about the naturist beach is its location, right between the beach access for two hotels. I wonder how much privacy the naturists experience in the busy time of the year. Probably not as much as I had on my solo walk.