“Why are you here? What are you doing here? Why would you leave America to live here?” It seems nearly impossible for the Albanians we meet to wrap their minds around the thought that we voluntarily left the land of their fondest dreams to live in this “forsaken” country. The United States appears heavenly to their eyes, while the sentiments of many an Albanian about their country has been expressed in some graffiti Sean photographed in Tirana, the capital city. Written in English and illustrated with a skull and crossbones, it reads, “Welcome to Hell.”

Their perceptions of Albania are quite different from our own. Yes, of course we see the poverty, the pollution, the corruption, the lack of opportunities, and all the other problems. But we also notice the picturesque countryside, the slow, laid-back pace of life, the warm hospitality, and the deep, loyal friendships. The Albanian people are treated as worthless by many in neighboring countries. Their self-image has been shattered.

My Albanian friend’s sister immigrated to Greece. She is very bright and was always at the top of her class. She speaks four languages and has a degree in economics, yet, due to prejudice, the only job she can get outside of Albania is that of a cleaning lady.
The same sad story is repeated in many different lives. The unrelenting, degrading treatment they have had to endure has left its mark on Albanian hearts. Centuries of oppression by the Ottoman Turks followed by invasion and occupation by Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany as well as Serbian, Greek, and French forces left them ripe for domination under one of their own. The extreme level of control over every aspect of life during the iron-fisted rule of communist dictator Enver Hoxha has left Albanians with an identity crisis. They seek a sense of belonging in the world. Although technically part of the European community, Albania is like a long-forgotten distant relative who finally attends a family reunion only to be shunned. Her family is embarrassed by her strange and awkward ways, and they whisper rumors about her past. She feels shut out, unwanted.

Albania has been pleading for acceptance into the European Union, but so far it has been denied. “You may join us someday, but first you must clean yourself up and be respectable.” This is the message Albania understands only too well. The problem is that she seems unable to make those changes on her own. Desperate to be accepted by the others, she tries to become like them. She watches their television programs, listens to their music, and studies them carefully to learn what they value. She discovers that their lives revolve around acquiring material things, entertainment, convenience, and comfort, so those become her new goals. Her drive to get these things as quickly as possible leads to crime, corruption, and loss of moral integrity. She is confused by her feelings of shallowness and dissatisfaction. She is dismayed by the disintegration of her finest qualities.

Albania is hurtling toward change at such dizzying speed that she can’t or doesn’t want to slow down enough to choose carefully where she is heading. She is, as the expression goes, “throwing out the baby with the bathwater.” At the same time, she is grasping so recklessly for the good things in life that she doesn’t realize she is also grabbing onto harmful and venomous things that can weaken and destroy her. Albania is known as “the land of the eagle.” She is an eagle who has been caged for so long that she doesn’t know how to handle freedom. She can’t feed herself, and she has forgotten how to fly.

If only she could understand that her greatest treasure is her people! Then maybe she wouldn’t compromise so much. Regardless of the prejudice of others, Albanians are a brave and noble people. They are generous, loyal, lively, expressive, and persevering. They have hearts of gold and wills of iron, and I pray that they won’t be completely broken by the lies of the devil: “Get what you can now because life is short, and this is all there is,” and, “You aren’t worth much because you don’t have much.” Those of us from the land of plenty are familiar with the cliché of the rich but miserable class of people, but wealth is a new phenomenon here, so it is thought of as the source of all happiness. Almost none have learned about the true source of lasting peace and joy.

I pondered these things on a bus from Tirana to Berat, our home. Across the aisle was a young solider who purposely sat by us because he knew we were foreigners. He surprised us with his good command of the English language with a British-Albanian accent. He told us he had lived in England for four years and was recently caught with false documents and deported. He couldn’t find a job, so he joined the army and has plans to leave Albania again in about a year. He wanted to know where we were from and how long we would be visiting Albania. When we told him we were Americans who now live in Albania, he reacted with shock. Eyes wide, he exclaimed, “Oh my God! I can’t believe it!” along with a string of profanity that led us to believe that he probably didn’t actually know God. “I can’t believe it: Americans who live in Albania—in Berat!” Then came the usual litany of questions. He repeated his original exclamation at least a dozen times during the nearly three-hour bus ride. He told us that he hated living in Albania and that Albanians were “nothing.”

My prayer for the Albanian people is that they will discover their true identity, their royal heritage, their immeasurable worth. I pray that they will be awed with the limitless love Jesus has for them and that they will know the joy and peace that come from knowing Him. Please join me in praying that Albania, the eagle, will learn to soar high and free just as God has meant for her and that she may know that He has not forsaken nor forgotten her.

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