UNIVERSITY OF NOVA GORICA
GRADUATE SCHOOL
CONTESTED SPACES AND NEGOTIATED IDENTITIES IN
DHERMI/DRIMADES OF HIMARE/HIMARA AREA,
SOUTHERN ALBANIA
DISSERTATION
Natasa Gregoric Bon
Mentors: Prof Borut Telban, Prof Duska Knezevic Hocevar
and Prof Sarah Green
Nova Gorica, 2008
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In memory of Vinko
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Contents
ABSTRACT 7
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 8
NOTES ON TRANSLITERATION 10
PREAMBLE 15
INTRODUCTION 26
Theoretical Frames: The Construction of Spaces and Places 29
Fieldwork Framers: Dhermi/Drimades of Himare/Himara Area 32
Dynamic Processes of Construction and Reconfiguration of
Dhermi/Drimades and Himare/Himara Area
37
Contested Places and Spaces 40
CHAPTER ONE
1. THE VILLAGE AND ITS PEOPLE
43
1.1. The Area 43
1.2. Geomorphological Story 47
1.3. Dhermi/Drimades 49
1.4. Ambiguous Name 52
1.5. Shifting Localities 55
1.5.1. Shifting of the “Local” 56
1.5.2. The “Local” and the “Other” – Distinctions and Interrelations 57
1.6. Languages 63
1.6.1. In Search of the “First Language” 65
1.6.2. Language and Education 67
1.6.3. Spoken Languages 69
1.6.4. Language as the Permit to “Enter” 70
1.7. Religion 71
1.7.1. Religion in Albania 71
1.7.2. Churches of Dhermi/Drimades 72
1.7.3. Religion and Everyday Practices 74
1.7.4. Religion and Gender 76
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1.7.5. Religion and Locality 77
1.8. Population: Shifting Numbers 78
1.9. Family, Linages and Clans 82
1.9.1. Ikoyenia or Familje 83
1.9.2. Soi or Fis 88
1.9.3. Ceta or Varka 91
1.9.4. Marrying within the Village 94
1.9.5. Inheritance 95
1.10. Summary 101
CHAPTER TWO
2. CONTESTED HISTORIES
104
2.1. Dividing People and Places 107
2.2. Mythohistories 113
2.2.1. Oral Accounts 113
2.2.2. Written Accounts 115
2.3. Different Views and Positions 117
2.4. Between the Contestations and Relations 122
2.4.1. Illyrian or Epirote? 122
2.4.2. Trading Overseas 124
2.4.3. Roman and Byzantine Empire 126
2.4.4. Construction of National Hero Skanderbeg 128
2.4.5. “Permanent Struggle” – Resistance to Ottomans 131
2.4.6. Movements of People 133
2.4.7. Ali Pasha of Tepelena 135
2.4.8. “Western” Visitors 137
2.4.9. Rilindja - Revival 140
2.4.10. Formation of the Albanian Nation-State and the Protocol of Corfu
(1914)
142
2.4.11. The First World War (1914-1918) 146
2.4.12. The Period of “Democratic Movements” (1920-1925) 152
2.4.13. Ahmed Zogu (1925-1939) 155
2.4.14. The Second World War (1939-1945) 159
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2.4.15. Communism (1945-1990) 163
2.5. Summary 165
CHAPTER THREE
3. THE SEA AND THE MOUNTAINS
169
3.1. Stories and Story-Telling 170
3.1.1. Remembering, Mapping and the Ongoing Reconstruction 171
3.2.Stories of the Sea and the Mountains 172
3.2.1. Stories of the Sea 172
3.2.2. Stories of the Mountains 176
3.3. From Places to Spaces and Back Again 178
3.4. “Whereness” of Dhermi/Drimades 182
3.5. Summary 188
CHAPTER FOUR
4. NEGOTIATING RUBBISH
191
4.1. Tourism on the Coast of Dhermi/Drimades 193
4.1.1. Cleaning the Coast 194
4.2. Before the Summer Season 195
4.2.1. Identification and Belonging 200
4.2.2. Manipulating the Citizenship 202
4.3. The Summer Season 204
4.3.1. Rubbish as a “Matter out of Place” 208
4.4. Summary 211
CONCLUSION 214
Silent Stories of Communism 218
Contested or Related? 219
APPENDICES 223
BIBLIOGRAPHY 238
SUMMARY/POVZETEK 251
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ABSTRACT
The main subject of this thesis is the ongoing, unstable reconstruction of space and place in the village of Dhermi/Drimades in Himare/Himara area, Southern Albania. Particular consideration is given to the process of reconfiguration and redefinition of the meanings that pertain to the village and its people. Thesis focuses on local peoples’ biographies, oral histories, rhetorical claims and their everyday discourses, through which it is shown how the
meanings of the village are reconstructed through their interrelations with other people and places. The underlying theme of my dissertation is the continuity of movements and interrelations through which the local people of Dhermi/Drimades recreate and reproduce the sense of locatedness of “their” village and themselves. My research question is formed on the premise that the international, national and local policies, historiographers and other researchers define these people and places as if they had existed and belonged to nation-state “since ever”. Through description of the village and its people (Chapter One) and through analysis of the contemporary historiography (Chapter Two) I show how the policies, historiographers, demographers and geographers in various ways and with various subjective interests conceptualise, categorise and locate the village and its people into a geopolitical map of the nation-states, as preordained and closed entities. In continuation (Chapter Three and Four) the local peoples’ stories, their biographical backgrounds, rhetorical claims and management of resources are represented to illustrate the manners in which local people themselves redefine and reproduce the meanings of the nation-states as hegemonic concepts, which enables them to reconstruct their sense of belonging and locate the village in the geopolitical map of the Europe and the world. These processes of reconstruction are always in a state of be-coming and constitute the spaces and places, with its meanings on the one hand revealing the differences and contestations between them, while on the other hand also showing their mutual connections and sameness.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
During my PhD training I had the honour and pleasure of working with a number of extraordinary people and institutions. I am grateful to be able to thank them here explicitly. Most crucial of course were and still are the people of Dhermi/Drimades, who allowed me to enter their village life. Special gratitude extends to all of the people of the central hamlet of Dhermi/Drimades for giving me so much of their time, sharing their stories, friendship and shelter. Here I would like to acknowledge the family of Thoma Kumi, who welcomed me wholeheartedly in the very first days of my settlement in the village. I also thank Niko and Boula Beli and other members of Belei soi/fis, especially Amalia, today married as Konomi, who introduced me to many relatives who live in the village and showed me the majority of the chapels in the village and surrounding mountains. I am grateful to Enea Kumi for his help with translations and all the explanations to my endless queries. I am bound to the family of Aristridi Iliadhi, of Marko Gjikopuli, to Lefter and Elsa Kumi, Foto and Katerena Bixhili, Kozma Papasava, Petro Dhima, Katina Cula, Doksia and her daughters, Athina, family Lavdoshi and many others whose names will stay unmentioned here. My appreciations extend to the villagers of Palasa where I conducted a part of my research. Soia/fise Verei, Niklei, Milei and Babei deserve a special mention here. I am indebted to my interpreter Juliana Vera who patiently helped me to understand, both local Greek dialect as well as Albanian language. She, her sisters and father always welcomed me in their home. Similarly, Nevila Kocollari Furhxiu and her family deserve a special mention here. They introduced me to the field and helped me whenever I needed them. Although I left too many stories untold, I hope that these generous people will recognise themselves in this text, and that my work will contribute to our future relationship and further discussions. Faliminderit shume/Euharisto para poli!
Fundamental for this project was a two-year funding from the Ministry of Education, Science and Sport which enabled me to do the research in the villages of Himare/Himara area. I am deeply indebted to my supervisors Borut Telban, Duska Knezevic Hocevar and Sarah Green. All of them patiently guided me throughout the writing of my thesis. Sarah Green was especially helpful with her comments on my observations from the field, which I was sending her while on fieldwork. Through her pedagogic touch and understanding she always found the way to present her comments on the first drafts of my thesis in a stimulating, constructive way. Borut’s critique and meticulosity made my argumentation stronger. And Duska always
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found her time to listen to my sometimes very chaotic thoughts and helped me to spell them out and find the sense in them. I thank them all for their help, comments and suggestions. My warm appreciation goes to various other people who supplied me with anthropological literature, provided me with various data and shared their ideas. Here I thank: Margaritis Gjoka, Kristaq Jorgji, Enkeleida Tahiraj, Juli Vullnetari, Stephanie Schwandner Sievers, Gilles de Rapper and Konstandinos Tsitselikis. I am grateful to my colleagues Liza Debevec for her useful and practical advises and to Sarah Lunacek, Spela Kalcic and Tina Popovic who found their time and interest to listen to my thoughts and monologues. I thank the faculty’s secretary Teja Komel for all of her help and my brother Jani for his assistance in map-making. I wish to acknowledge the loving support of my parents and my sister and her family. Immense gratitude extends to my husband Jure Bon, to whom I owe my greatest debt. I thank him for his assistance, understanding, intellectual and emotional support throughout my longterm absences and writing seclusions. Last but not least I also thank my father in law, whose life path ended before he could see the final result of this research. Therefore I dedicate this thesis to the memory of Vinko.
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NOTES ON TRANSLITERATION, PSEUDONYMS, KINSHIP
ABBREVIATIONS
Transliteration
Throughout my thesis the words in Albanian language are written in italic, the words in local Greek language are written in italic and underlined and the terms that signify Ottoman Turkish administrative units are underlined. When transliterating the terms of the local Greek dialect I was guided by the pronunciation of the Modern Greek words as appear in the Oxford Greek Minidictionary (2002).
Aá a Éé i, e Ññ r
Ââ v Êê c, k Óòó s
Ãã g Ëë l Ôô t
Ää d Ìì m Õõ i, e
Åå e Íí n Öö f
Ææ z Îî x ×÷ h
Çç I, e Ïï o Øø ps
Èè th Ðð p ?ù o
Diagraphs
áé ai oõ ou íô nd or d
áõ av ãê g åõ ef or ev
åé ei ìð b oé i or oi
When transliterating the Albanian terms I was guided by the pronunciation as it appears in the
Albanian-English-Albanian Dictionary (Hysa 2004). The letters that do not appear in the
English alphabet are pronounced as follows:
c ch as cherry ll ll as all th th as the
dh dh as this nj ny x g as jail (j is soft)
e ? as girl q ch as cherry xh g as ginger
gj j as jaw rr r (sharp r) y i as in this
l L as like sh sh as shoe zh zh as measure
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Pseudonyms
To keep the anonymity of my interlocutors I changed their names as well as some of the information of their life-stories that are not important in the following discussion.
Note on Kinship Abbreviations
I have adopted the following conventions:
B = brother M = mother
D = daughter S = son
F = father W = wife
H = husband Z = sister
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Map of Albania (National Geographic Society 2006)
13
Map of the Himare/Himara Area (National Geographic Society 2006)
14
Dhermi/Drimades (Foto: Daniela /rachel/ Vavrova, August 2005)
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PREAMBLE
Anthropologists have become increasingly aware that ethnographic representations are not simply “about” such social processes as place making and people making but are at the same time actively involved in such constructions (Gupta and Ferguson 2001: 23). Gupta and Ferguson (2001 [1997]) suggest that the choice of the location of anthropological fieldwork constitutes and shapes the way of ethnographic representation and leads to the choice of theoretical approach for analysis of ethnographic data. Therefore I open my thesis with Preamble instead of Introduction. I will try to explain to the reader some of my personal experiences, especially from the earlier days of my fieldwork in Southern Albania and provide him or her with a closer look at the village and its people. Preliminary Visit 9th September 2004. On a sunny autumn day my interpreter Entela and I took a trip to the villages of Himare (official, Albanian name) or Himara (local Greek name) area of the southern Albanian coast. Entela and I set off from the sultry and smoggy town of Vlore late in the morning. I was introduced to Entela by my colleague Sanila, a lecturer at the University of Vlore to which I was affiliated during my research in Dhermi (official, Albanian name) or Drimades (local, Greek name). I met Entela a few days before our trip to the Himare/Himara area.
According to Sanila she was one of her best students who had just graduated in English and psychology. Entela’s decision to accompany me on my pre-fieldwork voyage to the villages of Himare/Himara was rather exceptional as the majority of single women (i.e., over 18 years old) in Albania are generally not approved to wander around on their own or in the company of a “foreigner”. To my queries as to why this is so, many people offered an explanation that after the fall of communism and the civil war in 1997 people living in Albania became aware that nothing is safe and secure. Regardless of the social, political and economic changes that took place after the collapse of communism many things remained the same, that is “conservative” or as some Albanians would say fanatike (fanatic).
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Therefore, it was definitely not common for a single Vloran woman such as Entela to accompany me – a young foreigner – on my pre-fieldwork trip to the villages of the Albanian Riviera. Entela explained that a young single woman should always be accompanied by a relative and should certainly not be allowed to wander around with strangers in the evening. Entela went on to explain that it is very impolite to stop people on the streets, let alone shake
hands with men. Due to these unwritten rules of “proper behaviour” her elder, unmarried cousin, decided to take us to Himare/Himara in his black Mercedes-Benz, which happens to be the most common car on Albanian roads. His reasons for driving us were several. One that seemed quite important was that he was concerned about his cousin’s sexual chastity, very much related to his family’s honour. Namely, if Entela got involved with a man without later marrying him it would be extremely shameful for their fisi. Entela as a young single woman was not considered to be responsible for her own deeds. Entela’s cousin drove fast along the winding coastal road covered with muddy holes. In this sense he was no different to the majority of Albanian drivers. He decided to take us on a “tour” through the remarkable landscape of Himare/Himara. Sitting in the back of the newest model of Mercedes Benz I felt like a very important guest that was being led through the remarkable and in many ways still unspoiled beauty of the coastal Bregu area. Feeling a bit embarrassed by my “new role” I could not hide my joy while driving through the stunning landscape of the Dukati valley. After I spent several months in Dhermi/Drimades I was told by the villagers that Dukati used to be a prosperous place where the Dhermian/Drimadean women exchanged their various goods for wheat. Because in Dhermi/Drimades – just as in the entire Himare/Himara area – the quality of soil is relatively poor, people living there had often endured drought and famine. Therefore, the village women were forced to travel across the mountains in order to get some wheat which was scarce in their area. Nowadays, the village of Dukati, which is located in the valley, is divided into two parts by the Shushice River. The old part is situated next to the river while the new part is located closer to the road. Because of its location by the river, the old part of Dukati village is green and fertile. The surroundings boast with large brown patches of wheat and corn fields that had already been harvested at the time of our drive. The entire valley in which the village is situated is closed and “protected” by the mountains: the high Thunderbolt Mountains (Malet e Vetetime or
Acrocceraunian Mountains) on the east and the hilly green plains on the west. Its geomorphologic characteristics, relative closeness to Vlore, and its isolation from the sea
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were some of the reasons that the valley stayed relatively developed for millennia, and is today not as depopulated as other villages in the Himare/Himara area are. After a fast but pleasant drive through Dukati, the road began a slow ascent along twisting curves of the Cika Mountains. The curves multiplied and the road narrowed. Suddenly, after a few kilometres, a view opened toward green deciduous trees in the east and brownish-grey
mountains in the west. At about 800 metres above the sea level a mountainous landscape covered with pines appeared in front of us. While looking at the pine trees I had a feeling that some of them were sculptured by an anonymous artist. We drove over the mountain pass called Llogara. The mountain road, which led us through the villages, had recently been paved. During the World War I (1914-1918), when the region was occupied by the Italians, the cobblestone path was strengthened by the work of the prisoners of war from the Austro- Hungarian Empire. The road was paved later, during the period of communism in 1970, and repaired in 2000.
It was because of the good air at Llogara that the communist government decided to build a sanatorium for pulmonary diseases here in 1970’s. In 2000, after the renovation of the road, the mountain pass gradually turned into a small tourist place. Because of its pastures that have been used over the past centuries, including the period of the socialist cooperative, the area is famous for its lamb meat. No wonder that Llogara is crowded by small restaurants offering fresh lamb meat and various dairy products. As the place became famous for its “eating pleasures” even the regional bus drivers established a regular stop here on their journeys. As a newcomer to the area I could not be excused from this tradition. As I do not eat poultry and red meat, but only fish, I was not able to share the enthusiasm and gourmet pleasures over our meal, buke, which also means bread in Albanian. Of course, the actual bread was only a side dish, while the rest of the meal contained large amounts of lamb and boiled rice or pilaf. I was pleased to see that they also provided large portions of green salad, grilled vegetables and delicious, home made sour cream. After this great feast we returned to the shiny-black makina (car) and drove further up the windy top of Cika Mountains. The pine forest that surrounded us all the way uphill slowly began to clear up and opened to the sun rays and views over the mountain peaks on the east and the shining blue Ionian sea on the west. The spacious view made me stare in amazement. At that moment I understood the descriptions of numerous renowned foreign travellers such as Byron (1891), Pouqueville (1825), Lear (1988 [1851]), 18
and Leake (1967) who were similarly amazed by the view over the Bregu area and devoted passages to it in their writings. Today, some of these writers are well known to the inhabitants of the Himare/Himara area. Dhermi/Drimades 11th September 2004. It was Friday morning when a local taxi brought Entela and me to Dhermi/Drimades. As we settled in the Himare/Himara municipality, we rented a taxi in order to be mobile and visit all seven villages in the area. Upon our arrival to the village the taxi driver dropped us off in the middle of the road. Wandering around and looking for the village centre we saw an old woman coming towards us. Entela asked me if we should stop her and inquire about the village and its people. As my command of Albanian language was very poor at the time, Entela took the lead and greeted her. “Good morning lady. May we stop you for a second?” asked Entela in a gentle voice. The old woman, burdened with age and hardly walking, raised her head and looked at us. Instead of answering she asked: “Where are you from?” Entela explained that I am a foreigner from Slovenia and that she is from Vlore. She went on saying that I am interested in people’s habits, culture and ways of living. The lady replied that she had no knowledge of such things and that it would be better to go to the school where people familiar with these things could be found. Although Entela told her that we were not interested in “that” kind of knowledge, the old lady insisted that she was far too old to know about such things. Entela translated her answers and commented: “Oh dear, she can hardly speak Albanian… I guess she speaks
Greek like most of the people in Himare!” She suggested that we should leave her alone, go to the school and see what would happen. I agreed. When we wanted to thank the lady for taking her time for us and say goodbye, Entela asked me if she could ask her about her origin. I agreed and Entela asked the old woman: “Jeni e Shqiptare apo Greke?” (“Are you Albanian or Greek?”). The woman responded with a short “Vorioepirot”, bid us goodbye and left.
Entela translated the lady’s words: “She said that she is Greek!” I commented that her answer had actually been Vorioepirot (Northern Epirot). In an agitated voice Entela explained that this meant the same as Greek.
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Ethnographer, Naive Visitor, Spy: Delving into Village’s Spaces 4th January 2005. Exhausted and furious from a day of stressful exploration, Maria (my new interpreter) and I finally returned to our apartment that I had rented from an old couple in Dhermi/Drimades. It was one of those cold, rainy and windy early January evenings when I was still accompanied by Maria, a student of English language at the University of Vlore. Entela, who accompanied me on my pre-fieldwork trip managed to get a job in Vlore, so I had to find another companion for the early stages of my fieldwork. Maria lived and studied in Vlore. Because her father comes from Palasa, the neighbouring village of Dhermi/Drimades, where the majority of inhabitants speak the local Greek dialect, she was keen to hear and practice it1. Maria’s father, however, had some difficulties with letting his 25 years old single daughter to spend her winter holidays with me. Soaked by the rain and upset after a difficult conversation with the village teacher Andrea and his wife, who got suspicious about our arrival, Maria and I stepped into our apartment. Due to the electricity blackouts2 it was cold and dark. Without saying anything we went to our beds which happened to be the only warm places in the apartment. As Maria lay down, I lit a candle that threw a weird, annoyingly oppressing light over our room. I felt strange, confused and insecure.
In my thoughts that evening I returned to our morning visit to Lefteria and her husband. As we did not know anybody in the village we visited Lefteria without making any previous appointment. This was not in line with village “codes of behaviour”. Generally people are not used to unexpected visits by foreigners, especially young students of anthropology who pose strange and – from their perspective – suspicious questions. We knocked on Lefteria’s blue 1 Because of her father’s place of origin, which is along with other villages of Himare/Himara area in the mainstream public opinion in Greece as well as by official Greek policy considered to be of Greek origin, Maria is the owner of a “Special Card for Aliens of Hellenic Descent” (issued by the Ministry of the Interior in Greece). This card, in contrast to the majority of Albanian citizens, gives her the right to cross the Albanian- Greek border and enter any European Union country that is located within the Schengen area (an agreement among 30 states which are part of European Union and three non-EU members – Iceland, Norway, and Switzerland – which allows for the abolition of systematic border controls between the participating countries).
In 1998 (when she was almost 19) she moved to Athens where she worked as a housemaid in order to provide a financial support for her family in Albania. In 2000 she returned to Albania where she enrolled at University to study English Language and Literature. Since then she visits Greece every summer to work in one of the restaurants in Patra. During her stays in Greece (in Athens and Patra) she improved her Greek which differs from the local Greek dialect in Palasa, Dhermi/Drimades and Himare/Himara. 2 Due to the general energy crisis throughout Albania and because many users do not pay their electricity bills there are daily electricity blackouts lasting between four and six hours.
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iron door situated in the middle of a big cement wall and shouted a greeting. When Lefteria came to the door she could not hide her surprise to find us there. As my command of the local Greek was very bad Maria introduced us and asked if she had time for a chat. She looked at us with distrust. Following the village customs she invited us inside. Hospitality represents an important part of the people’s customary practices, even though they are nowadays not strictly followed anymore. Lefteria invited us into the living room of her old house that used to belong to her father. As he did not have any male heirs he left it to her, his eldest daughter, who after thirty-six years of living and working in Tirana returned to Dhermi/Drimades. We sat down on the old sofa which was similar to those in other houses. They were all made during the communist period. Lefteria sat on her bed positioned on the right side of our sofa. Her posture was in accord with the majority of village ladies of her generation: unnaturally straightened back, legs on the ground, slightly crossed, arms crossed in her lap. Neatly covered with a black scarf, tightened in a way typical for Bregu, Lefteria smiled and let us know that she was waiting for our questions. In proper Greek that sounded more Athenian than Dhermian/Drimadean Maria explained my research interests. After five minutes of introduction she asked Lefteria if she minded us writing down her answers. Lefteria had nothing against and we began with the interview.
While Lefteria was explaining the reasons for endogamy within the village her husband returned home. Seeing his facial expression it was obvious that he was not thrilled with our visit. When he entered the room, Lefteria stood up and invited him to sit on the armchair that was standing next to the sofa, facing the doorway. When he sat down she went to their newly furnished kitchen, located in the same room. She offered us some sweets, traditional gliko
(sweet fruits in syrup), and a glass of water. This kind of hospitality called kerasma is typical for some parts of the South Eastern Europe. Kerasma is always provided by the woman of the house, who serves the guests with sweets or lokumi (Turkish delight), gliko and drinks on a special tray decorated with a lace cloth. The drinks are either coffee and water or juice, liquor, brandy or raki/tsipouro. This kind of assorted offer always confused me as I never knew what I was supposed to take first. I was taught by Maria to take the sweets first and than the plate with gliko and finish off with the glass of water. After she served us, Lefteria sat back on her bed and recapitulated the
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purpose of our visit to her husband. He merely nodded. As I wanted to lighten our discussion, I asked him how the village men and women spend their day in the village. He answer was short: during the week most of the village men spend their time in kafenio where they chat, play cards and sometimes sing, while the women do the housework, cook and work in the garden. On Sunday they all go to church as they are very religious people. As I noticed that he was getting tense, I asked both what was their typical cuisine. At that moment Lefteria’s husband stood up and said that he did not have time to answer our questions as he had other work to do. On his way out he grumpily commented that Enver Hoxha had also asked them what they ate but later he sent them to Spac3. Luckily, Lefteria was not, or at least she seemed not to be, as annoyed as her husband. She kindly allowed us to continue with our interview which developed into a relaxing and easygoing chat. After an hour we left. From the smells that were spreading through the narrow streets we concluded that it was “lunch time”. It was one o’clock. On the way to our apartment we met two women carrying wood on their backs, tightened with a rope. Like most of the village women they were dressed in black and covered with black scarves. When they noticed us coming their way, they began to whisper to each other and by putting their hands in front of their mouths tried to make sure we did not hear them. We assumed that they had already been informed about our arrival in the village and that they were commenting on our strange and uncommon visit. When we came closer to them Maria and I greeted them and asked if they could stop for a second. Maria introduced us, explained our intentions, and asked if we could talk to them some day in their free time. The old ladies, whose faces were wrinkled from the wind and numerous years of work in the agricultural cooperative, looked older than they actually were (although they were 65 years old they seemed as if they were 80). Their immediate answer was that they were not interested in politics. Even though Maria told them that we were also not interested in politics, but rather in their habits and customs, we once again heard the sentences we had heard not that long ago: “Even Enver Hoxha said that he was not interested in politics and he asked us how we live and what we eat. But eventually he sent us all to prison!” The old ladies turned their backs on us and went away. We silently returned home and made our lunch. A pleasant village lady had given us a delicious fish a day before. Contrary to the old ladies she welcomed us in her house and 3 In the period of communism Spac was one of the worst state jails.
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treated us warmly. “Days cannot be all the same” we comforted each other and hoped that the forthcoming evening with the village teacher and his wife would turn out to be a better experience. The teacher Andrea and his wife, whom I had already met on my preliminary visit to the village in September, invited us for a drink in one of the bars on the coast. After the night fell, Andrea and his wife stopped at our place in their blue Mercedes-Benz and honked impatiently in order to get us out of the apartment. We put on our wind jackets in a hurry and just managed to jump into the car when Andrea speeded away through the narrow village streets, heading to the coast. He did not mind the slippery roads. The drive took us about one kilometre down from the village, which stretches on the hilly plain overlooking the entire coast. We felt quite good, smelling the coastal breeze and observing the waves crushing against the rocks. We were soon approached by a young shepherd-dog, guarding the property of its owner Behar. Behar came to Dhermi/Drimadhes 30 years ago. During the period of communism he worked in the village cooperative, but after its fall he became the owner of a restaurant and a small hotel. At the time, Behar’s little restaurant was completely empty, except for his family members. Behar stood at the counter, while his youngest son Romano, after whom the restaurant got its name, was enjoying the latest show of Fame Stories on one of the Greek TV channels. Behar’s wife and their older daughters were in the kitchen preparing supper. Andrea led us to one of the small rectangular tables in the corner and ordered drinks. “Ouzo for me and coffee for her”, he shouted in Albanian with an imposing stance, pointing to him and his wife. He took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and asked us for our orders while lighting a cigarette. We ordered tea and he quickly passed the word on to the bartender, again ordering in Albanian. He put his jacket away and leaned towards us, now speaking in the local Greek dialect: “We are going to Athens next week to visit our children. We are planning to stay there for a couple of weeks… in order to finish a couple of things”. He paused for a moment, inhaling the cigarette smoke before asking me if I would be prepared to take over his teaching in the local school, substituting his history lectures with the lectures of English language. I have to admit that I was quite pleased with his proposal, because I expected less favourable news when I noticed his serious attitude. I expressed my willingness to cooperate and said that this would be a great opportunity for me to learn Albanian. He then explained that my teaching would be a kind of a trial that would last until his return. After that he would
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consider the pupils’ reactions and reach a decision whether I should continue with teaching English or not. While we were talking about this, Andrea’s wife remained silent. She broke her silence a few minutes later. With a disagreeable expression, she turned to Maria and asked her where we had met before we came to the village. Maria was surprised to hear this kind of a question, but she willingly explained how we had met in Vlore and had taken the bus to Dhermi/Drimades. Andreas’ wife looked at her husband in disbelief. He, in turn, told us in a slightly upset tone: “I know all about you! I have spoken with the dean of Vlore University today and he told me! He told me that he knows all about you!” Since I could not understand everything he said after that, I was more or less helplessly looking towards Maria, noticing that she was becoming increasingly irritated. Before she could say anything, Andrea’s wife uttered another claim: “Didn’t you meet at Llogara pass, where she was waiting while you were brought there in a black makina?” This remark caused Maria to become even more upset. In a flood of words she nevertheless explained all over again everything about our relationship. When she finished, the couple looked at each other in a meaningful way, and Andrea said: “Both of you were chosen very well! The one who chose you really made an incredibly good job!” I did not understand anything that was said until later, when Maria translated the conversation to me, but I could guess from the expressions, gestures and loud voices that this was turning into an unpleasant misunderstanding, which could end in an open quarrel.
At that moment the village councillor Kosta came through the door. Our tense scene immediately changed and so did Andrea’s facial expression. He stood up and excitedly welcomed Kosta. Even before they sat down, Andrea was already ordering ouzo. “Ouzo for the boss!” he yelled to Behar, who was all this time standing behind the counter. I did not know Kosta at that time but was nevertheless happy to see him interrupt our painful situation.
Maria and I did not have a clue about what was going on. The flickering of the light awoke me from my reflections on the day’s events. “Electricity is
coming back!” said Maria cheerfully. But it did not last for long. Maria wrapped herself in a blanket and sat down on the bed. In the candlelight she again summarised our conversation with Andrea and his wife. This day was not really a day to be remembered. I did not know 24
what to say. My roaming mind was full of different questions: “What if these stories about spying are true after all? What if Maria is one of them, the chosen one?” Although such a thought seemed ridiculous, I could not let it go. I was going over the details of our trip, asking myself in doubt: “Is the purpose of my stay here really what I think it is, or is there something I am missing here?” The candlelight responded to my thoughts and grew darker. I tried to convey my feelings to Maria, but I could not utter the words in a sensible way. They just did not want to come out. As if they were supposed to stay inside and slowly poison me, leading me towards more and more doubts.
Writing
10th March 2006. Although I had read about these kinds of suspicions in many monographs (Herzfeld 1991: 47-49, partly also in Balinger 2003: 6, and Green 2005: 35-36, while her work was still in a manuscript) long before I set my foot on the field, my theoretical knowledge did not help me that evening. During the period of communism, and probably also during the reign of King Zogu (1928-1939), the word spy was very much part of the everyday life not only in Dhermi/Drimades but also elsewhere in Albania and the rest of the world. ctually I heard the word spiun (spy) quite often during my stay in Dhermi/Drimades. The villagers did not use it only for the people they did not know but also for other villagers who were at some point recognised as unpleasant or disagreeable. However, some of the suspicions were quite meaningful, at least in my view. For example, the conclusion reached by Andrea and his wife. Why had she suggested the Llogara pass as the rendezvous point for my meeting with Maria? Why was I “already there”, while Maria was brought in a black Mercedes-Benz? This did not seem to make any sense to me, as Vlore would be a much better place to meet and carry out plans of this nature. I could not understand the meaning of her suspicions until much later when I learned about the villager’s perception of their landscape. In their eyes Llogara is more than “just” a mountain pass. It constitutes a natural border between “us” and “them”. This is how it was portrayed by numerous other local people. During my conversations with the villagers I noticed several different and antagonistic views
and representations of their spaces, which often seemed to be imbued with land tenure issues, disputes over the construction of tourist facilities or allegations over suspected illegal
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activities. These antagonisms led me to entitle my thesis Contested Spaces and Negotiated Identities.
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