Avash avash

Tirana by night

Treat this as your postcard from Albania. Especially if you haven’t had one from us. It’s a sunset view from Mount Dajti looking west over Tirana to the sea.

(Returning to the city involves travelling in a full and rather small swinging cable-car for 15 minutes in near darkness.)

I was reminded on this excellent website (a friend of a friend’s), that there are techniques in cognitive behavioural therapy which help in breaking cycles of bad thinking. I find travel does wonders for breaking cycles of anything to be honest. Who needs laws about car seats and seat belts? Why can’t bacteria multiply more slowly if they can’t speak English? Who knew you could park four deep on a roundabout? And does it really matter when you have two families in a one family car? The roads are mostly finished, right?

In fact, the philosophy in Albania – a trip we’d planned months ago – works perfectly if you are not trained to NVQ level 5 in UK Health and Safety Nonsense and generations of British Proper Ways To Do Things. The local expression is avash avash, which means slowly, slowly. It is perfectly ok to ask another driver on the other side of the road for directions if you are lost, even though you’ll both have to stop. It is fine to cross the road when the green man indicates your right of way, even when the traffic is still coming, as they will probably stop for you. Slowly, slowly. Keep plodding; you’ll get there.

We had made plans to visit two sets of friends. Primarily we went to visit friends I made during my Masters at another time in another capital and who we last saw at our wedding nearly ten years ago when Mikea was three and was our page boy.

…then and now…

(reading one of Stephen Davies’ novels)

Since then Gjystina and Fredi have had daughters, and we were delighted to meet the beautiful Prishila and Reona, and were amazed at the family’s grasp of English, hospitality despite difficult personal circumstances and utter trust in God for provision and purpose. The family took us to some wonderful places which were within my coping range. In temperatures hitting 40 degrees they also adapted and allowed for our children by finding cooler spots with play areas, museums and fun activities. We saw beautiful beaches and mountains, castles and vistas. We were challenged by their church plant, moved to help with their building relocation, shocked at the burdens they are carrying and delighted to find God working in our lives as well as theirs as I stepped out of my comfort zone in clear and direct answers to prayer and was able to begin ministering to others in my own small way.

There were miles of furniture shops, hundreds of red and black Albanian flags and pizza outlets on every corner. The swimming pools were glorious (Lily’s favourite part) and the byrek crisp and tasty. Everywhere people wanted to touch the children’s hair, to clasp their faces and to remark in internationally recognisable tones how beautiful they thought Lily and Joe to be. Not wanting to disagree we made internationally recognisable agreeing noises and smiled a lot.

The second family we were visiting were a university friend Rob and his Albanian wife Mira and their lovely baby daughter Emily. Rob was part of a team I once organised to help do some building work on a Hope Centre in northern Croatia, and his love of the Balkans and the people of Albania has led him to integrate so well into local culture and be respected there for his work.

So we really didn’t want to miss out on meeting up with these two remarkable families, especially as they are people who bless those around them, rather than draining them. We wanted to bless them with tea-bags, encouragement, books and opportunity. Despite challenges we found safety in letting go and learning the slowly, slowly mentality. In making decisions late, in not worrying about waiting and in finding the humour. God truly has been good to us this week.

I am not out of the woods. The cycle got a great jolt from this most unusual week, but I am having to work to fight negative patterns and am not ‘fully operational’ so am integrating gently into the world back home. We have others to see and more to do in these next weeks before Lily goes back to school, but I know how I’m going to tackle it.

Slowly, slowly.