Luan, an Albanian man living in Italy, is struggling with a gambling addiction that drove him far from his loved ones. He tells La Stampa his story and about how he is trying to start fresh in Milan.
MILAN — Until 2018, I lived in Bolzano (in Italy’s far north) and was followed by social workers, because I wanted to stop wasting the money I earned as a laborer into slot machines. People would call me the “Albanian bulldozer,” because I was good at lifting weights and putting things down gently.
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I had many people who loved me, like my brother, my boss and other coworkers, people who cared for me without asking for anything in return. Gambling is a mystery, because everytime I would walk into a slot room, I knew I would lose everything.
And yet I did it anyway. It’s something that makes me angry… I can’t even tell how many times I felt like an asshole. Sometimes it happened that I only had 200 euros left in my pockets, and I could have said “I’ve already lost €800, that’s enough.” But no, I had to go all in. Luckily, I never indebted myself as I would only gamble what I had in my hands, because I know what they do to you when you borrow money and don’t give it back. And I care about my fingers and my teeth.
Uncle Samir
We come from Scutari, a village in north Albania, closer to Serbia and Montenegro than to Greece. Many there are like me and my brother Vonek, blonde with blue eyes. I believe that this is the reason why Italian people tend to smile at me. It’s also the reason why I know how the Slavs that loan you money at low interest rates behave, if you don’t give the money back on time.
My dad would always tell us the story of Uncle Samir: he wanted a Mercedes at all costs and ended up into debt, but the next summer he found himself without his right hand to use the gearbox. And then, some months later, he also found himself without a gearbox and without a Mercedes.
It’s not a nice story, but we’ve heard it so many times that even if Uncle Samir says that he lost his hand in a lathe, we never believed him. And all in all, the car, the lathe, the hand and uncle’s smiling face in his car with automatic transmission, what remains stuck in our heads is that owing money to someone is not good.
When something clicks
I stayed in Bolzano for a long time, and even though I would mess up from time to time, I would always get back on track thanks to my brother and social services. Sometimes I would feel okay for some months, I would work and feel fine.
For a while I also had a girlfriend, Karin. She was a good girl employed in a bank. We would meet up during our lunch break. I was always at the construction site and around noon I would take my bike and go with my sandwich and my beer to her workplace. And we would chat while sitting next to each other on a bench. I thought I could have a normal life as well.
But then after a while something clicks, it doesn’t take much, you walk in there and it’s over. Once I remember that I was at my brother’s place, on a Sunday, with his wife and children, everything was going smoothly. Then at night I left to go back home, but instead I walked inside a slot room, and I gambled all my salary.
I could have paid four months of rent in advance if I’d won.
I only went there to watch a game, because they let you see sports competitions for free, and I remember seeing a couple drinking and gambling — Albanians like me — so I told them: “Don’t you know that you never win here?”
They replied that they knew. And yet they stayed, sipping their beer. It felt weird because I wanted to save them, but I couldn’t save myself. Because as I watched the two of them and the game on the screen I told myself that I knew what the final score would be: 2-0. It was obvious. So I bet 300 euros on this result.
I could have paid four months of rent in advance if I’d won. But the final score was 2-1. That was clearly not a penalty. Fucking referees. Might as well play red and black on roulette. But there was no roulette there, so I took a tennis match and put 300 euros on Dimitrov winning two sets to zero. And when he lost the first set, what was I supposed to do?
Putting all I had left on Dimitrov winning the game two sets to one. I would have gained the money I lost, plus one month of rent. But it didn’t happen. Dimitrov lost, I lost, and the same goes for the couple.
Fresh start
When you have this life, you get to the point where you’re tired of disappointing those helping you out. For me it happened that night. I left Bolzano the next morning. And that’s why I sleep on a bench now.
No one knew me here in Milan, and I knew no one. I told myself I could start fresh here. What I feel is that when I have money in my pockets I’m in danger and I feel bad, while I feel great when my pockets are empty. I always have some work because I am very strong, smiling and trustworthy.
I want to try to have money in my pockets and not gamble it.
That allows me to earn some money, but my jobs are always temporary— moving, remodeling, painting. So maybe one month I have a job and another I don’t, and I don’t want to risk being evicted. Maybe one day I will try to share a flat with someone, but I need to feel stronger first. I want to try to have money in my pockets and not gamble it.
A couple of years ago, I was sitting on my bench with another person at night. We chatted for a while, and when she found out I didn’t have a place to stay she asked me what I could do. I told her I could do everything.
She said that she had a house in the countryside and that she needed some help with the gardening. I had recently arrived in Milan. We went there together, I cleaned and cut the grass and then we ate together, I was happy. Ever since, I go there once a week to help her out, and I also sleep in a bed for one night.
Thinking about the future
With the life I lead now it’s impossible to think about the future. Maybe in five years, I will have a home — probably not a family because it’s too late, but maybe a partner. But I don’t think about it. It’s useless to look for another person if I don’t feel okay with myself. If I don’t fix myself first, I think ruining another person would be pointless. I thank God that I am alone, so I don’t ruin anyone.
Right now I feel okay, because if I do some work I am fine even if I sleep outside. I walk past slot rooms but I never go in, since before the pandemic. I give all the money I earn to that lady, because I trust her more than I trust myself.
I built this balance with patience and struggle. But I feel like I’m sick and my illness could come out any moment. I believe many people gamble because they feel alone, but being alone has never been a problem for me, and I’m used to it anyways.
For me it’s something different. But I don’t quite know what it is. All I know is that I don’t trust myself. I stay here and read my books. I wash myself in the morning, eat breakfast and then go to work. But I get those that gamble because they feel alone. I get that, to some, being in a slot room feels good. And you know why? Because people there never judge you. Never.
