In the publication “the “The Literary Word”, Volume 22, 1880″ we can find an interesting travelogue describing the Albanians in the north and their hospitality and similarity to the Native Americans.
Cited:
“The Natives of Albania
The natives, though of one race, may be divided into three classes, differing very much in manners and character, First, we have the Albanian Mohammedan. This is the “wild Albanian kirtled to the knee”-in North Albania, found chiefly in the towns. He is the aristocrat, maybe an owner of lands in the mountains, which he lets out to Arnaut tenants, living on his rents. He is in-tensely proud of his caste, a despiser of his Chris-tian fellow-townsmen. Courteous, gentlemanly, not over strict in the observance of his creed, he will drink raki on the quiet with an easy con science.
His walk is a haughty stalk. With his gold em. broidered vest, bright sash-his leather pouch in front, in which are stuck two gold-hilted jewelled pistols and yatagian, his many-folded snowy festi-nelle, or kilt, which swings from side to side as he struts along he is indeed an imposing-looking figure.
Secondly, we have the Christian town’s-man of the Latin Church-how different in every respect! He wears the fez, Turkish jacket, baggy trousers tied in at the knee, followed by white socks, and European elastic-side boots.
As a Christian the law forbids him to carry arms. There is the timid, fawning, insincere look in his face, so characteristic of the oppressed. These Christians are all traders or merchants, many of them wealthy, but not daring to be over ostentatious, for they live in fear and dread of their unscrupulous neighbours of the other creed, who have on more than one occasion pillaged the Christian quarter. Their position is much what that of the Jews was in medieval Europe.
The dress of the Christian town’s-women is not becoming, though exceedingly expensive. Their robe is heavy and thick with gold embroidery, which crackles loudly as they walk. Out of doors they are enveloped in a very ugly red cloak; it is baggy and shapeless. Take an egg, paint it red, cut a good slice off one end and stand it up you will form a very good idea of a Scutarine Christian lady in out-door costume. As they are veiled, like the Moham-medans, it is equally impossible to judge of the beauty of either face or figure.
Next we have the third class of the population, the most interesting of all, the country people-or rather, mountaineers, for little but mountain is there in North Albania. These are the Arnauts-Skipitars, as they call themselves a fierce, hardy race of almost savages, independent, unconquered by the Turks.
They too are Latin Christians, but how different from their co-religionists in the town! Their features are indicative of minds that would not tolerate slavery. They stalk proudly through the streets of the towns, bristling with arms, notwith- standing the laws which forbid the Christian to do so, These warlike tribes are too strong to heed the regulations of the feeble government.
Their dress is simple, but very manly and workmanlike. They are clad in white homespun from head to heel. Their head-dress is a white skull cap; sometimes they twist a long scarf round the head and under the chin, very much in the style of the Bedouin-this is the “shawl-girt head” that Byron that Byron speaks of; a white jacket, with tight sleeves reaching to the wrist of thick woollen stuff, ornamented with black braid here and there; trousers of the same material, and similarly black braided, baggy behind, but thence close fitting to the leg until they reach the ankle, where they are slit and open out-exactly the cut in- deed of the nether garments of the American Indian, except that the lower end is of thicker material, and has the appearance of a gaiter, though it is of one piece with the rest of the garment; opunkas on the feet; a sash round the waist, of common red stuff or of silk, according to the wealth of the man; round the waist a belt, with leather pouch in front, in which the long beautifully worked pistols and yat-aghan are stuck; a belt of Martini-Henry car-tridges over the sash, if he own one of these rifles -if not a belt from which depend quaint elegantly carved cartridge and oil-rag boxes, of gold or brass, and long tassles of black silk.
Such is the appearance of an Arnaut mountaineer -a grand costume, showing off the supple erect frame-the very dress for a savage warrior. The Arnaut, like the Mussulman, shaves his head, leaving a little bunch of hair on the scalp. This gives him a very Indian-like and ferocious appearance. No one who has not seen it can form an idea how this shaving increases the savageness of the expression.
The dress of the women is as hideous as that of the men is handsome. It is not unlike that of the Mon-tenegrins. Their heads are swathed in richly-hued shawls. Their dress is of very thick coarse material, and shapeless. They are fond of wearing leather bands round the waist, ornamented with pins, which are thrust through the leather, with their ends bent up, their heads thus forming elegant patterns on the outside.
Round the neck and on the dress, the Arnaut belle wears strings of piastres, swanzickers, and other small coins. Her legs are swathed thickly with a sort of gaiter, which completely prevents one from forming any idea as to the shapeliness of her lower limbs.
Most of the mountaineers still wear over their shoulders the curious little black cloak, not unlike the tippet which English ladies have recent copied from their coachmen, which was adopted in mourning for the death of the great Albanian hero Scanderberg, whose exploits are still sung over the wintry fire by many a mountain bard, to the mel-ancholy accompaniment of the mandolin. There is not an Albanian who is not acquainted with his his. tory.
The Albanians are not without some redeeming qualities. Though not averse on great occasions to pass freely round the raki, a spirit made from the skins of grape, “drunkenness is considered to be a beastly and degraded vice.” Notwith-standing their reckless regard of life, and their cruelty to their foes, they are very faithful in their friendships, truthful and virtuous in their conduct, and exceed-ingly hospitable. Our author was kindingly hospitable. Our author was kindly treated on more occasions than one in their homes, and he has given us the fol-lowing graphic picture of
Albanian Hospitality
I must describe this evening’s feast in full, so characteristic was it. The fire, as I before said, was lit in the middle of the mud floor, the smoke esc.ping as it could. Huge logs-1 ought rather to say trees -were now piled on. A tremendous blaze was made up.
When we entered, the fire was low, a loaf of maize cooking in the embers. The method of making these loaves is simple.
When the fire has burnt long, and the floor beneath is thoroughly hot, the ashes are scraped away in the centre, the loaf is placed on the bare mud, and an iron cover which fits closely to it, placed above it. Then the hot ashes are once more r. ked back till they entirely bury the loaf and its cover; and the baking commences.
Our host went out and killed the fatted sheep, and proceeded to prepare it for roasting whole. A slit was made down the belly, the entrails were taken out, the feet were tucked into the slit, which was then carefully sewed up, and a wooden spit was run right through the carcase from head to tail.
It was brought in and placed over the fire. The spit worked on two rough logs, one of the women turning it with her hand. We commenced our dinner by coffee drinking. There is certainly but one way of making coffee – that in vogue in these regions. Let my readers attend to this receipt, and try it.
On the fire is a pot of boiling water. A small saucepan, with a long handle, just big enough to hold a coffee cup of water is taken (N.B. a small Turkish coffee cup). Into it is thrown a tea spoonful of coffee, freshly ground and freshly roasted, also a lump of sugar.
Boiling water is poured on it till the saucepan is full. Then the saucepan is put on the fire. It boils over, is taken off for ten seconds. Three times this operation is repeated, then the thick fluid is poured into the cup; and delicious it will be found to be, if you once get over your prejudice against grounds.
We and all the other men squatted on our rugs round the blazing fire and roasting sheep, and commenced our dinner, the women, according to Eastern fashion, standing or sitting in the corners of the room, watching us, and waiting till we had done, when they would come in for their share of the feast.
The old crone was a favoured person; a bone was occasionally thrown to her by the host while we dined, which she seized in her skeletoa hands, and sucked greedily with her toothless chaps. There was a knowing old dog by her who knew, and took a mean advantage of, her blindness and weakness, for he managed occasionally to steal a succulent morsel out of her very hands.
While the sheep was roasting we were obliged to eat little delicacies, intended, I suppose, to tickle our appetites. Our host would take “patoulis” from the ashes of the fire la sort of rancid, heavy dripping cake), smear them thickly with honey, then on the top of all scatter large lumps of goat’s-milk cheese, and hand them to us in a pressing way that permitted no refusal.
We were forced to eat so many of these that the roasting sheep, of which we knew we would have to partake freely, turned before our eyes like a horrid nightmare. Meanwhile Nik Leka looked on benignantly as he put away the cakes in a way that surprised us.
We washed down all this with a very greasy sort of mead. Though of a fairly omnibibant nature, we could hardly sto nach this. At last we came to the “misch i pickan,” as the roasted sheep is called. Our host cut is up with his yataghan, then proceeded to tear the flesh with his fingers, We were well looked after, and treated as honoured guests.
The Arnaut would puil off some rich lump of fat, enelos-ing a kidney, and hand it to one of us. The meat was really very good; all its richness is kept in by this way of cooking, but probably a delicate-stormached person might not relish the idea of devouring lumps of tepid mutton fat with his fingers, without bread or salt.
I think I did very creditably at this meal. I know Jones, who finally collapsed and could do no more. looked at me with amazement. Fat and lean and crackling followed each other. Our host and Nik Leka did not leave me alone for a moment. Now and then one of them would tear off a large shred of meat, and stuff it into our saddle-bag for the next day’s provision.
At last we were as replete as Homer’s heroes. In-deed the whole scene carried one back to those days. The besiegers of Tory lit the fire of logs, and roasted the beasts whole, and ate till they could not stand or talk, just as did these no less savage Arnauts.
Just like these too, when the banquet was over, did they show their gratitude to their host, and appreciation of his ho pitality, by frequent hiccups and belchings, The women and dogs gobbled up the remains in their corner, as we smoked our cigarettes and toasted ourselves in old raki.
But it is not to be imagined that Mr. Knight found it all plain sailing. He and his companion had their adventures and their perils, notably one which is especially worthy of notice. The army of the Albanian League, under Ali Bey, was then in Gussinje, and the two Englishmen adopted, rather rashly, a suggestion of a chief of the League to go there and see the fighting.
After some delay, they started, under the escort of a boulimbashi, and arrived safely at Selz, the chief hamlet of the Klementi tribe. Here they met with a most flattering and hospitable reception by some Franciscan monks, with whom our author conversed in dog Latin, eked out by an occasional Italian word. The monks exerted themselves to the utmost to dissuade the adventurers from carrying out their project, but in vain. They were determined to see Ali Bey, and accordingly set out for Gropa, a hut from whence they were to proceed to Gussinje (Gucia)”.
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