Easter and Other Things

So this past Sunday Alex and I from my group went to Easter mass at the Catholic church in our town. It was definitely a funny experience—one, because I’m not Catholic and two, because I could understand about .10% of what was being said in Albanian. There was surprisingly a lot of singing in the more “contemporary” sense…with 2 guitars and 3 people singing. I was also surprised at how many people ended up being present at the service since there isn’t really a large Catholic population in the country (and I wasn’t sure how many in our village). At first we showed up an hour early because we were told the wrong time (not sure of that was our language mistake, or someone else’s). Then during the service they kept calling out page numbers for the songs to sing and we had to be told by the 7 year old beside us what to sing. And then at one point during reciting one of the responses in Shqip, I just couldn’t control myself from laughing because Alex and I were reading so slow that we got in about every other word. At some point I’ll have to post something in Albanian so you all can see how crazy it looks (and maybe try to imagine how it sounds).

We made it through the service intact and were invited to stay for refreshments after…which included pretty fabulous cake. Naturally, we became the center of attention for about 20 school children that targeted us for their minimal use of English. They kept fighting for spaces to sit beside us and tell us their names and then dragged us into the church garden to show us around. Additionally, like most Albanian gatherings, the evening ended in dancing, a la traditional Albanian circle style. It was slightly sad to realize that about 90% of the people there were all women and children…a few boys in sight, but not very many fathers. I think we’re going to try and go every week so I’ll see how different it will be on a normal Sunday. Though I might also try to check out Orthodox Easter this Sunday somewhere in Elbasan just to see the difference….and there are some really cool churches in the area.

In other notes about everyday life here…I do have to mention the public transportation here. Sometimes when we go into Elbasan we can catch a bus from our village that takes a while but at least helps me feel pretty safe and secure. However, most of the time we catch a furgon which never runs on a set schedule, is similar to a van circa 1973, and whenever you are hopping into it, it’s kind of like being shoved into the back of a van to be kidnapped by sketchy mustachioed men. Furgon drivers also enjoy playing an endless game of chicken with everyone else on the road—between swerving to miss potholes, pedestrians, bikers, motorcyclists, and other crazy furgon drivers (without falling into the 5 foot ditches on both sides of the road)…I think my prayer life has increased just by nature of praying for my life every time I go into the city. Oh…and of course, no seatbelts are ever worn and it’s not a guarantee that the driver hasn’t been drinking a few rakis before starting work that day. I seriously came into about 3 inches of my life at least 4 times the other day going into the city. But no worries…I have seen surprisingly few accidents since being here (by odds of I’m not sure what).

In a final note, my host dad finally returned from Greece on Easter Sunday. He’s a great guy (from what I can understand of what he says…but more so from what I can judge of his character)…which I was slightly nervous about due to certain gender roles in Albania. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this (and disclaimer: this is a HUGE generalization) but men here do tend to work slightly less than the women and then expect to be waited on all the time. Of course, it all kind of depends on what profession you are in (like my host dad who works ridiculously hard in Greece and then returns to Albania rarely to spend time with family). But most of the time you only see men out at cafes during the day typically for a few hours at a time (and men are the ONLY ones out after nightfall), and you’ll see women working in the yard or kitchen all day and old grandmothers hauling wood in sacks or bales of hay on their heads as men sip espressos and raki (local alcohol of choice) at the cafes. But seeing my host dad interact with my mom and sister Eliza makes me happy that he is a caring father and husband…and he and Eliza are hilarious together!