Our home is exquisite, especially compared to our little apartment we lived in for the last year. The boys are still sharing a bedroom, though, because we really wanted them to have a playroom. The consensus in the house is that it was a good idea. And, judging by the number of neighborhood kids who visit us, we did well! The neighborhood (or compound, if you prefer) is wonderful for children. There are few cars, tons of kids, pretty much open-door policies for playdates, a covered playground for rainy days, a pool and gym, yoga and exercise classes, and--my favorite--Raki on the Ridge every Tuesday night. Those are the weekly meet and drink fests that take place right across the street from our house in a little gazebo. The kids run crazy while the parents share snacks and drinks. It's such a nice morale booster for our little community, and the kids love that they can play until 10 or 11 PM at night!
I may have mentioned before that Raki is the national drink and is made from grapes. Almost every family has their own Raki recipe, and most of those families grow their own grapes for just that purpose. Our first Raki experience was something we'll never forget. We were staying in our temporary quarters, an apartment complex that has its own cafe. The young guy who runs the cafe had a bottle of his family's Raki, stored--conveniently enough--in a Jagermiester (sic) bottle in the cafe's cooler. My husband and I wanted to try it; so he poured us a couple of shot-sized portions. In Albania, one sips Raki rather than "shooting" it. Before sipping it, I smelled it and was overcome with the feeling that I'd smelled this stuff before. I'm usually pretty good with remembering voices and smells, but this particular smell escaped my memory. The first sip was a killer! Oh my God, how it burned going down! And the taste was so...interesting and STRONG! It was something akin to vodka, I guess; though I believe Vodka is made from potatoes. Anyway, it nearly killed me. A couple of days later, when I was changing my nail polish, I realized what that Raki smelled like: pure Acetone!
A few days after that happened and we were finally settled in our permanent home, the family and I decided to walk to this restaurant we'd heard so much about. Now, one must cross a small wasteland to get there--literally, a place where locals throw their trash that is always covered with wild, mangy dogs--to get to Prince Park. The place was heavenly for us, with only a couple of glitches. First, there was an actual playground there for kids! Our boys made a beeline right for it. There is an outside, covered seating area with white linen tablecloths and black-tie waiters. The outside eating area looks out on a forest and has a nice balcony. The prices were amazing: $4 pizzas, $8 seafood risotto, and $1 beer. The boys ordered Sprites, drank most of it, and ran to play. We watched them on the little merry-go-round for around 10 minutes, when my eldest returns holding his stomach. Uh-oh. My husband grabbed him just in time and got him to the balcony before he proceeded to vomit down the hillside. This, of course, is a mother's worst nightmare. Once he was done, we all looked around and were amazed: no one saw it! We got away with it! It was unbelievable--first, that it happened; and, second that we didn't have to leave in shame. We did feel a little bad for the couple who ended up getting the table next to where "it" happened. But, we didn't feel bad enough that we told them :).
More to come soon!
