Last Australian winter we spent four days staying with a family on their small farm in Borsh, Albania. Borsh is a small village slightly inland from a beautiful coastline (dotted with many somewhat poorly planned hotels and restaurants) in the Albanian Riveria, the southern coast of Albania.

We stayed with a family, Gipo and his parents Naim and Viktoria, who showed us the best hospitality, and left a mark on our hearts. Gipo’s family are worldly though haven’t travelled far; their ability to laugh at themselves with self respect was golden; they are not a wealthy family but their values are rock solid; and their level of contentment many times higher than mine or anyone I know living in a developed country.

They generously shared their lives with us while simultaneously working from dawn until dusk on their small farm. Summer is a prosperous time in this area. It seemed every square inch of their land was utilised to grow fruit, vegetables and support their flock of sheep and goats. Just after arriving the first thing I noticed was how carefully pruned the pear tree beside their porch was, to maximise production. I was offered a pear as soon as I pointed it out. They constantly shared home grown figs, pears and grapes from their garden throughout our stay.

Having just left Greece, we had so little knowledge of Albania and its culture. Gipo figured out that Diamond could speak Greek, as could his father, Naim. Naim and Diamond fell into an easy and very friendly conversation. Naim had spent several years working in Greece after the fall of communism. He couldn’t speak more lovingly of Greece and its people. He felt welcomed there in the early 1990s and had himself baptised in a Greek Orthodox Church. He and Diamond chatted into the night each evening.

It was an hilarious, and at times, four language conversation. Naim would interject his conversation with Italian words when his Greek failed him, Viktoria waited for Gipo to share her Albanian or Italian in English with us, Gipo couldn’t speak Greek but could speak about 5 other languages, while I sat there dumbly, waiting for Diamond to translate Naim’s Greek for me! Many older Albanians learned Italian at a younger age from illegally transmitted Italian television shows during the communist era.

Viktoria made up for her lack of English with her warm and generous gestures, often calling for ‘Charlie!’ with great warmth. I watched Viktoria work so hard throughout the day. I asked to follow her and photograph her day but she wasn’t into that, so I stopped. She fascinated me because she lived the life my mother in law had lived before leaving Greece for Australia. All the stories Maria has shared with me, such as making cheese from their own sheep or goats milk, I could see Viktoria doing here (and later with other Albanian women).

The family worked so hard all day and then somehow had the energy to stop and make meals for us and chat. In the evenings we had such interesting conversations with their family, sharing Naim’s incredible homemade red wine. (Naim admitted he had no idea there was a yeast you could use to ferment wine.. he used only the old methods, relying on the natural bacteria on the grapes to ferment the wine. It tasted amazing, even in its plastic bottle!).

After a few days their shepherd, Annis, returned from a short trip. He also had spent time in Greece and could chat easily with Diamond. His story still moves us.

Annis bravely escaped the communist regime on foot, across the border into Greece, risking torture or death. He had to carry his 18 year old girlfriend on his back as she was so worn out by the journey. Annis made a new life for themselves in Greece, and like Name, he was welcomed with open arms, learned Greek and was baptised in the Greek Orthodox Church. After many successful years being a truck driver there, he returned to a liberated Albania in the mid 1990s with a decent amount of money behind him.

Though, sadly, he lost it all to the Albanian pyramid schemes in 1996-97, schemes believed to have been backed by the Albanian government. The scale of the collapse was unprecedented – about two thirds of the Albanian population was invested in these schemes. A country new to international financial markets having only just emerged from many decades of a brutal dictatorship. Albania descended into anarchy, with the government collapsing and almost 2,000 people killed in what came close to a civil war.

Sadly for Annis, he also tragically lost his beloved wife in a car accident a few years later. He now makes his living as a shepherd, spending his days up in the mountains grazing Name and Viktoria’s flock of sheep and goats, living in a humble hut beside the family home. His pain was still fresh, Diamond and I were teary and quite speechless hearing his story. Annis’ story helped us deeply appreciate the turmoil Albanians have lived through. But it also helped us appreciate the pride and forgiveness they have mustered – the humour they have and their humility and modesty. Their humanity.

Early the following morning Annis and Naim had me come along to photograph them as they milked the flock of sheep. Annis, such a gentleman, gallantly helped me navigate the sheep poop in my thongs and showed me the best spots to take my photos from. He showed me how he uses his shepherd’s crook and Naim later showed me where the sheep leave to head for the mountains.

Gipo, Naim’s son, is the next generation of Albanians. He is intelligent, in his early 20s, and is currently studying to be a pharmacist. His sister is a doctor in the nearby regional city. He has the world at his feet, he could live any kind of life he wants. And he embodies the wisdom of an older person, taking this country’s vast body of terrible history, as well as racial pride, with him. He sees his country for all its faults and he is proud of his ethnicity.

I didn’t take many photographs with Gipo’s family. I honestly felt a little unmatched in their humanity – which sounds so strange to say out loud – I simply enjoyed soaking up the moments with them like good wine.

My admiration for this family also left me with a very deep sense of concern for our society’s lack of contentment.. always trying to be more: more mindful, more successful, more authentic, more busy, more popular on social media.. I rarely saw anyone in this area with a mobile phone (data much too expensive). As Albania connects more to the outside world, I hope its people never lose their beautiful humanity.