My 2 days in Tirana were just what they should have been. A Saturday stroll, a failed attempt at a night out, a Sunday drinking bender, and a Monday morning reflection.
As we hit the southern part of Montenegro I started to translate words, and I have no doubt that the crew I was with was so tired of hearing me point out buildings, or words, or random cultural things I had forgotten about. From hanging stuffed animals to ward of evil spirits, to New York license plates.
We passed my old school, now painted a creepy shade of yellow, a college, and seriously unrecognizable. I kept questioning myself. "That's my old school...wait...not it's not, huh? Oh yes, that was it because this is where I nearly died everyday on my way there."
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| Home |
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| Typical Breakfast with Scott before explorations |
As we turned down my alley, Jen commented on how nice the cafe on the corner (where my dumpster used to stand tall) looked. I pointed out my stairs and the gang decided that I lived in the ghetto, which is hilarious, because that is still my favourite apartment I've ever had. We walked out into the front and enjoyed a coffee at my little cafe/tea place.
That night eating Mexican I noted how much the city had even changed in the year I was there. It was a top speed transition year. Mexican food, Chinese, burgers, brunch places, different beers, malls, all built up from nothing.
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| Old Duff Bar |
The next day, after a coffee and a shopping run to search for pants that fit and to stock up on Chimay to take back to Montenegro, we headed for some brunch and met some teachers from an IB school. As we sat and talked we ordered drink after drink, and I reminisced about how typical it was for a Sunday in Albania. We left one bar and headed to the next, Duff (which has a new location) that I had discovered with the boys a few short weeks before I left. I entered and immediately spotted the packer helmet that originally drew us into the place. I had my usual flavoured mojito and beer. The final stop for the evening was Brauhaus for a Red ale. This place was insanely empty in comparison to it's usual evening hubbub.
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| New Duff Bar |
I was surprised as we walked home and found street after street shut off. After asking the police officer he told us it was a weekly bike celebration. It included live music, which was, of course, blaring loudly over the call to prayer.
The next morning I woke up and after my friend cancelled our coffee date for personal reasons I opted to head out for a walk in my old neighborhood. I began at the thrift store on Zogu I Zi, where I did most of my shopping, followed by a quick walk past the Umbrellas (now umbrellaless) where I did my happy hour drinking and quofte eating. I checked for the little old lady with red hair, but didn't see her.
Then a quick turn down the alley that became our true stomping grounds. I walked past the petulla place and contemplated stopping, but I knew 8am was too late for the good warm petulla.
Then onto New Grocery store, booming with customers, past dusty bin lady, and watermelon lady (no longer there) on to downstairs dude, and the entrance to the apartments. Then eventually I had to do a double take, because I just couldn't find the Art Studio anywhere. Turns out it's gone. A former art gallery made into tailor shop.
At this point I began to feel it. The way life transitions and evolves. I walked past Jimmy's, now expanded, with more chairs and tables. Memories just kept flooding my mind. Like the time we watched the football match on the large screen at the bar on the corner, or taking pictures in front of Villa 31 my last night there. As I reached the place, our place, and saw what it had become I thought how perfect of a symbol it was for what my life became when I left.
Once a tree with a hole, but with importance and meaning, I moved on to Indonesia and became a worthless square of trash. And this is the point where I really had to hold my shit together, because I really do wonder who I would be if I had stayed.
I don't regret leaving. Moving to Indonesia had a major role in my life, and I needed that, to get where I am now. And where I am is so happy and amazing.
Tirana was meant to be my home for a few years, but it became so much more than a "home". I found myself while wandering the streets, dancing in the alleys, day drinking at the bars, eating the street food. I found myself in the way I was thrown drastically into situations that made me uncomfortable and forced me to see that the world was so much more than I had experienced. Tirana is where my story began and where my dreams started to grow into something larger than life.
So I said goodbye for a second time. This time a little easier because I am learning to trust the world, and the opportunities it gives me. I never intended to return, but I am so glad I had this chance.
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| rooftop drinks |
