CIVIL SERVICE WITNESSES: DANIEL'S STORY

‘’Landing on My Feet’’ , di Daniel Kather, Servizio Civile Universale - Fier (Albania)

Life in Fier is difficult to describe to people who haven’t experienced it. In the seven months I’ve lived here, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told my story, and each time something new comes out. The rhythm of this city is like a piece of Albanian folk music: the slightly whistling clarinet can be annoying, too slow and repetitive, yet before you realize it, it gets under your skin, and you find yourself smiling when you hear it in the streets, your feet moving instinctively to a beat that’s now in your bones. To be honest, I don’t really know how I ended up here. A year ago, I was studying to become an engineer, and in the midst of the usual crisis between exams, I sent a CV to apply for a civil service position in Brazil, aiming to live a life as different as possible from the one I was leading. After the interview, when I found out I was eligible but not selected, I put that dream in a drawer and left it there for a while, returning to my student life without thinking about it. Then, one day, I received a call from Federico, and once again, in the middle of exams, I was faced with the possibility of going to Albania for a year, leaving in just a month.

Now, I don’t know how much the average Italian knows about Albania, and specifically about the Fier area; as for me, I’m not sure I could have even pointed out Albania on a map, let alone Fier. Searching for information about this place didn’t yield much—very few YouTube videos, an almost non-existent Wikipedia page, and even fewer blogs or videos from locals. A leap into the unknown. My foolproof technique when I was younger, diving from high cliffs, was to just do it immediately: I’d glance briefly at the water, which always seemed impossibly far away, and jump before any worries had a chance to arrive. So, an hour later, I called Federico back and accepted the project. Fier welcomed me from the very beginning. The children found my long hair funny and enjoyed teasing me when I didn’t understand a thing; Albanians liked explaining to me things I didn’t know, whether a strange word or a local tradition. As often happens when you face a new situation, there’s a long period when everything has the unique color of a freshly unwrapped toy. Even my first interactions with the Romani community were mostly as an observer, and for the first two or three months, much of my work consisted of absorbing as much information as possible. Over time, I realized it would take me far longer than expected to learn Albanian and even longer to understand Albanians.

Practically speaking, my life now consists of three days a week helping children in first to third grade, one day a week supporting a school for children with disabilities, and one day in the office. Additionally, with the other volunteers, we managed to launch a project through fundraising, which allows us to open a community center two or three afternoons a week in the Romani village, where we run educational and sports activities. The truth is, I rarely fully disconnect from this place. When I was studying engineering, I remember arriving home in the evening, sometimes afraid I had forgotten everything I had done that day and would have to repeat it all reluctantly the next day. Here, it’s the opposite—my mind is always there, thinking about a sentence Ergi said today, how little Luksiano is growing, the fact that Ledjon hit me fewer times than usual, or a shy smile from Anaidi that I managed to glimpse. Sometimes I think that even on the day I am no longer here working with these kids, they will always be there in my mind.