Albanian immigrant to Greece, Almir Hoxhaj, now speaks Greek as well as his mother tongue. After over 30 years in Greece, he feels part of the country, but adapting to Greek society where the word ‘Albanian’ is even used as an insult has not been easy. This is his personal story.

By Almir Hoxhaj

I was born in a small village in the district of Avlonas, where I lived until I was twelve years old. My family moved to Tirana, but in 1997 I made the difficult decision to look for a better future in Greece. It was common at that time, after the borders were opened, for Albanians to seek safety in Greece as, supposedly, the land borders made it easier. I crossed the border on foot eighteen times. I was afraid of the sea. I even remember my final trek of five days to Veroia where, despite the non-stop rain, I was incredibly thirsty. When I finally held a full glass of water in my hand, it wasn’t enough to satisfy me. This is how my life in Greece started. With a full glass of water in my hand.

My first contact with the country took place when I was 15 years old when I crossed the border secretly for the first time with friends. It didn’t even cross our minds that we were doing something illegal. If I could have flown to Greece, I would have. Greece, its language, its mythology, and its history were particularly appealing to me. In the summer I worked hard, trying to support my family. My definitive move to Greece was full of challenges: legal uncertainty, racism and problems integrating. I distinctly remember one incident in the beginning. There illegally, without insurance, I did not know the language – and one of my teeth broke. My only option was to take it out myself, pulling it out in front of a mirror with some pliers I used at work. My mouth was full of blood.

Adapting to Greek society was not easy. As a first-generation migrant, I felt like a foreigner – as if I constantly had blood in my mouth. I was there illegally and I was afraid to go out for a walk or coffee. I experienced racism everywhere, in many forms. A father threatened his small child that he would get the Albanian to eat them if they did not keep quiet. I was refused entry to cafés, clubs, and other places, some of which, when I first went there, even had a sign saying ‘No Albanians’. They called us dirty because we were from a different religion. Relations between Greeks and Albanians are better now, although stereotypes remain. The word ‘Albanian’ in Greece is even used as an insult. There was racism, and there still is, but it is milder now. Times have changed. Nevertheless, racism persists, amplified by financial difficulties and lack of education.

Prejudices and discrimination are deeply rooted and often give rise to extreme political and social patterns which expand and even reach as far as the European Parliament. This is sad! Although the situation has improved, it remains a reality. However, there is hope for the younger generations. Our children will have a better chance of being fully accepted. This is also the case for my 12-year-old daughter.

Today, working as a building contractor, I look back with mixed feelings. The difficulties in adapting and the lack of acceptance I experienced were a daily reality. Nevertheless, through these challenges, I developed a deeper understanding of life and the importance of integration.

Albania remains forever a part of me. I remember clearly the years of the Communist regime. It was a time of paranoia, fear, insecurity and extreme poverty. The fall of the regime brought relief, but also new problems such as unemployment and crime. These experiences shaped me; they taught me to appreciate the stability and freedom I have found in Greece.

Personally, I feel connected to Greece. Even though my heart lies in my village in Albania, my life is here. My Greek is as good as my mother tongue. My experiences, my battles and my achievements make me feel part of this country. I hope that, with time, Greek people will fully accept us, acknowledging our contribution to society.

Migration is a test full of challenges, but also opportunities and, as an Albanian migrant in Greece, there was no way I could avoid it. My story is one full of challenges, adaptation and hope.

In the years to come, I see myself continuing my life in Greece, which is my home, and Albania as an equal member of the European Union. This is now the homeland of all of us.

Almir Hoxhaj is 47 years old. He lives and works in Tripoli, a small town on the Greek Peloponnese peninsula. He has a 12-year-old daughter. His favourite city is Berlin. He speaks and writes Greek fluently and has translated the book ‘The Saga of the Stars of Dawn’ [Το έπος των άστρων της Αυγής] by Albanian author Rudi Erebara into Greek. The book was awarded the European Union Prize for Literature in 2017 and describes the tragedy of the Albanian people in the 20th century. Although the story unfolds in the previous century, the essence of totalitarianism, fascism, and irrationalism unfortunately remains relevant today, in more ‘modern’ forms.