More on: immigrant

He leads her
through the streets lined with stands of bleary pears
and baby shoes, through the city stunned
with bunkers, some of the 750,000 built in the Hoxha years.

I’m crowdsourcing these skills from local weavers and the older women in my family—my grandmothers and aunts—who are now scattered all over the world. They’re sharing stories of various such beds they’d woven or inherited and sending videos and patterns over WhatsApp.