3 Years Ago

Cory and I first came to Albania in 2012. 

The first year, everything was new. 

The second year it felt like we were coming home. Of course we noticed new things and learned more about the country and the culture but that first wide eyed "shock" was gone. 

Last year we moved here and in living here, learned 1000's of things we never would have on a summer missions trip. 

Cory's parents are here this week for the first time and it's such a blast to show them around because it's as if we are reliving that first summer all over again. 

They are noticing and commenting on things I have long forgotten are weird, or different, or shocking. 

I'm sure in 10 years I will read the blogs from my first year and laugh at what I wrote about. 

Cory's mom has taken a ton of amazing pics of our family but also of Albanian life. Here are a few...

This is a section of the "Pazar." 

It smells of rotten cheese. And everyone wants you to buy their cheese. They even let you taste it. 

The plastic bottles of Fanta are actually filled with olive oil. 

I have yet to learn what many of those herbs are. 

This is what Cory and I call the Sheep swap meet. Every Thursday on this hill, there are hundreds of men and their sheep. And goats. They seem to be "swapping" them. As you drive by in both directions you pass shepherds herding their sheep, or driving them in a horse drawn cart or a beaten up truck. I've never seen anything like it. 

And this, I love. 

I love it because it means so much more to me after living here nearly a year, than it would have if I had seen it before that. 

That sweet old lady is a widow. 

Widows dress in all black after their husbands death. For the rest of their life. A lot of women here are widows for decades.

I didn't know that 3 years ago. 

These clothing shops surrounding her are owned by families. 

They all sell similar things. 

It is their livelihood. 

Every morning and every night they take everything out and put everything back. 

3 years ago I wouldn't have known the weight that lays in them selling a shirt or a pair of socks. 

3 years ago I didn't know any of the words I was hearing. Now I can understand what is going on around me. I recognize the numbers, the questions of "how much is this?" 

And if I had seen this picture without ever coming to Albania, 

I wouldn't be able to hear the shouts of the shopkeepers yelling out the prices of their goods, or the crunch of the gravel under everyone's feet. 

I wouldn't be able to smell the tobacco smoke, the Turkish coffee, or the mothball scent of the clothes. 

I wouldn't be able to feel the dust in the air, the humidity of the weather, or the cash in my hand that has become my only form of payment. 

And when I first came here 3 years ago, I had no idea how dear this place and these people would become to me. 

And I can't wait to know and to understand more. I can't wait until I hear every word. 

And I'm so thankful for how both of our parents have embraced our life here, supported us in every way imaginable and encouraged us with their words and prayers all along the way. 

And this....

what can I say?