Tirana has few attractions. Their Museum of History is one, and it offers both the flavor and the feel of this place. Although it was ransacked during the instability in 1990, walking through its halls is like walking through a history of the known world itself. Albania was once called Illyria and the people who populate this rich-soiled, mountainous region by the sea have been warriors since the days of gods long forgotten. Although she has been conquered many times, Albania has never lost her fighter’s soul. The Museum of History is a museum to the human spirit. Fatjon was my key to understanding all that I saw today.
This man was called Batto and he led the Illyrians in a revolt against Rome from 6-9 AD. Some of the other pieces of art housed here are of lesser or unknown people. What can be known is the intelligence of craft and the precision of skill involved in taking any amount of rough stone and turning it into a timeless treasure. Amongst the ancient Albanians were fabricators with a sharp passion to create.
Orientation being one of the principle keys to effective communication, one of the things this museum has plenty of is maps. Albania is truly where east and west meet. It is the frontier land of the two great religions. I forget that not far from this place is where the first shot was fired in World War I. The histories we learn from in the States trace the people’s of America’s founding and I have had omitted for me a true world view. I am learning for the first time that Albania fought the Fascist armies of both Mussolini and Hitler.
I have to remind myself that I am in fact in a place that has given birth to giants. The history of my nation is as much a history of invention and the leveraging of scientific advantage as it is a history of post-industrial idealism. We do lack for heroes as tall as mountains and twice as strong, however. Albania’s history is one of necessary adaptation balanced by savage resistance to change. There is a longing here to be a part of Europe and West and whimsical fetching after ancient ways entombed with Skenderbeu himself. This unique combination gave rise to some of Communism’s greatest minds.
History is so very subjective. Before coming to Albania the only person of this race I had heard of was Mother Teresa.
Before our tour of the place had ended, Fatjon and I were joined by Pastor Alban and his twelve year old niece. Kreshnik called to see what I was up to, and he came to join us for coffee. God has blessed me with the finest friends a man might pray or hope for. We wound up at a place called Skytower, where the floor of the bar spins at a rate of one rotation per hour. Tirana is growing so quickly, I am certain that many of the things we saw from our perch today will soon be demolished.
Thankfully we can rely on God to provide new beauty to replace the old. Fresh purple to fill voids left by decay.
albaniacalling 