As Americans head into Independence Day weekend, freedom is usually talked about through a very American lens — flags, fireworks, history, patriotism, and the idea of what it means to be free.

But this year, I found myself thinking about freedom from a very different place.

I was standing in Tirana, Albania, observing a peaceful protest outside government offices. People were chanting in Albanian, calling for accountability, calling for Prime Minister Edi Rama to resign, and demanding that Albania’s land, laws, and natural resources be protected.

The protest took place along Bulevardi Dëshmorët e Kombit, in front of the Prime Minister’s Office in Tirana.

I went to observe, not to pretend I understand every layer of Albanian politics. I am still learning this country in real time.

But what stood out to me was how peaceful, organized, and human the protest felt.

The Chants Were Direct

The crowd was chanting in Albanian, and even though I did not understand every word in real time, the message was clear.

People were calling for Rama to resign. They were calling for accountability. They were calling for the law to be repealed.

Some of the chants and signs I heard or saw included:

“Rama shkon në burg”
Roughly translated: “Rama to jail” or “Rama go to jail.”

“Ju ka ardhur fundi”
Roughly translated: “Your end has come.”

“Rama, jep dorëheqjen!”
Roughly translated: “Rama, resign” or “Rama, submit your resignation.”

On one of the flamingo signs, I also saw:

“Raama, Raama, jepe dorëheqjen.”

The spelling on protest signs can be stylized for emphasis, but the message was clear: people wanted him to resign.

What struck me was that the crowd was loud, but not out of control.

People were angry, but peaceful.

Serious, but respectful.

There was a strong feeling of solidarity in the crowd.

Photos by Rhoda Ashby for She Moves Abroad™

What Protesters Told Me

One protester made something very clear to me.

He said the protest was not about Trump or the Kushners.

It was about Albania.

It was about the people of Albania getting the government they deserve — a government that works for the people, not only for the benefit of itself.

That stayed with me.

Because from the outside, especially when international names or headlines get attached to a story, it can be easy for foreigners to reduce everything to whatever angle they already understand.

But standing there, listening to people, it felt much more grounded than that.

People were talking about land, resources, accountability, government, and the future of the country.

I asked one protester what he hoped would come from the protest.

His answer was simple: Rama’s resignation, and the law being repealed.

The Atmosphere Was Peaceful

The protest drew thousands of people, and possibly tens of thousands. I had seen and heard larger estimates circulating, but official numbers had not been confirmed at the time I was writing this. What I can say is that it felt like a major gathering.

Even with that many people in the streets, the atmosphere did not feel dangerous to me.

I did not notice a heavy police presence where I was standing. People were walking, chanting, talking, holding signs, beating drums, carrying pink flamingos, and moving through the space calmly.

There was even an area where children could play and color, with adults nearby supervising.

That detail mattered to me.

It said something about the tone of the evening.

This was not a crowd that felt reckless. It felt organized. It felt communal. People came to make a point, but they also came as families, friends, neighbors, and citizens.

A Marriage Proposal in the Middle of a Protest

One of the sweetest and most unexpected moments of the night was watching a young man get down on one knee and propose to his future wife in the middle of the protest.

It was such a human moment.

Around them, people were chanting. Signs were raised. Drums were beating. The crowd was calling for political change. And then, right in the middle of all of that, this young couple had a life moment.

It was tender.

It was hopeful.

And it reminded me that civic life is not separate from ordinary life.

People do not stop being people because they are protesting. They still laugh. They still fall in love. They still bring their children. They still show up with friends. They still make memories.

That moment softened the night in a way I did not expect.

The Signs Told Their Own Story

Some of the signs were direct.

One said:

“Albania is Not for Sale.”

Others called for laws to be repealed and permits, contracts, and decisions issued under those laws to be revoked.

There were also pink flamingos throughout the crowd, which gave the protest a visual identity that was hard to miss. They stood out against the dark blue evening sky and the lights of Tirana.

It was serious, but also creative.

The message was strong, but the visual language was memorable too.

What It Made Me Think About as an American Abroad

Because this happened so close to Independence Day, I could not help thinking about the different ways people talk about freedom.

In the U.S., Independence Day often becomes a familiar ritual: cookouts, fireworks, red, white, and blue, and speeches about liberty and national pride.

But standing in Albania, watching people gather outside government offices and demand better from their leaders, made the idea of freedom feel less abstract.

Freedom is not just something written into history.

It is something people continue to fight for.

It is people standing in the street and saying, “This is our country too.”

It is people asking for land to be protected.

It is people demanding accountability.

It is people refusing to be silent when they believe decisions are being made without them.

Again, I am not Albanian. I am not here to speak over Albanians or explain their politics as if I fully understand them.

But I can say what I observed.

And what I observed was peaceful, organized, emotional, and deeply human.

Living Abroad Means Paying Attention

This is one of the things people do not always think about when they imagine moving abroad.

They think about rent, healthcare, food, safety, weather, cost of living, walkability, apartments, and whether daily life might feel better somewhere else.

All of that matters.

But when you live in another country, you are not just moving into a cheaper lifestyle or a prettier backdrop.

You are entering a real country.

A country with citizens, history, politics, tensions, pride, frustration, and hope.

You are living near people who are fighting for their own future.

And if you are going to live somewhere, I think you should care enough to notice.

Final Thoughts

That was the part I kept thinking about after I left.

Living abroad means seeing the country beyond cafés, rent, scenery, and cost of living. It also means witnessing how people fight for their future, protect their land, and demand better from their government.

If moving abroad has been on your mind, you do not have to figure it all out alone. You can book a free 15-minute Move Abroad Clarity Session with me to talk through where you are, what you are considering, and what your next practical step could be.

What I Observed at a Peaceful Protest in Albania