Great Advice

Great advice to anyone away (physically or emotionally) and changing…

“But everything that may someday be possible for many people, the solitary man can now, already, prepare and build with his own hands, which make fewer mistakes. Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away, you write, and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast. And if what is near you is far away, then your vastness is already among the stars and is very great; be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust. Avoid providing material for the drama, that is always stretched tight between parent and children; it uses up much of the children's strength and wastes the love of the elders, which acts and warms even if it doesn't comprehend Don't ask for any advice from them and don't expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
     Rainer Maria Rilke  from Letters to a Young Poet

Updates

Update on the mouse:
Няамам! I had the cat around. She inspected the flat, except for my bedroom which was quickly closed off. I DO NOT want any dang fleas! After climbing on my table, counter, and into the sink, she finally showed she was content with the place by curling up on the couch. Then the little pill of a mouse started scratching around again. Oh, kitty didn't like that. She ran over, prowled behind the oven, chased mousie, SHE CAUGHT HIM!! I was so excited!! Like any good cat, she played with her kill for a bit. I used a newspaper and a plastic bag to rid my floor of the dead mouse. I applauded kitty. I returned kitty and the mouse trap and left the dead mouse in the newspapers in the bag at the foot of the stairs. It's kind of hard to explain in Bulgarian, "Hi, thanks for letting me borrow your cat. Here she is, she's sufficiently de-pested my flat." So I just pointed to the bag and said "Всичко е добре!" "Everything's okay!" No more mouse trap, no more cat, no more mouse!!

Some one I hadn't emailed in a while asked me how I was doing. What an overwhelming question! This is how I summed it up for him..
A few of the things I learned this summer and am still learning now... In no particular order.
1. It's okay to not be productive for a bit. Maybe you need to grow before you can produce.
2. It's okay to be lonely for a short season. It helps you to recognize the importance of the love you receive.
3. Silence is a chance for God to cause you to pull closer to him, like a teacher who whispers from the front of the class so the noisy brat in the back will have to be quiet in order to hear anything.
4. You've got to love everything, even the questions, "love all that is unresolved in your heart... try to love the questions themselves." R.M. Rilke.  If you don't learn to love the questions, the answers will always be too big for you to understand. You have to love the mystery before you can truly understand the resolution, the conclusion.
5. Maybe it IS better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
6. There are a lot of things, people, and events in my life that I have a habit of turning to for comfort before I turn to The Comforter. A season of solitude will quickly begin working that out of a person.    

Bulgarian Mice

Bulgarian mouse trap.

So here's a fun story about my life in Bulgaria. One night I had the married couple PCVs over for a bit of watermelon and rakia. Chad looks strangely past me and tells me I have a friend. "Huh?" Chad gets up and walks slowly over to my stove. I turn around. Chad walks back and sits down. "There was a mouse sitting over there."

"Oh, you are KIDDING!!" I said.
"Um, okay, I'm kidding." Chad unconvincingly responded.
"Oh no oh no oh no oh no," I wailed.

So I kept on the look out for my new friend. I saw none of the signs of mouse life. No nibbled on food kept in the cupboards, no mouse droppings in the corner. But I kept hearing things.

Between the first alleged mouse appearance and today, the first actual mouse appearance, I have been trying to convince myself there is no mouse. I hadn't seen one after all. A fellow PCV visited me one weekend and told me I was hearing things, that he couldn't hear the little scratchy noises I could hear at night.

Everything changed with a piece of bread. I was making grilled cheese sandwiches one evening with this absolutely wonderful American processed cheese (just like velveeta cheese slices!!) that I had found in Blagoevgrad. I lifted my sandwich-in-progress out of the skillet a bit to look at the bottom... And whoopsie daisies... My sammich done falt apart. The top piece of bread just flipped off and flew behind the stove. I was in the middle of grilling my yummy, oowie-gooie-cheezzzy sandwich, so I decided I would fetch my bread later. Well, sometimes megi here forgets what she says she'll do later.

Funny thing, that same fellow PCV came to visit again this weekend. I told him, "I haven't heard anything from my mousy friend."
He said, "That's because you were only imagining him."
"Yeah, maybe Chad was only joking..."
We went for a walk, and came back about thirty minutes later. I began cooking dinner and noticed a wet spot on my rug. Upon closer inspection, I realized that my washer was leaking. Well, not so much leaking. My side load wash machine had some how been filling with water. The door was not closed all the way. In our attempt to fix things, we made a huge mess! (Um, thank GOD I was not alone to deal with this!) As it turns out, I really should be turning off the water when I'm not using the wash machine. So, we had to take out the rug that lays in front of the wash machine and under the oven that's in front of the bread that Maegen dropped.

As I lay in bed that night, I said to myself (I talk to myself a lot these days, you see), "Megi, now that the oven has been moved a bit, you should fetch your slice of bread."

"Hm, good idea," I responded, "but I don't remember seeing the bread there."
"Ohh, you are right, I don't think it was there. I wonder what happened to it?"
"Ahhh, remember the time you left the back door open and the neighbor's cat snuck in and you caught her running out from behind the fridge?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, maybe the cat ate the bread."
"Yeah, maybe. Goodnight."
"Добре, лейка нощ." (sometimes we talk in Bulgarian, too)

Cut to today... It's about 9am. I had class first period and won't have another until 6th, so I'm chilling online. I'm sitting in my living room, which is about eight feet from kitchen. I can swear I hear something scratching around behind my refrigerator. I go pound on the fridge. I put my cheek to the carpet and glare under the fridge. Nothing. Hm, oh well.

Now it's about 3pm. I'm chilling on the internet again; putting pics on my blog, sending SMSs for free online, downloading music, normal stuff for PCVs. ; ) (toughest job you'll ever love) I hear something that is CLEARLY a mouse under my refrigerator. I get up and again, put my cheek to the floor and gaze into the no-mans-land that is the space under the fridge.
"What is that?" I ask myself.
"Maybe it's your piece of bread."
"No, surely it's not. It's under the refrigerator. I thought the cat ate it."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! OHMYOHMYOHHHHHHAHHHHHHH"
The little critter decided he'd run out to nibble on his feast of bread. After screaming, jumping in the chair, then scolding myself for behaving like a princess, which I am so clearly NOT, I went to the closet, took out a hanger, and finally fetched my bread. Or what was left of it. I took the garbage out and said,"Good luck now mousie!"

I sat out side with a neighbor baba (grandma) for a bit. My landlady walked out with her son and said, "Хаиди на разходка!" I mean "Come for a walk!" So we were walking and I thought to myself, "Megi," I've become Megi to myself because Мегън (do you see how boring my name is now?) is too difficult for these Bulgarians. "Megi," I said, "you should utilize this young man's English language skills." Pepi, my neighbors oldest son, is also one of my students.

So I asked him, "Как е 'mouse' на Булгарски?"
He answers, and of course I can't remember it now, something like, 'mishka.'

So I tell his mother, in Bulgarian that I have a mouse. This becomes all the drama. She tells dyado (grampa), then her husband. They decide that first they'll give me a trap. If that doesn't work, they'll give me a cat. If that doesn't work, we'll set out poison. If that doesn't work, there's a gun upstairs, hahaha. eeehhhh, okaaayyyy...

So, now I have a mouse trap. Either mice in Bulgaria are a lot more hungry, a lot less intelligent, or this thing ain't gonna work! Wish me luck!

Oh, as I was going over this very long story, my landlady came over. Now I have a cat, which I'm supposed to let out in the morning, for which I'm supposed to put out a bit of bread, who knows this region, and will tell me about my mouse once she finds it. mmm, mmkaayyyy... So now you can wish me luck with the mouse and with the cat.

Summer is Over

Andy, me, Ned and Ethan hanging out at the pool above Krichim. Andy titled this pic, "The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love," from an old PC slogan.

So this picture, this is an example of my summer. Beautiful mountains, having fun, relaxing, learning, great friends, swimming, tanning, eating, chilling. It couldn't be any better. Then we moved from Trainees to Volunteers. Then we moved away from our families. Then we lived and worked and communicated on our own. Alright, so I live in Razlog now and I'm not complaining. I have a great school with all new windows! I had colleagues and a director who genuinely care. I have a flat with cable internet and TV. I have a GSM and can (and do) send lots of text messages. I don't have it so bad!

The summer, the part of the summer I spent in Razlog, went very slowly. I really did not find much to do. I went to school. Of course, this is summer so teachers are on vacation. The teachers on duty would sit around and drink coffee with me. They'd talk in their typical Razlogshki dialect and my head would spin. On bad days I'd only spend a couple hours with them. On good days when I was all over this crazy language and the teachers seemed patient with me, we'd chill way past lunch. The rest of the day I would cook, go to the internet club, go to the gym, or sit and watch Bulgarian TV.

After such an exciting summer, I'm sure the rhythm of school will bring things back down to a more mellow pace... HAAAA. There is nothing rhythmic OR mellow about school here. But I love it. There was so much chaos in the 15 days leading up to the start of school. I'm sure there still is. We still don't have text books. I still don't have class rosters. I only learn my schedule one day at a time. Once I'm in the classroom with those kids and I am doing what I know I am capable of, teaching English and hanging out with (less teachery for "managing") these young people. I have had 6 classes in three days (not much, I know) and I've not yet left a class with out a smile. Oh, I know I could be teaching better. I know I could be making better lesson plans, executing them better, communicating better. I know. But I'm doing alright. I can tell my students are having fun. I am having fun. And I'm pretty sure we are all learning. That's what the Peace Corps is all about, right?

All the Krichim volunteers with my host family at our "thank you" dinner party. Becca, Ethan, Gulchen, Ozhgune, Villi, Ned, me, and Andy. 

Me, my host sisters, and my host mom at a"thank you" dinner party in Krichim.

Catharsis (SP?)

I write this and I want it to make me feel better. I want to spill out my pain in ink and expect my soul to hurt less. Perhaps if I weren't a drama queen, like the world is "intensely felt prose," written just for me. Perhaps if I could for one day, for one hour "love the questions themselves." Perhaps if I could accept what I have with out worrying about what I don't have. "We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow." Then what? Then I wouldn't be this spastic, emotional girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, but can't explain it. I wouldn't be me. Yet I do not justify my obsessive affliction of worry. It is part of me, a part of me that probably will never go away, like alcoholism never leaves its afflicted, but the alcoholic does not have to remain a drunk. We must just work harder at avoiding what comes so easily to us. For years God has been teaching me that I worry, rely on myself, and find comfort in many things beside him first. Thank God, my lessons have always had other rewards: friendships, knowledge, experience, strength. If the reward is given in correlation to the lesson, I'm due for something great -- now or later.

Proverbs 3:1-8

1) My child, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments, 2) for they will provide a long and full life, and they will add well-being to you. 3) Do not let truth and mercy leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. 4) Then you will find favor and good understanding, in the sight of God and people. 5) Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own understanding. 6) Acknowledge him in all your ways, and he will make your paths straight. 7) Do not be wise in your own estimation; fear the Lord and turn away from evil. 8) This will bring healing to your body, and refreshment to your inner self.

These verses are the first (particularly 5) that I can recall from my developing days of faith. That is, of course, outside John 3:16 and the Lord's Prayer. This was the verse plastered all over our house. This was the verse that made sense in my soul before I understood what my soul was. Funny how some lessons take a lifetime to learn. It is amazing that in all these years of faith (I know I am young), this one lesson God has been so gently trying to teach me and I have been so stubbornly trying my own means first. What patience does our God have!? I don't suppose I'll ever master the skill of disciplining my flesh to rely first on the Lord rather than indulging in myself. While I won't stop trying, I won't beat myself up either, since perfection is not attainable in this present world. I will- I do praise God for gently showing me again that my only solace is in Him.

Though sorrow may last for the night, His joy comes in the morning!!

These weeks of being alone -- no friends, no family, no church, no dogs (hey, I'm serious); feeling useless, unneeded, and inadequate; suffering from confusion, lack of structure and reliability --have taught me that never in my life have I truly been alone. Those moments I struggled with loneliness, I always had an earthly comfort to console me, at least in part. I am learning here to rely completely and firstly on my savior to be my comforter.

Psalm 139... I am not alone, cannot hide, created and designed, and praising my God.

What is life like in Bulgaria?

What is life like in Bulgaria? I could tell you about the random adventures I get into, stranded at bus stations, or meandering through unknown cities following vague directions I half-understand because I've adopted the Bulgarian "spokoino" (relax!) attitude. Or I could tell you about the Bulgarian sense of generosity. About the family that opened their home and hearts to me so that now I am Kakata (the biggest sister) of two families. About the babi (grandmothers) who have showered me with their kisses, hugs, and fresh veggies. Or I could tell you about the Beauty to be found here. Beauty in the mountains who send down a cool breeze every evening. Beauty found in the weddings which last all day and include dancing in the streets and rejoicing with friends and family for hours. Beauty in the face of bebe and baba (baby and grandma) playing in the street. Beauty in the toothless smile of the cleaning lady at school as she calls me a village girl and pinches my 23 going on 5 year old cheeks, because I have my hair back in two French braids. I could tell you about the wonder of God that can be experienced here. How wonderful it is to stand in a room filled with the smoke from honey candles burnt in worship of God, watching people worship in the same way and in the same place their people have been worshipping Him for centuries. How wonderful it is to review Bible stories on the ceiling of monasteries with wonderful friends. How wonderful it is to share this unique Bulgarian experience with friends, knowing we share something that is so limited, in many ways. How wonderful it is to hear the thunder crash and knowing that on the other side of the mountain, someone else feels that same crash and we feel the electricity of it just the same. But telling you these things will not do justice to Bulgarian life, or my experience. Sadly, my feeble words cannot describe life in Bulgaria. So just know that this is an adventurous, generous, beautiful, and wonderful nation and I am daily increasingly proud to be here. Know that I am thankful for being taught my fears are real emotions, but they are never enough to keep me from my dreams, and that dreams are seeds God places in your heart so that he may grown them into fruit. Know that like no other time in my life, I am mixed up in loneliness, pride, joy, satisfactions, and loneliness (oh, have I mentioned that?) in such a way that I would never change the experiences I've had thus far. My life- Bulgaria.

Music in the Night

Generally, as I lie in my bed, the gentle breeze from the mountain cools the heat of the day. The murmer of the little river across the street is my lullaby as it tenderly tickles the rocks that cradle it in. Tonight is different however. Tonight I cannot hear the little river. Tonight the roaring of traditional Macedonian music bellows into my room like smoke pours out of a room devastated by flames. It would seem the vastness outside my window is not enough for the percussive melodies of the drum and the harmonies of the gaida and clarinet type instruments. No, they must escape to my room and fill my dreams. I will dream that I am not lying in my bedroom, alone and sleepy. I am below, where the music is. Vish! Look! It is not only the drunk old dyados from my mahala! The whole mahala is out. We horo and for once, I know all of the steps. When I miss-step, my neighbors giggle and sqeeze my hands. When the music stops we drink ice cold water and rakia. But we are not allowed to rest. the rhythm of the drum starts my feet again. Slowly the pounding increases in volume and intensity, frequency. Our feet move in such harmony- this ground has been stomped on in this same pattern for thousands of years. Before the communists, before the Turks, before Byzantium, before Christ, this ground was sacred. Here we danced. Here we will dance for years to come. This is Bulgaria, the rhythm, the melody, the harmony, the steps, the tradition.

Not Alone

Perhaps some folks are, but I am quite decidedly not meant to live my life alone. There was a while when I thought I would be quite alright if I am never meant to marry. After this little bit of time living alone, it is not a state in which I've been created to find contentment. I gain so much enjoyment and completion by being around people, sharing myself with them, nurturing and caring for them. When I am left alone after the bustle of activity I realize little else than that I've been left alone. I spent some time with a friend this weekend talking about, exploring the most important matters in our world. We spent a considerable amount of time talking about God, religion, the state of the Church, the path to faith. I feel so thankful to my God for these talks. I'm grateful for the chance to talk with my friend. I'm so grateful for the motivation to be distracted from myself, in a way that makes me think of the person with whom I am talking and really process my own thoughts. I need other people in a way I did not realize, or did not want to recognize. I for so long have thought of life as if I am going through it in this Christian meets existentialist paradigm. It is just me, and God, against the world. Other people come in and out of my life - some may help, some may hurt, some both. But at the end of the day we are all fighting for ourselves, except I am fighting with God. So it does not - or at least it should not - hurt so badly when someone else's battle wounds me. I am at the point today where I know these things: 1) God is fighting with me; 2) We are not fighting against the rest of the world; 3) It is not a weakness to long for company; 4) It is okay to not understand, to not believe, and to not be fully comforted in all these things I think, or have been taught I ought to understand, believe, and be comforted in.

I was recently stranded at a bus station with a friend. Why, I do not know, but the opportunity to truly communicate and share my feelings and concerns with a friend whom I know cares was agonizing. I wanted to talk, to share, but the moment was too painful. So I spent most of the time listening and later reflecting. My friend spoke of recognizing his lack of confidence and I began to think about my own level of confidence in different areas of my life. I first realized that my confidence in my ability to creatively thrive in this new town, country, culture is seriously lacking. This is a strange and normal thing. Normal because I have lived most of my life on the mid to low point on the confidence spectrum. Strange because when I began this PC experience my confidence in my abilities, personality, and intellect were quite boosted. Now, as I've been put out alone, I am strangely quite insecure. The worst of it is that I know better, and when I remind myself that I am capable, I feel worse for not feeling better!

Talking with an atheist friend who envied the comfort available from my faith in God, I realized a destructive thought pattern. I confessed to my friend that not only do I not take advantage of that comfort (like many Christians who get caught up in the pride of self-sufficiency), but when I realize my arrogance, I beat myself up for being a 'lousy Christian.' Instead of recognizing my 'error' and moving closer to God, I back farther away into my self-pity. Then I wonder why I do not have a better attitude! This goes back to the self-confidence mess because as a Christian, I cannot be confident in myself apart from my confidence in God. So as I grow farther from Him, I lose faith in myself because I am not daily, hourly being reminded of His faith in me, His creation. By no means do I lose faith in Him as I become weaker, but weakness is from not seeking strength. How tragic that I have yet do not use. How should anyone be attracted to God through me if I do not shine of Him?

Random Ramblings

I have really nothing to say, but I have really not much to do so I'm blogging from this cheap internet connection while listening to Matt Kearney musing kindly in my ears. So my Bulgarian life... what is it like here?

Here are the basics: Quality of life is quite decent here and the cost of living is considerably less than in the states. For a Peace Corps Volunteer, life is pretty good. I have a decent (over using the word, I know) flat in a town of about 13,000. Razlog is smack in between Pirin, Rila, and the Rhodope Mountains. It is fantastically beautiful. Beyond words really. The quality of housing varies greatly within each town and even more greatly within cities and regions. I don't think that in this country, where quite adequate housing is available, PC would allow us to live in anything less that safe and secure. Food is interesting here. It seems that kitchen conviniences are not quite considered here. Funny because most folks can afford better stoves, they just don't buy them. It is more important to spend extra time preparing each meal, but save money for a family vacation, or entertaining guests. It is a real priority statement.

Here, I live in a flat with a bedroom, a bathroom (note on BG baths... we don't so much have a shower as it is known in the states. There is simply a showerhead in the bathroom. People use tile in their kitchens and bathrooms always, and frequently in the rest of the house, so it is just more convenient to not build the extra walls for a shower.) and a kitchen/dining room/living room. I have a very old stove, a refrigerator, a washing machine so old I'm afraid to use it, a television with a cable from my neighbor. My neighbor is my landlord. This flat is not, as is common, part of a soviet style block building. I live on the second floor of a multi-family home. Baba and Dyado (gramma and grampa) live on the first floor. Their son, his wife, and their two teenage boys live on the third floor. Their sons will likely be my students in the fall. You'd think all of these conveniences would make me feel quite at home.

I guess the culture shock only set in once I left the cozy training. It is difficult now, but I'm keeping up a decent attitude. I have few folks to whom I whine and complain in sorry emails, but after I rant a bit I usually feel much better. The most challenging problem I face right now is simply not having much structure... in my living arrangement, work schedule, diet, anything. That's tough for me. We're getting there.

I believe I've racked up this internet bill enough for today. I, as always, welcome your emails and comments. Sorry for a crummy post. I just needed to post and haven't anything valuable to say. Love and kisses from snow capped July mountains!

Loving the distances...

"Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up if they succeed in loving the distance between them, which makes it possible for each to see the other against a wide sky." Rainer Maria Rilke

I absolutely love this quote, and one day while I was quite alone a pondered on it...

To rephrase, we cannot fully love eachother until we love the space in between eachother. We must fall in love with the differences -- those things about eachother that can make us feel so far apart. What a liberal concept for this conservative girl. I do conceed that humanity has had tremendous difficulties seeing the distances without fear and abomination. These spaces have been the causes and results of great wars, great problems, and a great deal of apathy, which is far more dangerous than the most venomous hate.

So what is a girl such as myself to do? I love -- I love with an unaffected, ineffective love. My love is talk -- all men are created in the image of the Lord. Jesus is alive in the hearts of all men. But does my behavior reflect this radical love? Have I ever really loved someone "unloveable?"

How does the love of the distance effect my more personal relationships? There are certain distances which seem like wide gaping abyses. We stand on the precipece and gauge the distance to the other side. We try to construct bridges using only those objects which are quickly at our disposal. There are so many more methods than we recognize. So perhaps I should begin to peer into these distances not with a longing to dive but to understand them, to know the person on the other side more deeply. I should understand these distances which are between us. Why must I consider these distances so inexcusable? Perhaps even in my cotrolled and deliberate form of love I can begin to look into the distances more as if they are beautiful lakes countaining bounty within and many ways to be traveled and explored, rather than as an empty abyss with nothing to offer a soul and no way to be bridged.

In the midst of the storm

I now know why the ancient greeks believed gods ruled them from atop a mountain with bolts of lightning and claps of thunder. Sitting under a giant umbrella at an outdoor cafe in my pleasant mountain town I watched -- experienced -- a fantastic thunderstorm. Here in the Pirin Mountains the thunder shouts with such a voice that sends a shot of adreneline directly to your heart. For that moment, in which you must decide if that is God speaking or the weather coming off of Pirin, your heart stops entirely, the restats in double time. Those adreneline induces endorphins float to your toes just long enough for you to forget you are alone in this town. Perhaps coming down from this rush is like any other. The previous pain still remains.

I do not want to be whiny-lonely girl -- I think I will love this place. But for today, I cling to the next chance to speak in English with a friend. I will disregard common courtesy to read and respond to an SMS from another lonely volunteer (Absnese must truly make the heart grow fonder- now we friends of less than three months are reminding each other of our love and mutual sense of missing). I would pay double its value for an internet connection in my flat. After a phone call from a Bulgarian English speaking friend who promises to visit in a month, I jump up and down for joy. This is loneliness.

I killed a giant spider last night. In America, I would have first gotten my father. Not here? Get the vaccuum cleaner and such the jerk into spider oblivion. Oh, I haven't got a vaccuum cleaner (here, the Bulgarian word for vaccuum cleaner literally translated is 'dust sucker'). Now this guy was big, too big to smash with my flimsy TP. He got a shoe to the wall, then cleaned off with toilet paper. Fifteen minutes later I had to pound on my back door to chase off the cats having outrageously loud sex on my back porch. It was obscene. I am truly living on my own.

Its not so bad. I've inquired about the gym here and will start working out soon. I should be getting cable internet in my flat in the next week as well. I have other Americans with in two hours travel. Best of all, I know God is my strength and anywhere I am, He is near to me and providing for my next step. That is just hard to remember sometimes. That God I am in a beautiful country, with a great PC staff and a group from which I will gain life-lasting friendships.
Vcichko Hubavo and Chao from the heart of the Balkans.

No man is an island

"Ask not for whom the bell tolss, it tolls for thee... No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. Any man's death diminishes me, beacuse I'm involved in mandkind." Quote from poetry of John Donne

Its a strange feeling when you are in so many ways quite alone, but there is comfort in knowing first that there is a God who is providing and protecting and who has lived this life; and second, while no human being will live my life exactly, and I can never truly understand the life of another, we do share something with all of humanity. This life it its constant cycle, this Dantean wheel of fate has certain common elements that no man will ever avoid. with those unpleasantries of human experience come the divine joys that only we blessed humans have the great capacity to fully appreciate. The stages of man are many and varried but liken to all men. There is comfort. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, but acknowledge that it tolls. For you and I it tolls. Every time.

Too much to say

I am afraid I have so much to say, so much going on, that it has become overwhelming to actually explain completely my life here in Bulgaria. We are quickly winding down our pre-service training (PST). It is ridiculous to think that in less than one month I will be at my permanent site... The place I will work for the next two years of my life. This experience is still very surreal. I live in a wonderful little town. I am very busy... studying, teaching, socializing. I very much feel part of the community. Obicham Krichim (It actually rhymes, and means "I love Krichim" - our training site). Sometimes life gets lonely. The other trainees here, our language trainer, our host families, they are all friends now. Nearly family really. But it's as though I've begun a new life... It's wonderful, but not the same. There are things (not things really... feelings, comforts) I wish I could bring here without changing life at all. Completely impossible.

I hope you don't mind my complete lack of sentence structure. I really am not interested in forming accurate sentences and paragraphs. I just want to explain. Have a great June!!! Please keep in touch... I know I don't write back usually, but I get your emails and love it!

Quickly from Krychim

Well, you will once again have to forgive my inadequate blogging... I was placed in a great little town called Krychim. I had two very decent journals typed up and burned onto a CD. I am at an internet club and the computers do not allow for any input other than the keyboard, so this will have to suffice.

There are five of us in Krychim. We are having a good time and get along very well. I am quite tired most of the time. I live with a very social family. I am not getting the best taste of Bulgarian cuisine, but I do get several WONDERFUL Turkish meals each day. Bulgarian acquisition is going alright. I'm getting along better than I thought it would. Someone accused me of being the "class star" today. I quickly answered with a very hardy "NE" (no in Bulgarian, pronounced ney). I'm just the guinea pig I think.

Hopefully soon I will be able to post better blogs. I am amazingly sorry, to those who are bothered, that my grammar is anything other than perfect. I do wish I had the time to spend so much time on criticism, but I would probably spend it on literature rather than my "just to stay in touch, not so professional" blog. To each his own.

I hope you are all doing well and am glad to hear from you.

Two nights in Chicago

It has been a very long day, but I am now in a very cozy bed enjoying for perhaps one of the last times the modern conveniences of wi-fi, western toilets, air conditioning, and everlasting hot water.

I am at a staging event at the Hampton Inn + Suites in downtown Chicago. I have actually never been to Chicago before, so this has been quite an experience. I am sure I did not look like the sharpest knife in the drawer as I walked down the sidewalk outside terminal 3 with my two rolling suitcases, backpack, and briefcase. I used a van service from the airport to the hotel (new experience). When the driver told me his services could be rendered for $23, I thought it was a bit exorbitant. Then I learned how atrocious Chicago traffic is!

After a long morning of traveling, I was in for a long afternoon of introductions. When I got to the hotel, the rooms were not ready. Everyone put their luggage in one room and headed on to our conference room. After the longest mixer session I've ever experienced, I still know hardly anyone's name. From 3 to 7 we had session after session on basic Peace Corps information that did more to frighten and unnerve me with new things to worry about than relieve my fears.

Gladly, I did have some time to have fun in Chicago. I did finally get into my room and find out who my roommate is. We ended up with a few others going to a jazz restaurant/bar. PC gave each of us money, so we didn't worry too much about the bill. Between 5 of us, we raked up a bill of $120. That's really not too bad when I stop and think about it.

Thank God, I'm safe and sound in Chicago. This group of Volunteers is very friendly so I'm sure we'll have a good time together. While it is nerve wracking, I am excited about all that is to come. Keep praying for me.

ThankYou!

I just want to thank everyone for the surprise party! Molly, Mom -- thanks for putting it together! Love ya!