Longing for Albania...

A few days ago after looking at a tropical rain storm from my window in Bamako, I turn on the television and start to listen to Euronews in English and suddenly there was a very comforting, homey feeling pouring over me. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was because of the language that I was hearing. I was listening to an interview in Albanian about Kosovo.

The past 20 years or so, I lived in a few countries and when people asked me where my actual home was, I was always telling "Where my furniture and my cats are" but now I realize that there are places like Albania, where the feeling "home" became so strong that leaving it behind after 4 years was like being detached from the roots.

So, what makes some places so special? Is it the geographical location, the climate, the quality of the services... ? In Albania, it is definitely the people. Being in Bamako for 1 week now, what I miss the most from Tirana is the people and the friends that I left behind.

Image via Wikipedia

I find that quoting Ismail Kadare, an Albanian writer, is very suitable for my longing...

"I long to stroll through the streets of Tiranë in the evening,
Where I used to get into mischief,
And through the streets where I never got into mischief.
Those old wooden doorways know me,
They will still hold a grudge against me
And will snub their noses at me,
But I won't mind
Because I am filled with longing.
I long to stroll through the lanes full of dry leaves,
Dry leaves, autumn leaves,
For which comparisons can so easily be found.

I was filled with longing for Albania,
For that great, wide and deep sky,
For the azure course of the Adriatic waves,
For clouds at sunset ablaze like castles,
For the Albanian Alps with their white hair and green beards,
For the nylon nights fluttering in the breeze,
For the mists, like red Indians, on the prowl at dawn,
For the locomotives and the horses
That huff and puff, dripping in sweat,
For the cypresses, the herds and graves
I was filled with longing.
I was filled with longing
For the Albanians.

I was filled with longing and swiftly journey there,
Flying over the mists, as over desires.
How far and how beloved you are, my country.
The airport will tremble with the droning,
The mists will hang in suspense over the chasms.
Surely those who invented the jet engine
Must have been far from their country once."

And to make my point even stronger, I'm adding my farewell letter to Albania as well :-))

"Farwell to a country, that made me cry twice!

Mesi Bridge, Shkodra

Looking back to my first reaction about moving to Albania (“Me? – In Albania?! – Never!”) is almost a miracle, that it turned out to be the best time of my life.

Sadly, the only one reputation that Albania has outside of Albania is a lousy reputation, so when I first heard that I would have to live in Tirana for at least four years I almost had a “heart attack”. The shock was really bad especially when I was expecting to go to Argentina instead. J

Now, the only one thing that I would like is … staying a while longer in this surprisingly authentic and unique country. Albania brings up very strong feelings in outsiders I noticed, or they fall in love with it or they will hate every single day that they spend in it. And most of the foreigners that had really the chance to sense Albania will cry twice; first when they arrive and the second time when they have to leave it behind. I’m one of the second group.

What do I like about Albania? I could cast up many things like; fantastic weather, rich and gripping history, surprisingly good kitchen and the nature is breathtaking but personally I think that the Albanians themselves make this country so notable. Albanian people in Albania are genuine, extremely friendly, curious, honest and warm people but also remarkably proud to be Albanian.

In most of the ex-communist countries in Europe (I, myself, am from one of those countries) people are having kind of mixed feelings about ‘outsiders’ and yet the Albanians after the harshest 50 years of communist dictatorship still kept their unique friendliness, trust and curiosity towards foreigners.

Thank you Albania for your hospitality!"

For more photos of Albania go to Flickr.

Prejudice is not a good friend

A Belgian friend who lived in Congo for a long time told me once that not one of her housekeepers in Congo could work with an iron unless it was broken. I thought it was very funny and 1 month ago when I bought a new (quite expensive) iron in Tirana I was still thinking about her remark and wondering if I wouldn’t better buy a cheaper one.  Today I have the answer for that.  Yes, I should have!

To describe my frustration this morning I will have to start from 3 days ago…

After finally cleaning out some cupboards (what should have been the predecessor’s responsibility, by the way, grrrrrrrr) and by blocking them against the wall to make sure that they do not totally fall apart, I started to empty the suitcases.  I prepared a whole pile of clothing to be ironed and on Wednesday I asked our housekeeper to iron before arranging them in the cupboards. When we were back in the evening, only 3 shirts were ironed (out of the 50is pieces) but I know that he had other tasks as well, so I said to myself that I had to be more patient.

Thursday morning I mentioned to Badia (the housekeeper) again about the ironing, he said “oui Madame, will do it today” but again when in the evening late I entered the room there were maybe 5 more shirts ironed and the whole pile was still lying on the floor.

Friday morning, before leaving, I told Badia again about the ironing and even told him that it must be finished today. In the evening, when we arrived home, there were so many things to arrange and organize that I forgot to check the ironing. I let Badia go home, told him not to come Saturday and Sunday and went on with organizing.

Saturday I realized that the ironing didn’t progress at all and I became aware of the fact that I will have to be firmer with Badian in the future.

This morning (Sunday) I gathered all the washed clothes, which were hanging drying and was going to iron them. In some parts of Africa or you use a tumble dryer for drying washed clothes or after drying them on a drying rack you will have to iron them one by one because of the risk of getting infected with the “bilharzias” parasite. There is a specific fly which lays eggs on drying clothes and those eggs become parasites that can infiltrate the body trough the skin. As I do not want to find out firsthand about the outcome of this 'meeting'(until my tumble dryer arrive in 2 months with the rest of our removal), I will have to iron each and every piece. 

I plugged in the iron but it was not working. I try everything to make it work but it wouldn’t budge. I got very angry at first but than I remembered my friend’s remark and I could only giggle after that.

About 2 hours later while I was writing these lines the electricity went off. My first reaction was “What else can happen today?!” but than a fast growing suspicion nestled in my had. Was there electricity when I tried the iron this morning? To test it again, first we had to find out how to turn on the generator. With the help of the guard (one is always sitting in our garage, when he is not making rounds to check the garden and the house) finally turned the generator on…. bur nothing was happening.  I was getting more and more annoyed but after making just one phone call and realizing that the maintenance was on its way I cooled down a bit. Finally after only 30 minutes the generator was running again, so I fetched the iron one more time and to my husband’s hilarity… it worked! Prejudice is not a good friend after all!

…..

 Something else did stop working today and there was no way to make it work again. The gas stove just stopped in the middle of cooking my first dinner …  One more day without a hot meal…

In the evening, after al those emotions and having worked the whole day, I have decided to take a nice bath and read a book on my Kindle. And even if I told my husband that he is not permitted to enter the room with bad news anymore today, I felt good and got the feeling that small things like a hot bath can make a world of difference between feeling grumpy or feeling content even without electricity or without gas or without … a hot meal. 

First dilemmas and resolutions...

Standing in my kitchen, with a box of very expensive mini tomatoes imported from France in my hands and having one of those ‘Africa dilemmas’… What is safer for the stomach: to wash the tomatoes or not to wash the tomatoes?!  And if I wash the tomatoes, should I add bleach or permanganate to the water. Ultimately the tomatoes were washed in tap water with permanganate.  Will take time before the routine will kick in…

Today, to have an idea about the real estate market and about the quality of the houses in Bamako, I accompanied my husband on a house hunt mission. We have seen 5 big villas with swimming pools (now you must think, wow) when I told him that I would wait for him in the car at the next villa.

At this point, I’m adding some photos because without these it would be impossible to explain my disappointment. 

The finishing in the bathrooms especially were awful
(see the enlarged second and third photo)

These brand new villas in Bamako are considered as the "high-end" but the quality and the finish is extremely disappointing.
....

We also went on a gym hunt today and after visiting the gym facilities in 2 different five star hotels, (and not being able to stop giggling in the car afterwards) I was ready to buy a treadmill myself.

Finally the 3^rd gym was more or less acceptable, (with among some obscure exercise machines) its 2 better quality Chinese treadmills did convince us. Unfortunately to become a member on the spot was not possible because we needed to provide a medical attest and 2 pass photos each. A few hours later we already had the pass photos, now we only have to find a doctor to declare us healthy.

Speaking of passport photos… A good friend of mine, who is emigration officer in a Western European country, once told me that the “photoshoped” photo in my passport was totally illegal. I wonder what would she say if she would see my newly developed photo? Not many people would recognise me on it and it was not even “photoshoped”. :-) (Conclusion; developing future photos will definitely not happen locally.)

Momo, our driver

I learned one lesson today; if I want to be the happy person during our 3 years stay in Mali, I will have to focus on the good things and I will have to forget about my western standards. 

I must admit that the local people do make me feel welcome because they are extremely friendly and helpful in any circumstances and taking part in this colourful chaos dos gives me a positive energy. Seeing al those beautifully dressed women walking on the streets, often with a baby on their backs and balancing a big package on their heads, makes me feel a huge respect and admiration. And just a smile from my side almost always will initiate a bigger smile in return… 

Kids asking for food on the streets of Bamako

Obamamania on the streets of Bamako

First impression ... or immersion?!

Flying first class from Paris to Bamako with Air France was quite an experience. To give you an idea, this was on the menu:

L’amuse-bouche: Salmon tortilla

Gourmet Appetizer: Foie gras with figs, salmon roulade Florentine (photo)

Main course: Sautéed veal with cumin cream sauce

Dessert trio: pear shortbread, dark chocolate mousse, raspberry almond cookie

And champagne ‘à volonté’!

The TV screen with the itinerary during our flight from Paris to Bamako mesmerized me with all the strange names of places and the landing at Bamako had also a very exotic flavour when our plain pulled in next to an Air Burkina airplane. The size of the airport is more like the old Tirana airport (tiny) and guess what; passengers just descent the plain and walk to the building, in-between all the other plains (some with turning engines) and kerosene tankers. 

The name Bamako comes from the Bambara word meaning "crocodile river".

The ‘health officials’ were the first who we came across, asking for our yellow fewer vaccination cards. Mine from Tirana they declared “pas bon”, not good, bur I had the feeling if I would just continue walking trough, they wouldn’t stop me, it would complicate their work as well so they just turned to the next person and forgot about me.

The only word that popped up in my mind when I saw the police control and what was waiting for us behind it was “quelle bordelle”, what a mess…

Traffic in Bamako

Luckily Mousa, my husband's future assistant, picked us out from the crowd right away (was not too difficult, he just had to listen to the protesting miaus from our cats) and thanks to him the custom control and getting to the car went quite smoothly.

On our way to our new home everything was pitch-dark (not only the night, but everything else as well). It is the rainy season so the streets are very muddy (only 30% of the roads are paved in Bamako) and getting out of the car in front of our house was already an adventure.

The house was one big disappointment. Yes, there are 8 rooms… yes there are 6 bathrooms, but in what a bad condition! The house has not been opened for more than 1 month nor has been cleaned during this period. Not one single door is closing properly and once we finally managed to unlock the entrance door, there was no way to lock it again. So, for 48 our house it stayed open for anybody. (Just for your information, the new locks are working fine now. J)

Once inside, could only think of a title of one movie “The Adams family”. The house gave the same impression as the one from this particular film, only the characters were missing.

On the streets of Bamako

But the big disappointment still had to come; not one single remote control (of about 10 air conditionings) was to be found.  It was about 35 C° in the rooms but because we couldn’t check if the mosquito nets on the windows are intact (too dark in the rooms for that), we couldn’t even open the windows.

I was so jealous of my cats. Of course they detested every minute of the trip to Mali, but once out of the cage, they were asking for food and water and with much confidence they started exploring the house.  I bought a specific “Feliway” spray for cats that I supposed to spray around to make them comfortable but I was the one who would have needed it more.

Finally after a half an hour of looking, found and installed the mosquito nets above the bed, climbed under and hoped to fall a sleep very fast and to wake up in the morning realizing … that last evening was just a very bad dream.  

With the first light we woke up with an ear-splitting noise coming from outside, (later became clear that a big colorful bird was the guilty one) and when I opened my eyes a pair of tiny eyes were looking back at me.  Only a few cm from my face, some kind of a gecko was having a rest on my Kindle. Welcome to Africa!

On the streets of Bamako

I never lived in a place before, where you suppose to have a full time housekeeper, a full time chef (food-preparer) and a full time driver so the idea of it made me a bit uncomfortable, but after only 3 days I realised that I do really need them.  

We are still looking for the “full time chef”, the one that we supposed to take over from the predecessor, gave her demission even before we arrived. The reason was that we didn’t have children so she moved to a family with 3 children.  (And after passing by some markets and not recognising anything that was for sale, we do desperately looking for a chef.)

The housekeeper Badia swabbed the floor in the whole house in the morning but in the evening the floor was as dusty as if it has never been cleaned. The red sandy dust is constantly everywhere…

Badia, our housekeeper

As for the driver…. The traffic is incredible, one big chaos and there are so many things to see and to absorb that driving would be really difficult, at least at the beginning. Not to mention that after 3 days, I’m still not able to find my way back from point A to B (until Mali, I considered myself good in finding directions, but not anymore…). After Tirana, Bamako seams to be a huge city. There are about 2 million people living in the capital, it is estimated as the fastest growing city in Africa and the 6^th fastest in the world. There are hundreds and hundreds of muddy streets witch for the moment, I’m incapable to distinguish.

I have an other ‘distinguishing’ problem as well. For example today, there were 4 different groups of people working in our house. There were 2 people for the installation of the satellite, 2 for the Internet connection, 1 person for the air-conditioning and 1 locksmith. Each time when I came across one of them in the house, even if they presented themselves when they arrived, I had no idea to which group they belonged. It sound stupid, but to me, they all look the same.

Right now, for the first time in 75 hours after our arrival, I’m feeling quite satisfied with our achievement; air conditioning - check, Internet connection – check, new TV – check, satellite – check, clean swimming pool – check.

And there is something else rather satisfying; after 75 hours in Mali, so far no diarrhea !!! All the toilet paper and books that I have already prepared in the bathroom (in case of having to spend long moments at that place) have not yet been useful.  


And one last impression; the Malian people are extremely friendly !!! 

Day 1 out of 1095

Image via Wikipedia

Day 1 started at 2.30 in the morning and that only because I had to make sure that our 17 years old cats receive their calming pills one hour prior to departure from the apartment.

We also had to make certain that we don’t leave anything behind and that we have all our 6 (yes six) suitcases and 2 backpacks with us. That is all what we need to survive for 2 months, before our removal arrives to Mali. Those of you who know our background could even wonder how we managed with only 6 suitcases.  J

I was quite excited about the rare occasion of flying first class but I had the biggest surprise once ready for boarding the plain at Tirana Airport. Some airlines use tiny plains for flying to Tirana and for the past 4 years that I was living in Albania, I was hoping to fly at least once on one of those. But guess what; never happened until the very last day, today. 

And there it was, a beautiful Embraer 120. I must say it was quite an experience especially holding the cage on my laps during the whole flight to Budapest. Seeing our dilemma, the pilots even proposed to put the cage in the cockpit during the flight (the other option was the only one toilet). My first reaction to that was; forget the cats, I want to sit in the cockpit. Unfortunately, my ‘miau’ was not convincing enough.

Waited 3 hours in the Business Lounge at Budapest Airport, catching up with my dear friends and there we went again direction Paris, this time with a slightly bigger Buing.

I heard people complain about Charles de Gaulle Airport before and now I understand why. It is the world 6^th busiest airport in terms of passengers but probably it is in the top 10 of the world must unattractive and unfriendly airports as well. Of course after my first glass of real Champagne, I forgot al about the aesthetics and the service.

I also realised that for the next 3 years, I will really have to get used to the francophone world. It started with requesting our Air France fidelity card. It can be done online but only in French and even if you have the option choosing a language for farther communication by mail (English was my preference) the confirmation arrived, guess what… in French!   

Our cats are attracting much attention (not a positive one though) J. We took 2 cages with us, yet we would have preferred to let them stay together in one cage. Unfortunately for the sake of peace and calm, we did have to separate them. With the bit of energy they had left after the calming pills, they were constantly growling at each other and biting at anything that moved in the cage, including my fingers.  So hear we are, all in our separate little corners…

Half an hour before boarding the atmosphere changed to more of an African one. Men in long dresses and beautiful hats, women in colourful outfits are waiting for boarding… Bamako, here I come!

‎In Europe you have watches; in the Sahara, we have time.

 This quotation from
Moussa Ag Assarid, a tuareg writer from Mali, made me change my decision on "only starting blogging from day one in Mali" and made me share his interview, 15 days before the DAY ONE, with whoever will read my blog.


The wise simplicity of his words truly touched me and made me realize, how living in a different society gives a different reflection on the values of life and happiness.


... and this last sentence backfired on me. :-)

When I shared these thoughts with my husband, he grinned at me and told me that I shouldn't be perturbed by the idea that there is no hot water in my kitchen in Mali after all, but I should be happy that there IS water in the kitchen... So, here I'm being happy about water... and about the mango tree and about the 3 chickens waiting for us at our new home in Bamako...

P.S. The title of Moussa Ag Assari's book in English is:
"In the desert there are no traffic jams"