Albania, June 2006. We are hosted by a dim and opalescent light, which gets in the way of the curiosity of our eyes. The more we move inland toward Tirana, the more the dust rises from the street; then the dust mingles with the exhaust gases of a traffic which is desperately trying to mock the uproar we are used to in Europe. Fifteen years have elapsed since the first waves of ships and boats filled with Albanians escaping from desolation reached Italy, the close coasts of Apulia. They were refugees escaping from a disconcerting poverty and an oppressive socialism which forbid everything in a Country, ridiculously militarized, where nobody could leave and nobody could enter. The new democratic political order bursts out in a crazy rush toward an elusive economic welfare, admired through old tv-sets tuned on Italian tv stations. Albania, one of the poorest Country on earth, visited by Christ, then Allah and finally Mao, now feels European.