Your Greatest Fear?

On Crossing Jordan tonight, Lilly’s mom was hit by a car and died.  

Do you have a greatest fear?  One of those fears that, when you don’t have any really good thoughts to mill about in your head at night before you go to sleep, begins to creep into your mind and run your imagination ragged?  Do you have one of those fears which sends you into nightmares from which you wake up crying?

I had always thought that “to wake up crying” was an exaggeration.  A few months ago I woke up from an incredibly vivid dream with tears soaking my pillow.  I have had nightmares, when I was younger, that were so frightening that upon waking up I began to cry.  However, I had never been so taken in by a dream – a nightmare – that in the midst of it I cried.  It’s not a good way to wake up.  Now, I cannot remember the exact story of this dream, but I do remember the general outcome.  It is the same as the nightmares made me cry when I woke from them.  They were about my mother.  Dying.

My mother is not dead, but I have this huge paranoia that my mother will die before I’m ready.  How sad is that?  First, it’s silly to think that a person is ever ready for their parent to die.  Second, it’s selfish for me to have some obsession when such terrible things are happening around me.  And I’m worried my mom is going to get murdered or something…

I’ve never talked with my mom about these things.  And she didn’t give me permission to share the following private details.  I hope she doesn’t get upset, but I think she’ll cope.

A few weeks ago my mom sent me an email telling me that her doctor had found a five inch mass on her right ovary.  She went in to the doctor’s because she felt like she had “something moving around inside.”  Blood work was done and it showed there was no cancer present.  She and her doctors decided that it would be best to not only remove the ovary, but to perform a complete hysterectomy.  They did this last Monday.  That night my father called to say she came out of surgery fine and her doctor says the mass looked normal.  The next day I talked to my mom.  She said the same thing.

When I talked to my father I was elated.  I jumped around my flat as soon as we hung up.  

When I talked to my mother I felt dejected and alone.  I felt like a terrible child.  I kicked myself for being on the other side of the world, yet again, as my mother is going through a painful and difficult time.  Mom refused to let me consider flying home though.  What could I have really done?

Today, eight days after my mom’s surgery, she is still in some pain.  She is still suffering some nasty side effects.  I don’t even want to begin to consider all the ways her life will change from this very important operation.  Today, the pathology reports came back on the cells taken from her mass.  As it turns out, there were some “borderline” cells.  

When I received the email with these newest pieces of information I was crushed all over again, but not in quite the same way.  I cried not so much for the threat of my mother’s health, but for this emotional roller-coaster she is on.  I cried because I know she must be crying these days.  I cried because I see myself so great in my mother’s eyes, and to imagine her going through this with out me is torture because I just don’t know how she can be doing it.  But I am fooling myself only.  No one believes that I am the strong one.

I don’t pretend to understand the medical bits.  I don’t understand how blood work showed nothing, and it looked fine, but now it seems there is some cancer.  And I don’t understand how, if before the test said there was no cancer, further tests will be any kind of reliable.  But I guess it’s not for me to understand.  

So, what’s your greatest fear?

Smells like winter

Walking home from one of the last evening coffees outside, I recognized the smell of winter. People have started lighting their wood stoves, causing the air to have that haze that makes the sunset all the more brilliant as it falls over the mountains, not yet draped in white. Folks here are still preparing for winter. Last minute canning involves a huge pot, more like a cauldron really, lit from below with a wood fire. On the side of the road, near the river, across from the homes, flowers are still bright and healthy. Above them a few meters, the leaves are beginning to change to orange-rust-yellow. Don't they know, they'll just fall in a month? Some will still be clinging to the branch when that first snow comes in November.

I'm hoping for a better winter this year. So far, everything else is better than last year. The crisis, conflicts, drama, and debates are not foreseen. I know my way around this landscape a little better. I have friends and support here. I have people who really care about me this year. No way but up right?

School and Hallmark Movies

The new school year began today. It began with all of the "normal" celebrations. All the students lined up in their classes, arranged by age. At the end, the twelfth graders walked in the building hand-in-hand with the first graders. It was sweet. Some how, I felt a bit of sadness at the thought of this year... my last everything in Bulgaria, with these kids.

The start of a new year, but I really don't feel like analyzing my life and preparing emotionally for this year.

I hate how "Hallmark" movies set up two situations, and the protagonist in one situation learns from the lessons of the other protagonist's crisis of years gone by. Or how two characters, with some strong bond- father/son, sisters, mother/daughter, etc -deal with their own independent issues and somehow, through their own failings help eachother to heal. It's so unrealistic. But then, I guess we're not supposed to really believe in the movies.

Did you know?

I realized that I remember hearing about the crisis in Somalia when I was young. I remember seeing the pictures of the starving babies with distended bellies. I vaguely remember not exactly of Mogadishu, but of an armed forces movement- of something beyond peaceful shipments of food and medical aide. This was before the genocide in Rwanda.

Did you know there is fighting again in Mogadishu?

"The 2nd Battle of Mogadishu started in May 2006. The battle is being fought between the Alliance for the Restoration of Peace and Counter-Terrorism or "ARPCT" and militia loyal to Islamic Courts Union or "ICU". The conflict began in mid-February. As of June 5th, at least 350 people, mostly civilians, have died caught in the crossfire. Mogadishu residents described it as the worst fighting in more than a decade of lawlessness. The Islamists blame the U.S. for funding warlords in an attempt to prevent them gaining power in the lawless country through its Central Intelligence Agency. The U.S. government and the CIA have neither admitted nor denied these allegations.

The Somali transitional government president Abdullahi Yusuf told the BBC the alliance of warlords is not fighting on behalf of the government.

On 5 June 2006, it was reported that members of the Islamic Militia had taken control of Mogadishu, and Prime Minister Ali Mohammed Ghedi was seeking to open a dialog with them. Four powerful warlords who had been serving as ministers had been sacked.[1] On 14 June 2006 the last ARPCT stronghold in the south, the town of Jowhar, fell with little resistance to the ICU. Reports had the remaining ARPCT forces fleeing to the east. As of this date the alliance appears near collapse with three warlords having withdrawn and a fourth reported to be considering joining them. The transitional government has approved the intervention of foreign peacekeepers. On 7 July forces in Mogadishu loyal to the last active member of the Alliance, Abdi Qeybdid, surrendered leaving the ICU in control of 99% of the capital.[2]

On July 20, 2006, it was reported by the BBC that a column of 100 Ethiopian military vehicles including armoured personnel carriers had crossed from the Ogaden region of Ethiopia and into Somalia. This followed advances made by Islamic Courts Union forces who had advanced to within 60km of the town of Baidoa. Further reports stated that Ethiopian troops had been seen in uniform on the streets of Baidoa. The Ethiopian government denies its forces have entered Somalia.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somalia

Battle to Beauty

Hasarder asked for pictures of the shell art that I mentioned on her blog. Here they are love...
This is one of the most difficult blogs I've ever written.
These are shells from the war in Bosnia. These shells were found all over Sarajevo and turned into artwork for people to purchase. I was a bit hesitant to post these because I don't want to appear to be one of those people who like to collect disgusting things. To me, it is remembrance and I can only hope that the people who make and sell these feel the same way. We must remember the war in the former Yugoslavia. But friends, I have to tell you something very alarming. It is being remembered in bitterness, hate, and rage all over the world. I can only pray that by saying I bought these remnants of the war that I'll remember the tragedy and pray for healing.

I was eating dinner with some friends recently. At the table were two Americans and three Bulgarians. The Americans were women. The Bulgarians were two men and one woman. I suppose the topic of the war in Bosnia came up because I had recently returned from visiting it. These words came out of someone's mouth, "We supported Serbia. We don't like Muslims."

They echo between my ears and the reverberation makes my heart ache, "We supported Serbia. We don't like Muslims."

This calls to my memory a conversation my mother and I had while we were in Sarajevo. We were visiting the brother and his wife of a friend of my mother. We sat in a beautifully renovated apartment on the top floor of a block only a few hundred meters off Sniper Alley. He told us how people say Sarajevo looks so healed. It is so well renovated, remodeled. "Nothing has changed here. Bosnia is ready for war again."

"Bosnia is ready for war again."

When my Bulgarian friends declared their alliance with the Serbian position and their dislike of Muslims, I held my tongue. I couldn't argue with them. I couldn't tell them that the most love I've received in this country is from my Muslim friends and family here. I couldn't tell them that lowering themselves to such base hatred makes them lesser creatures than their own perception of the people who are objects of their low emotions. I couldn't explain how the war in Bosnia was much more complicated than just religious tensions. But it's what I wanted to say.

I watched Hotel Rwanda last night. I had to stop it occasionally and use the food on the stove as an excuse to take a break from the intensity of the film. When it was over I laid on my couch and sobbed. SOBBED. I was 13 years old in 1994.

A 13 year old girl in America can tell you about the private lives of her favorite film and pop stars. She has begun sexually maturing and has likely had a sexual experience if not intercourse. She knows about fashion. She knows how to find friends all over the internet. She knows the latest gossip in Hollywood. She's aware of the president's latest scandal, but nothing of his politics. She may know the name of her state governor, and perhaps what political party he aligns himself with. She probably cannot tell you what a senator is.

All I ever knew of the war in Bosnia was from the Cranberries song, "Sarajevo." I didn't know ANYTHING ANYTHING about Rwanda.

As I laid on my couch last night and sobbed, I cried outloud, "How come I never knew? I was thirteen years old." When the war in Rwanda ended I was thirteen years old and I knew nothing about it. Who's fault is that? My parents? The media? My own? The UN?

It's the world's responsibility to stay aware. To educate each other.

In my elective classes this year, I'll be doing units on genocide. I will include Rwanda, Kosovo, Bosnia, Afghanistan. My students do not know. If you know of any websites with lesson plans on these topics then please email me. If you have any books on these topics which are not terribly difficult to read, please mail them to me (I'll give you my mailing address).

If you have a story WRITE IT!!
If you have a picture SHOW IT!!
If you have a song SING IT!!

MAKE SURE THE WORLD KNOWS!

Mom would kill me...

But she can't because she's in Tennessee, USA and I am in Razlog, Bulgaria. However there was a time when she was here in Bulgaria. And this is the best picture I have of the two of us together. Neither of us are really very photogenic. This is an example of how good I am at timer pictures. We took this outside the little church that claims to be built in the sixteen hundreds, and offers one piece of evidence that it was actually built in the eleven hundreds.

This little church is in Dobarsko, a tiny village outside my town. I was up there again this past week for an international youth exchange. One evening, I realized that the hills in Dobarsko where, at that moment, the most beautiful place on earth. I can't explain to you how unbelievably breathtaking it was. Perhaps it was a combination of things.

The day had been spent on a "survivor's game" in which we had to search the woods for cards dictating our fate. Each card announced either a food item such as bread or potatoes, or it required us to take a chance. When we chanced we had to face a challenge, generally of some team-building type activity. Succeed and we win a food item. Fail and we must sacrifice a food item or a team member. The element of this game that moved my heart in such a way that the simple beauty of the evening view was astonishing was not the team-building, but the way my student-friends organized and carried out this game so successfully.

I sat on a blue tarp. An American girl sitting with Bulgarians, Italians, Czechs, and Hungarians. All of us on a big blue tarp enjoying the sun and acknowledging the beauty of the valley below and the setting sun.

Perhaps a beautiful thing is more beautiful when the people you would most love to share it with aren't there with you. You simple can't work up the words to describe the twinkling of the villages below and the stars above. The way the sun goes down behind one hill and the full moon shines bright orange from behind the opposite hills. How can I describe that kind of beauty? I can only wish you had been there.

I'm writing you to catch you up on places I've been
You held this letter
probably got excited, but there's nothing else inside it
didn't have a camera by my side this time
hoping I would see the world through both my eyes
maybe I will tell you all about it when I'm
in the mood to lose my way with words
TODAY skies are painted colors of a cowboy cliche'
And strange how clouds that look like mountains in the sky
are next to mountains anyway
Didn't have a camera by my side this time
Hoping I would see the world through both my eyes
Maybe I will tell you all about it when I'm
in the mood to lose my way
but let me say
You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes
it brought me back to life
You'll be with me next time I go outside
NO more 3x5's
I Guess you had to be there
I Guess you had to be with me
Today I finally overcame
tryin' to fit the world inside a picture frame
Maybe I will tell you all about it when I'm in the mood to
lose my way but let me say
You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes
it brought me back to life
You'll be with me next time I go outside
no more 3x5's
just no more 3x5's

"3x5" -John Mayer

Dubrovnik and her Islands

I was so addicted to taking pictures through the city walls. This is the old harbor. Cool. 
These are my feet on a boat. This boat took me to three different islands on the coast of Dubrovnik. You can't tell it from this picture, but one of my ankles is fatty swollen from being sprained by a huge klutz!  
Dubrovnik city wall from the sea... ohhh, can I tell you how amazing it was to sit on a boat and feel the salt air all over my skin? To be cool and hot at the same time? To feel so refreshed? Perfect. 
This is one of the little islands we visited. I can't remember if this is the one on which I laid out for hours or if this is the one where I took a refreshing but quick little hop in the water. Either way, it was nice.  

Dubrovnik is Perfect

The first full day we were there, Mom and I walked the city wall with a little hand speaker that told us about what we could see from each of the twenty something locations. This picture was taken from above the Pile entrance, which is the entrance with the drawbridge, if you've been. It looks out on the Franciscan Church, the main walking street, and at the other end, the city clock tower and the entrance to the old harbor.  
Dubrovnik, and I suppose most sea coast towns, has this perfect humidity. It's not like the humidity in the South that suffocates you with moisture. It's a kind of humidity that, when the salt water blows in with the wind, helps your body to cool off. I can't explain it. I've lived on the coast before, but I guess the Pacific and the Adriatic are a bit different.  
Mom and I travelled from Sarajevo to Dubrovnik with a college friend, Rachel. She works there and had access to a car. A suburban actually. You can't imagine the looks on the firemen sitting outside as five women drive by in a huge late 90s Suburban. Anyway. We took this big beast down, me and the mom, my friend Rachel, her roommate, and a friend of hers who lives in Mostar (more pics of that sometime). Rachel was going to stay with us in Dubrovnik and the other two were going to have dinner and return to Mostar. Rachel wasn't feeling well, so she returned with the other two. It worked out better, Rae, we had a crummy room, and it was too hot for you. This is the sunset on that first night. We parked above the city wall, above most of the city- which is on a hill. It was a georgious night.  
Another picture from the city wall. I just loved how they put decorative or symbolic elements on the outside of the wall. I'm not sure which saint this guy represents, but he is facing the sea. I just thought it was a cool shot.   

Meggie and the former Yugoslavia!

Me and Rachel in Sarajevo, in front of a lovely fountain. The park behind us became Muslim burrial grounds because there were few safe places to bury the dead durring the war. In front of us there is memorialized shell damage on the sidewalk.
At the cemetary in Sarajevo the Muslims, the Orthodox, and even a small patch of Protestant are burried together. This is the place where the the Muslim and the Christian graves come together. This is a huge cemetary and all the gravestones you can see show lives that ended between 1990 and 1996
These are my little feetsies in a river that goes under the old bridge in Mostar, Bosnia. This bridge was destroyed durring the war but rebuilt.
This is the bridge upon which Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand and his wife were assassinated, thus beginning the first world war. In the back ground is an example of the way Sarajevo is a beautiful and tragic desplay of Austro-Hungarian, Communist, and Ottoman (but not shown here) archeticture which has been damaged or destroyed, rebuilt, lived in, died in, but surviving several awful wars.

More later from Dubrovnik and other places along my crazy journey!! 

Ohhh vacation

It's 6:31am in Sofia, Bulgaria. My mother and I are packing up our bags and getting ready to head to the Central Bus Station. From here we will travel to Niche, Serbia. At 9pm we will leave Niche and head to Sarajevo, Bosnia. I am beyond excited to see this city recently ravaged by a war I know little about. A college friend who now lives in the city will pick us up at the bus station at 7am tomorrow, when we are scheduled to arrive. On Saturday we will head to Dubrovnik, Croatia and return to Sarajevo on Monday evening. Again, excited is not a strong enough word to express my feelings about seeing this city rich with history and culture. I hope to visit some of the islands there, and enjoy the beauty of the Adriatic Sea.

Pictures to follow...

ahh summer

Hoorah for summer! I love it. It's simply georgeous! I slept in a bit, went to a colleagues for coffee and cherries. The most pressing thing on my schedule today is to cheer on France at ten pm with some friends. This time last year however, well... нищо общо nothing in common.

Things I love about my life right now:
I love my girlfriends! I love that, while last year I had people to support me, and would not trade that friendship for the world, they have all evolved and changed and now I have some amazing new friendships.

I love my colleagues! I love that I can count on my counterpart, best bulgofriend, colleague, and comraid in Razlogshki foreignness to help me, have fun with me, try new and silly things with me, cry with me, be excited for me, support me, and vice versa!! And I am so happy that after a year, I have finally been invited to a colleague's house, other than Yulia's (my CP) for na gosti!

I love new friends! I'll tell you three stories about new friends:
1) One Saturday night, Meggi went out in BigCity with her girlfriends and made a new friend. Another Saturday night she went out with newfriend in BigCity and met his old friends. Now Meggi has more friends!
2) One time Meggi went to a little town to be a "good PCV" and help the new teachers. She made five new friends there. Later she went to a very nice conference and met more new teachers. Later, when the new teachers promised to be good and faithful Peace Corps Volunteers, Meggi went out with some new teachers and some old teachers and some older teachers who had fulfilled their promises and were going home. She got stuck in a hail storm. She got so very wet in the rain that she had to wring out her skirt. She also had bruises on her little arms from the big mean hail stones. But it was a very fun night and a very exciting way to spend one's first or last night as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
3) One time Meggi went to BigCity to see an older teacher who was leaving Peace Corps. She hung out with the PCV who lives in BigCity and a Brit who leaves in a nearby village. She also hung out with newfriend. They all had a lot of fun together and even though older teacher is gone to more beautiful and peaceful places, Meggi is happy for her. It's okay because they got stranded in the hail together a few days later with out even planning to see each other! Now the village Brit is Meggi's new friend too!

I love cherry season!

I love my mom who will be here in 8 days!

I love watching soccer! er, football! er, european football!

I love wearing skirts and not being cold!

I love warm breezes!

I love that I used the system and the system worked for once! (thanks boss)

I love bacon and friend balls of mashed potatoes at the "Irish Pub" even though there's nothing Irish about the pub and the bacon is just thin strips of ham. It's still tasty!

Kay, that's all for today...

Nicole gets her Urban cowboy

Nicole gets her Urban cowboy

"Kidman has said she and Urban will set up home in Nashville when they return to the United States.

"'I've moved to Tennessee for my personal life,' she said last week. 'It's nice.'"



Maybe I'm a total sell out, but I'm excited about this new addition to the Nashville community. I don't know how Nashville thinks about it however. Perhaps because I think she's an amazing actress with her classic style. Perhaps it's because she has done two pieces with Baz Luhrmann (Moulin Rouge! and the Chanel perfume ad). Perhaps because she seems to be an actress who picks films that please her, not for the numbers (like Dogville). Or perhaps because she's just so dern pretty! **Note to all Kidman/Luhrmann fans, according to IMDb.com, the two are supposed to work on a film costarring Hugh Jackman! Production is supposed to start in Febuary of '07.

But, I'm not all promoting that yucky girl Paris Hilton's video. Sorry Lucia, but I don't see the beauty in that clip. I will say it's cool that she's got sand on her face. It's just too cliche, the whole beach scene thing. Then she tries to dance? Gimme a break! It reminds me of the JLo clip for "Control Myself" where she jumps up on whats-his-name in a not sexy way. And WHAT is that white thing she's wearing (paris, not JLo)? uck! Okay, I'm about to start criticizing Madonna's new clip, so I feel pretty confident I'm not a sell out.

A Glossary of Southern Accents

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!

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.

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.

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!

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)