For centuries, in the closed-off and conservative
society of rural, northern Albania ,
to swap genders was considered a practical solution for a family with a
shortage of men.
Pashe Keqi recalled the day nearly 60 years ago when she decided to become a man. She chopped off her long black curls, traded in her dress for her father’s baggy trousers, armed herself with a hunting rifle and vowed to forsake marriage, children and sex.
Her father was killed in a blood feud, and there
was no male heir. By custom, Ms. Keqi, now 78, took a vow of lifetime
virginity. She lived as a man, the new patriarch, with all the swagger and
trappings of male authority — including the obligation to avenge her father’s
death.
“Back then, it was better to be a man because
before a woman and an animal were considered the same thing,” said Ms. Keqi,
who has a bellowing baritone voice, sits with her legs open wide like a man and
relishes downing shots of raki. “Now, Albanian women have equal rights with
men, and are even more powerful. I think today it would be fun to be a woman.”
The tradition of the sworn virgin can be traced to the Kanun of Leke Dukagjini, a code of conduct passed on orally among the clans of northern
The sworn virgin was born of social necessity in
an agrarian region plagued by war and death. If the family patriarch died with
no male heirs, unmarried women in the family could find themselves alone and
powerless. By taking an oath of virginity, women could take on the role of men
as head of the family, carry a weapon, own property and move freely.
Passport telling of Ms Keqi's sex
They dressed like men and spent their lives in
the company of other men, even though most kept their female given names. They
were not ridiculed, but accepted in public life, even adulated. For some the
choice was a way for a woman to assert her autonomy or to avoid an arranged
marriage.
Thanks to the NY Times