By Sokrat Shyti
Part Thirty-Six
Memorie.al / The writer Sokrat Shyti is the “great unknown” who, for several years now, has shown the tip of the iceberg of his literary creativity. I say this based on the limited number of his published books in recent years, primarily the voluminous novel “Phantom Night” (Tirana 2014). The novels: “BEYOND MYSTERY,” “BETWEEN TEMPTATION AND WHIRLPOOL,” “THE DIGGING OF NIGHTMARES,” “THE SHADOW OF SHAME AND DEATH,” “THE HEAD OF THE COLONEL,” “THE HOPELESS HOPES,” “CONFUSIONS OF FATE” I, II, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW’S HUT,” as well as other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, are in manuscripts waiting to be published. The dreams and the initial fervor of the young novelist returning from studies abroad full of energy and love for art and literature were abruptly cut short by the harsh edge of the communist dictatorship.
Who is Sokrat Shyti?
Having returned 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. Besides the radio, the 21-year-old Sokrat, if we can imagine him, had a passionate interest in literature at that time. He wrote his first novel “Madam Doctor” and it was on the verge of publication, but… alas! Immediately after the arrest of his friends, as if to fill the cup, a brother of his, a painter, fled abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he and his family (with his mother and younger sister) were interned in a location between Ardenica and Kolonje of Lushnje. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a cow shed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout those 27 years, he was legally obliged to appear three times a day before the local authority. He had no right to leave the place of internment and was deprived of any kind of documentation, etc. In these conditions, amidst a cow shed, he gave birth to and raised his children. It is precisely based on this event, or rather a very long history of persecution, that he was inspired to write the book “Survival in the Cow’s Hut”!
Agron Tufa
Continued from the previous issue
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK “SURVIVAL IN THE COW’S HUT”
“Once the drafting of the list for new recruits received final approval and was sent by secure mail to the relevant mobilization directorate in the Ministry of Defense (an action that implied that no changes could be made without a major order from above), the secretary of the Military Branch went to the Cultural House to inform the service staff. He told them to let me know that tomorrow after four o’clock, we would meet behind my sister’s house. Considering that his movements were being monitored by invisible shadows, after drawing up the list for new recruits (especially in this particular case, where the chairman of the Executive Committee was interested), he placed great importance on finding a safe place that wouldn’t be eavesdropped on or noticed.
After thinking it through carefully, he deemed the most appropriate meeting spot to be the yard behind my sister’s house, which sat on a raised area, protected by a retaining wall and surrounded by dense reeds along its entire length, completely invisible from all directions, so much so that it couldn’t even be seen from the narrow path leading to the stream. It was precisely this choice of such an inconspicuous place that caused me anxious concern, considering that it was the secretary of the Military Branch who was seeking me out. Automatically, this led me to speculate about the mystery of an urgent matter that surely concerned me.
And finally, I suspected what it was about: Someone from the high authorities of the district (most likely the chairman of the Executive Committee, a relentless adversary and vengeful towards me), had disturbed the Ministry of Defense, asking for their opinion on how to specifically deal with my case regarding military service. After this disturbance, there must have come a definitive order: to call me like all recruits with a tarnished biography, who are sent to perform service in labor units, as the declassified! (The communist people’s power specifically created this form of modern serfdom in the bright era of socialism, assigning recruits hoes and shovels instead of weapons!)
This terribly insulting and degrading mentality troubled me more than anything else when the secretary of the Military Branch, dressed in civilian clothes to avoid being noticed, briefly explained to me why the mobilization order was issued for me. And at that moment, to calm me somewhat, he emphasized something important, as the only option he could offer: in my profile sent to the Ministry (a copy of which goes to the unit where the service is performed), the best qualities have been noted, so that the command can consider special treatment, not to lump me in with semi-illiterates who only deal with agriculture.
– ‘I cannot do anything more than this…’ he added with a desperate look after delivering the bitter news. – ‘As much as I hoped and prayed that this second exile wouldn’t happen, considering that I served three consecutive years as a punishment in a cow shed, the internal gnawing still opposed me, telling me that the blow would be just as surprising as the internment.’ In every phenomenon, the unwritten law appears: within great good, there lies an equal evil.”
“Taking into account how much I endured during those three years in the cow shed, the current twists and turns seem like miracles descended from the sky. Nevertheless, in my view, even this mandatory military service, aside from the economic damage and the injury to pride that they lead you to the labor unit, I hope will bring improvement to my biography, thanks to my special skills as a journalist with cultured behavior.
Because it’s rare for talented people to serve in military units, for whom the commissars have great need. From my experience, I’ve observed that in every large military unit, there are officers with high demands of themselves who want to display their knowledge and culture before individuals with literary and artistic inclinations. You, fortunately, have an inclination for both literature and theater. Thus, you will find a suitable ground to spend your time pleasantly, and also to win the sympathy of senior officers.
– ‘I thank you for the moral and spiritual support you have given, doing your utmost to prepare my profile!’ – I said in the end when I realized that the secretary of the Military Branch had nothing else to express, and further prolonging the conversation would place him in a difficult position. To tell the truth, the premonition of the bitter message of mandatory military service first emerged in my brain as a threatening nightmare after the dismissive and indifferent meeting with the chairman of the Executive Committee, who received me with ferocity and arrogance and shattered my hopes for the future. I formed the conviction that towards me and my family, there would never be a softened human response from his side. In fact, it seemed to me that he felt pleased to respond so fiercely, directly throwing his hatred in my face, that ‘from me, you can only expect permanent hostility. I am ready to make your life as dark and hellish as possible!
Therefore, the most suitable place for you is the military farms, where you’ll feel like a budded frog working the land and you sense yourself as a serf and slave, because you receive no monetary reward, except for meager food, which is given conditionally, only if you meet the heavy daily quota! But after this fierce and contemptuous meeting, years passed without any harassment regarding mandatory military service, so much so that I got the impression they had left me forgotten, since the terrifying dwelling in the cow shed and the employment as a porter fully satisfied the class envy of the chairman of the power. In fact, this extended state of ‘forgetfulness’ continued until the emergence of a surprising significant turn (which occurred thanks to the energetic and benevolent intervention of the main Party leader in the district). Its emergence woke me from lethargic sleep in my memory, the bitter message of mandatory military service.
After this moment, the permanent suspicion began to prick at me again, that every great prosperity is born coupled with a vengeful twin. This implied that a sudden and fierce blow awaited me, to show the First Secretary of the Party Committee that the power’s malevolence even manifests itself where you least expect it. I had no doubt that immediately following the direct collision between the two main leaders of the district (regarding the survival of my family), in the spider’s mind of the Executive chief, the webs of traps would swiftly weave.”
“Based not only on the direct three-minute meeting at the beginning of my arrival but also on various hearsay, I formed the conviction that he becomes merciless when his prestige and authority are touched even slightly, especially when his dignity is violated by the Party chief. Therefore, he does not rest for a moment until he finds a way to hit me from behind, to take revenge, mainly to show his supporters just how cynically, fiercely, skillfully, and determinedly he can settle the scores for the diametrically opposed positions of class struggle against a former declassified journalist.
It is entirely natural that the bitter news weighed down my spiritual state so much that after the departure of the secretary of the Military Branch, I remained sitting for a time on the wooden trunk near the doghouse, not knowing where to go. ‘Çapi’ came around, rubbed against me, and licked my hand to ease my despair, wanting to comfort me with his loyalty. When he saw that I paid him no attention, he ran towards the house to inform my brother-in-law, with whom he had an understanding, and shortly after, both of them came together.
– ‘Has the angel brought you bad news?’ – asked my sister’s husband when he saw me distressed.
– ‘Did you meet with him?’ – I replied with a sad look.
– ‘He explained to me, quite upset, that he had no way to delay the summons, as your name had been marked by the higher-ups. Although he didn’t provide any further explanations, nor did I press further, it was enough to understand that the secretary of the Military Branch could not help you…!’
– ‘I have more or less an idea of who has stirred my name…!’
– ‘From here, or from Tirana?’ – he wanted to know.
– ‘The same person who welcomed me with hostility when I arrived at the beginning,’ – I replied.
– ‘Did the angel tell you this verbally, or do you figure it out yourself?’ – he inquired.
– ‘The angel did as much as he could: he drafted a wonderful profile for me, so I would be viewed favorably by the unit’s command. And I know this as an honor.’
– ‘Are you disheartened because all recruits will be sent to labor units?…’
– ‘Of course, that fact also saddens me, considering that the commanding officers of these military units are fiercer and harsher than the brigadiers of agricultural farms…’ I emphasized with a sigh. – ‘According to him, the forced assignment to the Labor Battalions is a continuation of survival in the cow shed for two more years. Nevertheless, I do not want to believe he has nurtured such revenge and malice against me, that even after three years, he has not forgotten his vendetta…’ – I added, quite nervously.
– ‘Who are you talking about?’ – asked my sister’s husband, puzzled.”
“- ‘About the chairman of the Executive Committee. I’ve already told you how he greeted me with open threats and cut me short: For the declassified, there is no work except for the hoe and the shovel!’
– ‘Do you believe it was precisely he who intervened?’ – Stavri added with a scrutinizing look.
– ‘A thousand percent!’ – I replied with determination.
– ‘No explanation shakes me from this belief. If it weren’t for the favorable changes that will bring significant improvements to our lives, thanks to the support of the First Secretary of the Party Committee, I am certain that my name would not appear on the list of recruits. For me, the conscription notice for mandatory military service can only be understood as revenge from the chairman of the Executive Committee against the decisions of the First Secretary, the consequences of which I will bear on my back, to show the great Party chief that your ‘attempts’ to appear as a liberal chief have not saved your former journalist from the quarantine of the declassified. In the labor battalion, I will toil for two years, just as I did in the cow shed. And don’t be surprised if I return from there with a marred reputation!’
– ‘It can’t get worse than this…’ – Stavri added to comfort me.
– ‘Malice and hatred have no end. Especially when both are present together, they concoct many forms that adapt the military regulations to bind one’s hands…!’
– ‘You are a decent and reasonable guy; you don’t tread on rotten boards…’
– ‘Of course, I will be very careful not to give them a reason to punish me. But right now, my main concern is how to tell my mother the bitter news, as I am convinced that it will seem to her as if I am being thrown in prison!…’ I added with a deep sigh. – ‘She must be a big-hearted mother!’
– ‘Naturally, your absence will multiply her pain and distress. But fortunately, she won’t be alone as she was these first three years when we didn’t dare to visit each other. Now that the barrier of prohibition has been removed, she will sometimes stay here with us and sometimes at the house in Kolonje. This is very important, both for you, as you leave with a heavy heart, and for us. As for the economic side, we’ll manage in some way. I hope and believe that Dhorën will be admitted soon to the sewing cooperative…!’
– ‘Has someone told you this, or do you think it yourself?’ – I asked, worried.
– ‘The state is obliged to employ her to ensure the family’s survival. Now she meets the requirements: she has the seamstress certification, and look at it this way, after a normal placement and the decision from the First Secretary to work in education. So there are no material obstacles to her admission to the sewing cooperative,’ Stavri insisted to calm me. – ‘Therefore, to carry out our duties in a timely manner, let’s divide them: I will talk to mother.
You go meet and inform Lika so she doesn’t hear it from others, as you know that news travels faster than the wind…! You need to control yourself and not show any distress. For now, don’t mention the most worrying part that you will serve in a labor brigade, as this information significantly burdens her psychological state and stresses her out. Every girl feels hurt when imagining her fiancé in a unit with declassified recruits…!’
– ‘I keep it in mind, I keep it in mind,’ – I repeated as I left the place. But in truth, I wasn’t clear on how to broach the painful news. ‘Çapi’ accompanied me to the edge of the yard, indicating that he had heard the conversation and sensed my anxiety. On the way, I wanted to calm myself down and determine exactly how the conversation regarding the bitter news should unfold, whether it should happen inside her house in the presence of mother Ulë, or separately with Lika, as we took a walk along the asphalted street towards the Agricultural Research Institute?!”
“When I crossed the large bridge over the stream, I noticed the assistant to the First Secretary exiting through the iron gate of the villa where the Party chief lived, and I purposely walked to the other side of the road to confront him, to find out if the Military Branch had informed him. He greeted me with a smile and remarked that the weather was holding warm, just as it should be for young couples to stroll.
– ‘Enjoy these moments as much as possible, as they are irreplaceable, and have an extraordinary intoxicating sweetness!’… he added, wishing me a pleasant walk.
From this wish, I formed the impression that either the secretary of the Military Branch hadn’t yet notified him, or that he wouldn’t burden my spiritual state by mentioning the bitter news, thinking instead that I was going for a meeting. But when I entered the path leading to the garden, in front of the single-story residential buildings, I was struck by an internal emptiness that overwhelmed me, and the previous determination evaporated, as I felt unsure if I would find the strength to comfort her and tell her that these years pass quickly, and during this time, our love would become more divine, because mentally we would be together twenty-four hours, despite being physically apart.
Caught up in this thought, I did not notice her silhouette appearing before me like a forest nymph, entering into my imagination to nourish my desires! Apparently, she was in the yard at that moment, and as soon as she spotted me, she hurried to come forward, showing that even when I am not physically present, I am always in her spirit and mind!
– ‘The evening is quite beautiful! Would you like to go for a walk?’… she asked me with sparkling eyes, coming closer.
– ‘We seem to have the same thought…’ – I replied, pulling her closer to me.
– ‘Then I’ll let mom know,’ – she added happily.
– ‘I’ll wait five minutes while I get dressed.’ And she left with hurried steps. I had never felt so unsettled around her before this moment. Because just as we were looking forward to the intoxicating breeze of spring, to be enveloped by meetings filled with thrilling anticipation, and the kisses intoxicating us with the sweetness of love’s nectar, we were about to part from each other for two whole years!
Where would I find the strength to comfort the girl of my heart, when I myself was almost falling apart?! Just when we thought we had managed to get through the most frightening barrier, believing that after the rainbow emerges, the rays of joy would follow us everywhere, another consuming trap suddenly appears that will exhaust us with the longest separation!
This heavy spiritual state hindered me from speaking freely, to tell her not to be disheartened, that we would be stronger during this temporary separation, let it pass patiently with as few internal torments as possible, but the words seemed to get stuck in my throat like fish bones, and it seemed too difficult to start the conversation, perhaps because I had chosen the most inappropriate moment, as I needed to clear my thoughts, to persuade them to submit to reason, so they wouldn’t come out carelessly, as often happens in lovers’ meetings./Memorie.al
To be continued in the next issue
