Agim Xhafka: In Korça, even the Korçar goes for tourism

2024-03-05 21:09:00, Kulturë Agim Xhafka

I say from the beginning that Korça does not resemble any Albanian city. Maybe it has a little sister Shkodra, but then it is unique. As it seems in its growth, it had in mind attractive models, full of elegance, spirit, warmth, intimacy and not village development, with the first three houses and the others around it like dung on the road. I am lucky to be born in this city. Proud that even when they ask me in America where I'm from, I tell them I'm from Albanian, but from Korça, shut your mind! I'm in Korce.

From the time I was born to the time I graduated, I didn't leave her for more than two weeks. Or on vacation somewhere nearby, or at events and festivals. That's it. Then I grew up among the love of this Little Paris. When I was still in high school, this name seemed a bit ridiculous and comical. That you can't be called like that when you don't live like a Parisian, it made me laugh because we were fed on talons, we watched secretly on TV except for Skopje and we didn't have a refrigerator, tape recorder, or washing machine at home. Except for one phone in the whole palace, at Andrea the tall one who never got tired of climbing the stairs whenever they asked us from Tirana or other cities. But today I say that that designation was good for him.

Since the alleys of my city were designed since 1930, almost as wide as Tirana's boulevard, since on the promenade towards the Majestic cinema I could see Chance Elize, but a little shorter, since the squares of the apartments were so identical that even Paris could not it's like that. Without adding the red of the tiles, the cobblestones with river stones, the big doors of the houses as a welcome call. And the main city slept with its head on the hills and its feet touching the field.

Every torrential rain was joy and every snow turned the roads into natural ski slopes. I grew up in this city. As Korca's son, but also as her lover. When I started my studies, I was so longing for it that I was ready to come running from Tirana. That Korça is not only a city, it is also a nursery of warmth. There among people you feel like a person, respected. There you are appreciated when you are hardworking, knowledgeable, courageous, talented. They love you there when they see that you are born from sincerity, from sedra and from success. Korça was created like this.

From knowledgeable people who loved the land and loved the future. Before being the city of serenades, Korça is the city of immigrants. It seemed strange to turn to America when things were slow in Korca in those years. But the first kurbetli did not run away for food. They were like Columbus, they wanted to extinguish curiosity in distant America. And the Lawn of Tears today is just a plaque. From that far west came so many dollars that no government gave life like those long-lost fugitives.

Korça is called Korça because at the core of citizenship is wisdom. Tell me another province that has produced so many mathematicians. No one. That they did not rank after the difficult, but wanted to show that they were the first. Even in art, theater and film. It is not for nothing that today they say that it is the water of Korca that three out of four inhabitants know how to sing.

Every time I come to Albania from America, I keep my breath in Korca. That I have the graves of my parents, but also my youth. The first morning I wake up there I have great joy, just like when I came on vacation when I was a student. I walk through the alleys, in each one hangs a memory of my life. Here, Klem's house. Today an engineer.

Eli, my best friend, lived next door. Oli lived in this two-story house, now in the USA for years. In the adjacent alley, I broke my hand when we were playing football among the neighbors. In that blue door lived Coseta, my first love, eh, like most of us, I also lived as a failure. But we remind them that they are sweet but deep wounds.

I love Korca very much. I'm glad that I didn't resemble the raped Tirana, the shattered Fier, the concreted Durrës. My Korça now lives as a healthy madam, with many sons and daughters who love her. They give him medical visits, give him the medicines he needs and don't leave him without cosmetics. That is why it has remained beautiful and attractive. The only city that does not resemble Albania, the only one that when you go for tourism you have something to see and taste.

Do I love Korca as much as myself, or do I love him more? Maybe more, maybe as much as my granddaughter, Frida...

In Korça, even the Korçari go for tourism./ CNA