By MAIRE ROWLAND
The Albanian language is a formidable beast. I thought I’d be able say “thank you” without too many difficulties. My foolish naivete clearly got the better of me. It took me to four weeks to remember and (badly) pronounce “falenmenderit” and seven months later, my mangled interpretation of this simple word still inspires giggles. A thirty six letter alphabet (I still can’t get the difference between “l” and “ll” ) combined with the privilege of being a native English speaker means that I pronounce everything terribly and multi-lingual Albanians are gracious enough to limit my embarrassment by speaking to me in my mother tongue.
My poor Albanian skills are further exacerbated by the incredible capacity for languages that nearly every Albanian I encounter seems to possess. Most young people I have met in Tirana, can wax lyrical in Albanian, Italian and English. Their overcrowded alphabet and desire to travel gives them the skills of pronunciation and the motivation to learn, all of which I lack, severely. The more time I spend here the more my desire to conquer this complex but unique language grows, I must try harder…
Language hasn’t been my only difficulty since inhabiting these shores. For my first few weeks in Albania I was under the impression that all Albanians hated each other. I witnessed numerous interactions between my Albanian colleagues that sounded like full blown arguments. Voices raised, animated gestures often concluded with passionate monologues. Without the knowledge of the language I hadn’t the necessary tools to decipher what was going on and so I relied on observing. This failed me miserably, I soon discovered that not only did I have to try and understand a new language that was alien to me, but I also had to adapt to a completely new method of expression. In Ireland if voices are raised in a conversation, someone is either drunk or very very angry. To me, a simple conversation about the weather between Albanians often sounded like a precursor to a physical scrap. I almost began thinking that they’d been downing raki unbeknownst to me and perhaps I should intervene to calm things down. This, of course, inspired immense bemusement among my new Albanian friends, who were simply enjoying a pleasant chit chat. I have learned never to assume Albanians are angry until they actually tell you they are angry.
The final obstacle to my adjustment to Albania is the greetings scenario, is it one kiss or two kisses Albania? Is it left first or right? As a north west European any greeting that requires more touching than a firm handshake sends me spiraling into a state of panic. No matter how many times I encounter this a day I still can’t get the hang of it. I’ve taken to remaining at a sufficient distance so that I can bypass the entire ordeal with a smile and brief wave. Sure, it causes a raised eyebrow among my Albanian counterparts but it saves me giving them a headbutt, I’ll settle for a few seconds of confused awkwardness over causing a concussion any day.
