Now on to Albania…
I arrived in Tirana, the capital of Albania, at Mother Teresa International Airport in the middle of the afternoon on Saturday, September 16. Mother Teresa was not from the country of Albania but was ethnically an Albanian. I had begun the day in Zurich and taken Malev Airlines (the Hungarian national airlines) to Budapest and on to Tirana. My arrival was set to be about 4 hours before Nancy arrived on British Airlines (she had gone Greensboro, NC to London on US Airways, then London to Tirana on British), so I sat in the only place to sit at the airport—a 24 hour coffee shop adjacent to the terminal. The literature on Slovakia had made the comment that the national pastime of Slovakia was smoking, and my immediate impression was that the Albanians had learned from the Slovaks. The café was filled with people drinking coffee (tiny cups of strong espresso, which, along with cappuccino is the only coffee drink available most places)—and smoking.
My wait at the café was made interesting by watching the people and by an extensive conversation with a young man who, at 4:00 in the afternoon had arrived to begin a vigil of waiting for his Lufthansa flight which left at 5:30 the next morning. He had been in Albania visiting friends for over a month, was enamored by the country and its people, was studying Albanian, and realized the foolishness of trying to get any sleep before needing to be at the airport two hours before a 5:30 flight. Our conversation was lively and I think it kept him engaged as well as it did me.
My entry into the country was fairly easy. In the back of my mind was a horrible experience I had on leaving Albania two years ago, when I had to fight my way in a hot, crowded holding area for over 4 hours in order to get to the immigration desk, but that horror was not repeated. The line for immigration was moderately slow, but not bad. And my bag arrived just as it should have, unlike the last time I flew to Europe for a cycling vacation and my bicycle did not arrive for three days. There were plenty of taxis and others outside the terminal looking for passengers to convey into the city, a 20 minute drive, but after saying no, thank you, several times I found the café and entered it as a sanctuary.



Nancy’s flight was a little late, and I had understood that someone from the American Embassy was supposed to be there to meet her. I kept looking for a likely candidate for that person, and saw no one, but soon after her plane landed there she was being escorted out of the terminal—chatting with someone while another person carried her bags. This welcome was completely unlike any I have ever received upon entering another country (or the USA), but it was just an introduction to the kind of treatment she is receiving as a Fulbright Scholar. When she saw me we greeted and she introduced me to her newly discovered hosts, and I became an honored visitor to Albania as well.
A comment on the Fulbright program. It is the longest running and most prestigious program of its kind in the United States. Funded by Congress annually, it sends scholars and researchers/students to universities in other countries in response to their requests, and it also brings foreign scholars and students to the United States for academic research or teaching. Our orientation in Washington DC clearly stated that Fulbright scholars such as Nancy are not employees of the State Department or any other branch of the United States government, but they are academicians who, while sponsored by Congress, go freely as academicians and individuals. This means several things. One is that Fulbrighters are free to express their own opinions about the United States, or anything or anyone else. While expected to act in an appropriate manner as representatives of the United States, there is no expectation or requirement that Fulbrighters express or support a particular governmental person, party, or policy. Another is that while Fulbrighters are seen as “honored guests” in a country, and afforded special attention by the embassy staff in the country, Fulbright participants do not have access to the resources of the embassy as if they were employees. This means that while we receive special treatment and attention by the embassy—greeting, hosting, helping around, orienting, etc.—we can not enter the embassy without special prior permission, and then only with an escort, and embassy services such as medical services are not available to us.
In practicality it has worked out like this. Nancy (we) were met at the airport and taken to a hotel that the embassy staff (Public Affairs Office) had arranged for us. We were driven around the city by one of the embassy staff and guided to appropriate banking facilities and helped in getting set up with a phone and phone card. We were taken to dinner and given a tour of the embassy, with introductions to most of the Public Affairs staff. A realtor was arranged to show us apartments, with the embassy staff following through to make certain that the apartment we chose was adequate, furnished and ready to occupy. We have been given phone numbers to call, Nancy has been guided to the class she is helping with these first two weeks, and we have been given tickets to a special showing of Modern Kosovar Art in the National Gallery. Next week we will be given a special embassy briefing on things to know and do in Albania. In short, we have been well treated and well guided. I guess that is the welcome that “honored guests” get—but how should I know, since I have never been one before…and when I cross a border wearing cycling garb and sweaty I am looked upon with a modicum of suspicion, not honor…
Photos embedded in this blog are taken from the balcony of our third floor corner apartment. The first photo looks east to the hills. The first building on the left is a student dorm for a school across the street. The second building, with the red base, is part of the university where Nancy will be teaching. The second photo looks south across the street, with hills in the background. The third photo looks west down the street and towards the center of town (not visible). The low yellow/brown wall stretching down the street is the wall of the American Embassy compound—if the breeze were blowing you could see the US flag flying in front of the main building. We chose our apartment for its openness and proximity to the embassy and Nancy’s teaching site.

Enough for today. More tomorrow…