Albania is just an hour by air from Rome, but geography is deceiving. Arriving at the airport in Tirana you realize that history stopped in this country for more than 40 years and has just started up again. Although the visit had been prearranged, the Cakonis had no idea when we were coming because they do not have access to a telephone. Still, they were very welcoming. Hajdar kissed us, as expected by tradition, and his wife, Hanke, went to toast and grind some coffee for us. And then the smell of this incredibly good coffee came floating from the house.
Time has another meaning here: 3 hours a day to go back and forth to school, 40 minutes a day to get water with the donkey, 4 hours' walking every two weeks to the market in the nearest town. Decades of communism did little to change Albanian traditions. Many marriages are still arranged, and we were told that the parents of the bride give the groom a bullet, symbolizing his power of life and death over her.
The influx of consumer capitalism may change that. The Cakonis now watch Italian TV every night and discontentedly compare what they see with what they have. For good reason--meat is rare, houses have no running water, jobs are scarce, health care is rudimentary. Although I believe that their lives close to the earth have value, the Cakonis want to live elsewhere, and have more. Who would argue with them? Their youngest child, Aurel, is disabled, and they have no doctor able to diagnose his condition, let alone help him progress through life.
