193-ish Is Getting a Makeover

193ish is going to be re-tooled, revamped, and will come back better than ever on January 1, 2007.

Albania Hearts America!

Wow!! Who knew? I knew Albania was my new favorite country for a good reason:


Albania Ready to Show Bush Some Serious Love in the San Diego Union-Tribune.

Why Won't Anyone Pour Their Heart Out to Me?

Well? Why not? As you may have assumed, I never did hear back from Assan or his daughter about Afghanistan. And, after e-mailing Albanian Students International for some candid thoughts on Albanian pride, I've also received no response! An e-mail to an unnamed UCSD professor who has visited Albania and advised the country on its electoral politics was returned by a lengthy, useless response best summed up like this: "Sorry, I don't know anything about Albania...I only visited once." Ridiculous; you advised these people on their elections and you can't speak one sentence about the quality of their civic involvement or level of national pride?

Hmm..must think of someone else to bug. Maybe somebody out there will see the potential value in sharing their feelings for publication on a blog that exactly two people read...

Ringing True?

A quote floating around these days via the self-inflating, patriotic e-mail chains I receive from my dear grandma is the following, which is always attributed to former British PM Tony Blair, in reference to the U.S., but seemingly never confirmed: "A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in and how many want out."

I do not particularly care whether or not he said it (although a lot of people on Snopes do, if you're curious), or who first proffered this thought; however, I do think that it is uniquely applicable to Albania. In 2001, UNICEF co-sponsored a survey of Albanian youth; the results found that nearly half of young people plan to emigrate from Albania to another country. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that if you were to ask American kids ages 9-17 about living abroad, they would be nearly unanimous in assuming that thought would be followed by something along the lines of "for a semester." Albanian youth want to leave the country for good to make their way in life, and that's troubling-- especially for a country with religious freedom, not at war, and unshackled from communism for over 15 years.

Apparently, a lot of people want out of Albania; meanwhile, not many want in, either. Albania's tourism industry is nascent, at best.

The irony of this is that Albania possesses so many of the qualities that make Greece and Italy, main attractions for both young Albanians and international tourists alike, so desirable. Its Ionian and Adriatic coasts are apparently beautiful, ideal settings for posh resort towns; it boasts Greek & Roman ruins--the very features that people travel to Greece and Italy to see-- in Butrint, and the 2,400 year old Castle of Rozafa in Shkodra; it even has ski-worthy mountains in the north! All of these potential attractions of course, are hampered by the country's rampant crime and lack of a national road system or even unified traffic laws and driver's education.

I suppose that after so many years of oppression, both literally and culturally, some Albanians just want a fresh start. Rather than "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," perhaps their theory is, "If our country is broke, why not go next door where everything is fixed and has been for years?" It's got to be frustrating to feel surpassed by the rest of the world.

Over the past few hundred years, Albania missed out on the rest of Europe's Renaissance when the Turks invaded; went from forced conversions to Islam (the country is 90% Muslim, mostly secular) to being declared the first officially atheist country (according to its former Communist dictator, "the religion of Albania is Albanianism"); would not have been a country were it not for President Woodrow Wilson's inspired intervention upon Italy, Britain and France's plans to partition Albania amongst its neighbors after WWI; suffered through what is commonly described as the most repressive Communist regime ever, establishing a legacy of non-reward for hard work or accomplishment that has proved difficult to overcome; and took in half a million fleeing Kosovars in the 1990s.

Perhaps the city of Baltimore's waste-of-half-a-million-dollars-in-consulting-and-marketing-fees new slogan would be best applied to Albania: "Get In On It." Hopefully somebody, whether internal or external, will decide to do just that.

Besa

An interesting point demonstrating the depths of Albanian pride is the concept of besa. Besa, loosely translates to mean "keeping the promise," or "faith" or "trust." It is inextricably related to the Albanian sense of honor. Each individual must entrust his promises with his own besa; if someone breaks besa, then he is seen as unsalvageable, inhuman.

Now, I realize that this seems a little primitive. At first reading, I thought that this was nothing more than an attempt to "sum up" Albanian culture; a simplification of an outdated tradition that nobody really places a whole lot of value in anymore. Like saying Irishmen are rowdy, or the South is racist, or Native Americans lived in teepees; a general description garnered from another era. But, in Robert Carver's The Accursed Mountains, the author notes his surprise at being wrong:

"I had read all of this, but couldn't yet comprehend that it was a living reality, rather than some arcane piece of folklore...I came to understand that it was in fact besa which, in the absence of any real law or authority, made everyday existence in Albania possible (p.9)."

So far, this book has been an incredibly pleasant surprise. I was prepared for it to be dry and dull, but given the lack of easily accessible Albanian literature (and, it seems, the lack of people studying Albania-- neighboring Kosovo gets all the international news attention, while Croatia's blossoming tourism receives all the praise), it was the most interesting-looking item in the library catalog. Turns out, it's really quite a gem, very easy to read, and filled with nuanced cultural observations interwoven with historical context and plenty of philosophical questions.

Granted, this book was published in 2000, based upon the author's visit in 1996; who knows, perhaps besa is dead and done with these days except for amongst the elder population. In a young democracy such as Albania, culture and society are sure to be shifting, simultaneously grappling with the past with grabbing for the future.

Skenderbeg Is My Forefather, Hear Me Roar!

Alright, so falling behind schedule on only my second country wasn't part of the plan. But, I am back, armed with a respectable wealth of knowledge about the tiny, fascinating country we know today as Albania.

In at least three of the sources I researched, the authors mentioned the fact that Albania is about the size of Maryland. Random, but relevant, and if they think it is worth noting, then I sure do, too. Unlike Afghanistan, I knew virtually nothing about Albania when I started looking for quality sources. So, I thought it prudent to start out at a very basic level, with a children's book, actually. Simply titled Albania (by Mary Lee Knowlton) and featuring lots of pictures, this book was probably written for middle schoolers and provided the perfect foundation of knowledge to better understand Albania.

I don't think I could have asked for an easier assignment than to discover the pride of Albania. This is a fiercely proud state; in fact, it would even be accurate to say notoriously proud.

Albania sits at the crossroads of Eastern Europe and the West. For centuries, it has been “a patch of land that people from north or south, east or west, felt entitled to pass through on their way somewhere else.” It has been ruled by the Romans, Greeks, and Ottomans among others.

It was the Ottoman Empire's attempt to overtake Albania that particularly fueled and solidified a sense of Albanian nationalist pride. From 1443 to 1468, a hero named Skenderbeg led a small force of Albanians against Ottoman armies upwards of 100,000 men. For 25 years, until his death, Skenderbeg held off the Turks and shaped Albanian pride and identity in the process in what is recognized as an incredible feat of dedication, resistance and belief in one's cause.

Kaddo Bourani

I know I'm supposed to be done with Afghanistan-- a girl's gotta move on to Albania sometime, right? However, I feel compelled to put in just two more cents!

Last year, my friend Jessica and I went to The Helmand, a classy Afghan restaurant in Baltimore. I still think about that meal! We shared a wonderful appetizer, called kaddo bourani, which is pan-fried and baked baby pumpkin seasoned with sugar and served with a garlicky yogurt sauce. A few months ago, I was delighted to find this recipe for kaddo bourani. I tried to use canned pumpkin instead of the specified fresh baby sugar pumpkin, which is a pathetic shortcut. Amazingly, it was still delicious, which is a testament to the innate brilliance of this dish!

You know what, I've never seen a casual Afghan restaurant. And I sure haven't seen any that resemble the vast multitudes of Chinese carry-outs and Mexican taco stands. Does this speak to Afghans' incredible pride in their culture? Not trying to infer too much here, but just a thought...

Another item of note is that the owner of The Helmand, Quayam Karzai, is the brother of Afghan president Hamid Karzai!

Hmm...I just read that there is another restaurant called The Helmand. This one is located in San Francisco, and its owner Mahmoud Karzai also claims to be the brother of Hamid. Curious and curiouser....

Life Happens At Lunch Hour

Despite my valiant reading effort, which among other items has included a historical account, a policy article and not one but two absolutely wonderful Afghan-American autobiographies, I feel that I haven't quite found what I'm looking for. So, in hopes of hearing about a tiny, real, unedited, joyful tidbit of Afghan pride, I sought out the only Afghans I know of in town: at the Khyber Pass restaurant in Hillcrest.

On my lunch break today, I sat outside in the summer breeze and tried to strike up small talk with my waiter, Assan, who apologized for being "not very good at speaking." I told him I was writing a paper about Afghanistan (if he admittedly wasn't the most comfortable with English, I figured "blog" would be a tricky sticking point in conversation), and asked him if he could tell me something he really loved about the country. Anything: his favorite family recipe, favorite place, favorite activity (is kite-flying in Afghanistan really the preferred pastime of childhood, or just a romantic premise around which to frame a timely and appealing best-selling novel?). Assan smiled, fumbled a bit, said something about pride and freedom, and hurried off. He sent someone else out to bring my Lamb Kachaloo Chalow.

I thought I had perhaps insulted him. He certainly could have felt affronted, this tiny little high-heeled and wrap-dressed American walking into his restaurant and requesting that he divulge his spirit on the spot, perceivably in exchange for a healthy tip and her continued patronage.

But at the end of my meal, he came out and said, "I have been thinking very much about your question, and it is difficult for me to put into words. My daughter and other members of the family could explain better than I can." He asked for my name and phone number and said he would have his daughter call me. So, that was my small adventure for the day. I hope to hear from Assan's daughter soon; in the meantime, I will begin my readings on the next country.

Does anyone happen to know an ethnic Albanian living in San Diego, perchance?

Putting Two and Two Together...

Everyone has heard a lot about Afghanistan in recent years. I am amazed, however, at a couple of things that we have heard little or nothing about. During the course of my readings, beginning with Afghanistan: A Short History of Its People and Politics, I came to understand much more about this country that has been roped backwards so many times that today it is tied up in knots. I didn't begin this effort in hopes of delivering a history lesson with each post, but here goes, because I think this is really important to understanding Afghan pride and persuasions.

We all know that before the rise of the diabolical Taliban, the Soviets invaded Afghanistan and effectively buried the country. The biggest thing I don't remember ever reading about in the newspaper or hearing on TV is that prior to the Soviets, the British invaded Afghanistan. More than once. Three times, actually. These incursions and their ensuing casualties were significant enough to warrant names: the First, Second, and Third Anglo-Afghan Wars. All were fought between about 1839-1919, and the Afghans effectively ousted the British each time.

Let me say that again: in three successive wars, the people of Afghanistan defeated the mighty British military three times. At the time, the British were the most formidable force in the world. Imagine the pride and the ferocity of spirit that Afghans must have felt after driving out those powerful white colonialists three times!

The media only seems to discuss the Soviet invasion, which makes sense in many ways. The Soviet occupation was the most recent "outside" involvement in Afghanistan; it was devastating; and as Americans we readily subscribe to any example of communist failure. Discussing the British failure in Afghanistan, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. Nobody is eager to reminisce about the Brits, those good old chaps, our partners in the War on Terror and Allied friends for a century, going home with their coattails between their knobby knees. Like it or not, that did happen; and it is critical to understanding the state of Afghanistan as it is today!

One of the greatest problems facing coalition forces in Afghanistan is the fact that so many members of al-Qaeda, including Osama himself, have gone into hiding. We know that many terrorists are harbored in neighboring Pakistan. We blame this on Pakistani military and government duplicity, and to some degree this is certainly true.

What we fail to realize, however, is that crossing the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan has been a shady yet common excursion for decades, and in large part it is due to nineteenth-century British policy. The border between Pakistan and Afghanistan is called the Durand Line, and it was drawn in 1893 before Pakistan was even a country (at the time, the line separated Afghanistan and what was then India). The British drew the line, and it completely divided the largest demographic ethnicity in Afghanistan, the Pashtuns. Speculation states that the British divided the Pashtuns intentionally to thwart any potential uprising from this large ethnic nation.

Afghanistan notes that when British India achieved independence and was broken up into two countries (India and Pakistan), the British offered the Pashtuns on the Indian side of the Durand Line “the sole choice of joining one of the successor powers, India or Pakistan, and rejected that there also should be the choice of…union with Afghanistan…The Afghans protested vigorously and, when their protests went unheeded, achieved the distinction of being the only country to vote against Pakistan’s admission to the United Nations (p. 147).” There actually was (and presumably still is, although it is clear today which state is more powerful) great animosity between Afghanistan and Pakistan, contrary to our perception that they work together so collusively.

What does all of this mean to us, as Americans, today? Well, for a fiercely independent people like the Afghans, the mere presence of a line drawn on a map wasn’t going to deter them from visiting their fellow Pashtuns in Pakistan or vice versa. They crossed over regardless of the British line of demarcation, and it seems that neither government really enforced its boundaries. Over the years, the local people grew intimately familiar with the mountain passes and tunnels across the so-called border. Afghanistan’s endless state of war and oppression in recent decades hasn’t helped, either; even as Pakistan sought to guard the border more readily, thousands upon thousands of Afghan refugees desperately sought refuge with Pashtun friends and family on the other side, and risked their lives to learn more intimately the most remote and secret paths across.

It has been really frustrating to many Americans that we cannot seem to catch Osama bin Laden and more of the Taliban, who are largely Pashtun; but when you look at it in a historical context, it’s easy to understand why. In large part, the Western world (our dear Brits) had a lot to do with creating this disastrous web of communication and cartography; the Soviets exacerbated it; and now we must work to untangle what we can.

What We're Missing While Afghanistan Is At War With Itself

It's pretty obvious that none of us will be visiting Afghanistan any time soon, and that's a real shame. While I am admittedly a pretty uptight and fastidious person, by the time I finished my readings, I wanted to sit down on someone's dirt floor in Kabul, shoulder to shoulder with multitudes of siblings and cousins, and dig my hands into a shared platter of food. The culture sounds amazing and the hospitality is world-renowned. Once Afghanistan loses its claims to being, by various accounts, "more wretched than any other country on earth," the "Poorest People in the World," the world's most densely land-mined country, and the No. 1 target of the War on Terror, it will be an incredible place to visit.

While I don't pretend to be at all well-acquainted with Afghanistan, there are a couple of places that especially caught my eye, showcasing its rich history and culture. You or I would be lucky to have the opportunity to see these at some point in our lifetimes. And, if anyone knows of less-publicized-but-equally-enthralling places to look forward to visiting in the year 2035 or so, please let me know!

The first is the Bagh-e-Babur gardens in Kabul. Some five hundred years ago, a Mughal emperor fell in love with Kabul, and when he left the city to conquer other lands he spent a great fortune to recreate Kabul’s beautiful gardens everywhere he went. Like pretty much everything else, Kabul’s gardens were destroyed during Afghanistan’s civil war, although it actually housed refugees for a time. Think about that: imagine Washington, D.C. being invaded and some of its citizens gathering to take shelter amongst the cherry blossom trees at the Jefferson Memorial or on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. That’s the best way I can relate, although I can’t say if that’s an accurate comparison.

Several historic preservation organizations have helped to rebuild the gardens. When the families and visitors come back, I picture it feeling sort of like San Diego’s Balboa Park, Kabul-style and with the sense that you are one small, peaceful person in a place that has five hundred years of history and five hundred thousand stories to tell. How true “if these walls could talk” must ring here.

The second is in a place known alternately as the "City of Screams" or the "City of Sighs." Either way, I realize that it does not sound like a particularly welcoming locale; however, the Afghans do not hide their history, and so Shahr-i-Gholghola it is. Nearly the entire population of this city, 150,000 strong, was massacred in the 13th century by Mongol invaders.

Today, however, there seems to be a little bit of hope emanating from this location in the Bamiyan Valley, where Buddhist monks founded a monastery centuries ago. You may have heard about the Bamiyan Valley in March 2001, when its two massive Buddhas carved from pink sandstone cliffs in at least the fifth century were largely destroyed by the Taliban because they were “un-Islamic.” The Bamiyan is a World Heritage Site, and its beauty and peacefulness are apparently astounding. Local Afghans hope to revive tourism in the area. Hopefully for us, they are successful!

Around the World in 4,053 Days

My husband recently told me that as a teenager, he and his friends in California had a vague idea that Maryland was a county somewhere in the Midwest. I laughed, but was a little incredulous. Aside from the fact that these guys had clearly never passed a 3rd-grade geography quiz, I was amazed that someone could not know what or where Maryland, my home, was!

Maryland has crabs! World famous, Chesapeake Bay blue crabs. Remember Wedding Crashers? "Crab cakes and football, that's what Maryland does!" And the sailing capital of the world, Annapolis. And Baltimore- home of Babe Ruth, good ol' "Charm City!" Ever heard of a little ditty called "The Star Spangled Banner?" That's right; witnessed, inspired, and written here. These and a million other small traits and claims to fame make me proud of Maryland, and I couldn't believe that these silly California kids only gave it enough credit to be perhaps a mid-sized county in Ohio.

That got me thinking. I'm proud to be from Maryland. Probably, the people living in some mid-sized county in Ohio are likewise, really proud of it. Everybody is proud of where they are from, even if it is unglamorous or remote to everyone else in the world; it's home.

Hence, this endeavor. I want to learn a little bit about every single country in the world, to understand a little bit more about the homes of others-- what's great about the land they live on, what glory days they reflect upon, what their defining moments are.

My goal is to read as much as possible (but at least 2 books and 2 articles) about each country, A to Z, trying to study one country every 3 weeks. Assuming that I stay on track, it will take a little more than 11 years. I'll post my observations, ideas, and small insights; looking forward to Afghanistan!