The Best Medicine

So, I like to laugh. A LOT. You're probably thinking, "what a ridiculous thing to say, everyone loves to laugh." And it's true, everyone does. It releases endorphines and relieves stress and blah blah blah. But, for me, laughter, especially here, where I struggle on a weekly basis between going home and just calling it quits or declaring Bulgaria my Mt. Everest that I WILL conquer, it's nice to have uncontrollable fits of laughter every now and again.

I love it when you get the giggles at those really inappropriate moments and you just know you should not be laughing cuz it's unprofessional/rude/disruptive/etc.  Those moments are priceless because the discomfort of knowing you're being ridiculous in no way trumps the good feeling it leaves you.

I have those moments a lot during my adult English class here. Every Wednesday night since I've moved to Momin Prohod I've been teaching the same group of women English. They are fantastic, I love them, and if I didn't have their dedication and sweet smiles this whole adventure would be even harder.

I was thinking today about how I only really laugh when I'm with other Americans. We just crack each other up using nothing but word play, sarcasm, stories, phrasing, everything that has to do with language and everything that I just don't have with the Bulgarians I call friends here. BUT. There is one woman in my adult English course (she's my age and understands English better then she lets on), her and I just crack up all the time. And we're usually laughing at someone. Which is terrible. The teacher should not be laughing at the mistakes of her students. Ever. But, throughout the whole class I'm already on the edge of laughter because of their accents, errors, questions, and overall miscommunications so when this girl laughs, I'm done. That's it. There's nothing I can do. I try to fight the laughter and giggles but I can't and I usually have to bury my face behind a piece of paper or turn around and pretend to write something on the board until it's over. I can't even look at this girl or it will turn into the full-blown, tears-falling kinda laughter that usually doesn't end for several awkward minutes. Luckily, most of these women are fully capable of making fun of themselves and end up laughing with us but I still feel really bad every time it happens.

But I can't help it. And it always feels so good to let that out. Sometimes people say, "you just needed a good cry." I think the same goes for laughter.

When my friends and I went to Greece for Spring Break, we went to a travel agency to buy our ferry tickets for Santorini. The man was older, Greek, and his English was just enough for us to understand the basics of what he was telling us. However, he phrased himself so oddly, repeated himself in so many ways, so many times and with these crazy, over-exaggerated hand gestures that, to me, he was nothing but comical. I couldn't even look at him. And after about 20 minutes of trying to explain something that should have taken 30 seconds, he fixed me with his gaze and hand-gestured the crap out of his newest explanation and I. Just. Lost. It.

Tears started to roll down my cheeks, my face contorted, my friends looked at me like I'd gone insane. I thrust the money for my ticket into my friends hand, ran out the door, and laughed hysterically in the stairwell for about 10 minutes before I could come back inside. I felt terrible. It was pretty obvious I was laughing at the guy. He had our tickets ready by then and was really nice about my odd behavior but, man, that felt good. I love those moments no matter how embarrassing.

When that class first started, I could make funny comments throughout the whole thing knowing no one understood them and they were just for me - I still do that with my kids when I really need to make fun of them in order to keep my head from exploding. But now, these ladies can understand me and I have to be a little careful with what I say. Though, it's kinds nice to have someone laughing with me  - it's always better than laughing alone, in a stairwell.

-Age

PCPP Complete!

It's been awhile since I've talked about my PCPP - which are letters that mean something, however, I no longer know what. My project. Anyway, it's basically finished besides a few minor details that seem to be taking forever to iron out but, hey, we got this far.

Here are some pictures to let you see how it all turned out:

the classroom all stripped and ready to be made new!

shopping for supplies (this is where I walked around like an over-stimulated two-year-old)

(My counterpart, Reni, and our school's handyman, Sasho)

purchasing lamps (it took us like 30 minutes to choose - there were just so many!)

We painted about a million of these silver. It took all day but they looked great, so shiny.

She was actually working, I just picked up that paint can cuz I wanted to be holding something.

Delivery truck with our new desks!

AND....TA DA!!!

New white board, teacher's desk, floor, desks, chairs...

cupboards with donated books...

windows (check out that view, huh?)...

door (I painted some words in Bulgarian to match the pretty wall stickers my mom sent me  - thanks, mom!)...

Our desk has, wait for it, DRAWERS! So handy.

and new lamps (all six work, that's really somethin')

I'd say it was a great success. We're just waiting for blinds so our kids won't go blind in class, strategically placing their desks so the sun doesn't shine on them directly. We're also hoping for a computer which would make our snazzy classroom complete! Yay us!

-Age

Culture Thursday

A few months ago the B25s (I'm a B26) finished their Peace Corps service after two grueling/piece-of-cake (depending on the person/site/work) years. Quite a few of those volunteers stayed in Bulgaria and their varying reasons include: extending service from 3-11 months, getting married to a Bulgarian, starring on a new Bulgarian reality show called "Lost in Bulgaria" which happens to be the case for four of these amazing "R"PCVs (the "R" is for "Returned" which they haven't technically done yet but I still think they deserve the highly coveted status).

The TV show is in Bulgarian but there is some English every now and again and the scenes or so dynamic, interesting, and funny (no, really, funny) I'm not even sure it's necessary for you to understand exactly what's being said. You'll get the general idea - promise. AND you'll get to know Bulgarian culture so much better. Which is why you tune-in to Culture Thursday, now isn't it?

Here's the link to the first episode (there are two episodes currently online and the rest of the eleven will air on Wednesdays here in BG so they should be up on the website by Thursday - conveniently).

LOST IN BULGARIA - ИЗГУБЕНИ В БЪЛГАРИЯ

-Age

World Peace Day

I was reading a friend's blog, her name's Kate, and she wrote about the upcoming "World Peace Day" and all the plans she had with her students to celebrate this unique holiday. I was inspired and decided to do the same.

I googled "famous quotes about peace" and was given a long list of wonderful quotations from Buddha to Martin Luther King Jr.  I put the quotes into google translate so my students wouldn't go, "Oh, jeez. More English. Great," and did my best to correct google's inevitable mistakes (to be fair to google, I missed some too). I then printed them, cut each one out individually, rolled it like a snail shell and put all the curly little pieces in a basket. I then made a poster with "World Peace Day - September 21" in Bulgarian and brought the whole production to school the next day.

I hung my poster on the wall near the entryway, held the basket full of fun quotes in my hand, and waited. As the students came in they saw me with a big smile on my face, they saw the poster, saw the basket and immediately wanted a "ксметча"(something they have in Bulgaria similar to a fortune inside a cookie at a chinese restaurant). I also had these rub-on tattoos with peace signs on them for the kids to take and put on on their face just like me (which I'm sure the other teachers just loved). They read the quotes, got really excited about who their quote was from, and then exchanged.

"Miss Hadaway, who's John F. Kennedy?"

"He was an American President."

"OH! LOOK! I have an American president! All you have is the Dalai Lama."

Честит Международен Ден На Мира!

-Age

Seven Rila Lakes, A Tale of Only Slightly Exaggerated Adventure

This past weekend I went on a nature hike in the local mountains. Mountains that I can actually see if I stick my head out my window a couple of feet. However, not realizing these were the exact mountains my hiking group was heading towards, because I'm a bit spatially-challenged, I went about 3 hours out of my way to make a big, giant circle with two trains, one bus, and a taxi ride in order to get to the base of these mountains with my friends (who actually had to go this route cuz they can't see these mountains from their windows). Oops.

Regardless, it was an amazing trip. We went to the Rila Mountains and, specifically, the Seven Rila Lakes (whose title in Bulgarian I can never seem to get quite right). There are literally seven lakes all pretty close to one another as you make your way up this mountain trail and all are only for looking at. There is no touching (I touched one), swimming, rock-skipping (I did that too), fishing, or pointing at for prolonged periods of time (I exaggerated that last one, though, for all I know, this could absolutely be true [I didn't read all the "do this" but "don't do that" signs on the way up, it could've been in there]). You can take pictures of them, however, and you can stare and point at those as much as you like, depending on the staring and pointing rules in your own house.

So, it went a little something like this:

We (me, Katelyn, Kerri, Priscilla, Ben, and Ashlei - yes, this is how she spells her name) met in Sofia at noon and took a train to a pretty little town called Dupnitsa (where a super Cali-sexy volunteer used to live but now he's gone) and from there took a bus to Panichiste. This mountain village happens to be where all of us volunteers spent our first few days in Bulgaria so it was nice to be back and re-live those crazy moments (I wasn't full of naive excitement nor did I have permanently blood-shot eyes from lack of sleep this time around). From Panichiste we took a taxi (with the friendliest taxi driver the world has ever seen) to the base of the mountain where we'd planned to take a ski-lift to our first хижа (or mountain cabin) cuz we were saving all of our hiking energy for the next day. Turns out, the lift wasn't running that day and we had to trudge (tredge?) up the mountain unexpectedly. Kerri and I were so slow going up we played the "let's pretend we're turtles, what kind of turtle are you?" game. We never did decide what sound a turtle makes.

We then slept in our first cabin, hostel-style with all of us in one big room, after a hearty dinner of soup and beer.

In the morning, we started on our hike. It was pretty difficult. Very steep and I spent the majority of the time out of breath. Not that I minded all that much, I figured hiking was going to entail some physical inconveniences but would be well worth it cuz it's rumored to be "so darn pretty" in the places where nature lives (you know: mountains, rivers, forests, Kansas). We played in streams, climbed on boulders, took "the path less traveled by" which was less traveled by for a reason as it turns out, and took a lot of silly pictures - all before lunch.

After lunch (which we ate on a rock near one of the lakes, where I was yelled at by my fellow hikers for disrupting the Untouched Wilderness when I fed a swarm of teeny-tiny little fish some of my "hiking cereal" [it was totally just regular cereal but I called it that cuz it was in a backpack - I also brought "hiking oreos"]), we started to get serious. The paths were steeper and much more treacherous and I was a bit fatigued from all my so-called "goofing around" on the first part (there could have totally been hidden ancient Bulgarian treasure in the crevices of that one rock I "wasn't supposed to climb on" cuz it's on "protected ground" to keep it safe from "human exposure". Socialists.)

We passed each lake, counting them as we all looked forward to #7 - the last lake, which we all assumed would be the best, bluest, and shiniest lake of them all. We saw wild horses (a mama and two ponies!), waterfalls, Bulgarians in super short shorts, and breathtaking views. When we made it to the top, where the seventh lake was (it was normal), there were these rock piles all over. Apparently, when people make it to the top, they take a rock and add it to the top of one of the piles, a tangible manifestation of success (whoa - that sounded fancy). So, naturally, I did the same. It felt good. Then we sat and stared at the view below us and felt pretty proud of what we'd accomplished.

We then had to hike another hour to get to our second хижа. We could see the cabin at the bottom of this long valley, a small house-shaped dot at the end of these rolling, golden hills. If we all hadn't been so tired I think we would have run toward it, Sound of Music-style and maybe held hands, spun around, and sang a song about the hills being alive. But instead we walked...

..and walked...and walked...

At one point, when we'd been walking for over 20 minutes and the cabin did not seem any closer than it was before, we began to question whether or not we were:

1) in a dream (you know, one of those dreams where you're running towards something but you can never get there and you wake up super frustrated, to the detriment of the person next to you or your pillow?)

2) The Twilight Zone

3) seeing an optical allusion not unlike an oasis in the desert

We did finally make it and this place was legit in a "we're really hikin' now!" kinda way: water pumped in from a natural spring, owned and operated by mountain men (I found one of the heavily-bearded ones rather sexy but shied when Ashlei offered to talk to him with me - I have nothing to say to a bearded mountain man besides, "so. that beard. epic." and I don't know the Bulgarian word for "epic"), and electricity from a generator that seemed to only run for a couple hours just after sunset. I felt pretty disgusting after the hike and was bummed not to be able to take a shower. I also had a mini panic attack when I let my mind fully digest how remote and stranded we were in this deep valley not accessible for miles by anything but feet (peoples' and horses'). It creeped me out in a claustrophobic, head stuck in your pullover sweater when the neck's too tight and you start to freak out a little and tug at it 'til it feels like you might rip your own face off kinda way.

The next day, Kerri, Katelyn, and I went home while the others continued on an even more challenging hike. We went down, passed all the same lakes at rapid speed and managed to all be in (or near as Kerri had to sleep at Katelyn's cuz her town is a bit remote) our own beds that very night.

I got a wicked sunburn that is peeling in a way that makes me look as if I've just had a chemical peel like the Desperate Housewives of LA/NY/NJ/OC. Not cute. Nor is it fun to hear, "Oh, miss, your face," from all my students. I respond with, "I know, my face is angry with me."

But I had a great time. I would, hands down, do it again in an all-terrain jeep with ipod hook up, AC, and mini-fridge. For sure.

-Age

Culture Thursday/School's Back

So, today was the first day of school. All my little savages are back and looking as deceptively cute as ever - they are so tricky. Basically, the day goes like this:

The kids and teachers all gather outside of the school

The older students march around with the school's flag and then hang the Bulgarian flag on the pole in front of the school

Speeches are given (our mayor, the director of our school, and my counterpart spoke)

The students listen with rapt attention

The youngest and cutest kids recite poems and speeches about the first day of school. The students in the front row are our new first graders. We're pretty excited about the 12 of them because we didn't have enough students for a 1st grade last year. They are pretty adorable.

With our new 1st graders comes a new (new for me, at least) tradition of walking under the arch for good luck. Yesterday, the 3rd grade teacher and I went hunting all over Momin Prohod for ivy and flowers so we could make the arch look this beautiful. It was fun.

The students also eat a peice of bread called "pitka" with honey for good luck before going under then arch, over the water, and into the school

This is the bucket for the water I was talking about. It's tradition, and I believe I've mentioned it before, to pour water on the ground in front of people who are embarking on something new and exciting in a ceremony such as the first day of school, graduation, or a wedding. There's also the school bell, decorated with pretty wild flowers

Then the kids go home and teachers, director, mayor, retired teachers, and the PC volunteer all pile into the teacher's lounge and eat lots of sweet things and drink lots of sugary drinks. It's usually tradition to drink rekia but my school's not big on drinking so we stuck to lemonade...and cigarettes.

It was a really lovely day. A couple staff members who were visiting a nearby volunteer dropped by to say "hi" and met all my colleagues. They also got to hear everyone brag about me (I bragged about myself a little too - I'm not gonna lie) and see the new classroom we're constructing. Speaking of that classroom, it's not really ready yet so we'll be teaching elsewhere until it's finished, which should hopefully be soon.

Here's hoping for a great year!

-Age



Postponing Culture Thursday

I realize it's Culture Thursday but I have nothing interesting to tell you, sorry. However, I do have a dentist appointment tomorrow in Sofia. While that may normally seem like a boring theme, this is Bulgaria and I'm gonna bet there'll be a fun story to go along with what's sure to be minor suffering tomorrow. I'll let you know. (Also, I'm first visiting the medical office at the PC headquarter ((I feel really cool using a word like "headquarters")) because I got stung by a bee and now have a huge, red circle on my arm that was at first the size of a baseball but is more like a genetically engineered grapefruit right now and it itches. I want all of that to go away but I don't own any Benadryl - I'm hoping they do).

-Age