An interview with the Rector of the Polytechnic University
was not on my itinerary. Even when, in a moment of desperation, I had suggested
seeing the university, the possibility did not cross my mind. But then I had reckoned without Ilir, my Albanian
guide.
Short, stocky and dark-haired, Ilir’s defining traits were
an insatiable curiosity and contempt for all politicians and their works. He had
originally been an English teacher. In communist times he occasionally acted as
an interpreter for western tour groups, until he was found to have accepted the
occasional kindly-meant gift from grateful clients. He was disgraced and his
hoard of cigarettes and instant coffee confiscated by the authorities. But the
comrades did not find the stash of tips in western currency under his
mattress.
In the heady days after the fall of communism he worked for
a time in the budding tourist industry in the southern resort of Saranda, but
the collapse of the pyramid savings schemes and subsequent unrest in 1997 had
stalled the influx of tourists. Nowadays he worked mainly as an interpreter for
businessmen or journalists. I was simply a curious tourist, and Ilir’s talents were
sadly wasted, but he tried his best. He
scoffed at my guidebook’s warning about phone-tapping. But that evening he spoke
to a friend of a friend who worked in the security service. Next day he reported with interest that there
were strict procedures: telephones could only be monitored in the case of
suspected criminal or terrorist activity, and a court order was required. It was
just unfortunate that the way the telecommunications network was set up meant
that in order to monitor one suspect’s calls, the whole block had to be tapped.
Tirana |
Tirana is a compact city. There is, frankly, not all that
much to see. Its architecture is mainly twentieth-century: modern boxes
jostling with Italianate government buildings erected by King Zog in the 1930s. Touchingly, the Communists retained one or
two ‘historical monuments’ from Ottoman days, mainly in the east of the city. Visiting them does not take long. The Tanners’ bridge is just that - a small
stone bridge that elsewhere would probably not merit a second glance. The Türbe of Kaplan Pasha is an octagonal stone
mausoleum on a traffic island, smaller and less imposing than a municipal
bandstand. I spent a little longer at the mosque of Ethem Bey. It is unusually
and attractively decorated with floral paintings in natural pigments. Moving on
from Ottoman Tirana, the National
Museum in Skanderbeg Square is
a modernist box. Its exhibits cover the history of Albania from the Stone Age to the
reign of King Zog. I was curious about
the communist period, but these rooms were closed, it seemed, because they were
‘not historically accurate’.
The archaeological museum was also closed that day, much to
Ilir’s consternation. We were only halfway through the one day city tour and he
was running out of things to show me. That when I had my big idea. I work in a
university, so I asked if there was one in Tirana. We swiftly arrived at the Polytechnic University , an impressive stone edifice
at the end of the main boulevard. I
expected to take a couple of photos and go for lunch. Ilir had other ideas. “Perhaps someone can show us around? I’ll
look for an administrator.” He clearly
was not going to take no for an answer so I reluctantly followed him in. Inside, it was very quiet, if not deserted. Eventually
we encountered an elderly man in shabby overalls who appeared to be a
caretaker. He clearly, and correctly,
thought that we had no business to be wandering the corridors during the summer
vacation and was happy to escort us out.
Ilir thought not. A conversation
in Albanian ensued. Ilir told me to
wait, while he followed the caretaker down the corridor. I had no choice but to
wait in the dusty entrance hall. When Ilir returned he told me that he had
arranged for me to talk to an administrator.
To my consternation, I found myself shown into a large and
important-looking office. The ‘administrator’ who had agreed to meet me turned
out to be the Rector. Ilir
came to interpret, though the professor spoke excellent English. Despite the
fact that I was somewhat casually dressed for such a meeting, he was very
polite and we chatted for a while about the differences between the Albanian
and UK
university systems. Ilir was fascinated. It was entirely by chance that I had suggested
the university and that the Rector was even available, but without the
intervention of Ilir this ‘chance’ encounter would never have happened. I never
did find out who Ilir had told the professor I was.
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