Mjekësi popullore

When I first started to investigate Albania after my Peace Corps invitation, I found an old tourism video on Youtube. What fascinated me was the casual mention of Permet as the center of Herbal Medicine in Albania. I asked my Albanian contact about this, and he forwarded me a link to a report from USAID on the economic feasibility of Herbal Medicine in the post communist Albanian economy. As a practicing naturopath and acupuncturist, the prospect of learning herbalism while in Albania, I set my hopes on being assigned either near Permet or another region where herbalism was prominent. Being placed in Berat was an architecture admirers dream come true, and I was determined to see if this beautiful part of Albania also had an herbal tradition I could explore.

During my first week at my assigned school, I was introduced to Demokrat Keli. I was told he was a Mjekësi popullore, which is loosely translated as “folk healer.” In the States, we would call him a medicinal herbalist. My director and counterpart thought because I was a Mjekësi popullore from America, Demo as he preferred to be called, would have much in common with me professionally. With my broken Albanian and nearly three decades of herbal teaching and practice experience, Demo and I were able to communicate. He was anxious to start teaching medicinal herbalism in the schools in Berat. He was from Berat and has an active practice both in Permet and Berat. As I started my project for a school garden, I incorporated him into the initiative. I felt it was a way for him to not only share his knowledge, but get a foot in the door so to speak in terms of teaching herbalism to the children.

As I started to spend more time with him, I learned his personal story, and was intriguing. I asked if a friend could serve as an interpreter for a more formal interview and drew up a list of questions for him to review before our appointment. We met at the Berat Library, and an amazing biography that paralleled Albania's recent history emerged.

Demo was born at the beginning of the Hoxha regime. As a child, he was part of the Pioneer Youth movement, which for him in Berat involved hiking in the local mountains, summer camping trips learning survival skills and plant identification. It was during his summer days as a Pioneer scout, he started to fall in love with the local flora and fauna. As he will tell you, he knows the local mountains like the back of his hands. 

Demo is educated as a chemical engineer with an emphasis on textile dye and design. Berat is home to a textile mill that was part of the Hoxha economic plan where workers were given housing and work in a centrally located factory. Demo was a manager at the textile plant in Berat during this time. The isolation of the Hoxha regime resulted in limited availability of pharmaceuticals and few medical doctors. There was little awareness or concern for toxic exposure from the dyes from the central government, and any sort of complaining or documenting of problems could land one in a work camp or worse. Demo noticed a trend with the textile employees. One of the side effects of working with the dyes was increased kidney problems. From infections to stones, the worker’s kidneys seemed to be the leading cause of illness and lost productivity in the plant and surrounding community, with no options for any sort of treatment. As a caring person versed in the local flora and fauna, Demo turned to historical books he found at the local library as well as the traditional knowledge regarding herbal medicine to help his workers. He was so successful, he was considered “the Kidney man,” by locals. Demo boasts that there are no kidneys he has not treated in the Berat region. As a regular on local Berat TV after the fall of the communism, Demo has educated the public on his skills. According to him, he has earned the ire of local physicians who view him as harming their business when it comes to helping the people of Berat with regional medicinal herbs.

I had the deep honor of joining Demo on several walks in the local mountains to watch him in action. Demo travels with what I call a “magic bag” when he gathers herbs. He pulls out various clippers, a scythe and climbing tools from his bag while explaining the local plants. During one walk, he told me he had special secret locations he did not want others to discover where he collects various plants. His most successful method is to put a very realistic rubber snake across the path, which seems to deter hikers from following him into a hidden enclave. The other things Demo pulls from his bag were an herbal snake bite kit (an antique looking glass bottle with a dark herbal antidote and a tourniquet) and dog repellent fire crackers. Demo also has a long rope with which he lowers himself down cliffs to pick certain delicacies. 

On another occasions, I was able to visit Demo’s flat where I got to see his library and his home medicinal herbal artisan kitchen. He had numerous potted plants, tinctures macerating in large glass containers, and a closet filled with dried herbs. He told me he has clients from all over Albania and Greece, where he creates signature dried herb tea blends for various health issues. These wild crafted herbal formula's are wrapped in white paper packets, with the directions for dosages hand written on the surface. During larger artisan gatherings and festivals in Berat, Demo can be seen in the town center educating locals on his skills and selling herb teas. In the Summer months, he is a weekend regular amongst the artisans, selling his teas in the city center.

 A typical conversation between us entails him saying the Albanian vernacular for a plant. After very slow and difficult conversation trying to find something we understand, I will ask him what the Latin binomial for the plant is, to which he dutifully gives me an answer. I then try to decipher the Latin pronounced in his Berati dialect and repeat the name with an American accent, writing it out, to which he agrees this is what he is talking about.  During my interview, I asked him what his favorite herb was, he told me it was, (literal English translation) “snake bush.” After our now familiar language exchange, I figured out he was talking about Hypericum, for which the rest of the English speakers know as “St. John’s Wort.” When I asked him why he liked this plant, he said it was because it was so effective. He uses this plant for people who are depressed or stressed, as well as for trauma. Demo told me that the plant was used by the Illyrian physicians successfully for battle wounds. He said that “snake bush” was so effective, it actually helped the soldiers to get back into combat quickly, and was the secret to their battle successes. 

Demo has taken the medicinal herb garden project at the High School as the culmination of his life’s work. He plans to have the garden designed into six zones reflecting the different regions in the area of Berat. He is leading weekly lessons at the High School and regular walks in the local mountains showing the students the plants in their back yard so to speak and how to use them. One of my favorite visuals was after class, Demo was surrounded by students asking him questions regarding certain health issues. He was writing down suggestions on a stack of hand torn business card sized papers he keeps in his pocket, and inviting the students to join him on a walk.

Democrat Keli is part of a proud and ancient healing tradition in Albania. It is rewarding to see him interacting with a new generation. As the garden comes into reality, it will be interesting to see this new generation of herbal practitioners carry on this heirloom practice into a bright future.

Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

When I first was invited to join the Peace Corps in Albania, one of my concerns was being placed in a predominantly Muslim country. Not that I have any issues with Islam per se, but Christianity is part of my fabric, and I thought I might miss the presence of the religion of both my ancestors and my choice for two and a half years. I had an odd experience when I was in China, which was at the time still quite overtly communist and absent of anything other than some hints of Taoism and Buddhism through things like Temples and museums. I stopped dreaming and praying, which for me is quite unusual. I realized when I tried to analyze the situation, it was because for the first time in my life I was in a land that was not saturated with historic Christianity. For me, this was novel, and to be honest, very uncomfortable. Because of this, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to expect from living in a nation that I was told was so different from my own practice. What has met me here in Albania has been quite a  different mystery on all levels in terms of approaches to spirituality and religion. It is also something I feel Albania has to offer our world in these days of increasing tribalism and inter-religious strife.

If the historians are to be believed, the ancient peoples of Albania, the Illyrians, are the most antiquated of all Western civilizations. They are famed to pre-date the Greeks, and to be the authors of what we typically attribute to Greek Mythology. What is unique about the Illyrians in terms of documenting their effect on world history, is a glaring lack of written evidence, either through tablets, scrolls or an abundant repertoire of artistic objects. I am coming to learn that during the Greek and Roman times, there were thriving Jewish communities throughout what is modern day Albania, with major centers of learning and worship in Durres as well as my site of Berat. It is thought that because of the strong network of Jewish communities in the region, that the Apostle Paul was actually preaching to the Jews of the day, not the pagans. There are roads in Elbasan recognized as his foot paths for evangelizing in the first century after the Christ Event in Palestine. There are places in Berat that are also famed to be locations of some of his sermons to have been delivered on his tour. We learn through the Epistles and the Acts of the Apostles, that Paul traveled throughout Asia Minor and the Balkans. We hear often about initiatives in Macedonia, and I have seen the plain in modern day Macedonia called the “Paulruci” as evidence of his mission in the area.

Albania claims some of the first Christian communities on Earth. It was part of the Byzantine empire and ultimately fell under Muslim Ottoman rule in the 15^th Century. The local Sultans and Imams had a rather tolerant practice of Islam, and allowed the indigenous population to maintain their religious practises, but for a price of higher taxes.   Many Albanians at the time converted to Islam mainly for business reasons. Albania also welcomed many of the expelled Jews from Spain and other nation’s pogroms, contributing to the thriving communities along the coast. Throughout Albania's bloody history, locals had to band together to fight various invaders. I was told by a tour guide that fighting in so many conflicts, the populace did not have the luxury of separating themselves along religious communities. The banding of religious groups fighting common enemies resulted in centuries of inter religious coexistence and support.

When Albania came under the Hoxha dictatorship, he ultimately instituted a harsh form of forced atheism, destroying most of the Mosques in the nation, and a large number of Orthodox and Catholic churches. The Churches that survived were made into either storage facilities or military barracks. I was told by one of the Albanian Peace Corps staff, that Hoxha targeted specifically the Muslims and Catholics, killing most of the clergy, because he considered them to be smart and educated, but he left the Orthodox alone, because he considered them to be stupid and harmless. What followed the  purges was two generations of non-contact with the outside world, and the supplanting of religion with worship of the dictator and the state. My sector leader told me that during those times, the markets would stop selling items like nuts, eggs and sugar in mid December. These foods are traditional Christmas ingredients. After the New Year, the items would come back onto the shelves. If a person was fasting, they would be suspect of celebrating Ramadan. Another friend of mine informed me that while Christmas was basically obliterated for 50 years, the dictator did like the tree aspect of the holiday, so New Year Trees were allowed instead.

To be honest, I have appreciated not being inundated by the crass materialism that Christmas has come to represent in America. I have enjoyed, actually enjoying Autumn, without all the oppressive blaring of Christmas carols and red and green everywhere starting in mid September. No pumpkin spice latte in red and green cups here, no sir re, just a glorious Autumn ripe with harvest produce and all the glorious orange, red and gold that gets lost in the endless push to get one to buy stuff for December 25^th. I had no idea what to expect when it came to Christmas.

Since I live in the Southern Part of Albania, it has a larger Christian population, mostly Orthodox and heavily influenced by Greece, which has been helping to restore the destroyed churches and educate new clergy since there are no seminaries left in Albania. Much to my surprise and delight, decorations started to appear mid December in shops, cafes and city centers. This, I thought, is perfect, just right in terms of timing. 

At my host families house, it was fun to watch Ibrahim, a Muslim, dig out the Christmas tree and lights and watch him decorate the deck in front of my room. Slowly, more lights started appearing throughout the city as the days progressed on peoples windows and porches. Sarah, my host mom, has red Christmas balls on her kitchen cupboards, and a wreath on her front door. Poinsettias were at the florists, and fake trees sold everywhere.

The center of Berat erupted into a mish mash of customs all in twinkling lights. Since the sun sets here at 4 pm, it allows for a long viewing of decorations. What I found most adorable was the tree in the center of the square, next to a Santa hut and lighted sled the reindeers. 

People could take pictures with a Santa (quite thin my American standards) during regular hours. There was also a Nativity scene, done in Orthodox Byzantine style where people also posed for pictures. It wasn’t set up for that, as there were ropes placed to keep people out of the Nativity house, but people basically stepped over the ropes to pose in the center, between Mary and Joseph, but completely blocking the Christ Child. Such images reminded me somewhat of the donor paintings we often see in terms of religious images, but it was fun to watch all the same. I found it most amusing that everyone’s selfie pose blocked the manger as a “selfie” sort of supplanting themselves in place of the baby Jesus. I am sure there are profound psychological and spiritual underpinnings of such actions, for me it was just really interesting to watch.

Another aspect of local Christmas and New Year’s traditions is the consumption of Turkey or Gel Dita as this bird is called in Albanian. What I found particularly entertaining was the opening of the Holiday Turkey Market (my name, not anything formal) in front of one of the Mosques on the main road of Berat. Throughout the year, one can see flocks of turkeys roaming about the countryside, tended by what I would call “turkey herders.” In the Spring in the larger marketplaces, one can buy baby turkeys in large boxes, that one can take home and fatten up all year leading up to the holiday season. Starting in early December, the local turkey ranchers bring their birds to this one corner in front of the mosque. It was rather darling to  watch the turkeys strut their stuff in the front lawn of the Mosque, and observe people carrying the birds off after a bargaining session. I kept thinking of the holiday specials in my markets at home, where you buy $100 of groceries and get a free turkey, I was wondering what the marketing ploys were here in Berat. I was also wondering if this was some sort of fund raiser for the Mosque, again just my speculation but what goes through my mind as a pass these sorts of events as walking home from school. 

The schools went all out with Christmas programs, mainly singing secular popular American Christmas songs, which I found quite intriguing. Antonio, Erik and I hosted a Christmas party for the High School. We had Christmas card crafts, cookie decorating, and watched “Home Alone.” After a while, one of the teachers put on traditional Albanian folk music and the teens broke out into circle dancing. I had the honor of attending my schools Christmas Teachers luncheon, which was at this really amazing new restaurant in Berat. I had baked cookies for the teacher, my go-to-American cultural exposure of Oatmeal Raisin. I baked banana bread for my counter part and my director for their Christmas gifts.

One of the volunteers from a Northern Site decided to visit me for Christmas. We found that the Christmas Eve services were at 4:30 and 6:00 pm that night at the main cathedral. We went to the earlier service, not knowing what to expect in terms of public transport. crowds and local revelry. We were part of the six faithful at the service, and watched throughout the liturgy, people show up, go behind the screen, and come out in robes just in time for that part of the service such as carrying the Bible. I also found amazing was how the choir assembled in the same manner. It started with one lone cantor, and more people joined as the evening progressed, expertly arriving when their part of the liturgy was to be sung, and then leaving if it was over. The music was so beautiful, it reminded me of the Aramaic early Christian music I had heard from ancient Arab Christendom. At the end of the service, the Priest, a very tall man with salt and pepper hair and the countenance of what I would call a surfer from California, wished us all a happy Christmas.

The next day, I hosted the Peace Corps Volunteer from the North (Chris) and a French Volunteer (Priscilla) for a lasagna Christmas lunch. It was a quiet day of good conversation and reflection. I made crepes in honor of Priscilla. Persimmons were ubiquitous here, and I had also made a variant of persimmon bars, which helped me feel somewhat at home since this orange pulpy fruit was part of my childhood due to our prolific tree in Santa Ana. I was able to talk with friends via Facebook and called my parents.

It has been interesting watching TV and the ads regarding Christmas, as well as the news coverage. I got to spend New Years in Tirana and enjoy the Christmas Market in the city center. It rivals anything I have seen in tourism promotions for other European nations. Another truly Albanian moment occurred in the middle of the evening revelry of the Christmas market. Kenny G Christmas toons were blaring and the square was all lit up with lights, precisely at 6 pm, the main mosque in the square started the call to prayer. Only in Albania I thought to myself, as I looked at the Mosque which was next to a parliament building twinkling in Christmas lights. I am off to Macedonia to visit relatives and partake in Orthodox Christmas with them. I am sorry to miss however, an Epiphany celebration in Berat where a flaming cross is thrown in the river Osmi, and locals swim to retrieve it. I hope to learn more about this custom.

So this has been my first Christmas in Albania. It was full of surprises and I must say, quite fulfilling. There was just enough “jingle” and Santa to make it fun, and at least from my perspective (I do not watch much Albanian TV, nor go shopping in the larger cities) not the crass materialism that nauseates me in the States. I miss my Church dearly, and the contact with my parents. For some reason, memories of Christmas past have been quite present in my thoughts and dreams. Maybe it is part of aging, or maybe it is due to being in a foreign land, it also might be part of watching the America I knew disintegrate with the gleeful hatchet of corporatist, I long for the days of warmth and caring of my youth. What I have found though, is a deep caring and hospitality of my new home, which at times almost hurts because it reminds me of what I have lost in these last few years. I reflect back to the haunting music of Christmas eve, so reminiscent of the first Christian communities on earth, which might actually be from those very first on this land. I am inspired by how people here all celebrate each holiday, regardless of religious affiliation. Here it seems they learned a painful lesson of what it means to be forced into atheism. Now, it does not matter how you worship or celebrate Divinity, only that you do in what ever manner you find comfortable. I honestly think this is the message of Christmas, of Divinity coming to humanity, to be intimate and whole. I think my experience of Christmas here in Albania is probably the closest to what I think was intended by the first Christmas. 

Gezuar Krishtlindjet!