Magic in Antigonea ~ CookingFood.Org

Wow! What a memorable day.

The orchestra awoke in stages on Tuesday, in some correlation with the time earlier that morning people had turned in after the post-concert celebrations. The hotel presented a great continental breakfast in the restaurant which offered stunning views of Gjirokaster and surrounding mountains. Some of us walked down (and up and down and up and up) Gjorikaster’s narrow, stony, hilly streets to have a quick look at the ethnographic museum (located in the house in which Enver Hoxha grew up). Others took got a closer, daylight look at the castle—fascinating. Like many castles in the British Isles, there is not an excessive focus on guard rails or rudimentary concepts of tort liability. We took a peek inside the prison cells (we think that’s the rooms were) and were convinced that this would definitely not have been “Club Fed”.

At 11h00 we clambered aboard the bus and struck off for Antigone, proudly sporting our West Coast Symphony banner on the front. We arrived up the hill in Antigone about 15 minutes later to waiting television cameras from Top Channel of Albania. After unloading the instruments which would be donated to found the music school, we walked through the town square and were greeted warmly by Uli, the Reeve of the village of Antigone, and 40 or 50 townsfolk, including 25 or so very wide-eyed children. At the formal donation ceremony at the museum the WCS presented the instruments. In return, Uli gave us a large and heavy book on the history of Antigone.

Then, the fun really began. With eager children gathering around the instruments, we branched out for introductory lessons on violin, flute, clarinet, trumpet and trombone. The show stealer was a little 5 year old girl who had never touched a violin but was a complete natural, demonstrating hand position and poise. The children took turns trying out the instruments, but this little girl never took her eyes off the tiny violin she had just played. At one point, she walked up to Bujar’s wife and said: “ I have a question. When do I get my *own* violin?” She has clearly been bitten by the same bug which afflicts all of us in the orchestra: born to perform.

It struck me that the experience of presenting the instruments and giving these wonderfully well behaved children lessons was really an extension of what the WCS does 14 or so times every year: we make music accessible to any who are interested. Seeing the smiles on their faces and their rapt attention to our instruction, it was hard to determine who was actually giving a gift to whom.

After the lessons, our brass sextet presented a brief concert, again bringing the audience to their feet with the Albanian folk song medley. A young girl also treated us to a very good performance of Ave Maria on the electric keyboard. Following a tasty boxed lunch and an ice cold beer or two, the orchestra was guided about 2 minutes down the road to family home in which Bujar was born. We were greeted by his whole family, two brothers, two sisters, their spouses and numerous nieces and nephews. We were given tours of the family garden and indulged in eating delectable fresh fruit right off the vine/branch (figs, pears, tomatoes), as well as a celebratory tumbler of raki. These are experiences that simply cannot be purchased.

The bus then took us through the Southern Albania mountains towards Saranda. There were numerous “oohs” and “ahs” when we pulled into the courtyard of the Hotel Bahamas, a beachfront resort featuring a swimming pool, restaurant, and private ocean beach. I don’t think 10 minutes had passed after check in before the first of us could be seen splashing in the pool, an extremely welcome respite from the rather intense sun and heat. The orchestra represents about 95% of the total guest population, so it is sort of visiting the house of a wealthy relative. Dinner was good, but I they might not have fully calculated the needs of a 35 person travelling group, as we ran them out of red wine—after one bottle. Oh well, the sunset made up for this.