There is a term I hear over and over again in this ancient nation; “avash, avash.” When translated literally this term means “slowly, slowly.” What it meas in practice, however, can be one or more of the following things: be careful, take your time, don’t be in a hurry, everything will work out, don’t worry about it, it is under control, comfort is more important than speed, quality is more important than speed, you are not behind, we are not behind, it will happen in time, don’t concern yourself, I trust that I will have your answer soon, there is nothing that we can do about it, and there will be time enough for you to complete what you have begun.
The work on the church has been characteristic of the Albanian approach to construction as I have witnessed in Albania in general. I will describe it as: avash, avash. The tallest building in Albania, a structure which is within a few meters of the main bus station near the centerof Tirana is incomplete. It has not seen a single day of improvement since I arrived here in April; avash, avash. The hotel that is being built near the school I live in in Sauk has had dozens of unopened pallet-loads of brick stacked on the second floor for weeks; avash, avash. My jobsite was atypical of Albania today. The church jobsite in Fushekruje had three full crews working today.
Kole and Edmund were installing mermer. Mermer is the granite windowsill material that goes down before windows are installed.
Yli and Miri were installing and grouting the tile in the bathrooms on the first floor.
Visi and I worked on the savatim for the gabina. Savatim is composed of the same material as sprutso, but is has a more finished look. Savatim is what English speakers might call stucco.
At the end of the day I went by Fatjon’s house to pay his family a visit; it had been too long since I had come by. I was greeted like a dignitary, and given the seat next to Fatjon’s grandmother. Fatjon is the oldest of the nine grandchildren to his father’s mother who live behind the green gate which demarks the estate of his family from the road. One of his little cousins was sick. She had been tied down to her cradle. The children here are long suffering, resilient, inquisitive and beautiful.
I enjoyed my time catching up with Fatjon’s family. Sajmir is out of town. He has found work up north for the next bit of time. I was assured more than once that my membership as part of the family is not contingent on where Sajmir works or whether or not I was formally invited to come by. My presence is expected, it is my absence which causes people to wonder.
albaniacalling 