Black Eye? Welcome to Your First Winter Wonderland, Miss Hadaway.
This year, my first real snow of the season was considerably less dramatic though still a mix of enchantment and dread as snow is still friggin' cold and yet mysteriously beautiful. All of yesterday, when I was in class teaching, I watched through the window as the snow fell sideways, covering only one side of the trees and shrubbery with white fluff, the rest melting as soon as it hit the asphalt. I know it won't be long before it sticks, piling up everywhere and creating those tricky ice-patches that I mastered last year but only after about a dozen episodes of sliding around, waving my arms in giant circles to keep from falling. The trick is concentric, forward circles and bent knees, people. Bent knees - I seriously can't emphasize that enough.
My "trouble class" that I bonded with last year over sledding and snowballs is still the same bunch of диваци (savages) they were last year though worse because, well, they're in eighth grade now - the year when 13-year-old a-holes become 14-year-old a-holes in the full throws of puberty; adolescent angst; and rebellious, we-hate-all-authority attitudes that make them just so lovely. So flippin' sweet I could just throw them out the window by their hair and smile at the following *thud*. I'm kidding, of course. They are charming as ever - I just love it when they write different words for penis on the board in Bulgarian with an accompanying graphic. They are getting really good at dry-erase marker art - it's almost lifelike.
This year I have firewood for my stove-like thing that is electric on one side for cooking and old-fashioned, wood-burning stove on the other for keeping warm in inclement weather. I chop kindling with a horror-movie axe and start the fire myself and all that cool, Peace Corps stuff and I even sometimes pretend I'm not in Europe - no, I'm somewhere truly exotic and foreign like...Kansas. It's fun. Though, with fire, there is no temperature gauge. No way to say, "Phew, it's getting a little toasty in here, I think I'll turn down the heat." Nope, it's just always the temperature of, well, fire. And since it's far more comfortable to have a fire and open the window than it is to forgo one and bundle, I just go ahead and walk around in my underwear during the summer and winter months - one of the few advantages to living alone.
It's also that time of year when everyone asks me if I have a man for the winter. In the summer, men are optional and going out to coffee with a different one every night is considered frivolous, appropriate fun. But, in winter, a steady man to keep you warm is a necessity. I imagine, in Bulgaria, the majority of engagements and serious relationships start in January and February. However, I simply tell them I have a boyfriend in a far away land and that he's probably coming to visit soon so no one should worry - I also have a lot of blankets and super warm pajama's so, I'll survive. A winter-мъж is low on my list of priorities (not that I have one of those) though I think revisiting the world of, "Oh, my grandson is about your age and he's very handsome..." is inevitable - at least until мартеници are back on our wrists and the storks are rebuilding those nests.
Well, Christmas is upon us and I could really use the two revitalizing weeks of vacation that are coming to us hard-working volunteers. I plan on going to the super fancy ski resort near my village for New Year's fun so, hopefully, I'll have stories and pictures to come. Until then...
Me and my favorite group of sisters - Kamelia, Gergana, and Anelia. (And, no, I have no idea what Anelia's looking at. And, yes, the Pikachu on Kamelia's shirt is awesome though, when I pointed it out to her, she didn't seem as excited.)
-Age
