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Travel Stories >> Albania >> July 22 - 26: Welcome to Elbasan, City of Steel…

ALBANIA – Summer 1996
July 22 - 26: Welcome to Elbasan, City of Steel…

Monday, July 22

Up at a decent hour. I really like Mark and Susan, easy going, sweet. It's a pleasure to stay here. Since Gertie has weird old schoolgirl crush on John (who is twenty years her junior) , it's just as well she'll camp out with him. Besides - it suppose as far as protocol goes, since John and I are both single - that might not look so great.

The RBA is a very nice set of 2 large rooms on the first floor of a newly built house. Apparently Mark and Susan will be moving into the upper floors of this very building this coming fall - Mark might miss the pretty walk to work that he currently has in September, but I doubt he'll miss it by the time February rolls around - so it's a good thing. The smaller room we will use for breaks and lunch, and the larger room we set the tables up in a wide "U" so participants can work in pairs or in groups.

It has been cool and rainy here in Elbasan, and everyone comments on this, apparently it is very outside the norm for this time of year. They are really more accustomed to the heat.

The students dribble in and look a little apprehensive but somewhat eager. There are fewer businessmen which means that there will be fewer actual life experiences. Many of these students will likely be trainers so my ToT will be important for them. They answer Gertie's financial questions more adroitly than the Shkodra crowd. This makes me feel a little better about how well they'll do when they’re training.

The class goes very well, is a bit uneventful. I have a nice chat with a fellow named Naim at lunch. They have pretty names. The men are called Gazi, Astrit, one named Kastriot, the women named Elsa, Albana, Lili, Aida, Mariana, etc. Like Kastriot, the Greek influence meets the women as well in names like Ermioni.

The Yes-No thing in Albania takes some getting used to. Yes is "po" which they sort of aspirate like "Pa", and NO is "Yo" which they aspirate like "Ya".... and to further confuse matters, they shake their heads to indicate YES, and nod them to indicate NO (can I tell you how confusing this is?) Actually, I think the Albanians in general sort of have extra sensory muscles in their necks because the shaking and the nodding look like all sorts of things from a tip or a roll. Whew! The people we run into have had a lot of contact with Americans and other Europeans so they tend to do what we do, but it is confusing as hell when you are asking about something in a kiosk or to see if someone does or doesn't like or agree with something you are saying in class.

I do the marketing with them after lunch, and it went very well, although not the same spirit with which the Shkodra crowd jumped on it. After class we all go our separate ways. I work on our final report (which will never be used because Gertie is writing her own for AID, since of course, she knows what AID wants, cough, cough). And I nap and watch a little tv with my hosts. We meet back up again later in the early evening with John and Gertie for a nice meal at a restaurant here called Texas Taberna. Mark and Susan tell us that Elbasan has the fewest and worst restaurants in Albania, and promise us better meals out while we are in Korça next week. Susan, who is an exquisite cook, really bemoans the lack of food in town. Apparently it runs to the slab of greasy fried meat, and french fries. Boy, are the Albanians gonna love McDonalds when it gets here (and sadly, you know it will). At least in the summertime there are also tomatoes, cukes, and other veggies. It's not such an immediate big deal because I'll eat almost anything, but I can also go home to my Thai, Ethiopian, Mexican, Cajun, whatever food in a couple of weeks. I'd also get pretty sick of fried beef, pasta, and pizzas if I were these three. We have a jolly time, and roll home happy.

ELBASAN - Tuesday, July 23, 1996

It is an absolutely blue sky day - gorgeous. Mark and I have our usual beautiful walk to the office through the old section of town. Elbasan is pretty like Shkodra was, the whitewashed stone walls, the red tiled roofs, and the grape vines, heavy with grapes, are everywhere, and beautifully overhang the walls. Most people walk, and we occasionally have to step aside to let a horse and cart rumble by.

Mark is patient with me while I take pictures occasionally, and we enter the old church at one point. As usual, the Albanian men ask if we speak Italian (Susan says they do this, even though they, the Americans, speak Albanian very well. Apparently the Albanians think that if you are foreign, there must logically be some other language you'd rather be speaking), and we sort of struggle through between my Spanish and his Italian.

Class goes well today, and we have our usual fun in advertising. This group decides they will be a paper factory (AGAZA Paper - Aida, Gazi, and Anila), another says they'll produce fashion sunglasses AHATA" glasses - which means a version of "cool" in Albanian, we also have a computer training center and a beer processing company. Like in Shkodra, there is much creativity, and much silliness.

After class I hurried home with Susan (who comes in and sits with us in the afternoons) and the two of us hop into her favorite taxi and he drove us about 20 minutes outside of Elbasan to take pictures in the mountains. The mountains and valleys are very impressive and we both wanted pictures. I simply cannot disturb Gertie on our real trips to stop and let me take pictures, so this seemed like a good solution. I took a whole roll, and even though many may not come out (landscapes are hard to capture), it was worth the trip. Not only are the landscapes wild, but were see a lot of neat little other things. I shot the huge steel factory in the valley outside of Elbasan that the Chinese built in 1974 (now mostly unused). I also captured the large communist murals that decorate the walls on the hillside along the road entering Elbasan.

We saw men selling fresh eggs (and our driver stopped at one point and bought some), and an old mother and her daughter, the younger one learning to spin wool. We saw young boys and old men watching herds of sheep under the olive trees on these steep inclines. There were men and women along the roadsides selling fresh-pressed olive oil (Susan says it's just great stuff!), fresh picked peaches, and limes. It was a delightful drive regardless of whether or not I end up with any good pictures.

We finish our little excursion and head home to change and head off to John's for dinner. What a feast! We have a ball - it's a participatory meal... Gertie and John cut up the veggies, start the lentil soup, marinade the chicken. I finish the lentils when I arrive (and help with the chicken and onion and pepper saute - but other than that - don't much participate!), Susan has made a fantastic chocolate cream pie, John made cornbread with jalapeños, Deborah (local Peace Corp, former banker from the Philly area) made the flour tortillas. So we eat and drink wine and laugh and talk and eat, and eat and eat... Dimitri, one of our translators, came by for the visit - but had a stomach bug and did not eat, and Mark came by on his way home from Tirana where he'd spent the afternoon. We headed home tired, fed, and happy. Once at home, we discovered that there was no electricity - the block's not out, just the house. No matter, we light a couple of candles and head to bed.

ELBASAN - Wednesday, July 24, 1996

Well, we still don't have electricity, but it really doesn't matter, it is a beautiful day, as they all seem to be. Michael and I have our usual pleasant walk to work. I'm sure that the winter here is pretty grim, when all the grape vines are leaf-less, and everything else looks sort of dead and cold, but right now it is just so nice to walk through this shaded, green little town. The inhabitants, at least those to whom we've spoken, grimace whenever I say I think Elbasan is a pretty town. They all sort of think I'm a little crazy anyway, but this sort of confirms it for them!

Elbasan is on the Shkumbin River, and is most famous for the enormous ASteel of the Party" Steel mill that the Chinese built just outside of town in 1974 (which I got a picture of yesterday). It has about 85,000 inhabitants, and is probably, like my students say, not the prettiest city in Albania by a long shot.

Class went pretty much to schedule, and I think our students are getting closer to being trainers. During one of the breaks, I took out my calligraphy pen and filled in the names on the certificates.

Naim Çope
Mariana Gogo
Anila Grykshi
Gazmend Isaj
Kastriot Laloshi
Gazmir Maksuti
Brizida Milo
Gezím Nastimi
Dimitri Papamihale
Ermioni Qorri
Aida Stringa
Astrit Veizi

We gave a little speech, and handed them out after class, and everyone seemed very pleased. It was a particularly nice group, although I must say that I will be forever in love with the gang we had in Shkodra. Maybe it's sort of like that first love affair - you kind of hold the rest up to it in comparison. After class, we spent a considerable amount of time with our to-be trainers, and while Gertie worked with the three who would be giving Cash Flow, I worked with those who would be giving Marketing. We set up a timing schedule, we worked on each section of the module to get it just right. I am working with Anila, Mariana, and Naim... all of whom I find to be really bright, and somewhat reserved... it will be interesting to see how they do in front of their audience.

The folks who work at this RBA are a fun bunch. Gazmend (Gazi) Isaj is just a solid, funny, smart young man. He is just back from a month long trip to the USA where he was hosted by my old, dear friend, Sandy out in Oregon. Gazi really has the potential to be a very successful RBA Manager, and I think that working with Mark has been the best thing that's ever happened to him. It is tough for the Albanians to work with fellow Albanians, especially being young. Gazi has to command respect, while at the same time be flexible, and he really has accomplished this. His two sidekicks, so to speak, are Mariana Gogo (doncha love it?), and Altin Pupuleku. She is young, beautiful, and once she comes into her own a little more, will really be a fine business assistant. She is still a little too reserved and unassertive, but she does provide the RBA with a solid level of support. They need someone like her, so she fits in well. Altin is a wild, young, funny guy. He looks a little like Alfred E. Newman (what, me worry?), and Gertie describes his looks as sort of James Deanish combined with the young heartthrob punks of the early 70s when thin (lanky) with scruffy hair and beard was "in". He drives like a maniac, and listens to everything on his tape player from Enya to Soundgarden and loves it all.

They are all so young for their positions - Gazi is probably 36, Mariana is about 23, and Altin is about 26. We are discovering this everywhere, the young have spent just enough time out from under the dictatorship so that they can more easily envision a new world. They have the energy and the gumption to really make things change. They are the ones who regale us with tales of the dictatorship's outrages, "Can you believe that facial hair on men was illegal?" Altin tells us, "They used to beat up any man they found with a beard or moustache, and take his picture beaten, post it all over town as a 'bad example'". They are free with their words, and just as free with their disgust about how things used to be.

After our hard sessions prepping everyone for the training tomorrow morning, we head home. Gazi stops me and says, "come on, tonight we should have that beer that I promised Sandy I would have with you!" Then he said, "Actually, I don't need Sandy as an excuse, I want to go out and have a beer anyway!" I have a delightful dinner with Mark and Susan of curry pasta and vegetables which will probably ooze out of my pores for the next three days, whew - I love it!. After dinner, Gazi and Altin swing by the house in the one project vehicle (a red Nissan van/truck thing which seats three up front, and numerous on the benches in the back), and we gather up Gertie, and drive to one only privately owned hotel in town. We go up to the terrace on the second floor, with a nice view of the town, sit down and have a cold beer. We are joined by Naim, Mariana, and her fiancé, Astrit (who runs a computer training business with the RBA) who was also in class this week with us. It is a jolly group, and we chat and laugh into the evening. We joke with Mariana and Astrit about their wedding (that has to take place before next June so all can attend!), their honeymoon, and their children (whom they must name Bruto, and Neto, the words with Fitimi which mean Gross and Net Profit)...

They tell us, amid the laughter, that this is the famous hotel. It seems that some time ago when Mark was discussing with the hotel owner about different rates (because they use this hotel when they have conferences, or people in from out of town), and he asked whether it would be available to rent out for three or four days or even a week. When the guy hesitated a little, Mark asked if it got full during the week, and the guys stammered, "well, you know, we get those people who stop by to, you know, express their love." That was it, we rolled on that one, I thought I was going to cry. "Express your love". It is now and will forever be referred to as the express-your-love hotel. What a scream!

As usual, it is Gertie who decides when she's had enough, gets up, and announces she's ready. We all follow suit, and make our way out to the car (which, by the way, is the Albanian word for "penis", so we've all taken to calling it the machine, or the vehicle). Mark and Susan happen to see a scrawny little tabby kitten, and pick the thing up. It looks starved, and is absolutely bathed in fleas. The owner of the hotel (or at least the manager) urges them to, "Take it, take it, it will die without you". So Susan wraps it in her oxford shirt and does! We get home, and they scrub this damn thing in the sink, and patiently pick all the fleas off of it. You just have to be an animal-lover to do this! It really does look super underfed, and is just the ugliest thing I've ever seen. I know, however, that if it has a chance, it REALLY has a chance with these two. It's feisty, peppy, and cries, all good signs. It is malnourished, with the distended belly, the ears aren't cat ears they are bat ears, it's terribly bow-legged, particularly from behind, they have named it "Critter", and this is perfect, because we can't figure out what the gender is, or whether it really is a cat!

ELBASAN - Thursday, July 25, 1996

We are up and out on the early side since our special trainers are waiting for us to give their first training. They are all there when we arrive at the office, and are eager and apprehensive about getting started. The businessmen arrive late (what else is new - this really is a Mediterranean country - manana is the reality), and the marketers get started. Anila is too quiet, but muddles through, Mariana is forced to confront a hollering match between two of the men regarding customer service - but she manages to regain control of her session and does fine, all things considered. Naim is very good, he manages his time well, and manages the materials and the participants well also. I pay less attention to the Cash Flow folks, in part because they are Gertie's wards, and Gazmir can really only whisper his translations to one of us at a time. I spend that second hour writing notes back and forth with John, and trying hard not to bust a gut laughing at some of the stuff we are exchanging.

After they are all finished, we talk a little about what they did right, and where they might improve, and as they get to the end of this little evaluation session, Mark and Gazi pull out three cold bottles of champagne to congratulate them! It is another jolly moment, and we take a couple of really cute group pictures that I hope will turn out. We say our goodbyes and good lucks and are off.

That afternoon, it is a luxury to take a nap, finish reading The Perfume, and have the house to myself for a couple of hours as Susan and Mark go out to shop, and also to play hockey! Gotta love those Philadelphians! I really, really like these two people! That night we eat in, and get ready for our last day in Elbasan. Tomorrow Susan and Mark will take off for Korça in the early morning. I will lock up the house. Gertie and I have planned to come out to Korça later since we are going to see a couple of local businesses in the morning. Before getting to bed, we sit and watch the Olympics. We've been doing that almost every night. It is kind of neat to get the EuroSport Channel perspective, not so focussed on the Americans at every turn. We see the best and the brightest regardless of the country, which is really a nice change of pace! These sportscasters are very good, too. They know the medal and performance histories of all the different athletes in all the different sports from all the different countries. I am really glad I am not watching two yahoos from NBC gloat over how many medals "ahead" of the Russians we are!

ELBASAN/TIRANA - Friday, July 26, 1996

It was so lonely at the house this morning. No Mark, no Susan, no Miro (the dog), no Critter. I felt so alone - missing all my pals! I pulled in the last of the wash that was now dry, and spent some time ironing the dresses and pantsuits I would then pack to take to Korça. I was finished packing and ready when Altin picked me up at 9:10 to head off to visit a couple of areas businesses. We gathered Gertie, and stopped by the RBA to pick up Patty (a new Peace Corp volunteer from, of all places, Montana!), and Gazi (there are TWO Gazis. One is the RBA Gazi (Gazmend), and the other is John's assistant and translator, Gazmir). Gazmir came with us and did a lot of the translating, I really wish he was going to come with us to Korça with us because I find his English to be MUCH better than Dimitri's, and because he has a real sense of humor - catches everything, while Dimitri (who is very nice) misses a lot!

Anyway, we pack into the red Nissan van/truck, and head off to a local Qilim (Chilim) factory. Kilim (like in Morocco) seems to be a sort of universal term for flat weave woven rugs in many countries. I'm not sure what the base is, but it is the same here. The woven AND hooked rugs here in Albania are really beautiful. It's funny because when I first saw them I wasn't moved, but the more I've seen them in a lot of places, the more I've come to really appreciate the value of the hand-woven rugs, in addition to the fantastic styles, and colors. We went upstairs into this one room in an otherwise huge vacant factory where there were six enormous looms, four working with two women to each loom. They were such primitive structures that these poor women didn't even have shuttlecocks! They were producing some beautiful pieces, and we had quite a chat (via translation) with the fellow who owned the place. It is really, really frustrating talking to folks like this. They are just a step or two away from rejuvenating their businesses, and they are starved for a market into which they can place their products. However, the big thing they are missing is any market sense, and there are a couple of things that Mark says they just can't seem to learn.... they have spent their lives being managed, not managing, and as a consequence they have this strange sort of hole in their logical thought processes about the most bizarre things.

In the money exchange place in Tirana around the corner from the hotel, there is a sign, in poor English, which is actually a list of "Ways to Save Time". And some of them are a riot, like, "Place large clock to see it", and, "Have secretary make copies", but scarily, of about 30 things listed some 20 were so basic and obvious, that no American would have thought of them. Both Mark and Gary bemoan the fact that Albanians are incapable of taking a phone message. They will tell you someone called, but they never find out who it is, what they wanted, or if they'll call back. I asked if it had to do with the fact that phones are a relatively new phenomena, and phone etiquette really hasn't evolved to that point, or perhaps that is considered rude to involve ones self in someone else's business. No, they tell me that these people will tell you that they are "too busy" to take a message. This has been a real problem in the RBAs, where the whole point is that they are there to assist businesses, and if you can't teach a business the value of taking a simple phone message (from, say, a potential client!), then how on earth can they be working on fundamental business management skills!!! It's a crazy place!

So after we wandered and wondered through this place, we were escorted downstairs to a little cramped room, full of rugs of every size. Beautiful pieces. Gertie and John and I went sort of nuts. I bought some really pretty things for lots of folks, including a runner for the front hall at my parent’s house. I also picked up a nice one for, I hope, my kitchen. I understand that we'll visit another Quilim place in Korça, but these were too good to pass up!

After dropping a wad of cash, and taking care of about half my "get-gifts-for" list, we pack into the van/truck and are off to the ferrochromium plant across the other side of town. Gazmend has to return to the RBA for business, so Altin is our driver again. Altin drives like a madman. Half the country does. Except for those few men who were drivers for the big party officials, or who were truck drivers (hauling goods all over the country), the driving situation is a disaster on the verge of happening. Remember, five years ago there were NO privately owned cars. Today, as I mentioned earlier, they are 95% stolen, but worse, because there seems to be no formal system, there are no apparent licenses, no road signs, no road etiquette, no rules. It is truly scary. Never mind that the roads are in pretty horrible condition in the first place, add hundreds of brand new drivers in their stolen Mercedes, mix >em up with the horse and carts, the thousands of bicycles, and the pedestrians, and zap-o, one big national road accident just waiting to happen.

So Altin is driving like an imbecile, we are in the back of this machine feeling like we will all end up either bruised from careening off the walls, or nauseous from the blender effect, and yelling at him to cool it, and suddenly he HITS A BICYCLIST! Ok, this is the best part (not)... The biker, who was already in the ditch on the side of the road with nowhere else to go, is ok, but shaken, and Altin did some damage to the back of the guy's bike. Altin has the nerve to go start yelling at the guy to come look at the damage the guy did to the vehicle!!!!!! It is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. We are all disgusted, including Gazmir (had Gazmend been along this NEVER would have happened). As Altin starts in on this poor man, John cannot take it any more, and jumps out of the van to holler at Altin. We are all a little whacked out, and since no own is hurt, we sort of get back in the thing, and leave the scene.

John tells stories about traveling in taxi vans, coming around a sharp curve, and plowing through herds of sheep or goats, and offing a couple in the process. Deborah and her boyfriend were in a taxi-Mercedes when it passed badly, was forced back into its own lane by on-coming traffic, clipped the vehicle it was trying to pass, and overturned!! These stories abound. Already no one will travel at night because it is just out of hand. Lord, all they need is for the rural Albanians to start thinking like the rural Moroccans (who don't turn on their headlights at night because they don't want to waste their batteries), and whoa, buddy, some really bad shit on the roadways!

We arrive at the ferrochromium plant, and while there are no funky rugs (or trinkets) to buy, it is still pretty wild. I got some great pictures of the slag being poured off. The very nice man who is managing this plant gave us a long explanatory tour. I absolutely marvel at what a plant like this was in its heyday. It is in just awful shape now, but like the medieval tapestries one finds in old European churches, ratty and faded... you can still imagine what glory they were when new. John says it makes him think it'd be a great place to film an Arnold Schwartzeneger pic! He also says whenever he walks through a place like this he gets all hepped up about manufacturing. "You know what I really want to do with my life? I want to be a great steel magnate", he exclaims, "yeah, that's it!" I wish him good luck in his dreams.

Our friend gave us a couple of pieces of chromium rock, and so my father will now need no other gift from this former communist state. Neat stuff, too. We head back to Elbasan since we need to be at USAID at 4pm in Tirana that same afternoon. After saying goodbye to John quickly (we'll see him again in Korça), we are off with his favorite taxi man to Tirana. We have another chance at this sweet ride between the two cities... short, and just one beautiful, majestic mountain view after another. Shame that photos cannot capture this stuff.

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