Kittens

Several weeks ago I was walking out of Tirana at night. I was on my way to Greece to find a job and wanted to make an early start. Knowing my propensity for procrastination, I left Mariah and the hostel just before dark, intending to hike a few kilometers out of town, camp near the road and start hitching first thing in the morning.

All was going well until I stopped across the street from a gravel pit to smoke and drink a bit of water about five kilometers down the road. I heard a meow and looked up to see a tiny kitten scampering across the road towards me. Four, maybe five weeks old, friendly and adorable, he was with his much smaller, more subdued sister. No mother was in sight and I thought maybe she was out hunting for food. But after 20 minutes of playing and feeding them some chicken from the sandwich 'Riah had made me and giving them a bit of water none had shown up and there was an dead adult not too far down the road. Maybe the mother maybe not; dead animals are not uncommon in Albania. In any case they were filthy and hungry. The female was considerably smaller and less vigorous than her brother and even with a mother probably wouldn't live if she had to compete with him for food.

So I did the only thing I could and carried them back to the hostel cradled in my no longer white t-shirt. Mariah was up and immediately sprung into mother mode. We bathed them and fed them and they slept curled-up with me in my sleeping bag that night.

Edwin, the owner of the hostel was surprised to see me in the morning and less than pleased with his new charges. A kind, big-hearted man he'd learned the dangers of taking in strays the hard way. But Mariah promised to take care of them and find them homes and he wasn't about to kick them out.

They have since been adopted by friends of the hostel workers. I'm told they are doing very well, attacking everything that moves, growing fast, eating anything left unlocked and generally behaving like normal kittens.


Last night walking into town from the boat yard here in Rovinj I passed the security guard gently picking an orange and white kitten off a fence. He's been friendly to us and seems harmless if usually drunk and keeps two completely ineffective guard dogs. In his broken but comprehensible English he explained that the "bebe cata" was for the dogs to kill.

Last week he told my boss that the young male German Shepard had killed a mother cat and her two kittens the night before and was quite proud of him. Brutal perhaps but this is a fishing town and stray cats must be a constant problem. But his carefully and deliberately bringing in a cat for the dogs to kill horrifies me. Of course I wished him a good night and continued into town. Come to think of it, that was the first cat I've seen in the 10 days I've been here.

Possibly the Worst Place on Earth

Across the street a short, balding and Greek Tom Jones impersonator is serenading the English patrons in quarter-full bar. The patrons are some of the more attractive people I've seen here-Mostly youngish with a minimum of paunch. One blond girl is even quite pretty if you can ignore the wide set eyes characteristic of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. At least at this bar there aren't any children nodding off in wheelchairs. No joke, in my first 30 minutes here I saw 3 kids matching that despription. The lyrics are quite appropriate right now..."please...please release me."

Sidari is the the most English town on an island filled with with English tourists. This is the place Brits come on package tours for 2 weeks in August. Ignoring the monstrous hotels, it is one street in mostly faux British colonial style and you can hear music blasting everywhere. Not that anyone is dancing.Mostly they're sitting with 2 Euro pints watching Karaoke singers or one of the tribute acts. So far I've seen an Amy Winehouse, a Meatloaf and fat drag queen in a sequined nun's habit. Advertised for later this week is Freddy Mercury, Niel Diamond and someone called the "Chinese Elvis".

Other touristic places in Greece I've visted like Mytlini and Athens feature the usual assortment of souvenier shops filled with Chinese made crap like sunglasses, commermerative beach towels and Parthenon snow globes interspersed with locally made goods like leather sandals, first class olive oil and ouzo. None of the later here. Its all crap. The gold painted wrap-around sandals look that like they belong in a porno film about 2nd century streetwalkers you see in the cheap shoe shops in Greece, all the skinny girls are wearing them. The fat girls seem partial to 4 inch heels and skin tight dresses giving the overall effect of gaudey pears balanced on roofing nails. How they stay upright is boggling. The night though is young. We'll see how they do after 3 or 4 Russian Periods, Headfuckers or Tropical Cunts (actual drink names).

No overpriced baklava or souvlaki here either. All the restaurants feature adds for "full english breakfast just 4.50". Here too is perhaps he only resturant in the world that proudly advertises a "Real Scottish Chef!"

I feared this place was something like Spring Break or Bourbon Street filled with drunk, obnoxious British college students. Its so much worse than that. Its Spring Break if people brought their inbred families. And no one here seems to have even the beginnings of a college education.

Asking around I've found the jobs are scarce. This is a slow year and plenty of the British kids who came to work here aren't making it either. The bartending jobs are filled by Greeks for the most part and most of the waiters look bored. I can probably get job doing PR. Which involves standing outside bars handing out flyers from 20:00-03:30 for 20 Euros a night. We'll see.

I heard on the other end of the island...Kavos is much busier this year so if I can put 20 EUro in my pocket tonight I'll go there. Down to 5euro70 so I need to get some cash.

On Tuesday I went to Gouvia Bay which has one of the larger marina's in the Mediterranean. Again, no one hiring and everyone scrapping for work. I did talk to A1 services which staffs for charter boats and I chatted for a while with the manager there, a Brit named Chris, who took my resume and said he'd keep me in mind. Day labor pays 12Euro an hour and sometimes people come looking for crew. He didn't promise anything but pointedly declined to offer anymore suggestions about where to look for work. Hopefully that's a good sign.

kizkardesem evleninyor

A few blocks east of Istikal, it is slightly raining outside my sister's appartment on a not-so-steep-for-Istanbul-street. One week ago today I was supposed to leave Paris again for Africa but just before I left Mariah sent me the following email:

Eli.
I'm getting married.
I tried to call your French phone, but there was nothing.
So, I have to tell you in this email.
I told Mom and Dad. He told his family.
He? You wonder? His name is Sezayi Erken.
Have we known each other long? No.
We made this decision prior to any kiss, and dating, etc.
I will write more soon. Just so you know.

I love you and wish you a wonderful journey.

Love,
Mariah

I believe my SMS response was “Congrats...WTF?!?! I'm coming”. I wanted to visit her again before I left for Africa but money and an unwillingness to spend any more time in the safe sterility of Europe pushed me south. One's priorities change when one's only and younger sister announces her engagement, a continent suddenly doesn't seem very big.