Ali Podrimja in Tomorr

By: Zylyftar Hoxha

It was August of 1994, the third year, when Albania had changed its system and was more open than for us who were still conquering the mountains and seas to go abroad, for foreigners and Kosovar Albanians, especially for the latter, who, thirsty and longing, flooded at this time through the streets of Tirana and throughout Albania.

The first to come to Albania were, of course, the merchants, but also the Kosovar writers and scientists, who were longing for their colleagues in Tirana, most of whom they knew from a distance, from the exchange of letters or from what they had read about each other. -the other, but not for the face.

A group of Kosovar intellectuals such as: Ali Podrimja, Shkëlzen Maliqi and Agë Batusha, an economist at that time, seems to me to be in Belgium, after staying for a few days at the house of Dritëro Agolli and Xhevahir Spahiu in Tirana, they come together with Xhevo to Skrapar.

When Xhevua had told them that he would take them to his hometown, to Skrapar, and not only to the city, but also to the mountain of Tomorr, to the annual festival of the Bektashians, they were happy. It was a lucky chance, that rarely would another Kosovar in those years have been able to enter deep into Albania, in its South, but also to set foot on the holy mountain.

Late one afternoon, my home phone rings, I didn't have a cell phone then: "I'm Xhevua, we're in Skrapar, I'm talking from 500 meters away. I came with some Kosovar friends and we are at Iliazi's (Kapxhiu's) house, but Iljazi was not here, he ran away to Tomorr".

"I came", I told him.

When I went, the friends had gone out to the garden of Iliazi's house, they were sitting squarely on some blankets that Ferruzeja, Iliazi's friend, had laid out for them.

After we greeted each other, I told Xevo, since it wasn't Iliazi, to go from my house.

Ferruzeja, who heard this, jumped up and said: "It's not Iliazi, but Iliazi didn't take the house with him, he left it here!" It's not Iljazi, come in, master of the house."

"Burrnesh woman", Agë Batusha couldn't contain herself and took out the pad where she wrote something, "but Iliazi didn't take the house with him, he left it here! It's not Iljazi, come in, master of the house."

At dinner, as usual, I took the glass first and wished: "Cheers, I told you, you're welcome"! And bearing in mind Ferruze's words, I said with a smile: "Happy once again, and know that I am Iliazi"! I mean, the master of the house... We all laughed, while Aga wrote something down again on the pad.

The next day, we went to Kulmak in a car given to us by those from the committee (the new designations had not yet been made). It was the second day of the holiday, its climax. There was a queue to enter the temple, but when they saw us, they made way for us.

After a short conversation with the late Haxhi Baba Reshat Bardhi, we left the tomb. Here too, people stood in line, according to the ritual, they threw the money they had taxed.

"What is this?" Aliu (Podrimja) says curiously.

Xhevua explained the Bektashi rite, according to which money is thrown in holy places.

Then Ali took out a wad of money from his pocket and prepared to throw it.

"Come out, come out, Xhevua tells him, not all of them are needed, then we also need them for up there on the top. That there is Abaz Aliu!

In this and above, a girl from Gjerbësi, who seemed to have walked quickly, breathlessly said: "Finally I was found, I'm so tired"!

She was a primary school teacher, a fan of Ali Podrimje who knew all his creativity. And not only did he know the titles, but he also knew many rhymes by heart.

Ali's eyes filled with tears as she recited:

Weep, my dear plain, weep!
Your sun is blinded by the pipes
and the hearths split up to one,
They have killed the bird in the sky.
With my bare hands
with our perforated rows they have covered you.
Broken and closed threshold...
We are killed for everyone and no one...
Weep, my dear plain, weep!
My poplar will pierce the sky,
my weathered poplar –
the lost sky tip of a sword.

"It never occurred to me that I would hear my songs on this high and far away mountain," said a touched Ali.

Ali has come two more times to Skrapar together with Xhevahir Spahiu.