My trip back from Istanbul put me in at my apartment in Sauk at 10PM, Thursday night, yesterday. This morning I went to my Albanian language lesson despite my mind and body crying out for just a few more hours of sleep. Traveling even a short distance involves so many stress triggers and interactions with people that are out of the ordinary, no wonder it is exhausting and not refreshing to complete the final leg home. At the airport in Istanbul, all of the luggage of the passengers is checked withing 50 feet of walking through the front door. Avarice in the form of westerners making their way through the line with as many as a dozen parcels, each measuring around 24 inches cubed, is common at IST International. One of the shop keepers I spoke with near the Blue Mosque told me that he once sold $105,000 in rugs to a couple from Everette, Washington. The proper answer to the age old question “what do you get the man/woman who has everything?” is: “everything else.”
The church in Fushekruje had a different appearance today from the time when I left 9 days ago. The facade in the front and the rear have been inlaid with tile, giving just another incremental glimpse of what the finished church will look like. The godina went through another transformation in roof plan while I was away, and it looks finished and professional. Visi was pleased to report that in seven days of rain there hadn’t been any leaks. The transformer which will bring electricity from the street to the church has been mounted and appears ready for its final wiring. Visi had also done quite a bit of work on the flower beds which are on either side of the entry-way steps.
It was good to be back in town. Sauk, Tirana, and Fushekruje all have the familiarity of home, its comforts and frustrations, the parts I have always loved and the parts I am learning to love. Last night, on my walk from the bus stop to the college, I found myself surrounded by street dogs who were eager for whatever food I had brought them. After no little insistence on the part of one of the smaller, blonde coated, black nosed beasts, I dug into my backpack and produced a package of cookies. Standing there, throwing the hard biscuits to one animal, and then the next, I was grateful for those begging hounds. In less than a month I will be returning to the States for a short time. I wonder if they will know me when I get back.
albaniacalling 