The train Korab Syla was riding kept going until he finally realized it wasn’t destined for Yonkers, New York.

He lost track of time, hopped off the train and tried another.

No luck.

Both took him to parts unknown in New York City, at least to a 16-year-old who moved to the United States just three years prior.

After jumping trains for about two hours, he found the one heading to Yonkers with help from strangers.

“I was just nervous,” he said, “because you don’t really know anyone.”

Around 8 p.m., he arrived home to his parents’ asking where he’d been.

He lied and told them he stayed longer than expected in New York City. All that mattered was that he reached home.

—

A 13-year-old Korab arrived to John F. Kennedy Airport from Albania in 2006. On the car ride from JFK to Yonkers, he marveled at the New York skyscrapers, if only for a second, and became just a ripple in a wave of 8 million people.

He lacks a material love of cars, houses and buildings because it contradicts his upbringing in poverty-ridden Albania.

“I just looked at everything,” Korab said, “it’s not so special.”

Those that know him best have dissolved the long-ingrained timidity guarding sarcasm that emerges once he’s comfortable. He once tried imitating Herkimer Community College teammate Peter McAvoy’s Scottish accent. The team cracked up when Korab butchered the dialect with a mix of his Yonkers accent.

He’s taken several steps out of his comfort zone, from Albania to Yonkers, Yonkers to Herkimer, New York, Herkimer back to Albania and then Albania to Syracuse. Each step since arriving to the United States has pushed him closer to the image his parents had when they moved here, further distancing himself from his home country.

At Syracuse, the senior doesn’t have any possessions from Albania. His name, Korab, coming from the highest mountain in Albania, is the only thing reminding him of his past. It’s a past he doesn’t plan on revisiting long-term, but one that’s molded him for the future.

“Life in Albania wasn’t that great, so like, anything better you’re appreciative of,” Korab said. “Not necessarily for the American Dream, just for a better life.”

—

Unpaved roads and bunkers dotting the Albanian countryside are visible remnants of a 50-year communist regime that ravaged the nation. Out of boredom, Korab occasionally walked to the nearest bunker from his house and climbed on the mushroom-shaped, concrete structure. Slits allowed him to peer in, but he never entered.

Korab found joy climbing the dormant structure that served its use only in the country’s painful past.

Changing from a government-based economy to a free-market economy similar to the U.S., squeezed the country through economic growing pains.

Ibish and Ajshe Syla decided to ditch the poverty-stricken country in July 2006, also leaving their three-story house that often hosted their family gatherings.

“My family thought it would be better,” Korab said. “… Like it wasn’t much of my choice. They did it for me and my brother.”

Within three or four days of moving, the Sylas had a house. Korab didn’t realize he could play soccer since teams weren’t affiliated with Albanian schools. He consciously hung around American kids to learn English, and said they had to explain “everything” to him.

“It was probably annoying for the kids,” Korab said. “Because they’re like, ‘Oh, I have to explain this to him now?’”

Despite not fully knowing how to look for a job, he was hired at a valet service.

He valeted luxurious private events and drove Mercedes, Ferraris and even a Tesla, which he said rides as quiet as can be. But he cared about the cars and mansions as much as he cared for the big buildings in New York City — very little.

—

Korab and Ilir Cunmulaj, his neighbor and teammate at Saunders Trade and Technical (New York) High School, set up a free kick against Clarkstown South (New York) High School.

“Watch, this one’s going to go in,” Cunmulaj remembers Korab saying.

From 40 yards out, Korab scored. The goalie was expecting a cross.

Despite two years of not playing school soccer — he played for FC Westchester, a club team — Korab started on the varsity team in his sophomore season.

After a 29-goal, 18-game senior season, Korab had no plans after high school because he didn’t understand the process of applying to colleges. He thought he’d work a 9-to-5 job or play professionally in Europe.

Instead, his club coach, Brian Robinson, linked Korab with Herkimer Community College. Two to three weeks before Herkimer’s season started, Korab gave head coach Pepe Aragon a call.

“I went there thinking they’re not going to be very good,” Korab said, “and probably the coach was thinking I’m not going to be a good player because he just called me to try out. He usually recruits players.”

In two seasons with Aragon, Korab won a national championship. He jumped from being a relative unknown to the National Junior College Athletic Association player of the year.

Nights he spent alone training on fields in Yonkers materialized into a commitment to Syracuse.

—

In a week and a half, he decided to go back to Albania alone because he missed his extended family. He only told his immediate family and a friend or two.

“I was very worried because I know how the Albanian state is,” Cunmulaj said. “So I said, ‘You know, Korab, do what you want to do and you’ll be great.’”

The plan was never to stay long-term, but nobody could talk him out of leaving the states.

He lived with his sister, rotating to his uncles’ houses every week or so. Pickup games with old friends and soccer tryouts filled his time, while most friends had stopped playing organized soccer.

Many worked dead-end jobs or didn’t work at all, which made him want to get an education. It’s what Korab’s parents wanted to protect him from.

Syracuse head coach Ian McIntyre contacted his family without Korab knowing. A month into the trip to Albania, McIntyre called him.

“It has to be the right time,” McIntyre said of Korab coming to SU. “… Sometimes things happen for a reason.”

Korab wasn’t back in time for the 2013 season. In Syracuse, he saw what his parents wanted for him — a college education. McIntyre worked with him over the phone to ensure an October return from his sabbatical.

“I think he came back with this enormous fire in his eyes,” Cunmulaj said. “… He said, ‘I’m going to go hard. I’m going to go to Syracuse and do something big. I’m really going to do it this time.’”

—

The clock dripped past 5 p.m. 5:05, 5:10, 5:15. Then, 5:30, a half hour past when he’s supposed to be here.

Just a year and a half ago, Korab arrived at Syracuse. He was tightlipped to start, just like on his visit in the spring of 2013. Juuso Pasanen, who hosted Korab, saw flashes of a jokester.

It’s taken time. Nearly two years at Syracuse. Nine years in the United States. Finally he’s showing signs of settling in.

Pasanen said if a teammate can’t find their shorts, Korab will say, “Those shorts,” giving the teammate a bit of hope he had found them.

“Yeah?” the teammate asks.

“No, never seen them before,” Korab responds.

The clock crawls … 5:30, 5:35, 5:40. Finally, at 5:45, accompanied by a T-shirt, shorts and slip-on sandals on a dreary day, he saunters into the SU Athletic Communications office.

He’s dealt with the uncertainty of his life circumstances by letting things fall in place, and now he’s moving at his own pace.

After Syracuse is over, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. The uncertainty has crept up before and it stalks him now. But this time, it guides him to a future instead of back to his past.

Published on November 15, 2015 at 10:00 pm

Contact Chris: cjlibona@syr.edu | @ChrisLibonati