As our airplane descended into the Tirana airport, we already noticed a contrast. On our left, rugged snow-covered mountain peaks rose above our flight path. But the view out the right windows seemed to belong to a different country—flat checkerboard farmland dotted with clay-tiled roofs.

The drive to Berat clearly demonstrated the wild driving habits of the Albanians. Lanes seem to have no meaning here. Surprisingly, we didn’t witness any collisions. By the time we reached our destination, our family had had little or no sleep since we had left the States 31 hours before. When we feasted our weary eyes on the imposing snowcapped mountain of Tomorri towering over the fair city of Berat, we were revived with excitement. We needed that burst of energy to haul our luggage up the steep, narrow walkway that climbs to our new home, which is perched about 60 feet up a rocky hillside. Thankfully, we had some help. After a week of going up and down the path several times a day, we are getting used to it.

Many of the homes here, including ours, have no heat and are not insulated, yet many have satellite televisions. The electricity goes off from about 11 a.m. until 2 p.m. and also at less predictable times in the evening. Many of the restaurants and the bank have generators outside, but the Internet café just closes during power outages. Many of the shops are so small they just operate with natural light from doors and windows. The city water is turned off at 8 a.m. and several other times during the day and night, but we haven’t figured out that schedule yet (if there is one). Sometimes we are caught off guard with shampoo in our hair.

Berat is one of the oldest cities in Albania. Having been inhabited for thousands of years, it has a medieval quality, which is magnified by two old castles. Our home is in the lagjë (neighborhood) called Mangalem, which has been the Muslim quarter since Ottoman times. Our balcony overlooks the Bachelor’s Mosque, the main street, and the river Osum. Above our home, at the top of the rocky hill, stands a castle which began as an Illyrian fortress in the fourth century B.C. The citadel is still inhabited today.
The Albanians are friendly and helpful, but I must admit that after a day of hearing countless people speaking the unfamiliar and difficult language, it is somehow soothing to hear only the familiar songs of birds, the bleating of sheep and goats, and the sounds of horses and donkeys, chickens and turkeys. It’s amusing to see these animals walking the city streets.

God has blessed us by sending two Albanian families to help us. Tomi is a middle-aged gentleman who owns a bookstore and seems to be well respected in the community. He is kind-hearted and generous, and he speaks some English. He helped us find our house, and he has offered to help us with whatever we need. He wants to introduce us to a money changer who will give us a fair exchange and no counterfeits. He has taken me to a café and bought me chamomile tea with lemon. We talked for over an hour. He and his wife, Greta, have visited us and brought small gifts. At the end of one visit, Tomi said, “I feel this is the beginning of a great friendship.” Praise God!
The other family lives across the river. The oldest daughter, 15-year-old Romina, is learning English in school. She is the only English speaker in her family of five. She was on a school holiday when we met her, so she spent the first two days showing us around and helping us find food and supplies. She has been over every day since we got here to help us with language or to walk with us and show us around. Her father, Nexhip, invited our family to their house one evening. They served us apple juice and candied orange peels.

A few of the children in town have enjoyed practicing their few English words on us, such as hello, goodbye, and thank you. One evening, we were passing a group of boys who were making a fire next to the street. We were surprised to hear one of them exclaim in thickly accented English, “Welcome to Albania!” We turned to see him beaming at us.

“Faleminderit shumë!” (“Thank you very much!”) we replied.
Romina has spread the word that an American family is in town. She has 13 aunts and 56 cousins in Berat alone! Those who haven’t heard about us can usually tell we are foreigners, but they usually guess that we are European. One guessed that Sean was a professor from France. The Albanians generally like Americans more than other foreigners.

Most of the people are lively, forward, helpful, generous, outgoing, and hospitable. They enjoy walking and talking with their friends. Even when the shops are closed in the evening, and even while it snows or rains, we can see people—mostly men—strolling down the street in groups of two or three. Men usually walk with men, and women with women. Boys seem to hang out in large groups. Most people are dressed nicely even though many are poor, though we have seen some ragged beggars.

Mornings find the streets and sidewalks bustling with a variety of people and livestock. From our balcony, we watch children walking to school, farmers and villagers bringing their wares to sell in the city, workers going to their jobs, women buying food for the day, and many people just walking with friends. Strange sights and sounds abound. Yesterday, we saw a man ride up to a café on a horse. Tied to the horse’s tail was a donkey with a load on its back. More than once, we’ve seen live chickens dangling upside down from bicycle handlebars.

Several times a day, we hear the chant of the Muslim call to prayer echoing throughout our city. The strange and emotive sound is a reminder of where we are and why we are here. It has become a sort of alarm clock reminding us of our complete dependence on God. We are very excited to be where God wants us to be. Even while we are shivering in a dark house with no power, heat, or running water, we are encouraged that we are in His hands, “and we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose” (Rom. 8:28). We are praising God for bringing us here. There is much work to do. Pray that we will be in tune with God’s will every moment we are here.

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