Venice, Italy
After arriving in Venice, the next adventure for me was to find my hotel. Normally, I'd hail a cab and be escorted to the front door. Venice has no vehicles. Everyone walks everywhere. So, I head off over the Rialto Bridge in search of my hotel. Sadly, I headed North instead of South. Forty minutes later, after wandering the picturesque streets and alleys of North Venice, I stop and ask the sweetest girl who was working a gelato shop for some help. I flipped open my wonderfully laminated, completely inaccurate tourist map and asked her where we were. She looked the map, smiled sweetly, and said, "Bad map." I smiled back, appreciating her honesty while agreeing wholeheartedly with her opinion. She walked with me outside and started giving me directions, speaking in English, and pointing and directing me back to where I had disembarked from the water taxi. However, once she reached the water taxi in her mind, she switched over to speaking in Italian. I thought I was understanding most of the directions...I could understand the words left, right and bridge. It was the word straight that I didn't understand and that word is very useful when following directions. Off I went and soon I found myself deep inside another section of Venice. So deep in fact, that I had walked clear across Venice and was now looking out towards airport. Sigh. I turned around and headed back to the starting point of my disembarkment from the water taxi. There, I stopped at a tourist shop which sold carnival masks and begged assistance from the friendly lady working there. She was able to direct me to the neighborhood I needed. It was actually quite sensible the way the streets are located. After each address is the neighborhood that the street is associated with. The neighborhoods are set up around squares. Just go to the square that shares the same name as the one listed after the address. Once there, you check every side street that branches off from that square. And then check each alley behind the side streets which branch off of the square. And then you check each dark, poorly lit corner of streets that branch off the alleys which branch off the main streets from the square. Systematically, I started checking each street off of the square, which was thankfully, still being lit up by the lights of an all-night pizzeria. The workers were taking a smoke break outside while watching me disappear down each street only reemerge a short time later from the same street. After my fourth reemergence from the side street, I decided it was time for a break. I stopped and chatted with the two men while I gulped down a liter of water. Finally, I pleaded with them to direct me to my hotel. They directed me two streets down and one alley over. They warned me that it was hidden around the corner behind the alley. In the end, I played a two hour game of hide and go seek with my hotel. The hotel put up a valiant, impressive fight, but I finally found it sitting majestically behind an alley, off of a side street from the square which bears its name. The hotel has been residing in this spot for over 500 years. It is truly a hidden gem.
Monday, March 30, 2015
Monday, March 2, 2015
These past three weeks have been spent helping the family plant their gardens. In addition to the 200+ olive, orange, and lemon trees, there are six additional gardens in which the food for the family is grown. This is typical of the way Albanians live. There are no lawns to mow here. Every inch of the Albanian property is occupied by a garden or fruit bearing tree. Sadly, even though they are using every inch of tillable land, most of the villagers simply cannot produce enough to feed their families for the entire year. The average income for all Albanians is around $320 month. Those people living in the cities have a better opportunity to obtain work and they also earn more than those living outside of the cities. The villagers live in unfathomable poverty.
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the school in the nearest village to us down the mountain. The school is a basic two story cinder block building, and at one time it had been painted a bright and cheery yellow color. All of the glass in the windows on the upper floor have been broken out of their frames. The windows on the bottom floor were all cracked and broken, but at least the glass was still in the frames. The classrooms are small. There is a small chalkboard, a teacher's desk, and about fifteen student desks and chairs. Off to the side, there is a small wood stove. If you can picture a 3 gallon bucket with a stovepipe coming out of it, then you have a good idea of how small their woodstove actually is. There was a plastic bag filled with sticks and small branches off to the side to be used as the fuel for the woodstove. The teacher had hand-printed the ABC's on notebook paper and had hung them around the border of the classroom, along with simple math problems. In the corner there was a live rooster hanging out in a canvas bag; someone had brought the rooster in to "pay" the teacher. We were inside talking with the teacher while the students were outside playing in the muddy courtyard. I cannot even begin to describe the "shoes" that the children were wearing. They were shoes in a prior life, but now they were just scraps of cloth and leather with holes in them attached to worn soles. We have contacted a foundation that provides shoes for the impoverished and are waiting for a reply. We are quite confident that this organization will be able to provide shoes for the children. The school teaches children up to the fourth level. Once girls reach the fourth level, they stop attending school out of fear of being kidnapped and sold into human trafficking. The boys at this same age are generally made to watch the livestock as it grazes on the free lands. One of the ladies from the English fellowship group works with girls who have stopped attending school. She comes to their homes and teaches them so they can continue with their education and break out of the crushing grip of poverty that has claimed so much of this country.
Yesterday, I went into town and went shopping for groceries in the open air market alone. After I finished my shopping, I wanted to get something to eat. I found many, many beautiful cafes, but was denied service because I was an unaccompanied female (It's a Muslim thing). I posted my frustration of patriarchal societies on Facebook and received numerous concerned emails from quite a few of you. I think I should elaborate on this to ease your concerns for my safety. Yes, as far as religious affiliation goes, Albania is majority Muslim. And by majority, we are talking in the 70 percentile. Most Albanians have NO religious affiliation due to the ban on religion mandated by the Communists. The Communists left (were forced out) in 1991, taking with them all of Albania's resources and mineral wealth. Most Albanians associate themselves as being Muslim because the Muslims came in, put a mosque in every town, and provided a stipend for the aged if they consented to sign a paper saying that they are Muslim. So, we have a country here that aligns itself with being Muslim, without ever really having practised the Muslim faith. The young people are the ones who are being influenced by the radical teachings. This is because the country is so very, very poor. There is no future whatsoever for these young people. It is extremely hard to make a living selling roasted sunflower seeds at the market. There are no jobs for them here. Doing overseas manual work is their only option. Naturally, they are enthusiastic when they listen to the anti-western rants of the radical Muslims. This is ironic, because it is the Communists from the East which destroyed this country and not the Westerners. So, to sum up, it is a very small number of Muslims here who fit into the religious "radical" category.
OK, so why was I alone? The mother and one of the sons in my host family were ill. We always go into town once a week for music lessons for the boys and to attend a home church. While we are there, we do all the shopping for the week, because getting into town is a BIG ordeal. First, we have to slowly drive over potholed, dirt roads (read: goat trails). In three places between here and the paved road, the one lane dirt road is collapsing into the ravine. We live on a mountain, so these roads are cut into the mountain with sharp hairpin turns to get down the mountains. The soil erodes easily and mudslides are frequent. There are two places where we literally stop the car and say a prayer to get us through safely. Once we hit the paved road, we have already spent 45 minutes coming down off the mountain. We have another 45 minutes to go. The total distance between our house and town is a 30 mile trip. Obviously, we only make the trip once a week, for safety reasons.
We had to go into town to get the staples....teenage boys eat a LOT of food. So, the father, one of the boys, and I set off for town. While the father and his son were at the music lesson, I headed over to the market, just like I've done for the past two months, but this time alone without the mother. The language barrier is not a problem as Albanian comes easy to my ears and tongue. I choose my vegetable stalls very carefully. Muslim men have long beards and I know to avoid their stalls. Even though it's only women who are shopping in the market, they still are rude to them. I finished my shopping and was hungry. In town, there are 3-4 cafes in every block. Each one of them is filled with men who are drinking espressos. Some of the cafes are mafia operated, some are Muslim operated. At none of them is a female to be seen. Females must be accompanied by a male to go into one of these cafes, unless she is a prostitute. As a western female it's particularly frustrating to me to be denied service based on the fact that I don't have someone with the "Y" chromosome accompanying me. It's OK for the women to do all of the shopping in the market, but women are not allowed to sit and enjoy a cup of tea in the same market. It was from this frustration that I vented on Facebook my dislike for patriarchal societies. I was quite hungry and was experiencing a "Snickers moment".
Although I am at risk each time I go into town, I am very careful to blend in and to be aware of my surroundings and I avoid situations and places that would put me at an increased risk of danger. Besides, my devotion for the day was on God's protection. It never ceases to amaze me how the devotion in my daily devotion book is exactly what I need to hear for that day. From Sarah Young's "Jesus Lives", these words were leaping off the page: "Do not fear, for I, your God, am with you. When trouble seems to be stalking you, grip My hand and tightly stay in communication with me. Trust and be not afraid, for I am your Strength."
Isaiah 41:10 "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will hold you up with my victorious right hand."
Isaiah 12:2 "Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation."
God promises to always be with us. He never breaks his promises. I know that my God is always with me, through the good and the bad. If anything should happen to me.....and I completely trust that nothing will happen to me......please understand that I have no regrets and that this has been the best season of my life. I am finally doing what I was created to do and I am very happy here. For those who do not know already, I will be coming home for two months this summer and then I will be returning to Albania for another year's mission. This is where I am meant to be for this period of my life. As for the many concerns expressed via emails....I am safe and I do not take chances when I am in public. There are no borders for me to accidentally cross into enemy territory. All aid and comfort is given to locals in the villages near to us and it is given to fellow Christians. We are familiar with the people we help. I really appreciate your concerns, as well as your prayers for our safety and health. Thank you all for the outpouring of love.
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the school in the nearest village to us down the mountain. The school is a basic two story cinder block building, and at one time it had been painted a bright and cheery yellow color. All of the glass in the windows on the upper floor have been broken out of their frames. The windows on the bottom floor were all cracked and broken, but at least the glass was still in the frames. The classrooms are small. There is a small chalkboard, a teacher's desk, and about fifteen student desks and chairs. Off to the side, there is a small wood stove. If you can picture a 3 gallon bucket with a stovepipe coming out of it, then you have a good idea of how small their woodstove actually is. There was a plastic bag filled with sticks and small branches off to the side to be used as the fuel for the woodstove. The teacher had hand-printed the ABC's on notebook paper and had hung them around the border of the classroom, along with simple math problems. In the corner there was a live rooster hanging out in a canvas bag; someone had brought the rooster in to "pay" the teacher. We were inside talking with the teacher while the students were outside playing in the muddy courtyard. I cannot even begin to describe the "shoes" that the children were wearing. They were shoes in a prior life, but now they were just scraps of cloth and leather with holes in them attached to worn soles. We have contacted a foundation that provides shoes for the impoverished and are waiting for a reply. We are quite confident that this organization will be able to provide shoes for the children. The school teaches children up to the fourth level. Once girls reach the fourth level, they stop attending school out of fear of being kidnapped and sold into human trafficking. The boys at this same age are generally made to watch the livestock as it grazes on the free lands. One of the ladies from the English fellowship group works with girls who have stopped attending school. She comes to their homes and teaches them so they can continue with their education and break out of the crushing grip of poverty that has claimed so much of this country.
Yesterday, I went into town and went shopping for groceries in the open air market alone. After I finished my shopping, I wanted to get something to eat. I found many, many beautiful cafes, but was denied service because I was an unaccompanied female (It's a Muslim thing). I posted my frustration of patriarchal societies on Facebook and received numerous concerned emails from quite a few of you. I think I should elaborate on this to ease your concerns for my safety. Yes, as far as religious affiliation goes, Albania is majority Muslim. And by majority, we are talking in the 70 percentile. Most Albanians have NO religious affiliation due to the ban on religion mandated by the Communists. The Communists left (were forced out) in 1991, taking with them all of Albania's resources and mineral wealth. Most Albanians associate themselves as being Muslim because the Muslims came in, put a mosque in every town, and provided a stipend for the aged if they consented to sign a paper saying that they are Muslim. So, we have a country here that aligns itself with being Muslim, without ever really having practised the Muslim faith. The young people are the ones who are being influenced by the radical teachings. This is because the country is so very, very poor. There is no future whatsoever for these young people. It is extremely hard to make a living selling roasted sunflower seeds at the market. There are no jobs for them here. Doing overseas manual work is their only option. Naturally, they are enthusiastic when they listen to the anti-western rants of the radical Muslims. This is ironic, because it is the Communists from the East which destroyed this country and not the Westerners. So, to sum up, it is a very small number of Muslims here who fit into the religious "radical" category.
OK, so why was I alone? The mother and one of the sons in my host family were ill. We always go into town once a week for music lessons for the boys and to attend a home church. While we are there, we do all the shopping for the week, because getting into town is a BIG ordeal. First, we have to slowly drive over potholed, dirt roads (read: goat trails). In three places between here and the paved road, the one lane dirt road is collapsing into the ravine. We live on a mountain, so these roads are cut into the mountain with sharp hairpin turns to get down the mountains. The soil erodes easily and mudslides are frequent. There are two places where we literally stop the car and say a prayer to get us through safely. Once we hit the paved road, we have already spent 45 minutes coming down off the mountain. We have another 45 minutes to go. The total distance between our house and town is a 30 mile trip. Obviously, we only make the trip once a week, for safety reasons.
We had to go into town to get the staples....teenage boys eat a LOT of food. So, the father, one of the boys, and I set off for town. While the father and his son were at the music lesson, I headed over to the market, just like I've done for the past two months, but this time alone without the mother. The language barrier is not a problem as Albanian comes easy to my ears and tongue. I choose my vegetable stalls very carefully. Muslim men have long beards and I know to avoid their stalls. Even though it's only women who are shopping in the market, they still are rude to them. I finished my shopping and was hungry. In town, there are 3-4 cafes in every block. Each one of them is filled with men who are drinking espressos. Some of the cafes are mafia operated, some are Muslim operated. At none of them is a female to be seen. Females must be accompanied by a male to go into one of these cafes, unless she is a prostitute. As a western female it's particularly frustrating to me to be denied service based on the fact that I don't have someone with the "Y" chromosome accompanying me. It's OK for the women to do all of the shopping in the market, but women are not allowed to sit and enjoy a cup of tea in the same market. It was from this frustration that I vented on Facebook my dislike for patriarchal societies. I was quite hungry and was experiencing a "Snickers moment".
Although I am at risk each time I go into town, I am very careful to blend in and to be aware of my surroundings and I avoid situations and places that would put me at an increased risk of danger. Besides, my devotion for the day was on God's protection. It never ceases to amaze me how the devotion in my daily devotion book is exactly what I need to hear for that day. From Sarah Young's "Jesus Lives", these words were leaping off the page: "Do not fear, for I, your God, am with you. When trouble seems to be stalking you, grip My hand and tightly stay in communication with me. Trust and be not afraid, for I am your Strength."
Isaiah 41:10 "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will hold you up with my victorious right hand."
Isaiah 12:2 "Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation."
God promises to always be with us. He never breaks his promises. I know that my God is always with me, through the good and the bad. If anything should happen to me.....and I completely trust that nothing will happen to me......please understand that I have no regrets and that this has been the best season of my life. I am finally doing what I was created to do and I am very happy here. For those who do not know already, I will be coming home for two months this summer and then I will be returning to Albania for another year's mission. This is where I am meant to be for this period of my life. As for the many concerns expressed via emails....I am safe and I do not take chances when I am in public. There are no borders for me to accidentally cross into enemy territory. All aid and comfort is given to locals in the villages near to us and it is given to fellow Christians. We are familiar with the people we help. I really appreciate your concerns, as well as your prayers for our safety and health. Thank you all for the outpouring of love.
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