by Ndue Dedaj
(Instead of a “speleological” report)
Abstract
In this opinion piece, writer Ndue Dedaj contrasts the rich mythological and prehistoric cave heritage of Albania — exemplified by the Cave of the Cyclops in Himarë (south, coastal) and the Cave of the Oras in Gojan (north, mountainous) — with the neglect it suffers from state institutions. He sharply criticizes the Ministry of Culture for prioritizing expensive concerts and mega-projects while leaving important archaeological and natural sites abandoned and locked.
The author highlights local protests, foreign tourists’ bewilderment, successful private/foreign initiatives (especially Austrian Marianne Graf’s extensive revitalization work in northern Albania), and the living connection between caves, mythology (Oras and Zanas), traditional crafts (Gojan pottery), and wildlife (lynx, bears). He calls for greater national responsibility, proper signage and development of caves, and the adoption of European standards in cultural heritage management ahead of EU integration. The piece blends travel observation, cultural reflection, and pointed institutional critique.
Albania possesses a rich variety and typological grandeur of mythological, archaeological, and historical sites and monuments.
Yet we cannot say that the Ministry of Culture rises to the level of this heritage. It spends millions of euros on a concert by an American artist in Tirana — preferably by erecting a special 20-storey “stadium” in Kashar — while archaeological sites are overgrown with thorns, Scanderbeg-era castles and numerous stone monuments are neglected, including important ancient settlements like Zgërdhesh in Fushë-Krujë. Only the Lion Gate in Butrint has been saved, though even that ancient temple has not escaped “ministerially blessed” concretization.
We are fortunate that the caves of ancient Albania still survive — from the Cave of the Cyclops in Himarë to the “Cave of the Oras” in Gojan. One in the south, one in the north; one by the Ionian Sea right beside the national road, the other on a high ridge of the Great Fand, at the foot of the mountains, where even a drone has difficulty reaching. And these are only two of the many mythological caves in our country, among dozens or hundreds of similar prehistoric caves across Albanian territory. The only one that is properly lit and developed is perhaps the Cave of Gadima in Kosovo.
Last Sunday afternoon we passed through Himarë on our way back from Borsh. As usual, the “Cave of the Cyclops” was locked with a “Tutius” padlock, like a prison cell with iron bars under the open sky. Local residents have protested, well-known historians, monument and environmental experts, and coastal tourism specialists have made strong arguments, investigative TV programs from Tirana have visited, and the newspaper Panorama has written about it. None of this has convinced the Ministry of Culture to do its duty toward this rare asset of cultural heritage. Now only foreign tourists are left to protest, asking how we can treat our own treasures — even those of universal value, linked to the Homeric era — in this way. The Pirate Cave in Dhërmi was “saved” by the great writer Petro Marko, who immortalized it in a novel. We do not have another patriarch of the Coast like him to save its sister cave in Himarë. It seems nothing in this country is protected unless residents protest loudly, as if the government is not there to fulfill their will.
The “Cave of the Oras” in Gojan also awaits at least proper signage so that off-road visitors — who have an extraordinary passion for caves — can find it, explore it, and “read” our ancient history in its rock pages filled with stalactites and stalagmites. They could then describe and promote it in guides, linking it with other local attractions such as the watermills, traditional Mirdita dishes, etc. The Oras and Zanas (mythical female spirits) have descended from the Alps to these semi-Alpine places. On the other side of the Fan River we find the “Ora of Mirdita” that spends the summer refreshing herself by springs, streams, and mountain meadows, entering even Fishta’s poetry:
“Falmeshndet Ora e Mirditës / Falmeshndet un u kam çue / Qê npër gurra të Mundellës / Më shkon vera tue u freskue…”
Mythology intertwines here with the ancient tradition of pottery-making, specifically the earthenware vessels of Gojan (large pots and bowls for traditional cooking), produced from a special type of clay found on a mountainside on the far bank of the Fan River. This tradition has been revived by today’s residents. We had the pleasure of visiting their artisanal workshop, set up in a home — as far as we know, the only one of its kind in Albania. Their products are highly sought after both domestically and abroad.
While the Oras and Zanas are no longer “seen” anywhere, the opposite is true for wild animals. A bear with her cubs has been captured on cameras that continuously monitor another special resident of Munella: the last Balkan lynx, which survives in this habitat in very small numbers — countable on the fingers of one hand. There is a dedicated association protecting the lynx as an endemic species, but we are not aware of any inventory by the Ministry of Agriculture, which also manages forests for wild animals, let alone any zoological parks or (non-hunting) reserves. Once humans inhabited the caves; now wild animals and birds do, so much so that some caves bear their names, like “Shpella e Stërçokëve” (Eagle-Owl Cave) in Orosh.
It is not about blaming everything on the Ministry. Local institutions also have responsibilities; people are paid to protect mountain wildlife, though many feel it as a burden rather than a duty. Someone who grew up with a slingshot in hand killing birds as a child finds it hard to become their protector and a defender of nature!…
At first glance, those of us without a tradition of aesthetically and functionally reviving caves think they have always been and will remain empty, outside human attention and intervention. We remember that half a century ago, as high-school students, we visited the “Cave of Doçi” in Selitë, one of the largest and best-known in that area, in the village of Mërkuth near Krejë-Lura. Nothing has happened to it since then, except once during the Cold War when the army wanted to turn it into a defensive tunnel. The same applies to other karst caves in the region explored by foreign researchers, especially after the 1990s.
Fortunately, the guardians of our nature do not let us forget. The distinguished Austrian Marianne Graf, in cooperation with “Infokulla” of Rubik, discovered a few years ago the “Cave of the Earth,” also known as the “Cave of the Lufaj,” in the most difficult terrain of the area, in Trangë on the dramatically broken cliffs of the Uraka Canyon. She set to work making it visitable with paths, stairs, signage, lighting, and even a sculpture of a dragon said to have once “owned” the cave in mythological times.
We look for our Ministry of Culture in the field and find it in the person of this foreign lady, who for thirty-some years has been building authentic Albanian beauty in Mirdita, Shkodër, Pukë, Mat, Divjakë, Kosovo, and elsewhere through revitalization projects. Her story of returning identity to the highlanders is extraordinary: restoration of towers in remote mountain villages, construction of guesthouses, water wells, roads, bridges, small churches, livestock pens, marketing of hiking trails, and even a “lovers’ station” on the road to Vela — all this alongside schools, health and cultural centers. She works in the “solitude” of the northeastern ridges, never visited by government officials, but with the continuous support of the mayors of Mirdita.
Shouldn’t we start doing these things ourselves and to high standards? Integration into the European Union presupposes exactly this: putting into practice the Western experience in managing cultural heritage. It is unforgivable that foreigners do more for our heritage than we do ourselves.
It was a pleasure these days to visit the Sopot Castle in Borsh via a new asphalt road and see the castle being restored. The new road has also brought such a flood of foreign tourists to “Qeparo village” that it was hard to find parking. One would strongly wish that such a thousand-year-old village — like an open-air museum town on its castle hill — would be treated as a complex cultural monument, with comprehensive restoration of houses, cobblestone alleys, churches, etc. But if that is not easy due to funding needs, the “Cave of the Cyclops” in Himarë requires nothing more than the goodwill of the Ministry of Culture and local authorities.
Caves are expressions of an ancient civilization. From the monumental Cave of Pëllumbas (also known as the Black Cave) emerged Tirana itself, our capital. That is why it always has visitors…
NDUE DEDAJ
