Albanian in the gym

[Looking over at the stopwatch: 13 minutes, 23 seconds submerged in ice cold water. In the near distance, a girl knocks on the men’s changeroom door.]
guy: Hi. Can I help you?
girl: I’m looking for my father.
guy: Oh. Did he come into the pool area?
girl: I’m not sure. I must have missed him if he did.
guy: Well you might be waiting some time for him if you’re just knocking.
girl: Maybe someone can go back there and see if he’s there.
guy: I can, but I got to finish my cold plunge. I’m at 13 minutes right now. Gotta hit 20.
girl: Yeah, yeah, no worries, I’ll wait.
guy: Why don’t you check the floor? He might be out there?
girl: I will after.
guy: What’s his name?
girl: Shkumbin.
guy: Oh. Where’s that from?
girl: Albania.
guy: Oh nice. You’re Muslims?
girl: Me no, but my dad is. My mom’s orthodox.
guy: Oh I see. Does he practice?
girl: Not really. Albania was a communist country before so religion wasn’t so prevalent.
guy: Right. I met three Albanians yesterday.
girl: Oh really? Where?
guy: I was at a Turkish restaurant and saw these three guys outside, so I asked them if the food was good. They mentioned they were from Kosovo.
girl: Oh okay.
guy: Yeah but they said there were Albanians, living there.
girl: Nice. How was the food?
guy: It was alright. Those guys said someone recommended it to them, they were from out of town. Compared to another Turkish place I go to literally down the road, this was just okay.
girl: Cool. Food is life!
guy: No doubt. Alright, my twenty minutes is up. Let me check on your dad. Remind me of his name again?
girl: Shkumbin.