Albania

This country was challenging for me, but overall it was still okay.

Of the few locals in Albania who were curious enough about me to actually say something to me, aside from a hard cold stare, were to ask, “Do you like Tirana?” As far as I can remember, of all the places that I have been to, Albania is the only one whose locals would ask such question in such a direct manner. Usually people would say something to the effect of “I hope you have enjoyed your stay here” or “Enjoy your trip.”

On my first full day in Tirana, which was a holiday (National Youth Day), a 25-year-old Albanian guy approached me and offered to give me a tour around the city. One of the questions he asked me was, “So far, what’s your impression of Tirana?”

On my third day in Tirana, a Chinese guy who was born in Hong Kong and grew up in the UK asked me in a very heavy British accent, “Hello, can I help you?” He worked for the British embassy and had been in the city for three months, but had not yet gotten used to the hard cold stares that he attracted from the locals, he said with a grimace. There is a mini Chinatown in Tirana, according to the 25-year-old Albanian, so Chinese people are not aliens in the land of Albania. Yet, many of the locals stared at us as if we were aliens. They cautiously and stealthily observed us, wondering what on earth were we doing in their country. I could not tell whether it was an inferiority complex (which translates to apprehension), as the 25-year-old Albanian had categorized it, or a hostile or disapproving attitude toward foreigners.

Hospitable? Hmm … not with the stares. Here is how I would describe the different kinds of stares, and yes, there are actually different kinds, to my own surprise, these are the nuances that I had come to notice after traversing through the different countries. In Skopje, the Turks would greet me with “Hello” or “Hi” or “你好”, if they passed me by on the street. They would look (not stare) at me and greet me with a bright and happy expression on their face. It was a child going to a toy store and her face immediately lit up when she saw the toys. In Tirana, even when I smiled at the locals, they would still return me with a solemn and cold expression, as if their face had been anaesthesized. It was like seeing a ghost in a haunted house. I am sure not everyone in Albania is like that, although there were a lot of people who stared.

There were a few things that I had trouble with in Albania. For example, men spitting all over the streets. I always kept my eyes on the ground as I walked, making a great effort to avoid the “landmines” instead of reveling whatever beauty I could find in the city. Another thing that I had trouble with was the quality of the air (from car fumes, cigarette smokes indoor and outdoor, burning of trash, etc.). The best things in life are free. One of the things that made my spirit soar and my heart sing when I returned to ‘civilization’ is the abundance of fresh air.

One of the good things about visiting Albania is that it is relatively cheap, if you know where to shop and eat.

I have read that there are four layers of understanding. First layer is the face value of the words. Second layer is the message between the lines. I don’t remember what the third layer is. The fourth layer is an understanding so deep that it cannot be described in words.

Although I have attempted to point out why Albania challenged me, I don’t think it’s any of the above. I think the real reason lies much deeper — so deep that it cannot be put in words, it can also be felt.