The afternoon of the crazy Kruja story, Agata decided that she really hadn't seen all the monuments, mosques, blades of grass and piles of dirt that is Tirana, so off we set in search of the huggy Mother Theresa statue which is allegedly in front of the University. This involved a rather long schlep in the heat of the afternoon, but eventually we found it. Dutifully, we took our pictures, some serious, but mostly stupid ones of us taking turns to hug Mother Theresa (I mean seriously, this statue has the woman with arms outstretched as if she either about to hug you or brain you with her left hook). I don't know why there's a load of statues of Mother Theresa in Albania, as technically she was born in Skopje, Macedonia - but she was born of Albanian parentage so that might be the reason - maybe its a Russell Crowe thing. You know, the Kiwis claim he's theirs, we Aussies say he's ours (until he makes a right fool of himself, and then he really is a Kiwi)... anyway.
So after this we begin the long, hard schlep back to the centre of town, quite happily walking along, minding our own business, chatting about the adventures of the day, walking 3 abreast, when suddenly Agnieszka full on drops to the ground and starts screaming. As I've mentioned before, the roads and pavements in Tirana (and to be fair, all of Albania) are pretty much well a construction site. Agnieszka has stepped on a loose manhole cover which has then flung up with the momentum and come crashing back down on her ankle, trapping her. Agata manages to release her and a crowd of onlookers starts to form. Suddenly a lovely Albanian couple (who fortunately speak perfect English) pull their car over and offer us a lift to the hospital. So we get in the car and off we go. They take us to the military hospital, which is the one dealing with bones, as we're not sure if its broken or sprained.
We arrive at the hospital and there is absolutely no waiting, we're just taken straight in to the radiographer's room. Agnieszka's ankle is x-rayed immediately and fortunately, there's no breaks. Next thing I know we're in another room with a different doctor and he gives her some advice on how to treat the swelling etc, and that's it. The whole visit was extremely quick. During this time, the woman who had stopped asked us if we had enough cash to pay for the visit, and then offered to help if not. Next thing I see her pass a wad of cash to her husband (don't get too excited, Albanian lekes come in large numbers but are pretty worthless, 200 lekes equal a pound), who then 'takes care' of the doctor. They wouldn't let us pay anything back to them either. Agnieszka and Agata reckon the bribed the doctor so he would see us 'under the carpet' as it were.
They then drove us back to the hotel after the hospital visit, now an hour or so after they stopped to help us. They still wouldn't accept any money, wouldn't let us take them out to dinner or repay them in any way, just were happy with our many thanks and appreciation.
How's that for being a good Samaritan, eh?
2 comments:
'A Funny Thing Happened Along The Way'... you should tell Agnieszka about Cadet Paulette, who, while playing the sousaphone in full march with the Salvo band, completely disappeared down a man hole, with just the bell of her sousaphone saving her from the murky depths...
Gee, if only that attitude prevailed all throughout the world- we'd be all better off .....and George Bush's effort on terrorisism, seriously stalled and looking for another outlet.
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