“What was your dream when you were 20?” That was a question our guide asked us as we were standing outside a huge derelict cement monument in Tirana, the capital of Albania. We’d spent the day touring and hearing a lot about the history and journey of Albania, a young country with more Albanians living in other countries than in Albania itself. A country where tourism has only really been built up the past 30 years. It was eye opening to hear more of the history, and it made me realise that this country is so much more than meets the eye. A country where the beaches and tourist area of Durres Riviera was packed with tourists, mostly from the Balcan area. A country where hospitality is ingrained in the culture, and where the friendliness of the people was noticeable.
After a pause to let us reflect over the question of dreams, for some thinking further back than others, our guide told us that for him it had been to own a pair of jeans. That simple fact said so much. Both of what he had walked through and grown up in, and also about the perspective from which most of the people live from. As we were having our guided stop, a young Roma boy was washing his clothes in the fountain nearby. On our arrival he was quite aggressive, but after some stern words from our guide, he went about his business. He didn’t look more than 12, though I imagine street life has kept him looking young, so he might well be older. And I found myself wishing I could talk to that boy about dreams. Knowing so very well that the aggressive “toughness” says more about the life he has to survive than who he really is. And I was wondering what he was dreaming about… What thoughts were in his head as he saw us tourists walking around “his” city, and if he ever longed for something other than what he was living.
Albania was a great experience. From visiting Berat, the “city of a thousand windows”, to riding the local bus where there were three people employed to keep it running; the bus driver, the ticket salesman, and the man who would check our tickets right after we had bought them. We were struck by the large number of young men who would be on the bus in the middle of the day, wondering if it was a reflection of unemployment, or simply the time of day one would travel to the place of employment with later hours of functioning.
On our final evening the hotel next to ours was hosting a concert with Noizy, a very famous Albanian rapper. Since our restaurant had a roof terrace with prime view of the stage, we joined a number of other people there and sat in anticipation to get a glimpse of this celebrity. As with any concert, the warm up performance went on and on, and then suddenly the heavenlies opened and it poured down with rain. All the sound equipment was promptly shut down, while people sought shelter. Most of the people on our terrace found shelter under some parasols, but we decided that since it was already late and we would leave early the next morning, that we would throw in the towel, and retreated in a swift manner to our room. About an hour later we could hear the sound of the concert recommencing, and although we never got a look at Noizy, we got to hear him through the walls of the building.
A week in Albania went by quickly, and yet brought a much needed dose of sunshine, warmth, and culture, as well as fresh knowledge of a people thus far unfamiliar to me, and the question of “what is your dream?” Because even if we are more prone to dream when we are younger, I believe that there is always an invitation to dream more for all of us.