As in most American families, baking is a holiday tradition. Not just for your family, but for others. My mom goes crazy at this time of year as our kitchen explodes with cakes and cookies. Seemingly everyone gets a “goodie plate”: the mailman, the postal workers at the post office, neighbors on all sides, etc. To bring that tradition with me to Albania, I made a huge amount of cake and cookies for teachers and students last year. This year, I spent three hours making a big chocolate cake, homemade buttercream frosting and “modified” cookie press cookies. I say “modified” because only after I made the dough did I realize that the cookie gun my host mom didn’t even know she had didn’t work. To add some extra flair, I used the food dye that my mom sent in a care package which really ooed and ahhed my colleagues.
Despite the warm weather, I’ve had a great set of holiday-related events. It started on Wednesday when I brought my baked goods into school and set up the plates in the teachers’ room. There’s something uniquely enjoyable in watching people talk and laugh while eating something you’ve prepared for them. To me, cooking and baking have always been about the joy of making something for someone and sharing it together. I’m glad that I could do something nice for my colleagues, people that I might not always understand but always appreciate and, for the most part, respect. They’ve added value and meaning into my time here.
Built into the Albanian languages are a number of wishes or hopes that speakers share with each other. When you enter someone’s house, they say “mire se erdha,” which means “nice that you came.” The response is: “mire se u gjeta,” or “nice to find you here.” In regards to cooking, there are also some wishes. If someone makes something good, you tell them: “te lumshin duart,” or “bless your hands.” They may also say “kerko nje burre te mire,” which means, “may you find a good husband.” Not surprisingly, the importance of family to Albanians is evident in their blessings. When I brought the cake in for my colleagues, I heard a new one: “ne dasem,” which means “may you be married soon.” In my host mom’s office, someone said I should have “no trouble finding a husband with the way that I cook,” and someone said, “or the fact that they could get a visa from me [because of my American citizenship].” It’s a long-running joke that all Albanians want from Americans are visas and residency.
The next day was the last one before the break. Some of my students were in my host mom’s office making copies and they invited me to a dance they were having that evening. I said I would think about it but didn’t have any intention of going. Later in the evening, one of my best students called me and asked if I would go. I was hardly in the position to say no, and since there are so few opportunities to do anything at night, I decided to get out of my comfort zone and go for a little. I’m so glad I did because I had a great time! All the students were dressed to the nines. The event was held at a beachside restaurant where they had snacks and drinks before the dance started. Once we went into the restaurant and the party started, I sat with the geography teacher and her sister. We got dinner on the house – and it was amazing: a huge bucket of mussels and assorted fruit of the sea; 3 sea bass with carrots and potatoes; and risotto with fruit of the sea. There have been many times in Albania where each time another plate comes out, I think and hope it’s the last one. By the time the actual last one rolls around I am filled with relief. A great evening overall, even though they barely let me leave at 10:30 because it was too early.
The next day was the teachers’ party at a local restaurant. The weather was sunny and in the low 60s, so I got to wear a skirt for Christmas. I think that’s the first time this Pennsylvanian has ever done that. My host sister did my hair and makeup, and when I got to school, the teachers made me take off my jacket and turn in a circle to show what I was wearing. I’ll write a separate entry about workplace fashion shows because it deserves its own separate entry. I had yet another amazing meal (shrimp in red sauce) followed by lots and lots of Albanian circle dancing. A nice bonding time with colleagues, no matter how poorly I might dance.
Now to the big question: what do you do on Christmas in a Muslim country when most of your friends are away? My host sister and I went to City Park, a huge shopping mall that’s a year old. Miracle of miracles, it has a huge indoor ice skating rink as well as a nice grocery store; a great German version of CVS (Rossman); and air hockey and foosball tables. What more could I really ask for? Oh, and there’s also a fast food restaurant that is trying so hard to be McDonald’s (Kolonat). Yes, maybe this is cliché or too American but… on the other side of the world, sometimes you want to feel at home.
“Thank you for the best Christmas ever,” my host sister told me. No, thank you.
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