‘What do you mean? It’s tradition. There are such things as rules. Why did you do it, Hana?’
They observe each other. Lila waits for an answer, which Hana doesn’t provide.
‘You were shaping up to be a great young woman, you could have been a schoolteacher, and now …’
‘Call me Mark,’ she says to her cousin, hugging her so as not to be overwhelmed by tears.
‘You’re crazy,’ Lila says, disoriented. ‘You’re totally crazy, Hana.’
Gjergj dies on a sunny May day in 1987. Everything is ready. The house is full of food, considering what little there is up in the mountains. The honor of the Doda family is more secure than ever. Mark receives condolences. Men and women show him equal respect. Nobody calls her Hana any longer.
The kulla is squeaky clean. Old habits die hard, and she struggles to neglect the housework. But she is trying. Men don’t do women’s work; that’s the rule of the Kanun.11
A week after the funeral, Hana weeps in front of the pile of fresh earth that is Gjergj’s grave. She is alone, so nobody will see her crying.
She cries for a long time, and then looks up at the clear blue sky, the bare cemetery, the small stretch of Rrnajë that extends beyond the graveyard. The sun is so warm and reassuring, it makes her feel as though she’s on the top of the world.
On a day like this, her mother would have started singing.
December 2001
Shtjefën gets home a little earlier than usual, and in a good mood. Lila is due back in half an hour. Jonida is doing her homework.
‘I got you a job,’ he says to Hana. ‘The interview is tomorrow. See what you can do. They’ll give you a two-week trial and then they’ll decide. You’ll be a daytime attendant at a parking lot near the subway station.’
Hana is surprised, and thanks him.
‘I know you don’t like being dependent on us,’ he adds apologetically. ‘And I didn’t do it to put pressure on you if you don’t feel up to it …’
Hana has cooked dinner, which they will eat at around seven thirty, when Lila gets back. Usually she rushes in and changes out of her work clothes, tearing them off as fast as she can. She takes a quick shower and then they have dinner.
Hana quit smoking a few weeks ago and is still coughing up phlegm. Shtjefën called her a traitor. Jonida is happy: ‘Go for it, Hana! Show Mr Fatso that he can stop poisoning himself!’ Mr Fatso smiles and readily accepts his daughter’s affectionate insults.
‘My Jonida is going to be an educated woman,’ he says with infinite pride. ‘She’s beautiful and intelligent, and women like that can get away with saying a few words too many.’
That day, before Jonida and Shtjefën get back home, Hana tried on a skirt, which, Lila had explained, was called a tube skirt. It was made of dark fabric and it was the only skirt that Hana had agreed to buy during these three months.
With the house to herself she held a kind of dress rehearsal. She studied herself in the mirror for a long time — and found herself ridiculous. She walked up and down without taking her eyes off the mirror. And she did her best to resist the temptation to throw the skirt out of the window.
Jonida is home before Shtjefën. Hana closes her eyes as she throws open the door.
‘Wow!’ her niece shrieks, as she throws her backpack into a corner of the living room. ‘Cool! Turn around, Hana!’
Hana obeys.
‘I don’t like the color,’ Jonida says. ‘Who chose it?’
‘Apart from the color?’
‘I said you look ok. It looks better from the front than from the back.’
Jonida rushes to the fridge to grab a low-fat yogurt.
‘What is that stuff? Why don’t you eat something more nutritious?’
‘I hate cellulite.’
‘You don’t have cellulite, sweetie, but if you only eat this stuff you’ll get too thin.’
‘It’s cool to be thin and you know it. Anyway, you look cute in the skirt, but you look better in pants.’
Hana hangs her head in disappointment. Jonida finishes her yogurt and throws the teaspoon in the sink. Hana rushes to rinse it. She adores Jonida’s messiness; it keeps her busy during the day.
‘You’re weird,’ the girl says, rubbing salt in the wound. ‘You’re flat behind. You have no backside.’
‘Thanks.’
‘It’s my role isn’t it? You asked me to be straight with you.’
‘For weeks you go on at me, girly this, girly that, and then, first try, you put me down!’
‘I love you. But if you’re weird, you’re weird, and I can’t do anything about it.’
‘I’ll take it off, then.’
‘You better not!’
Hana doesn’t understand what’s going on.
‘We have to work at it, we can’t just give up. You can’t turn sexy in a day. Your face is already much better.’
‘I don’t want to be sexy, I’ve told you a thousand times,’ Hana insists nervously. ‘I just want to be normal and acceptable.’
‘You want to be more than normal, Hana. You want to look good, and don’t deny it.’
Hana sits on the sofa longing for a cigarette.
‘How was school today?’ she asks, changing the subject.
‘Fine. I think the guy I like is with another girl. A friend told me today in the cafeteria.’
‘Is this girl cute?’
‘She’s ugly as hell.’
Hana laughs with gusto.
‘You’re saying that because you’re jealous,’ she ribs.
‘Me? Jealous?’ Jonida’s hair flies around her as she shakes her head. ‘I am way better than her. Things like that don’t get to me, but she’s just plain ugly.’
Hana watches her. She has lived with Jonida for three months and, despite the intimacy they have created, she still finds things difficult. She envies her naturalness, the way Jonida is so accepting of her place in the world.
‘I have to do my homework now, I’ve got a ton of things to do,’ Jonida announces, jumping up and skipping into her bedroom.
Hana sits on the sofa lost in thought until Shtjefën gets back home, but she does decide one thing: not to take off the skirt.
‘The job won’t be too tiring,’ Shtjefën says. He looks up and notices the change in her. ‘Finally! Lila will be pleased to see you like this.’
They both smile.
‘I don’t want an easy job,’ Hana says. ‘I want a job where I get really tired and where I can learn the language.’
‘But you’re doing great, what are you worrying about? I wish I could speak English as well as you!’
Just then Lila gets home. She hangs her bag in the hall, mumbles a worn-out, drawling ‘hi,’ goes and takes a shower, and comes back into the kitchen with her hair still wet.
Casting her eyes over the kitchen stove and the table set for four, she tosses an inquisitive ‘so?’ into the air and then adds, ‘What have you made for dinner, Hana?’
Just then Lila notices and her eyes light up.
‘Stand up! Stand up now! I wish I’d been here when you were putting that skirt on, for crying out loud. You’ve been driving me crazy all this time. Stand up!’
Shtjefën goes out. Hana just stands there, her arms hanging limply by her sides.
‘You look great. Walk around a bit …’
Hana slumps back into her chair.
‘Come on, don’t start being difficult! Let me see you! This is a historic moment. Now you are a woman from every point of view.’
You make it sound easy, Hana thinks, without taking her eyes off the empty plates. She wants to eat, clean the table, and go out for her usual stroll.
‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Tomorrow Shtjefën is taking me to my first job interview.’