A Great Success

By request...A true story...

Tropical sun was beating down on my face as I ran across the black sand beach towards the Pacific ocean, crashing its waves like a rhythmic $10 "Sounds of the Ocean" CD. With my bodyboard in-hand, my new sleek rashguard shirt sticking to me like cellophane, I was ready for my first adventure in my new Hawaiian home.

My two buddies and I were straight off the plane from the "mainland", and about as awesome any three guys from Montana could be. ;) We had decided to move to Hawaii to attend school on an exchange program. Hilo, Hawaii, would be our home for the next three and a half months. We were intent on studying and getting the best education we could while we were in here...except not.

Within the first week we had ventured to the local Wal-mart and bought ourselves new, made-to-look-expensive bodyboards and headed out to the local beach called Honoli'i. (See top picture) Of course we rode in style in our cheaply bought and poorly insured gray Grand Caprice. Pulling up to the beach we could see that the "Waves Were Pumpin'!!!" Pure excitement and nerves arose in all of us as we looked at eachother and tried to act as macho and stoic as possible. Except, how do you look macho and stoic when you are standing next to a 1982 gray Grand Caprice?

As we approached the beach I could see some locals about 100 yards off the shore catching what looked to be 12 foot waves. Insane, right? I gauranteed myself that I would stick to the less-certain-death size waves a bit farther down the beach. We made our way past the showers and a few hotties sunbathing on the small patch of grass behind the thin strip of beach. Well, here we were three "haolis", that means "white people", standing seemingly ready for this new adventure. I took my t-shirt off. I could feel the stares piercing my skin. "I know I am white but geez, at least try to make your stares less obvious," I said to myself under my breath. Was I missing something? Did I have my boardshorts on? Were we really that obvious of newbies?

I turned at looked at my buddies Jim and Shane and said, "I ain't standin' around just to get stared at! I'm running in!"

In a Baywatch-esque scene the three of us pasty, inexperienced, adventurous, mainlanders ran barefoot across the beach, down into the water.

"SPLASH"

The water was at least warm, but the waves sure looked at lot bigger from my flat position on top of my bodyboard. I had watched some people out in the waves already swimming around just fine on their boards and navigating the waters like they had a motor attached to them. But I have to say, swimming with a bodyboard is like trying to swim with a coffee table between your legs...impossible.
The waves kept coming and we kept paddling, doggy-paddle style, to essentially no end. I looked behind me and realized we still only about 60 feet from shore. This was ridiculous. It was like trying to run up a descending escalator, but even worse, every step/paddle I took the escalator/ocean just kept getting infinitely the same size. 20 minutes of struggling later we made it out past the waves. You see the key to bodyboarding and surfing is being faster than the waves and therefore being able to catch them from behind. How were we going to be faster than the waves if it took us 20 minutes to paddle 50 yards? I was already huffin' and puffin' and in need of some Gogo-gadget webbed feet and hands.
Then I see my buddy Jim catch a wave, well more like a wave caught him, but either way he was speeding along a wave, looking like he was Kelly Slater on a bodyboard.
I had to match that so I gave it a try. I looked behind me and saw a good size wave coming. I paddle hands and feet as fast as I could. I thought I was going faster than the wave but apparently not. The wave crest caught me and tipped me face first into the water. It had to have been quite a scene with legs flailing in the air and a wave smashing towards shore. I don't know because I was trying to find which way was up after being rocked by an innocent "baby wave". Maybe this was a MISTAKE. I found my way to shore coughing up water and dragging my board behind me. I hear a "local" voice yell to me, "Hey haoli! Where yo fins bra?"

Confused by the question I thought to myself. My fins, huh? Does he think I am merman? Am I missing something? I yell back, "What?"

"Your fins bradda?" as he holds up a pair of special rubber fins that you wear to propel yourself easier through the water. "Wow! We are a bunch of idiots!" I scream silently.

I yell back nervously, "I forgot them at home....."

"That's stupid bra. Big MISTAKE, you coulda been killed"

Really? I realized that, after being tossed like a rag doll underwater for a good 30 seconds.

Needless to say I didn't end up going back into the water that day. I wouldn't go back in until I had my "fins". What strangers we were, thinking we could conquer the waves without proper, necessary equipment.
Yes, it was a big mistake on my part. I was almost killed. I overcame it though with the advice of a local, and now a friend. He kindly showed us where to get the best and cheapest fins and offered to show us the ropes of bodyboarding. I now can say that my big mistake has turned into a even bigger success. I have found another passion in my life and one that I may never be really good at but one where I know I can be mistake-free...kinda...because that wasn't the last wave that made me ponder life and death. My advice...first time bodyboarding, go with someone who knows what their doing. I have been bodyboarding since then and I can say for certain that if you don't wear fins you could end up like this guy (See Below).
The End.
Can you just imagine what happened to this guy? OhMyGUSH!!!

Clutch timing

This weekend in Bansko marked the start of the ski season. The weekend's events included a legends ski race, concert, and VIP only silent auction. So much hype, so many Greek college students, so little snow, and only 2 Americans.

Those two Americans, myself and Matty "Ice" Sierra. Ever felt like you were in a foreign country with no language skills. Ya, right, we are in Bulgaria. Except by this point we have a decent grasp of the language. Well, while standing in line for the gondola ride up to the ski season party at the base area, I had that same feeling like I was back in PST, mute & unable to communicate. Nope, I didn't lose my Bulgarian. Matt and myself, found ourselves smothered in hoards of Greek tourists flocking to the ski hill, like the Salmon of Capastrano. (Dumb and Dumber reference)

Once at the base we both were underwhelmed with the site that we witnessed. No snow underneath my feet to make me feel like it is winter. No concert that was worthwhile to stare at. All there was a maybe 200 yard long field of man-made snow stretching up the hill. This was the track for the dadanunaaaaaa!!!! "LEGENDS SKI RACE"....ummmm not all legendary and frankly forgettable. The afternoon however was not a complete bust because we did find a sledding hill to practice our....cardboard box-sled-riding skills. This was actually quite entertaining, albiet quite cold and rocky, eeek.

Oh, and what do you know....It snows for the first time on Monday....clutch!!!

You Cheaters!!!

Shouts of Bulgarian slander ringing in my ears. Ne pipai! Byagai! Mooshenik! Luzhets!

What am I doing here?.......Oh ya I am playing a board game that has absolutely no skill involved. Simply rolling the dice to see who is luckiest. I should try my luck in Vegas the way I am playing tonight.

6, 6, 5, 1, 6, 4, 5. The high rolling doesn't stop. I am making this game my......ugh ya! The excitement doesn't stop there. My unofficial partner in crime, Radi, and I are ganging up on the girls. You see, when you play board games, friendships are forgotten and gender alliances form only for the benefit of watching the others become frustrated with our tag-team efforts. I almost felt bad, then I realized how much I hate losing. Not saying I am a sore loser, but hey lets face it, winners (at least with board games) get all the glory. However miniscule that glory may be.

The night started with the intention of me teaching an english lesson to my new friends at the, what I refer to as, house next to the police station. But really it is an transitional facility for former orphans who are too old for an orphanage but still do not have the means to be out on their own. Either way, the formal english lesson was scrapped for a cooking lesson.
Why not learn english and cook at the same time. It worked and it definitely was better than me sitting there pointing to a worksheet and saying the word over and over. We cooked, we learned food items in English, we tested cologne, and we cleaned. And then we tryed not to cheat......sure, right O!!

If you play with Bulgarians you better know the words, cheater, liar, don't touch, and get the hell out of here! Thankfully I did.

"Wan, tu, tree, fow, fife, seex." I don't want to sound condescending but at least we learned the numbers one through six really well. In fact, I love these kids. They actually enjoy learning english and it is nice to have an informal class room of a home. I know they loving have me around too, based on the smell of my clothes from the cologne testing. My favorite kid (he is actually 21) goes around saying "You are" all the time, and whenever it most inapplicable. Haha, now if I can get him to just finish that sentence.......

Okay now back to the game. "No cheating!!! You mooshenik!!!" I plan on winning or at least helping my ally defeat the evil feminine empire.

This is what you do when you win.

Jump for joy and land softly!!!! (and take a blurry picture)

Here's Some Advice For You.

I haven't blogged in so long my fingers are stiff and I need to once again re-tap into my "train of thought" which creates much of the blogging brillancy you read. Today's train = _________ hold on...I'm thinking. Ah yes, advice.

I have always been one to offer advice whether the advisee wanted it or not. I can't control myself sometimes. I have also been told that I am a good at reading people. So far, so good. Advice, is not really something anyone wants to hear unless they specifically ask for it. Americans especially don't like "un-asked-for" advice. It takes a special trust to ask for and also receive worthwhile advice.

Recently, relationship advice has been a topic of discussion between myself and one of my great friends in the states. So far, we have basically called each others shots from afar and predicted what was going to happen eachothers lives. We also have offered eachother advice that was trusting and productive. The funny thing is...we don't even know the person that we are advising about. I mean I know my friend and she knows me but the other factors in the equation are unknown to either of us, other than a brief description the people and a bit of the situation. What is really cool though, is that we both knew exactly what to say to eachother. And this leads me to my point.

Advice is really helpful. (Wow, Right? Deep!!!) Instead of living through life thinking that we can handle any situation that comes our way is really....well....stupid. Life is meant to be lived together and shared. Here is the real kicker though. While my friend and I are exchanging advice, we are seeking more information about but the whole time we really are focused the person we are advising not the situation at hand. Knowing that person better and better and finding out new peculiarities about their personality is unexplainably addictive. Discovering new and fun facts about our friends that, even though they may 6,000 something miles away, is something that I have enjoyed in my life recently.

So this brings up another point that I mentioned briefly earlier. I mentioned that we both have a very little information about the situations we are both in. But, what is fascinating is, that we both have been really good at calling the shots in these respective situations. You know why? Because we know eachother. We know eachother well enough to know how these situations will most likely end up. I don't credit for being a fortune-teller but I do take credit for being a friend, and vice-versa for her.

We did not need to know the entire situation to know the truth, the outcome. We knew eachother, our tendencies, personality.

-Do we need every fact about everything before making a decision?
-Do we know enough about ourselves to make a decision? If we don't, are we confident and trusting enough to ask someone?
-Do we have to be doctors to lend someone meaningful advice?
-Are we bold enough to give advice that hurts? Not, just be a "YES" man.
-Are we bold enough to act on someone else's advice and not our own intuition?

Give me some advice on what I should write about next. Funny, sad, poetic, artsy, deep, story, real life, etc.

Lord of The Rings in Bulgarski

Forrest Gump once said, "Stupid is as stupid does." That quote rang so very true last night at my bulgarian language tutoring session. My tutor is trying a new learning strategy with me and, well, needless to say, it is really tough.

Together we are reading Lord of the Rings - Fellowship of the Ring. Now...I have read this book and watched the movies several times during famous Lord of The Rings marathons. Throw all that previous knowledge and understanding out the window when trying to read novels in bulgarian.

Bilbo 'Torbins' (not Baggins) is the main character of the first part of the book. Don't ask me why Baggins is not a direct translation. Must be because the word for "bag" in bulgarian is "torbichka", therefore Torbins. Haha I got a laugh when I actually figured that out too. Either way, we all how the story goes and so did I when I read it...back in high school...in english. Yesterday however, it was like I had amnesia and just forgot the entire plot. Or maybe because it is such a familiar text to me that when I saw it distorted in bulgarian, I became confused about what I was reading. Maybe I am not as good at bulgarian as I thought. Or maybe, because I haven't had a tutoring session in 3 weeks, eeeeekkk.

However, this humbling experience is teaching me way more words than a silly grammar or vocab lesson. The prose of the book uses words that are really useful...and then again some not so useful, for example НЕИЗЧЕРПАЕМА (inexhaustible) and ГРАФСТВОТО (shire). I will probably never use either of these words again, but hey it is actually kinda fun learning things indirectly like this. After only 4 paragraphs we stopped. Tired from one hour of reading, translating and re-reading we called it quits.

Bilbo Torbins hasn't even had his birthday party yet. Gandalf hasn't been introduced. And I await to see how may days it takes us to actually set out on our journey to Mordor! I am not sure two years will be enough time to even finish the first half of the first book in the trilogy. Ugh, but if there are more unuseful words like неизчерранамфнаосдгиагкнг;ахг, then it may take even longer.

Last night I never felt more stupid in my life. But I think that will be a one time event ;)

I'm saying goodbye and leaving it behind.

Is he leaving Bulgaria? Is he quitting Peace Corps? Is he depressed? After reading the title of this post I am sure that you are a bit interested in what it is I am talking about. Well, I will tell you.

There are some things in my life that are beneficial, useful, fun, and even necessary. No, I have not decided to leave PC or Bulgaria or Life. I just have decided to disconnect my TV. I really see it as a hinderance and distraction to my life hear in Bulgaria. Sure, it has it perks. I can watch CNN in English. I can watch discovery channel in Bulgarian or catch every soccer match...EVER. I can even catch up on the lastest Romanian Lifetime channel, which is in English surprisingly.

However, the upside of a TV does not outweigh the downside of it. I find myself glued to it when it is sunny and beautiful outside because there is some great episode about sharks coming on in 30 minutes. Don't wanna miss that! No, really, the TV is taking away from my experience here. The everpresent ability to turn it on and watch something is a real distraction, not only from Bulgarian life but from my life in general.

The worst part about it is the "late night programming". I am not gonna go into it because I know we all know what I am talking about. This distraction has hurt most of all and therefore it is time for the TV to go. It will now sit in the part of the house that I rarely access. Out of site out of mind!

For all of those PC volunteers that don't have a TV...please don't ever want one during your service! Forgive me for you not being able to relate to the reality that TV, is a major distraction and hinderance.

Due to all my free time now I will devote more of my time to learning my guitar, reading my library, and becoming the next chef-boyardee! I will probably write more on my blog too.

I know I won't regret this decision. I promise. I just regret that I didn't do this about 3 months ago.

I am saying goodbye and leaving it behind!!!

Any EVERYDAY Activity

Listening to music (Shout out to "Mumford and Sons"), playing a guitar, singing, facebooking, and writing. My ADD has struck once again!!! And it will most likely take 3 hours to write this entry when it easily could be written in 20 minutes. I like it this way because it has become my stereotypical "ADD wanna ride bikes" scapegoat. 6 activities at once, if you include thinking as one. Some would call this multi-tasking yet others just scoff at the unproductiveness of my activities. I call it being thankful!

As some of you may know, I spent last week on vacation with a friend from my beautiful hometown. We traveled through Bulgaria and had a blast finding adventure every second of the day. Whether it be hitch-hiking, swim-suit optional mineral baths, hiking in the mountains in the dark, exploring old communist monuments, or sleeping in a cave, I am extremely thankful for the time that we got to spend traveling.

Again my appreciation overflows. This time however for the hospitality that all the awesome PC volunteers showed us as we traveled. A huge hug and thanks goes out to these people for letting us stay with them:
Lexi
Meg
Aaron
Semah
Aaron & Sara
Greg

(Guitar break)

If I forgot anyone I am sorry, but you know who you are, so give yourselves a super-sized pat on the back. ;0

Another thing that spurred me to write was the phone call that I had with my dad today. Among much of the struggle of life and the trials that we all go through I am so thankful that I have two amazing parents that still love each other and are TOGETHER.

Parent Glamour Shot

Divorce, death, arguments, betrayal, anything that seperates people, permeates this world. This devisiveness is "together" with the world. All of these things are present in my life. Not "with" me, but among people I know and people that are good. It makes me ask, well before Thanksgiving day, what am I thankful for?

(Singing break)

Here are some things. My family and wonderful parents. My friends that put up with my quirky and sometimes "brattiness". A loving God. Internet and all the amenities I have that bring my world together haha. Music that lifts my soul and writing that expresses it. And my soul itself.

Being together is a not just being with one another in person. It is connecting with the people and souls around you. I don't want to sound to much like "Avatar" but it is really the truth. I may not be 9 feet tall, blue, and have a pony-tail with a squid on the end of it, but I do know what it means to be together.

Again with so much seperation and loss in my life recently, I find it comforting to know that I am still together with what I love most. And for that I am thankful everyday, not just the last Thursday of November.

Now after writing this at the same time as facebooking, listening to music, playing guitar, singing, and thinking, I have freed myself to go be together with much more important aspects of life...reading and humbling ;)

I am thankful everyday. Let someone you know, know how thankful you are. Make it an everyday activity...

The Stuttering Writer

Stuttering Writer

I-I-I-I am telling you some truth, about a pers-s-son with great uniqueness. Whenever there happens to b-b-b-be something important worth writing, literary awesomenessssssss occurs. Off his uncontrolable lips comes faaascinaaating sounds from this man empowered with quirky skills. When he t-taaaaa-talks attention attracts towards him. Wh-wha-why? Repetition does not take place, just express-sh-sh-sions created deep inside. Nothing odd, nooooor strange. The infamous stt-stut-stutter-stutteriiiiiing writer never said more than one word twice in life.

Halloween Hike Tradition

Halloween is a time for get-togethers, costumes, zombies, pumpkin carving, and other traditions. My new tradition is the Halloween Hike. I initiated it last year when I was in Washington D.C. On Halloween, instead of partying in D.C. I high-tailed it out to the Applachian trail at 6 in the morning. I had done my trail research and hiked 13 miles up through Shenandoah National Park and to Blue Ridge Highway. I only lost the trail, which was covered in leaves, once. I saw an Appalachian black bear, plenty of deer, and other wildlife. I excruciatingly hiked the 13 miles back to my car with a bruised foot (I stubbed it on a rock hidden under the fallen leaves), aching joints and a fatigue that had made me so tired that I teared up when I got back to my car. Haha

~26 miles and 9 hours later I had completed the first annual Halloween Hike. The Appalachian trail is one of the most beautiful areas to hike and I would recommend it to anyone. However, this year I didn't want to make it a solo trip, but needed to expand the great experience to my fellow volunteers and Bulgarian friends. No Bulgarians were too keen on joining in on planned 20+ mile hike but me and my fellow adventurous volunteers were more than up to the challenge. However mother nature didn't cooperate and made the mountains impassable with 2 feet of snow.

But you can't stop a tradition once you start it and so PLAN B was inacted. A less grueling and more "passable" hike from the town of Gotse Delchev to the village of Delchevo and then to the monastery on top of the mountain. The pictures that follow are enough to explain the experience:










In total there were 7 adventurers who tackled the winding and steep road/trail to Delchevo and then on to the top of the mountain.
The views = amazing
The people = troopers
The feet = sore from walking on a road in hiking boots.

Next year we are going to keep the tradition going. I am hoping to have more people involved. I want suggestions on an awesome place to hike, in or outside of Bulgaria. This doesn't mean we can only hike on Halloween, but it does mean that this tradition will live on wherever I am.

Mental Kung-FU

My left brain is punching my right brain.
Ideas bouncing into each other and not say "excuse me."
Boredom is conquering adventure.
Sunshine is burning the clouds.
My eyes are heavy from lack of interest.

Daily mental fights occur.
Good vs. Evil
Right vs. Wrong
Adventure vs. Boredom
Offense vs. Non-Taken

Really taxing, is the battle.
No blood, no bruises, no harm.
No brain cells left for thinking.

I was once told I had a very active mind.
This is exactly what some call ADD, a burden.
Others would say it is creativity, a blessing.
I Can't tell you exactly the diagnosis.
There is no defect.

I can't disengage sometimes from the overwhelming lack of peace inside my head.
It isn't a headache.
It isn't a dull discomfort.
It isn't even a twinge.

It is a constant train of thought.
An unstoppable visual arcade of memory, thoughts, hopes.
A one-way street of traffic for miles

Do you understand?
Can you relate?

1 minute before I started writing I seriously didn't know what I was gonna write about. I simply wrote.

The idea/thought/crazy train keeps on going.

What a reaction. I want more!

What a reaction to my assertion that Boza is the nectar of life. I think maybe I should write more about such controversial subjects such as this. Really it isn't my hearts desire to sway you into thinking that everyone should like Boza. It was more my desire to see who bothers me...haha not really. But seriously, what else could create such a hoopla like this? If I said that the pine tree is the most beautiful tree and all others should be cut down...would that create a stir?

I could sense a bit of sarcasm in some of the comments y'all made, but I am a bit reluctant to say that. Am I right in saying that if it wasn't such a silly topic...none of you would have said anything? The sillyness of it allowed you to say something without feeling like you would be crticized...I understand

What I am trying to say is this...Say what you want to say and I will listen!...even if it is a silly subject or a more serious one. If I write about something more controversial than Boza, I don't know if that is possible :), please write an opinion. I will listen, I promise.

I watched an animation about the educational system the other day about how as we grow older we lose some of our inherant creativity. How we are deadened to things in society that we once were so enthusiastic about when we were younger. I know my parents tease me that when I was I child I asked "why?" to everything. I always had to put my two cents into anything that was going on. I am proposing that we should get back to that investigative state of mind.

Through asking why, how, and tougher questions that dig at the truth and allow us to realize that much of what we think we know is not actually the truth. Let's encourage one another when needed, apologize when necessary, be creative and adventurous and not settle for a one-answer mentality.

Many of you who know me would say, "Now Grant, aren't you being kinda hypocritical by saying you don't want to settle for a one-answer mentality?"

To those people I say "NO, when it happens that there is only one answer then what can I say to change that one answer...nothing."

I want this society, the people, just to open their minds a bit and actually seek out more than one solution to a problem. Go beyond the convenient, search for creative alternatives for the usual ho-hum life. There is no harm in asking, listening, or encouraging. So that is my challenge.

Here is the animation of the educational system I was talking about.

10ish BOTHERSOME REALITIES

The 10ish items below are things that really bother me. They are not in any specific order, and for that matter you could say that they bother me the same amount. Yes that is right...loud eaters bother me just as much political parties. Funny how that all works out ;)

-People who smack their chewing gum: Something the about the noise makes me twinge. I jokingly will blame my mother for this bothering me. She is culprit #1.

-Spelling/grammar mistakes: Because if I "loose" my swimsuit it is actually around my ankles, and I am "exposed". But if I lose my shorts I just go put on my towel and/or find a different pair. GOT IT!

-Loud eaters: Heavy breathing, smacking your lips, saliva squishing around...disgusting!! I am very conscious on whether or not I do this and if others are. I hate it that much...

-Unknowing hypocrits: I suppose all hypocrits don't know they actually are hypocrits, but it is bothersome that some continue to be this way their entire lives.

-Jocks: Ya sure I played sports and wasn't half bad, but my life was never all about the court or the field. Maybe it is just arrogance I can't stand, or the combination of the two.

-Telemarketers: The fact that it is someone's job to have the phone slammed in their face all day bothers me, but it is even funnier when you actually talk to them and say you want to buy 1 million of what they are selling and then pretend that the connection is breaking up. haha I suppose that keeps them calling...but whatever. No telemarketers in Bulgaria.

-People who say "sorry" too much: What are you sorry for? Be sorry if you step on my toe or...punch me in the face. But if you hand me a piece of bread with a bit too much jelly on it...please don't be sorry. Be glad!!

-Lack of action on big problems: If I had a stontinki(a penny) for everytime everyone watched the news about Pakistan and Haiti or some natural disaster and did nothing, but just thought about "How awful" I would be a Bulgarian millionaire. I take this PC experience as training for bigger and more influential service in the future. I can honestly say that I do do something, not just Peace Corps. Will you?

-Customer service representatives: I am not racist but when I have a problem with my American-made products why do I have to talk to someone from India. I have also called once about my insurance policy and talked to 4 different people who all referred me to person before...vicious cycle of annoyance...I might have raised my voice... :0

-Political Parties: Almost more agrivating than the fact that they divide the country, it is that no one realizes that politics shouldn't be a "competition". If I wanted a competition I would join my fellow COD guys and play American football against TEFL volunteers. Oh wait...there is no competition there either. HEHEHE inside joke.

Last but not least...(if you haven't noticed this is #11)

-People who don't like Boza: I am going to take a bit longer to explain this one because my new love affair with "BOZA". For those of you who don't know or just fail to acknowledge its greatness, Boza is a delightful refreshment made corn(maize) puree that has a surprising applesauce taste

Now you may be thinking, "Wow, that sounds disgusting!" But ponder this...imagine you are walking through your town festival. What are the two things you want the most? Apple crisp and corn on the cob?...I think soooo! What could be better than a golden delicious apple and something else golden and delicious...(Corn). It is a natural fit, right.

You know what I love to do with those little apple sauce cups you can get in the states and that your mom packed in your lunchboxes? I like to eat them without a spoon and just slurp the applesauce, and I know you do too. Drinking Boza is basically the same fun. Not only is it fun to drink, it is nutritious. It contains 4 types of vitamin A and B, and vitamin E. And ladies...it supposedly has the ability to enlarge breasts...Don't quote me on the Wikipedia quote!

Another thing to point out is that as a baby, we were all fed some version of corn or apples. Whether it be applesauce, or regular sliced apples, cream corn, or steamed corn, or corn from the baby food jar, we have it in or nature to love this combination. Sure, Boza actually looks a lot like baby food but, did you know it actually has a 1% alcohol content...drink away! Sooo, it may not look great but neither does black death Coke and electric green Mountain Dew, and those both tast great.

Sooo it really bothers me when someone doesn't like Boza. I understand their illogical reasoning, but when a tasty beverage costs 35 stotinki($0.22) you can hardly argue the cost/benefit of buying and enjoying a bottle of the delighful refreshment.

DINNER PLANS

Last night I spent a great time at Mehana with some Belgians and my counterpart and other people. We danced some HORO!! I learned a new dance and was pretty good by the end of the night. Last night left me very unproductive today and also without much of an appetite for much food until after work.

I was on my usual 15 minute walk uphill through town to my house and contimplating what I was gonna do for dinner. I have 2 eggs in my fridge, that'd make a decent omelette. Nah! too much work and I am tired. Maybe just some oreos or an apple.

I came through my door and saw my landlady going into her house. She said to me, "How are you?" I tell her that I am tired and then we go a little farther on our respective ways and then she said to me, "Do you love fish?"

"Uggghhh, of course" I respond.

"Okay, I'll bring you some," she replies.

Well how about that!!! Dinner plans solved!! I still wonder why I never found this in America. It is so common place here that I don't even think twice. I usually treat them back with a treat or something, but still, the initiative on their part is truly loving.

I still had some oreos though.

THE BUS RIDE

Ugh...I'm awake. It's dark. I don't need to check the time, I know it is early. I checked it 10 minutes ago when I woke up, then naturally fell back asleep. It's 4:06...a.m., and I have a road trip ahead of me. I stumble to the shower and wash the germs, grease, and sleep from my body. A short breakfast and a bit of "Word" reading and I am out the door.

The air is crisp, yet I am wearing shorts. My fur keeps me warm. There literally is no one in the streets, so different from my usual 9 o'clock departure for work. My walk to the bus station is brisk because the last thing I want to do is miss a bus this early in the morning. That would be regretable. I walk in the middle of the street, confident that no car will chance appear. As I make my way downhill, subconciously turn my head juuuust to make sure a driver doesn't score 100 points by picking me off. As if I couldn't hear it coming in the silence of the pre-dawn. I pass the strip club and I am at the bus station. A little waiting won't hurt. Two people are already waiting. Their down jackets against my shorts. I truly am a Montanan.

The only two headlights in town roll up and off I go. From my second row seat I can see the road but safe from flying through the windshield if we get into a crash. Everyone is sleeping except me, and thankfully the driver too. My mind is awake, racing, and full of thoughts.

In my thoughts...is baptism necessary for salvation?...How is water a saving factor? Too early and ignorant for me to think about this. Next thought. This thought is fun to think about. Maybe because I love to drive. I am determined to drive from Bulgaria to either Portugal, Ireland, or China. What about logistics? We'll (Because there must be more than one) have to buy a pimpin car. A 70's era Lada perhaps will do the trick. $1500 leva maybe..Not much, seeing as how we are on a PCV budget. To China would be amazing. Through Russia, Kahzakstan, Mongolia. Would a car make it that far? The southern route is out of the question. I don;t feel like spending time in a prison mistaken for a spy. The Urals...maybe do some bear watching. See the Great China Wall. Eat some real orange chicken. Oh that is too far in the future. I will ponder that later.

My thoughts are interrupted by the winding road and how the driver insists on trying out for Formula 1 racing in a bus. I trust him, I just don't know for how much longer. We wizz down the mountain road passing a few trucks going the opposite direction. Trucks move, however gaurd rails don't! The driver is ridiculously close to these gaurd rails. Whew! made it passed that one. I see another coming up..."Son a B#$@*" I scream in my head. I don't actually think it but instead scream Son of B, pound sign, money symbol, AT sign, Asterisk. I laugh a bit. It's not like ther are any cars coming. It is as though the line is lava and the driver is a kid in a playground making sure not to touch the ground. It is getting a bit ridiculous.

I am reminded of family trips when my mom and dad are driving, driver and co-pilot. "Neil get off the center line" my mom would scream. "Oh gees!!" "Use your signal!" "Are you looking at the road?" "Do you want me to drive?" All famous quotes from my mother to my father while driving. I think of them in this situation because I feel like my mother right now, but somehow I don't think the driver will respond to, "Would you get off the edge of the road, you're gonna get us killed!" I don't know how to say that in Bulgarian either. I let it go, and trust that Mario Andretti will get me to where I'm going.

The moon is out. Bright and not a cloud in the sky. Bright enough to attempt driving without headlights. Wait, wait, wait!! Not with this tunnel-visioned escort. But we would save energy!...Ya! two headlights at a time! It was worth a shot. If I was driving I totally would have.

My mind wanders with fleeting thoughts. We are coming up to a tunnel. Believe it or not, but tunnels are the brighter at night. I'll let you ponder that one.

We fly around a curve and a metal object clangs the bus floor. Obviously falling off of the seat. C'mon man you're gonna wake everyone up. Just a bit of a distraction from my trance of thought. I try to guess what it was. I don't want to make a scene by turning and staring. A lawn chair, Baba baggage cart, a flip chart stand, I don't know. Whatever! I am really not interested.

I'm beginning to feel tiredness come upon me. I yawn to try to stay awake. As the sun begins to rise my eyelids begin to fall.

We make it to our destination. The racecar is intact, everyone alive. Turns out that the metal object that crashed to the floor was a barbeque...mmm steak. :)

This car lives in Bansko. It could've been my bus but wasn't.

IT IS INSIDE US ALL

All these things I can't describe and rather I didn't even try. I may not be able to explain everything but I will lie about nothing. The truth is found on my lips as I desire to please and not deceive. Please don't cry you liar, as I fool you with the truth. I define what is real by reading and studying. I take not from evil because I know that things are broken. There are many things left unsaid, and cowardly I hang my head. I wish only for a shoulder for my tears as you lie to me and try to sway the truth. Oh please don't cry because I don't lie. Don't be stunned when it captures your heart--the truth is amazing. When you find it, all you want to do is tell anyone else. I desire few things in this world, truth and fellowship being two of few.

.......This man was all alone; he had neither son nor brother. There was no end to his toil, yet his eyes were not content with his wealth. Wealth that he didn't even know. The wealth of breath, knowledge, and potential for truth. "For whom am I toiling," he asked, "and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?" Oh this too is meaningless--a miserable business and existence!
To this man I say, "Two are better than one, because they have good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man the who falls and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one can be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not easily broken."

You see this fellowship is not just for mere survival but for growth and encouragement. Without it we are somewhat lost, and struggle to see what we toil for. The truth is woven into this lovely life: the relationships we nurture. Jumps of excitement from your brother, tears of sorrow from your mother, sister's screams for help. What in all of it binds it together? Truth is, we would do anything to help any of these people: our brother, mother, sister. What about this man toiling aimlessly in life, for all this wealth? Would we toil with him? Would we fool him with the truth? How should we show him fellowship?

Use your heart once more. There is a reason that we adore the meaning of truth. Because has been set in all of our hearts. It is bleeding out of some and locked deep inside of others, undiscovered. The eternity of truth scares us all, but truly, it is simple! Will we weep until we find the courage to stop being a coward and just tell this man the truth? How can I sit here and let someone be so lonely while I sit with such a wealth of fellowship and truth?

I say to this man, "Sir. I want to share with you the truth. I want to fool you. It may seem odd to hear what I have to say, but please listen....There is a way that seems right to men, but in the end it leads to death. The truth has been spoken, it is speaking, and will be spoken. I tell you this now because I if I don't I may never be able to tell you again."

So I proceeded to tell him the truth, and you what he said. He said--I've never heard this truth before, but it is undeniable.--He began to weep because his heart was shaken. What was locked deep inside came bleeding out. It flowed. It lived. Together we stood up. I lifted his head off my wet shoulder and told him, "I almost didn't tell you anything..."

Truth must be spoken and can not remain silent.

Together we had fellowship and held fast with all we had. No one could push us down. And we would not be broken. The truth remained.

THAT WAS VERY POETIC OF YOU

I don’t have a favorite

No flowery language love affair

No passion for prose

No righteousness for rhyme

Just an alliteration allstar

A masterful manipulation of words

Flowing river of intellect

Poetry is simply a sentence without end

Breathe in and out,

Scream and shout,

Without a period or a or exclamation to stop

What comes, is, and, will be spoken and heard

The end comes when I say:

STIGA!

(This is a poem about poems from someone(me) who is not a huge poem reader)

Am I Psychiatrist?....Psychologist?

C'mon you know you have one. I am not talking about a personality, a bellybutton, or a cellphone. Nope this is one that you would probably never guess...A denial. And when you read the last two words of that sentence, what did you think to yourself? No I don't!? What is he talking about? Like it or not this is how we spell addiction, "D-E-N-I-A-L".

Now I don't want to take a serious tone with this subject because I feel that is the way that it is usually handled. But recently I have spotted a few denials in my life. One being a denial that I am addicted and somewhat attached to internet. Another is that I deny the fact that I am not living in a way that I actually want to. To explain this further...I am not living the way that I feel I want/need to and I deny that fact and just simply say, "Whatever, I'll be that man someday."

Well daily I am constrained to see myself in a place with so many opportunities for success and growth and yet I drag myself backwards with denials in my life. Are you feeling like this is the case in your life? Comment if you do.

Honestly I have the answer to my denials in my life and I would be happy to share anytime, but I cannot tell you how to combat these hinderances and live more free. I can only offer advice and listen.

You are probably confused by what in the world I am talking about. But maybe to lighten the mood even further, here is a great picture of my colleague in a rabbit costume.

You can't DENY the ridiculousness of this!!!

"Made a Funny"

So, I am gonna start out by saying I'm not the funniest person in the world. I have my moments. Around certain people I am funnier than when I am around others. Other times people are the ones who bring out the funny side in me. Most of my humor is a conglomeration of wittyness, sarcasm, stupidity, and the occasional actual joke. I laugh from all sorts of things, jokes, sarcasm, silly actions, and situational humor. A very wise person I know (Christina Bakke) told me before I left for Bulgaria that it was going to be hard to adjust simply because I would not have the humor aspect of my language. Granted, compared to Americans, Bulgarians are probably not as funny. But boy was she right...

In Bulgaria I find myself getting my laughs from the oddities of Bulgarian life, or something I said wrong and everyone except me is laughing (That doesn't count as humor). I also love hanging with other Americans because we laugh together sooooo fricken much, and I love that. I can't remember more times in my life than in Bulgaria that I have been brought to tears because of laughter. It is always nice to have that outlet. Until today I have been rendered humorless except for the American gatherings. Now I will tell you why.

A bit of background...The national park I work for held an art contest a couple months back and received the art earlier this week that kids from all over Bulgaria sent in for the contest. The theme for the contest was "One Planet One Future". In total we got 22 entries that we judged today. We hung up the artwork around the room and began to talk about which ones we liked and didn't. It was a real jury deliberation. In true Bulgarian fashion we spent over an hour just contimplating which pictures were better than others. Things were really going well until we came to this picture below.


Now remember that the theme is "One Planet One Future" and it was keying on biodiversity. My counterpart and the other female in the jury really loved this picture because it was "well done" and "technical"....sure. Now, I am not knocking the artist but my argument was...how does this represent biodiversity? My colleagues argued that cats are wildlife and that the picture represented this girls connection to nature through being a cat-lover...Well that is swell...I suppose

Now this is where I got become my true humorous sarcastic self and critique my colleagues opinion. I pointed out to them the squirrel in the background and said, "Look at the squirrel he is alone and lonely, that is a bad future!" Ahahahahaha my colleagues loved it and then I pointed out, "There are too many stray cats in Bansko anyways." Oh man did it feel good actually make someone laugh without being an idiot for saying something wrong. I know what I said was not perfect but it came across as funny and that is what makes me happy to know that I finally made a funny in Bulgaria. There was more to the conversation that was funny but I finally feel like I arrived in Bulgaria...all of me. I feel like they don't know the true me...the funny me. But now they do and I hope that it will continue.

Oh man you shoulda been there!!!!

Not a dream

I awoke one morning still dreaming wide awake...or was I. Before me was a vertical intersection of knots, splinters, thorns, and rusty spikes. Its height was defying and it weighed just as much as a servant could pull on his back. Craftsmanship coupled with death, a truly torturous combination. Surrounding me stands a mixed crowd. Jeers of approval and tears of utter sadness. A liar, imposter, theif, a human. A mother in the crowd cannot hold back her tears. She is comforted by followers and family. Why the tears? Only a mother can know. I look around again. More eyes gazing upon the same scene as me begin to shed tears. Ignorance continues in others. A mother's love, true love, truth, immortal. Blood is dripping into the same dust and soil that the crowd is standing on. If they only knew. I am not blind, I know exactly what I am looking at. I think? A cost, burdened yet freed, a payment. What in the world?

Clouds are beginning to gather overhead. Wind is picking up and tears from the heavens begin to saturate the parched Earth below. For such beauty, unbeautiful weather. Is it anger, rage, understanding, something planned? The sun peeks below the troubling scene overhead. The shadows are elonganted across this deathly steep hill.

I glance up and lock eyes with a seemingly loving man. His arms are spread wide as he gracefully peers down at me from his vantage. He doesn't smile. His eyes wincing from the pain of the wind in his face. It seems as though something is bothering him. He questions me from his perspective, "Do you know why you are here?"

Suprised I respond, "Actually. NO? I think I do?"

Even farther he digs, "Have you paid to be here?"

"Nope, I haven't. Should I?"

Generously he responds, "Don't worry I'll cover you"

Appreciatively I reply, "Hey, thank you sir!"

With a concerned tone in his voice, "Do you know how much I payed for this view? To be here today?"

Quickly I say, "No, I don't but you must be gener..."

"Everything", he utters politely cutting me off.

I realize I am still awake as I peacefully gaze around my room. The sun is rising in the east and brightening my room. The grills in the window have created a cross-shaped shadow upon the cold concrete wall across from them. I am not who I was.

Free Writing

Watching the sun set behind the mountains and writing in my journal. Where am I again? Oh ya, Bulgaria. I smell a sweet scent in the air, something like fresh baked cookies. From WHERE? I have no idea, but I smell it...& I want it!! Chalga music is playing in the distance...nothing new...still annoying, but I am in the middle of nowhere and I hear it. (Lovely) I've seen better sunsets than the one I am looking at currently but the planes traveling across the sky peak my interest. They appear to be on fire with the trail of smoke chasing them but as we knowledged folk know, it's just CO2.

It is definitely autumn now. The crispness in the air is undeniable. There is a hotel called "Everest" sitting on the hill below me. Oh how the sky fades from from blue to orange better than any attempt of the best artist. It doesn't even burn anything as it lights the sky on fire. Just a simple rotation of the Earth. Chalga louder.............The ski hill is waiting my arrival yet the fields below still have not been harvested. WAIT, mountain, we have all winter for me to carve your slopes and leap from your cliffs. All of this world in front of me; don't even get me started on the unseen behind.

Away from the sun is plainer, darker, lacking appeal. Although, the rutted road winding into the hills draws my gaze and changes my opinion of dull and drab. The blue sky above me fades gently again into a soft purple across the horizon. Or maybe this is an optical illusion along the forested hills. Believe it or not, there is a rock formation on the far hills in the exact shape of a "W". Winter? What? Wisdom? George? Worship? Wind? Dang! The crisp air was not just in front of me but also behind...all around. The wind makes my writing a bit slow. The way I walked in on is well-hidden in the wheat grass surrounding me. What in the world is with all these W's. I'm withdrawing. It seems the "W" on the hill is willing me to write alliterations. Oh well! As the sun wanes from the evening sky, I conclude this passage with an Amen and Halleluja to the One who created it all.

I just wanted to climb rocks!

I was bored a few weeks ago so I decided to take a lil hikey-poo! I had seen on my many bus rides a group of cliffs right at the edge of the mountains. It had been calling my name since the first time I had seen it. Oh man was excited to go maybe do a bit of rock climbing...on my own:)

I set out around 6:30 pm thinking there would be plenty of time to get out there and do about 30 minutes bouldering. Wonderful!! There was plenty of light and plenty of thoughts to myself, "How far is this dang thing?" It was about 5km from my house and across farm fields, unmarked roads, and magical forest trails. It also led me to an aquaduct...Ya check it out. I walked across it, rebar sticking out and all.


Everything was going great until I lost the trail and decided to climb through the undregrowth that had grown over my head. probably a 55 degree angle. I wasn't sweating until then. So that little detour brought me to the top of the rock outcropping...not exactly the best place to boulder without a rope. So instead I decided to take cheesy pics of myself. Woohoo!!



While I was there, on top of this rock outcropping I couldn't help but notice the beautiful sunset that was forming on the horizon. It reminded of the beautiful Montana sunsets. Purples, yellows, reds, and of course blues were streaming across the sky as I just got to sit there in somewhat silence.


I say somewhat silence because I couldn't help but notice the trickle or flow of water that was "roaring" below me. I was not hesitant to find out what exactly it was...basically because I new what it was...a waterfall, silly! I climbed back into the darkness of the undergrowth that had created gloomy shadow over the stream. What I came upon was simply amazing and more than what I expected. It was so beautiful I had to get a blurry photo of it for record.


So what I wanted to be just a lil hikey-poo and bouldering session turned into so much more and I can only thank God that it did. And since I got only a blurry photo of it, this means that I have to go back soon. I just wanted to climb rocks!!

Fashionably Late and Early

For the last week I have been on the road, going to conferences and volunteer site visit to learn more about how to be an effective volunteer. Except I learn more about being a volunteer when nothing is planned yet you just go and do whatever anyways. Does that make sense?

For the last few days I was visiting a volunteer about 8 hours away from me by bus. As the crow flies it was maybe 75 miles. I was visiting him to learn more about geo-cacheing as well as enjoy a summer get together that he was putting on for his village. We ate good bbq and played amazingly intense games of "Koob", or however its spelled. We also were blessed with the presence of "Kino na Celo" which is a volunteer's program to bring a projector and movie to villages for a movie night. We watched the movie "Up" it at the most beautiful setting I think anyone could imagine.


That stuff is all well and good but none of this beats the ridiculousness of the trip home. I am laughing on the inside just thinking about it. It was Sunday and we were set that we were going to take a bus to Plovdiv at 12:10pm, for those of you who don't know Plovdiv is BG's second largest city. So on Sunday we woke up and went to the cafe and had the typical morning coffee and banitza. We had decided that because no one was really in a hurry we would just walk down to the bus stop which was probably 5km away (all downhill). We knew the hike would take us about 40 minutes to do and so we gave ourselves plenty of time and left the cafe at 11 am.

We thought we knew the way down and we started off on the right path but got lost about 20 minutes in. Luckily some people were around farming their and pointed us in the right direction...basically...downhill. We made our way through a large ravine and up the other side and then started fast walking downhill...because it was easier. We lost the path a few times and made sure to keep in mind that we had to be at the bus stop by 12:10pm. After a bit of bush-whacking and skillful navigating (mind you, all downhill) we came to a logging road that led downhill.

We had made it...We hadn't looked at our watches for awhile and when we made it to the road it was about 11:45 and we were still aways away from the town. That is when I decided that I needed to run and so did everyone else. I started running with my large hiking backpack on and so did the other guys that had to make te bus...the 3 others slacked because they were staying...whatever. We weaved our way down the switchbacks and through the creeks and mud and finally after about 15 minutes of running downhill we came out of the forest and to the bridge that crossed the river about half a mile from the bus stop.

As we were crossing the bridge I saw the bus we were supposed to be on and cringed and yelled "Nooooo" It was passing us and hopefully it would stop at the bus stop long enough for us to get on. On the other side of the bridge was the dagger...an uphill!! We had been running with our packs for so long downhill that we had no energy and endurance for an uphill...shooooot!!! Midway up the hill I saw the bus leave the town and continue on, again another fashionably late moment that didn't go our way. We strolled into town huffin and puffin like the big bad wolf and asked if that was the bus to Plovdiv. Of course it was!! Dangit!!

The 3 of us who needed a bus changed our sweaty t-shirts and started that whole hitch-hiking thing...unsuccessfully. At around 1pm to our surprise we were actually just fashionably early for the 1pm bus to Plovdiv, which we knew absolutely nothing about. What a blessing!

I told the bus driver I was going to Bansko and if I would make it to Plovdiv in time to get a bus. He said he didn't know but would try to get me there...okay. After a motion-sickness inducing bus ride out of the mountains we made it to Plovdiv. In the city we were driving down a main street when the bus driver just suddenly slams on his brakes. He was talking to the other bus driver going the other way. Then he yells back "Bansko, Bansko" and waves me forward. He had found me a bus to Bansko in the middle of street. Yess!!! I grabbed my bags and hurried to the bus headed to Bansko...Fashionably late!

And this is what I saw when I returned to Bansko! :0

The Crap we Find on the Internet

Thanks to the wonderul Stephanie Dunnam I have now been enlightened to what a Juggalo is. Nope! Not a giggalo! Urban Dictionay describes a juggalo as:

For the most part, an uneducated, pathetic excuse for a human being who listens to the group ICP who are bold enough to actually consider themselves musicians. People you see wearing "hatchet-man" accesories. They should not be allowed to reproduce, because that is too cruel to future generations. ICP isn't rap, it isn't metal, it isn't rap/metal, and it isn't horrorpop. There is only one way to properly categorize ICP; unnecessarily and unartfully offensive and obnoxious noise.

Then in my research I found this hilarious picture and decided that everyone needed to see it. I literally laughed for a good 12 minutes...and I still kinda am.



Can you actually think of a more dope rhyme for a track? Or maybe I should say excuse for attention. Either way it is hilarious and I would have loved to be the reporter. I would have been laughing my anus off!

My wish in Bulgaria!

With all the time I have at work these days I have resurrected the good ole past time of Youtubin'! And I found a bit of what I wish for in my Bulgarian winter. Please!



This may become a reality seeing as how I met a ski patroller the other day that could be my "in" for some slick deals for ski tickets and skis....oooolala

Anyone care to join in some happy ruckus!!!

Banitza Walk

A classic fresh, slightly-unripe peach that comes from a reputable, generous market vendor just couldn't satisy my hunger today (even if I used 5 adjectives to describe it) Don't get me wrong, It was Delicious (with a big "D", and I don't mean Dallas). I better stop inserting parentheses thoughts and just say them...(okay I'm done)

Anyways, I wanted to say that there is a little business in my town that sells 1 lev banitza's. Equivalent to about 66.6 cents in America. Hopefully that will set the stage for you to understand exactly how good this oily little snack was.



You see this picture...That is $.66

How, you ask? Well let's see. I think they can justify it not simply on the amount of food, well, because it is a lot...at least 1 American dollar. The justiication is probably because in that $.66 of food the amount of oil, fat, and other "great for your health" ingredients bring the value down by 33%. Which in my case is a blessing because I only had 1 leva today and that is what I got.

I got something so delicious, that it was gone by the time I got back to work. All my co-workers asked, "Where did you go?" I tried to explain to them that I ate my lunch/banitza on the way back. Futile effort...I got more of an astounded, "you silly American" look on their face.

As I write the oil is starting to create a pit in my stomach...just the way I like it. That heavy feeling just after eating the dessert you shouldn't have eaten after Thanksgiving dinner. MMMMM! I can't justify the walk up to get it as enough exercise to compensate or my meal of a veggie omelete tonight as a guilt meal. I have learned hear in Bulgaria. You can look good without working out.

But then again maybe they don't eat banitza's everyday, and neither do I (But I could).

Bon Appetite! (Bulgarian's use it)

I love country music

When I was growing up country music was all I listened to but I didn't want to, it because I had no choice while riding in the car with my parents. They said,"it is the only decent music out there, these days." I didn't believe that...because there were really cool bands like, for example-- Smashmouth, Weird Al, and Backstreet Boys (Ya what!).

We lived in Chicago so country music didn't fit and I felt like we were a bunch of hicks from the far northwest suburbs. Hmmph, I just wanted some "Allstar" by Smashmouth but what I got was "Achey Brakey Heart" by Billy Ray Cyrus. Can you even compare those...(or contrast)

So when we moved to Montana when I was ten I just was submissive in my rebellion against it because..well...everyone was listening to it, So I just went along with it. Into my teenage years I had done everything to reject country music, I would be a menace with the car radio and always have some rock, raggae, or punk music on. I was super cool ;)


In college I had a mjor revelation as to how backwards my thinking towards country music was. I liked to sing to songs and such and well that is really hard to do when listening to scream-o music like Linkin Park. I found myself singing along with Keith Urban, Toby Keith, and Josh Turner. Huh? What? It kinda a just happened. What I hated in my youth I found to be a real passion of mine. Even taking up country dancing and actually loving it. I now do not feel out of place in a line dance or at a country western bar.

Blame it on Montana. Blame it on genetics. Blame it on upbringing. Or even blame it on just good music, but country music makes me just a little more of who I am. So as I sit in Bulgaria and am tortured by Chalga music, country music from Grooveshark.com brings me to where I need to be. Yeehaa!

They never said it would be this hard! Oh wait.....

I feel like a hermit at night and a deaf mute during the day--Difficult way of life and not one I envy.

Growing up in Bulgaria with my 4 other brothers and sisters in Kravoder was a fantastic childhood. Our childhood was filled with education and loving parents that fed us too much and even washed our clothes. Our sensei, Lazar, raised us to be Bulgarian imitators with such fine language skills that people would think we are average Bulgarians. We had many field trips to the big city for extended family get togethers. We were able to play soccer with kids our own age (8-16). We felt like we would do wonders for Bulgaria......Flash forward 3 weeks past "elementary school graduation" ceremony.....

I am not going to speak anything profound here because I know my fellow volunteers feel the same way. I am just going to try and put it my own words.

They never said it would be this hard! Oh wait.....

All throughout the PCV training we were made well aware of how we would feel isolated and slightly ineffective, and that to break out of this padded room/straight jacket of community integration we would have to really discover who we are and go out and be a true PCV. This true PCV at first is kind of annoying, and I mean this in the kindest way. Annoying in the fact that, for example:
We ask the same questions over and over.
We don't answer questions correctly.
We have to be told where to go and what to do.
Etc. Etc. Etc.
A true PCV needs to be outrageously outgoing. They need to listen and do what they are told probably more than they want to be. They need to fend for themselves as far as food and shelter are concerned. They need to somehow need to overcome a language barrier that, at times, seems like the Great Wall of China. They need to cure this unwanted deafness and muteness. (is that a word?)

Yet the funny thing is, these "symptoms" or whatever they might be considered, slowly melt and become less problematic tasks and more of a joy of being a PCV. The experience alone of having this be your day to day life for weeks, or months, or even years is something I was not expecting to love as much as I do right now. I had my "debbie downer" depressing days where I felt like going home so I could just be more "comfortable"....whatever. I would trade 2 years of potential daily awkwardness and frusttration for any previous day of comfort and safety in the states.

So when people said, "for the first couple months you are going to go feel useless and like you are in a fishbowl and like you want to leave..." Well that is all true, and we are all experiencing that. But that is what makes it sweet. I love the feeling that I know that I am one among many experiencing this same issue. I also like the fact that all my friends and family back home might not exactly understand the fact that I really don't do a whole lot yet, that I kind of just sit and let things come to me right now...and that is all I am expected to do, but that I will do more in the future when I get rid of my concrete blocks on my feet and pop the bubble of isolation and actually integrate fully into my community.

So ya...They did say that it would be hard. I heard the PC staff and current volunteers. I heard them loud and clear...I just didn't listen to them. Now that I have experienced exactly what they said, I think they are plain honest and super folks...haha

Just always remember!
Ima Vreme, Ima Vreme (There is time, There is time)

Lets spend it awkwardly!

The Way Things are in Bulgaria!

This is my first post on my blog for a very long time. Yes....It is true, "I am a Peace Corps volunteer." I say that a lot to people who I know I have told already, but either way I wanted to update you on a few funny things that I have learned so far in three months that I have been here.

First the funny and sometimes annoying:
1. Margarine is used as Mayonnaise - Neither are too healthy, at least make them taste good. A margarine and salami sandwiches are "tasty" enough....especially for breakfast!
2. Turkish Toilets - Good for "the system" but should come with a splash warning. Nuff said!
3. Being over 5'8" in a house built during communism is a real inconvenience - shower heads hanging from the ceiling will leave scars guaranteed.
4. You can't be shy about underwear. Mine hung on the clothesline in the front yard right next Baba's (grandma's) so all could see. Eh whatev!
5. It doesn't matter if there is only 2 working gears on a public bus...it just has to have four wheels to be used. (Good drivers cost extra)
6. 14 year old in a bar...not unusual
7. 14 year old girls that look 24...bad news
8. I got a black lung in Bulgaria without even smoking a single cigarette...quite a talent.
9. Walking on hot pavement will actually melt your feet. I had a heel-sized blister to prove it.
10. Sweating while you sleep is much the norm.
11. A lot of people say it but now I am beginning to agree and realize that, "Anything can happen Bulgaria!!!"