On trash and stray dogs

Since I've spent plenty of time reflecting on all the wonderful things about Albanian life, I feel liberated to comment on two things that have been hard for us to see: an overflowing amount of garbage on the streets, and a large community of scraggly, mutty, stray dogs. And these two things, as you can imagine, are often related.

From what I've gathered, people deal with trash in one of three ways. They throw it in the dumpsters conveniently located on every block, usually right next to the sidewalk. From here, the stray dogs and cats jump into the bins and drag the trash out to search for food. Thus, trash everywhere. Or, people throw their trash next to their house in a pile, and then set the pile on fire now and then to get rid of it. Thus, lots of nasty smoke. Or, third, they simply litter as they are walking or driving from place to place. Thus...oh, you get it. It's a dirty, nasty mess wherever you look.

Jeff said he thinks it would be hard to change the attitudes of an entire community, who has always lived this way. But I'm an optimist in this area. I think if you could change the minds of the children and young people -- maybe even get them involved in picking up their community -- they could eventually convince the older people to follow suit. In a sense, like my generation learned about the dangers of smoking and then nagged our parents endlessly until they quit. Maybe those of you who've seen this problem repeated all over the world, in truly every economically depressed community, think I'm a bit starry-eyed. I just hate to see this lovely town looking like a garbage dump.

And as for the dogs, let me just say that in Albania you'd be much better off as a donkey, sheep or pig than a dog. Yes, there are a few working dogs -- guard dogs or sheep dogs -- that probably get fed regularly. But they are mean, vicious creatures who snarl and bark every time you get near. And the rest of the sorry breed are scattered around the town digging through trash dumps and cowering when any humans walk by. That's because they've been struck regularly by rocks that locals throw at them. (Deep breaths, you of the dog-loving nature. I know this is shocking.)

A few days ago, we were having a lovely walk through a neighboring village, all Europe-ey looking with cobblestone streets and roses pouring over stone walls. And suddenly, we saw a man rush out of his business, pick up a handful of stones and begin pelting a tiny puppy, who was innocently rolling in the street and playing with his sibling. The dog ran away yelping, and I thought Isabel was going to attack this hearty villager with her bare fingernails. Thankfully, we stopped her in time. Not our place -- especially when our Albanian verbage consists of "good morning," "good evening," and "thank you." When we described the scene to Mark later, he said it's very hard to change these mindsets. To the Albanians, stray animals are a dirty menace.

So maybe it's best to dedicate this post to my beloved yellow lab, Tawnie, and remind her that she has a pretty good life. No chicken bones to gnaw or sardine tins to lick, but lots and lots of love.