Though long-inhabited, Tirana never became a city until after World War II. In 1938, it had but 38,000 people. Further, its architectural heritage has been much destroyed during the Communist decades, so there are almost no historical churches or mosques left.
A striking exception is the Ethem Bey Mosque, completed in 1821. Only shuttered by Enver Hoxha, it was not razed. When it was reopened without permission in 1991, thousands of people converged there to pray. Its walls and dome are lushly covered with mosaics depicting landscapes and plant motifs. Elegantly proportioned, its a gorgeous mosque. Turkey is financing its restoration. Nearby, a much bigger mosque, also funded by Turkey, is being built.
Since the Ethem Bey occupies one corner of Skanderbeg Square, I see it almost every day. A vast, unobstructed space like a parade ground, Skanderbeg was where thousands of solemnly dressed Albanians knelt, with their heads bowed, to mourn Stalins death in 1953. There in 1991, a 32- feet-high statue of Enver Hoxha was toppled, while the dictators portraits and books curled, blackened and ashened in bonfires, to much bitter jubilation.
Just off Skanderbeg is Café Flora. Opened in the 1930s, its one of Tiranas oldest, though you wouldnt know it by its slick and sterile appearance. Surely, its no longer the establishment described by Ismail Kadar in his 2009 novel, The Girl in Exile.
Under vague yet worrying government scrutiny, a playwright arranged to meet one of his investigators at Café Flora, for an exploratory, informal chat. Maybe it wasnt the brightest idea, What am I letting myself in for? he asked himself as he passed the marble colonnade of the Palace of Culture, his mind dogged by the thought that he was going like a lamb to the slaughter.
Entering, the playwright was momentarily surprised to find the investigator at his favorite table. What a coincidence, he thought, but of course, The investigator would know as well as he did where he liked to sit. As all Tirana knew, the Flora came second after the Dajti for microphones under the tables.
As the watched watched the watcher for clues to why he was being watched, they talked like ordinary acquaintances, but of course, there was nothing normal about their conversation, or Café Flora, Tirana and Albania of that era. One man was totally at the mercy of the other, and it didnt matter that, up to that point, he had been a playwright much esteemed by the Party.
With total power, the Party, or more specifically, Enver Hoxha, could just change his mind, and decide that a thoroughly loyal servant or longstanding comrade is an enemy. This apparently happened to Mehmet Shehu, Hoxhas right hand man. Expected by all to succeed the ailing dictator by 1981, Shehu suddenly died, supposedly by suicide, then came the preposterous announcement that Shehu had long been an agent of the CIA, KGB, British and Yugoslavs. Hoxha also sent Shehus widow and two sons to prison, where one committed suicide.
Of course, Shehu didnt rise to the top of the Communist hierarchy by being such a nice guy. Shehu in 1961, Whoever disagrees with our leadership in any respect, will get spat in the face, punched on the chin, and, if necessary, a bullet in his head. Shehu certainly got one.
Six years after Hoxhas death, his wife, Nexhmije, was arrested for embezzlement. Jailed for just five years, she had it easy. Albanians knew all about her pompous, extravagant lifestyle, which was standard for the elite of every Communist country, but why should anyone be surprised? Whats the use of power if one cant gorge, or exact terrible revenge against each offense, no matter how slight or imaginary?
Though the US is well on its way towards totalitarianism, its only half-erected, as proven by the half-assed skirmishes among its politicos. When Trump threatened to arrest Hillary, for example, he was only kidding, and they both knew it, for theyre in the same bed. As for rigged elections, Kerry, too, only jokingly dawdled with the hanging chad diddle. After being screwed by Hillary, Sanders beamingly endorsed her top shelf, naked strap-on.
At this stage, its only flag football, or, more accurately, fag football. Despite all the hollering, prancing and pansy pantsing, no hitting is allowed. See any blood?
The US is also missing its Great Dear Leader, with Clinton, Bush, Obama and Trump afforded only brief cameos as cabana boys in chief. Here in Albania, Hoxha ruled for 40 years! Next door in Yugoslavia, Tito reigned for 37! Think about that.
Narcissistic ogres, they loved themselves to death. Such type will always be adored and worshipped by the infantile, hankering for their uber daddy, but luckily for the US, the country should disintegrate before such a savior appears.
In The Albanians, Miranda Vickers describes Hoxhas 1946 visit to Belgrade, where he was shocked by Titos arrogance and elitism. Intending to swallow up Albania, Tito had to show who was boss, Tito wore a white marshals uniform with a gold-embroidered collar and matching cuffs, and abundant medal ribbons on his chest to complement the stars on his epaulettesthis ensemble being completed by a huge sparkling diamond ring on his finger. Hoxha felt offended, humiliated and probably exceedingly jealous of all this excessive and ostentatious display, following so soon after the austere misery of the wartime struggle from which both he and Tito had just emerged.
Conflict or even open war among Communist nations should prove, even to dumbshits, that nationalism is always a factor, no matter what your brainwashed or lying professor told you.
With such a recent past of abject poverty, physical isolation, mental suffocation and widespread state terror, its no wonder Albanians have worked hard to remake their society, to give it a new, cosmopolitan sheen thats almost entirely free of nostalgia, for there isnt much to fondly remember.
Of course, Tirana also looks new because nearly all its businesses could only appear after the collapse of Communism. Street after street, all the cafés, restaurants, bars and shops seem uniformly new, with each piece of furniture just installed, and the walls freshly painted and without memories. There are no black-and-white photos of long-dead patrons in any bar, no quirky painting forgotten in a corner. By October of 1994, there were just five restaurants in the entire city!
When the past is evoked, its nearly always imported, and why not? Since movies, TV shows and songs also become memories, you can modify your past, sort of, by lifting someone elses media.
Near me, theres the Vital Café. Among its framed images is Lewis Hines 1910 photo of boys smoking, Uncle Sam with I WANT YOU FOR U.S. ARMY, Manhattan Bridge as seen from Brooklyn, a pencil drawing of the Statue of Liberty, and a generic photo of a Lisbon streetcar. Theres no image of Albania.
Although Bar Restaurant London serves no English food or beer, its filled with photos of English royalties, and even several of Winston Churchill. The owner has visited London just once, for three days.
(Among Albanians, the Communists were most effective at fighting Fascists and Nazis, by the way, so they were funded by the British. Churchill helped to enthrone Hoxha. Albanian gold stolen by Nazis was also seized by the Brits after WWII, and not returned to Albania to this day, despite repeated demands. Who, I rob? I a thief? Whatchoo talkin about?!)
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