She appears matronly, in a man’s jacket, a thick plaid skirt and flat shoes. We are a little wary of each other at first. Gjyzepina begins by running through the morning newspapers. In one paper a cartoon has Albania separated from its borders with Greece, Macedonia and Montenegro, merrily sailing for Europe while a chain anchored to a sickle stretches to breaking point. Gjyzepina laughs—revealing just two yellowing teeth in her mouth. She suddenly remembers this, and up comes her hand and an unguarded moment sadly trails off to embarrassment. We wander off to the piazza. Gjyzepina talks about Nick. Of course she remembers him. Nick was one of her best students. It is National Liberation Day, but unlike yesterday’s National Independence Day, there is hardly a soul about. Cliff had sketched a quick map of the piazza and its surrounding attractions for me. The Atheists Museum should be the two-storey building opposite. But according to Gjyzepina, the museum has been abandoned. The icons have been returned to the churches.
