Monday and Sunday.

The internet was knocked out in a storm on Friday.  The fix was simple, as so many fixes turn out to be; but only if you know the fixes.  Today is Monday, and this is the first day that I have ended on a down note since I arrived in Albania.  It would have been lovely to author this post for you yesterday.  In fact, I think I’m going to do my best to forget about today, and do my best to illustrate the victories of yesterday.

Sunday: Today I woke up after a relatively short, yet restful sleep.  I was only able to fall asleep after successfully transmitting my brief sermon for church to a handwritten note at around 2AM.  Writing by hand isn’t as easy as it used to be.  Etmira accompanied me to the church in Durres, which is the second largest city in Albania.  Durres is the home church of Pastor Gezim and about four of the students from my school.  Quoting from Psalm 139, I tried to illustrate the energy and effort it takes for God to know the members of His Church Body as intimately and as completely as He does.  God is invested in you, and there isn’t a person in a chair for a Sunday service, the world over, whom God did not intend to be there.

I hadn’t realized until after I spoke that I was the opening act for Pastor Salvatore.  Salvatore is my friend and is a missionary from Naples, Italy.   There was a translator for the audience from Italian to Albanian.  I haven’t any idea what his message was or anything about what he was saying.  However, after his sermon we had the opportunity to share fellowship in his home with about 20 people from the church.  Peridi played guitar and the people sang and danced.  It was like the kind of day you could never have in the States, like something out of a Francis Ford Coppola film.

After a big meal of pasta with salcica and salse, we all went down to the beach of Durres to kick around a volleyball and enjoy the Adriatic.  The beach of Durres is like taking the best of Huntington Beach, Conney Island, and Zihuatanejo and putting them down on a single stretch of sand.  I could imagine myself living there very contently.

At the end of our time on the beach, we all walked to a cafe and shared more time together; taking photos and telling stories.  The girl who was translating for me did her very best, but jokes are rarely funny even in their native language.  At the end of our time there, Pastor Gezim showed up wearing a full black Adidas jogging suit.  I got him a chair which guaranteed him sitting next to me.  As he sat and told stories and shared jokes, he leaned on my knee, which I found really endearing.  The men here are not as afraid of appearing homosexual as the men are back home.  Two men holding hands or walking with their arms around each other is a sign of brotherhood, which is celebrated here.  If I could, I would be mentored by Gezim.  He really seems to do everything with all of his energy, leaving nothing behind, and he is absolutely adored by everyone.  Some people just “get” people.

After that, we drove to a bus stop at one of Durres’ suburbs.  Etmira and I headed on back to Tirana.  We had fun, she is fun, and she is funny too.  On our way from Sauk Qender to the school, I stopped to feed Max.  Sunday was the first day that upon seeing me from a distance he made the effort to meet me half way.  After feeding him, I had to convince him that he didn’t want to follow me.  Dogs are sweet creatures by nature.