From Sokrat Shyti
Part twenty
Memorie.al / The writer Sokrat Shyti is the “great unknown” who, in recent years, has revealed the tip of the iceberg of his literary creations. I say this based on the limited number of his published books in recent years, primarily the voluminous novel “Nata fantazmë” (“The Phantom Night”) (Tirana 2014). The novels: “Përtej Misterit” (“Beyond Mystery”), “Mes Tundimit dhe Vorbullës” (“Between Temptation and the Whirlpool”), “Gërmimet e Makthit” (“The Excavations of Torment”), “Hija e Turpit dhe e Vdekjes” (“The Shadow of Shame and Death”), “Koloneli Kryedhjaku” (“The Chief Colonel”), “Shpresat e Nëmura” (“The Damned Hopes”), “Pështjellimet e Fatit” I, II, “MBIJETESA NË KASOLLEN E LOPËS” (“Survival in the Cow Shed”), as well as other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, remain in manuscript form awaiting publication. The dreams and initial enthusiasm of the young novelist returning from studies abroad, full of energy and love for art and literature, were cut short early by the savage blade of the communist dictatorship.
Who is Sokrat Shyti?
Returning from studies at the State University of Moscow, shortly after the severance of Albanian-Soviet relations in 1960, Sokrat Shyti worked at Radio “Diapazon” (which at that time was located on Kavajës Street), in an editorial office with his journalist friends – Vangjel Lezho and Fadil Kokomani – who both were later arrested and subsequently executed by the communist regime. Besides the radio, 21-year-old Sokrat, if we can picture him then, had a passionate literary interest. He wrote his first novel “Madam Doktoresha” (“Madam Doctor”), which was on the verge of publication, but… alas! Shortly after the arrest of his friends, to top it off, one of his painter brothers escaped abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he was interned along with his mother and younger sister in a place between Ardenica and Kolonje of Lushnje. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a cowshed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout those 27 years, he was legally required to present himself three times a day to the area’s plenipotentiary. He had no right to move from the place of internment and was deprived of any documentation, etc. Under these conditions, amidst a cowshed, he gave birth and raised children. It was precisely from this event, or more accurately, a very long story of persecution, that he based his writing of the book “MBIJETESA NË KASOLLEN E LOPËS” (“Survival in the Cow Shed”)!
Agron Tufa
Continued from the previous issue
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW SHED”
“In Tirana, you were like a kidney among the fat: you lived in an apartment, worked in honorable places. They don’t say for nothing: ‘a twisted tree spoils the whole forest’! The Dictatorship of the Proletariat has the duty to protect the state from wrongdoers who show ingratitude towards the Party and its laws. The evil came from your family member, not from the Government. Therefore, you all must remember this so that you do not bring worse troubles upon yourselves. Now I will tell you the rules that you are required to follow:
You will present yourself three times a day to the Plenipotentiary in the Locale of Kolonje: in the morning, at noon, and in the evening. At first, the owner of the cowshed will accompany you. Later – alone. I trust you understand that after this obligatory presentation, you are not allowed to move around the village, or go up into the woods without informing the owner of the cowshed, who performs the duties of a forest guardian. For any family need, you will turn to him. Even for buying bread and food, he will serve as your supplier. If health issues arise, go together to the Plenipotentiary; he knows where to take you. As for employment, that is up to the local authorities.
Therefore, you must meet with the Chairman of the Locale. He must have received the proper instructions from the Executive Committee of the district on how to act regarding your family. Once again: I urge you to behave calmly and gently, without complaints, before you leave here, as my area covers many villages. Do this not for me, but for yourselves, so you don’t open troubles for yourselves. Otherwise, the measures against you will be worsened; you will fall from the rain into the hail!… Until yesterday, you were a respected journalist. Today, you are declassified, with no front-line status, and without any civil rights! Without these harsh laws, our Socialist Republic cannot remain strong, like a granite rock.”
You should also know that my impressions serve in the Internal Department as basic material for your files, especially for you. I don’t know how you view it. But here, in the cow shed, you will be much more at ease than in the barracks of the internment camps. Because there, there are various types who constantly provoke, harass, and mock you, aiming to rile you up until you lose your patience and end up in a scuffle. At first, it will be somewhat difficult here until you get accustomed. But you are a calm type; you know how to behave with simple people.
They don’t say for nothing: the wise lamb drinks milk from two mothers, while the fierce one from none. For settling and organizing the belongings, the nearest neighbor, the forest guardian, will help you; you will have him as a permanent friend, as he will be there for you in any trouble, day or night, especially in the harsh winter, considering that here on the hill, the north wind bites, and he, as the forest guardian, can secure firewood when the old trees are cut down.”
Generally, I noted what I had in mind. “Leave calmly, as I leave you in safe hands, convinced that I will not have bad disturbances from your side…!” After this lengthy speech, the area operative left, accompanied by the tall military-clad man, the forest guard, to receive additional instructions from him. The owner of the shed returned quickly and immediately set to work. First, he brought in two new rugs, laying them on the dirt floor of the cowshed instead of a proper floor. After covering them with a used carpet, he placed a square sheet metal in the middle, the place for the stove, which would serve for cooking and heating.
In one corner, we put the bread and food cupboard, and in the opposite corner, the bookshelf. Between them, we set up our mother’s bed and a simple wooden table. On the two side walls, we placed two portable beds for the two of us, brother and sister. Beyond that, two trunks would serve instead of wardrobes to hold our clothes and valuables. On top of them, we arranged the mattresses, blankets, rugs, and sheets. Nearby, we set up the sewing machine (the only inheritance our late father left us, the tool with which he worked until his last breath to feed our large family!). Under such difficult conditions, this machine would help us earn a minimal income, considering that fortunately, my sister knew how to use it and would be assisting with tailoring. Next to the sewing machine, we placed the work table, the iron for ironing, and other equipment.
With these furnishings, our shelter was set up, where we would rise and retire, who knows for how long, with an uncertain end. The only way to avoid bringing pain and stress upon ourselves was to adapt as quickly as possible to this way of life. When I went to present myself to the Plenipotentiary of the Locale, I was taken aback by astonishment and shame, as I had never envisioned that the day would come when I would face such a humiliating dependency on my former neighbor!
At the age of 10, my family had lived for several months in the new single-story buildings of the SMT, where in the western part of the same building, the family of this policeman was housed. He had now been promoted to sergeant and held the position of Plenipotentiary for the area, centered in Kolonje. Although he naturally felt proud in front of me for the career he had built over the years, from a simple policeman to a sergeant (which he expressed through an authoritative gaze, as if to say: instead of meeting as friends, life had unexpectedly placed us face to face in such painful conditions: you the punished, I your direct superior!), he felt constrained in how to act towards me since his duty demanded he use a stern tone, considering many eyes and ears were watching us closely.
To avoid this terribly suffocating situation, he raised his voice in a commanding tone: “Get inside the office and wait!” But when he entered his room, he embraced me warmly and asked about my mother’s health.
He expressed his regret for the misfortune that had befallen us. He lamented the selfishness of the fugitive who only thought of his own interests, without caring about the other family members, who would bear the dark mark for keeping the breath of life alive! This humane behavior of my former neighbor, in the position of Plenipotentiary, stripped of threats and arrogance (common phenomena among hardened careerists who want to show off in such situations), significantly alleviated the stress and anxiety that had overwhelmed me during the journey. He advised me in a friendly tone not to trust anyone, even when they acted as if they wished me well and were ready to help.
– “Not even the shirt on your back should be trusted!” – he repeated three times. – “When I told my wife which family had been brought from Tirana to live in the cow shed of the forest guard, her lips trembled, and tears filled her eyes. ‘Why have they been so unfeeling towards these good people?!’ – she asked with a trembling voice. – ‘You know that their family is mentioned in Lushnja as the most distinguished philanthropist. The late father did not leave a single poor person unfed or unwelcomed while he was alive! Oh poor mother Ana, how has she been reduced after this ordeal!… ‘Please, Petro, with whatever you have in your hands, help the poor Sokrat find a job, just enough to buy daily bread!’” – she pleaded with me.
“I know these things myself,” – I replied. – “You need to be careful and prudent in how you talk with the neighbors: just listen, don’t express any opinion!” – I advised her.
– “Don’t tell me what you have in mind, because you want so much to see and embrace mother Ana, since you have loved her like your own mother. But this cannot happen, as we must protect ourselves. I ask the same assurance from you, Sokrat!” – he emphasized with a serious look. – “Therefore, in the eyes of others, I will treat you as my duty requires, while you will keep your head down, as a declassed individual. As for your information: I spoke with the Chairman of the Locale the day I learned you would be coming here. The head of the Internal Department called me a few days ago to inform me about the special task. I remember everything he told me.
He began with the usual advice: “Listen carefully and attentively! The Party is entrusting you with a very important and delicate matter: a family with the surname Shyti is being relocated by decision of the Government Internment-Expulsion Commission from Tirana, and they will be settled in the village of Ardenicë, in the cowshed of the forest guard. Perhaps you have heard of this family, with a well-known name and good background. But one of the most irresponsible members, a painter from the Border Directorate, who escaped from the post in Kapshtica, has tarnished their name…!”
At that moment, I didn’t know how I held myself together and escaped without breaking down when the chairman finished his notification! “Stay calm, Petro, and be a man; think of the children and your wife!” – I told myself to give me courage. – “Just pretend he mentioned another family, with whom I have no acquaintance or friendship, and keep your gaze steady on the chairman’s eyes!”
He further explained to me how I should behave towards the interned family, considering the class struggle; “You will always maintain direct contact with me for any needs. You especially need to be cautious of the provocations from the area operative, who becomes aggressive after the second drink and breathes down the necks of these families. Therefore, assign your most trusted person to observe the cowshed. Keep this as a serious warning: if anything, unforeseen happens to the Shyti family from the zone operative, you will bear the main punishment!”
“The first thing I did when returning to Kolonje was to rack my brain to find a strong reason for not being present when the truck with you and your belongings arrived, as the only way to keep our acquaintance hidden. Because I was perfectly aware that mother Ana would throw herself into my arms and say with tears in her eyes: ‘What sort of misfortune has befallen me, Petro! That rascal left us in the middle of the crossroads! That’s why I concocted an urgent duty in a remote village and left the entire burden of the handover to the area operative. As for the important issue of work, I hope the Chairman of the Locale has found a solution, as I saw him speaking face to face with the director of the SMT. I suspect they must have also addressed your employment.”
– “You must not tell me what is on your mind, because you have a strong desire to see and embrace mother Ana, whom you have loved like your own mother. But this cannot happen, as we must protect ourselves. I ask the same assurance from you, Sokrat!” – he emphasized with a serious gaze. – “Therefore, in the eyes of others, I will treat you as my duty requires, while you will keep your head down, as a declassified individual. As for your information: I spoke with the Chairman of the Locale the day I learned you would be coming here. The head of the Internal Department called me a few days ago to inform me about the special task. I remember everything he told me.
He began with the usual advice: “Listen carefully and attentively! The Party is entrusting you with a very important and delicate matter: a family with the surname Shyti is being relocated by decision of the Government Internment-Expulsion Commission from Tirana, and they will be settled in the village of Ardenicë, in the cowshed of the forest guard. Perhaps you have heard of this family, with a well-known name and good background. But one of the most irresponsible members, a painter from the Border Directorate, who escaped from the post in Kapshtica, has tarnished their name!”
At that moment, I didn’t know how I held myself together and escaped without breaking down when the chairman finished his notification! “Stay calm, Petro, and be a man; think of the children and your wife!” – I told myself to give me courage. – “Just pretend he mentioned another family, with whom I have no acquaintance or friendship, and keep your gaze steady on the chairman’s eyes!”
He then explained to me how I should behave towards the interned family, considering the class struggle; “You will always maintain direct contact with me for any needs. You especially need to be cautious of the provocations from the area operative, who becomes aggressive after the second drink and breathes down the necks of these families. Therefore, assign your most trusted person to observe the cowshed. Take this as a serious warning: if anything, unforeseen happens to the Shyti family from the zone operative, you will bear the main punishment!”
“The first thing I did when returning to Kolonje was to rack my brain to find a strong reason for not being present when the truck with you and your belongings arrived, as the only way to keep our acquaintance hidden. Because I was perfectly aware that mother Ana would throw herself into my arms and say, with tears in her eyes: ‘What sort of misfortune has befallen me, Petro! That rascal left us in the middle of the crossroads! That’s why I concocted an urgent duty in a remote village and left the entire burden of the handover to the area operative. As for the important issue of work, I hope the Chairman of the Locale has found a solution, as I saw him speaking face to face with the director of the SMT. I suspect During the return, the forest guard was cunning; he didn’t ask me at all how the Plenipotentiary treated me, but began the conversation with an interesting description, that all the lands under the road had been flooded and that during the biting winter frosts, flocks of ducks and wild geese would come down here, so many that we often had the chance to shoot them and kill them from the windows of the sheds!…
– They don’t say for nothing: “Within great evil, there is definitely a great good,” – the forest guard emphasized confidently. – “It was amazing: so many geese and ducks would come in winter that they would deafen our ears! And they would fly so low that it seemed like they were attacking us! When you hear this story for the first time, you don’t believe it. But in reality, it often happened. No matter how much it sounds like a fairy tale or a boastful fabrication, I must say that even those who had never handled a weapon trembled when they shot, and if they aimed randomly into the smoke without hitting their target, they didn’t return empty-handed!… Abundance, great abundance!… The game of wild birds kept us alive!” … – he concluded his tale.
– “But is there still game now?” – I asked.
– “Not as much as before. But still, it would be a shame to complain, we get our food! It’s no joke to eat wild meat almost every day when citizens see it through binoculars and call it a banquet for the rich!… Thanks to my profession as a forest guard, I never leave my rifle behind. And while wandering in the hilly forests from morning till night, I definitely shoot whenever a rabbit, fox, marten, or wild boar appears before me!”
– “Have you ever come across bears?”… – I interjected with curiosity.
– “Wild boars, yes!” – he replied with a proud look. – “That’s why I make it a habit to load one chamber of my rifle with solid bullets, specifically for such occasions, especially when passing through the dense forest trails where wild boars roam…”!
– “Aren’t you afraid they might attack you unexpectedly, being all alone?!”… – “I do have fear. But my duty requires me to inspect the dense forests, as the wrongdoers often come here and secretly watch for beech trees to make firewood or sell them in the city. Later, there will come a time to take you with me…”!
– “This is uncertain, considering that my movements outside the village are prohibited! So, it seems like a desire beyond measure…” – I replied, looking at him doubtfully.
– “You are only prohibited from moving alone or with others who do not have that right, but not with me. They didn’t bring you to the cowshed for nothing!” … – he added boastfully.
– “In your opinion, whose idea could this have been?” … – I dared to ask.
– “I was left dazed when the head of the Internal Department called me into his office and informed me that from now on, a family from Tirana would be living in the cowshed of my property! Not only could I not muster the courage to open my mouth for any clarification, but even if I did, he shut me down with finality right from the start: – You have only to take instructions! As for the details, you will receive them from the area operative. But your connection with me will be direct and uninterrupted.”
When I arrived at our miserable shelter, my mother embraced me to give me courage and relieved me with something interesting and hopeful: my sister had given the sewing machine a thorough cleaning, as news had spread in the village about the arrival of a seamstress from Tirana, skilled with golden hands, who could make a dress fit so beautifully on the body that the men would think the woman was marrying!… – “It really is good news for us!” – I said. – “But who spread the news?” – I asked curiously.
– “Who else but the wife of the forest guard? As far as I understand, her husband told her that your sister and my girl could use the sewing machine like a professional, and she didn’t wait long to share the news with her friends when she went to the fountain to fetch water…?!”
– “Who do they call the fountain?”… – I interrupted.
– “The village springs.”
– “So, there’s a spring here; what wonderful news! Because to find quality drinking water in Myzeqe is a great fortune. I also hope to start working these days…” – I replied warmly.
– “What work will they give you?” – she asked, concerned.
– “I don’t know for sure. Regardless, I am obliged to accept any type of work. Of course, they won’t assign me a desk job. We didn’t come here for a verification or transfer but with a nasty label, which will follow us until it pleases them. Therefore, we must be mentally prepared for anything…” – I warned her not to despair. Memorie.al
To be continued in the next issue
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