New year new ideas

Well it's been a while...

I'm still in the USA, and working through it (it's like i need culture rehab). I have a new job that I'm happy in, and I get to make my living helping others, which is pretty amazing (severe understatement). As for the disillusionment/ despondence I feel towards America, I think I may have found something to help (perhaps culture rehab? Nope, even better, sub-culture infusion!)
While wandering aimlessly around the internet I stumbled upon this blog, which introduced me to a new idea for a concept that I already practice in many ways. I'm already a simplist (think minimalist, but not quite down to two pairs of pants and two pairs of shoes), but I'd never heard of the tiny house movement. The more I read about it the more the lightbulbs start going off in my head.

American culture norm conflicts with me:
#1 Long-term contracts (phones, mortgages, etc). Which to me mean long term debt, inability to be mobile, upkeep, dependence on markets, reliance on/indebtedness to big banks or companies.
#2 Focusing on stuff more than people. Loss of relationships because of things or money, and choosing stuff over people. Building relationships solely around 'stuff': what you have, what you don't, what you buy, what you want... this seems to be rampant and openly accepted in the current American society.
#3 Having more than you need, or over-consumption, which I am fully guilty of but would like to rectify.
I could go on but I won't. The problem with spending more time living in foreign countries in the last ten years than you have in your 'home' country is that you no longer fit anywhere fully (and you're always missing people all over the world).

Tiny House sub-culture solutions:
#1 Long-term contracts. With a tiny house the mortgage (if you even need to get one) is 1/10th that of a 'regular' house and can be paid off quickly, thus no long-term mortgage only short-term. Perfect! Also you can build these things on wheels meaning you don't have to worry about selling if you need to move or what the market is doing. For now, I have no kids and I don't need much space. When I do need a bit more space and my parents are getting up in years I can use the tiny house for them, allowing for autonomy but keeping them close. That's one long-term contract I can't get out of.
#s 2 & 3 Focusing on stuff more than people. & Over-consumption. It's hard to have too much stuff when you don't have room to keep it. Less stuff means less focus on stuff and less consumption. Plus the overall footprint of the house will use less materials than most garages, and I'm going to try and use salvage materials to build it as much as possible.

So the tiny house answers my biggest housing qualms with typical America, but is it actually doable for me...
I'm not 100% sure that it is, but I really do want it to be.

Here are the reasons I think I can transition into tiny house living:
1- For four years I lived in about the same amount of space, or less actually, than the tiny houses i'm looking at (i'm looking at between 110 and 150 sq. ft. for my house). Now I only occupy about 100 sq.ft. of my available living space (shared), so spacewise it's a lateral move and one I'm already adjusted to.
2- I hate paying rent and having nothing to show for it. Bye-bye apartments and landlords.
3- I'm handy. Being my father's daughter, I've learned a lot about fixing things, home repairs, and upkeep. I would also like to build this tiny house myself, with help of course. And if you're wondering, yes, I have experience building houses. Now if my dad would only teach me how to build an engine I could make my dream car.
4- I thrive on challenge and wilt when it's easy. Easy bores me, challenge makes me strive to become better and adapt. Maybe it's my age, maybe it's the life I chose early on, but this is one quality that is consistent (that and my horrible spelling, I'm so glad no one sees the first draft of these things).
5- Introvert. I'm not a hermit, nor could I ever be one for long periods of time, but I sure do need short periods of time away from the world. Not only is a tiny house all my own (no roommates, which I will actually miss because I've had some amazing luck so far, but I've also heard some horror stories, the stuff nightmares are made of) but I can take it to the mountains or the beach and "get away from it all" when I'd like to. I wouldn't need a power or water source for a weekend trip, so I could be completely isolated if I wanted/needed to be.

These are some of the issues with a tiny house I've thought up so far (feel free to add to them or dispell them):
1- parking. I'll have to have a place with water and power to sit my home. It can't be too far from my workplace (I hate long commutes) and right now I work and live in a city. The only options I can see are begging for/renting a backyard (hello again landlord, grr), trailer park (not going to happen), or buying a lot (see reason #1 America and I disagree).
2- hosting, which hinges on 1. I love hosting people. If I don't find a space where I can do outdoor hosting then I'll be limited to inviting 2 people over at a time. That's about where I am right now with mymliving situation, but I'd love to have the capacity to host more.
3- hauling it. Am I going to have to buy a truck just to take this thing anywhere, or is it more feasible to rent one when I need it?
4- aren't I already different enough? This might just draw too much attention and make people more curious than I'd like. I love people, but I value privacy and alone time too.

The ideas of simplicity and minimalism are what appealed to me the most and I can start to adopt those without moving. So I have, and I'm starting to pare down. As all who know me come to realize, I change my mind and have a "brilliant, life-changing idea" about once every six months so we'll see if this one takes hold, many of them do (why do you think I lived overseas for five of the last ten years) and some of them don't (I never did go live off the land as a hermit). Let me know what you think about this idea and if you think it's brilliant or that I'm crazy!

America... land of the easy.

So I've been back in America for six months now and I'm still not sure how I feel about it.
At first it was wonderful. I went on a couple of shopping sprees to refresh my wardrobe after choosing from the same twenty pieces of clothing day-in and day-out for four years. The shopping euphoria wore off quickly as I remembered I never did like shopping, nor the bills that come with it. At least I had clothes to wear now though and more than three pairs of pants. After the consumer in me feasted the foodie in me really started to come to the table. I could now cook Thai food, eat Mexican everyday (if I wanted to), and find almost any ingredient my heart desired. I had "the world" at my fingertips except the things I really wanted, like sugar sweet just-from-the-tree mango, extra-wide rice noodles, fresh fluffy tamales, chipati, goat samosas spiced just right, olive oil so good you want to drink it, and tomatoes so delicious you eat only them for at least two meals a day. But alas you can get the tasteless poor-man's (or blind-man or ignorant-man) version of all of this right around the corner of wherever you happen to be in America. America the vast, America the fast, America the easy.

It's not that I hate the land of my birth. There are good things here. I love the diversity and the fact that we are a melting pot, or salad bowl depending on your school of thought. I love the opportunities provided for those who seek them. I love that you can get one-off versions of just about anything you've had anywhere in the world... but they just never seem to measure up. Maybe my memory paints a better picture, but I'm pretty sure that some countries do/make/grow specific things better than other countries.

America may "have it all" but that doesn't mean it has the best of it all. Vanuatu still holds my heart for beaches. Thailand has the sweetest, purest tasting fruit I've ever wrapped my lips around. East Africa has the brightest smiles and the most regal, awe-inspiring landscape I've ever laid my eyes on. Bulgaria has the best vegetables and quaintest villages I've had the privilege to garden in. Italy the best cappuccino and espresso. Brazil the best caparina. Mexico the most vibrant colors and colorful nightlife. All this is only my humble opinion and based on my limited experience.

I am young, a tempered idealist, and a fish-out-of-water. I feel uncomfortable anytime I am comfortable. Whenever life is easy it makes me uneasy. There is something in me that hates complacency and the strive to have more while forgetting those around us. I do have to admit though I strive to have more... rarely it's more money, usually it's more experience, more time, more love, more friends, more family, more quality time. I find that no matter how much of these things I have I always want more. I doubt that will ever stop...

Sorry if this meander through my mind has been a bit hard to follow.

Closing Services

We're still learning.
We always will be.
Hopefully.
Learners in a land full of information.
We seek understanding only to be...
misunderstood.
Listening is our best tool.
Few are adept. Few care to be.
I hope you are those who care, those who help,
those who share the need.

Change the cheat

Think you can't change the world? Think again.

Why do all my friends find cheating to be absurd and immoral?
Because someone along the way (or many people) told us that cheating hurt no one but ourselves. We believed them, we didn't cheat, and (if i may say so) we all have very successful lives and careers now. And we have gone on to teach the same 'no cheating' moral to our children, students, nephews, and nieces.

Why do almost all of my students find cheating to be not only acceptable but necessary?
Because the society reinforces that cheating isn't a bad thing. There is an echo throughout society that there is no harm in cheating; look at the successful businessmen, the politicians, the leaders. They all cheat or have cheated to get to their claws into the high rung they now hold.

The more I live here the more I'm disgusted by the corruption, the cheating, and the mindset about these two evils. From bus drivers to CEOs, cents to millions go missing daily.

The 'average man' seems to be despondent about corruptions on a large scale that affect them. They see no connection from large-scale corruption to their social reinforcement of cheating starting in grade school.
Sad. Tragic. Exasperating.

Books, Clubs, Motorcycles

I'm in a book club now. There aren't many book clubs in Bulgaria (read: this is the only one I've heard about in the entire country). I'm the youngest member and the only one, so far, who does not have children. We read everything from The Sound and the Fury to The Jannisary Tree (the former I recommend, the later I don't). Reading has always been one of my outlets and I've always enjoyed it but there's something about the book club that makes it better. While reading, I know I'll be able to ask questions and discuss the things I find interesting, or uninteresting, with a group of people who have different views and opinions but the same knowledge of the book (as long as we've all read it through *ahem*). So I recommend you all go start a book club!

In other news I'm thinking about buying a motorcycle. (Flood family comments/concerns here::)

W.E.

In my classes we've been doing a lot about creativity and imagination (since it's come to my attention that most children and young adults haven't been encouraged to do this in their academic careers here). Some of my students, no most of my students, amaze me with their vivid imaginations and their ease with the flow of words in a foreign language. For Halloween they wrote "scary" stories about everything from Dracula at a high school prom falling in love with a girl to the last Bulgarian non-mutant zombie trying to fend for his life in an old fortress. I also learned about the kind creatures in Cupcakeland that wanted to rescue young girls from the clutches of the most evil man in the universe and I had a couple young authors write intertwining stories that were complete on their own but intersected to form a complex and rich plot. I was so impressed and proud of my students enthusiasm for their work and their imagination!

Then came the upperclassmen... I asked them to create a holiday that was ridiculous, just complete nonsense. Either I failed with the topic or their imagination is far too hidden away by that age. There was one amazing spark that came out of this though. One of the girls started talking about holding a festival that all the teachers and students could come to that would have different booths and games and activities but that the students would plan it all and organize it, all the teachers and administrators had to do was show up. This might sound like a "normal" idea to those of you in the States who go to these things every year, but here it is not a tradition, nor is it even an occasional event. I've been to one such event here and it was at the "American High School" in country and it was planned by teachers and staff. To have a student even suggest having this type of event, and wanting to take responsibility to plan it, blew me away. When I asked her if she was serious about this or it was just an idea she said, "I would love to do this but we need a group of students, not just me. Would you help me see if we can get a group of students?"
Maybe I spoke too quickly about their imagination being gone, maybe it just takes up with more ambition.

Time turns

This weekend I went up to my old town, Byala Slatina, to pick up all the stuff I left there, and boy was there a lot. I stopped in town along the way and had breakfast with a good friend and took my time getting to Byala Slatina. As I drove through the misty mountains and caught glimpses of the changing leaves through the dense fog I could only think of how fortunate I am and how beautiful Bulgaria truly is.
This whole weekend reminded me of all the intricacies of Bulgarian village life that I miss living in the big city. Of course now I don't have to worry about getting fleas but I also miss out on the 4 hour 'visits' where everything is made-from-scratch. Getting to see both sides of the country, and getting to live both sides, is not something most people have the chance to do. I really love it.

Vacations Always End

After an awesome two month vacation traveling around Europe and the States I'm back in Bulgaria! Last week I moved into my new apartment and started my new job. The apartment is beautiful and pictures will be up soon (well as soon as I buy a digital camera). My new job is at a private school. I'm the "Native Speaker" and I teach English conversation to grades 8-12. So far I'm wholly impressed with the school and the new lifestyle.
This weekend was a 4-day weekend because of Bulgarian Independence Day. So after the first three days of school, we all got a relaxing four days so that we could go back to school for four more days before another rough weekend. The downside is that this is the ONLY holiday before December 24th. So I'm trying to make the most of it. I went to visit a few friends of mine on the other side of the country for the natural weekend, and then I came back ran some errands and enjoyed the last bits of warm, sunny weather.
Not a bad start to the school year.

RSFBP

On my 'farewell to Peace Corps' tour I've reached the western front...of Europe that is. We've been to Rome, Sienna, Florence, Bologna, and Paris so far on this stretch and have 2 more weeks to go. Without a doubt Rome has been the favorite, just in case anyone is wondering. It just feels like magic is in the air there. Sienna was an amazing town to slow down and rest in. Since Rome was so hectic and packed with things to do it was a nice change of pace to lounge in cafes and stroll around aimlessly. The scenery there was gorgeous too. The Tuscan country-side is breathtaking. Florence was way over rated... sorry to all those people out there that just loooove it but I don't. One less tourist in your way I guess. It had nice architecture, and lots of art, but overall I was unimpressed. The masses of tourists walking around in chaotic zigzags with maps in one hand and gellato in the other, the massive lines for any and all museums, and the serious lack of outdoor cafes lessened my regard for it instantly. Plus it was hot. Real, real hot. I don't do well in extensive stretches of heat and 4-days is my max. Bologna was a quick stop over. Since we weren't expecting anything much from the city we were pleasantly surprised by it. It had a pretty center, with interesting architecture and lots of wide, shaded sidewalks. Basically it was a good shopping and eating town, so we did both and it worked out well.
We felt like we were on the Amazing Race trying to get to Paris though. It was ridiculous. People were pushing, shoving, cutting, and even elbowing us the whole way there...perhaps cheap airlines and the metro are not the way to travel. Once we got to Paris everything leveled out though. It's beautiful, but not quite as magical as it's portrayed to be (at least in my opinion). This is probably another one of those Florence things though, and I'll just say if you find Paris magical and wonderful I'm very happy you do but I'll be one less person in line for the Eiffel Tower the next time you visit. Speaking of the Eiffel Tower we almost saw someone commit suicide off of it. Just as we arrived to check out the line we saw a man with a helmet and lots of gear scaling the outside of the first level up then noticed him wrapping a rope around a person who was also standing out on the ledge with him who appeared to be a fanny-pack tourist (there was an actual fanny pack involved). We were wondering whether they were going to bungee or base jump so we stopped and watched. Then we noticed the heavily armed (i'm talking AK-47s) military and policemen standing along a roped off area at the base of the Tower. When the would-be jumper finally got talked down and climbed back off the ledge over the fence we realized what had been going on. It was crazy (and completely not covered by the media)!

Summer Sizzles

Today we had an adventure. Since we had two extra days in Budapest we decided to take a day trip- to Vienna. We took a train there and had no idea what to see or do. So after randomly finding the most famous church we headed down to the opera house, saw the parliament, got tired touring the fine art museum, then headed to a huge palace and gardens. The day was amazing. It was near perfect, in fact my cousin decided to say that it was the “perfect day” without knocking on wood. Big mistake. So after a wonderful sit at a café we headed to catch the 5.50 train back to Budapest. We get to the train station and find our train with 5 minutes to spare. Then I heard some girls speaking Bulgarian and I decided to chat with them. After a few seconds of chit-chat they said, “Oh good, we’re all going to Germany!” and I said, “Uh, no we’re going to Budapest…wait. Where does this train go?” And then we discovered we were on the wrong train. So we jump off with stuff in hands and 2 minutes until our train leaves. Luckily (or perhaps not so luckily) the Budapest train was right across from ours. So we ran into it and sighed, just then a man came up to us and kicked us off the train and told us to go further up. So we walked two or three cars up the train and got in again. Feeling very secure in our situation we actually sat down… then two boys ran through the train yelling something ending in “get off the train” in German. I caught their frantic spirit and rushed to get off the train, Chloe trailing behind me very confused until another man got on the train and said, “Follow me to Budapest!” This made us laugh and we followed. Then we realized that the train we were supposed to be on was in front/behind the train we had been on before and we had one minute to run to it. Finally we got on the right train and found seats and breathed a deep breath and went to take out the train tickets… which were nowhere to be found. As I tell Chloe that I can’t find our tickets she says, “Ha ha, good joke.” Then as I start to freak out she realizes it’s not a joke. After discussion of who will stay on the train, who will keep the bags, how much time we have, what we will do if we can’t find these tickets, and so forth we both get off the train. We decide the tickets must be somewhere on the second train we mistakenly got on, because I remembered grabbing them off the first. We run back to the train and it’s locked, but there was a conductor there who, after a brief explanation, unlocked it and let us look. We looked up, we looked down, we looked side-to-side, we looked back to front then front to back, we split up to look… then a worker found me and said I had to get off the train because it was leaving for maintenance in a couple minutes. Chloe was nowhere to be seen. As the guy asked me if I found the tickets I jumped off the train and shouted, “No! and my friend’s still on the train!” We ran down the train looking in the windows and finally found Chloe and motioned to her to get off the train right then. After reconnecting and realizing neither of us had found the tickets we resigned ourselves to buy new ones, and just as we did another workman (that bring the total number of workmen helping/following us up to 4) started walking towards us with something in his hand. Then he held them up and ta-da! It was our tickets. The man received his daily allotment of hugs in the five seconds following. We were so relived and happy, and then realized our train had left. Luckily the next train was only an hour later…and 20 degrees hotter with no a/c. But we have finally arrived at our hotel safe, sound, and full of adventure.

Busy like a bee

The new group has arrived and it's really interesting to see everything through their eyes just as I'm wrapping up. I can't believe how busy I've been. With the new group's arrival, the 12th graders prom/excursion, finishing up teaching, getting grades together, and all the final Peace Corps stuff that has be done to finish there hasn't been a spare moment. It's so different from my normal pace of life here. I don't think I'll be able to survive living in the States. So for that reason I'm going to stay here.
Just kidding.
But I am looking for jobs here, so that part is serious.
I have an interview with a private school later on this month. If you are wondering why in the world I'd want to stay here instead of coming to the land of the super-size there are many reasons. I've gotten used to living here. I love the fresh fruits and veggies, in season. I like the pace of life and the hours spent in cafes. I love the fact that I don't need a car. Then there are the more substantial reasons: the friends I've made over the last 2 years and the fact that re-adjustment scares me so when I do it I only want to do it once. Hopefully a job will pan out and I'll be able to stay here until I feel like it's time to come back to the states.

Other than that excitement I'm planning a 5-week extravaganza across Europe, which I'm super excited about! I'll be home for most of the month of August no matter what. I'll try to keep y'all updated on the job situation.

A fresh end, a new finish

I've been very slack about blogging so far this year. Since I only have three more months to share my experiences in Bulgaria with you I am going to make an attempt to blog every other week. I'm hoping I can follow through on this. So here's the first of the final installments:

Daily life here has become easier over the last two years. I no longer fear going to the grocery store or bumping into someone I'm supposed to know. The language comes easier, for the most part. The rhythm of life no longer seems foreign. And here I am about to leave and go back to a place where everything that was once so familiar will be foreign. It makes me think about staying... and then I think about the winter.
Leaving will be hard.

Today I wrote up an evaluation of my site and work situation. One of the questions just said "Electricity/Water Regime". Here is my answer:
"In the summer the water shuts off at least one day a week for the whole day. The longest it shut off was 5 days in a row, but in that span there was water for one hour every other night. In the winter it shut off less frequently, maybe once every other week. There's supposedly a radio broadcast saying when it will be shut off but I didn't know the station so I just kept two 11 liter jugs filled with water.
The electricity was pretty reliable. It went out in storms and sometimes for no reason at all, but it would usually come back on in a few hours."
It took me time to realize this wasn't normal, for you at least. Most of my friends in Bulgaria live in towns where their water shuts off almost daily during the summer and only runs for a few hours each night. So to me, I'm lucky.

There were two other answers that surprised me when I put them into words. "How strongly would you recommend your replacement by a new Volunteer?"
I feel like there is a lot of work that can still be done. The teachers are very open and receptive to new ideas... It amazes me the opinions that are stated as facts that no one questions. When I do question these 'facts' my colleagues and students are open to discussion, but have never considered that just because something was their opinion didn't make it fact. To continue this open dialogue another 'outsider' has to be brought in, because the 'insiders' are not given as much freedom of opinion or latitude for disagreement. My community was always supportive of me even when we disagreed. I'm afraid that if I'm not replaced all of the new ideas and opinions that have been introduced will be forgotten and everything will go back to the way it was before."
I have never been able to put into words my fears about leaving, but I think that's my biggest one. That I will not have made a lasting change.

The other question that I had never put into words before was:
"Do you feel that you have been successful in your assignment? Please explain."
"Yes and no. There is that which is possible and that which I desired to accomplish.
I think as far as what is possible- yes, I was successful. I integrated, made friends, shared ideas, exchanged cultures, taught students, and helped the students who desired to learn more learn.
What I desired to accomplish was far more difficult to measure and much harder to obtain. I wanted to change the mindset that racism is right, or even ok. That, I failed at. I hope that I may have made a few people start thinking a little more about a little differently though.

I know most people don't want to read the answers to my paperwork, but I figured just maybe it would help you see where I really am, what I'm thinking about, and how (even though I'm really looking forward to it) coming back to the USA is going to be difficult.

Podcasts...or Friends?

Today I discovered Podcasts have replaced friends for me. While this may sound pathetic or odd, it works. In October my closest friend here moved to London. Which might seem insignificant to most people who have a network of friends, but here in Byala Slatina I have very few friends and this friend was the glue. She made sure we all got together at least once a week and she was also the one that always had time to hang out, go to cafe, pick apricots, or do nothing. It took me a while to realize just how much she had affected my time here. November and December were busy months full of guests, occasions, and vacations. So the gaping hole in my social life wasn't really felt until January when I returned from winter break in Rome to the bleak cold of home. By mid-January it was evident: I had little or no social life.
And life took a turn in this meandering adventure, if I can even call it that now. Other than weekly outings to my fellow PCV's apartment in town I went weeks without seeing any friends outside of work. Sitting in my moderately cold apartment not wanting to walk to the center in the freezing cold dark (which was anytime past 4:30) I realized I hadn't left my apartment except for work in over a two weeks. This is a sad story, there have to be a few.
Fortunately I re-discovered Podcasts. Now I listen and laugh along with those crazy Tapit Brothers on Car Talk. I postulate on the situation of the world with my personal correspondents on The Economist, BBC Global News, The New Yorker, and (my personal favorite) Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me. But sometimes I just relax, forgetting that I'm not in the studio with Jad and Robert, and ponder the scientific wonders introduced to me on Radio Lab. Yes, these are my pinch hitters, my friends in time of need, the people whom I don't even know and yet end up laughing with for hours on end wishing that I could look them in the eye after an especially good punch line. But I can't.
All I can say is that I'm glad to have found company for dinner that eats nothing at all and never complains if I haven't cleaned. To invite a whole cast into my home and then kick them out at whim, never having to apologize or feel bad is quite enticing. Not that I'm thinking of not having friends anymore, but it's tempting.

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.