What to say about the past few months? I think they have been very challenging, but in an especially difficult kind of way. Sure, over the years, I have lost more people tragically than I care to recount here, but that does not change the hurt caused by and time needed to heal from yet another tragedy.
I have no idea why today, of all days, I have chosen to finally sit down and put my thoughts down in writing. I could and really should be doing other things, like sorting through pictures and video of the Vacation Bible School the church is running this week and making a presentation for parents to see at the end of the week. It could be that thoughts and emotions have been piling up for too long now, and a particular picture I saw on Facebook today was the last straw. I will vent, relive and hopefully bring a well rounded thought to this tragedy that has recently been experienced and what good, if any, we can take from it.
It was a normal Monday in May. My roommate and I had gone out for a coffee and some friend time because it was our day off. We went to our normal hang out, in the hopes of getting to chat with one of the waiters that we have been trying to get to come to church. As we are sitting, enjoying our coffee and discussing different things, Kerri gets a phone call from our pastor's wife saying that there was an accident with students going to Sarande (a city in the south of Albania known for its beautiful beaches). She explained that the bus had been from the university in Elbasan (the city we live in) and reminded us that some of our university aged girls were on a bus on their way to Sarande with the university.
We immediately asked the waiter to change the TV station to the news. What we saw will be forever etched in my mind. The news here in Albania does not tend to censor tragedies, so if they can get a picture of an accident, blood and all, it will be on TV. Here are some pictures from the news coverage:
At that point, all we knew was that there were about 10 deaths and many injured, but it would be a long time before we would get any solid, reliable information. We knew there were two girls from our church on that bus, Elidona and Dorina. We called Dorina's rommates to see if they had heard anything, and they were in tears, so we left the coffee shop and went to stay with them.
As the hours went by, we hugged the girls, comforted one another and waited with telephones in every hand with the hope of hearing SOMETHING. Finally, one of the girls got a call from someone who said there would be a list of the victims at the University. So, we all went together to see if we could find some news about our missing girls.
Once at the university, we quickly realized that the information we had obtained was false and there was no news or list at the University, but only photo hungry media. We waited there for a while, in the hopes that someone there would have news. Other students came by the masses and some even began lighting candles on the steps of the University:
If you look closely at this picture, you can find my bright bleach blonde head on the right side top, along with Kerri in her pink shirt.
After a while, we decided it would be better for the girls to wait at home, because there were too many people and too many pushy news media at the University. So, we began the walk home, but instead decided to go to our pastor's house to stay because we had met up with his wife at the University. It would be a better central ground for all of us to watch the news together. In this time, Kerri and I needed to go home and get cell phone chargers because our batteries were dead from trying to keep in contact with so many people and trying to find information. We left the girls with the pastor's wife (Rudina) and ran home quickly. While we were at home, I got a phone call from Rudina saying that they had heard news that Dorina was alive and in a hospital in Vlore (a city in the south). This was AMAZING news and I quickly told Kerri and a few others who had asked us to keep them informed. This was a huge weight off of us, but we were still concerned because we had not heard news for Elidona. We grabbed our chargers and went to Rudina's house to watch the news with her family and the girls.
By this time we had already been left to wonder for hours who might be among the dead and injured. We were thankful to have heard the news of Dorina, but we were still very worried for Elidona. As the hours continued to pass, our pastor, Ilir, began to make phone calls to people who might be there. He managed to get in contact with a young man who worked with Campus Crusade for Christ here in Elbasan, and found out that they had a team of guys visiting the injured in the Vlore hospital. Ilir asked if they could visit our Dornia and call us to tell us how she was. He said he would call us when they had seen her.
Another hour or so went by and Ilir called the guys again. He found out that they had been to the hospital and they had visited with Elidona. They said she was awake and did not have life threatening injuries. We were so happy to finally have the news that both of our girls were ok. It was like the whole room exhaled after having held our breath for hours. Ilir asked the guys again to go check on Dorina and let us know how she is doing. As we continued watching the news coverage, we noticed that Dorina's name was on the list of people who was in the Vlore hospital, but Elidona's name was never listed there. We began to wonder what was going on. We knew from more than one reliable source that friends of the girls and Ilir's had met with her and talked to her. We wondered why they never updated their lists on the news. Then, Ilir's phone rang...
I will never forget the look on his face, as if all the blood drained in an instant. We had known something wasn't right. The numbers and what the news was saying just didn't add up. The phone call Ilir received was to inform him that Elidona was in fact at the Vlore hospital. However, it seemed that Dorina was still missing. What had happened was a mix up in names. As Elidona was brought to the hospital, she was frantically searching for her best friend, calling out her name "Dorina Stafa, Dorina Stafa, Dorina Stafa...". In the hustle and bustle of a large scale medical event, she was registered as Dorina. This is why her name was never listed on any of the news lists. She had been identified as someone else, the very girl we were now desperate to get information about.
In the hours since the tragedy, Dorina's family had driven hours and hours from the city of Kruja to the South of Albania to see their daughter/sister in the hospital.
Here are a couple pictures of Kruja, Albania:
When they got to Vlore, they were informed of the name mix up and asked to look at the bodies in the morgue. Thankfully, they didn't find Dorina there and were then told that there were still two girls in the hospital in Tirana who were unidentified. They rushed the hours back to Tirana.
The fact is that Dorina was one of the unidentified girls. However, she died on the operating table before her family got there.
We, at Ilir's house, had seen the update on the news that she had died. We cried together, and then decided (since it was 1 in the morning) that the girls needed to try to sleep. The next day would be a long, very hard one for all of us. You see, in Albanian tradition, the body of a person who dies will be buried within 24 hours. We knew the funeral would be the next day, and it would take time for us to travel to Kruja. So, we all decided to try to get some rest, and meet again in the morning for the trip to the funeral in Kruja.
Now is where I really want to caution my readers. I have toyed with the idea of censoring what we went through that day, but I just feel like it makes the whole thing a bit pointless if I don't tell it all. If you are sensitive to emotional events, please be warned, this is not a lighthearted story.
The Funeral:
I don't even really know where to begin with this part of the story. it was such a crazy mixed up and emotional day. Ilir had arranged a mini bus to take us to Kruja. Half way up the mountain to Kruja, Ilir got a phone call that the body that had been delivered to the house for the funeral was in fact the WRONG body. As if this family hadn't had enough drama and mix ups, they now had to open a casket, only to find a different young girl inside. Dorina's father handled the whole situation with grace and tact saying, "This is a beautiful young girl, but she is not my daughter."
So here we were, half way to Kruja and now questioning whether we would have a funeral or not. In the end it turned out Dorina's body had been delivered to Elbasan, and they quickly got the situation sorted out. When we arrived at the family's home, the body was there. The tradition in Albania is that everyone goes into the room to view the body. Then women stay in the room with the body and some of the female members of the family, while the males all hang out in a different location, in this instance outside.
I remember the feeling of hope I had when I heard that the body they delivered was not Dorina. After all the identification mix ups just hours before, a little spark of hope ignited in me that she might not be dead but just unaccounted for. That spark, however, was killed the moment I walked into the house. Even from the hallway leading up to the viewing room, I could see the body and knew immediately it was her. She looked like Dorina, and she looked like she had been through a terrible accident. Her teeth were broken, she had a giant black hold in her forehead. Seeing her that day was the toughest thing I have ever had to do in my life. The females from our group remained in the viewing room for a few minutes, crying and wailing with the mourning family. I do not know if someone who has not been to this kind of funeral can understand what I mean by "wailing". In this culture, when someone dies, the family wails at the top of their lungs. At first it can seem like an exaggeration and a scary thing, but in the end I have decided that it might be better, in some ways, to be free to mourn rather than having people around who pressure you to "be strong" in a moment when strength is not natural. This I believe to be true only to the believer who can then come above the mourning and wailing and find God's face again, rather than falling into a depression. Even for those who choose to keep a strong attitude, this is easier said than done.
After a few minutes in the viewing room, the ladies from our church went together to another room to greet Dori's sister. This was one of the hardest parts of it all, because we have known and loved Dori's sister, Sejada, for a long time. To see her reaction to it all was difficult. She lost her baby sister, and while she showed a remarkable Christian strength, it was still a moment when no words were enough for any one of us to give to her. What can you do in this situation? I am always so thankful for the advice of a long time mentor. He used to always say, "Laugh with those who laugh and cry with those who cry.". In the very moments following a tragedy such as this, there is no better advice. It is not a moment to preach or encourage. It is a moment to live out one of the emotions God created in us. The time comes later to comfort and encourage. This moment was one for mourning together. Even though we all knew Dori's strong Christian faith ensured us she was in Heaven, there is a process to something like this and the people left behind will need a moment to mourn their loss.
After the viewing and visiting with the sister, we walked outside to await the procession to the graveyard. Many people were there that day. Its amazing to see how many lives this wonderful girl had touched in one way or another.
We then went together down the mountain to Kruja's graveyard. For me, this was the most difficult part. As I watched people cover the casket with the earth, I couldn't help but want to apologize to my little Dorina for having to now throw dirt in her face. As ridiculous as it sounds, in this moment I felt like we were betraying her. I mean, how can we throw dirt on a face we love? How can we put her underground and walk away? It was a very emotional process for me, personally, as for many others in our group.
After the accident Kerri and I had many opportunities to share God and His enduring love in many ways. Sadly, we learned that Dorina was the only believer who died in the accident. 11 others died who did not believe. However, it is amazing the doors God opened through the tragedy. One example, the waiter we had been working on for so long finally came to church, even if it was just for the memorial service, it is a step in the right direction and we still hold out hope for him to grow in the things of God.
Sejada (Dori's sister) was baptized at this summer's youth camp in Pogradecs, and Keli (her brother) prayed a salvation prayer at the same camp. These are things that bring healing for those of us still grieving. For a long time, we have prayed for God to touch this family, and I believe that God is doing something in them as a family unit. I believe that He can use this tragedy to show Himself to them in a new way, and I am sure He has already begun this work.
There are many questions that people ask when tragedy like this arises. Thankfully (or not), having been through similar incidents before this, I was very well prepared to help those around me. I am thankful that God was able to use me, and I am sure that He will continue to use my experiences to touch people's lives in moments similar to this.
I know one thing for sure, God is good and His love for us is without end. I have come to the conclusion that death, especially due to tragedy, will never be something we can handle well. However, that being said, I would also like to point out that we do not look at death the way God does. I believe He has an infinite plan for each individual that will carry on, in a different way, even after death. For Him death is a new chapter in life. For us, it feel terrible and unexplainable, because we will not understand the depth of the real meaning of it until we ourselves experience it.
I will not lie, life has been very difficult since the accident. I can speak only for myself, but I will do so with 100% honesty. I have had ups and downs, and even today I have moments where I feel like I am losing it, emotionally. I think it will be a long road to healing for all of us, after a precious part of our church left us so suddenly and tragically. However, my hope lies in the One Who creates life. In the One Who gives and Who takes away. I know He is bigger than me and His thoughts are higher than mine... by FAR. Who am I to try and judge Him based on this?
No, this is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.
A picture of Dori on her way to Sarande. This picture was taken not long before this very bus flew off a cliff and killed 12 people, including our beloved Dorina Stafa. She is pictured on the far right with her friend Elidona on the left.
I can't really say why I chose to write this blog now, other than it was about time I fully let go and shared with you all. Thanks for reading.
Julie
