From Sokrat Shyti
Part forty-nine
Memorie.al/ The writer Sokrat Shyti is the “great unknown” who, for several years, has only shown the tip of the iceberg of his literary creation. I say this based on the limited number of his published books in recent years, mainly the voluminous novel “The Phantom Night” (Tirana 2014). The novels: “BEYOND THE MYSTERY,” “BETWEEN TEMPTATION AND WHIRLPOOL,” “THE DIGGING OF NIGHTMARES,” “THE SHADOW OF SHAME AND DEATH,” “COLONEL HEADSTRONG,” “DROWNING HOPES,” “THE TURBULENCES OF FATE” I, II, “SURVIVAL IN THE COWSHED,” and other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, are in manuscript form awaiting publication. The dreams and initial zeal of the young novelist returning from studies abroad, full of energy and love for art and literature, were quickly cut short by the brutal 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-diffusion” (which at that time was located on Kavaja Street), in an editorial staff with his journalist friends – Vangjel Lezho and Fadil Kokomani – both of whom were later arrested and then executed by the communist regime. In addition to the radio, 21-year-old Sokrati, if we imagine him, had passionate literary interests at that time. He wrote his first novel “Madam Doctor” and was on the verge of publishing it, but… alas! Right after the arrest of his friends, as if to fill the cup, a brother of his, a painter, escapes abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he was interned along with his family (mother and younger sister) in a place between Ardenica and Kolonje of Lushnja. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a goat shed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout the 27 years, he was legally obligated to report three times a day to the local authority. He had no right to move from the place of internment, was deprived of any type of documentation, etc. In these conditions, amidst a goat shed, he gave birth to and raised his children. Precisely from these events, or more accurately from a very long history of persecution, he drew inspiration to write the book “Survival in the Cow Shed”!
Agron Tufa
Continued from the previous issue
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW SHED”
The days and nights after the engagement flew by so quickly that it seemed to us as if they had merged into one, and time instead of stretching had been halved! Often, we spent the nights conversing: we enjoyed experiencing the idea that we were married, the only possibility to dispel our sadness about the expected reality, which, by the force of the illegal state, compelled us to be separated from each other for two years! This troubling and bitter imagination prevented us from projecting the future; it didn’t allow us to give thoughts on how to build it, as almost all the time it was stolen from us by military conscription.
My fiancée was shaken and almost horrified when she imagined me dressed in a soldier’s uniform, among eighteen-year-old boys, eight years younger than I, with a significant difference in education and culture, with no meeting point in worldview! But what troubled her the most was the thought of how I would spend my days working the hard soil with a plow and shovel, how difficult it would be for me to meet the quota and endure the humiliating insults from the ignorant officers, who would surely have been instructed and ordered to follow every move of the former radio journalist, to mock and ridicule me as I struggled and wore myself out.
There was no doubt that to hurt my pride, they would call me from time to time to appear before them in uniform to give me necessary advice that as an educated person fallen from grace, I should find strength within myself to not be at the end of the line, like a failure in her eyes (rightfully so), primarily because the former radio journalist would always be in the crosshairs of the commissioner. As the main party leader in the unit, he would always keep me suppressed in the mechanism of class struggle, alongside the constant oversight of the Security chief and the commanders of the platoon and company.
But more than anything else, she feared the emergence of traps through nervousness and insults, considering that as a soldier of backward age, my pride was touched more quickly, losing patience under the pressure of a hot temper, and might respond ambiguously, which would be interpreted by them as dissatisfaction with military service, taken as a reason to punish me!
But these thoughts she kept swirling in her mind; she didn’t voice them aloud, fearing that I might misunderstand and fall into deep despair when our free time was scarce, and we hated to waste it, to spend it on irritating assumptions that brought us only annoyance and sadness. Therefore, I begged her to remove this torment from her imagination, to leave it for later, when I would be in the military unit. Even then, she should paint the reality there as softer than now, to give herself courage and hope, believing that among the officers with their natural savagery, there would be at least one like-minded lover of literature with whom she could exchange thoughts, and this person would prove willing to provide support.
What troubled me more than anything else was an extremely irritating internal annoyance, to not have my hair shaved to zero, according to military regulations, to leave it until the day of departure, or to allow me to appear before the medical-legal commission with shortened hair, supported by the explanation of my engagement. To prevent this haircut, I expressed my concern to the secretary of the Military Department, Engjëlli, with whom I exchanged greetings each time we met, convinced that he would communicate my words to the chief, and until now had shown a willingness to provide help within his means. He listened attentively to my request and had no objections.
It seemed reasonable and possible. Therefore, he promised that he would discuss it immediately with the chief, hoping that he would not turn back his word in this case, as the chief has a gentle nature and judges these cases with the maturity and compassion of a parent. Immediately after this conversation, we went to the barber to determine how much to cut my hair, so I wouldn’t look like a recruit. Once this stressful situation was overcome, I was gripped by terrifying waves of shame, wondering how I would stand before the medical-legal commission completely naked, according to military regulations?!
(I could hardly breathe, as if the ceiling had collapsed over my head, at the moment when a woman dressed in a white apron approached me and touched my genitals! Then she gave me a mocking smile and whispered right next to my ear so that others wouldn’t hear: “You’re worried for nothing! This is my profession: I examine and touch the genitals of men. And not just young recruit boys. Many men over thirty come to me for a check-up; those who have problems!”)
After this explanation, which she deemed necessary, she addressed the chairman of the commission loudly: – “Completely fit.” However, the shock of that moment did not leave me; it caused me uncomfortable turmoil. I could hardly catch my breath when I went to the almost dark corner to get dressed! Because I still didn’t believe that I had freed myself from the grip of the nightmare that tormented me, whenever I thought about it, even though I didn’t know that an unknown woman would touch my genitals in her capacity as a doctor, as a member of the commission!
Later, I discovered from two of my friends that this doctor, who had come from Tirana, had specialized specifically in this profession as an andrologist, capable of accurately determining male capability or incapacity through touch. Therefore, her statement that “many men over thirty come to me for a check-up” seemed very strange to me! At that moment, I was plagued by a question: had this woman willingly chosen to specialize in this field, touching men’s genitals every day for several hours, or was she subjected to this specialization because she had no other choice?!
But soon, facing this question, the well-known fact emerged of the male gynecologist who examines, touches, and puts his hand inside a woman’s vagina. This comparison was enough to deepen my reasoning: why does the behavior and action of the gynecologist seem not only normal but also necessary? Why are women not bothered at all when they spread their legs during childbirth or when they have various ailments? Meanwhile, why should the uncovering of male genitalia before a specialist doctor spark feelings of shame in us?!
This significant difference in modesty between women and men arises from the lack of experience or as a result of the preconceived worldview of people on this planet, that males should have far fewer problems with their genital organs, which is why there is hardly any need for medical check-ups, except in extreme cases when these do not function normally, and for this, the main complaints are made by their wives, as they feel the direct consequences of this disorder?
When my fiancée saw me with my hair cut short, she thought that I had gone to the barber on my own, as it had recently become a trend among young boys. She was quite surprised when I told her that this was a forced and privileged haircut.
– “How should this contradiction be understood: both forced and privileged?” – she asked with the same look.
– “It was the approval of the Military Department, following my request,” – I explained.
– “They seem to have been reasonable, leaving you with short hair! – she said, pleased. – I know it suits you.”
– “That’s why I called it a privileged haircut…” – I smiled.
– “But did you appear before the medical-legal commission? – she inquired. – Because this action also represented a significant concern for you.”
– “I got rid of that annoying discomfort too!” – I replied, sighing, without telling her what I experienced during those minutes with the specialist doctor from Tirana.
– “Did it feel heavy when you undressed completely naked before the commission?” – she asked.
– “It felt as if the plaster and ceiling had collapsed on me!”
– “It’s strange with you men: in some cases, you are more ashamed than women!” – she said.
– “This strange difference may come because the female body has a more pleasant natural harmony than ours, men. Besides, when faced with even the slightest teasing, we expose ourselves much faster and are noticeably more conspicuous…” – I replied.
– “Your observation stands,” – she said. – “That’s why you men feel pleasure when you see beautiful female bodies on the beach, in swimsuits. And very rarely does the opposite happen.”
– “Nature is constantly generous and kind to you, giving you beauty and freshness because you have the extraordinary merit of bearing children!”
– “A correct response!” – she smiled. – “When is the departure from here?” – she asked, quite concerned.
– “On April 1st, April Fool’s Day,” – I replied. “We were instructed to wear our old clothes because when you arrive at the military unit and put on the soldier’s uniform, these will be burned.”
– “Come dressed as you usually do when we go out for a walk. As for the old clothes, pack them with you. Of course, you will spend the night of March 31st in my house, as I will see you off the next day. You will change your outfit at the club, near the Military Department, so we can make use of every last minute before departure…” – she said with teary eyes.
– “Until now, from the way you spoke, you seemed reserved, in contrast to your outwardly sad appearance…” – I pointed out.
– “Well, they don’t call it two months, but a full two years of separation, and precisely at a time when we feel the need to be close to each other the most!” – she emphasized through sighs. “I pray to God for your health, and during these two years, may not bitter surprises occur!”
– “Why do you think negatively?” – I wanted to encourage her. “After what we’ve endured, how could we not think?!” – she said with a deep sigh. “It is known that you have faced piercing and occasional teasing from different directions, right up until the moment when the favorable turn appeared. But I too was not without it, as soon as they heard that we were getting engaged. Initially, there were direct threats: You will be removed from the Youth Bureau of the district!
You will be dismissed as a teacher! Then they used another tactic: Don’t you feel sorry to dismiss the promising project that many girls dream of, the position of secretary of the Party Committee?!… Most recently, they advised me not to accept a transfer to teach in the school in Kolonje.”
– “You will face teasing the entire time I am doing military service. Our detractors will continue to weave intrigues and slanders. Moreover, anonymous letters aiming to create rifts and cracks between us cannot be ruled out…”
– “They will never achieve that!” – she said resolutely. “No matter how much they slander us and attack us, they cannot defeat our future family!”
– “Now let’s make an agreement: let’s leave all the concerns we’ve faced behind us, and let’s not repeat any during these days! Let’s only talk about the future, seeing it in rainbow colors!”
– “Completely agreed!” – she said with a smile.
– “First, I want to hear your impressions of my grandmother from Berat…” – I said to change the subject of the conversation.
– “She was wonderful in every way!”
– “And how beautifully your mother and grandmother complemented each other, completing each other’s thoughts!” – she expressed her satisfaction.
– “Now you will surely be amazed when you hear the surprising news that my grandmother is not my mother’s real mother, but her stepmother?!” – I surprised her.
– “Really?!” – she exclaimed.
– “And I was astonished at first when I learned from my uncle in Berat: an extraordinary coincidence! That’s why I feel happy when I see and hear them talking to each other: a perfect harmony! My step-grandmother raised and married the two orphans, a sister and a brother. Because their mother, my true grandmother, left them very small, three and one years old. But she was a wonderful woman, with high virtues. Luckily, these qualities she left as a legacy to the two orphans! When the opportunity arises for you to meet my uncle, you will see for yourself what a treasure of spirit he has, and you will acknowledge that there is no one like him! Especially when you compare him to your uncles…”
– “You know that my mom and aunt Poja are sisters only from the father, my grandfather, Jan Sinjari?” – she asked, looking curious.
– “I remember Uncle Jan: when I was a child, he often came to my father’s shop. They had something in common: both dressed similarly and got along well!” – I pointed out.
– “My true grandmother gave birth to four children: one girl, my mother, and three boys, my uncles. Meanwhile, the step-grandmother gave birth to two: aunt Poja and uncle Sifi in Berat.”
– “How is your relationship with your uncles here?” – I asked.
– “Good, but not perfect or fantastic, like yours with your uncle,” – she said. “As for my mother and aunt Poja, they get along like loving sisters: aunt Poja listens to and respects her older sister; for everything, she seeks Ulë’s opinions and advice.”
– “Maybe, if we get the chance, (I had in mind the short time until my military departure), it would be good for us to go back and forth in a day to Berat, just to meet my uncle!” – I expressed my desire, although I knew that this initiative was unlikely to materialize.
After this conversation, (where we clarified the details regarding the military department: the haircut, the appearance at the commission, when the departure would take place, and also filled in some knowledge about our close ones, along with additional comments about the teasing), I accompanied my fiancée home and told her that in these two or three days, I would be in Kolonje to arrange some important matters, primarily to set up my sister in work at the sewing cooperative.
I said goodbye to my mother-in-law, telling her that I couldn’t stay for lunch, and headed towards the bus station. Fortunately, there I met the sergeant, the Authority, a family acquaintance, whom I informed that I would soon be going to the military and presented him with my request for my sister’s employment at the sewing cooperative.
– “I heard your second request, and I think we can arrange it. But your military service seems strange to me because you are legally interned!”… he replied, looking surprised.
– “I don’t understand it either!”… I added.
– “You haven’t gone anywhere to ask; did some refined scoundrel create this confusion? – he inquired. – Or are those who fabricated this mess stronger and unshakeable from their positions?”…
“They don’t say for nothing: when the judge catches you, you have nowhere to file your case!” – “Here is the answer to your question…” – I added, sighing.
– “I have no great education. But the work of a policeman has taught me many things, especially how to protect yourself from traps behind your back. I don’t remember who told me that you got engaged?” – he asked with a humorous and curious look. – “If it’s true, I would consider it a good opportunity, especially now that you are going to join the military. Because if your fiancée is a nice girl, from a good family, while you are serving, she will come to see her mother-in-law, to alleviate her loneliness.”
– “You surely know her father, as he works as a warehouseman in handicrafts,” – I clarified.
– “In our circle, there is no man as wise as Uncle Zoi!” – said Sergeant Petro. – “If she takes after her father, your fiancée will be a lovely, sweet, and obedient girl. I’m pleased that you are engaged to a girl from a respected family! It’s delightful when two well-known families make an alliance, and they are approximately at the same level!” – he added, satisfied. – “My grandmother will be so pleased when I tell her! I was afraid that some beautiful hijacker might slip into your life, considering you only walked the alleys with a fuel can in hand…” – he said. – “But thank goodness you escaped that danger! – Did your brother, Lili, come from Tirana for your engagement?” – he asked with interest.
– “He came with his wife and one of the girls,” – I replied.
– “See how many good things your engagement brought?… – he added with a smile: – Besides everything else, it melted the ice between you and Lili’s family in Tirana. But he had no blame. If you were in his place, you would have acted the same way.” /Memorie.al
Continued in the next issue
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