By Sokrat Shyti
Part Two
Memorie.al / Writer Sokrat Shyti is the “great unknown” who, for several years, has revealed the tip of the iceberg of his literary creativity. I say this based on the limited number of his published books in recent years, mainly the voluminous novel “Nata fantazmë” (Tirana 2014). The novels: “PËRTEJ MISTERIT”, “MES TUNDIMIT DHE VORBULLËS”, “GËRRYERJET E MAKTHIT”, “HIJA E TURPIT DHE E VDEKJES”, “KOLONELI KRYEDHJAK”, “SHPRESAT E NËMURA”, “PËSHTJELLIMET E FATIT” I, II, “MBIJETESA NË KASOLLEN E LOPËS”, as well as other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, are in manuscript form awaiting publication. The dreams and initial enthusiasm of the young novelist, returning from studies abroad filled with energy and love for art and literature, were cut short early by the ruthless blade of the communist dictatorship.
Who is Sokrat Shyti?
Returning from studies at the State University of Moscow, shortly after the interruption of Albanian-Soviet relations in 1960, Sokrat Shyti worked at Radio “Diapazon” (which at that time was located on Kavajë Street), in an editorial team with his journalist friends – Vangjel Lezho and Fadil Kokomani – both of whom were later arrested and subsequently executed by the communist regime. In addition to the radio, 21-year-old Sokrat had passionate literary interests at that time. He wrote his first novel “Madam doktore” and was on the verge of publication, but… alas! Shortly after the arrest of his friends, to top it off, a brother of his, a painter, fled abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he was interned with his family (his mother and younger sister) in a location between Ardenica and Kolonje in Lushnja. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a cow shed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout the 27 years, he was legally required to report three times a day to the regional commissioner. He had no right to leave the place of internment and was deprived of any type of documentation, etc. In these conditions, amidst a cow shed, he gave birth and raised children. Specifically, based on this event, or more precisely a very long history of persecution, he was inspired to write the book “Survival in the Cow Shed”!
Agron Tufa
Continued in the next issue
PART OF THE BOOK “Survival in the Cow Shed”
Aside from me, the members of my family were also bewildered and disappointed by this disorder! Because no one with good sense can accept that a state body at the grassroots level, such as the education section, is unaware of the announcement from a year ago from the center that the drama department at the Artistic Lyceum has closed its doors?! Therefore, we didn’t know what to call this chaos caused by paradoxical official incompetence! Understandably, I bore the consequences of this incompetence: I spent a year at home, reading dramas, tragedies, comedies, novels, and stories!…
But I dedicated myself even more to the experiences of traumatic scenes, the struggles to secure survival during the terrible years of bread scarcity, when we would spend entire nights waiting in line with a bag on our heads at the corner of the sports field to buy, at dawn, special bread at five times the price! The emaciated faces, transformed by hunger, appeared before my eyes: to prevent our throats from drying, we would drink cups of sour milk…!
In these threatening health conditions, our wonderful father made efforts and found various ways to secure bread from the farmers, whom he asked to pay the value of the seam allowances in kind. This perfect solution helped both parties, as it eased the payment obligations for the hardworking farmers and allowed us to feel the crushing consequences of the crisis less than most, as we primarily saw our salvation in eating wild cabbage and boiled nettles, with a handful of cornmeal!…
In September of the following year, I was granted the right to study at a well-known high school in the northern city of Shkodra, as a boarder. It was the first time I traveled alone, and I would live four years away from my family. Like every boy my age, I became curious to learn something about boarding life, where I would spend three-quarters of my time over those four years. But initially, my attention was drawn to the difficult journey, especially the means of transportation, the narrow ‘SAT’ buses, where one could barely fit and reach their destination through that threadbare corridor.
And the most problematic part was buying the ticket, because one had to queue at the ‘Sahat’ agency for endless hours. The very narrow spaces of the winter buses, left as war spoils after the country’s liberation, with that dripping ventilation like bread rations, created a near-asphyxiating condition for the passengers and prevented us from seeing and enjoying the landscapes outside the windows during the journey. Thus, everyone eagerly awaited the arrival at the terminal station to stretch their legs and catch their breath.
Even when I sat at my desk, he continued whispering in soft tones, sharing delightful absurdities, to create in me the convincing impression that nothing special had happened, therefore it was not worth causing myself excessive worries. And he was partially right. Because at that moment, no one was thinking about the great discomfort I would feel when the math teacher mentioned my name and, as was customary, I would rise to the blackboard, as in every lesson, to solve the difficult problem of the homework.
Then, afterwards, he would ask me to explain the lesson, convinced that I had mastered it and delved deeply into its complexities, therefore I would undoubtedly manage to clarify and make it understandable for the majority of the class.
“I don’t know why, but today it seems you had a more vigorous inspiration than other days!” – the teacher said at the end, as I successfully completed the assignment, my face flushed up to my ears as I eagerly awaited to sit back down. – “I believe your classmates must have told you, so I want to emphasize this with complete seriousness: do you realize how well this kind of presentation suits you?” – he added with a smile.
The math teacher was not satisfied with just this: he conveyed this impression to other colleagues, who, after casting a quick glance at me, expressed the same thing in front of the class, although they did not call me to the blackboard to explain something. This teasing prompted my desk mate to continue his absurdities, intending to finally dispel the troubled thoughts caused by my unwanted change in appearance.
On this day, the school principal called me into his office. This unexpected request startled me and threw me into a labyrinth of doubts, without having a clear suspicion. Therefore, initially, I turned to the classroom teacher, hoping that perhaps he would give me a bit more clarification on why I was called, certainly excluding the haircut, as it seemed an absurd thought to be summoned to the principal’s office because I was stressed and felt overwhelmed. The classroom teacher shrugged, conveying with this gesture; that he had no idea, and walked away.
So, with a heavy burden in my chest, I knocked (it seemed terrifying that he would see me with this changed appearance, like students from the re-education school) and waited for the word; “come in!” to open the door. To ease my troubled spiritual state, the school principal, like a psychologist with deep intuition, (who better than him could analyze the subject of psychology!), began the conversation naturally, without mentioning any specific taunts, saying that today he had frequently heard my name mentioned in the Council of Teachers.
“For a moment I thought that our esteemed professors were expressing their maximum appreciation for your correct answers,” – he continued, casting a curious glance at my changed face. – “To completely liberate you from the constraints caused to anyone when they undergo an external change, I want to tell you that I know what has happened in your dormitory. In my opinion, it was a quite reasonable action. And in particular, you, as a clever boy, should not feel resentful about the haircut. This is just an introduction, because I did not call you to discuss why your name has been mentioned more today. We have another matter to address, which concerns both of us…” – he emphasized with a deep gaze. (At this point, a chilling tremor coursed through me!)
– “Yesterday a request came to the director from the Chairman of the Department of Internal Affairs… (At that moment, the blood rushed to my feet!). – The request is solely related to the school; no specific name was mentioned,” – he clarified to calm me down. – (Even though after these words, it felt as if my blood began to drain away, I still felt troubled, not understanding why this was being conveyed to me, a second-year student, when the issue presented concerned the Directorate and the Pedagogical Council?!). –
“According to an order from above, the officers of the Department of Internal Affairs must attain a secondary education. The general approached the school director for assistance in assigning a professor for the exact sciences to explain one or two hours of mathematics, physics, and chemistry each day. Certainly, the basic knowledge, without going into details. Although on the outside it seems like an easy task, in fact it presents itself quite complex because no professor willingly agrees to teach the officers of the Department of Internal Affairs. You are a clever boy and you can imagine the great pressure placed on a professor when they find themselves ready for two hours in front of several senior officers!
As a high school director, an immensely heavy burden fell upon me, caught between two fires: the general expects a quick response. Meanwhile, I find myself at an impasse because I dare not point to any professor, knowing the strong opposition of each concerning this request. Under these circumstances, the only solution to get out of such a difficult situation was your name, the unanimous excellent impressions of the professors regarding your preparation and mastery of every subject, especially the exact sciences. Therefore, I decided: you will be the professor for these officers for a few months! I have spoken with the dormitory director so that you won’t have any obstacles.” – “Will consultations take place here at school?” – I asked, quite shaken by the assigned task.
“Certainly not at school. They will choose the location themselves,” – the principal explained, relieved that I did not exhibit any opposition, as he might have expected to hear; “I am a student; I cannot fulfill the role of a professor!” (But my family upbringing did not allow me to make this objection, considering the other fact that all the professors knew that during mathematics classes, I would break down the new lesson).
The school principal told me to sit in the chair next to his desk and called the chairman of the Department of Internal Affairs, a well-known general, who was mentioned for his extraordinary strictness; it was said everywhere that the trees along the road shake when he passes by! (Perhaps because he possesses this natural ferocity and brings blood to the brow, the power structure made an exception, appointing for the first time a general as the head of the Department of Internal Affairs in the district and region with the most pressing issues, aimed at dismantling and martyring the Catholic Clergy).
“Which professor have you assigned?” – the authoritarian voice was heard from the other end of the line. – “Even if I tell you the name, it won’t mean anything to you…” – the principal replied. – “Has a young one come in recently that I still don’t know?” … – the voice asked with surprise. – “These are the young talents who will replace us tomorrow…” – the principal added. – “I understand. Since it cannot be said over the phone, I will send one of my assistants to the school to accompany him now to the Department of Internal Affairs, as consultations will be held in one of the classes here…” – said the general. With that, the phone connection was cut off.
“You are a clever boy and you understand some things that are not spoken. This conversation will remain between us,” – emphasized the principal with a focused gaze on my eyes. – “And one more thing for you to keep in mind: to avoid attracting the attention of the dormitory students and caretakers, you will head to the designated location, without the accompanying officer they have in mind, at the meeting point. I will speak with the dormitory director to ensure you face no impediments to entering and leaving. Do not take this mission with hesitation or shame. I have a premonition that this will be beneficial…” – he added.
At that moment, the sound of a car engine came from outside. The principal stuck his head out the window and said: – “Your escort has arrived. Don’t be alarmed by the uniform’s presence. You will quickly become accustomed to it, and it won’t impress you at all.” There was a knock on the door, and it opened immediately, without waiting for the welcoming word; “Come in!” A tall officer presented himself, with the rank of lieutenant colonel.
“Here is your professor…” – said the principal, directing his gaze towards me after shaking the officer’s hand. The lieutenant colonel looked at me with frozen surprise, as if I appeared before him completely unexpectedly, one of the wonders of the world. “I believe the general has informed you…” – the lieutenant colonel stammered, still unable to come to terms with the fact that, instead of a professor, he was seeing a shorn boy around sixteen, dressed in shorts.
“Certainly, I have discussed this with the general…” – the principal added. – “I want to tell you in advance that you will be satisfied with Sokrat’s explanations, just like your classmates and the school professors…” – he further reinforced his explanation. – “From my side, I have full confidence that you will handle this properly, as befits your ability and readiness…” – he emphasized, casting an intelligent glance at me. – “Certainly, we will know to reward to the maximum the efforts of the young professor, so that he feels better and more at ease than in his own home,” – said the lieutenant colonel.
“May we leave, dear director?” – And he stood at attention, clicking the heels of his boots, saluting like a soldier, holding the door open for me to go first. – “According to orders, we will go directly to the general, so you can get acquainted and hear his instructions,” – he added as we descended the stairs and exited into the courtyard. A chilling tremor coursed through my body! I could hardly imagine myself in front of a general with such a terrifying presence. But fortunately, at that moment, a somewhat reassuring explanation came to my mind: Pretend that you are greeted by a relative you see for the first time. And to avoid discomfort, keep your eyes away from the shining insignia of rank.
In the waiting room, which served as the entrance to the general’s office, a pleasant young woman with curly hair opened the door for us. It seemed that she was expecting us, perhaps informed by the school principal over the phone. Her curious gaze lingered for several seconds on my youthful appearance, primarily focusing on my shorn head and shorts (causing a rapid flush of embarrassment): it was still hard to believe that a boy with no hair and such simple clothing was labeled by the high school director with the coveted title of professor!
Fortunately, the meeting with the general lasted about a minute, without anyone else’s presence. To calm me, he told me that he knows my family through the name of my older brother, whom he had seen several times on the stage of the National Theater.
“Now let’s move on to our problem,” he added after the brief introduction: “since the principal of the High School calls you professor, I will refer to you the same way. It is essential that you feel confident and honored with the assigned task. Because it will be a significant plus in your biography when the time comes for your scholarship application. Until today, I do not know of another case where a student of your age has been given such an opportunity to impart knowledge and scientific insight to high-ranking officers.
Therefore, unleash all your teaching abilities so that my officers can gain the necessary knowledge. I wish you well in your work! During this time, they will treat you like the apple of their eye, to help you fill all the deficits you have encountered due to the lack of food in the dormitory and to create reserves for the future…” – he added with a metallic smile, which grated on my ears. Memorie.al
Continued in the next issue
Copyright©“Memorie.al”
All rights to this material are the exclusive and untransferable property of “Memorie.al,” according to Law No. 35/2016 “On Copyright and Related Rights.” Copying, publishing, distributing, transferring, etc., without the authorization of “Memorie.al” is strictly prohibited; otherwise, any violator will be held liable under Article 179 of Law No. 35/2016.
