Albania

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Anew

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When I first started making YouTube videos I never expected it to go far, if anywhere at all. I did have one thought in my head, though, as I put my adventures and thoughts onto the platform. That thought was simply: “It would be cool to get a paycheck from Google for this.”

That was it. I was going to keep making videos no matter if I made money from Google Adsense or not, but in the back of my mind I just thought it would be fun. I kept making videos whenever I felt like it without giving that hope much thought.

Fast forward to summer 2018 as I prepped to move to Albania. I realized that there was little to no content on YouTube about the country. As someone who would always search for videos of a country before I went to visit, I was having trouble. I would see a video from BBC or maybe VICE, but there was no one personally creating content in Albania. I decided to fill that void as best as I could.

My plan was pretty simple; I would start a series entitled “My Albanian Life” and I would format it as a travel show about life, traditions, culture, and history in Albania through the eyes of a foreign host (me). I made videos about different types of traditional foods, delved into the history on bank notes, even tracked expenses to see how much 10€ could buy me in Albania.

My plan was working, I was creating content about an unknown country on the Adriatic and after a few months of weekly videos I was getting recognition for my work. I was interviewed on three national news stations, had a number of internet-based articles written about my work, and even was consistently being recognized on the street as the “American YouTuber.” I would get emails or DMs three or four times a week from people who wanted to visit or move to Albania. I became a bridge between foreigners and this country. Everything was working the way I wanted it to, and I could see my hard work was paying off. Then, in quick succession, a few things happened that threw everything off…

The first was that I got that first paycheck from the ads I was able to finally put on my videos. That initial fun thought had become a reality and it caused me to lose some of my drive to keep going. I had set a goal for myself, I reached that goal, and now I was losing the motivation of what to work for.

Secondly, I realized at the end of 2019 that basically every time I pulled out my camera during that year it was to create an episode for my “show.” I began to edit my yearly recap video and realized I had very little footage of the fun times and good memories of 2019, it was mostly scripted - often staged - moments that don’t really fit together into a feel good, nostalgic montage. When the goal of my yearly recap video is to help me remember the year, those are the moments I want to see. I was missing the parts of my year that made it special.

Third, 2020 hit. We all know what happened. But one of the biggest impacts on my work was that Albania was one of the few countries that remained open, allowing anyone to come in without tests or quarantines. While this was a great opportunity for more tourism in Albania, which was ultimately one of my goals, it had some unintended consequences. I no longer had a monopoly on Albania content on YouTube. People with far bigger platforms than myself had come and were making their own videos and slowly my videos were being pushed out of the search results due to sheer lack of views. Not a problem at all, no. Frankly, it didn’t matter at all. But that showed me that my show had run its course. It had provided the necessary information to those that wanted to come when the world was closed and Albania was open, and now the country was getting more recognition through the platforms of others.

My videos had done their job and were no longer needed.

Thank you to anyone that has watched, subscribed, shared, commented, or anything else. (except those people that stole my footage… definitely don’t thank them.)

But now it’s time for me to move on, it’s time to find a new direction for my channel and what I create. I am not leaving Albania yet, which means many of my videos may still revolve around Albania, but it’s time to make my channel my own. It’s time to include me, my life, my passions. It’s time to start anew.

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Beauty through Brokenness

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I took this photo less than a month after moving to Albania. We had visited a small village a little way up the mountain just outside Pogradec. The border between Albania and Macedonia cuts right down the mountain, and right next to the border is this building. It’s a bit old, but looks older because of how dilapidated it has become over the past few years. I wandered around the inside of the building with my camera trying to find some interesting things to shoot. This frame stood out to me mostly because of the jagged glass shards obstructing the view of the forest on the other side. When I took the photos, that’s all I thought about. When I got home with the SD card and started editing, I realized that it seemed to represent something more…

If you don’t know the history of Albania, I’d urge you to do some quick research. But an extremely brief overview is that the entire country was ruled by a communist dictator for over 40 years. Despite being overthrown almost 30 years ago, the lasting effects of the regime is still found in different places around the country. That being said, there is a beauty that is able to shine through. There is beauty in the natural landscape, there is beauty in the people, there is beauty in the culture, the traditions, and even the language. It is an undoubtedly beautiful country. But, you have to be able to see through the brokenness. I’m not saying to ignore it but rather to see it, accept it, and choose to see the beauty as well.

So, when I pulled this photo up in Adobe Lightroom to edit it, it hit me. This photo represents Albania. Beauty through brokenness. It’s impossible to look at the view without seeing the shattered glass. We can spend all our time talking about how terrible it is that this window is broken, or we can choose to accept that and look past it to appreciate the beauty on the other side.

Hopefully, over time, the window can be fixed. But let’s not let the fact that it’s broken cause us to forget the beauty on the other side.

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Reconsider

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Since buying my van, I’ve tried to go out camping or traveling in it as much as I possibly can. Between my normal day job and the van having modifications done on it, this hasn’t been exactly easy. So when the opportunity presents itself I typically do whatever I can to ensure that it happens.

About a week ago, a few friends of mine suggested that we go for a Saturday night camping trip to Lake Prespa - a large lake that borders Albania, Greece, and Macedonia. It is about a 40 minute drive, so nothing too crazy, but more significant than just parking somewhere close to Pogradec and sleeping.

The days leading up to our trip the weather had been a bit fickle. Each morning we would have rain - sometimes quite heavy - and then the sun would come out and dry everything to the point that you wouldn’t even know it had been raining. Naturally, this resulted in us checking the weather frequently. As anyone who has looked at weather reports would know, they aren’t ever 100% reliable. But each day that week the reports had been almost spot on which gave us even more confidence that Saturday would be no different - rain, and lots of it. We made the decision to just play it by ear and wait to decide what to do when the time came.

I woke up Saturday morning with a headache. While not an uncommon occurrence for me, it does affect my motivation levels to do things like camping. To make things worse, the sky had opened up over night and was absolutely dumping buckets. I texted one of the guys to see if he still wanted to go. He was hesitant. But, he said, another of our group was insisting. They asked me to meet them for a coffee to discuss and make a final decision.

When I got outside the rain had let up slightly but not entirely. We started chatting about when to leave, and what to do. The idea was floated that we could go, and if the weather got really bad we could always turn around and come back. Worst case scenario was we go for a drive and have lunch by Prespa before coming home. I still wasn’t too keen. Within a couple of minutes, the clouds blew over and the sun came beaming through a clear blue sky. It was all the motivation I needed. We parted ways and agreed to meet a bit later to start the drive.

In the two hours that it took us to get things together the sun had come and gone a few times, and each time it left the rain came through. We began our drive with the windshield wipers on, and with high hopes that when we arrived at Prespa those droplets would be gone entirely. As we drove towards the mountain we would have to cross to get to the other lake, the clouds didn’t look too promising.

Knowing that if it was too bad, we could easily turn around and go home to sleep in our warm, dry beds, we pressed on. Still hoping for the best, but knowing that worst wouldn’t be that bad. As we crossed over the pass, up ahead a small sliver of a rainbow showed itself in the sky. A sign of hope. Because, obviously, there couldn’t be a rainbow without the sun, right?

Coming down the other side of the mountain we were greeted by the sight of Lake Prespa. Sun coming from the west, and rain in the northeast. We pressed on, still hoping for the last of the rain to clear out before we settled.

The final leg of the drive was through the sunlight. We knew that we were surrounded by rainclouds, but we had made it this far and we definitely weren’t going to go home without giving this the dedication it deserved. We came to our campsite which ended up being surprisingly dry despite the scattered rain throughout the day. As we set up camp (me finding the most level place to park, and a few of the other guys setting up their tents) the rain drizzled. But by now, we had committed. We were doing this and at this point it would take a torrential downpour to stop us.

As we sat around the fire chatting and laughing we watched the rainclouds move along the mountain on the opposite side of the lake from us. Constantly being alert in case we would want to jump into the van or tents to avoid being completely soaked. A few hours passed and the moon rose shining brightly. It looked like we were in the clear. Around 8pm, one of the guys looked up at the mountain again and noticed a faint light in the sky… he and I had talked about something like this before, but I didn’t expect to ever see it. And I especially never thought I’d be in a position to take photos of it.

It was a rainbow, without the sun.

(Yes, technically, it was by the sunlight reflected off the moon, but just let me have this one okay?…)

Not only did I not know this phenomenon existed, but even if I did know I wouldn’t have expected to witness it. And the only reason I had the opportunity was because I didn’t give in to my initial, gut reaction of being pushed inside by the rain and my throbbing head. So many times in my life I have had to make seemingly unimportant decisions about things like this. The more it happens, the more I realize that even if I am absolutely miserable in the moment and am regretting my decision, once the experience is over I am almost always happy that I went. I am a firm believer that we grow more during the challenges than from the things that come easy. So, let’s reconsider more. Rather than looking at decisions based on “How do I feel about it right now?” let’s look at them in the light of “What will I learn from this? And how might I grow?”

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Sanctuary

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Having lived in Albania for two years now, I have a pretty good lay of the land - especially the land surrounding Pogradec. Back in May, I bought a 4x4 van and I’ve made good use of it exploring even more of the roads that crisscross in the mountains overshadowing Lake Ohrid. That being said, there was one spot that I hadn’t taken the van yet, because I was waiting for the right opportunity.

The primary reason I hadn’t gone to this particular spot was because I wasn’t 100% sure the van could make it. You see, with just normal street tires there are some things that I won’t make an effort to try. I’ve driven most of that road before, but there’s a small section at the end that made me a bit nervous. It’s quite likely that the van could make it, but because of my limited experience driving on these roads I just didn’t want to risk getting stuck when I’m driving around alone.

However, there was another slightly smaller reason. This particular spot is a small reservoir in the hills around the village of Çervenakë (and when I say village, I mean like six or seven houses total). I was introduced to this spot by a friend and it is kind of his secluded getaway. He uses it as a retreat, or even a reward, from the normal working life. I didn’t want to go here alone, because it feels a bit sacred. I don’t want to take over his sanctuary and make it mine, so I’ve made this rule for myself to only go there if he is coming along.

So that’s why, after owning my van for the last few months, this is the first time I’ve brought it to this exact spot. As I partially expected, I made it in and out without any problems with the road, but the reward wouldn’t have been the same had I been on my own.

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Krujë [Albania]

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A few days ago, the municipality of Krujë put together some events for tourists in their city. The first evening, there was free entrance to the museum in the castle, and the following morning there was a food fair. Women from around Krujë prepared dishes that have been in their families for generations to share with the visitors. Meanwhile, for entertainment, a group of musicians dressed in traditional Albanian outfits while they played a variety of traditional songs. A group of local women started some dancing and beckoned for the tourists to join them.

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Bishnica [Albania]

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Friday afternoon: Met Klevis Cane, a graduate student at Nehemiah Gateway University in Pogradec, Albania. Less than 24 hours later I was hiking with Klevis and four of his Albanian friends through the mountains to a glacial lake. At 6 am Saturday morning, we all piled into a van and drove about an hour on a paved road followed by an hour and a half on a dirt/gravel road. We pulled into a small village in the mountains and proceeded to begin our hike further up the mountain.