Sunglasses Weren't Enough

Something about my life here in Bulgaria before it ends:

Today was the last day of school. We said good-bye to our 8^th and 7^th graders. The 8^th graders have to leave cuz I work at a primary school but the 7^th graders are leaving this year because most of them are super smart and got really great test scores on their big, national, 7^th grade exams and get to go to fancy schools throughout Bulgaria. I’m really happy for them cuz they’re all great kids. You know how I feel about my 8^th graders.

I cried. Not like a sweet, welling-up of tears but actual sobs. It was awful. I tried to hide behind my sunglasses but people noticed and then they cried and there were hugs and flowers and tears and pictures and it was just such a big, wonderful mess that I can’t imagine there was any other way to end my two years teaching here. I really love my kiddos. Saying good-bye was not easy. It sucked.

Then we went to the restaurant in town to celebrate. We took tons more pictures and, of course, I cried again. I joked with my 5^th graders, told my 6^th graders how special they are, and watched my 7^th graders prance around in pretty dresses and button-down shirts and realized how much they’ve grown up since I got here. 

Now I’m at home baking cookies for my close friend, Lenka, who I’m about to go to coffee with so I can give a her a letter in Bulgarian that tells her how much she’s meant to me and I just don’t think I can handle any more tears today. Seriously. They give me a headache. 

I’ve known volunteers who just take off. They leave Bulgaria and no one ever hears from them again. They don’t answer emails, they don’t skype or facebook. They are just gone and their colleagues and friends and kiddos don’t know why. I understand why. It’s hard to move on to a new life and hold onto this one at the same time. Moving on completely, severing all ties seems easier, less painful. But, I don’t want to do that. I want to keep in touch. I want to know how my friends here in Bulgaria are getting on and I want to know about all the wonderful things my students do with their futures. I’m gonna try my best.

That’s all for today. Parting is such sweet sorrow, am I right?

-Age

Manda -Pants

My best friend and I are living two completely different lives. We’re only best friends because we like each other so much. If we didn’t, we’d have probably lost touch by now. We’d be the types of friends that like each other’s pictures on facebook as an obligation. I might not actually care about her recent trip to Lake Tahoe, but I click the ‘like’ button cuz it’s easy and it lets her know that I’m glad she’s still having a good time in life and maybe her yellow striped bathing suit is cute. She’d occasionally comment on my posts with a ‘lol’ just to let me know that she still thinks I’m quirky even though she probably didn’t actually laugh out loud.

She's got a six-year marriage and a mortgage and a career and thinking about kids and I...well.

But, she’s awesome and I love her and we’ll be best friends forever. She’s one of the funniest, most genuine, kindest, completely normal, prettiest people I’ve ever known and we could laugh for hours and hours about nothing, tell the same stories over and over again without feeling repetitive, and listen to each other’s problems with the ear of a friend who knows the other so well that no advice or opinion needs to be given unless solicited. 

I figure, when we’re old, so old that it doesn’t make a difference at all how different our lives were because now we’re so wrinkly and feisty and grey that nothing matters more than the amount of fiber we add to our mojitos, we’ll just hang out on a front porch and bitch. And laugh. I’ll probably have a gross smoker’s laugh that will be completely unfair cuz I’ve never smoked and she’ll make fun of me for sounding like a man and I’ll tease her cuz her boobs that I was once so jealous of rest on her lap when she sits. It’ll be great. Right now we’ll stay friends even though we don’t see each other nearly as much as we’d like but one day we’ll grow old together.

I’ve read almost every Jane Austen novel (I’ve read JD Salinger and Ernest Hemingway too so don’t give me shit) and I remember her writing about friends. The main character describes the importance of being kind to everyone and I agree, but she also says that who you associate with, the people you call your friends, should be thoughtfully selected. Not everyone is a friend and that’s not cruel, it’s practical. If someone is a fool and you know they’re a fool and you call them your friend, it reflects poorly on you. Your friends reveal the person that you are, I think, in a similar way that your actions do and I’m happy to say that I’ve known the greatest person ever since I was in second grade – that’s 20 years of looking pretty damn cool by association. 

I should’ve thought to write this earlier, for her birthday or something, so I didn’t have to buy her a gift. Not that I bought her one when it was her birthday. She’s the generous one in the relationship, not me. 

-Age