When I was a background investigator, my main job
requirement was to gather information. Subject and source interviews, of
course, were key components of my investigations. Unlike records checks,
however, the people whom I interviewed did not have a standard, unchanging presentation
of information—the information that they provided would vary with a multitude
of factors: their mood that day, their goals for the interview, their sense of
comfort and rapport with the investigator. I quickly learned to evaluate my
source and change my self-presentation in order to increase the likelihood of
the source feeling comfortable and unguarded with me. For example, when I interviewed
a formerly successful businessman about his financial difficulties or a proud
man about his moral failures, my best option was to be professional and
detached, so there was no hint of judgment or pity; these men were not speaking
with a woman, only with an unfeeling government drone little different from a
computer or the forms on which they originally had disclosed their problems. Others
in similar situations telegraphed that they felt more comfortable opening up to
a sympathetic witness, so that is exactly what they got from me. When I
interviewed a young soldier about his record of misbehavior while under the
influence of alcohol, I smiled and laughed at his antics along with him, all
the while discreetly taking copious notes and encouraging him to tell me more.
When I left these interviews, I reverted to neutral—to myself, unchanged from
my brief metamorphosis into whomever I needed to be for that interview.
One of my investigations involved a young man, a first
generation American; his parents had immigrated to the United States from
Albania. He was highly involved in an Albanian cultural center, and many of my
source interviews were of others who were passionate about Albania, Albanian
culture, and the welfare of the Albanian people. The day I interviewed the
leader of the cultural center, I came into the room cautiously, ready to figure
out whom I needed to be for this interview, but expecting that I would need to
show some interest in Albania in order to help this man feel comfortable with
me. I had extra time in my schedule that day, so I assumed that my best course
of action would be to allow him to extol the virtues of Albania for several
minutes before guiding the conversation to the subject of the interview. I was
right in that assumption, but I was wrong in my assumption that I would be able
to speak with this man about Albania and leave the room caring as little about
it as I had when I walked in. He was so eloquent and descriptive in his praise
of his beloved homeland—he made it sound like a fairytale land full of friendly
people, stunning natural beauty, and rich historical sites that simply begged
to be explored. I did eventually work the conversation around to my subject and
got the information I needed, but I left that room with more than just
information about my subject: I left it with a burning desire to visit Albania.
That night, I asked Jeff what the possibility was of us
being able to travel to Albania one day. “Slim to none.” I sighed and set about
my business of doing interviews, putting Albania out of my mind.
Yesterday, we visited Albania.
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| Part of the castle from which Skanderbeg defended Albania from the Ottomans |
It was a simple day trip. A 3-hour drive from Prishtina to
Kruje. A drive on a good highway through the stunning beauty of the mountains
separating Kosovo and Albania. A short drive on a well-maintained highway
through the plains, skirting the mountain range that rose majestically just a
few miles away. A steep and winding drive on a narrow road from the plains high
into the mountains. A walk along a rough cobblestone street lined with souvenir
shops and continuing up a steep, slippery path to an ancient fortress. Lunch in
the most picturesque of locations—under a canopy, with a view of the
mountainside dropping away into plains, and the sweetest outdoor playground I’ve
ever seen nestled safely in the courtyard of an ancient stone building that
has been converted into a restaurant. Then a walk around a surprisingly small
ancient fortress situated atop the hill, with stunning views in every
direction. A short tour of a beautiful museum featuring a gorgeous terrace. A
slow walk back down to the car, stopping in multiple shops and picking up some
new treasures … and some ice cream. A drive back down the mountain—with some
exploration of a few narrow, steep, dirt “roads” before we decided to ignore
the GPS until we made our own way back to the main road down. Then a three hour
drive back to Prishtina, where we capped off the day with an indulgent meal at
the best Albanian restaurant we’ve ever visited: Tiffany’s, in case you’re ever
in the area and want to taste Albanian food at its finest.
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| A depiction of Skanderbeg and his army |
And the refrain running through my mind now, as I reflect
on a day that seemed so unlikely all those years ago when I first asked Jeff if
we could visit Albania one day? Well, my daughter is watching Dora the Explorer
right now, and her song seems to fit the situation: “We did it!”
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| Our new treasures: a Kosovar woman and an Illyrian soldier |
