A Glossary of Southern Accents
In my love of dialects, when I happened upon this site (thanks Carin) I just HAD to post it. The author makes the very good point that speaking in a dialect does not indicate ignorance of standard rules of grammar, but an adherance to an extra set. So in a way, we dialectual speakers are dually linguistically talented!
Cheers to dialects, banski, razlogshki, southern, northern, great lakes, whatevs!
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Friday, June 23, 2006
Cheers to Personal Evolution!
I had the very great pleasure of organizing a girls' weekend recently. I love these weekends for many reasons including but not limited to: an excuse to pamper myself a bit, the fabulous company of friends, the opportunity to make new friends, good times at the disco, a nice hotel bed for not too many leva. So, my favorite of those reasons is either the disco or the new friends. I invited every woman in my group of B17s (some 20+ ladies). There were 11 of us in Blagoevgrad. I love these chances to break up from our comfortable groups (not cliques, we're not that bad) and make some new relationships.
I made a special effort to invite one person because I don't really know her and because I (with some help) recently made her feel very uncomfortable and I felt bad. Am I glad she came! We had fun and I got the chance to see a person without the shading of previous ideas.
One thing about Peace Corps is that stagnancy is not very prominent. People come and go constantly. We make friends from our group, groups before us, groups after us. They go home and leave us in tears. For some of us our best friendships get torn in two and suddenly our "group" is dissolved. Some of us have groups that have dwindled to nothing. Some people made friendships that either burnt bridges or caused bridges to never get built in the first place. I'm proud of people who step up and make new relationships rather than dwelling in the one of two that are left. I am surely grateful for the evolution of my friendships. Since I've been in PC Bulgaria I have gained and lost friends, but all the while learning and growing. I guess that's what it really is all about.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Special Day!
The daily poem from About.com today is "Ode on a Grecian Urn" by John Keats. I love this poem.
"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard/ Are sweeter" I love this line. Why are unheard melodies sweeter? Because they are what you want them to be. Your memory of the song, the picture, the event can be better than the reality of it because it is yourse to recreate. That's the beauty of the Romantics.
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
I also love the last five lines of this poem. It seems the speaker is telling us the beauty of these images will remain regardless of how the problems of the world grow, despite how we change, that beauty is forever ingrained in time. The idea that beauty is in our memory is contrasted with the permanence of beauty. Is beauty in the eye of the beholder? Or is beauty truth? What then is truth? Hmmm lovely questions to help you implode your own head! Ah the beauty of poetry.
"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard/ Are sweeter" I love this line. Why are unheard melodies sweeter? Because they are what you want them to be. Your memory of the song, the picture, the event can be better than the reality of it because it is yourse to recreate. That's the beauty of the Romantics.
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
I also love the last five lines of this poem. It seems the speaker is telling us the beauty of these images will remain regardless of how the problems of the world grow, despite how we change, that beauty is forever ingrained in time. The idea that beauty is in our memory is contrasted with the permanence of beauty. Is beauty in the eye of the beholder? Or is beauty truth? What then is truth? Hmmm lovely questions to help you implode your own head! Ah the beauty of poetry.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
what a cutie!
I just want to remind everyone what an adorible little thing my little sis is! Hey laynie, that first pic with the bunch of you standing in a line at the parthanon? I stand just like that too, like i'm about to fall forward.
I went to the gym for the first time since SEPTEMBER!! That was yesterday. I'm so sore tonight. I'm afraid of how sore I'll be tomorrow!
I went to the gym for the first time since SEPTEMBER!! That was yesterday. I'm so sore tonight. I'm afraid of how sore I'll be tomorrow!
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Yahoo! Photos - luciachan03's Photos - IMG_0081
Yahoo! Photos - luciachan03's Photos - greasy kiss link to the afore mentioned greasy kiss by a Swiss rugby player.
Yahoo! Photos - luciachan03's Photos - Maegen and Chris Adventures in Sofia
Yahoo! Photos - luciachan03's Photos - Maegen and Chris Adventures in Sofia One time Maegen (who was very sick and tired) met Lucia (who was very sad) in Sofia. To make each other feel better they bought a balloon bunny, named it Chris, and captured their adventures with him on digital eternity. enjoy
A little excursion...
I went on a bit of an excursion with Yulia's class of 5th graders, another 5th grade class, and a class of 6th graders. We visited Rupite, which was were a fortune teller lived and had a church constructed. This is the bell tower which is a seperate building
This is the church at Rupite. The art work at the church is incredibly unique. Normally the front of an orthodox church has icons of the 12 disciples- of their bust only. This church had 6 huge icons in front, two of which were women. I bought a postcard of the inside (since you can't take pics), so maybe I'll scan that and post it someday.
There are hot spring pools at Rupite as well. It is posted that the tempurature is 75 degrees Celsius. It felt pretty warm, but I don't know if it was 75C. It was pretty neat looking as the wind blew the steam across the grass. 
Learning to teach is FUN!
This is me, Lucia, and Jessie at the USAID training event we went to in Sofia. I had the chance to get to know Jessie and we had an extra good time! Plus the good food didn't hurt!
At this very good training event, I had the chance to catch up with my pal Lincoln. He had the pleasure of watching the girls play a rowdy game of phase 10, as well as a snooze on my 4 star hotel room floor.
This is my favorite pic! We were at an rugby afterparty in Sofia. One guy from the swiss team came over and gave me a leg of some animal. I think Lucia has a pic of the greasy kiss I received along with the leg. (note *When I didn't eat the leg he took it back. jerky)
Saturday, May 27, 2006
BLACKMAIL!
If I were a nicer teacher or PCV, I wouldn't show you this. If I were a meaner teacher or PCV, I'd have made a better clip and used it as blackmail against the three PCVs/former PCVs (name them and you get kudos from me!)
I've been a bit bored today so I'm looking at pictures. I had forgotten I had taken this clip, so it was a refreshing laugh when saw it. I love my students, they crack me up. I just don't so much like teaching them.
Also seen on this clip are Bulgarians from Blagoevgrad, Czechs (including one who I had a bit of a crush worthy of immature peanut tossing and 4 am bootie dancing...), and a few Italians. And those big green things? Name tags in the form of clovers. It was St. Patrick's day.
I've been a bit bored today so I'm looking at pictures. I had forgotten I had taken this clip, so it was a refreshing laugh when saw it. I love my students, they crack me up. I just don't so much like teaching them.
Also seen on this clip are Bulgarians from Blagoevgrad, Czechs (including one who I had a bit of a crush worthy of immature peanut tossing and 4 am bootie dancing...), and a few Italians. And those big green things? Name tags in the form of clovers. It was St. Patrick's day.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
God help these knees
Some fun pics of me and my counterpart! As you may remember, Yulia is a bit of a fearless soul. She's the one who decided to teach herself to ski (there are pics somewhere on this blog). We went to a nearby village, Bachevo, today to go horseback riding.
My counterpart, among other people, have decided that it's time I had a Bulgarian boyfriend. I've never been one for arranged hook-ups. So I laughed at meeting "sporty gordy," the slightly overweight ski teacher or "mountain rescuer" who's now a security guard and aspiring dump truck businessman. Are you impressed? Are you shocked that I laugh these descriptions off? I'll say one thing for most Bulgarians: they are honest, no sugarcoating here! So my CP decided that this guy is just what I need... hm.
I realized in these two arranged meetings I've had with Mr. Volleyball that I allow myself to be overshadowed. Being with my CP today and the other night at dinner with several of her husband's friends I realize how inadequate my Bulgarian is and wander of into my own world. I can have a fun conversation with one Bulgarian, or when there are other people with about my level of Bulgarian, but I CANNOT keep up with Bulgarians. So I feel like I'm not really myself which isn't fair to me, but what can I do? Study Bulgarian a bit more! and I guess if people really want to get to know me, they'll try to keep the conversation at my level. I can't blame them, really. No one wants to dumb it down for the foreigner.
Anyway, here's what I learned today...
1. horseback riding is not easy
2. you have to keep your knees in an unnatural and nearly unGodly position.
3. horses sweat and get your pants wet, which is gross.
4. horses are like children, you have to tell them exactly what you want them to do. They do not understand inuendo and they only understand body language which directly effects them (i.e. pulls their head or hurts their sides).
5. Someone who does not speak your language often makes a bad 'blind date"
Monday, May 22, 2006
25 NEW HIV CASES REGISTERED IN BULGARIA
25 NEW HIV CASES REGISTERED IN BULGARIA - Press Review news
What struck me about this article is the fact that out of 25 new reported cases of HIV only 4 were women. Why is that number so low? Is it normal for less than 25% of HIV cases to be female? What is the male to female ratio of testing? My guess is a lot more men are getting tested. Why is that? I wonder how the HIV rate in Bulgaria stacks up against other countries, as far as reported infections per year per capita. I wonder how many of these people with HIV were having using condoms, and how many were taught how to use a condom. I wonder if 9% is a bit high for the percentage of HIV cases contracted through blood transfusion.
just some questions i'll probably not answer, but strike me as urgent questions for people living in Bulgaria.
What struck me about this article is the fact that out of 25 new reported cases of HIV only 4 were women. Why is that number so low? Is it normal for less than 25% of HIV cases to be female? What is the male to female ratio of testing? My guess is a lot more men are getting tested. Why is that? I wonder how the HIV rate in Bulgaria stacks up against other countries, as far as reported infections per year per capita. I wonder how many of these people with HIV were having using condoms, and how many were taught how to use a condom. I wonder if 9% is a bit high for the percentage of HIV cases contracted through blood transfusion.
just some questions i'll probably not answer, but strike me as urgent questions for people living in Bulgaria.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Fire in the Sky
The best place in Bulgaria to experience a thunder storm is here in Razlog. There's something about hearing thunder crash off the mountain and roll around in the bowl of a valley you live in. It starts on your left and goes to the right, it slowly rolls from one side and back to the other.
And the lightning is unbelievable. In the dusk of sunset a flash lights up the sky like the noon day sun. After that you're blinded and all the sky is black. By the time the thunder rolls through your eyes have adjusted and perhaps the sky is a slightly brighter shade of sunset blue.
My summer is begining with thunderstorms very similar to the way last summer ended. It makes me think about the time that elapsed inbetween- from last spring to the end of summer - from the end of summer to this springish season. All the things in between. Makes me wonder about a lot of things.
And the lightning is unbelievable. In the dusk of sunset a flash lights up the sky like the noon day sun. After that you're blinded and all the sky is black. By the time the thunder rolls through your eyes have adjusted and perhaps the sky is a slightly brighter shade of sunset blue.
My summer is begining with thunderstorms very similar to the way last summer ended. It makes me think about the time that elapsed inbetween- from last spring to the end of summer - from the end of summer to this springish season. All the things in between. Makes me wonder about a lot of things.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Sorry if this is a bit too opinionated... i need to rage every now and again
I want to make a few announcements:
I Have the Best Baba Ever!
That may be an exaggeration, but it was incredibly nice to see a pot sitting infront of my door when I came home incredibly exhausted after a long day and a long week! Baba Zorka makes the best food, and her bean soup is NO exception. Having finished up my SPA grant proposal (Small Project Assistance), it was really nice to not have to make something to eat. Speaking of which, let's talk about this SPA thing... I'm not going to say it's been fun. I won't say I did a very good job at it. But it's been a learning experience. If my proposal is not granted, I'll still be glad that I've done it. One of my goals in Peace Corps was to gain some experience in grant writing, as I'd like to end up in the non-profit sector one day, and I realize this will be very useful experience. It's all about learning.
I'm no Idiot, Lemme make my own dern opinions!!
I still haven't read The Di Vinci Code, but I intend to. Further more, I'm incredibly excited to see the movie (I'm a big Paul Bettany fan). I believe two facts: I am an intelligent human being capable of deciding what it I believe is true (note: I'm not saying what I believe is true for me, but True), reading is good for me. NOW, I don't think that it's bad to read things that are not true, I'll even extend that to reading things that are the opposite of what I believe is true. For example, I think reading fantasy novels are not bad... Let me expound:
Fairytales and stories of magic, I believe, are explanations of something within our cultural subconscious. They symbolically address some common problem. They speak to common nature. They teach us to see beyond the surface (the frog prince), to take chances against evil (hansel and gretel), or that the righteous may suffer persecution (snow white). Many ancient and medieval fairytales tell the hearers, now readers, to listen to parents, the value of a woman's sexual purity, or that the greatest reward comes from hard work, ingenuity, and commitment.
I can offer two explanations why I have no qualms with magic in literature and stories. First, the subconscious is an unfathomable mystery which is easier explained in magic. We use a vehicle which is also unexplainable, so much so that we do not believe it, but through this vehicle arrive at an understanding of both unfathomables. Second, to a child, anything beyond understanding is magic. The microwave oven, a science far beyond the mind of a four-year-old, is a magical machine capable of inflating the paperbag into a universe of buttery goodness OR causing your fillings to explode if you're too close. The television set is a show put on specially fo you. A rainbow is a special gift from God. The tooth fairy delivers us money for our fallen teeth. A child left to his own imagination will develop a magical explanation because he cannot conceive of the scientific explanation.
We adults use magic as an easier way to explain tough concepts. We reward children for their bravery through the trauma of losing a tooth with a dollar from the "tooth fairy." We find it easier to explain the concept of a bunny and painted eggs than the persecution, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ to our innocent children. Look at children's books, children's movies, children's TV shows! They all have an element of the beyond-believable, the supernatural. Not because children have teensy attention spans which must be catered to with techno-color magical bunnies, but because it's on their level, and easier to understand. (internet and game console games are what we do for a child's short attention span)
That said, considering the generally accepted fact that children are pure at heart and are slowly tainted by the world and its foulness, is it really such a bad thing to return to learning like they do? In unpretentious ways?
And another thing. Fine if you want to forbid anything magical or fairytale-ish from your house. But let's be even and fair about it. Please, throw out your Disney movies, you Tolkein books or movies, your PS2 games, you books of nursery rhymes, anything Harry Potter of from the Nickolodeon channel, and any of C.S. Lewis' fiction. Let's just go ahead and forbid the creative altogether.
So what does that have to do with anything? Well, I recently googled "Di Vinci Code" so I could find out when it will come out in Europe. I happened upon a web site offering articles, videos, and booklets on going behind the code and revealing the truth. I'm not very up-to-date with the news, but has Dan Brown claimed that this novel is a work of non-fiction? What's it's Dewey decimal code? Does it start with a number or a letter? I don't know anyone who calls this book a masterpiece of research and detective skill.
I don't think it's such a bad thing that the Church sees something that it disagrees with and takes a firm opinion on it. But this whole Di Vinci Code thing, like the anti-Harry Potter fanatics just doesn't make sense to me. Why would you suggest we can't tell fiction from fact? Why is it a bad thing for me to enjoy things beyond reality? And most importantly,
CHURCH!! HOW MUCH MONEY HAVE YOU SPENT TEACHING AMERICA WHAT BOOKS NOT TO READ, WHICH MOVIES TO SEE OR NOT SEE, AND WHAT MUSIC TO LISTEN TO OR NOT LISTEN TO? and how does that compare with the amount of money you provide to help people have water, food, jobs, health care, literacy, safe homes, education? Why are babies dying of AIDS? How come children kilometers to sleep so they aren't kidnapped? Why are children left in rotten orphanages? Why are children trafficked like last winters potatoes to countries all around the world with a wink and a shrug by governments for the pleasure of sexual deviants around the world? WHY ARE CHILDREN FORCED INTO PROSTITUTION? WAR? PESTILENCE? DISEASE? poverty? invisibility?
Take another look at the "Christian industries." Music, books, movies. They make so much money because we feel more righteous by having Kincade pillows on our overstuffed couches and promises of wealth on our coffee cups and key rings. Listening to God's promises make us feel holier when we can jam to them in our loaded Expedition with the Jesus fish on the back bumper. I'm not saying any of these things are bad, but America, don't just sit there are feel pretty and holy in your opulence. Make a friggin difference and stop wasting air and dollars while you tell me which books not to read. As you tell us what Jesus did not do, I'll try showing what Jesus did.
"Preach the gospel, and if necessary use words." attributed to St. Francis of Assisi.
I Have the Best Baba Ever!
That may be an exaggeration, but it was incredibly nice to see a pot sitting infront of my door when I came home incredibly exhausted after a long day and a long week! Baba Zorka makes the best food, and her bean soup is NO exception. Having finished up my SPA grant proposal (Small Project Assistance), it was really nice to not have to make something to eat. Speaking of which, let's talk about this SPA thing... I'm not going to say it's been fun. I won't say I did a very good job at it. But it's been a learning experience. If my proposal is not granted, I'll still be glad that I've done it. One of my goals in Peace Corps was to gain some experience in grant writing, as I'd like to end up in the non-profit sector one day, and I realize this will be very useful experience. It's all about learning.
I'm no Idiot, Lemme make my own dern opinions!!
I still haven't read The Di Vinci Code, but I intend to. Further more, I'm incredibly excited to see the movie (I'm a big Paul Bettany fan). I believe two facts: I am an intelligent human being capable of deciding what it I believe is true (note: I'm not saying what I believe is true for me, but True), reading is good for me. NOW, I don't think that it's bad to read things that are not true, I'll even extend that to reading things that are the opposite of what I believe is true. For example, I think reading fantasy novels are not bad... Let me expound:
Fairytales and stories of magic, I believe, are explanations of something within our cultural subconscious. They symbolically address some common problem. They speak to common nature. They teach us to see beyond the surface (the frog prince), to take chances against evil (hansel and gretel), or that the righteous may suffer persecution (snow white). Many ancient and medieval fairytales tell the hearers, now readers, to listen to parents, the value of a woman's sexual purity, or that the greatest reward comes from hard work, ingenuity, and commitment.
I can offer two explanations why I have no qualms with magic in literature and stories. First, the subconscious is an unfathomable mystery which is easier explained in magic. We use a vehicle which is also unexplainable, so much so that we do not believe it, but through this vehicle arrive at an understanding of both unfathomables. Second, to a child, anything beyond understanding is magic. The microwave oven, a science far beyond the mind of a four-year-old, is a magical machine capable of inflating the paperbag into a universe of buttery goodness OR causing your fillings to explode if you're too close. The television set is a show put on specially fo you. A rainbow is a special gift from God. The tooth fairy delivers us money for our fallen teeth. A child left to his own imagination will develop a magical explanation because he cannot conceive of the scientific explanation.
We adults use magic as an easier way to explain tough concepts. We reward children for their bravery through the trauma of losing a tooth with a dollar from the "tooth fairy." We find it easier to explain the concept of a bunny and painted eggs than the persecution, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ to our innocent children. Look at children's books, children's movies, children's TV shows! They all have an element of the beyond-believable, the supernatural. Not because children have teensy attention spans which must be catered to with techno-color magical bunnies, but because it's on their level, and easier to understand. (internet and game console games are what we do for a child's short attention span)
That said, considering the generally accepted fact that children are pure at heart and are slowly tainted by the world and its foulness, is it really such a bad thing to return to learning like they do? In unpretentious ways?
And another thing. Fine if you want to forbid anything magical or fairytale-ish from your house. But let's be even and fair about it. Please, throw out your Disney movies, you Tolkein books or movies, your PS2 games, you books of nursery rhymes, anything Harry Potter of from the Nickolodeon channel, and any of C.S. Lewis' fiction. Let's just go ahead and forbid the creative altogether.
So what does that have to do with anything? Well, I recently googled "Di Vinci Code" so I could find out when it will come out in Europe. I happened upon a web site offering articles, videos, and booklets on going behind the code and revealing the truth. I'm not very up-to-date with the news, but has Dan Brown claimed that this novel is a work of non-fiction? What's it's Dewey decimal code? Does it start with a number or a letter? I don't know anyone who calls this book a masterpiece of research and detective skill.
I don't think it's such a bad thing that the Church sees something that it disagrees with and takes a firm opinion on it. But this whole Di Vinci Code thing, like the anti-Harry Potter fanatics just doesn't make sense to me. Why would you suggest we can't tell fiction from fact? Why is it a bad thing for me to enjoy things beyond reality? And most importantly,
CHURCH!! HOW MUCH MONEY HAVE YOU SPENT TEACHING AMERICA WHAT BOOKS NOT TO READ, WHICH MOVIES TO SEE OR NOT SEE, AND WHAT MUSIC TO LISTEN TO OR NOT LISTEN TO? and how does that compare with the amount of money you provide to help people have water, food, jobs, health care, literacy, safe homes, education? Why are babies dying of AIDS? How come children kilometers to sleep so they aren't kidnapped? Why are children left in rotten orphanages? Why are children trafficked like last winters potatoes to countries all around the world with a wink and a shrug by governments for the pleasure of sexual deviants around the world? WHY ARE CHILDREN FORCED INTO PROSTITUTION? WAR? PESTILENCE? DISEASE? poverty? invisibility?
Take another look at the "Christian industries." Music, books, movies. They make so much money because we feel more righteous by having Kincade pillows on our overstuffed couches and promises of wealth on our coffee cups and key rings. Listening to God's promises make us feel holier when we can jam to them in our loaded Expedition with the Jesus fish on the back bumper. I'm not saying any of these things are bad, but America, don't just sit there are feel pretty and holy in your opulence. Make a friggin difference and stop wasting air and dollars while you tell me which books not to read. As you tell us what Jesus did not do, I'll try showing what Jesus did.
"Preach the gospel, and if necessary use words." attributed to St. Francis of Assisi.
Monday, May 08, 2006
been a long time
I suppose I should be ashamed to admit this, but it's been a long time since I've seen something that hurt my heart to the point that I cried. I mean something unjust, tragic, and not directly related to me.
My sister recently participated in something I had not heard about called "Global Night Commute" which was an effort by Invisible Children to raise awareness about children in Uganda who because of war and acts of terrorism must walk to a safe place every evening to sleep. This is the only way they avoid the terrorist acts of kidnapping and murder that are results of war in their region.
It's sad. I recently got an email about babies. BABIES. b.a.b.i.e.s. being raped in South Africa by multiple men because of the myth that AIDS can be cured by having sex with a virgin, the younger the better. *spits on the floor in disgust* I am incredibly not qualified but this is one of those moments where part of me wishes I was doing some sort of community health education program. Not that we don't have problems here.
Oh, there are health problems here. But peoples lives are relatively uneffected so, I suppose, they don't see the urgent need to raise awareness on these topics. Topics like, yes Bulgaria, AIDS does exist here, sex education, why smoking really is bad for you, trafficking in persons, why spaying and nuetering stray animals is a good thing and not infringing on the rights of animals.
Peace Corps Bulgaria does touch on these topics. More than touch really. Trafficking in persons is a large element of what we are expected to work on as PCVs, and in this we are given the opportunity to comment on many inclusive subjects. Drugs, alcohol, responsible sexual habits, STDs are all subjects which can effect or are effected by the industry of human trafficking.
I don't really know why I'm rambling about either of these two topics. Have a good day.
My sister recently participated in something I had not heard about called "Global Night Commute" which was an effort by Invisible Children to raise awareness about children in Uganda who because of war and acts of terrorism must walk to a safe place every evening to sleep. This is the only way they avoid the terrorist acts of kidnapping and murder that are results of war in their region.
It's sad. I recently got an email about babies. BABIES. b.a.b.i.e.s. being raped in South Africa by multiple men because of the myth that AIDS can be cured by having sex with a virgin, the younger the better. *spits on the floor in disgust* I am incredibly not qualified but this is one of those moments where part of me wishes I was doing some sort of community health education program. Not that we don't have problems here.
Oh, there are health problems here. But peoples lives are relatively uneffected so, I suppose, they don't see the urgent need to raise awareness on these topics. Topics like, yes Bulgaria, AIDS does exist here, sex education, why smoking really is bad for you, trafficking in persons, why spaying and nuetering stray animals is a good thing and not infringing on the rights of animals.
Peace Corps Bulgaria does touch on these topics. More than touch really. Trafficking in persons is a large element of what we are expected to work on as PCVs, and in this we are given the opportunity to comment on many inclusive subjects. Drugs, alcohol, responsible sexual habits, STDs are all subjects which can effect or are effected by the industry of human trafficking.
I don't really know why I'm rambling about either of these two topics. Have a good day.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Tired Sore Confused
I just returned from two three cold days and two frigid nights in the mountains. The youth group I work with (my students who are privileged enough to see a different side of me) had a training in the mountains on "Team Building." This is a good topic since team work is not a well practiced concept in Bulgaria. However, team work really wasn't much of what they worked on. It was more of an exploration into the goals of the organization, which is also a good thing. And, it does help build the team, since it shows them the common goal toward which they are working.
I have mentioned before that there is a conflict between this organizations and the teachers/admin at my school. I foresee a development in this conflict... There will be three different exchanges that the kids will go on. Three different countries. Three different sets of absences. Three times our director will get the raw end of severals teachers' anger. I fear I will be in the middle. We got the opportunity to talk about this problem. While it raised the blood pressure of some to potentially lethal levels, it was a productive and constructive discussion. I hope.
I hope. I may be speaking too soon.
I discovered exactly how fickle I am. At one point in this particular conversation I said to myself, "How can I work in this situation? Stuck between two groups who adamantly refuse to cooperate? That's it, I quit!" Only minutes later when the argument progressed I found myself thinking, "Mmhm, that's right! See, there's some productive thinking! I can't WAIT till we do that!" huh? Fickle!
It turns out spring in Razlog is very much like fall. It's colorful. Very cold at night. Chilly in the mornings and evenings. There are a few quite pleasant hours of warmth when the sunshines. And the thunderstorms are very intense. I love thunderstorms generally. But we had at least one hearty thunderstorm a week at the beginning of the fall, and spring looks about the same. These things get annoying.
At any rate... I spent the weekend with this group of students. I'm exhausted of Bulgarian only. I'm tired of being cold. Most importantly, I'm tired of this teeter-totter where I see the potential of something great and then see it beaten to a pulp, smashed to shreds with a meat tenderizer, or smeared with rot and left in the searing sun to decompose. I try to be realistic- to balance the positive and the negative,- to balance my idealism, pessimism, and optimism. I find this so incredibly tiring. It's a waiting game. It's a roller coaster.
Here's the cycle: I see something fabulously bursting with potential. I find interested parties. It proceeds and dies from one of two deaths: 1) Interested parties loose interest and/or motivation and/or 2) Opposition firmly kills said potential. I then plummet into a pit of frustration and unproductive thoughts (yeah, I know it's unproductive. Isn't that what I just said?). This pit is where I linger until something very happy draws me out. Each time I plummet into the pit, I lose parts of myself. This loss creates a type of lightness which increases the speed with which I ascend and descend out of the pit, making each more difficult and causing me to lose more of myself.
Don't you see? After another year there will be nothing left? I will be nothing more than a shell of me being tossed back and forth like a ping pong ball.
Whatevs, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.
Changes in Links
I made a few changes to my links. I took off a couple PCVs who've returned to America. Maybe I'll make an RPCV section after a while. I've added a few links that are interesting to me... three blogs that are concerned with local issues. LaVergne, the town in which my permanant residence is currently located; Smyrna, the town next to that; and Del Norte County, the county in which I was born, which I believe has some of the most beautiful landscapes in North American (not exaggerating - *Redwood National Park*), is home to a large chunk of my extended family, and one of the hardest places to live in California I believe. Just so ya know.
I have mentioned before that there is a conflict between this organizations and the teachers/admin at my school. I foresee a development in this conflict... There will be three different exchanges that the kids will go on. Three different countries. Three different sets of absences. Three times our director will get the raw end of severals teachers' anger. I fear I will be in the middle. We got the opportunity to talk about this problem. While it raised the blood pressure of some to potentially lethal levels, it was a productive and constructive discussion. I hope.
I hope. I may be speaking too soon.
I discovered exactly how fickle I am. At one point in this particular conversation I said to myself, "How can I work in this situation? Stuck between two groups who adamantly refuse to cooperate? That's it, I quit!" Only minutes later when the argument progressed I found myself thinking, "Mmhm, that's right! See, there's some productive thinking! I can't WAIT till we do that!" huh? Fickle!
It turns out spring in Razlog is very much like fall. It's colorful. Very cold at night. Chilly in the mornings and evenings. There are a few quite pleasant hours of warmth when the sunshines. And the thunderstorms are very intense. I love thunderstorms generally. But we had at least one hearty thunderstorm a week at the beginning of the fall, and spring looks about the same. These things get annoying.
At any rate... I spent the weekend with this group of students. I'm exhausted of Bulgarian only. I'm tired of being cold. Most importantly, I'm tired of this teeter-totter where I see the potential of something great and then see it beaten to a pulp, smashed to shreds with a meat tenderizer, or smeared with rot and left in the searing sun to decompose. I try to be realistic- to balance the positive and the negative,- to balance my idealism, pessimism, and optimism. I find this so incredibly tiring. It's a waiting game. It's a roller coaster.
Here's the cycle: I see something fabulously bursting with potential. I find interested parties. It proceeds and dies from one of two deaths: 1) Interested parties loose interest and/or motivation and/or 2) Opposition firmly kills said potential. I then plummet into a pit of frustration and unproductive thoughts (yeah, I know it's unproductive. Isn't that what I just said?). This pit is where I linger until something very happy draws me out. Each time I plummet into the pit, I lose parts of myself. This loss creates a type of lightness which increases the speed with which I ascend and descend out of the pit, making each more difficult and causing me to lose more of myself.
Don't you see? After another year there will be nothing left? I will be nothing more than a shell of me being tossed back and forth like a ping pong ball.
Whatevs, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.
Changes in Links
I made a few changes to my links. I took off a couple PCVs who've returned to America. Maybe I'll make an RPCV section after a while. I've added a few links that are interesting to me... three blogs that are concerned with local issues. LaVergne, the town in which my permanant residence is currently located; Smyrna, the town next to that; and Del Norte County, the county in which I was born, which I believe has some of the most beautiful landscapes in North American (not exaggerating - *Redwood National Park*), is home to a large chunk of my extended family, and one of the hardest places to live in California I believe. Just so ya know.
Monday, May 01, 2006
questions
I am SO tired of size 12 Times New Roman font. I am tired of manipulating budgets. I am tired of goals, objectives, aims, цели, подцели, blablabla. What I’m trying to say is that I’m tired of SPA (Small Project Assistance). Mostly because I don’t feel like it’s really fulfilling any of its purposes. Now, you may ask if I actually mean my purposes. I do not. My purpose is to help the school, as my community, meet its stated needs. Anyway, I don’t feel very good about the whole thing and it makes me ask some questions…
I know most of the PCVs in my group are asking these same questions. We are asking if we are content and most of us hear a resounding “НЕ!!!” We are asking if we are being the best PCVs we can be, the best English teachers, the best members of our communities. We are reevaluating the professional standards and our program goals.
April 25th marked one year of my life- Bulgarish style. I could review all the highs and lows of the last year. I could also review all the things I’ve missed out on at home. I could list my failures or my feats. I could recite the things I’ve learned and choices I will not remake next year. That would take such a long time. I’ll tell you simply that since I moved to Razlog last July, I am in a much healthier place, mentally. That doesn’t mean I’m happy, or even content. That doesn’t even mean I’m sure being here is the right thing for PC Bulgaria and for my school. It simply means that I’m not on the edge of a breakdown. Not this week. Two weeks ago I was. Two weeks ago I was ready to take the next flight to BNA!
Here is my question for the week: I am not a good teacher. I am not a good English teacher. I could perhaps teach students literature or poetry. I could teach something that in and of itself contains inspiration or beauty. English grammar with limited resources and so few sessions is beyond difficult for me. I’m at the point to which I do not even attempt to look like a teacher. I am clearly not a Bulgarian teacher, and I never claimed to be an American teacher. I can’t make anyone learn. I’m beginning to wonder if it is enough to be friends with my students. Their English is incredible, and their teachers do much better at teaching them than I do. Maybe I can just expand their horizons somehow.
But is that enough? Being friends with several Bulgarian teenagers? Playing language games with rowdy 8th graders? I don’t know. When I consider all that I have missed in America, in my family, I think it’s not. When I remember all the amazing highs and tough but enlightening lows of the last year, I understand that I am a better person and would not change that. Is my own personal change worth it? Worth being a crummy teacher, a miserably cold winter, a year of memories made with out me? That is the question on my heart these days.
I know most of the PCVs in my group are asking these same questions. We are asking if we are content and most of us hear a resounding “НЕ!!!” We are asking if we are being the best PCVs we can be, the best English teachers, the best members of our communities. We are reevaluating the professional standards and our program goals.
April 25th marked one year of my life- Bulgarish style. I could review all the highs and lows of the last year. I could also review all the things I’ve missed out on at home. I could list my failures or my feats. I could recite the things I’ve learned and choices I will not remake next year. That would take such a long time. I’ll tell you simply that since I moved to Razlog last July, I am in a much healthier place, mentally. That doesn’t mean I’m happy, or even content. That doesn’t even mean I’m sure being here is the right thing for PC Bulgaria and for my school. It simply means that I’m not on the edge of a breakdown. Not this week. Two weeks ago I was. Two weeks ago I was ready to take the next flight to BNA!
Here is my question for the week: I am not a good teacher. I am not a good English teacher. I could perhaps teach students literature or poetry. I could teach something that in and of itself contains inspiration or beauty. English grammar with limited resources and so few sessions is beyond difficult for me. I’m at the point to which I do not even attempt to look like a teacher. I am clearly not a Bulgarian teacher, and I never claimed to be an American teacher. I can’t make anyone learn. I’m beginning to wonder if it is enough to be friends with my students. Their English is incredible, and their teachers do much better at teaching them than I do. Maybe I can just expand their horizons somehow.
But is that enough? Being friends with several Bulgarian teenagers? Playing language games with rowdy 8th graders? I don’t know. When I consider all that I have missed in America, in my family, I think it’s not. When I remember all the amazing highs and tough but enlightening lows of the last year, I understand that I am a better person and would not change that. Is my own personal change worth it? Worth being a crummy teacher, a miserably cold winter, a year of memories made with out me? That is the question on my heart these days.
questions
I am SO tired of size 12 Times New Roman font. I am tired of manipulating budgets. I am tired of goals, objectives, aims, цели, подцели, blablabla. What I’m trying to say is that I’m tired of SPA (Small Project Assistance). Mostly because I don’t feel like it’s really fulfilling any of its purposes. Now, you may ask if I actually mean my purposes. I do not. My purpose is to help the school, as my community, meet its stated needs. Anyway, I don’t feel very good about the whole thing and it makes me ask some questions…
I know most of the PCVs in my group are asking these same questions. We are asking if we are content and most of us hear a resounding “НЕ!!!” We are asking if we are being the best PCVs we can be, the best English teachers, the best members of our communities. We are reevaluating the professional standards and our program goals.
April 25th marked one year of my life- Bulgarish style. I could review all the highs and lows of the last year. I could also review all the things I’ve missed out on at home. I could list my failures or my feats. I could recite the things I’ve learned and choices I will not remake next year. That would take such a long time. I’ll tell you simply that since I moved to Razlog last July, I am in a much healthier place, mentally. That doesn’t mean I’m happy, or even content. That doesn’t even mean I’m sure being here is the right thing for PC Bulgaria and for my school. It simply means that I’m not on the edge of a breakdown. Not this week. Two weeks ago I was. Two weeks ago I was ready to take the next flight to BNA!
Here is my question for the week: I am not a good teacher. I am not a good English teacher. I could perhaps teach students literature or poetry. I could teach something that in and of itself contains inspiration or beauty. English grammar with limited resources and so few sessions is beyond difficult for me. I’m at the point to which I do not even attempt to look like a teacher. I am clearly not a Bulgarian teacher, and I never claimed to be an American teacher. I can’t make anyone learn. I’m beginning to wonder if it is enough to be friends with my students. Their English is incredible, and their teachers do much better at teaching them than I do. Maybe I can just expand their horizons somehow.
But is that enough? Being friends with several Bulgarian teenagers? Playing language games with rowdy 8th graders? I don’t know. When I consider all that I have missed in America, in my family, I think it’s not. When I remember all the amazing highs and tough but enlightening lows of the last year, I understand that I am a better person and would not change that. Is my own personal change worth it? Worth being a crummy teacher, a miserably cold winter, a year of memories made with out me? That is the question on my heart these days.
I know most of the PCVs in my group are asking these same questions. We are asking if we are content and most of us hear a resounding “НЕ!!!” We are asking if we are being the best PCVs we can be, the best English teachers, the best members of our communities. We are reevaluating the professional standards and our program goals.
April 25th marked one year of my life- Bulgarish style. I could review all the highs and lows of the last year. I could also review all the things I’ve missed out on at home. I could list my failures or my feats. I could recite the things I’ve learned and choices I will not remake next year. That would take such a long time. I’ll tell you simply that since I moved to Razlog last July, I am in a much healthier place, mentally. That doesn’t mean I’m happy, or even content. That doesn’t even mean I’m sure being here is the right thing for PC Bulgaria and for my school. It simply means that I’m not on the edge of a breakdown. Not this week. Two weeks ago I was. Two weeks ago I was ready to take the next flight to BNA!
Here is my question for the week: I am not a good teacher. I am not a good English teacher. I could perhaps teach students literature or poetry. I could teach something that in and of itself contains inspiration or beauty. English grammar with limited resources and so few sessions is beyond difficult for me. I’m at the point to which I do not even attempt to look like a teacher. I am clearly not a Bulgarian teacher, and I never claimed to be an American teacher. I can’t make anyone learn. I’m beginning to wonder if it is enough to be friends with my students. Their English is incredible, and their teachers do much better at teaching them than I do. Maybe I can just expand their horizons somehow.
But is that enough? Being friends with several Bulgarian teenagers? Playing language games with rowdy 8th graders? I don’t know. When I consider all that I have missed in America, in my family, I think it’s not. When I remember all the amazing highs and tough but enlightening lows of the last year, I understand that I am a better person and would not change that. Is my own personal change worth it? Worth being a crummy teacher, a miserably cold winter, a year of memories made with out me? That is the question on my heart these days.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
A tough reminder
Sometimes being a Peace Corps Volunteer rocks. Sometimes you experience some of the best things. These are some of my students, some of my kids. They are inspiring in their discipline and wisdom. Not all of them, and not all the time. Their ability to have fun and shake their lump-bumps is astounding. Their discipline in learning English is inversely proportionate to their discipline and devotion to class. They stand up to big challenges and are devoted to their community. They remind me why I'm a volunteer.Sometimes being a Peace Corps Volunteer is a painful and bitter experience. Sometimes the good is vastly out weighed by the bad and the ugly (also the name of a game I recently played in some of my classes). Sometimes the things I know I'm missing are poignant ghosts of memories never to happen and are no where near as important as the moments I wish I could erase from each cell in my brain. Sometimes the good things up and walk away.
A lot of people are talking about the new policies Peace Corps Bulgaria are talking about inacting which would restrict our travel. I won't comment on those, especially considering I don't know exactly what they are yet. But I will say that if it were not for my travels and the travels of other PCVs to me, I would have really lost my mind a long time ago, probably sometime in those first lonely months when I had nothing to do no matter how hard I tried. But I'm still here. Thank God, I now have an active social life here in town. I do stuff with my kids, but social events with my friends come before my kids. And somewhere in there I fit in my PCV friends. Truth be told, my PCV friends... well I feel like I neglect them frequently. To me, friendship is such an essential element of life, particularly our Bulgarish lives. When your support fails you, life is tough. I hate feeling like I should be helping someone and I'm not. Right now, I feel as though I should visit several of my friends who've had horrible months. But I'm not. I'm going to celebrate Easter in the town I consider my Bulgarian birth place. I'm opting for the cultural route instead of "American time."
Thankfully, like some of my ultimate favorite experiences (PST, Dobarsko, the pig kill, and nights at Fenera) can include both American and Bulgarian culture. Isn't that what it's really all about anyway?
Monday, April 10, 2006
meggie hurt, meggie hurt baaaaaddddd
I don’t know where to start. I feel like I’m floating in a world of discomfort. It’s not too dreadfully painful, but it’s far from pleasant. I don’t want to write a long list of complaints. Suffice it to say, with all of the other mitigating factors, my sitemates left Razlog this morning never to return. I sobbed with all of Harmonie’s high schoolers last night. Today, I was standing in the front lawn at the PC office in Sofia. I saw them get out of a taxi and started to cry. We all had work at the office today, so I ran into them several times. It was really hard. Every time I saw either of them… tears. Many tears.
It’s a tragedy whenever anyone leaves Peace Corps early. For stupid reasons, like not being able to follow simple rules. For getting caught up in a mess of other people’s judgment issues. For medical reasons. For problems adjusting. For whatever reason. It’s a loss to the staff, the host organization (even if they don’t realize it!), to the other volunteers with whom relationships have been built. I know it happens. It’s just never hit home so hard. These people came into my life and affected it. They provided encouragement, comfort, support, resources, laughs, and dinner buddies. They are volunteers that have reinforced Peace Corps’ good name in Bulgaria, and in other countries, for the work they have done here. What Harmonie has done with the kids here gives me hope that I too will be able to make it and make a small difference on some lives.
It’s a tragedy whenever anyone leaves Peace Corps early. For stupid reasons, like not being able to follow simple rules. For getting caught up in a mess of other people’s judgment issues. For medical reasons. For problems adjusting. For whatever reason. It’s a loss to the staff, the host organization (even if they don’t realize it!), to the other volunteers with whom relationships have been built. I know it happens. It’s just never hit home so hard. These people came into my life and affected it. They provided encouragement, comfort, support, resources, laughs, and dinner buddies. They are volunteers that have reinforced Peace Corps’ good name in Bulgaria, and in other countries, for the work they have done here. What Harmonie has done with the kids here gives me hope that I too will be able to make it and make a small difference on some lives.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Spring Break and other random tidbits
Spring break recap: Friday: Fun times evening with Elena and Razlogshki friends. Saturday: Day in Blagoevgrad including spa treatments. Dinner in Bgrad. Dancing till my bootie aches. Note: Blagoevgrad is extra fun! But if you really like to dance with your girls, sometimes the guys are creeped out and just stare at you. Uch, Creepy. Sunday- Tuesday: Moving on, Becca & Krichim fammo times. Got sick again. Get duners and antibiotics and coffee at the café/bar with the hottest dudes in Plovdiv. Wednesday: Take the night train w/ Becca to Varna, watch the sun come up on the beach, eat McDonalds for breakfast, meander around Varna, catch up with Andy! See Carin for the first time in ages ;) Thursday: Play tourist in Varna (Archeological Museum and dolphin café, make a dinner for EVER! Friday: Get tex-mex with Celche, shop (hoodie, ring, and sweet khakis), get Turkish with the group. Randomness. Get on train. Saturday: Splurged for the sleeper cart. Arrive in Sofia. Freshen up and dump stuff at the PC Office. Meet Lucia for a soy latte, a very long walk around Sofia, with Chris, the 2leva bunny (shhh, it’s a deer). Meet Ethan for Vietnamese that doesn’t exist, Indian works well too. Make it back to the log in one, weak and exhausted and not too healthy piece.
That’s the summery. I’ll try to write some of the random stories that made it an exceptionally awesome week. But here are some of the essentials:
I love adding “iz” in the middle of words. So “Hot Spot” a swanky over priced store becomes, “hizzle spizzle.” How swanky are you now?? This becomes exceptionally funny when you put Celia and I together because we are pretty funny together. Or obnoxious. You decide.
Lucia was bumming today, and I was feeling pretty sickly. But we say animal balloons. Lucia offered to buy the balloon if I carried it around all day. We decided to name it Chris. Chris and I took pictures doing silly things like being frightened of a stuffed hawk, being sad we can’t go to the J-Lo concert, contemplatively reading a book titled “Porn,” and joining Ethan to gawk at the deer (statues) in the park. We had fun.
I love to laugh. Ha ha ha ha ha (insert Mary Poppins song here). It was just so good to be with people who make me laugh. I wish I had these people around me more often. As one group of PCVs is getting ready to leave, and another is nearly here, I’m frightened at the prospect of being separated from my friends.
My mom’s brought up the idea of going into non-profit/social work again. Grrrrr… I wish I had the slightest clue. I always say I could never see myself living there, but it’s always the first place I think of when I think of going into social work. I just don’t know exactly what I would do. What about literacy. I wonder what the literacy rate is for Del Norte County, California. What if I started/worked for a literacy foundation-NPO? That covers the linguistic and the social work. Ack, starting and or running an NPO? Poor forever in California? Or dear… I have 15 months left to figure it out. And of course, I’ll have to get my MA first. Shew, at least there’s that.
I clearly need to rest. Oh, one more thing. I was listening to Johnny Cash’s “American IV” on my way home from the bus station today. You who’ve been to my lovely town know that my street runs along a cute little river. It’s been warmer lately, and the recent melt has caused the water lever to rise and the speed to pick up. As I was walking this road, “Bridge over troubled water” came on. I choked up thinking about the people who would be there for me if I needed them, and the people who I like to think I help support. It’s cheesy but yes, “when evening falls so hard, I’ll comfort you. I’ll take your part when darkness comes. Thank God for friends and family, antibiotics and decongestants.
That’s the summery. I’ll try to write some of the random stories that made it an exceptionally awesome week. But here are some of the essentials:
I love adding “iz” in the middle of words. So “Hot Spot” a swanky over priced store becomes, “hizzle spizzle.” How swanky are you now?? This becomes exceptionally funny when you put Celia and I together because we are pretty funny together. Or obnoxious. You decide.
Lucia was bumming today, and I was feeling pretty sickly. But we say animal balloons. Lucia offered to buy the balloon if I carried it around all day. We decided to name it Chris. Chris and I took pictures doing silly things like being frightened of a stuffed hawk, being sad we can’t go to the J-Lo concert, contemplatively reading a book titled “Porn,” and joining Ethan to gawk at the deer (statues) in the park. We had fun.
I love to laugh. Ha ha ha ha ha (insert Mary Poppins song here). It was just so good to be with people who make me laugh. I wish I had these people around me more often. As one group of PCVs is getting ready to leave, and another is nearly here, I’m frightened at the prospect of being separated from my friends.
My mom’s brought up the idea of going into non-profit/social work again. Grrrrr… I wish I had the slightest clue. I always say I could never see myself living there, but it’s always the first place I think of when I think of going into social work. I just don’t know exactly what I would do. What about literacy. I wonder what the literacy rate is for Del Norte County, California. What if I started/worked for a literacy foundation-NPO? That covers the linguistic and the social work. Ack, starting and or running an NPO? Poor forever in California? Or dear… I have 15 months left to figure it out. And of course, I’ll have to get my MA first. Shew, at least there’s that.
I clearly need to rest. Oh, one more thing. I was listening to Johnny Cash’s “American IV” on my way home from the bus station today. You who’ve been to my lovely town know that my street runs along a cute little river. It’s been warmer lately, and the recent melt has caused the water lever to rise and the speed to pick up. As I was walking this road, “Bridge over troubled water” came on. I choked up thinking about the people who would be there for me if I needed them, and the people who I like to think I help support. It’s cheesy but yes, “when evening falls so hard, I’ll comfort you. I’ll take your part when darkness comes. Thank God for friends and family, antibiotics and decongestants.
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