Yesterday was a holiday for seemingly everyone except Visi, Agim and me. Today we had eleven people on site. Four men were hanging rock on the second floor, three were down below putting the next phase of touches on the concrete slab, two were working on the plumbing and Visi and I were working on the Godina. I realize that I have been saying Gabina in my posts. Another mistake I made was from yesterday. It turns out that Bajramin has nothing to do with the month of October, but is a set number of days after Ramadan which can happen just about any time according to our calendar. I learned today that there are two calendars for Muslims. One is called the French, and the other is called the Turkish. I think we’re on the Turkish one here in Albania.
It was challenging today to stay out of my head. I am a man who likes a predictable, clean and relatively quiet job site. Zero out of three isn’t all bad. I may be able to find serenity under more tumultuous conditions as I mature as a missionary, which is certainly a positive. One of the men on the job site challenged me to an arm wrestling contest today. Before I could refuse he had already positioned himself over a marble window sill; the elbow of his right arm firmly set, his left hand clutching the lip of the slab. He beat me soundly before asking me how many years I had. As it happens, he is three years my senior.
I took a few minutes to visit our neighbor Ardi. I don’t often see him working at his house during the week. He and his wife were building a house for their chickens. Resourceful would be the one word I would choose, if I had to choose only one to describe Albanians in general. My second word would be passionate, and number three would be emotional. Four, five, and six: certain, sure, and right.
By the end of the day I was ready for the end of the day. I visited my pack of dogs on the way home. Their number has been reduced to four either through acts of nature or acts of violence. Max is still alive, and he still won’t let me get near him. He recognizes me as a source of food, which is all I really want to be for him. I don’t love him for any reason in particular. I love him because I choose to love him.
albaniacalling 