Culture Thursday

I'm going to walk a fine line between "cultural insensitivity" and "keeping it real" today. I want to relate what I've seen here in Bulgaria while at the same time remaining respectful. That being said, here I go.

In Bulgaria there is very little diversity. There are basically three different races/cultures here: Bulgarian, Turkish, and Roma. And while the Roma and Turkish peoples should also be considered Bulgarian by nationality because many of these families have been here for some time, the lines are always a little grey.

But that's about it. Everyone basically looks the same. Acts the same. Speaks the same. The culture varies little because, hey, it's a small country and what should we expect.

So, when someone who does not look like they belong here, i.e. volunteers from America, walk down the street, sit at a bus stop, order food in a restaurant, there is often, particularly in smaller communities, a standard response: staring.

I get stared at walking down the street in my non-Bulgarian clothes, with my non-Bulgarian sunglasses, my non-Bulgarian walk (Bulgarians don't really walk, they stroll, never in a hurry), and I'm watched. When I sit on a train people will change seats in order to gain a better vantage point for unabashed staring. And I'm not even all that different looking. I sometimes wonder what it's like for other volunteers that are, let's say, not white. Must be tough.

I'm not trying to say that it's a part of Bulgarian culture to stare. It's  not. What I am saying is that the huge differences in Americans' and Bulgarians' reactions to diversity are what cause the stares to seem so odd and blatant. To me, at least.

We were told being volunteers in a foreign country would be like living in a fishbowl and that we would have to constantly watch our conduct because our conduct would be constantly watched.

But, sometimes, I think it would be fun to take advantage of all this staring. To embrace it and realize that, no matter what, I'll be stared at so I might as well do whatever the hell I want. I mean to say, do the types of things that would absolutely get me stared at in The States not because I'm different looking, but because what I'm doing is friggin' weird.

Like using the big fountain in the center of town as a swimming pool. Or putting little fish in it and coming to feed them every day.

Or power walking, but just back and forth across the street in the exact same spot over and over for like 30 minutes, pointing and winking at every car that drives by.

Or furiously playing the air guitar inside a local store and then taking a bow when finished.

Or reading at a local cafe and jumping up to dance around the table every time I finish reading a chapter. Then high-fiving everyone around and saying, "Oh yeah! Another chapter down! I am SO good at reading! That book doesn't stand a chance!"

I think as long as I was in complete control of the stares and thought that every Bulgarian was perfectly justified in stopping, mid-sentence, to watch me with wide eyes, life would be a lot more fun.

Just sayin'.

-Age

I'm Like Your Grandma, Only Without the Knitting Needles

I'm sitting here, waiting patiently for Spring. With Spring comes, not only sunshine and warmer weather, but all the things I miss and love about being a volunteer here in Bulgaria: my volleyball team, my adult English course with the best Bulgarian ladies EVER, and the ability to exercise and not feel like a hybernating bear.

Though, there are a surprising number of things going on currently that I'm pretty darn excited about. First, I'm a Co-Secondary Organizer (Official title. Fancy, right?) of the International Writing Olympics here in The Bulge. Several countries from this neck of the wordly woods are competing and Bulgaria is participating for the first time. Which means, we're kind of new at this. Vaune, the coordinator, basically our boss, is an amazing volunteer who has taken-on this project with gumption and only minor skepticism. She has delegated to Megan (the other Co-SO) the task of collecting 21 prizes for the first round of the competition. Things started off slow - like us planning a trip to Sofia with letters written in English and Bulgarian asking major bookstores and publishers to donate to our event only to find that all the bookstores were closed - no one is interested in reading on Saturdays, apparently. But, after the PC office promised us old Bulgarian-English dictionaries and the amazing Valya gave me the email to a woman at the embassy who has already started looking for other prizes for us, things are looking up!

The event takes place this Thursday and I have some students from the local high school interested. Though I've taken on a bit too much lately and haven't been able to make my way over there in awhile, I hope that more students have decided to sign-up and I'll have some seriously great essays to take with me to Sofia for judging in just a few short weeks. Then, it's on to the the International part of the competition (which means our work is pretty much over and the more exciting aspect of the competition begins!)

Also, some more awesome volunteers are coordinating a spelling bee for Bulgaria and I and my counterpart, Reni, are participating. I am working with not only my school, but a school in a neighboring village becuase the English teacher there had a PC volunteer at one time and is still very intersted in the things we do, naturally. We've decided to have our own practice SB between the two schools at the end of February and then move on the the regional aspect of the competition in late March. Eventually, our best students will wind-up in Sofia to compete nationally. I'm pretty excited about this as I have some pretty amazing 2nd and 6th graders (as well as one stupidly smart 4th grader) who I feel will go really far. The list of words for each grade is long - 250 words - but I know they can do it, I've got some smarties.

Being a teacher here in BG is exhausting. So exhausting that I've been abbreviating for some time now, I'm sure you've noticed. Also, I'm too lazy to spell-check and find out if "abbreviate" has two b's or not. I go to bed at 9:00pm. Like an old lady or a 3rd-grader. I'm either 9 or 79 depending on whether I drink apple juice or warm milk before falling asleep. Don't judge me.

Anyway, like I said, I'm sitting here, waiting not so patiently for Spring. It snowed today. Snow, I'm beginning to really despise you. Though, I recently bought (or PC bought) a ton of wood for my pechka (stove) to keep me warm over the next couple months - as soon as I get a key to the garage it's locked away in, I'll be warm and toasty. Mmmmm, toast. I'm gonna go make some. Ciao.

Wait! I also recently found out I'm going home to the States for a two-week vaca in June!!! I'm so excited that 3 exclamation points really don't feel sufficient so...

! x Infinity = my excitement (it's probably algebra and can't be debated. Math never lies, I'm that excited.)

-Age

Attitude Adjustment

To be quite honest, I haven’t been enjoying teaching much. There are a lot of reasons and I don’t really want to get into them all (plus, I’ve already whined about this) but I’ve been having a difficult time finding the motivation I need. It seems that I simply can’t wait to leave my village on the weekends and meet up with other volunteers. I try not to do it too much but my weekend’s quickly fill up and I so look forward to the end of the week. This is beginning to worry me. I’m here not simply to help, I’m here for the experience as well. But I’m not gonna experience much in terms of Bulgarian life and culture if I’m not a part of it, right?


After the flu vacation and my many days off from school, I did not want to go back. I wanted to stay in bed and be lazy and pretend that I didn’t have any responsibility here. I mean, who would miss me really? I team-teach every class so it isn’t as if the students would be left without an English teacher. The Bulgarians I tutor were getting on just fine a few months ago without me. Volleyball isn’t going to define the futures of the young girls in my village. And my school’s fully capable of collecting money and supplies when needed. Who would miss me?

But, I got out of bed. I went to school. And all my students, all my little monsters, greeted me with big smiles, with English “Hello, Miss Hadaway, how are you?”’s, with “happy birthday”’s, and made it perfectly obvious that they did in fact miss me. There are some students who could care less about whether or not I’m there and those students are louder. They used to grab my attention with more frustrating strength but now I know that most of my students are sweet and kind and benefitting from my presence. It felt good.

Not only that, I had my friend, Marietta, and her husband, Angel, over for dinner to celebrate my birthday and they immediately began to fix every problem I had in the place. They showed me how to make a fire, offered to find me wood to last the rest of winter, unfroze my pipes so I could shower (hallelujah!), and changed the breakers so that I’d stop losing electricity. She also said that I should come for dinner at her house once a week and sleepover – it’ll be fun and more warm, she says. They are always taking such good care of me.

It’s good to be back.

I’m still running around and planning to meet volunteers in various places but I’ve decided to try and spend more time in my village because there are some amazing people here and the relationships I’ve made are real and worth the struggles. I’m blessed. I’ve been trying to foster this attitude for months knowing it was somewhere inside of me and I think I’ve finally found it. I’m going to focus on the good and exciting things that are happening (like the National Spelling Bee and International Writing Olympics!) and really enjoy the rest of this school year.

-Age

Men are Apparently for Keeping Warm and Other Fantasies

It’s been a bit strange for me here lately. First off, I’ve been told quite a lot recently how necessary it is that I find a man as soon as possible.

The first attack was from my friend, Marietta, who, point-blank, told me, “You’re almost twenty-seven. You need to get married and have babies.”

Um. Wow.

Then, our local policeman, Vladi, told me that I need a boyfriend. He offered to post a big sign along our main road saying, “Local American accepting applications. Pictures and CV must be included. Interviews to follow upon selection.” He offered to be one of my judges. I accepted his offer, saying I trusted his judgment explicitly. But really it’s because he can put me in jail.

He then asked me a series of questions:

“Do you smoke?”

No.

“Do you drink alcohol?”

No.

“Do you have a boyfriend here in Bulgaria or in America?”

No.

“OK. You don’t smoke. You don’t drink. You don’t have a man…what do you do?”

Ummmm…

Then, today, three of my co-workers asked me what I look for in a man. I won’t tell you the fuss they put up when I quoted the tall, dark, and handsome phrase we often use in America. But, after we discussed the few other adjectives I know in Bulgarian: smart, funny, nice, blah, blah, blah, they said that I should be on the look-out. “No, seriously. You need to look. If you find him, grab him. Seriously.”

OK.

Even my principal, my boss, told me it was necessary to have a man if for nothing more than to keep me warm in the winter.

“I have blankets. And a heater!”

“Men are better.”

I really enjoyed each conversation immensely.

Another reason the past few weeks have been strange relates to my lack of contact with other PCV’s. I usually see someone at least every other weekend. But, it’s been awhile. Two weekends. At home. Doing…not a whole lot. I’ve been bored and lacking in the silly, American antics that allow me a sense of release.

I’m pretty sure this is why I’ve been having wild daydreams and fantasies lately.

Nothing scandalous. Nothing related to the topic above. My fantasies have more to do with being a huge rock star or world-renown author or something like that. I mean just the wildest, detailed fantasies. I have to shake myself out of these sometimes, laugh at myself, and go back to work. It’s silly. I think I’m just absolutely bored out of my mind. I need to do something fun. Soon.

Also, the weather has been AMAZING! It’s sunny and warm and beautiful. I have to admit, it greatly effects my mood – I’ve been quite cheerful despite the boredom. Apparently this is very unusual for Bulgaria and it will most likely change soon, just like THAT. Cuz that’s how it is in Bulgaria. No warning, just extreme changes in weather that make you catch you breath and say, “Aw, crap, it’s snowing again.” I keep telling myself that I’m half-way through winter. Six more weeks and we’ll be past it and I no longer have to fear the impending doom that is below-zero temperatures.

Anyway, that’s all that’s going on with me.

-Age

Drinkin' Outta Cups

So, I recently went to a wonderful Thanksgiving feast with some lovely Bulgarian and Peace Corps friends and took some fun pics. We had a GREAT time - I missed family and friends from back home but Bulgarian Thanksgiving was uniquely fantastic and I'm excited to do it again next year. After Thanksgiving, we all traveled to our In-Service Training which was also a lot of fun as well as highly informative. I'm also giddy with excitement when I think that in just a few, short weeks I'll be celebrating Christmas in Varna and New Years in Italy!!! Does life get better than this? I don't think so. And one more thing: it's not snowing. (Well, not yet anyway)

We ate

We smiled

We cheered

We made awkward faces

We laughed

We ate some kick-ass cake (thanks, Evan!)

We played Dirty Mind (of course)

We were drinkin' outta cups (but not bein' a bitch)

It was a lovely time at Red-Headed Mary's!

-Age

Don't Tell Me What To Do! OK, Tell Me.

I’ve always considered myself to be independent but I’ve never really considered myself to be much of a leader. And I’m OK with this. Some people lead, others follow. I’m good at helping. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. No problem. So, being here in Bulgaria, in my own village is forcing me to consider myself in a new light and to embrace the leader in me that apparently must have always existed but never felt the need to make herself known as necessity had never required her skills. I have to step up, create ideas, encourage others to join in, and execute them…by myself. It’s slow-going right now but I see potential for the future. I may even come out of this whole Peace Corps experience a bit bossy. Yeah, that’s right, bossy.


Though the one aspect of my “followingness” that will be ever present is my tendency to literally follow others. I never know where I’m going or how to get there, I simply trust that those around me do and I blindly put all my faith in them and hope to arrive at my destination in a timely manner. And, most of the time, that’s exactly what happens. Some people thrive on being spatially aware and good with directions. I don’t. I’ve been to the post office in my village at least five times and I still hesitate when I’m walking down the street, “Now, is it this way or did I go too far? Crap. Did I just pass it? Oh, wait, no there it is, in the same spot it’s been for 50 years.” It’s silly.

Unfortunately, when I happen to be with someone who is also this way, getting lost and/or walking or driving entirely too far for no good reason, is inevitable. My friend, Katelyn, from my PST group is similar to me in this way. We went to Sofia and knew that we needed to be on the lookout for a certain street in order to eat at a Thai restaurant that she was really looking forward to. We walked for about a mile or so, chatting and walking, walking and chatting, and, before we knew it, we hit a dead-end. We weren’t looking for a street, we were too busy walking and chatting. We had to backtrack, call friends, ask people on the street. It was ridiculous. Honestly, if it wasn’t for that dead-end, we’d probably still be walking. I think we were heading North and it was about 2 months ago so I’m guessing we’d be in the Ukraine which I hear is lovely this time of year.

Anyway, forcing myself to become a leader is going to be a bit challenging I’m sure but I have a lot of great examples in my fellow volunteers and once I put some plans into action and see them turn into something, I’ll feel more encouraged. Plus, I have friends from back home recommending (and sending me cuz they’re awesome) all kinds of great books about teaching and leadership. I plan to educate myself like a true teacher would. Bring it on, Bulgaria!

-Age

I Can Be Your Hero

Yesterday was quite an eventful day for me here in Bulgaria. Enrique Iglesias, of all the gorgeous, Spanish-speaking pop-singers, was performing in a free concert on a huge stage in Sofia. My neighbors, Marietta, Desi, Ani, and Sylvia, all wanted to go and I of course could not pass up such an opportunity. We left after school around 2:00, driven by our friend, Tihomir. They all spoke in rapid Bulgarian while I day-dreamed out the window though Tiho would occasionally ask me questions and then we would all laugh when I stared at him wide-eyed. Не разбирам. At some point I used the phrase Okey-Dokey which evoked the curious question from Marietta, “What means ‘Okey-Dokey’?” Later, I asked her what “дабе, дабе” meant and she replied, “this means Okey-Dokey.” We’ve since decided to switch roles and she now says Okey-Dokey while I say дабе-дабе and then we both laugh cuz it’s funny to no one but us.

Tiho dropped us off and Marietta and I met the other three girls (all sisters, two of which are identical twins, all of which are drop-dead gorgeous as so many Bulgarian women are). We did a little shopping in which I had the opportunity to covet many a clothes I do not have the money to buy. When we were waiting at the bus stop to drop off Ani’s boyfriend, Sylvia noticed a celebrity walking down the street. I was told that she is a very famous Bulgarian singer and actress who is married to a very famous singer and actor. Basically, she’s the Jennifer Lopez of Bulgaria and I got to watch her buy oranges. She bought five oranges and considering how skinny she is, I don’t think she was planning to eat them. She’s probably learning to juggle for her next music video. Someone should tell her that apples are much easier to juggle than oranges.

We then went to this awesome café to have pizza and cake. The place is decorated so amazingly I couldn’t stop staring. It’s like being on a safari under the sea. Upon reading those words you were just struck by how amazingly fantastic that sounds, weren’t you? Yeah, it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. If I was a mermaid with a tiger-striped tail, I’d of fit right in. And the cake was pretty dang scrumptious too.

We then trekked our way to the concert, squeezed through the immense crowd and found the perfect spot to admire the beauty that is Enrique. He came out on stage singing falsetto while the crowd roared. The Bulgarian audience knew every line and sang at the top of their lungs, it was beautiful. It’s easy to get lost in lyrics so deep, “I saw you on the phone. I knew you weren’t alone.” Yet another classic, Enrique, bravo.

Despite the fact that his lyrics are rather cheesy, Enrique turned out to be a pretty cool dude. Not only did he memorize several phrases in Bulgarian, he also pulled two young guys up on stage, poured them a shot of vodka (cuz no one’s gonna bust him for serving underage drinkers while he’s in Bulgaria), and said, “Носдраве!” to the crowd. He then allowed one of the boys to sing his latest hit “I Like It” and do a little dance. This boy didn’t mess around. He took that microphone, marched to the front of the stage, and sang his heart out. Not only that, when Enrique remarked on his dance moves, the band started up a Michael Jackson beat and this boy went to town. He danced up and down that stage and had the crowd going crazy. And he was good. Enrique sat there on the stage with mouth open. I so badly wanted to say, “Welcome to Bulgaria.” I enjoyed myself immensely.

All in all, it was a great night and I feel so lucky to be in such an amazing place and have such wonderful new friends. I can’t wait to see what happens next!

-Age

Do Bulgarian Teachers Wear High Heels?

I got a package today from my mom. It was a bit bulky and oddly shaped, stretching at the cardboard seams and, upon examining this box in the small post office in my Bulgarian village, I was quite intrigued as to what my mother had sent me. I’d given her a list of things I wanted but my mom doesn’t always listen to me and it was very possible that this package either contained everything I asked for or a magic set and a signed poster of Tom Selleck.

Here’s what I got:

• · A book based off of Pride and Prejudice
• · Numerous office supplies (awesome!)
• · 5 dresses (one of which is actually a Halloween costume – Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom, naturally)
• · A bracelet with a small owl charm cuz owl’s are my favorite
• · And a ridiculous amount of tampons, which is what gave the box it’s odd shape

And let me tell you, it was like Christmas! I got, pretty much, what I'd asked for and I’ve never been so happy to receive post-it notes in my life! But that kinda stuff is so rare here and when I do find it, it’s just so expensive that I cannot justify the purchase.

So, of course, I immediately tried on all the dresses, remembered what it felt like to be girly and thought, “I don’t have shoes for these!” How in the world I could be regretting having not brought my black, peep-toe, platform heels as a Peace Corps volunteer is one of those great dichotomies that exists only in PC Bulgaria. While in January, I was expecting to be sent to a place where I could potentially live in a mud hut and bathe in the river, I was not expecting to have to learn the lesson of practicality as all the luxuries of the world are at my fingertips but not actually close enough for me to grasp.

*

The fact that there are clubs and fancy restaurants and places to buy beautiful clothes I think actually makes living in Bulgaria more difficult than a mud hut. Because I can’t have those things. I want those things. I see a washing machine in a shop window for 300 leva and I think, “I want that right now!” I see a pretty pair of shoes or a dining set that sparkles, taunting me with its shininess, and then see the reflection of the covetous look on my face before turning away.

Basically, I’m having trouble being frugal here. I was told by the volunteer who lives near me, a very hard-working girl who’s been here for over a year, that these first few months will be difficult, “you’ll wonder how in the world you’re going to survive on so little but, eventually, you’ll get used to this life, spend less and less, and then begin to save money without even meaning to.” I certainly hope so. Cuz right now I’m fighting the urge to go buy a pair of black heels. To match a dress I don’t know when I’m going to wear.

It’s not to say that I was rolling in the dough when I lived in California. Quite the opposite, actually. I worked between 50 and 60 hours a week most of the time and still could barely manage to pay my rent. I never knew what sort of paycheck I’d be receiving as my work hours were always changing and maintaining two, sometimes even three, jobs was often a nightmare. I’d save up for weeks to buy something like a black pair of heels. But I bought them. I genuinely felt I needed them. I know I don’t need those things here but it’s gonna take some serious will-power not to start a “shoe’s for Adrienne” fund instead of devoting my time to fundraise for the many needs of this community. I’ll do what I should, and gladly. I’m just saying it’s not gonna be easy. Or, it would be easy, if I were doing it in a pair of black, peep-toe, platform heels.

-Age

Oh, So That Wasn't Funny? Not Even a Little? Bummer.

So, I try to be funny just about as often as possible. I have a high regard for funny. Wit, sarcasm, and very dry humor  tend to be my favorites and I'm apt to forgive many a vice if someone can make me laugh on a regular basis. Unfortunately, however, I've gotten it into my head that everyone feels this way.

Not so.

I learned a fun trick from a friend of mine named Charlie: you measure the success of your humor on a percentage-based scale. By giving yourself a certain percentage you also give yourself margain for error. This way, when no one laughs or, gasp, they get offended, it's OK, you just chalk that up to the amount of time you're allowed to be un-funny.

Get it? In the States, I tried to be funny about 70% of the time. So that 30% was always there to keep my self-esteem in check.

"So then the guy was like, 'That's not my leg, that's a popsicle stick!'"

----------------------------------

(OK. That one's gonna really take a toll on today's average...)

But, in Bulgaria, I've decided to bump it down to 45%. You know, to be fair to myself. Things can get lost in translation and blank stares after what I consider to be a funny joke can kinda make you wanna cry. But now that it's 45%, I'm back in the game!

Also, Katelyn (one of my satellite group members) is a Theater Major. Have you ever tried to compete for laughs with a Theater Major? Not easy. She's skilled in the art of monologuing and using her body and facial expressions to take a story from funny to FUNNY. Maybe I should make it 35% just while I'm here in T----.

Personally, I think the majority of our time should be spent in laughter, having a great time just being alive. Too much seriousness makes you ugly. It's definetely bad for the complexion at least.

You remember what happened to the girl who was too serious for too long, don't you?

She died, People.

Oh, and just FYI, the word "die" in Bulgarian means "give me." So if someone in Bulgaria reaches out to you with both hands and says "die" over and over again, they're not trying to kill you. Common mistake. But just to be on the safe side, you should probably give them whatever you're holding. Immediately.

I'm gonna try and upload pictures soon (my internet's not being too friendly when it comes to uploading pictures) but here's a fun one of the pregnant donkey that serves as a street sign for me. "turn right at the pregnant donkey...turn right at the pregnant donkey..."

And here's us at the fireworks show to honor Hristo Botev (I've already written a post about this Bulgarian National Hero/Guy from The Hangover look-alike):

-Age

Kashkaval!

Okay. My village is awesome and so unlike anything I've ever known and these pictures in no way do it justice. I'm hoping to become one of those "picture people" that are always documenting everything (those one's that I've always relied on to give me their pictures cuz I never remember to take any). I'm gonna have great, insightful photos that give you amazing insight into my experience here in rural Bulgaria. But, until then, here are the few I've managed to take so far.

(Oh, and kashkaval is cheese in Bulgarian)

Children's Day - a national holiday in Bulgaria

Our language trainer, Veronika

My satellite group: Tom, Mary, Me, Katelyn

Where I live (pretty, isn't it?)

-Age

Country Life

Ah, the country life. Wake up in the morning to the sound of a rooster (or 7), brush your teeth (if the local farmers haven’t already used all the water), hang your clothes on the line…in the front yard…for literally everyone to see (it is now common knowledge that I am the only person in T--- to own at least 5 pairs of polka-dot underwear), and walk to work down a gravel road while all the local children say, “hello!” (heavy on the “h”).

And let’s not forget the country meals: a hearty breakfast, a very hearty lunch, and an extremely hearty bordering on Thanksgiving-style dinner. Every day. It is an important part of Bulgarian culture to make sure their guests (me) are well cared for and well fed. I am well fed. It’s also considered rude to so refuse something that is offered to you when you are a guest in someone’s home. So I eat until I’m stuffed. One of the first Bulgarian phrases I learned was, “Наядох се. Не мога повече.” (I’m full. I can’t eat anymore.) It’s come in handy.

Truthfully, I really do enjoy living in this small farming village. The kids are so great. They’re friendly and cute and so interested in getting to know us “Американци”. My cheeks hurt from smiling for so many pictures with them on their cell phones (yes, they have those – fancier than mine that’s for sure). My host parents are very sweet and take great care of me. They also have an amazing garden and, while the food may be more plentiful than is necessary for one person, it’s absolutely delicious. I’m also kinda enjoying being taken care of, you know? A lot of the other volunteers are struggling with this for some reason. They don’t want to have everything done for them. They are strong, independent people who are fully capable of taking care of themselves and want that freedom back. I say, “Why?” This is awesome. I’ve totally embraced this lifestyle. They want to be good hosts and make sure all my needs are met and I want to be a good guest and let them. Win – Win, people!

My Bulgarian is also coming along pretty well. I’m still far from fluent (when I say “far” I mean that in terms of the distance between planets, like, from here to, let’s say, I don’t know, Jupiter, about that far) but, considering it’s only been 2 weeks, I feel confident that I will be able to function pretty well on my own when the time comes. Our language teacher, Veronika, is very patient with us and keeps us at a steady pace while at the same time making sure we are absorbing the information. It’s less and less intimidating every day.

As far as my satellite group goes, I’m pretty happy. There are 4 of us (typical size is from 4-6 people) and I like everyone. No one gets on my nerves, at all. Thank goodness! And, hopefully, I don’t get on anyone’s nerves either. Hopefully. Katelyn is really funny and goofy and the fact that she majored in theater is present immediately upon meeting her, she makes us laugh all day long and keeps our spirits up when things get tough. Tom is such a nice guy and doing really well considering he’s outnumbered 4:1 by us girls. And Mary is a quiet, sweet girl who is coming out of her shell more and more as the days go by. Combined with our language trainer, it’s a perfect mix of people.

We have been doing a lot of teaching in the local school and beginning to understand the level of English children are able to speak in rural parts of Bulgaria. This knowledge, along with the teaching experience, will be really useful when we become учители (teachers) in our permanent sites. I really do love the kids here and hope they are just as sweet wherever I am assigned in Bulgaria. I think I'd prefer my permanant site to be rural like this because, from what I've heard from currently serving volunteers, it seems like the kids in the bigger cities are a bit more difficult to deal with. A rural, farming village near a bigger city would be PERFECT. I'll keep this in mind for my Permanent Site Interview coming up.

I can’t believe I’ve only been in Bulgaria for 3 weeks! I’ve experienced so much it feels like much longer while at the same time, the weeks are flying by. I can’t wait to see what happens next. I came here for a challenging adventure and that’s exactly what I’ve got.

Лека нощ!

-Age

Peace Corps Thursday!

So it’s Peace Corps Thursday. Oh, wait. Nope. It’s Friday. Sorry ‘bout that. Too busy yesterday. Too busy today too but I really wanted to share the exciting news!

First, through this blog I have met three girls: Kate, Alexa, and Alexandria that are also going to Bulgaria with the Peace Corps on May 10! That means we will probably meet during orientation and train together for those first three months in Bulgaria. I’m excited to already know some people!

Secondly, I received my staging information. All this time I was so sure that my orientation would be in Washington DC. Turns out I’m going to Philly. Can’t tell you how excited I am about that. We all know It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

I’ll be there for two days to be oriented and turn in all my paperwork. From there we will drive over 2 hours to fly out of JFK. Weird, I know. But I’m kinda looking forward to the drive. I’ll get to see a lot of America before I leave it for two years.

Then it’s hours and hours and hours of flying and poor sleep with a quick stop in Munich before I finally arrive in Bulgaria!

So, this is really happening. I think it’s a good sign that while I was reading the email I was also grinning from ear to ear.

The more I read about the Peace Corps and about current and past volunteers the more intimidated I become. But I also look forward to the challenge. I want to make the same kinds of long-lasting impacts that other volunteers are making. I want to push myself farther than I’ve ever been pushed before. I wanna sweat and cry and scream and come out of this knowing I gave it my all and I really made an impression on the world. No matter how small.
I can’t wait.

-Age

Peace Corps Thursday

I graduated with my Teaching Credential a couple years ago. Actually, it’s coming up on two years this June that I have been with a Credential but without a job that actually requires one. While I was student teaching, the state was just beginning to make their budget cuts to education and many of the teacher’s I was working with were stressing out over the threat of pink slips. I had a feeling that finding a cushy job as a second-grade teacher was gonna be a little more difficult than I had originally thought.

Since then, I have been working hard just to make ends meet. I often have two jobs and for a little while there I actually had three which, needless to say, was a little much. I’m not complaining, I know that most people my age are going through something similar. We had these dreams of being wealthy World-Changers by 26 but instead we are hoping our rent check clears. It’s just life. Stories we’ll tell are grandchildren to impress them with our past work-ethic and ingenuity.

This is what drove me to explore other employment options. The Peace Corps was one of many ideas I had back in November but it was the one I felt God was pushing me toward and who am I to say, “Uh, God, are you sure about this?” Of course He’s sure. He’s God. He made the heavens and the earth and narwhals.

Anyway, I thought I’d share with y’all what I’ll be doing in Bulgaria.

I’m going to be teaching English to elementary/middle school students. I’ll also be training teachers at the school different techniques regarding English as a Second Language instruction. Also, most Peace Corps volunteers have a second job or project. I will only be able to work at the school 18 hours a week so I will have down time to work on other things.

Some of the other projects mentioned in my packet involved working with youth in terms of sex-trafficking prevention. I am VERY interested in these types of projects. The rights and education of women has always been very important to me, I may have even been called a feminist once or twice (or 217 times) After reading Half the Sky and learning of the terrible things that can happen to girls all over the world, I hope to educate and inspire the young girls in Bulgaria to have higher expectations for their lives.

But before I can do any of this, I have to go through training. I will spend three months living with a host family in a larger city in Bulgaria, possibly Sofia, learning how to speak Bulgarian and receive TEFEL training that will help to sharpen my teaching skills. They also show us how to apply for grants to receive funding for those secondary projects. I will train with a group of Peace Corps volunteers and will hopefully make friends in the process. Unless they think I’m a weirdo. Or maybe they are all weirdoes too.

The three groups I could potentially be working with are: Bulgarians, Roma (gypsies), or Turkish immigrants. Of course, I am fascinated by the possibility of working with gypsies and have been learning a lot about them since, before this, I didn’t know they still existed as a race of people. Their history is so shrouded in mystery and intrigue. I hope I’m able to meet some Roma people even if I don’t work with them directly.

I will also have to come up with summer projects while the kids are out of school. I’m thinking maybe a sports-based or arts-based camp but I really don’t know for sure. So much is still up in the air.

Basically, my work will be focused on the youth; building their knowledge base and self-esteem so that they can go on and become successful in the new free-market economy that Bulgaria is struggling to promote. I will work tirelessly and it will be full of struggles and hardship but I am going to learn so much and grow as a person in ways I can’t even begin to predict.

Very excited!

But not as excited as this guy:

-Age

The Great Cookie Disaster

The following story is true and unembellished.

Today is my mom’s birthday and since I’m an awesome daughter and ridiculously low on funds I stopped by my parent’s house after work to make chocolate chip cookies. I picked up the chips assuming she would have all the other ingredients because, well, she’s a mom. Unfortunately her mom skills have gradually declined since I’ve left the nest and I had to go back to the store for flour, brown sugar, and baking soda.

I then had the brilliant idea of making, not chocolate chip cookies but multi-cultural chip cookies to celebrate my soon to be shocking cultural immersion in Bulgaria. I bought:

- Reeses Peanut Butter Chips (brown)
- Nestle Chocolate Chips (dark brown bordering on black)
- Nestle White Chocolate Chips (ahem, white)

I was ready.

Now, let me lay some groundwork. I don’t cook. Like, at all. But, for whatever reason, I thought making chocolate chip cookies would be easy as pie, right? Piece of cake. Well, not cake or pie . Cookies. Whatever, I thought it would be simple. Uh, yeah.

My mom decided to pre-open the package to give some chips to my impatient, food-loving sister (yes, mom, I’m blaming this whole debacle on you) so the package was a little ripped over the directions part but that didn’t really matter cuz I didn’t think I needed to read the directions cuz of my complete lack of cooking experience combined with my disastrous cooking history (I once put a pan full of boiling grease under the faucet…my kitchen exploded and I nearly burned my face off. I also spilled brownie mix all over the floor once and proceeded to scoop the top layer up with a spoon, make them and serve them to my unsespecting family). This assured success in a “third time's the charm” kinda way.

I read 4 cups of flour and think, “Huh, that’s seems like a lot,” but that’s all I think and I pour 4 cups of flour in the bowl.

This is the part where I get fancy. Fancier than making multi-cultural cookies. I read in People Magazine that Lisa Kudrow likes to make her cookies with only brown sugar so I decide to do that too cuz I love Lisa Kudrow. So I’ve got everything in the bowl including half a bag of the milk chocolate chips before my mom says, “NO! You’ve got to mix the chips in later!”

Thanks for the heads-up, mom. Phew. That could have been a real disaster.

So I turn the mixer on and realize that something is wrong. It’s been my experience that ignoring problems is often the best solution so I apply that same logic to this situation, naturally. But, before long, I decide this isn’t a problem I can ignore. The cookies are pure powder. We’re talking a flaky, powdery mess.

“OK. I can fix this.”

I add two more eggs for much needed moisture.

“There. Easy. I am really good at this cooking stuff.”

The consistency is a little better than before but I have to roll the cookies into balls as if I’m making meatballs instead of cookies in order to get them to stick together. I put them on the pan, put them in the oven and wipe the sweat from my brow while simultaneously applying dough and flour to my forehead.

Then comes the “OH CRAP!!! I forgot to add the rest of the chips!” I grab the chip bag and look at the directions to see if adding half is right. It’s not.

That’s when I see it. That little 4 along the rip of the open chocolate chip bag. That 4 is connected to one of these “/” – you know what that means. Yup. On the other side of the rip was “2 1” with the 4 all alone, leaving me to believe it was 4 cups of flour. Not 4 cups. 2 ¼ cups! I added almost twice as much flour, only brown sugar, 4 eggs instead of 2, and half the amount of chocolate chips.

It’s at this point my dad thinks it’s a good idea to say, “biscuit cookies.”

This is when I actually utter the words,

“This is the greatest cookie disaster in history!”

We then notice that the cookies are starting to get really big, like, really big. Cuz of all the eggs, I guess (actually my mom told me).

My mom says, “Hey, these might be great. These might be millionaire kinda cookies. We could be famous.”

“Big-Ass biscuit cookies,” I say.

“Big-Ass cookies in a little-ass kitchen,” she says.

We then start to sing, “big-ass cookies in a little-ass kitchen,” like from Tommy Boy. We decide this is what we’ll call our new cookie business.

Turns out the cookies tasted exactly like cornbread but with a little bit of chocolate added. Not bad actually. No million dollar cookies, but not bad.

I then made a good multi-cultural batch with all the right ingredients, prepared the right way and they were scrumptious. Delectable. Darn right delicious. Highly recommended.

So, basically, I’m a terrible cook but I did manage to end years of racial tyranny in that kitchen with one batch of cornbread biscuit cookies. What did you do today?

Big-Ass Cornbread Biscuit Cookies

Multi-Cultural Chip Cookies

Happy Birthday, Mom, I love you!

-Age

I Wish I Knew the Bulgarian National Anthem, Come to Think of It, I Wish I Knew Bulgarian

So, this is going to be a short post. I've barely had time to register the news and excitement but I finally know which country the Peace Corps is sending me to, what I'll be doing, and when I'm leaving!!!

Bulgaria, Primary (Elementary) English Training, May 10th

When I opened the package in front of a bunch of friends they started pounding the table and shouting Bulgaria! Bulgaria! They wanted to lift me up on my chair and dance me around the room because they thought it was probably something they do there...I said no thanks. The last thing I need is a concussion when they A) drop me or B) bang my head on the ceiling. But I very much appreciated the enthusiasm.

I haven't yet told my parents who you know aren't as excited about this adventure as I'd hoped but I will tomorrow and I have no doubt they will be wonderfully supportive.

My next step is to completely overwhelm myself with as much information as possible so that I can forget it all the second I step off the plane in a country that cannot be prepared for by google. I am so excited. So nervous. So unsure and yet absolutely sure all at the same time!

I don't know the future of this blog but I hope, no, pray that I will continue to share my experiences here with you.

PEACE!

-Age