HSM

As I was saying good-bye to my friends today it hit me. It always happens that way here. Whenever I've had a wonderful time with lots of friends the time comes to go our separate ways and after ten minutes of being without them I feel utterly and helplessly alone. I don't remember this ever happening when my friends and I lived only twenty miles apart and we'd see each other the next week or maybe the next day. Here it hits me every time, more now than in the beginning.
This time as I got on the bus, bracing myself for the 3 hour ride back to my town, I saw a friend that was on her way back as well. I sat next to her, happy for at least the comforting presence of a friend. As we rode away we started talking about our weekends and something interesting happened. The woman I was sitting next to, Emi, is a teacher at my school. She's three years older than me, speaks English very well (all through self-motivation), is married, has a 3 year old son, a house, and a mortgage. I had never talked to her outside of a work-related environment. Sure we're friends; I go to her house almost weekly for language lessons or just a cup of coffee and a chat. Every interaction we've had though stems from school. Sitting on the bus next to Emi I realized how different we were, how completely opposite our lives are.
She had gone into Sofia for the final exam of her voluntary weekend English course (She teaches classes all week and then two weekends out of the month for the past year she's been traveling into Sofia to study English all weekend so she can be a better teacher.) I went into Sofia to watch a silly, fun movie and drink Starbucks (it's brand new here) with my girlfriends. I had had an excellent day of eating, shopping, coffee drinking, silly song singing, picture taking, movie watching awesomeness. She had had a stress-filled day with 8-hours of exams. I was returning to my cat and my cold apartment, my only responsibility to prepare for class the next day. She went home to pick up her son and husband, warm the house, fix dinner, clean, and plan for the next day.
I don't know why it struck me so suddenly, but it was almost as if we lived in parallel universes. Then I realized that all of the friends I have in town have the same story. They are all married, in their early to mid-thirties, have full-time jobs, and children. I enjoy all my friends and the time I spend with them however different it is. But, my friends with children can't do things at night or for longer than a few hours and my single friends and I have weekend sleepovers. So when I'm in my town I spend almost every evening alone in my apartment, since it's culturally unacceptable to go to a cafe or restaurant alone. So when I have something to compare that to, say... going out almost every night with friends, it makes my day-to-day life seem stark. Perhaps this is why I feel the loneliness when I leave my single, mid-twenties, carefree friends. Is there anything I can do about this? I don't really think so. I enjoy my life and my friends in my town, but I also love the group of single girls I get to hang out with every so often. Both keep me here, going, and happy (most of the time). So I guess it's just another paradox of Peace Corps.

Smells like Uncle Jim

The past 24 hours has been quite interesting. But it all started a couple months ago with a broken light.
First the light bulb blew at 10 pm and the whole apartment (all two rooms) went black. Luckily I am one of the few PCVs who has a breaker box, not just fuses. So all i had to do was take out the bulb and flip the breaker. But when I tried to replace the bulb, nothing worked. All the bulbs are fine, so it must be the socket. Oh well, I'll have someone fix it later. They're busy with remodeling now.
Then my faucet started dripping, sometimes pouring... now this could cost them money, so definitely want to get it fixed soon. Sometimes you couldn't turn the faucet off. It would just be running water and no matter what you did to try and turn it off you couldn't until it was ready and then all the sudden viola magically it would let you turn it off.
After various other household incidents (2 more light bulbs, breakers flipping intermitantly, mold discoveries) I finally had 'the big one' last night.
Act 1. I was getting ready to go to bed and washing the last of my dishes and when I went to turn off the water an explosion of watertastic amounts happen. All the sudden water was spraying and gushing everywhere! I didn't know where the shut off valve was so I ran down stairs to the security guard's room, woke him up, and shouted about a big problem with lots of water everywhere. When I got back up to my kitchen it was covered in water. (It's very clean now.) The water was spraying every thing and the floor was covered. The poor, tired security guard ran in and shut the water valve off then ran away while saying "there's water every where! Big problem! Big problem." I thought he was running away cause he just wanted to get back to sleep and not have to help me mop up all the water. He wasn't. Just as I had gotten about half the mess cleaned up he knocked on my door and told me to use the empty room next to me's bathroom and that he called the director. I started wondering how long I was going to have to wait to get my faucet fixed and my water back on... days? weeks??? I started dreading the daily cold hallway walk to the bathroom next door that wasn't heated but at least the water was.
End Act 1.

Act 2. Then at 9 am this morning I was awakened by a knock... as I usually am whenever I have 'surprise' guests, but I had been up until 1:30 am cleaning t mess so this time at least it was justified. There stood fix-it-man #1. He came in, looked at things, and then left. Then fix-it-man #1 brought fix-it-man #2 along with him. I thought to myself, I should have more disasters on Saturdays cause they'll get fixed super fast and without 10 people tromping around my apartment to 'help'! Help meaning look at all the different stuff the american has, even though i don't really have anything different than them, except my family pics displayed every where.
Fix-it-men #1 & 2 start working, then they decide it would be a good idea to turn the water on to see just exacly what the problem is... I stand by with towels. The next half hour is spent with them on cigarette break (and finding parts, i think the cig part only took 10 mins) and me cleaning up all the water from the kitchen.
End Act 2.

Beginning Act 3. They come back with parts and on-looker #1. Fortunately there was only 1 on-looker and he only stayed for Act 3 of the water drama. They work for about an hour, fixing and pondering and telling me about England...not sure why fix-it-man #2 decided to tell me about England, since he'd never been there. They make progress; I grade tests; on-looker #1 leaves. The water gets turned back on and lands only in the sink! Tada!
Then I point out the drip, drip, drip, drip...
End Act 3.

Begin Act 4. Water off again. Parts of faucet are completely taken apart, looked at, and determined fake. That's my problem, a fake faucet. Fix-it-man #2 decides this discovery warrents a 3rd cigarette break...it's bad news. I reteat to my other room to grade tests, hoping they'll come back and put my sink back together again, again.

*intermission*
(yeah, it's in the middle of an act, so what! It's to create suspense. Go make yourself a sandwich or something)

Welcome back. Fix-it-men #1 & 2 are back in action (and making my apartment smell like Uncle Jim, thus the title) faucet fixing. They have found a completely new-to-me faucet that is not fake (i hope) and are working on putting it together. After breaking a couple of parts and looking for replacement one there is .... SUCCESS! Hot water - check. Cold water- check. Drip, drip, drip - nope! All is well and done!
... well except for that bathroom light, but they say they'll get to that next week.
End Act 4.

Now I'm gonna go take a shower.

Long absences

It's been a few months since I've written. Sometimes it's a writing time, sometimes it's a reading time. I'm going through a reading time, but I figured I could give you a not-so-well-written update. In very important and very late news: My cat, Mila, had kittens on July 4th. Then she promptly ran away three months later leaving me with Lula. Lula, formerly known as Luke Skywalker, was the kitten I decided to keep so Mila would have some company. But seeing as Mila ran off a month ago and hasn't come back Lula is now my company... and my leg warmer for the winter.

In other news school has started. Not so exciting.

I went on an adventure through Albania (and Macedonia and Greece, but the goal was Albania). That was very exciting. It took 33 hours to get back from Albania... it was crazy and fun. Here comes some actual writing!
Four friends and I slept on a white pebble beach for three nights. During the day we swan in the Ionian Sea and watched the island of Corfu as it disappeared in the morning haze then re-appeared by lunch. There were no clocks or watches, few people drifted by, and we were left to our own laziness. Every night we had a fire to sit by until we got tired, walked to our sleeping bag ten meters away, and curled up for the night. The sun woke us up with a hot hello every morning. It was paradise. There were expansive mountains behind us and brush-forests leading up to them. The sky was blue and cloud spotted the entire time. At night, before the fire building, we would watch the clouds roll over the tops of the mountains like a slow ocean wave, decend a bit-almost threatening rain- then recede back to the windward side.
The ridiculous amount of manovering to get there and the 33 hours to get back was well worth it. There is no way I'm ever going to be able to get back there, and this time that is a beautiful feeling.

A quick thanks

So as most of you know I enjoy cooking. Recently I stumbled upon a great Thanksgiving-for-one. No, it's not anywhere near Thanksgiving. No, I didn't plan on eating a "Thanksgiving-ish" meal. It just kinda came together. Earlier this week I boiled a chicken (for some mole' a friend had given me.... ohhh mole') and saved the broth. I didn't have a whole bunch of mole' so there was a lot of chicken left. Enter: creativity.
A friend, who also loves to cook (http://parsnipsaplenty.com), came to visit a couple weeks ago and re-introduced me to polenta, it's like grits kinda. So as it came time for lunch and my stomach started to growl I thought to myself "What do I have to eat?" The following recipe will show you what transpired after this:

Chicken and Basil Polenta
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/4 cup milk
2 Tbs. fresh basil, finely chopped or 1 tsp. dried
pinch of sage
1/3 cup coarse yellow cornmeal/yellow grits/ качамак
salt and pepper to taste

Bring water and broth to boil. Add milk, basil, and sage then return to boil. Whisk in yellow corn meal and turn down heat to medium-low. Continue to whisk until very thick then remove from heat.

Now for the pseudo-Thanksgiving dressings! Heat up chicken or turkey (I just used part of the chicken I had boiled). Spoon polenta onto a plate put the chicken on top then sprinkle with dried cranberries, I really like Craisins with Orange Flavor(r). And that's it!

The Абиторински Бал

... or Prom on crack.

Last weekend I went to the Ball for the 12th graders. In my town in Bulgaria the 12th graders go on an excursion for a couple days with all their 12th grade class-mates from their high school. Then they have a Ball, or Prom, in town for all the graduates city-wide. I didn't get to go to the beach with them on the excursion, but I did make it to the Ball.
The students invite the teachers that they like to the Ball. The students all have custom-made dresses and suits and dress up very fancy for this occasion. It's one of the biggest events in town every year.
I showed up at 8 pm to the restaurant where the festivities were to take place. I was nervous and apprehensive... was my dress too nice? was it nice enough? would I be able to find my students? what other teachers were going to be there?
Shortly after entering I found the table where my colleagues were sitting. I knew all of them... thank goodness. I was not over-dressed and not under-dressed... fears relieved. I hadn't found my students yet, but I was sure that sitting with all the other teachers from my school would solve that issue shortly.
But as I did say before, this is no ordinary Prom... it's Prom on crack. They served a 5- course meal. There was music and dancing during, between, after, before, all the time. There were two different singers that came and went and a band and a DJ. My conservative American nature was not too shocked to find that alcohol was part of the menu (I'm becoming Bulgarianized). It does still surprise me when I see students drinking with their teachers though. All students are of age (which is 18 here), but still nothing I am used to seeing in the States.
So these reasons make for a crazy Prom but not quite a Prom on crack, just wait. So I arrived at 8 pm, by 10 pm we had spent two hours on our first course and the students had spend an hour and a half dancing with DJ music. Then the shirts came off.... literally. I don't know what song, I don't know why, but all the sudden over half the guy students in the room had their shirts off. I tried to hide my complete shock at this turn of events. Thankfully the shirts went back on after a couple of songs... I was worried. Then came the balloon popping, out of the blue someone would pop one balloon then 10 more pops would follow. This happened several times during the night. The table dancing was always a cause for concern. When students were particularly fond of a song one or two of them would get up on their table and sing along. This seemed to be monitored carefully by the table of observing teachers, because if the glasses on the table shook they all shot horrible looks to the student and told them to get down.
I did get to dance with my students and I loved that. It was really neat to be asked by the kids I had taught all year to come to the dance floor and do the dance circle (a very inter-cultural concept). I also got to talk to a few of them more as friends than as a teacher. I think it's a lot easier to make that transition here. Towns are small, friendships varied.
Around 1 am I was tired and ready to go home, as were two of my other colleagues. So we packed up and left just as the rest of the town was arriving. After a certain point in the evening, or rather early in the morning, anyone in town who wants to is welcome to join the festivities. A friend told me it went on 'til 5 or6 in the morning.
Overall it was a very fun and interesting experience. I was glad I went.

Field Trip

There's been a few little field trips in the past weeks and I feel like commenting on some of the language differences in the small country of Bulgaria. Keep in mind that Bulgaria is the same area as Tennessee but shaped more like a square than a rectangle. I could drive(if I were allowed to drive at all) from the Black Sea in the East to Western most point of Bulgaria in 7 hours (provided the roads were like interstate roads, which they're not, but just for comparison's sake we'll say they are).
I started in the Southwestern region, three hours south of my town, where I was taught the language made things a little difficult because I can't really tell the regional specifics there very well since that's what I learned. It was easy to tell that they talk slower than in my region and they don't enunciate quite as much. Next I went to the South central region, three hours southeast of my town, where my Bulgarian friends have told me they replace the letter "A" with "IA". The language was also much softer there than in my town as well and I was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that maybe my region had the harshest speech in Bulgaria. Then it was on to the Northeast, about three hours east of my town, where the differences were apparent from the second I set foot off the bus. Almost half of the population spoke Turkish, a language completely different from Bulgarian and unintelligible to me, and that rubbed off on their Bulgarian skills. Turkish is more fluid and less harsh than Bulgarian, therefore the Bulgarian spoken in that region was really slurred and not very harsh at all. They could understand me perfectly! I found out that my region is definetely the harshest speaking place in Bulgaria. Every "H" is said gutturally, every letter with staccato. When i say the word for bread, hle- ap, I have to spit out the "H" and "P" to be understood. Talking becomes a physical activity. With every word I have to use my whole upper body to provide the force for each consonant. Today I spent an hour with my tutor going over the different pronunciation for hour and o'clock, which are the same word with a different stress. I am usually understood, unless people can't get over the fact that I'm not Bulgarian, but now I'm trying to work on the specifics and I think I might retreat! Bulgarian's a harsh-sounding language to begin with and to add more harshness... well maybe it's not necessary.

So I was all over the place, but as I came back up to my town and walked home some magic happened.
I was carrying all my stuff, and almost to my door, as I started to notice the way the trees hung over the street, the sun shining through their fresh spring green leaves. The air smelled like pollen and must with a light flower scent wafting through some places. As I started to enjoy the moment I walked by the pine trees and notice that they had started growing. The new, vibrant green contrasted vaguely with the deep, rich growth from other years. I smiled and looked down to see the last tulips holding on to the chilly weather and the irises looking to the warm months to come. It was an amazing five minutes until I reached my door.

*I apologize, this blog should have been posted on May 10th but due to some Euro-American date digit swaps it thought it was to be posted on Oct 5th... the metric system isn't the only confusing difference.*

Велик Ден!

So it was velik den (which is the post title) or Easter last weekend. I promised a run-down of Bulgo-Easter events so here goes:
I ended up spending Easter in my town with a friend and her family. She told us all week that we were going to make traditional Easter bread, Kozonak, and dye eggs at some point before Sunday. But on Friday we weren't supposed to do any work all day because it was Good Friday, so we couldn't dye eggs or make bread then because that was work. So we saved all the fun for Saturday. All week long teachers at my school had been buying crates of eggs from the teachers with hens. They take egg dying seriously here. It's not just a dozen or so... it's about three to five dozen or more. Crazy! The coloring they use is also much more vibrant and works really well with the brown eggs. Saturday we all ended up at Dani's for the festivities. We started out by dying eggs. Sehee and I had received Easter Baskets from a friend in the states so we brought our ready-made American dye kits, which were quite unusual and well talked over. We had a glitter-egg kit which went over fantastically well. The table was spread with bowls of deep Bulgarian dyes, pastel American dyes, and glitter, oh and about 4 dozen eggs. Then they broke out the netting, onion peels, and leaves. Yes, in Bulgaria they wrap eggs in onion peels, flowers, leaves, and nets then stick them in panty hose and boil them. It's crazy! They make really pretty nature-looking designs. I was impressed. Of course, being Bulgarian and always prepared for guests to have all the fun, they had already boiled all the eggs for us so Dani, Dan, Ljudmil, Sehee, and I got to have all the fun of dying with none of the work :) No complaints. After we had dyed all the eggs Dani baffled me again, she poured oil in the dyes and started re-dying. It was crazy! In my family I guess we just stuck to the plain, old boring dye jobs but here they go all out. Dani showed us how to swirl the egg as we put it in the oiled dye and make tie-dye type patterns.
So when the eggs were finished all the non-Bulgos were wondering if it was time to eat (I guess that's just what we do in America and being 4 pm at that point my stomach was grumbling). But no, no more fun to come. Food takes last place. So we finished and decided we would inaugurate the first-annual Easter egg hunt for Dani's little cousin. They don't do Easter egg hunts here so it was a fun production and there was lots of cultural exchange happening (Peace Corps would be proud). After the Hunt we started to set up the grill, which was brand new and unused. Then we put together some Shish-Kebabs, cut some pork fillets, open packages of kufte (meatball-ish things) and kebapche (sausage-ish things) to grill as soon as the fire was ready. When we finally ate there was enough food for about 20 people, but there were only 10 of us. No matter how much we ate I kept hearing "oh the shish-kebabs are done, time to eat." Finally I just had to be a rude and say "there is no way any more food could possibly fit into my body. I will not eat for days after this. I have had my meat quota for about two years." Well maybe I didn't quite say all that, but I did have to stop eating, which was rude. So after all the food was cooked and some of it was eaten we realized it was 11.30 and we were going to be late for church. Oh, 11.30 pm.
So the biggest, and to me coolest, tradition they have here for Easter is walking around the church. Perhaps this sounds boring, but when there are over 500 people with candles circling in a small church courtyard three times led by three singing priests with a big cross and big candles, it's pretty cool. So besides some wax on my jacket it was awesome. After three go-rounds we all met outside, because of course we had all been separated, and started the "egg breaking" tradition. Now, no one had sufficiently explained the "egg breaking" tradition to me. I asked several times and got a general "We try to break each others eggs" response each time. So when I hear that to me that says "Break some eggs." So I was out to break some eggs. Little did I know the object wasn't to break eggs, but to gently tap the other persons egg and see if one broke. So as I smash the egg of Dani's uncle and see the look on his face I realize I had done something wrong. You can't win 'em all...
It was a great Easter, probably the best of my adult life.

One whole year...

I've been in Bulgaria for one whole year.
The past month has been crazy. I've been all over the place. We had a break at the end of March until the beginning of April, so me and a couple of friends decided to go to Greece. Actually I just hopped onto their plans. We went to Athens for 4 days and Thessaloníki for 4 days. Athens was perfect! Everywhere we went there were ancient ruins. It was warm and sunny and everything was green, which I wasn't expecting. I hear that it all turns brown in the summer cause it gets too hot. Spring time is the way to go. This is a picture of us in front of the Parthenon. They're doing some reconstruction so it's complete with cranes.

So while we were in Athens I got my hair cut by some guy that looked German but wasn't. He was one of those crazy 'Edward Scissor-Hands' types. There was hair flying everywhere and just when you thought he was done - BAM! - there goes some more. After all the hair was off and cleaned up he gave me a chic frizzy style and even though I don't much enjoy frizzy or chic hair I must say it didn't look too bad. I'm quite pleased with my new cut so here's a picture, even though you can't really see it well.

Along with the picture comes another story... the train or should I say the second train. We traveled by train the whole time so that we could walk around and such. Well the train ride from Athens to Thessaloníki was less than pleasing. First we're on the platform and we notice we're surrounded by high schoolers and while I like high schoolers, generally, I was on vacation and didn't want to see a single person of high school age. So finally the train gets there and we pile on and claim our seats. Then, just as I had hoisted my huge and heavy backpack up onto the luggage thing, all the high schoolers come piling on too... loud, obnoxious, and sitting all around us. I couldn't even talk to Amy and Sehee right across the aisle becauase #1 I couldn't see them through the wall of teenagers and #2 I couldn't hear anything but the roar of excited kids. So finally when it looked like they had all piled in and surrounded us a teacher comes up to us and says something in Greek... I don't speak Greek. Then she says (it was wonderful that pretty much everyone spoke English) "This car is for the children. You'll have to find somewhere else to sit. Sorry if they didn't tell you." At this point we saw other angry people standing in the corridor in the back and understood we weren't the only ousted, angry people. Then we spent 30 mins trying to get out of our seats because all the excited, hormone driven teenagers were standing in the aisle, the whole aisle, every single space. It was a wee bit frustrating as most of them were looking at us with this "Why are you in my space?" glare and yet none of them would budge to let us get out of their space. Believe me we both wanted the same thing. So when we finally got out of that noisy train car and realized that there were people everywhere and seats no where...
We set our stuff down in a hallway and I went to scout out the options while the girls stood guard. I found a perfect location: an empty playroom with some big soft blocks and a padded floor. So after I hit everyone with my bag while moving down the aisles, we relocated for a second time to the padded playroom. Everything was wonderful for about an hour. Just as I was falling asleep a train attendant came in and started talking in Greek. He quickly realized our ineptitude with this language and switched to English; we had to move. So after I tried to reason with the train attendant to no avail - there are no children, we paid for a ticket, we are as close a thing to children on this train besides the high school students who kicked us out of our seats- we moved to local 3: The hall right outside the playroom with a few other Greek people. About 10 mins later the same guy came by and told us to move, even though he didn't say anything to the playroom's new residents. So we went to local 4: the entryway. We left our stuff in the playroom because, after all, he couldn't yell at our baggage. Then 15 mins later he came back and told us to move again... not happy. At this point I went to check on my bags and noticed 4 Greeks sitting peacefully in the quiet and padded playroom as I was being moved to sit... where this time??? in front of the toilet. Yes, my 5th location was in front of the toilet. I guess he felt he had sufficeintly humiliated us and put us in our place because he left us alone after that. Sehee was keeping watch though and when he got off the train we all went back to the playroom for our final 2 or 3 hours of the train ride. Amy met a really nice Greek guy who accompanied us to the playroom and gave us a Greek history lesson for the rest of the ride. Now most of the Greek people we met were amazing (friendly, nice, helpful) not like Mr. Mean Train Attendant.
It rained everyday in Thessaloníki so we didn't do much sightseeing. But we did enjoy what we did do... and what was that you may ask? Eat, drink coffee, and dance. This is me with my BBQ cheddar burger... AMAZING! Sorry it's kinda covered up by the French's mustard (another treat). I also had a free refill coke light! This might sound crazy to you (I'm sure it does), but it was a wonderful treat for me and Amy. We also had fresh seafood and walked along the waterfront. If it hadn't been raining it would have been beautiful. We saw the White Tower, which used to be called the Bloody Tower but that scared away the tourists so they changed the name. We did lots of shopping as well. I have shoes that fit me and lots of sandals for summer! I also got that purple scarf/head wrap that I'm wearing in the picture. So overall the Greece trip was good. Great company, great scenery, great history.

I think I've written enough to make up for my silence the past month. :)

March: The Trickster Month

March is very tricky. It starts out nice then turns nasty. It seems like it'll be a short month, with a long holiday at the end, but turns out to be the true Longest Month and the holiday disappears. I can't believe it's only half over! I'd swear it's already April and my calendar lies, but unfortunately it doesn't. March looms on.
I believe it's Easter this weekend in the States. Happy Easter! They celebrate the Eastern Orthodox Easter here. It isn't until the end of April so you still have plenty of time to get those Easter packages off and here on time :) The eggs here are brown so we can't dye them and they don't have that fake plastic grass. There are some neat traditions here, that don't involve fake plastic grass or peeps, and I'm excited to learn about them.
This past weekend I went to two birthday parties, one for one of my Bulgarian students and the other for two of my PCV friends. It's funny to compare parties in each culture. At the Bulgarian party I went to Petia's , the birthday girl, apartment. Her parents had left for the evening and there were about 12 people there. The tables were spread with food. We sat there talking with the TV going and music playing for about four or five hours (or until the room filled with so much smoke that my eyes turned red and I started crying). Then afterwards they went to the disco; I went home. At the 'American' party, for lack of a better label, we went out to eat and stuffed ourselves with Indian food. Then we wanted to go sing karaoke, but it turns out there's only one place in Sofia to do that. We ended up at an Irish place to celebrate St. Patrick's Day early and played "pick out the ex-pat". This game is becoming more and more easy the longer I'm here. We would look at the other tables and guess if the people at them were Bulgarian or not. Very politically correct. Then we went back to the hostel and talked for a little while. Actually they weren't really too different. One was just closer to home and much smokier.

Almost

For three weeks the weather was... perfect! Sun shining to wake me up every morning. Temperatures in the sixties, or seventies even. For three weeks my clothes dried in hours instead of days. I woke up at 7:30 naturally. The temptation to go for a daily walk couldn't be resisted. My students were happier and less restless in class. And then yesterday the clouds came again. And today the temperature dropped rapid and steady until it settled around freezing.
Oh March! why did you bring the cold? They say it won't last that long and that it's not going to get much colder than this. I hope so! I was ready for spring.
To be fair, it's only March and the weather shouldn't be all that warm yet. It was only by freak chance that we had the 3 weeks of premature spring and I did enjoy them throughly. So I am grateful for the break from the cold and the preview of coming attractions that the end of February and beginning of March gave us.

Break it down

Today, as frequently happens, one of my co-workers brought lunch to school for whoever cared to join. I think this is one of my favorite things about my school and the teachers that I work with. Let me set the scene:
Simova brought in lutenitsa*, pork fat**, fried pork fat, pickled veggies, bread, and cheese. After she was done with classes she pulled out the white "it's time for lunch" table cloth and put it over the gold fringed red velvet "smoker's room" one. Plates of deep red homemade lutenitsa, bite-sized pickled cauliflower, carrots, peppers, and tomatoes, creamy white hunks of cheese, and salted (cheese-looking) pork fat decorated the table. (the first, and only time I ate the pig fat was when I mistook it for cheese... quite surprising!) She told me excitedly earlier that day that we'd drink Rakia*** after classes were over. I was looking forward to the hours of conversation about nothing important that, as always, ended in people getting excited and yelling at someone two feet away from them about how much eggs cost this week. I wasn't disappointed. It was fantastic.
Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have such a warm and open school. They accept me with open arms, look the other way when I do something culturally insensitive, and always include me in everything that is going on.
Emel sat on the other side of the table and translated anything she felt was important, a joke or new word. Simova and Galya flanked me and we made side comments when conversations rose to a roar. I haven't seen Costa in weeks and he looked so happy, with his cigarette in one hand and his hand other tucked under his arm. Venci got new glasses which were discussed extensively. And Sashka acted out her story of the week, then just acted silly for the amusement of all. Rainie was in and out, as usual, working on something- who knows what. Vacileva asked me if I could cook with pumpkin...
"Yes! of course. I love it."
"Well, I'll give you another then. What do you make with them?"
"Pie, bread, soup, curry..."
I don't think this had ever been heard. There was a definite gasp around the room. Then discussion of whether these things could be made with pumpkin or not and more importantly, would it taste good?
My classes ended a little before one and now, here it is almost four. Half the time I just sit back and think of how much I enjoy these, almost weekly, occurrences. Then someone will ask me, "What are you thinking? Why are you quiet?"


*lutenitsa is a tomato and bell pepper spread that is put on just about anything... think of it as the most amazing tomato sauce you've ever tasted.
**pork fat is eaten here like a meat. it's almost a delicacy... although I don't partake.
*** Rakia is the national drink of Bulgaria. It's made from fermented fruit that they can't eat during the summer. Today they asked me what kind of fruit we have in the US. I said in my state really only peaches and apples. Then they wanted to know what we did with all the left overs, since we don't have Rakia. I tried to explain that we have huge farms where these fruits are grown and then sent to different places to sell them. "Yes, but the trees in your yard. What do you do with all the extra fruit from them?" I wish I had fruit trees in my yard.
The differences just don't translate most of the time.

Listen

I love it when I can hear my food. The crackle of my egg-n-cheese sandwich hot from the pan. The gulp of my oatmeal as I stir in water. The sigh of my tea as the water starts to heat. I think that's why I liked Rice Crispys as a kid. They just sounded right; it made up for the lack of sparkling flavor.
Today after fixing my lunch I found myself warming my hands by the burner and laughed. It's now warmer outside than it is in my building. My apartment is about even with the outside temperature... lucky me. And I have to think February, you're not so bad.
The sun is out. It's around 50 degrees, at least for the rest of the week. I just got back from a one week conference to have all my students skip classes two days in a row. (You might think this is bad, but I look at it as a three day week and two days of lesson planning already done.) I'm not sick. I have a birthday celebration to go to this weekend in a even more beautiful city. Oh and I got to take a bath last week. I also swam in a pool, sat in a hot tub, and sweat in a sauna. It's amazing how big the little things in life are.

Winter Doldrums

I think I've hit the winter doldrums. Life is coasting along slowly... oh so slowly.
I'm sick, nothing major, just the flu.
The semester is wrapping up this week.
And those are about the only two things going on. It's not even very cold anymore. The snow is starting to melt. I still have to walk by piles of it on the sidewalks, but the paths and roads are dry. We've actually had several days in a row where it was above freezing. The sun has been shining and it's actually pleasant outside!
What is it about winter though?
Have you ever heard of 'summer doldrums'? Well I've never had 'summer doldrums' and I don't know anyone that has. But if I say 'Winter Doldrums' everyone understands. Time has seemingly stopped, in my head at least. Today I had a reminder that time is indeed marching on, towards spring(!!). I looked at the sky and thought I'd be rather early for my coffee date at 5:30. After all it was light outside and the sun was still in the sky. Then I took out my cell phone to check the time and I was already late. The days are getting longer, and noticeably so! Time is passing, so why doesn't it feel like it is?
Others before me warned me of this. From a compilation of evidence and statements I can deduce that the insipid feeling I'm having will last for about one month. (read: all the PCVs said February was the longest month filled with boredom, so I should get out the knitting now.) Luckily during February we're going to have a conference in a town known for mineral baths and ancient Roman ruins. This should make part of the month go faster... I hope. Plus there are only 28 days in this long month (which is actually the shortest month of the year). So logically this won't be the longest month at all, it will be the shortest month and it will bring with it spring in the month that follows. Really I think I've talked myself out of the winter doldrums at all. It's pointless to feel like you're having the longest month of the year during the shortest month of the year.

Conversions

Here are a few conversions I've been doing:
1) -27 degrees Celsius = -17 degrees Fahrenheit
That's the low for the day I came back to Bulgaria. Incidentally -13 C ( or 9 F) was the high.
2) 70 centimeters = 2.3 feet
That's the amount of snow that was on the ground when I got off the bus in my town. About 30 cm more fell within the next couple days to round it out to a full meter or 3.28 feet.
3) 31 points out of 100 = a C
On one of my English tests the average was a 36... so I had to try and pass more than the three kids who scored over 60 points. I ended up making a shifted bell curve where only half the class failed instead of 90%.
4) 2 radiators + 2 huge electric heaters = 55 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit
In my apartment... that's 4 heating devices and I can't even keep it above 60.
5) 6 days = 1 website
At least I hope it does! That's how much time my school has to come up with a website.
and my final calculation:
6) 1 cat = scars on hands, 10 degrees of extra warmth, waking up at 6 am to meows, and hours of entertainment.

I hope everyone had a great Christmas, a wonderful New Years, and a good start back to school, work, or just to the new year!