Halloween Party 2009!

Drum roll please..... Ta-da! The four of us have been planning this group costume since last spring. We are the representatives for the Miss Universe Beauty Pageant (1990). Entela represents Albania, I represent the USA and Sarah and Tracey tied for Miss Canada (because it's such a large country of course). Mom sent us these magnificent tiaras, we had the sashes printed at the printers, and the seamstress worked her magic on the dresses. (Albania is swarming with tacky fake flower.) We were set for a night of magic at the Berg's annual Halloween party.



Children were welcome until 10, then they were dismissed! The Berg's eldest daughter's band played and did so well. It's primarily made up of half the swim team, actually. Travis, seen as Gandhi below, really was rocking out!




Amy came as a Samurai warrior. She and Travis won (for the second year in a row) the prize for the best couple costume. It was an accidental couple costume, but it was PERFECT. War and Peace... Amy is so clever.



Tracey decided that her talent was "Interpretive Ribbon Dancing." Florian had a supply of ribbons (he's our P.E. teacher) so Tracey was able to wow the crowd with her mad skills. I swear, I was laughing so hard I had tears rolling down my eyes. I think the parent I was talking to thought I had gone mad, or was a little drunk (neither were true, I was just highly amused).



Here are a handful of the students cheering Miss Epp as she was dazzling us with her ribbon routine. Apparently, they had been waiting for our arrival with bated breath, wondering, wondering, wondering what 4 of their favorite teachers were dressing as. I love teaching. It's like having your very own fan club.



And the winners are.... Second year running and we walked away with the prize for the best group costume. Sarah summed it up nicely as she accepted our prize. "We just want World Peace!"

What beauty pageant is complete with out a brawl at the end? It wasn't as well rehearsed as our skating routine, last year, but it managed to be just as impressive.



Another great party, another great night, another great reason why I love my oversea life!

A Nessesary Weekend

I love how one weekend can completely change someones perspective. This was just such a weekend. The plan was to take a van to an old Ottoman town, Gjiokaster, and spend the Mother Theresa three day weekend exploring an old castle. Well, some people were sick, others tired and the plan changed. It became a Tirana weekend.

Perhaps the catalyst of my attitude change came Friday evening. What a way to begin three days of bliss! I made my Christmas plans. Three days in Prague, twelve days in Santa Maria, back to Prague for a day, and then home to Tirana in time for the New Year! These travel plans may seem ordinary, but it took about two months of soul searching to arrive at this decision. I felt an instant peace when I acknowledged that I would rather go home for Christmas than spend two weeks soaking up the sun somewhere along the Indian Ocean. How many days until Christmas?

Saturday, Entela, Tracey and I set out to the the Chinese Turkish Market to find material for this year's Halloween costumes (which will be revealed in a later post, I'm sure). We found the perfect fabric and bought enough for four dresses (for Sarah too, of course). The shop keeper actually had a little shop, as opposed to a stand. He was quite friendly and took a great deal of money off of our purchases. At one point, I started laughing. The man, who is in his late 50s, looked at me and very seriously said, "You are very beautiful." That made my day! I'm not naive; I know it was just flattery, but it's not everyday a girl is called beautiful.

We had such a lovely walk all around Tirana. It was cool, but not cold, the sun was shining, and the Lana River was not smelly. The sky was intensely blue and clear. Autumn days like this past Saturday do not come around too often. The three of us stopped for Albanian fast food: suflaqe. It's pita bread stuffed with chicken, yogurt, onions, cucumbers and tomatoes. I highly recommend it. Our dining experience didn't end with the suflaque. Motla, and later Violeta, joined Entela, Tracey and me at Ferdinand's, my second favorite Italian restaurant in the city, for a late dinner. A good meal, followed by a relaxed drink, is always appreciated.

Sunday, I went to church, then went to lunch after. It seemed like such an American thing to do. Sometimes, I just love American customs. Especially, if it is dining with a family with two adorable boys. Then, I came home and Tracey and I baked cookies and walked to the produce market. While we were at the market, we heard the sunset call to prayer. It honestly is so haunting; I get chills every time I hear it.

The evening ended with Tracey, Entela and I having an impromptu dance party in my living room. We had had a movie/dessert night. Really, you can't watch Hairspray without feeling a bit inspired.

Today, was another good day. I did a bit of school work and then joined Stephen and Valbona for Transformers, at the Sheraton movie theater. Sarah, Tracey and Landi (our taxi driver) picked me up. We drove across town to the indoor swimming pool. It was a tough swim, but just what the doctor ordered. Tonight's excitement was Chinese food in the Vanest's living room.

Reading over this post, I realized how this sounds more like a journal entry than a normal post. Oh well. I needed a weekend like this. I needed to start seeing the good in Tirana. Finally, I looked past the crazy traffic, stray dogs, trashy streets and disorderly conduct. Rediscovering home is the ultimate adventure.

Dusty the Dog

I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted so warmly by Drita, the matriarch of the landlord family, when I returned to Albania this past August. For as nice as she is, she always seemed so serious. I watched Drita for three days before realizing, she was pretty much alone. Her family, including her eldest son and his family (Vladimir, technically, is our landlord) and Abdula, our legendary drunk landlord (Drita's husband), were vacationing. She was happy! Friends were stopping by and sitting on the patio, she was walking with a spring in her step; I even heard her singing as she was cooking. Only days later, the entire family descended on our happy Utopian apartment building. Peace vanished. Not only did we welcome back Abdula, but his 5 screaming grandchildren, and (gulp) a brand new dog.

At first, I was only genuinely annoyed at the new dog's nonstop barking. Then I had a hair-raising experience. Amy and I were coming home late one evening, after a particularly exciting book club (but that's another story) and ended up staring into the eyes of a big black dog. The dog was in our stairwell, just waiting for us. It was a Little House on the Prairie moment. If you know the books, you'll remember Laura and Carrie were out on the icy lake sliding along, only to come face to face with a wolf. Carrie froze, unable to move, but Laura luckily kept her head and saved herself and her younger sister from certain death. Well, at that moment, I was Carrie and Amy was Laura. I froze with one foot on the stair. The dog was baring its teeth and then began barking. Amy pulled me away and hurried us to Abdula's door. She began knocking fiercely. I think I still was stunned. Abdula came to the door and Amy pointed to the dog and said, "Get him!" I think said something like, "He tried to kill us!" Of course, Abdula can only understand gestures and irate facial expressions, but he did get the idea. Slowly he wandered over and grabbed the dog by the collar.

The next day, we quickly made our director aware of the situation. All of the residents of the apartment had complaints. Sarah and Anne were especially disgruntled because the dog liked to hang out below their side of the building and bark while they were planning and grading. I talked to Alma, the daughter in law who speaks English. She was the one who told me the dog's name...Dusty. She also told me that the dog was just a puppy and it wouldn't hurt anyone. Ha. Abdula tried to convince me on many occasions that all I had to do was pat my leg and say, "Dusty" in a sugary sweet voice and he would let me pass. All the while, I was afraid to go home by myself at night. Dusty wouldn't lunge at Sarah (she's the dog whisperer), but it often snapped at me, Amy and even Tracey.

Meanwhile, the barking and the territorial advances continued. I talked to Alma a second time. This time Abdula insisted on butting in. He began speaking Albanian and pointing at me. Foolishly I asked, "Alma, what is he saying." She looked me straight in the eye and said, "He says that you just need to bring a piece of bread with you and feed it to him when you get home at night." I started furiously laughing. "You have got to be kidding me! So I'm suppose to walk around Tirana with a slice of bread in my back pocket?" I left without another word.

The next confrontation (I mean conversation) about the dog occurred with Natasha, the daughter. Four of us ganged up on her and told her of our displeasure. Natasha reiterated the family line, "Dusty is a good dog. He won't hurt you." She told us that they bought Dusty for our protection. (Yes, I laughed furiously again). The real issue is that our apartment building is on illegal ground and they feel like they have to "defend" it.

Last weekend, Tracey, Anne and I were coming back from dinner. Dusty was there, of course, barking his head off. I decided to use sarcasm. "Dusty! Who's a good boy, oh yes, you are a good dog. Oh yes you are!" Dogs don't get sarcasm, but it was a good coping mechanism. Unfortunately I think Abdula took it as my final acceptance of Dusty.

Two nights ago Dusty barked from 9:00 pm until 11:00 pm and then from 4:30 am to 6:20 am. Our director had a line of angry sleep deprived teachers outside his door. I was close to tears. He assured us that the dog was going to be gone.

Well, two nights ago, I was walking home from the Film Festival. Thank God I was with a parent from the school. This parent has to walk through our property to get to her house. She usually takes a road and a car when coming home late at night, so I quickly filled her in on the Dusty situation. I said that hopefully, the dog was gone, but be on guard. Sure enough, Dusty began barking. I decided to walk my friend to the gate so she wouldn't have to face Dusty alone. As we were walking by, Dusty came behind me. If I hadn't turned around when I did, I doubt I would be in Tirana typing this post. He was poised to bite. Abdula nonchalantly walked out of the house about that time, Amy came flying to her window, and Tracey to her door. I started yelling at Abdula. "Get him! Now!!!!!!" I've never been angrier at another human, not to mention a stupid dog.

Friday night, it was official. "Ding dong the dog is gone." Unfortunately, our good fortune sent Abdula on a drinking binge. He really liked that crazy mutt. On the flip side, Amy and I walked up our stairs last night without fearing for our lives and I had a wonderful uninterrupted sleep. Sorry Dusty. Teacher victory.

Albania and the North

Practically from the moment we first met, Entela has been saying, "We have to go to Thethi." Finally, after a year, we went to Thethi. Breathtaking.

Thethi is a small settlement, I hesitate even using the word village, set back in the northern mountains of Albania. We arrived Friday night, only able to see the guest house in front of us and the dramatic shining stars. Roza, the patroness of the guest house we stayed in, had mountain tea with mountain honey, a hot soup and fresh bread ready for us once we settled in. Moments after we arrived our friend Gjergj and his girl friend showed up! Albania=small. They ended up staying in a guest house up the road, but came back for a visit the following night.

Now for the slightly embarrassing, and not so fun part of the trip. I woke up extremely early feeling very sick. I hoped that it was just from the zig-zagging roads the night before. Nope. It was the stomach flu. After an hour, nothing was left in my body. Roza heard me and got me a lime soda. She's an angel. I hopped into the shower and then back into bed. Three hours later, I was well enough to drink some tea and eat a biscuit. I probably wasn't well enough to go on a hike, but I don't like to miss out on things. It's one of my tragic flaws.

It did feel great being outside in the cool, clean mountain air. We walked by the little red school house. A teacher from Shkoder comes to teach there, when she feels like it. Children up to eighth grade go there, when they feel like it. Our guide, Juette, told us that the roads are so blocked in the winter, that most of the people in Thethi move to Shkoder or simply stay inside. It made me think of the pioneer life.
After about 45 minutes of hiking, I couldn't go on. Utter exhaustion had set in. I found a rock, close to a mountain home. Juetta and Entela both offered to knock on the door to see if I could stay inside, but I wanted to stay outside. Tracey loaned me her pocket notebook and a pen so I was quite content (although I was feeling a bit sorry for myself).
This picture, I took after sketching the scene to the best of my abilities (which are not good). I thought the tree roots were so interesting, and I loved the fence in the background. Besides sketching, I attempted poetry. One poem was a reflection on solitude, the other was a conversation between a river and ocean and the last was to simply poke fun at myself (Tracey gave me the opening line). To truly appreciate this poem, I suppose you might need some background information. When speaking of Thethi, we tend to lisp.:
"I once took a trip to Thethi
I'm afraid that it got quite methy.
My friends said, 'Wait here,'
I did so with cheer
But sat thinking, "Boy, I'm a thithy."

While waiting for my friends to return, I had visitors. The man who owned the house was out working and spoke a little English. He told his 13 year old nephew that there was an American out on the road. The boy came over for a chat. His English was quite good. He told me that he lives and studies in Shkoder and he's working on English so he can join his uncle in London. Like many Albanian youngsters, he loves football and is in training. I saw him the next day too and then found out his name, Mikel. Once Mikel was called back to work, two hikers from the Czech Republic happened by. They were friendly, but were trying to get to Valbona before nightfall. With eight more hours of hiking, they were on a tight schedule. I really wanted them to stay longer because I'm currently on a Prague kick and wanted to hear all about the city from two good looking men. (Who can blame me?)
We finally returned to the guest house to be greeted by a German, Gerald, and Tracey's Spanish friend from soccer (ok, I'm trying to be good... I mean football), Lande. We relaxed under plum trees in the front yard enjoying tea and coffee. I don't remember who said it, but it was a moment of paradise on earth.
We set out on an afternoon hike to the "Northern Blue Eye." Juette assured us that it was a flat, easy hike. (She just didn't mention how long it would be.) We actually found a map of the area! The German NGOs are trying to promote tourism in Thethi.
It started to rain about 40 minutes into the hike. We were pretty well equipped to handle it, so we pressed on. This was standing on a bridge over the river and gorge. Sarah didn't trust the bridge with all of us on it (she's a wise soul), but still managed to look adorable in the picture!
It's a fuzzy, rainy picture, but you can see the drop to the river.
The Northern Blue Eye obviously gets its name from the crystal clear water. It was worth the nearly 3 hour walk.
There was one waterfall that cascaded down into the Blue Eye pool. If you look closely, it's rather like three waterfalls in one.

I won't say much about the walk back, except that we had to hike out of the canyon at a break-neck speed, because our guide was calling us slow and we were racing the sun. That triggered a very grumpy reaction, particularly from me. Thank goodness that about an hour and a half into the walk home, a VW van came. Before Tracey could say, "Please give us a ride," the driver had offered us one straight to Roza's. (Apparently, everyone knows Roza).
Once back at Roza's, we gathered around the fire that Roza's younger brother, Alfred, made for us in Entela and my room. We also whipped out the wine that we had brought with us. Roza fed us, by then I was actually hungry, a yummy bean soup, the homemade bread, roast beef and the best grilled vegetables.
The next morning brought a new day, thankfully! I was in a much better mood after a semi good night's sleep. The morning was beautiful and we prepared for a hike to another waterfall.
The northerners, at least in Thethi, are often Catholic. I don't believe that they are a practicing group of Catholics. Even though it was Sunday, the church was completely vacant and locked up. It's not the original church (the original was destroyed, I'm assuming during Communism), but the German NGO built this one to blend into the surrounding old stone buildings.
We walked through corn fields and wheat fields. I was fascinated by this squash that seemed to have grown up to the fence. The locals were incredibly friendly and each invited us to their house for coffee. Sadly, time wouldn't permit those visits. I'm really surprised that the farmers were not angry at the group of foreigners crossing through their fields.
We stopped to take a look inside the Blood Feud Tower. It's one of the few left in Albania. Work is underway to turn this into an ethnographic museum. The tower was three stories high; the top most room used for sleeping, the middle for living, and the lowest for food storage. There were small windows and slight openings for weapons. Males, from the families involved with blood feuds, would retreat to these towers (or stay inside their own homes) until peace was negotiated with the offended family (usually the offend family had had a family member killed by the other). Very Romeo and Juliette, if you ask me! (Actually, there is a blood feud house in Tirana, on the banks of the Lana River).
Entela lead us up to this part of the waterfall, since she knew the trail. We scrambled over rocks and across mountains streams. It was so peaceful and ravishingly beautiful. The four of us girls recreated our ice skating poses for a picture worthy moment.
Here we are posing with our newest friend, Lande.

We took the higher trail and shortcut, back to Roza's. Tracey started singing Sound of Music, which is always the perfect song for mountain hiking, so of course I joined in. There was a laughing brook that did in fact, trip and fall over stones on its way. Then the laughing brook gave way to a silent stream and eventually the stream led us back to the river.
Juette told us that this was once used as an old mill. I think it looks like the Seven Dwarfs' house, personally.
We stopped to gather fresh, late summer black berries from along side the trail. Boy, they were tasty! I didn't attempt to pick berries the day before, so I was extremely glad to be feeling well and partake of nature's bounty.
And this is our guest house, which greeted us after the morning hike. We packed up, changed, said our fond farewells to Roza (who was headed back to Shkoder for her weekly job at the castle) and walked to the local "bar."
The bar is actually a collection of tables in little huts. We had an outdoor table under a beautiful shady tree. I had a Coke, though I could have had some raki. Ick. The picture below shows the ingeniously traditional method of refrigeration. That mountain water is cold, cold, cold!

We made it back to Tirana after a nearly six hour trip. But, it was worth the trip and, indeed, I would tell anyone, "You have to go to Thethi!"

The River That Became a Lake

Once upon a time eight friends loaded up in two vehicles and drove an hour and a half northeast of their home. One SUV took the modern road through the airport, the other through the outskirts of Tirana where they saw daily Saturday life in action. The two met again on the road to Shkodra and turned east. On and on they drove on a nice paved road, past new bridges, along a clear river. Nearing the end of the drive, the paved road became a bumpy road that went under blown out tunnels. The eight friends reached their destination knowing they were in for another Albania adventure.

So began our kayaking day on Lake Mati. This lake is part of a river that was dammed and is now used for hydroelectric power. Once again, Tracey organized this outing with Outdoor Albania, the same organization that we used for river rafting. I can't say enough good things about them. They are a very organized organization and had this trip down to a science. Gent, the owner and our guide for the day, had the kayaks off both roofs in a jiffy. We were ready in our spray skirts and life jackets in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Sarah, as seen below, was outfitted in a light weight river kayak, which responded to any movement whatsoever. Gent asked for volunteers to take the two double kayaks. Travis and Amy took one and Violeta and I took the other. Violeta and I found it difficult, at first, navigating our bulky craft, though we quickly became a team. With the wind at our back, we were able to stay in the middle of the group and enjoy the company of our friends.

At one point Violeta and I challenged our friend Florian (not Florian from school, a different Florian) to a race. He graciously gave us a head start and then quickly overtook us. I stupidly challenged him to a rematch for the way back. At that point I didn't realize that we would be head straight into the wind. Needless to say, we lost that race too. Florian had no trouble rubbing it in.
It was a rather windy trip back up the lake. We used all of our strength to stay up with the group. Disaster nearly struck when Violeta and I found ourselves in the middle of a wind tunnel with no way out. We managed to steer ourselves parallel to the wind and get out of it. Travis and Amy were near by, which was comforting to me.

We stopped at a beach for watermelon and to watch the horses and donkeys playing. There were several footbridges high over the water that villagers and their animals use to cross the river (since there are no roads to their homes). Gent said that there are usually a few deaths per winter on bridges like these. Tracey took a picture of a man leading two donkeys across. We were standing open mouthed watching as Gent said, "You might have never seen two donkeys crossing a river, but I can guarantee that that man driving the donkeys has never seen girls in bikinis." It's a different world.

We also stopped at a small, clean cove where we swam to our hearts' content. I've never swam in such clear, warm lake water. I'm still more of an ocean girl, but I really, really enjoyed this lake. Amy said, "You know Holly, no one ever visited Albania before '92. It's like we're seeing an untouched part of the world." Well said. Almost every weekend, we find something new to love about Albania.
We returned to shore and had a fish and pasta lunch surrounded by honking geese and quacking ducks. Tracey and Sarah had the brilliant idea of taking a shot of rakki to ward off any crazy bacteria. That is brutal stuff, but I felt well- cleansed after swallowing only half a shot.

The timing of this trip couldn't have been better. Sunday morning brought thunderstorms and rain and Sunday night an earthquake (I heard that it was 5.4 with the epicenter toward Macedonia). This morning (Monday) we have experienced a step toward the cooler temperatures that autumn brings. Even though summer is waning, I can't wait for the fall!

The Girls are Back in Town!

This was the first full weekend that we have all been back in Tirana. Amy is downstairs, Tracey is upstairs, Sarah's next door, Entela is 10 minutes away and all is right with the world. Unfortunately, there are no pictures to go with this post. I haven't posted since I've been back, so I figured we'll suffer through together.

Friday, we went to a good-bye dinner for one of our Marine friends. It's always fun to go to Amor and eat the yummiest pasta, this side of Italy. The four of us (Tracey, Sarah, Entela and I) dressed up thinking the plan was to go a night club afterward. We ended up at an outdoor bar instead. It was extensively large and the giant trees made it seem that someone had set up a bar in the middle of a forest. One of the reasons I love Tirana is that there are nice surprises and unexpected beauty in the most obscure places (you go back through the movie theater, head left, then back again and then voila! You're there).

Saturday, we hopped in a taxi and went to General's Beach. The water was so warm; I was thrilled to be back. We swam, I read, we ate fruit and salad and ice cream. The day was gone. We drove back and joined Amy and Travis for movie night. They had invited some of our work friends over to watch Airplane, which I laughed through (loudly and obnoxiously).

Today, I accidentally didn't set my alarm for church, but I did enjoy a couple of sermon podcasts. Then I worked, worked, worked. School is going quite well, but I suddenly feel like my work-aholic tendencies are surfacing. Luckily, I have friends who have committed to helping me stay a bit balanced. Maybe since I have a small, but very gifted class, I feel the need to push myself. Maybe I feel more comfortable teaching kindergarten. Maybe I am just sick.

Well, faithful friends and family, I'm back and I'm ready for more fun overseas adventures! I'm alive and well, though it might feel like I've dropped off the face of the earth (again!) By the way, how is everyone feeling about the pink blog? I like pink, but it's taking me some time to get used to it!

Inspiration

What does being an artist mean to you? Is it painting, singing, sculpting, cooking? Or perhaps an artist is a photographer, wood worker, or an author. The definition I always think of is someone who creates something. Basic, yes, but this creativity sets us apart from the apes and the asses. I admire my friends who can see a piece of fabric and use that inspiration to create a one-of-a-kind greeting card (see Michelle's blog) or can look at a piece of chicken and see a gourmet meal (see Andrea's blog).

My parents and I went to see the movie Julie & Julia. As we were exiting the movie theater my father said, "That's the key to longevity, you know. Finding a passion and living it. I'm keeping track. People who live the longest love what they do."

Today, I am recognizing my dad. It's his birthday and hence, here is his birthday post. My father is a salesman, and a gosh darn good one at that. He builds relationships with his clients, not by flashing a salesman's grin, but by living his life with integrity and honesty. I've overheard numerous conversations in which my dad takes responsibility for mistakes and manages to come flying to the rescue, regardless of the mistakes. This is my father by day. The man that the world sees. Does he love his job? Yes. He wouldn't be a Calvinist if he didn't. Is it his passion? Yes and no. His passion is creating. My father is an artist.

Ever since I was a baby, my dad has been building things for me. Every Christmas there was a new and exciting handmade toy under the Christmas tree. These toys ranged from doll houses, doll cradles, rocking horses and trains. As I grew older, the gifts and my father's ability became more and more impressive. He presented me with a magnificent sleigh bed for my sixteenth birthday. I'm always astounded by his ability to take a piece of discarded wood and turn it into a work of art. His latest pet project is a French rolling pin. My mom, my brother and I all have one. It rolls out sugar cookie dough in no time flat. (Yes, I know that is punny!)


Is this a shameless promotion of my father? Yep. My birthday wish for dear, not so old, dad is that he continues growing with his art, that he continues to live his passions. This is the great lesson of his life.