Sue’s Albanian Christmas

from Sue Davidson

Happy New Year to all of our friends and supporters!

As many of you know, I could not leave Albania until my resident’s permit was issued, which actually happened the week before Christmas. Julian wasn’t able to come until he sorted out some important details, so this was always going to be a strange holiday season.

A couple of weeks before Christmas a large tree was erected in the middle of Sheshi Skanderbeut, the main square in Tirana. This, I was told, was the New Year Tree. (Christmas was not allowed to be celebrated during the years of the Communist regime, so the tradition has become more secular.) Of course health and safety was completely ignored as men climbed up the scaffolding wearing only tee-shirts and jeans. Not a hard hat or safety harness in sight. The square looked really lovely with lights sparkling in all the trees. It did occur to me this was a bit extravagant in a country that is always short of electric power. A few veteran ex-pats thought we’d have restricted electricity in January because of this, but as Albanians often say with a shrug, ‘What can we do?’

On Sunday 23rd we went to a Christmas fair which was very interesting, with people from all over Albania coming to sell their crafts. It was warm and sunny and there were outside cafes selling mulled wine and other delicacies. All was going well until we turned the corner – and there we saw lots of turkeys waiting to be purchased, not for Christmas but for New Year.. The only problem was, they were still alive. There was a man on hand there to wring their necks once they were purchased, but without going into too much detail, it was messy and smelly. Some friends had invited me to join them for Christmas lunch at an American restaurant, and I was quite glad that turkey wasn’t on the menu!

Christmas day dawned, bright, sunny and eighteen degrees, not at all like Christmas weather. It was so strange to see people going to work and the shops open – very much business as usual. We went to church and it was Christmas. We came out into the street and it was a normal day. Then in the restaurant it was Christmas again and we had a good time together. Travelling home, we were back in normal rush hour traffic. The next day it was as if nothing special had happened.

New Year, on the other hand, was totally different. There was an air of excitement as local housewives had rugs and curtains scrubbed and hanging out on balconies to dry. Fireworks were to be heard every day all over the city, and Julian could even hear their crackling and banging while we spoke on Skype. They were pretty powerful fireworks and it really scared me to see children holding them in their hands as they lit them. Apparently every year this results in many accidents but they are still available anywhere and sold to anyone.

I spent New Year’s Eve with Vali’s family and they had a special meal. It seemed more like everyday food to me but a special event for them. As the end of the year approached, the sound of fireworks grew louder and more frequent and the smell of gunpowder permeated the air. It was not necessary to look at a clock or the television to know when it was midnight. The sky was alight with cascades of colour and there was a cacophony of sound. From our balcony we could see the display of impressive fireworks from the centre of Tirana. I have to say it completely superseded any displays I’ve seen in Britain and it went on for half an hour.

All this celebration in a country so poor that it can’t fulfil its social responsibilities! In December, Vali and many of her friends with disabilities did not receive their monthly government payment. It isn’t much but families depend upon it. When Vali’s father went to find out what the problem was he returned saying in his accented English, ‘They have no manny’ – an all-too-common phrase. Now Vali and the others just have to wait and see if they receive their payment in January and are powerless to do anything about it. Is Britain really so bad?

As far as the Valdete Trust is concerned, we’re now meeting with people we want to have as board members. The next step is for everyone concerned to go to a lawyer’s office and register as an organisation. There are quite a few formalities to go through. Meanwhile, we’re visiting social services and talking to the Bashkia (local council). I’m told that it’s good to foster relationships as it helps to cut through the bureaucracy.

Julian is arriving on the 29th of this month and I have plenty of practical jobs to keep him busy. In spite of all the problems, I’m loving life here and just have to learn to shrug and say, ‘That’s how it is in Albania!’