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The village: both a dream and a nightmare

2026-09-05 18:52:15Pikëpamje SHKRUAR NGA ÇAPAJEV GJOKUTAJ

The village: both a dream and a nightmare

Today's village appears to us in a sharp contradiction: for some it is the cradle of longing, identity, and childhood; for others it remains a harsh economic and social reality. This contradiction stems from two different points of view.

Those who do not abandon it experience it on a daily basis, without filters, a space where love for the land is often overshadowed by isolation, lack of infrastructure, and the inability to build a comfortable future.

Those who flee take the village with them in the form of memories and idealize it through longing. The city offers them material comfort, but takes away their spiritual peace and turns their origins into an ideal haven where "life had meaning."

The dream village is the tranquility of nature, clean air, greenery, hospitality and solidarity of the community, simple life without the stress of schedules, traffic, technology. The village in disarray is physical and social isolation, lack of perspective, hard work with minimal financial reward, structural poverty and the emptying of houses one by one.

It remains beautiful as long as it is visited as a vacation spot or remembered as poetry, but it becomes difficult to afford when it turns into everyday life with few basic living conditions. People do not abandon the village because they stop loving it, but because love for themselves and their children's future forces them to seek more than just landscape and clean air.

The village represents the myth of origin, the place where man is still connected to the land, to the cyclical time of nature and to a simple life. When we remember or dream of it, we seek not only a geographical space, but a lost origin. The city offers us function, but fragments us and turns us into anonymous; the village offers us belonging, but narrows our possibilities of self-realization.

Longing is also creativity: those who have left do not love the village as it is, but as they remember it. Memories erase the mud and the hardship, leaving only the light of sunset or the freshness of dawn.

Amidst these images, a kind of guilt also arises: abandoning the village is experienced as abandoning one's roots and the graves of one's ancestors. Meanwhile, for those who remain, the village ceases to be poetry and becomes a narrow frame, a prison of origin where one hardly has enough space to become oneself.

The paradox of the village lies in the fact that it is the necessary sacrifice of progress. To become "modern," man had to detach himself from the land, but this detachment leaves a void that nothing urban can ever fully fill. We abandon the village to become someone and then spend the rest of our lives wanting to return to where we were simply ourselves!


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