The girls' desperate call: Help us, we're getting married to the can.

Besa, the activist of “World Vision”, easily copes with dances like the circus making 4X4 cars on the old road that once connected Shkodra and Lezha, what is called Torovica Street.

It has come dozens of times in these last months. It has helped schoolchildren and teachers get organized to achieve one thing, seemingly simple, but to those side-by-sides: reopening high school in Torovica. The initiative had taken students by their own government since March.
Two major plagues: almost hopeless poverty and the engagement of girls according to the Kanun have caused the number of students who pass through compulsory secondary education to come down in a frightening way. As we wrestle the few miles that separate the Torovica school from Lezha, we remember that this sad road, in a sense, was the result of the madness of greatness.
In the early 1970 ' s, Enver Hoxha, at the height of his xenophobia and world revolution leader, decided that in Gader, a large and old village located across the Mount of Cararriqi, to build a military aviation field so as not to have his wife in the entire Balkans, though not all over Europe.
The planes came from China, the mountain was driven everywhere by tunnels, and the Golden Airport was born. Lezha, the quiet and ancient city, suddenly became a military city. Well- yeah, all of this, of course, had to be under the <x0... the surveillance of American imperialists and Soviet socialists”, so the second step had to be taken: the old road, connecting Shkodra with the rest of the country, so that the curious eyes of the “the enemy” could not be approached.

Long ago, the Kakarariki marsh, a vast water expanse, had dried up between the Mountain of the Rence and the Cararik. The field was called Torovica (from the Slavic Garbage, Plobal). This way, beside red stones and wild pomegranates, was to cross the new Shkodra route.

And so it was. A prison camp was set up in Malecaj, and 1500 modern-day slaves built the jacket on which we are heading now. The country was later populated with incomes from all poorest areas of the North: Good morning, Dukeagini, Tropoja, Puka... Some palaces along the road were built for them. They are the very ones still standing today. The population brought children, and they brought schools, normal as in all of Albania. But everything changed after 1991.

The first ones who left with one spirit were the many exiles. Then the families of the next villagers. The handover of Lezhe-solder Street turned the entire big field into a large, forgotten pocket. Few now had some reason to pass over the old asphalt plaanga-planga.

Thus began the murderous arrest of Torovica. More than anyone else, that seems to be the feeling of children - those who think more about the future. Finally, the car stopped shaking, we're on the side of the road. A few feet above us, in an upside, is a 9-year-old school. Here, children are starting to shake up adults. Unlike other countries, this school does not bear any hero, patriot, martyr, elder, or youth names. It's just called “The 9-year school Torovice”

This is where the <x0/zysa” awaits us. That's how we're going to call the Coast Flower, our new under principal, apparently remembering our former “zys” Not a few minutes pass, and Elsa and Valentina arrive. Under their direction, the student government in March of this year took a strong initiative.

It says Elsa: “first we didn't think of doing anything big. We just thought about not being cool in the face of the two big wounds in our area. Many of the boys don't go to high school because to get from here to Balldren, or Lezha takes money, you saw for yourself the way. But more serious to us was that of very young engagements.

As in old times, there are still many parents around us - forced by poverty, or simply by the force of habit - when the girls finish school, they lock them in the house, leaving their dreams in the middle. All these girls want to go on school, live a life like everyone else, nothing more.

“Dream between”... While the WV Beast, students and teachers talk about getting to know them, we remember to write that on these sides everything is left in the middle: the road is paved only in one lane and it's getting a little tight, the parents' dream of escaping poverty is also left in the middle, the girls' dream of being just like others, and it's half a dream.

Continues Elsa: “First we prepared invitations for a large meeting. We separated them from door to door. This brought many people together. We have been very careful with parents who have engaged our daughters without asking them. After all, they're our people, we don't want to offend at all. I want to, just make them aware. The response of these parents was, if high school were to reopen in Torovica, so near their homes and controls, yes, then they would send the girls to school, otherwise, they would by no means release. The same was said by the parents of the boys, resulting in their large, affordable expenses. So we decided to head for the Education Directorate in Lezhaw.

Interferent Anita Mehallaj, a <x0); other”: “It's very difficult for parents to give up. I followed two girls who were great students. They were eager to continue in middle school. At least in Balldren, which is closer. I've tried everything. I've been talking to my dad. I have even gone so far as to bring in friends, close relatives, groom, sister-in-law, cousins. No drop, no high school coming in here. From the iron window, it looks like a guy's portrait. This guy's out of middle school too. On his side, some quite gray pigs are rubed in red soil. The boy is curious to hear what happens at his old school. But only curious. Now he's made up his mind. His life will be bagga-wea on the field and his collection of aluminum jars. You see no other way on the horizon.

Fire River intervenes again: “And these themselves must be more combatary. I have a story of mine, personal. I come from Dukagini. That's where we lived before we got here. My greatest desire was to be educated. I was also a good student. I would do anything just to get an education. However, there is also poverty. One day my father told me that I would not continue. There wasn't any money I could get for boarding. I fought, I cried, I cried, I fought. No results. I finally told him that if they don't take me to school, I'm already doing something stupid. They, their parents, were alarmed and finally accepted. I'm not saying that these girls follow my method, maybe it was too much, but that they should be stronger, that yes, that I repeat. That's how my story is. Then I was helped by a “age”, which I found economically. So I became a teacher”.

Valentina relates another story with “age”. “When we were at a meeting in Lezha, she says, it was Martha Fetay, inspector of the Social Service in Lezha. She urged parents not to justify themselves with poverty, to prevent girls from going to high school. She told us that she had lived in an even poorer and more isolated family than these in Torovica, but besides her parents, she had also found an uncle who had insisted on her education to the end. When I told this story to a friend of mine, religiously, now having children, she was filled with tears and said: I wish I had an uncle like this!

Lezha's offices know the problem of Torovica School. At the last meeting in June, they were promised there to solve the problem. However, both elections and changes in government took place, and there has not yet been any light signals in the field of sadness.

Now, students, teachers, and parents remain only in the hope that somewhere, in some large office in Tirana, a “ajajaw” will appear to solve their big problem. Unless you do that, at least admit that it is powerless in front of the Leka Canon, which in the 20th century continues to challenge the internet, globalisation and European Albania. Especially the latter.

A society can be called a good one, if you miss the delicate”

Everything seems to be starting out of consideration. Everyone cheers, but few do. Especially at today's lifetime rate of total selfishly, in the constant race for survival, to capture lost time, to move on.

However, even at times, when not too big events remind us that we are not alone in this world, we are surrounded by very successful people, by normal success, by a little success, and finally, by those we forget not to remember as part of our own, flesh, and strength of our society. These are the most vulnerable part of us, perhaps the most forgotten - disabled children, forgotten among their locks, carelessly gathered in their loneliness, usually dark.

To remind us, others, that a society cannot be called a good one, unless it protects its most delicate part, <x0-World Vision” has decided that over the course of two days, 4 and 5 September, to gather its numerous activists in central Tirana and do it with important experts and figures dealing with these social plagues.

The event is called “The Social Justice Festival” and aims to awareness the society of children's rights and young people, be they limited, or not. According to a recent survey by “World Vision”, there are 70 thousand, close to 10.7 percent of children in Albania, affected by various forms of limited capacity. Of these, only 92 percent receive needed care. Figures are alarming, they have to scare everyone, parent or not.

At the renovated New Bazaar, we will be able to attend an already-known photographer Bevis Field exhibition. This will remain open until September 10th. A day later, starting in the morning, activists of “WV” will discuss with officials and experts at the Orthodox Cathedral Cultural Complex in Tirana, to shake up our public opinion about the rights of children and young people. They hope for one thing: for their voice to be heard. It's not much for a society that has already started to consider itself Europeanized. (f.b.)

“M E KANUN!”
The Kanun wants the letter and the father, or the boy's brother, on the night appointed to take the girl's parent “to his father.
As soon as they get in, the writer has to stir fire, once he does that, he starts talking.

After having had dinner, the groom's father hands the paperwork both money and “sheimen”. The writer stands up and gives them to the girl's father.

) “See” consists of a copper or silver ring. This one neither changes nor returns as long as the bridegroom lives.

When he gets to the kid, he's free to let the girl go, but like <x0...

Before I separate the girl, the boy has to let the writer know, and he and two friends go to the girl's father and publicly tells her that he is free to adopt the girl elsewhere.
The engaged girl has no right to separate her son, even if she dislikes him.

If the engaged girl refuses to marry her fiancé, and her parents support her, then she cannot marry as long as the first fiancé is alive anymore.

In this case, the girl's parents should return all the money they have received from the groom's parents.

) If the girl doesn't listen to her fate and has an argument with her parents, then the groom has the right to kill the <x0folder on the pair of” and the girl's blood is not known because she was killed with her parents' bullet.

Even if you don't have parents, your daughter's right to think about her own marriage, right belongs to your brothers or relatives.
The girl has no right to choose her fate, she will go to her fiancé.

The girl is entitled to the letter or engagement.

Lubonja Freedom: Red Square of the Camp and Windowless Cells
“... In the board, the car left the main automobile route on the left of which was Torovica, named after the camp on the right, on a badly maintained road, the hole.

We finished our journey, and suddenly we had poplars, fruit trees, flower Sophs, and some grape tents on a belvede, paved with cement. I was relieved for a moment by the weight of the flat, high mountain to which we were going.

But this flowering garden, which was the environment, that once surrounded the former neighbor's buildings, did not last long. At the end of it, the large gate of the camp, half turned horizontally with the ground, the other half uprooted.

It separated the former primers' green environments from the rest of the former camp, which met us with its obvious ugliness.

Some semi-torn building a story, stripped of doors, windows, there and the tiles. Some steps like amphitheaters where the meetings were held with the inmates and next to them, the first palace, built as if worse and placed at the base of a hill. Then came the other building, and there was before them a great square, paved with red dust. Carshia stood up without a soldier, quite high, melted in iron and concrete, and another, on the other side.

In a corner of the square, by the side of the second building, there was a building like a log, with windows the size of a sopraluche. It took us a few moments to see that they were punishment cells. Last one had no windows at all. The Red Square of the camp was quite filthy, not only of the garbage that was thrown into the camp but also of some plateaus, large moisture stains that were standing on the ground.

It was the sewage that came out of the hydrosanitary pipes that had broken the very residents of the camp for unlocking. Some of them came from remote villages in the north, wcs so different from those in the city's apartments, so they had the idea that those narrow tubes didn't accept anything strong, inert...”.

(Liri, Lubonja, Far and Among People, Word, Tirana 2003).
Father Zef Plumpi: My collection of evil spirits
“... My family lived with a farmer because the mountain had no bread and no irrigation. They planted alfal, ass, and reed. Few houses and many livestock were on the mountain.

Our house carried many sheep.
We only had one goat back then. There were marshes on the mountain floor. It was a huge asset not only for the fish, which was very easy but also for grazing cows and horses. A little without the autumn falls, she also had a good gram for the fat bee. We were on the shore of the two huge moors - the one that stood open to ashes and the oxen that were quiet when they were needed, especially in the bad weather, and the other stood with the door, where the calves were tied.

Man thus took advantage of the depth of Amorean nature. And when the calf lowed with a low voice that the water had taken it away, the cow's mother knew the fairy, and the sheep of the sheep, and she gave him suck. On the shore these moors were so isolated, that's- our pia had another attack to sail.

Soul was called a large body of poplars hollowed out and made into vessels, with fish.

I was being carried daily by that sul and tried to drive in the water of the swamp where it was deeper. Most of the time spent in the woods or you read a book, or you dealt with the people of the forest that are so many. During that time, I was able to make a beautiful collection, especially insects and butterflies. One day I found an old snake, from there the money they change in the spring. It was a rare specimen, which was 2,50 meters long.

I went to New York early in the morning, folded it, and brought it home with the collection of beautiful insects, there on a shelf. You enjoyed that cholera, so you didn't feel so much the frustration I had in my brain. But one day... my father had opened the shelf and saw all those brilliant insects and colorful butterflies. They waited for such a view.

He had shouted: Who brought all the evil spirits that have the mountain home? He knocked them down. You left him when he was in the trunk, and the snake's skin didn't hold back. Like, the devil's skin brought him home? We don't need magic and lots.

We believe in Christ, the true religion! Out! Get me out there and burn me with fire. I don't like bad spirits! We've got enough of these guys around us! He said Communists...

From Fatos Bajaku