¡Dios mío!

Where were you when I was learning spanish? That's a question I recently asked my brother. We didn't grow up in a bilingual household, but I have an entire catalogue of memories learning as much as I could. I wanted to understand what could cause my dad and the deli owner to laugh so hard. I sat in the kitchen pointing to things, mantequilla, leche, cocina, jugo de naranja slowly building my vocabulary. Something I think about frequently is how influential Spanish was in my life and now I struggle to remember simple words and phrases.

People back home ask me "So are you fluent in Bulgarian?" I never know how to answer that question. I respond with, "Well if there's something that needs to be said I can say it". Arguably my Bulgarian is better than my Spanish at this point but I still feel like I can express myself better in Spanish, not what I want, but what I feel. 

Love, hate, empathy, annoyance, the whole gamut of emotions were expressed to me in Spanish. CHANCLETAS!!!!! For you gringos who don't know, it's a slang word for slippers and God help me if my dad saw me without them on in the house. Pobrecito, will never have an English equivalent for me. When I'm sick and want my mom I say ¡Ayúdeme!. When I'm uncontrollably angry and frustrated it in class it's ¡Dios mío! or ¡Sientate!. I call my best friend here Chica. I know these words in Bulgarian, but they do not and cannot capture what I want to say.

Last month I started teaching Spanish after school to some of my more ambitious students, and my only regret is that I didn't start sooner. I feel like this is the first time I'm sharing part of who I am as an American and not just representing America. Part of what makes America so great is that we are all so different and yet we embrace and encourage those differences. I know that my time here is winding down but I sincerely hope that these girls will see that whether you're American, Bulgarian, or anything else we all have different stories to tell and different experiences to share. 

Oh yeah, listen to this. 

The Plastics Revolution | Light Of Day | A 'BlackXS Live Sound' Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

December 1st!

I have one major rule for winter. It can snow as far into spring as it wants as long as it DOESN'T SNOW BEFORE DECEMBER 1st. I hold my breath through the progressively darker and colder days of November hoping that what I see is just dirt specks in the air and not flurries. It's funny how easily the two can get confused.

So today I celebrated. I celebrated with the lack of snow, 3 weeks until I go home for Christmas, and the official start of my holiday season. Hello George Michael, I've missed you

Zheni Time

In the past year and a half there was something that I have been seriously missing. Zheni Time. Loosely translated that means time with my ladies, NO BOYS ALLOWED. The fact that I need my girl time still seems like something my 13 year old self would mock. I spent my formative years around boys in Warhammer craft shops in the Village. Um who said that? Starting in high school girl time was like a secret ritual. Sneaking into each other's rooms after lights out, hanging around if you shared the same free periods.  You know during girly stuff that you can't do when someone who isn't your best friend is around.
Zheni Time came at an opportune moment. One month into school, after the honeymoon period faded away when I learned that most of my classes worked on two volumes, Loud and "Good thing I keep tylenol in my desk"
Without Zheni Time loosing its mystique all I can divulge is that there were sweatpants, shopping, shameless dancing, eating that would probably a man never look at me the same way ever again, laughing, coffee drinking, libations, sleeping, and more eating.
I love Zheni Time
Lets do it again soon.

What a difference a year makes

For those of you who have patiently followed my ramblings for the past year + months, it is no secret or surprise that the first year of school was "challenging" I use that as a euphemism for MISERABLE. After an amazing summer of travels, friends, and a lack of stress I hit a serious depression wall when faced with the impending doom of September 15th.  Part of what I told myself I would do this year is stand up for myself. The atypical people pleaser, I knew that if I was going to stay in Bulgaria for another year I would have to find a way to make me happy. It ultimately came down to the choice of teaching 18 classes per week but teaching the 6th graders I taught last year again as 7th graders OR teaching 21 classes a week and working with a new batch of 6th graders. I had all of 30 seconds to make this decision so I went with the unknown. I know, it was tough, how was I to know if it would get any better?

I didn't. But it did.

For the first time I am at a loss of what to say. Usually I have tales of adversity, my struggles and what I've done to overcome them. Why my accomplishments, however small they may be, outweigh my setbacks, but after two days of school I have nothing to complain about. I hated, possibly envied, those volunteers here who loved their kids, loved their schools, talked about how great their lives were. We're all supposed to struggle through this together. It isn't supposed to be easy.

My first day of class I prepared for the worst. Fights. Name calling. Girls getting dragged out by their hair to fight in the bathroom. The normal things that happened during my first few weeks, if not days of school. Whereas I was hit with soda bottles, paper airplanes, and other various classroom weapons, this year I was shocked with their knowledge, enthusiasm, and good behavior. On my birthday, which today marks a lovely quarter century on this planet, I was presented with roses that a couple of girls picked for me. I've been told that I'm a good teacher. Last year it was all "I hate you" and "Kiss my penis".

If I even had one complaint about one of my 6th grade classes it is that one section is so ADD that they have trouble keeping on the task at hand. But they're kids! They are supposed to be inquisitive. Mind you the 8th graders are still as apathetic as ever. Learning is so not hot right now.

I know this is still only the beginning of the year but for the first time, in what feels like forever,  I am optimistic without it being a kind of blind optimism.

GAME ON.

It's the most wonderful time of the year?

Where has this summer gone? September 1st marks the first day of "work". I use that term loosely as it's barely an hour long meeting but classes get doled out and agendas discussed before everyone heads to the cafe. I take this time to zone out as my mind takes too long to process Bulgarian conversations out of context. Instead I play my favorite look busy past time anagram game by taking a word inspired by the place I currently am. For example, Director: Dire, tore, tire, rod, direct, cite, etc. etc. etc.
After this first meeting day we aren't at school again until the 15th with classes beginning on the 16th.
It's been almost 3 months since I've taught a lesson. Probably 4-5 months since I've had a full week of school. It's always at this time of year that this commercial pops into my head.


The beginning of the school year is one of those things that no one is ever ready for but part of me, the optimistic part of me, is ready to start. So the optimistic part of me also wants to talk why the coming months are going to be the best ones yet....
Cooler days=being able to drink coffee in the morning without breaking into a sweat.
Not sweating all the time. Living in a cement bloc doesn't allow for much ventilation.
The smell of Autumn and the smell of everyone turning on their wood burning stoves.
Pumpkin EVERYTHING
Cardigans and Blazers. What?
Not feeling guilty/being able to go to bed at 9pm.
CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS. Is that jumping the gun a bit?
So fare thee well summer. It's been fun. Play me out to this song

I saw America....and it was GLORIOUS

For those of you who don't know I took a brief hiatus from the BG and headed back to the land of the free and home of the brave. AMERICA.

The questions that most people seem to ask are generic but still the amazement that comes with it is genuine. 

"How was it?"

There are no words to describe how good it was being home. The best way to describe it was if I had been holding my breath for 13 months and when the plane landed in Newark I was finally able to exhale. I didn't think I would be so emotional, but broke down when I saw my mom for the first time. She quickly soothed me with a tall coffee light frappucino. She knows me too well. 

Was it weird being back?

Definitely not. It was weird how easy it was to slip back into my life. How simple it was to be back with my friends without skipping a beat. Knowing that even though I don't talk to them all the time it doesn't change how much I miss them, or how much they miss me.  I'm truly lucky to have such wonderful people back home supporting me, I didn't think it would matter as much as it does. I wish I could have been home longer, I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with my favorites. 

What did you eat? Did you eat Mexican?

What didn't I eat?! Of course I ate Mexican! I think I ate about 3 pounds of guacamole and a burrito the size of my head. What surprised me is that I didn't eat fish. I've been a semi-vegetarian for about 14 years now but went ovo-lacto a year ago. I wondered if I would be tempted at all by the promise of wild salmon from my local farmers market but resisted. Oddly enough the hardest moment was seeing a tuna fish sandwich at Pax. Yeah I know. Of all the things I could crave, I really wanted that tuna. 

Is it hard being back?

Yes, definitely. But do I regret my decision to come to Bulgaria? No not at all. In fact, I think going home affirmed more than ever that I made the right decision. I was stuck in a life rut before I came to Bulgaria, being here only makes me see how much beauty, life, and creativity there is in New York. Before I wasn't sure if I wanted to be back there ever, but going home made me appreciate how much difference is celebrated in the city. In New York no one is stared at for being different, everyone is different.  I know some people were worried that I wouldn't come back. I know I was worried that I wouldn't come back. I woke up every morning elated for the first week, then the second week I woke up every morning saying "I can't believe I have to go back to Bulgaria". However once I got back my perspective on everything changed. I was excited to see my friends and I actually got excited about starting my second year. I feel more confident in myself, my Bulgarian, and my abilities as a teacher, and I know that I can speak up more for what I believe in after having paid my dues for a year.


 Also, and I know I say this all the time, the friends I've made here both American and Bulgarian keep me sane, keep me motivated, and keep me from taking the easy way out and getting that one way ticket back home. 


Today marks one year as a Peace Corps Volunteer which means that this time next year I will be done. 365 days. 
365 Days
Piece.
Of.
Torta

Random Thought Process of the Day

д 

...That's the letter "d" in Bulgarian for some reason whenever I write it I can only think of 
the Super Sockets from my favorite childhood game Bubble Bobble. 

....Do you see it?