I arrived here at Udhekryq Bible School in Erseke on Friday. Since then I have attended worship in Albanian, walked to a nearby small village, biked down the road a ways, hiked to a gorge, had coffee in one of the local cafes, and taught several sessions on the parables of Jesus. Yesterday and today were national holidays so they did not have classes at the University of Tirana so Nancy was able to join me here on Saturday, but she will have to return on Friday to teach a class the next day. I will be here for another week.

Erseke used to be dangerous. They tell me that the advice given travelers not so many years ago was simply not to stop here, and to bus passengers not to get off. It is a small town and the Greek border is just at the top of the hills outside the city limits. There is no place to stay and only one restaurant. The shops are small and the side streets that are paved were so only recently. The apartment buildings are typical communist-era buildings—drab and poorly constructed. There are a couple small industries here, like the local mill and the cheese factory situated just outside the gate of our school, but agriculture and shepherding seem to be the mainstays of the economy. This season of the year we can see small fires on the hillsides every night, evidence of shepherds burning patches of scrub brush so the ground will come to life with something the sheep can eat. And there is a great deal of unemployment.

Erseke began as a way station for travelers when a small store sprouted up in the middle of nowhere. Gradually more people brought their goods to sell and the town just grew. The people here were strongly supportive of the communist regime, and Erseke is still considered solidly socialist. The Orthodox church is new and the church that birthed the Bible school is fairly new as well. There is no mosque in town, which is unusual.

And Erseke is beautiful. The air is clear (after the cheese factory has boiled its milk for the day) and the vistas go on for ever. As it sets, the evening sun lights up the mountains, and the snow on their tops sparkles. The crops right now are in and the new ones not yet up, the trees have lost their leaves, and the apples have been picked and sold. So much is brown—but it is a beautiful brown. What the town lacks in man-made charm is more than compensated for by God-made hills and fields and streams.

And then there is the silence. Nancy and I live on one of the busiest streets in Tirana. Traffic is coming and going all hours of the day and night. This provides endless entertainment for us as we watch the weaving and running and near misses from our balcony, but it does make for noise and foul air. Erseke has none of that. The mooing of a cow or the barking of a dog may disturb the silence, but little else does. We can walk down the middle of the highway that goes through the town and seldom be forced to move to one side or the other. It is quiet… And that makes me pause and ponder what life must have been like in the past when there were no cars and when people were not in such a hurry and when the sound of silence prevailed. I think of David in the shepherd fields and pioneers trekking west and ranchers today in parts of our country. It is a good reminder and has a strange attraction. It challenges me to rediscover what it means to, "Be still, and know that I am God…” (Psalm 46:10). How about you?

Today's blog will be short and picture-less, for two reasons. One is that I left my camera in the car that brought me to where I am and I will not see it until tomorrow when Nancy joins me for five days. The other is where I am and will be for the next two weeks. That is at a Bible Camp in Erseke (also spelled Erseka--I finally figured out that Albanian places have two spellings--one to use when you are talking about a place and another when you are at that place). The town is small and has no high-speed internet access, so what I can offer will be limited...

My first day at the Bible Camp was spent in helping to repair seven old donated mountain bikes and then test-riding one, something that I did not plan on but that could prove to be a useful tent-making activity. One of the camp directors commented on how unusual it was to have a visiting professor do such a thing, and how positive an example it was--maybe there is something to be learned in that comment... But the formal reason for being here is that I will be giving a two week class on the Parables of Jesus to a small group of students who are studying the Bible and experiencing Christian fellowship and ministry at a Bible Camp that is run by an organization called Torchbearers. I am here at the invitation of the school, an invitation that came because the house-parents here are two very good friends from Nancy and my days in ministry in Fresno, from 1970-1973.

I do hope I can post some of the photos I took getting to this remote southern part of Albania, as the scenery is spectacular. Barren rugged hills with a touch of new-fallen snow, a large lake defining the border of Albania and Macedonia, some forest and very twisty uncrowded roads. The school is on the outskirts of the town, just off the main road, and occuppies a facility that used to be a grain storage during the communist days. Its existence is a miracle that I hope to share with you, and the people are particularly dedicated. It will be a joy to be here--a joy I hope I can communicate as I write.

A couple personal notes...
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner at the home of one of the embassy staff. They live in the "Compound", also called "The American Village", which is a bit of suburban America planted (behind guarded walls) in the outskirts of Tirana. Very kind people, a very nice home and a wonderful dinner--including pumpkin pies made with pumpkins brought back from Italy by one of the embassy staffers...
Nancy is teaching Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday every week, but this week can be with me as Albania celebrates its two Independence Days (one from Turkish domination in the early 1900s and the other from German occupation at the end of WWII). There is actually some controversy about the second, as the people most responsible for that freedom were the communists who themselves were ousted in 1992. People want to be grateful for those who brought them freedom but do not want to honor communists...A bit of a dilemma that the nation struggles with.
We have to leave the country for three days in December, to get our visas renewed, so will be going to Bologna. Then six days after we return to Tirana, on Christmas eve day, we will go to Rome, meet daughter JJ, and have a wonderful week with her for our Christmas holidays. A big change from Christmas at home, with all the decorations and events, but that is the plan. Meanwhile Emily, Steve and Colette will be in their new home in Greensboro for the holidays.

I will try sending this now as it can not be too large with this internet connection (did some of you hope for such a limit on my sermons??). But I should close with one thought, though, and that is how wonderful it is to have long-term friends with whom we have ministered and shared. Such are Bob and Linda here in Erseke, and such are many of you. We thank God for the body of Christ that is made flesh by such...

Food…As I think about the various entries I have made in this blog I am surprised to realize that I have said nothing about food. Obviously a topic of interest to all living creatures, it is also a topic written at length about in every guidebook for every country one would ever visit. Yet I have not mentioned it.
I guess one of the reasons I have not is that I am not a food connoisseur. Nancy would say that the basic reason for this fault is that I have used so much Tabasco for so long that I have no taste buds left, but I consider that a gross exaggeration. I have nothing against food—I like it and I honor people who appreciate the finer points about food. I was constantly amazed and entertained by some of the table discussion at our Calvin Senior Men’s Bible Study as it often involved where to find the best sausage, which restaurant made the best steaks, and even which exits to take off the interstates to get to what eatery that would tantalize the taste buds with a certain specialty. My hat goes off to the likes of Andy Montana who truly understands fine food, and Jack Epley (whose chowder recipe is a lasting legacy). And I thank them for introducing me to the Maltby Café’s cinnamon roll.

But that is not me (actually, that is not I, but only my mother would notice the grammar). I enjoy good food, but I am not discerning as many are. I gravitate towards cheap and simple. I felt embarrassed that I had nothing of value to add to the Calvin Cook Book. I can do pancakes at 4th of July and falafel for friends, and my daughters like my tuna-melt sandwiches. But that is about all…
So, with that digression as an introduction, in my opinion how is the food in Albania? It is good and sometimes excellent and usually inexpensive. Eating in our apartment is easy. We have a small grocery store on the ground floor and make a trip or two a day—never for big purchases but for fresh ones. Around the corner is a fruit and vegetable stand which Nancy frequents nearly every day. She has gotten to know the owner and is learning how to say the names of what she buys in Albanian. On the outskirts of town there is a small mall with a grocery about the size of Richmond Beach’s QFC, but we have only been there once. There are a couple things that we have not been able to fine—brown sugar and syrup for example—but aside from these things anything we could get in the US is here.

Having said that, I need to add that “eating out” is not uncommon. One reason is price and ease. For example, I am writing this while sitting in a sidewalk café enjoying the sun and eating a sufllaqe and soft drink. The sufllaqe is a staple, like the American hamburger, made of meat cooked on a vertical rotisserie (Greek gyro style) and stuffed into pita bread with tomatoes, cucumbers, sauces and French fries. It costs 100 lek (1 lek = a penny US). In typical European style I can stay at this table all day if I chose and the waiter will not bother me. The sufllaqe is tasty and filling.
Another traditional staple that you can find everywhere is the byrek. It is the local equivalent to a meat pie, made of flaky dough filled with meat or spinach or cheese then fried. Nancy likes that. The panini, a sandwiches filled with meat pressed in a kind of waffle iron, is another option. And then there is pizza. It is everywhere. It is cheap. It is often good.

All these are considered Fast Food and stands and stores selling Fast Food (signs in English) are on every block. But then there are the good restaurants—and there are many. The Sheraton, has an excellent (and expensive they tell me) restaurant, but scattered around and known to locals are countless others. The Italian influence is obvious, but the menus are varied, the food fresh, and the presentation is tops. There are a few places that specialize in Albanian cuisine, which is roasted meat (often lamb), wonderful vegetables, and traditional meat balls, but more are Italian shaped. All the food is clean, there is no problem eating anything that is offered, and even the water is safe—although most prefer to drink bottled water. And if you long for a real American meal, you can go to the Qendra Stefans (Stevens Center), a restaurant run by missionaries from the US who use the profit to support Albanian churches. The regular menu has hamburgers and pancakes, and on Saturdays you can get waffles and eggs benedict. They serve a real British breakfast, and have pots of brewed coffee…They are doing turkey and all the trimmings for Thanksgiving.
I know I have left out much, but I hope this gives a flavor (good word) of the food in Albania. In short, in the capital where we live, eating is a treat, an adventure, and a positive one. The Garden of Eden was filled with, every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food… (Genesis 2:9). In Tirana the evidence of that garden is all around.

Having said that I must my one sadness— real Mexican food is non-existent. One restaurant serves passable Mexican, but it is not like home, so care packages of Taco Bell would be gladly accepted…

Today let’s just take a quick sightseeing trip. They say it is the last unspoiled stretch of beaches on the Mediterranean. It is also called the Albanian Riviera. One guide book says, There are not many good consequences of Albania’s isolation and poverty under communism, but this unspoilt coastline is one…It is a 75 mile journey beginning 90 miles south of Tirana, at the town of Vlora, continuing on to the town of Saranda, near the border with Greece. And Nancy and I experienced it last weekend.
One of the obstacles you face in traveling through Albania and seeing the sites is the lack of good transportation options. For this particular trip the most practical way to make it was how we did it—hire a car and driver. The car was, of course, a Mercedes, and the driver, Leonardi, was a local who spoke pretty good English. We left Tirana Friday afternoon, on road that was alternately fairly good to under construction. (More evidence of the effort Albania is putting in to developing its network of roads) The road followed a coastal plain to the port town of Vlora, where we spent the night.

VLORA
Books describe Vlora, the second largest port in the country, as a much fought over prize whose strategic position only 45 miles from Italy, enables it to control maritime access to the Adriatic. Occupied by Romans, Normans, Ottomans, Italians and Germans, it was at Vlora in 1912 that an Albania delegation declared independence from the Ottomans. It was also at Vlora in March 1991 that 20,000 young Albanians commandeered ships and took them to Italy (our driver was among those men). It was in 1997 that riots in Vlora developed into a period of country-wide civil anarchy. And it was until a crackdown in 2002 that Vlora was effectively controlled by armed gangs and was the center of an international mafia-type network of human trafficking. Quite a history—but now safe and an enjoyable destination for sun and surf.
THE ALBANIAN RIVIERA
Saturday after breakfast we drove the Riviera. The road was good, the terrain rugged, and the views spectacular. Most of the way the beach was some distance below the road and some of the way a long ways down. It wound up 3,000 feet through the pine forests of Llogaraja National Park, then plunged down to the sea.
The 75 mile trip took over four hours to drive and along the way we passed castles, beaches, and a cave used to hide submarines during WWII. They say development is on the way, and I am certain it is, but we were glad to see the area before the invasion is too intrusive.

SARANDA
Saranda is a smaller town, nestled in a bay that marks the boundary between the Ionian and Adriatic Seas. It has a beautiful seafront promenade and many large and small hotels. Ours cost $15 per person, breakfast included. But before settling in for the evening we made a quick trip a few miles further south to visit one of the prime archaeological sites of Albania—Butrint.
THE LIONS GATE-BUTRINT
While not the largest nor the most impressive building site I have seen, the natural setting of this ancient fortress-city was unique and its ruins particularly interesting as they included Illuryan, Hellenic, Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman and Venetian aspects—a diversity that is very unusual.
Sunday’s trip back to Tirana was something else. We took the much easier inland road rather than the coastal route, and passed through a wide valley from which we could see the snow-capped tops of the mountains of central-eastern Albania. We stopped at Gjirokastra, famous for its fortress castle and steep streets which were described by Ismail Kadare, an Albanian writer, in this way: It was a surprising city, which seemed as if it had come out of the valley unexpectedly, one winter’s night, like a prehistoric being, and clambered up with difficulty, stitching itself on to the side of the mountains…A quick walk through the town and a coffee and we were back in the car heading for Tirana.
CAFE IN GJIROKASTRA

Albania is a small country. But Albania is a surprising country in its geographical diversity and historical interest. In just two days we drove through over half of the country (north-south) and saw much. Speed does not characterize travel here, and neither does modern or clean. But interesting and beautiful it is—and we are grateful to God for the time and resources to experience it. Plus we want to see more…

Revelation 6:9-11, When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. They called out in a loud voice, "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and brothers who were to be killed as they had been was completed…

In 1967, following the lead of China, its only ally and outside contact, Albania pursued its own vicious Cultural Revolution. In particular, it banned the practice of any and all religions, and declared itself the world’s first, and only, atheist state. Catholic, Orthodox, and Muslim leaders were shot or imprisoned and church buildings were destroyed or turned into warehouses. Those discovered attempting to practice any religion were detained and tortured, killed, imprisoned or exiled. This declared ban against the practice of any religion remained in effect until May of 1990. You can see its history spelled out in some detail in the National Historical Museum in the center of Tirana, where it is labeled Genocide under the Communist Regime.

THE MAIN MOSQUE IN TIRANA
Albania is traditionally divided into three religious groups: 70% Muslim, 20% Orthodox and 10% Catholic. Outside these categories there was a small Jewish population which left Albania after the founding of Israel. Albanian Jews were not persecuted during WWII and, in fact, Albania provided a safe sanctuary for some during the war. The reason for their exodus was simply that most Albanians wanted out of the country and they were lucky enough to have a nation that would welcome them. Also a Sufi order of Islam called Bektashism has its world center in Albania. This order allies itself with folk beliefs and is led by clerics known as dervishes whose ceremonies have led to the phrase whirling dervish

THE MAIN CATHOLIC CHURCH IN TIRANA
These religious figures are only approximate, as the 2000 census did not include any questions regarding religion. In any case the figures represent nominal adherence, since for most people in Albania any religious identification is of little significance in daily life. The high Muslim percentage is a result of the centuries long Ottoman control of this part of the world and their policy of allowing other religious but taxing their adherents more highly than Muslims and, unlike Muslims, subjecting them to the devshirme (forced adoption of a son to be raised as a Muslim and trained to be a civil servant or member of the Ottoman army’s elite Janissary Corps). These policies encouraged conversion to Islam, and many followed, but not for particularly meaningful religious reasons.

Protestants have historically been extremely rare in Albania--some would say they have been non-existent. This changed with the opening of the country in the early 1990’s and an influx of missionaries and mission activities that came with it. In 1997, following an economic collapse precipitated by an elaborate country-wide pyramid (ponzi) scheme that bankrupted many ordinary citizens, the country descended into anarchy for a period of months and most missionaries left the country. One figure cited was that in 1996 there were 700 foreign missionaries in the country, only 2 of which stayed as the country imploded. When the country re-stabilized mission activity returned, and now the Protestant church is growing in number and influence, particularly in urban areas. New churches are being formed and Bible Schools are being established to train Albanians to be leaders in their country and missionaries abroad.

Nancy and I participate in one of those new churches, an International Church which is related to the Assemblies of God in America. The pastor is from the United States, and often the Sunday speaker is a visitor from the United States or some European country. The services are bi-lingual, English and Albanian, and full of music and joy. It occupies a very ordinary building near our apartment, but its location directly across from the Iranian Embassy means that the people in that embassy hear loud gospel music several times a week—something I am pleased with!

THE MOST FAMOUS ALBANIAN CHRISTIAN
I believe that the potential for the gospel in Albania is great. I also believe that if Albanians come to faith they could be a key factor in reaching into Muslim nations which are closed to many from “Christian” nations but open to those from other Muslim nations, which includes Albania. Already missionaries are being sent out from Albania, and more are in training.

When I think of the barriers to the gospel in Albania several come to mind. One is the history of persecution which kept a whole generation of Albanians from hearing anything about Christ. Another is the deep-rooted cultural indifference to any religion that seems to be a part of the Albanian ethos. A third is the challenge to develop a truly indigenous Albanian church, not one dependent on or echoing the richer and larger western churches. Time will tell, but we can thank God that the situation today is much more favorable to the spread of the gospel than it has been for centuries.

Please pray for the church in Albania. And when you do, pause and remember with honor those Albanians whose faith was lived out through an extremely difficult time and especially those who remained faithful even unto death. Of such martyrs is made the kingdom of God, and on their blood the church lives on today…

The subject for today is another of the basic living issues which all people face and the shape it takes in Albania. The subject is traffic. I have been told that the best word to describe traffic in many Asian cities is horrific. Perhaps traffic in Tirana is not as bad as that, but the best word I can think of to describe it is perilous.

Partly this is because until 1990 all vehicles were government owned. It was illegal to own a private car. This meant that there was very little traffic and very little need for an extensive network of roads. When private ownership became possible, however, vehicle ownership took off, and with two consequences. One is that the roads are filled with relatively novice drivers. The other is that road use expanded more rapidly than road improvement so roads leave much to be desired. Both of these consequences play out in the streets.

I believe that every nation has its written and unwritten driving rules, and my observation is that in Albania those rules include:

• Pedestrians do not exist. Every curb and every crossing should be marked walkers beware, because when you try to cross a street you and only you know you are there—vehicles will not be watching for you. The exception is when enough mass of humanity in unison tries to claim a pathway—then a car may slow down or veer aside. Nancy and I look for businesses we can frequent and services we can access that are on our side of the street in front of us, because crossing that street is a dangerous and time-consuming undertaking. We also plan our walking routes carefully, taking into consideration the time of day and the location of the safest crossing places. On occasion we have even been known to cross a street when an unexpected gap occurred, even though we had no reason to cross—the gap was there so instinctively we took it!

• Lanes are only general guidelines. Veering and weaving is the norm, and the center line is easily ignored. This is a bit unnerving to the novice passenger when he or she suddenly realizes that the car he is in is heading directly towards oncoming traffic, but such is the case. This rule also means that if you want to make a turn, right or left, you can make it from wherever you want. It is not unusual to see a car suddenly swerve sharply across three lanes of traffic to make a turn. U-turns are the same—you can make them anywhere a space can be claimed, no matter how many cars must screech to a stop as you do…

• Horns are meant to be used. A simple rule, but at certain times of day or night quite annoying. While few cars simply drive down the road with horn blaring, I have searched many times in vain for some possible explanation for the horn I hear. Perhaps the driver is just testing it to be certain it is ready for some eventuality…

• Traffic police have better things to do than attend to traffic. While sometimes at some corners you find a traffic warden who is actually directing traffic, it is more common to see such figures in groups of two or three chatting on the sidewalks, no matter what chaos is developing at their intersection. The same is true as pedestrians wait in vain for a gap in the traffic, he interest level of traffic police in the pedestrians’ plight is zero. Crosswalks do exist but I have no idea why as they impart no special privileges to pedestrians.

• Cars must be washed daily, if not more often. I have not counted, but I would guess that after little cafes that serve espresso, the most common business in Albania is the car wash. In small garages, empty fields, by the side of the road, or wherever, pressure washers with soap and bucket call out to drivers—and they respond. Old car or new, it makes no difference, it must be washed.

These are some of the rules of the road and there are others, but to be accurate I should add that people tell me things are improving, and I see signs of that. There are major resurfacing projects going on all around the country; some traffic lights have bulbs and some of those bulbs work some of the time, and when they do drivers almost always obey them; when a traffic warden asserts himself the traffic usually obeys. Albania is progressing! The challenge I think it faces is to improve the situation fast enough to get ahead of the rapid growth in the number of vehicles.

Years ago I was startled to read an article by a renegade Latin American Catholic priest in, of all places, Bicycling magazine. The article made this observation: if you add up the time spent in earning the money to purchase and maintain a car plus the time spent driving the car plus the time spent attending to the car’s needs for gas, repair, etc. and then divide that into the actual miles driven, the average miles traveled per hour would usually work out to be around 4. His point was that many can walk faster than that—and that to do so would be healthier… Over the years I have pondered that article and the point, which I find statistically accurate but clearly oversimplified. Yet Iit makes me ask to what degree the automobile is a machine that has become our master. In Genesis 1:26 it says, And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion… That dominion is authority and it is ours. But as I look and hear the chaos which passes our apartment every day, I wonder if we are relinquishing that authority to a thing we have created. I also wonder how we could manage it better…


Oh, yes, one more thing. When I talk about cars in Albania I could use the word Mercedes instead, as the two are almost synonymous. Lacking official statistics, from our balcony I took four sample counts of 30 passing vehicles. The results showed the following number of Mercedes in each group of 30: 10…17…14…16. In other words, approximately 1 out of every 2 vehicles on the roads of Albania is a Mercedes…I have been told a reason for this, but will reserve that tale for another time.

I have been told that some would like to know what our living situation in Albania is, so I will try to describe that today. The description is pretty straight-forward, and may not be interesting to everyone, but I hope it answers some of the questions that people have.

When we first arrived in Albania, as a Fulbrighter Nancy had the luxury of the active support of the US embassy. This meant that the embassy had arranged for a realtor to show us some apartments that he felt would serve our needs. We only had two criteria, both of which were met by the first apartment he showed us. Those criteria were: location and sun. Knowing that our mode of transportation would be walking, we did not want Nancy to have to walk far to get to her classes at the University, and having heard about the cold, damp winter weather that lay ahead, sun was important.

We have now spent almost two months in our apartment, and are pleased with our choice. Regarding location, we look out of our bedroom window at the lawn of a dorm for high school students, while just across that lawn is the University. The walk for Nancy is about two minutes. Regarding sun, the morning sun shines full in our bedroom window, then moves around our apartment, shining through large windows, until it sets in the west in our full view.

We live in a corner apartment on the third floor of a 9 story building. Our windows and balcony overlook a busy street, the University and the US embassy. Our building has an elevator which works most of the time. Our apartment is furnished by IKEA, and probably recently. We have three rooms, each of which has a wall heater, plus a bathroom. All the floors are tile. Our bedroom furniture consists of one bed, a wardrobe and dresser, and one small bedside table. The middle room has one old table and an ironing board. Our kitchen has a table and 7 chairs, a couch and a TV table on which perches and old, and useless, TV. We have a refrigerator, a combination gas and electric stove, an oven, and a dishwasher. The bathroom has a sink, toilet (which fills so slowly that it always sounds like it is leaking), a tub, a clothes washing machine, and our electric hot water tank. The front door is a massive metal one, my guess is it is burglar-proof.

On the ground floor of our building are 6 café/clubs, one fast-food place, an internet site, a beauty parlor, a Western Union and money-exchange office, a defunct travel agency, and a small market. If we can not find what we want in the market, we go through an alley to a student-populated area full of internet sites, cafes, and small stores. Banks and ATM machines are just a couple minutes away. The walk to Tirana’s city center takes about 20 minutes, to the churches we attend about 10, and to the largest city park about 5. We have walked all around the city at all times and, except for traffic, have never felt at risk at all.

The down-sides (besides traffic)? Really not many. The water goes off once or twice a day, but predictably enough that you plan ahead. I’ve been told that the power will go off periodically in the winter, and if that happens the electric heaters will not work and it will get cold. The first several weeks here there were no lights in the outside corridors and the stairways were pretty dirty, but after a building-wide meeting things improved. We have no phone, but our cell phones work fine. Then there is the meager TV and no in-house internet, but for a price we could have either or both. Not having a car is an advantage as places are readily accessible on foot or cab, and who needs to deal with driving, parking, and gasoline, etc.

When we sold our house in Seattle we intentionally set about down-sizing. Here in Albania, although we have more than many in the world, we are living a down-sized life and it is good. We know that all that we have is given us by God, and we also know that we are accountable to him for how we use our things. When I see people living in large houses filled with things that are seldom used and with whole rooms that are almost never occuppied, I wonder. I think of the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19ff) and the awful fate of the one whose wealth was spent only on himself, and I think that we who have much need to heed this warning today. Maybe here in Albania Nancy and I are learning more about living simply and responsibly. Maybe that is one of the reasons we are here…

The Economist for October 28 contained a short but interesting article on Albania. It was titled, Albanian economy, Good times, at last. And it began with these words, It is not hard to find bad news in Albania…Yet over the past five years the country has undergone a little-noticed but remarkable transformation… As I travel around the city of Tirana what I see and the people I talk to echo the truth in this line. The State Department categorizes international civil service posts on a 1-5 scale. 1 means it is easy to live and work in a place while 5 labels the post the most difficult assignment—the only more difficult is a post labeled war zone. Albania today is a 5, but I think that classification may need to be revised. I hope the reasons for this will become clear as I continue this blog over the weeks ahead.

Moving on, the subject for today is trash. And the summary statement, if you do not care to read about trash, is—there are worse places and there are better places. Coming into the city you pass roadsides littered with trash of all kinds—from bottles to plastics to papers to furniture. Phone cards, cigarette packs, and anything else that is portable, once used, is thrown down, and it all gathers wherever it can. One day I saw a Mercedes slightly slow down, then the driver’s door opened and a glass bottle was thrown into the median of the road. Alleys and byways have piles of inorganic and, particularly by the markets, organic trash. But that is not unusual for many countries—in fact the only unusual thing about Albanian trash is that not a single piece bears the golden arches logo (which was clearly the most common litter in every one of the ten European countries I cycled through this fall). The simple reason is that Albania is one of the few countries in Europe that has no McDonalds. It has its counterfeit McDonalds called Kolonat that stands just across from the Sheraton and in the clear line of sight of Mother Teresa (her statue, that is—she was ethnic Albanian and is memorialized there in stone). Kolonat is complete with golden arches (though they are slightly pointed) and happy meals, but you search there in vain for a genuine BigMac or a hot fudge sundae or real American-style brewed coffee.

People do not seem to feel that littering is inappropriate, and it shows. However, that may be changing and there are encouraging signs. Household or restaurant trash, to be specific, is taken care of in a very reasonable way. Scattered around the city are large dumpsters.
They are accessible to everyone and everyone seems to carry their personal trash to them and deposit it there. They may not be sightly and in the summer may develop an odor, but at least that trash is concentrated and it is picked up very regularly. In fact it is picked up twice—first by Roma who dive in and gather glass and aluminum for recycling, then by the trash collectors who do a reasonably thorough job of cleaning up bins that have overflowed their borders. The trash is then taken to a main dump outside the city. Besides this there are some litter bins scattered about, and some people use them. And every day people appear early in the morning to clear dust and trash away from the front of their stores (something they will do several times during the day), while others greet the dawn by cleaning the common streets. I think there is a growing awareness on the part of some of the need to do more, and I think it is helping and will help even more in the years ahead.

Having said that, if I had one trashy suggestion to offer Albania it would be for them to follow the Irish. By this, I mean for them to ban plastic bags, particularly those that food purchases are put in. I once bought a loaf of bread (wrapped in plastic, of course), and motioned to the market clerk that she did not need it put in a second plastic bag. She was indignant and the best interpretation of her broken English that I could make was, when in Albania, do as the Albanians do—she would not allow me to leave her store without the bag in a bag. I find this everywhere. Store personnel are personally offended if you try to refuse a plastic bag, and they simply will not allow it. At the major shopping center of Tirana I purchased a CD, and when I indicated to the clerk that I would put it in the laptop computer bag I was carrying she was dismayed. Such a thing would never happen on her watch! And those bags account for a considerable amount of the total litter of the nation. The ban has made a huge difference in Ireland, I know it would in Albania. And I also know it would in America as well…

In writing pieces for this blog I try to put a bit of spiritual message in each time. Not because I feel obligated, but because I honestly see the message in the topic. Doing that for trash may be a bit of a stretch, but I don’t think so. I believe that when God gave humanity stewardship over the earth (…The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it…Genesis 2:15), he did so with the intent that we would tend to it with loving care, reflecting his care for us. God did not put us over the rest of creation with the understanding that we would abuse it by greed or ignorance. Environmental health ought to be the concern of every person, particularly believers and particularly those in the United States where we use so much of the world’s resources. And that means less trash and better management of the trash that must be…

Let me introduce you to a famous person. His name is Spartak Hamiti. He has been interviewed in the local papers many times, been on CNN twice, and been the subject of many other interviews and articles in papers around the world. But you probably do not recognize his name—despite his notoriety and his multiple citations in Guinness Book of World Records.
His fame comes because, in his own words, “In the feet-carrying of the football and tennis ball Spartak Hamiti has established these World Records:…Football (soccer ball to us)—18 km, 106 meters while walking…Tennis ball— 2km, 609 meters while walking…Tennis ball—1 hour 32 minutes while standing… In addition a Record (not World Record) with football of 6643 touches while standing.”

Nancy and I met Spartak while walking in the main park of Tirana the other day. He recognized that we were foreigners and initiated a conversation. Actually it is more accurate to say that he insisted on a conversation. That conversation, in pretty good English, quickly turned to his fame and its reasons, and the interview he was so eager to give, along with a demonstration of his skills, was scheduled for today.

To be more explicit—Spartak has walked over ten miles while keeping a soccer ball in motion and off the ground the entire time, using only his feet. And he has done the same with a tennis ball for nearly 1 ½ miles. And, while standing still, he has kept a tennis ball in motion and off the ground for 1 hour and 32 minutes, kicking it from foot to foot all the time. And, also while standing, he has kept a soccer ball off the ground with 6643 consecutive “kicks”. All of these records were done in front of three accredited judges so that the accomplishments would be verifiable and recorded by Guinness.

I know this is true because my new friend Spartak brought with him a copy of the certificate from Guinness and a copy of a newspaper article with his photo, both to give to me. And, when we met today he was insistent on giving me an example of his skills with both the soccer ball and tennis ball, although the example was short and to the point. Among his skills is the ability to kick the tennis ball 20 meters (60’) into the air and catch it with his foot on the way down, but he did not show this as the park is quite hilly and any mistake could put the ball in the lake.

Spartak is well known in Tirana. A local friend described him as a character, and he certainly is that. He also has a message with his unique skill. He said he worked many places without success, but in the end set a world record in kicking balls by working with passion and will. He told us that he began at the age of “two months short of 8 years”, when at a communist pioneer camp he was required to display some talent in front of everyone. He went on to say that these ingredients, passion and will, are the keys to reaching the top of anything… Pretty wise advice I would say. They remind me of Jesus’ call to commitment—passion and will being two important ingredients.

When we met today Spartak was not only eager to show me his accomplishments, but also eager to tell me about his life. He said that if you know my life you know Albania. That is a pretty lofty statement, but as he unfolded the part I heard today (the sun set and we had to stop, but we will resume) it makes sense. Today’s saga was about his father. A commander in the Army of Liberation (against the Nazis in 1944), he rose to a position of prominence under the former communist dictator. But that dictator had a paranoid fear of people with talent and strength, and under the guise of rumors of sabotage in the oil industry where his father worked, eliminated the skilled leadership in that field. Some were killed, some jailed, some exiled to villages, and others, like his father, demoted and disgraced. His father lived long enough to be a pensioner and died a natural death, and in his obituary it was written, he was not a reptile—a contrastive tribute to him as a man of decency and integrity during a very troubled time when the same could not be said of many.

Spartak and I parted today with assurances that we would meet again, and we will. He gave me his phone number so I could call him, but that will not be necessary because he is in the park every Tuesday and Thursday, and most Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. This is not completely unusual because many men his age are there regularly to meet, chat and play dominoes. But Spartak is there because he has a small group of boys from the outskirts of the city that he is teaching to kick the ball, that is to play soccer. They come from troubled homes and are poor, but they have a coach who cares for them and who has not just one but three world records. They have a coach who got them by working with a passion and a will, and a coach who hopes that just maybe he can help them learn the same values and accomplish something important with their lives…

As I reflected on my short time with Spartak, having learned about records and lives and history, I began to realize that while Guinness and CNN will take no note, and while he may not realize it, Spartak’s work in the park with a few boys may be the most significant accomplishment of his life. I am sure that this work is worth a lot more than what many people work all their lives to achieve and by which many measure success. And I wonder if this isn’t another lesson, and challenge, that Spartak has for us—a lesson not about kicking a ball (which is impressive!) but about what we do with the talents we have, and what it means to invest them in other people, and the kingdom of God…