My Mountains

I try to remember that these mountains are beauty and strength and economy here. I try not to feel trapped, locked in, suffocated by them. Days like today remind me of the wonder and imagination of the Creator! I wish I could have captured the scent of the mountains and the purity of the air. I wish my camera could truly show you the beauty of my mountains! 

Dobarsko

What can I say besides amazing? This was taken in the mountains above Dobarsko, the village of one of my students. 

Quiet Saturday

Ah Saturdays.  I love them.  I am for once excited for a relatively quiet weekend.  I’ve decided that only very important events will require me to spend the night any where other than my own flat through these winter months.  Last weekend I spent one night away and it took several days to reheat my flat.  This huge metal rectangle that know lives in my living room sucks up so much electricity that I should only run it at night, when it is cheaper.  The next day it “radiates” the heat all day.  It’s working alright.  Of course, winter hasn’t fully hit yet.  Well, yes, there is frost every morning.  And yes, we have had snow already.  Of course, the mountains that bind me in are all capped in white.  But, like the babi love to remind me, winter brings snow up to here and it gets to negative 20 (that’s usually somewhere around there knees, and C).  

My quiet weekend needs my attention.  Two other PCVs will stay with me tonight, and we will visit a PCV in a nearby town.  Tomorrow, I will go to the village of one of my students.  She has invited the class to her village for food and I don’t know what all.  I’m just so excited that they asked, and were excited when I said I’d come!  

Sorry for a random blog…  Have a great whatever!

Razlogshki Ingenuity

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this to anyone, but it is cold in Razlog.  People here are wearing their leather jackets and all the roofs have smoke pouring from chimneys... except mine. 
 
I have one of those huge heaters they call "radiators."  The kind that plug into a special contact and look like a big metal storage chest full of bricks, I guess.  It has been in my bedroom.  I only sleep, dress, and do my hair and make up in my bedroom.  That is not very much awake time.  In my other room I cook, work, read, write, study, and watch TV.  It just makes SENSE to put the heater in here. 
 
So my landlord (Stephan) wanted an electrician to come over and look at the contact in the big room.  Three weeks later, our tech teacher came over, said all is peachy.  He sent a couple of miesters (sp??) over to move the incredibly heavy thing.  They came over and brought my dyado landlord up.  Dyado Lachinov says this heater can't heat up the big room.  It heats up the little room quite nicely, but the big room is too cold.  Diana, their last renter, only heated the small bedroom and spent all her time in there, or sleeping downstairs in baba's room.  That's what I should do too.  HUH?
 
Well, I went to school and told the tech teacher what happened and he scolded me for letting them not move it.  Then he and my counterpart had a five-minute private council.  Oh, by the way, yesterday, after the miestri left, they came back with this ghetto scary space heater.  It did a decent job of heating my big room as long as it was constantly going.  How can this big heater not heat my room?  I may have to turn it on a bit early, or let it run a bit past "cheap hours," but...  ah! 
 
SO...  I ran into my director who firmly insisted that I should not be argued with.  She'll send the miestri back over and they will move it!  I had first period today, and no more classes till 5th.  So the miestri came over after first.  It became a family affair.  Baba Zorka came up and helped me move all of the rugs around.  Stephan moved some of the furniture.  The miestri came in with four short pieces of big metal piping and a long wooden dowel.  They proceeded to use the dowel as a lever and put the metal pipe pieces under the heater.  They managed to roll that monster into the big room, turn it around, and put it against the wall. 
 
Then they left.  My flat was a mess!  Pieces of the wall on the floor, furniture all over both rooms, carpets all pulled back.  So I swept the floor, drug the wooden storage chest to the place the heater had been, and put back all of my carpets.  I'm not sure where to put my armchair, so I'm sitting in it, in the middle of my big room. 
 
Today, I am one step closer to being warm!!

Still Avoiding Work

Still avoiding work…

For fear that some one might stop by my blog and not read Vassi’s great words from a comment, I’m putting some of them out here.  It’s okay to just relax into that…  Darling, I don’t suppose there is any earthly way you could know how aptly your words have been timed!  

Regardless of what happens, don't ever forget that...you're beautiful, no matter what...you're divine, no matter what...and you're perfectly loved, no matter what. You are always held, like a baby, by the Lover of all. It's okay to just relax into that sometimes and let go of everything else outside of you.

I had a bit of a revelation today.

I’ve been looking for a sense of security.  I’ve been searching for safety.  I’ve been longing for promises that can’t be kept.  I’ve been asking questions that can’t be answered.  My theme this summer was to be full in my solitude.  This fall I have been trying to love the questions.  They’ve been Rilke kind of days.  This loving the questions thing, I almost had it down.  Then more questions came up.  Well, isn’t that nice!  

Have you ever felt so intensely in one moment that you are sure nothing could make you doubt those feelings are right and pure and good?  Have you ever had that intensity so abruptly shifted, as if one thing that supported your weight disappeared into thin air and you fall a million miles in one second?  You fall into that deep abyss of questions and fears and worries and insecurities?  You’ve lost the ability to love the distances (another Rilke allusion, see July 13th post for quote).  The distance is the fear?  The abyss is the insecurity?  I’m sure you’ve been there.  

I was there recently.  It hurt so badly and so deeply.  Of course, it started me on an intense journey of questioning.  Why do I need to feel safe?  What will it take to make me feel safe?  Why don’t I feel safe already?  What exactly will provide this security I desire?  It took about 36 hours, maybe less.  I was typing an email expressing my fears and I realized, “Why am I telling you this?  What do I expect you to do for me?”  Oh, I felt like a fool.  The answer had been sitting in front of me.  Had someone else come to me with my own heart, it would not take more than one second to think and say, “You are looking to all the wrong sources for your safety and security.  Don’t you know you can never find the security you desire except through the love of God?  Only God will keep you safe.”  
It is funny how you offer advice to people, and believe it with all of your heart.  But when you need to hear it, you think up a thousand other things to occupy your mind with worry so that you won’t get to the issue.  Well, I got to the issue today.  I’m looking for security and safety in the wrong sources.  I would have thought, after my summer of learning to be alone, and my fall of loving questions, I could start this winter feeling safe, held, and warmed in the hands of God.  

There are no promises in life.  I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know that the keeper of the world is also the keeper of my destiny and the safety of his plans may include seasons of love, pain, beauty, and loneliness.  But my season is no more than a line in the story of my life, important and possibly altering all lines that follow, but not that large.  I must remind my soul that it is only one line, and the story…  the story has a great ending…

Psalm 42: 5 – Why are you depressed, O my soul?  Why are you upset?  Wait for God!  For I will again give thanks to my God for his saving intervention.  (NET)

I was a bit bored tonight so I started looking at my pictures. Last time I was in Krichim, I made hot fudge pudding cake. My Krichim-cousin Berin helped, that's her on the left. My host sister laughed and made me wear an apron because she says I can't cook. So, it overflowed a bit because I didn't have a proper cake pan, but it was VERY yummy! 

Maegen Endert's List of Failures, Summer '05

Summer Project Report ‘05
Maegen Endert’s List of Failures, Summer ‘05
How to have a crummy summer

As presented to the TEFL staff of US PC Bulgaria, enjoy…

     It had been my intention to assess the needs and desires of my school and community before developing any type of project.  My hope was, at the least, I would be able to teach over the summer.  After arriving in Razlog, my counterpart and I began discussing projects that I could be involved in over the summer.  Over the course of the summer several ideas were discussed; some even began.  However, nothing seemed to work out.  These “failures” have been vital in my education on the culture and climate of my community.  I use the term failure loosely here, because I have failed to produce a reportable project, but I have not failed to use my summer as completely as I could.  These words are the story of my summer…

     It had been determined that my task should be to search online for cultural exchange projects in which the research had been completed and our school could become involved.  The goal of these projects was to obtain moneys in order to purchase books.  For several days I was asked to work on this task in the computer lab at school.  I quickly determined that with out the help of interested students, this is not a feasible project.  Furthermore, I assessed that this is not a project that can be completed in one summer.  

     The director of my school, Mrs. Mariana Popodina, suggested that I begin teaching English to the teachers.  I informed her that I would very much like to be teaching and would begin as soon as she wanted.  As I was at school daily, I began to talk about this class with the teachers on duty.  Some seemed eager to learn English, but when asked when they could have class, they would not give me a convenient time or day.  Others indicated they had not been made aware of this class.  The director informed me in mid-August that she would like for me to begin teaching on September 1, 2005.  This class was canceled however, due to the hectic nature of this time of year.  

     In July, my counterpart decided that I should design a website.  Because of communication difficulties between us, I was not clear if she wanted an English Department site, or a site for the school.  She did not know if the school already had a site.  I inquired as to which students she had in mind for such a project.  She said there are some students from her class who have quite advanced computer skills and had scheduled a meeting with them.  At this meeting were two boys from the 10th class.  It was conducted entirely in Bulgarian and lasted about ten minutes.  When I noticed the meeting was wrapping up, I asked what was going on.  I was informed that these boys would work on the website.  I asked if they would be coming to school so we could work on it together.  The plan was that the boys would work on it together in their homes.  I would later help with translation.  After two weeks, I asked Yulia, my counterpart, how they are doing.  She informed me that the boys did not have a program with which to design this site.  I told her that if we could use the school’s computer lab it would not be a problem.  She did not think that was a feasible option.  At the end of the summer Yulia informed me that one of the two boys had worked very hard on a website and was quite angry at her for “abandoning him.”  
     Outside of school, I’m afraid my limited contacts here inhibited my community involvement.  Through the wife of my landlord, I met the counterpart of Chad Dahlman, one of the two other PCVs in Razlog.  Chad works for a non-profit business center.  I stopped by there several times to use the internet and always offered my help in whatever way possible to his counterpart.  I was told, as it is summer, the students that normally come in to use the English language programs would be quite difficult to organize.  Harmonie Bettenhausen, Chad’s wife and a YD PCV, was also quite busy all summer.  She welcomed my involvement in her programs once school started, but through the summer she would not be working that much with them either.  My counterpart, Yulia, while quite familiar with Razlog and the school, has only lived here a bit over a year.  While I did not see the significance of this at first, after living in Bulgaria, and particularly Razlog, the importance of making “connections” has become increasingly clear.  
     It seems that most of the problems I encountered this summer were a compilation of poor communication and a lack of follow through.  I feared being annoying, so I perhaps allowed spans of time too large between my inquiries, or simply asked too infrequently.  My counterpart, on the other hand, was suffering under a huge burden of stress that she only shared with my once school had started.  At the end of the long weekend we recently had, she appeared quite tired and stressed.  When I asked about her weekend and time spent with her family, Yulia informed me that her father is dying from a cancer that has metastasized and is poisoning most of his vital organs.  This would explain why she had been so distant and, in my perception, unreliable through out the summer.  
     Now that summer is over and school has begun, I am able to reflect on the summer, on what I wish had gone differently, and what I might do differently now.  I am becoming increasingly aware of the role my school would like for me to play.  At this point, it seems they are grateful for my ability to speak English with their students, but all of the teachers are very busy and quite reluctant to give up any of their time to help me.  I wish I had known earlier that I would have to “plow my own road” here.  Although I do not know if that knowledge would have had a very large impact on my “success” this summer, as my connections and Bulgarian language ability were, and still are, not good enough to integrate into this community entirely on my own.  Although I am still utterly confused as to how to go about effectively communicating my professional ideas and requesting help, I have learned my “southern sensibilities,” a.k.a. politeness, or without the euphemism, vagueness is not the answer.  My fear is that in this “high context culture” I will over step my bounds in my need to communicate, be understood, and seek help, thereby loosing my respectability as an educator.   Now that I am in the classroom and working with my students, I can begin to gauge their needs, not only linguistically, but also in this community, a vital aspect as they will play a vital role in the future of this nation.  

Avoiding Work with a Post

It’s lazy Sundays like today that I miss some of the comforts of the States.  I walked out of the bathroom with cold hands because I forgot to turn on my hot water heater last night.  Because of my negligence, I don’t have enough hot water to take a shower today.  Even though my hair is clean enough to go out, I don’t think I will.  Somewhere between the bathroom and the not so cozy armchair (which is not very far), I realized I am quite hungry.  It is 1:30 after all, and all I’ve had to eat today was a piece of coffee cake that my landlady brought over.  Not five minutes after I rolled out of bed she was knocking at my door inviting me over for coffee. (She must have been listening for my toilet to flush)  Lady, I’m still in my pajamas here, let alone still with yucky sticky morning teeth.  She brought coffee to my flat, as her boys are still asleep.  

So yeah, I’m still hungry and missing comforts.  In my hunger and laziness I wish for a frozen Sam’s Club lasagna that I could throw into the oven. Or, even better, the ability to, in my “just rolled out of bed,” undressed, unbrushed, pajamas and toe-socks state, hop in my Jeep and run down to Taco Bell for the afternoon breakfast of champions.  Breakfast, only because it’s the first meal of the day, even though it is afternoon and clearly NOT breakfast food.  It gets tiring to make breakfast from scratch, although I can make killer apple pancakes (talk about work!!).   In my coldness I wish for a heater that worked and more winter clothes.  In my loneliness I wish that my most meaningful English language conversations weren’t delayed and confused by my ability to punch this keyboard.  

But on the bright side…  

…It’s not raining today!  It rained ALL DAY yesterday.  It really started to pour around 7pm.  I’m not sure when it began, but I noticed around 8:30 that I had a nasty leak in my ceiling.  I informed my landlady right away.  Of course, I don’t know how to say, “My ceiling is leaking” in Bulgarian.  I go over and say, “I have a problem.”  Lili, my landlady, looks at me with great concern.  I point to the ceiling and say, “Water.”  Profound.  I’m back to communicating like a two year old.  Fabulous.  today.  no water. sun.  better. me like.  

…The boring weekend is almost over and tomorrow I can go back to school and both deal with and love the chaos that is my school.  I have a blast in my classes.  I’m still not sure where I fit in, in my school, among my English teacher colleagues, in this town.  The only thing I do know is that I belong in that classroom.  I still don’t know exactly what it is I’m supposed to be teaching these kids.  For now, that does not matter.  Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.  

…My face looks a bit better today.  I went for a “facial” yesterday.  Now, I’ve never had a facial before, neither Bulgarian nor American.  I suppose if I took better care of my skin and went more regularly, I’d be a bit better off today.  I’ll tell you what, that hurt.  I was expecting massages and cucumbers and masques.  Well, you might could call that a massage, and I sure did get a masque (you wanna talk about tight!).  Never in my life, have I…  Even though my face looked like radioactive minefield yesterday, it felt really fresh and clean.  So I’ll probably go back next month.  What can I say?  I’m a glutton for punishment, always have been, right ma?  

Well, I’m going to go back to work on my Summer Project Report, or as I like to call it, “How to Have a Crummy Summer,” or “Maegen’s List of Failures.”  Maybe I’ll post that later.