I have been back in Albania for almost 2 months now, but it still feels like I just stepped off the plane.  I remember having a lot of time to think on some of the most excruciating flights of my life (and let me remind you that includes flying back to America with a broken foot and some lengthy trips to Asia).  As I sat in my middle seat in between two men with enough cologne on to make me choke when I took deep breaths I thought about what going back would feel like… Would I pick the language back up?  How would my new apartment be?  Could I transition back to life in Albania after having it so easy in the states?  Would I be able to get any work done at the directory?  Was my foot healed enough to be going back?  Was I crazy for wanting to go back?  These were just some of the questions I was mulling over during my flight across the Atlantic.

I knew it would come down to just going for it and rolling with the punches, but long plane rides have a way of making it all too easy for me to get inside my head, over analyze, and psych myself out.  So, by the time I landed in Germany to get my connecting flight to Albania my nerves were in full gear and the butterflies were not going anywhere anytime soon, not to mention I was exhausted after almost 24 hours of traveling.  I had a long layover in Germany and sat in the terminal trying to calm myself down, take deep breaths, listen to music, think about all the positives of returning to site, yada yada yada.  It wasn’t working.  So I just sat there staring out the window in a sort of daze.

More people starting arriving and at first I barely even noticed.  First, I remember noticing the teenage boy near me dressed in skinny jeans and a typical t-shirt many Albanians were wearing before I left (t-shirt saying: “boy I love my trouble love”) because he was blasting music from his headphones (the pop music I hear every day in Albania), and then I felt eyes staring at me.  At first I thought it was just because I was a girl alone with a weird brace on her foot that probably looked like she was one the verge of either crying or falling asleep, but then I realized this was no ordinary gazing.  This was the gaze Albanians will often give you, I wouldn’t even try to explain it, but believe me I quickly remembered the difference.  Finally after trying to pretend I didn’t notice their looks, I engaged with one of the ladies sitting directly across from me.  It was at that moment, as the title of this post indicates I just had to go for it and rip off the band-aide.  She spoke only Albanian and was surprised when I said good afternoon in Albanian, then she assumed if I know “good afternoon” then I must speak Albanian so she started rattling off questions, some of which I understood and some where I relied on the phrase I will likely never forget, “nuk kuptoj” (meaning I don’t understand).

On some level this interaction was almost more frightening than when I met my host family for the first time because I was eased in to meeting my family in many ways.  Back in March it was all new and exciting, I knew I was going to have support for 10 weeks to learn the language, and I had expected to look like an idiot and know nothing.  However, even though this lady was perfectly sweet and just interested in why I was going to Albania, I had no preparation and was frustrated when the words for things I used to know in Albanian were on the tip of my tongue and I just couldn’t remember them.  It was during that first conversation in the terminal I truly realized that even though I had ripped off the band-aide and there was no turning back that I still had an uphill battle.

There would be no more easy and casual chats with strangers in terminals or anywhere else for that matter for the next year and a half.  That may seem like a trivial thing - until you live it.  That lack of interaction, the inability to put your own personality into the words you are speaking, and often being treated like an unintelligent person because you don’t fully understand the language in a majority of your conversations is no small thing.

Yet, here I still am after two months so I guess life goes on right?  I am not going to lie, most days are still extremely difficult since I have returned to site and I feel like I am starting completely over.  It does help that even if the Albanian language is not my favorite thing about life here a majority of the Albanians I interact with are quite forgiving and understand I was in America for a significant amount of time.  As I wrap up this post I also want to mention another reason I am still here.  It is the support I get from other volunteers.  In addition to remembering my conversation in a German airport terminal I also will never forget the amount of love and support I received as soon as I stepped off the plane in Albania.  These people know who they are and I hope they know that even though I was in a sleep deprived daze and completely overwhelmed I appreciate their support and understanding more than they probably realize.  Life here is not easy, but like I said before I left to come back here, at least I am living life and not watching it go by… well most days at least!

 

OH Also!  My youngest brother and I have this sort of tradition of finding songs to highlight or remember parts of our lives and here is one that has really been hitting home and the band is awesome:  From Finner (Of Monsters and Men)