more better

Gobekli Tepe: The World’s First Temple

2008-10-29T10:30:00.005+01:00

Via Smithsonian.

A new theory of civilization
11,000 years old
6,000 years older than Stonehenge
6,000 years before the invention of writing

"There's more time between Gobekli Tepe and the Sumerian clay tablets [etched in 3300 B.C.] than from Sumer to today," says Gary Rollefson, an archaeologist at Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington.

This is so cool!

Clean on arrival; Bucharest: Part 1

2008-10-28T10:51:00.001+01:00

“What the Fuck was that???” “Yeah man, you just got disinfected.” And yeah, so I was covered in disinfectant because I did not put um my window as I was crossing the beautiful (sunset over the danupe river) border of Romania and Bulgaria. My face, shirt, and the entire train car were covered. Oh well. I was just happy to be in Romania after a very long affair of getting there. See, originally I had tried to get on a bus but I think that I ruined that option for myself. I got in a fight. Over the phone.

So I called the bus company in Ruse, the border town that is maybe two hours from Bucharest, Romania. The women on the line spoke so fast, and when I asked her to repeat herself, she seemed to get really angry. I got off the phone and realized that I was not exactly sure about the information that I received from her. So I called back, and she was all like:
Her: “Mr. I have told you this already, why do you call me again.”
Me: “Look, I am not Bulgarian, as you no doubt can tell” But I am trying really hard to use your language. If you want, we can continue this conversation in English…but I don’t think that you know how. Now, do you think that you could be a little nicer to people who are a little different than you? Your job is to give people like me information, please do not be mean to me when I ask you to do your job. It is what you are paid to do. Will you please talk slower for me.”
Her: “I am sorry Mister, the bus you need leave at 14:00.”
Me: “Thank you!”

I felt so good, like I really accomplished something here: not only does it seem that fluency is really reached when you are angry, I helped change some of the nasty customer service attitudes that are so prevalent here.

I was so wrong.

I arrived at the bus station and quickly found the ticket office for the international company. I locked eyes with HER and we both knew right away who we were to each other. I asked for a ticket and she smiled:
Her: “No.”
Me: “Why”
Her: They are finished, sold out. Have a nice day.”

Oh, how happy that made her.

I found myself to the train station, it was 13:00, and there was a train that was scheduled to leave at 14:00, but it was 5 hours late. Oh well. I bought a ticket (8 euro…not bad) checked my luggage for the hours before the train and walked around ruse a bit. Ruse is a beautiful place. Maybe it is kinda boring, but thus for it is my favorite place to just sit, have a coffee and WATCH everyone walking by. It was sunny and nice. And I was happy.

When the time had come for me to get back to the train station, I arrived on the platform and found a flock of Romanian women waiting with enormous bags of Bulgarian bought products: blankets, sheets, socks, cloths ect. I started talking to one of the women, because she spoke a little Bulgarian, and I tried to understand from her why they were buying all these things. I guess I figured that the economic situation for Romania was similar to Bulgaria when, in fact, it is more developed. The infrastructural differences in Romania was clear as soon as we crossed the boarder: the train stared moving faster because the rails could handel speeds not permitted in Bulgaria. The woman, however, stopped talking to me immediately when I started asking her about the products. Oh well.

I was waiting a loooong time for the train to come, and I really had to piss. I started dancing all over the platform, and I knew that as soon as my train would come I could use the on board restroom. Oh but the train was not coming! And I was too afraid to go and use the bathroom downstairs in case the train did! come. So there was this OTHER train right behind me, which was waiting for my train to arrive to leave on the track that MY train was coming on. I knew I could just hop on this train real quick, piss, and jump off. But the problem is, these trains, have no septic system: just plop, piss, squirt on the tracks. But I was beyond embarrassment: I asked the conductor waiting outside the train door if I could use the toilet.

HER: “No, it goes right on the tracks.”
ME: “I know, but, it, I, ok.”

Then I did a little dance for her, so I could express my PAIN with something other than words. It worked.

HER: “Ok, it is a little one, that you have t make, right?”
ME: “Yeah!!!!”

I jumped on, did my thang and jumped off. The nice conductor lady even watched my bags. How nice. I resumed my pacing on the platform, and a couple minutes later, the conductor approached me and, in a low whisper, said:

HER: “Since I did you a favor, you can do one for me, yeah?”
ME: “Yeah of course, what do you have in mind?”
HER: “Do you have anything that I could…smoke?

And I knew that I had some left over VICTORY brand Bulgarian cigis somewhere in my bag. I pulled them out and she got all disappointed.

HER: “Oh, I thought that since you where American you would have something….. else.”

But she took a victory anyway. Strange, huh? I wonder what she was expecting…..

YES! So I got on my train eventually. And arrived at the big, dark, scary, shadowy GARA DU NORD train station in Bucharest. I felt: big, scared, small, and important all at the same time. I was alone, did not speak that language. Shit: I hadn’t even changed my Euros into Romanian Lei yet. I have traveled a lot since joining the peace corps- Macedonia, Albania, The Netherlands, Germany…but each time I was taken care of. I found a place to change my money…checked the exchange rate on the cell phone to see if it was OK, it wasn’t bad, got some lei and found my way out to the taxis. Now, in Sofia, if you are a foreigner who does not speak Bulgarian you are likely to get entirely fucked over by the taxi drivers. I decoded to have a smoke and just use the time to watch: which taxi drivers were only picking up foreigners? Which taxi companies were Romanians using to drop the off AT the station? What were the differences in the prices? I finally decided on a cab, walked up, and negotiated the price. 20 lei for a 10-minute ride. Yeah, it was not so bad I think. I arrived at the hotel, 21:00.

the village of seslav

2008-09-14T20:59:00.003+02:00

goodbyes are too soon. bye jake.

2008-09-14T20:59:00.001+02:00

rrrrazgrad! aka, home

2008-09-14T20:58:00.001+02:00

"the nature" and bat shit....Senovo!

2008-09-14T20:57:00.000+02:00

ain't no party like a pc party.....in plovdiv

2008-09-14T20:56:00.002+02:00

pri6tigavo....alex's village

2008-09-14T20:56:00.001+02:00

sofia is.......

2008-09-14T20:55:00.002+02:00

and then my best friend arrives.......

2008-09-14T20:55:00.001+02:00

waiting at the airport for jacob!

2008-09-14T20:53:00.000+02:00

and we wait....and we drink.....at the airport

we are lost in a cave

2008-09-13T21:57:00.000+02:00

Resunki!

2008-05-19T14:45:00.003+02:00

The Roma Youth Network of Bulgaria (the youth I work with) hosted an essay and picture painting contest. These pictures are all the entires in the age bracket 7-10 years old.

Husmen4o's graduation!

2008-05-19T14:33:00.002+02:00

"

A roma village party in true village style. These are pictures from one of my better friend's graduation from high school.

I'm Back!

2008-05-19T08:04:00.000+02:00

pop! of the week: Shantel

2008-03-17T22:45:00.001+01:00

I'm not quite sure what's going on here, but it seems like the rest of the world is waking up to the fact that we here in the jello mold of the Balkans know how to kkkkiiiccckkkk it. So here is Western Europe catching on to our Balkan beats, Roma horns, and the curious way of pronouncing disko.

Shantel: Disko Partizani
This video takes place in Turkey (Istanbul I think)

Seriously, if you can get ahold of this album, it is well worth the trouble.

you want more?

and please, check out the website: Disko Partizani

Thanks John!!!!!

Integro!

2008-03-12T10:14:00.001+01:00

I just uploaded this video about my organization to google so we can share it easier. Thought you might be interested.....

blogstarzzzz

2008-03-10T21:39:00.002+01:00

There is something new to hit the Internet! Here is your treat for this week: Blogstars (but i say it like blogstarzzz). This is a new blog that I will contribute to every Monday. Us Blogstarz will be guiding readers through a exploration in the wacky and wonderful of Bulgaria. I hope you enjoy!

Inaugural pop! of the week post:

"It's hard to say exactly what's going on here, but from what I can tell, the sky is just a little bluer and maybe the birds have starting singing a little louder. Yes, that's right my friends, the nauseating and disappointing smell of perhaps the last seven months is quickly dispersing in the quick and fresh spring air. Daily awkward moments thrive in the sunlight, and I’m once again free to walk the streets without fear of snowballs launched at me. Oh there are many things about spring in Bulgaria that we wait throughout winter with anxiety for. Most obvious of course are the cute little sweethearts that eventually turn into street roving maniacs. Well, sure, it is open season for cat sex; but cut and dry, straight to the point, I'm talking about Bulgarian Music Idol.

To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing more serious here (save maybe Hristo Botev's beard) than our annual competition showcasing the best-voiced beauty in all the Balkans.

Look what at what we came up with last year:

and of course, the Balkan Whitney Houston:

This year gets off to an even better start: Ken Lee!

In this weekly Monday post, we will explore all the complexities of Bulgarian pop music. Stay tuned, the fun is just starting."

youth development #two

2008-03-10T21:09:00.003+01:00

The first weekend of March we organized a meeting for the more active members of our youth network to establish concrete plans for our April campaigns. April 8th is International Roma day and our youth of decided to organize three activities: 1) An essay and painting contest for primary and high school students 2) April 8th concerts showcasing Roma dance and song and 3) Earth day clean-ups in both southwest and northeast Bulgaria. We have so much work to do, and so much of my job seems to be about putting out fires between dramatic (and dedicated) youth as well as pushing adults to do what is necessary to help them. Along the way, I have a bunch to learn myself about how to actually do this job. Oh my!

This week I will travel to Sofia to attend a workshop on applying for grants through the new Bulgarian fund created by USAID. then I'm off to Bugras for a celebration of Saint Patrick's day. I'll be sure to bring the camera. Oh, and I just have to tell you about my new kitten. But that will be for later.

4ao.

random

2008-02-28T15:27:00.003+01:00

Before peace corps I had the amazing opportunity to work with many incredible people who lived with Autism. This is a fascinating article (and be sure to watch the video) that explains the relatively new approach of respecting communicative attempts and nontraditional ways of thinking. The Truth About Autism: Scientists Reconsider What They Think They Know

This weekend I am going to Veliko Turnavo with a big group of youth from around the country. We will be planning campaigns for April (Roma day turned into month), developing website ideas, and brainstorming for exchange visits (that I just, minutes ago, got approved!) between other youth networks in Macedonia and Albania. Thankfully another volunteer will be coming with the youth who are from southwest Bulgaria. I am kinda freaking out, because this will be a big test of my 1) responsibility and 2) my Bulgarian.

Also this weekend is a national holdiay celebrating spring, followed by a national holiday celbrating the overthrow of Turkish oppression! Fun!

Next Week promises for you:
1) a full report, with pictures! of Turnavo
2) The return of Chalga Star of the week
3) a surprise.

4ao

Döner

2008-02-26T21:20:00.001+01:00

The Döner kebab, for vegetarians also known as the french fry sandwich

bread

2008-02-22T21:12:00.004+01:00

On cold Bulgarian nights, when the Internet is not stealing my soul, I return to my source and I do the one thing that I know without a doubt I am super at: baking. I am absolutely ecstatic, and maybe a bit silly from drinking leftover beer, because I have come across the most fabulous recipe for beer bread from my : new favorite blog. I have experimented with several different flavors so far but first lets cover the basics. (Disclaimer: I don't measure in any proper or scientific way. And I never have. oops!)

First, establish your measuring base unit. For me, I use this nice 290 gram yogurt container.

What ever you use, try to make sure its bigger than a cup, and just stay consistent through out the recipe. :)

Basic recipe:

*3 Yogurt cups of flour. Use white, or combinations of white, wheat, rye, corn..... whatever. Be sure to use enough wheat (or spelt) to ensure gluten (stickiness) or use a gluten replacer (not available in Bulgaria!) Try to theme the flour to your overall flavor goal.
*Big spoon of baking powder (not soda!)
*Big spoon of honey or white sugar or brown sugar or molasses or maple syrup
*Little spoon of salt
*2 cups of beer. Be creative, and think about the type of bread you want. Use local beer if you can. Because local beer is special. Think about the flavor of the beer, it's sweetness and depth and think about how you want your bread to taste with it.

addons!

1) cirene, goat or sheep or cow 1/2 yogurt cup (or fetta if you are not lucky enough to live in Bulgaria) and rosemary and savory (big spoons)
2) Kashkaval 1/2 yogurt cup (again, Bulgarian cheese. substitute with a basic white cheese) walnuts, roasted cumin
3) Tomatoes and basil and cirene and garlic

whatever!

Mix dry ingredients together. Add addons. Add beer. You want a thick, goopy dough. If you don't think it is goopy enough, add more beer. I don't imagine this will hurt it any. Be careful when adding the beer to the dry, it will fizzzzzz. Line a banista pan (if you don't know what that is, you are not in Bulgaria. In case you could not tell. Use bread pans or metal bowls) with sunflower or olive oil and add batter leaving 1 1/2 inch to the top for rising! I have found that if you drizzel a wee tid bit of beer on the top, it crusts in the nicest way.

oh yeah: bake at 375f for 45 mins. If the top of the bread gets toooo brown, pull it out. You could try to splash a bit of cold water in the oven to play with the consistency of crustiness. Let the bread cool for at least 10 mins because the bread will continue to bake on the inside from steam.

taka!

two places

2008-02-09T20:21:00.000+01:00

I have been amazed at the contrasts that I have seen. I am a Peace Corps volunteer in Bulgaria, but also in the European Union, which is to say that I see two very different places existing in almost the same place. Bulgaria in a country of roughly 9 million people, give or take for immigration to richer western European countries. Out of 9 million, roughly 800,000 of these people are “Roma,” which means that they belong to one of several different sub-groups of European “gypsies.” As a general rule, these two populations, Roma and Bulgarian, live in two worlds. One is for Bulgarians, and it is an incredibly dynamic place that tries its best to integrate into the new Europe. It is not without its own problems: unemployment is high, inflation is up, corruption and organized crime are real, and most able young people prefer to move than to stay. Bulgarian Bulgaria knows that it exists in this in-between place, between two continents, between a thousand cultures, and between a recent past and a future that seems to move faster than they can hold on. Roma Bulgaria is decidedly different. Many Roma live in their own neighborhoods called Mahalas. Some Mahalas are incredibly nice and look exactly like Bulgarian Bulgaria. However, most do not. In the worst Mahalas, roads serve as sewers, children are married at 12, and people live in houses made of trash. When the roads become complete sewers, the only vehicle that can maneuver them is a donkey cart, effectively ensuring that the police and their police cars hold no jurisdiction. When you walk the imaginary line between the two places, you walk between worlds. This past weekend I visited both places. I went to the city of Stara Zagora to visit my friend at her work. She works in the Mahala, in which over 27,000 people live. Here are some pictures:

The last picture is of a school outside of the Mahala, just for contrast. The are pictures of the school yard for the Roma kids. Please note the river of muck that flows through the playground.

After we left the Mahala, we traveled by train to the fabulous city of Plovdiv to celebrate the birthdays of two of my friends. We rented a room in a hostel and went out on the town for two nights, staying up well past 5 am each night. This contrast was really hard for me to take. The issue of equity, for me, now moves beyond fault and into responsibility. One little boy in the Mahala ran up to me and in his impeccable Bulgarian accent yelled “xhello!” When he turned back towards his friends I saw that his ear was covered in gummed up blood that had yet to scab over. The issue here is responsibility, because I have the option to take responsibility. And the realization: my life is different than this little boy not because of any choice I made, or that my parents made, or that his parents made. My life is different because I was born in San Diego County and he was born here….in the mud and excrement of a world that we are really good at forgetting. I don’t know what to do.

My direct bus home from Plovdiv left at 7:30 in the morning, which was exactly 30 minutes after I went to bed. Instead, I woke at 10, and hoped a bus to Sofia, the capital where there were many direct busses to Razgrad. I had a bit of a layover, so I found my way to the fabled vegetarian restaurant, the Dream House, and had the most amazing buffet ever. I say had, because I prolly ate the whole thing….I don’t quite remember, I was tired.

Peace and Blessings.

holy wars

2008-01-12T16:57:00.000+01:00

-“Let’s have the American tell us about what’s going on in America!”
-“Ok, What do you want to know?”
-“Maybe we can start with the war in Iraq? Your president started it, and then you reelected him. Now, according to the TV, most of you don’t like the war. Why?”
-“Well, America is a big place, with a lot of different opinions. I worked on that last election, and in my opinion American’s are easily scared by things that they have had little exposure to, or don’t know much about. That is part of the reason I am here, so Americans can learn about people who are different than them. By playing to that fear, our politicians seem to get away with a lot of unpopular things.”
-“Ok, well what do you think about the build up of NATO forces in Afghanistan?”
-“What do you think about it?”
-“I’m against war. And I am afraid. I am afraid that America will come and bomb our Mahala (Roma neighborhood). I don’t want Americans to kill me and my family because I am a Muslim.”

This was a recent conversation that I had with a young man that lives in my colleague’s village. I traveled to village last month to observe the end to a very special Muslim Holiday. I was welcomed with open arms to pray in their Mosque with all the village men, and everyone wanted to stress to me that their God is practically the same as the God that my country worships. We just worship differently. How do I tell this man that his Mahala is under no threat from our government, when to him, the people that we bomb are exactly the same as him? This young man that I spoke with had some sort of developmental disability that led him to be taken out of school at grade 2. He only spoke Turkish and Romany, so I spoke with him through a translator. I must admit that when he first said “Let’s have the American tell us about what’s going on in America!” I assumed that he was going to ask maybe about if I was friends with 50 cent or Justin Timberlake…which I have been asked about in the past. His depth of understanding in international politics was incredible. And scary. He displayed a perception that many people have. And I think that you should know about it.

youth development

2008-01-11T11:27:00.000+01:00

water! lights! ghosts!

2008-01-10T13:02:00.000+01:00

A few nights ago the radiator in my spare room exploded in an eruption of water and steam that made it all the way down to my down stairs neighbors’ apartment. The police got called, and I became fluent in Bulgarian. But there is a back-story.

About a week after I moved into my flat here in Razgrad I was laying in bed talking on the phone at about 10 pm at night when my door bell buzzed its toxic ear shattering beep. On the other side of the door was a cranky old man who pointed at me, shaking his finger like a catholic nun, and told me I was a bad boy. He told me a lot of things, but at that point my Bulgarian was way underdeveloped. I basically understood that he felt I was being wayyyy to loud in my apartment. Music? I asked. Nope, he answers “ You make that:” “Ti pravish tova!” and he proceeds to stamp his foot on the ground. Okay, not only was I lying in bed when he complained, I wear, in the grand Bulgarian tradition, special house slippers. How could I “praviya toba” with house slippers?

Starting that week I started receiving visits just about every week from my neighbors. At first only the old man showed up, but now his cranky old wife started coming. Her finger waved even more, to the point where the old man would interrupt her ravings to say “relax a bit, he does not know Bulgarian.” Her answer: “oh, He knows, he knows he knows. He is a bad boy.” At this point she decides to introduce their next catch phrase: “Cled put, polistiya!” “Next time, the police!” “Ti pravish tova” had already become a popular joke in my office, with the general understanding that the noises these old people where hearing were in their heads, and not from my floor. Their visits were increasing, and I decided, along with my landlady, to try and set things right. We planed a visit to their apartment with a fresh batch of my own chocolate chips cookies. (Note: the concept of chocolate chips IN cookies is new for Bulgaria, and thanks to yours truly, hitting by force.) Please understand that in Bulgaria, surprising your neighbors with a visit (called na gosti: literally “to guest”) is a high honor that is not to be turned down. This is strange for me, since in America to show up uninvited without calling is extremely rude. However, not only were we refused entrance into their apartment, they wouldn’t even try my cookies. At the door, my landlady negotiated a truce. I would be “quiet” after 10 pm and they were not to bother me under any other circumstances. But it was a lie, I could see it in their eyes, they meant war.

And they gave me war. I imagined them sitting in their apartment every night, waiting for ten, absolutely quiet and absolutely angry at the world, listening for the noises. When they thought they heard something, they would start banging on their roof, my floor, with a broom handle. (Note: As everyone reading this who is in Bulgaria knows, my account is at this point flawed: no brooms have handles in this country. Oops.) My favorite instance of broom handle bangin’ was when my friend Tyler was over. We were sitting on my bed, playing an apparently raucous game of scrabble when the bangin’ started. I have been tempted to bang back, but rather I (gallantly, maybe) let them express their anger without response.

But then a week later they came up to my apartment again! With them came more finger wagging, more accusations (I can understand them now) and more police threats. Little do they know that I have already called the police, and informed them that they may receive these bogus accusations about me. I also had created a coalition of neighbors who love me and are more than willing, probably already have started, to spread vicious rumors around the block. So I reached into my pocket, pulled out my cell phone and handed it to them. “Cled put?(next time)” I said “ne, polistiya trabva da zniat sega che ti imash problem c men. (No, the police should know now that you have a problem with me.)” Low and behold, calling them on their bluff not only made them turn around and go downstairs, but I did not hear from them for weeks. That is, until about 5 in the morning two days ago.

Now, I tell the next part of this story with some hesitation. I live alone, and it is the dead of winter. There are some nights, when wind is howling outside my windows, that I honestly get freaked out, that I fear break ins, ghosts, any number of things that go bump in the night and might be out to get me. So maybe you think I’m crazy, but in the past two weeks some things have been a little strange. Doors left open when I feel for certain that I closed them. Certain personal belongs of mine, like books or cds, I found in peculiar positions. Positions that are not strange per se, but maybe in ways that I don’t quite remember leaving them. Then, the night before the incident with the spare room, I was completing my nightly routine of brushing my teeth turning off the light in the bathroom, and then walking down the dark hallway to my bedroom. I do this every night, and the hallway is always dark because the light does not work there. This walk feeds my fears of communist ghosts. Expect this night the door to the spare room, which is right next to my bathroom, had light showing from the other side. I opened the door, turned of the light, and went to bed. I slept until I was woken by my doorbell, which buzzed its toxic ear shattering beep, and low and BEHOLD my cranky neighbors were on the other side saying something about water. The burst into the apartment, and walked into my spare room, which was a thick fog of steam and hot water. See, the radiators here work on a centralized water heater that flushes them with a constant stream of hot water. This, being the spare room, had its radiator disconnected from the valve that controls the water. On this night, the valve was turned all the way open, and the seal that covered the disconnected pipe had broken. The problem was fixed by simply turning off the valve.

And I was left with a room full of water, and two cranky old people who at this point had started to ask me for money. “What are you going to do about this? Why would you do this? You are a bad boy. We want money.” And here is when I achieved fluency, or at least the semblance there of. I don’t really remember what I said to them. But my rant lasted about five minutes, at the top of my lungs, all in Bulgarian. Yes sir. I stormed out of the room, and decided to call my coworker. He answered, thank god, and I gave the phone to my neighbors. He told them to go down stairs and leave me alone. Five minuets later, my bell buzzed again, and I opened the door, and it was a police officer. The police officer, it turned out, was the son of my down stairs neighbors. He came in with a set of tools, and replaced the seal on the pipes. As it turns out, he is a nice guy. He is worried about his parents and in our discussions my cranky old neighbors become, for me, somebody’s parents. To my disapproval, compassion was dripping into my consciousness for these lonely old pensioners.

My landlady has taken over the deals with the radiator, and my neighbors. I don’t know if they will or have received money. And I don’t want to know. I want a bar lock on my door. And I am about to go get one.

Cheers my loved ones!

Chalga of the week! Teodora!

2007-12-03T16:11:00.000+01:00

Chris and I were suposed to see her at this chalga club...but she never showed! And we broke two glasses, so it was time for us to go.

storming the castle

2007-12-03T15:43:00.000+01:00

My friend Christopher McCarter visited me this weekend. He is studying in Berlin now and took a little side trip down to the BG to check out what was behind this so-called curtain. His perspective is interesting, of course cause he is "like totally" one of my best friends, but also because he already knows the east vs. west complex from living in Germany. We had a bangin time. He came in on Thursday, and helped me teach my English class on Friday. We visited the empty discos here in Razgrad and then bused down to Veliko Turnovo to storm the castle and experience chalga. He left this morning. It felt strange to have a visitor here before I myself am even acclimated to my surroundings. I can honestly say that I am terribly homesick. I wanted to get on the bus with Chris and keep on going with him. I know that my path is incredible, but sometimes it can be lonely. The people here are amazing and my fellow Peace Corps volunteers are great, but I miss my people. BUT it was cool to use my Bulgarian in front of a person who a) did not know Bulgarian and b) could not tell how bad it is. Yes!

i'm sorry. I can't get enough of this.

2007-12-02T16:00:00.000+01:00

and check out this link: http://www.theworld.org/?q=node/3519

two things that freaked me out this week

2007-11-25T16:33:00.000+01:00

the stencil art--that says "capitalism."

some pictures

2007-11-25T16:19:00.000+01:00

from around my fair town.

Chalga Video of the week! Gergana!

2007-11-25T16:18:00.001+01:00

This was actually the first Chalga vid I ever saw! Enjoy!

Chalga Video of the week! Azis

2007-11-13T10:27:00.000+01:00

From wikipedia:
Azis (born Vasil Troyanov Boyanov on 7 March 1978) is a Bulgarian Romani chalga (pop-folk) singer known for, among other things, his atypical gender expression and his flamboyant persona.
His discography includes: "Celuvai Me" (2003), "Na Golo" (2003), "Kraliat" (2004), "Together" with Desi Slava (2004), and "2005" (2005). Azis has recorded and performed many songs with some of the most popular Bulgarian pop-folk singers, like Gloriya, Malina, Sofi Marinova, Toni Storaro, the Serbian singer Marta Savi and also the rap performer Ustata.
Azis also performed alongside Mariana Popova in the Semi-Final of the Eurovision Song Contest 2006 with the song Let Me Cry. The song, however, did not qualify for the grand finale.
He began his political career in 2005 as a member of the Evroroma political party and ran in the general elections campaign in the summer of 2005, but didn't receive enough votes to become a member of Parliament.
In the 2006 TV programme Velikite Balgari (the Bulgarian version of the 2002 Greatest Britons from BBC), Azis was elected as the 21st greatest Bulgarian of all time (and was in fact the second ranking living person on the list, after football player Hristo Stoichkov, who was 12th).
On 01 October 2006, Azis married his husband Niki Kitaetsa. Their marriage is not legally recognized given the laws of Bulgaria.
Azis appeared on the VIP Brother 2 version of Big Brother Bulgaria alongside Niki Kitaetsa. Azis left the house voluntarily after nineteen days.
On 05 August 2007 Azis became a father. His newborn daughter is named Raya. Raya was conceived via artificial insemination; the baby's mother is Azis' life-long friend Gala.

Ok: so basically Azis is a true phenomena of Bulgarian culture. Here he is in an very homophobic country dressing as a woman, “marrying” a man, raising a child with his husband, and becoming one of the most popular folk-pop singers in Bulgaria. Enjoy!

спортен ден

2007-10-24T15:05:00.000+02:00

before we left our village, we hosted a sports/field day for the kids. We played football, kickball, and relay races.

2007-10-24T14:58:00.000+02:00

It's nothing, really. I just climed to the top of the highest mountain in the Balkans. Really, nothing special. ;)

2007-10-24T14:43:00.000+02:00

These pictures were taken in Viden, Northwest Bulgaria. The old building is an abandoned synagogue. The boy picks flowers for me. Across the river is Romania. Visited this site to learn more about the ways that Roma NGOs work with their communities. The video is of a Roma First Communion celebration in Viden.

2007-10-24T14:26:00.000+02:00

We participated in the national Rhila Park clean up. The Bulgarian Nationla News camera followed us around all day.

life

2007-10-24T14:09:00.000+02:00

Where I have lived for the last three months.

2007-10-24T09:08:00.000+02:00

Our Training group had a assignment to understand the hope and dreams of Bulgarian Youth. We taught a english class and opened the class with drawing. We asked the kids to draw thier lives when they grew up. Here are some of the results.

2007-10-01T19:32:00.000+02:00

Hello! It has been a while since I have written here, but that is only because my internet access--and time--has been so severely limited. Next time I write I will post:

Pictures from the first day of school
Video from a Roma First communion ppparty!
Pictures of kids we took to a 700 year old Fortress
Journal entries from the worst day so far in Peace Corps

And of course, Doing bulgarian folk dances to Michael Jackson's Thriller.

I love you.

Bulgarian hair cuts are hot!

2007-09-13T17:44:00.001+02:00

Before, and then after.

home

2007-09-13T17:23:00.000+02:00

Today I have the opportunity to visit my new home for the next two years. I am living in a wonderful town named Razgrad. It is very very old and instead of having many stray dogs it has many stray cats, which I like very much. The city is the cleanest that I have seen in Bulgaria.
I work for a Roma NGO called Integro. For now my job is not very clear, but there are some things that I know. I know that I will coordinate their Youth Development programs. The most significant of these will be their Youth Network. In this case, I am very fortunate to have my assignment. My job as coordinator of the Youth Network will allow me to travel all across Bulgaria helping Roma youth to organize.
My counterpart in the organization is an amazing individual. He is 27 and he is an assistant professor at the local university. He teaches methodology of the Romani language. He speaks 6 languages. He says he will teach me. After two years I should be fluent in Bulgarian and conversational in Romani, which is an international language. I hope also to learn some Turkish. The rest of my team is equally impressive.
In Razgrad there are two other Peace Corps volunteers, a married couple, who teach English. I met them today, and I am sure that they will be fine site mates for the next two years. There is also a American style supermarket that sells anything and everything I could ever want. Did I mention there is also an Italian restaurant across from my office?
I am so incredibly happy with my assignment.

2007-09-13T17:14:00.000+02:00

These are some pretty pictures from Krynisti. The three big nests are stork nests in our village. Bulgaria, apparently, is where babies come from.

Babi sings better than you

2007-09-13T17:02:00.000+02:00

The other day at about 5pm I was sitting in my classroom working on some English teaching assignments when an old lady busted into the room with a box of chocolates. After she force-fed me three she dragged me into a room for a short concert with her and her friends. After the concert, we all danced the hurro and had a grand time!

September 8th 2007

2007-09-13T16:58:00.000+02:00

Where I’m calling from.

Sometimes I feel so completely suffocated here. I can feel so diminished by the care that is offered by those around me. Life is laughing and I will be celebrating my 23rd birthday in two weeks.

I received a letter from my family this week and it really was wonderful. They all wrote something to me. I have kept it on me ever since I received it, and I immediately wrote them all back. If anyone wants my address, just drop me an email. For security reasons, I can’t really post it here. And I still have yet to speak with anyone back home on the telephone………

This week marks one month that I have lived in my training village. My Bulgarian is to the point where in present simple tense I can ask simple questions, answer with simple answers, and express basic preferences and feelings. When an old grandma stops me on the street to tell me about her tomatoes, the weather, and her granddaughter’s school work in Tampa Bay Florida I can generally understand. The real test comes next week.

On Monday, September 10th, I leave here for a week. I will go by bus to the HUB training site and find a big map of Bulgaria painted on the floor. It is there that I will finally learn where I will be placed for the next two years. During Monday and Tuesday I will meet my counter-part, learn about my future work place, and finally depart for a three-day visit. I am running with the assumption that most of the people I will encounter will know Bulgarian, Roma, or Turkish. Lets see how my language stacks up against that!

This week my host mom called a meeting with my language trainer. I was under the assumption that I had committed some huge offence. Maybe I did, and I still don’t understand, but as far as I can tell the most significant issue was that my hair is routinely wet in the morning after my shower. Mom is worried about me. And I feel like an ass for being frustrated, but there are some things that I feel like I know. I know that I can close my window at night, I know when I like to shower and I know how to live like an autonomous human being. But in this culture, mom is the purveyor of all ideas and materials domestic. She has made it clear that in our interactions I am her American son, she says the same things to me that she says to her son Georgie.

This is not to say that I am all glum, rather I try to walk around with smiles and I make a point to thank my parents for everything they do for me. But I try to assert my independence in small ways. Like last night I decided to make a dish for dinner. I made lentil soup, except it bubbled way over and made a big mess. And they would not let me even try to clean it up. So there I am, featuring my incompetence front and center.

And it continues: mama insists on scooping my ice cream because she says its too hard for me. Looking over my shoulder when I boil my coffee.

I can recognize in my actions and their consequences a desire to control conditions. The lesson, I think, is to let life happen and let in the love that others are willing to give. Who would have thought that it could be this hard?

PS. My mom just walked into the room with a little Bulgarian pastry and some knitted slippers she made for me. J
PSS. This week I started and finished The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac (thanks Christopher!) My favorite part, probably because I am so far away, was when the protagonist was crossing the Puget Sound by ferry and found Seattle for the first time. “In the deepened dusk fog ahead the big read neons saying: Port of Seattle. And suddenly everything Japhy had told me about Seattle began to seep into me like cold rain, I could feel it and see it now, and not just think it. It was exactly like he’d said: wet immense, timbered, mountainous, cold, exhilarating, challenging.”

PSSS. I started Beloved by Toni Morrison last night. Amazing!

September the sixth

2007-09-06T14:07:00.000+02:00

Some amazing things:

Where babys come from.

Grandmas sing better than you.

Empty Classrooms.

Bulgarian haircuts are hot!

All this an more on monday when i get wireless internet.

peace from the east!

gripe means flu in Bulgarian

2007-08-29T14:08:00.000+02:00

Gee wiz! I have had a difficult time the last few days. I just got over the WORST 24hour flu of my life. Everyone in my family caught it, and it even hospitalized my host mother for 2 days. Anyway! I am about a month into my Peace Corps training and I am ready to provide an assessment. From what I can tell so far, I am a big fan of the Peace Corps. I am surprised and happy that the United States Government has created and funded such a progressive organization. Not only is the education offered to me thus far suburb, the approach to sustainable development is spot on. My education- the language classes in particular- have taught me more in the first month than I learned in an entire intensive course back in university.

I am excited about the next two years, and I can already feel that it is the type of education that is going to point me in a decisive direction. I also miss home something bad. I started going through all my pictures of my laptop last night and I started feeling so sad! I did not expect to gain such a clear understanding so soon that my identity is firmly rooted in home.

2007-08-23T22:50:00.000+02:00

August 21, 2007

2007-08-23T22:49:00.000+02:00

August 21, 2007

Today was a special day. Our class took a field trip to Kustindel, the largest city in the area with over 50,000 people. That’s a shocker when I live in a village only 16 square kilometers. Kustindel is known from many things, but the two most important are its natural hot springs and ancient Roman ruins. The hot springs feed into numerous public baths throughout the city and the Roman ruins are perfect for picnics. Aside from a quick climb on a 2,000-year-old wall, none of that was on my agenda. Instead, today was the day that I got to see two examples of the types of work sites I get to pick from for my permanent which I will move to in ten weeks and live in for two to three years

The first stop was an orphanage (dom) for children aged 3-7 years. (note: In Bulgaria there is not a foster care system. Here, when children are removed from the families they are sent to the ‘dom.’ Also, many children in this system have been given up by their parents because the family can not afford to properly care for their child. It is for these reasons that what Americans think of as a orphanage cannot adequately describe this institution. We call it a dom.) There were ten of us trainees visiting today. As we walked down the driveway to the gates of the dom the 29 children saw us and ran to the gate screaming. When we walked through the gates they were so excited that they started jumping all over us. We have a good 20 minutes of play with the kids before we went inside for a tour. The kids were so precious. Many were very engaging, wanting us to dance with them or push them in little cars or bikes. One little boy walked up to me when I was kneeling down on the ground. In Bulgarian I said hi and asked his name. He did not respond, so I pointed to my self saying “Az sum Shaun, a via?” (my name is Shaun, what’s yours?). He still said nothing, rather he looked up at me and put his arms around my neck and buried his head in my shoulder. Another child attempted to take my glasses, and when he failed at that he tried to take my wristwatch off of me. I can most certainly see myself working at this type of place.

Next we stopped at a local NGO (non governmental organization) that focused on the problem of human trafficking in Bulgaria. Peace Corps Volunteers (PVCs) seem to fill many different roles working in NGO’s across Bulgaria. Many use experiences from the States in direct care to offer different perspectives on programs, help with English grant writing, or simply help with organization and management. I am interested in this type of work for several reasons. First, In addition to my direct care experience, I have a background in fundraising, office management, and community and volunteer organizing from working on campaigns. Second, I would absolutely love the experience of learning to work within the frameworks of the European Union in such a new member state. And finally, I think that this type of position and experience could help me professionally once I leave the Peace Corps. I know that this type of placement will also be challenging for me in particular. First, I worry about my own competence. Do I have the experience necessary to bring something productive to the table? Second I worry about the idleness of this type of office job. Will the slow pace of doing business in Bulgaria bum me out?

August 16, 2007

2007-08-23T22:46:00.000+02:00

August 16, 2007

So I have had a few more days to settle in here. My language skills are improving dramatically. It feels amazing to finally be able to communicate a full thought.
Each day is so full, and my ability to laugh at myself during each mistake, misunderstanding, and cultural exchange is improving.

For breakfast today I climbed a ladder in my backyard and cut a bunch of green grapes growing from the vines covering the back yard.

August 11, 2007

2007-08-23T22:42:00.000+02:00

August 11, 2007

This is a picture of the view out my bedroom window, and then of my Peace Corps friends.

Today is my first day in Krynisti, where I live with my host parents Vasil and Yodanka. Maika (mother) Yodanka is a joyful older woman who loves to cook. Bashta (father) Vasil is super nice as well. He drove me home from the peace corps office in Dupnista. He likes to drive upwards of 150 km/hour and it scares the shit out of me.

I woke up this morning around six. I live in a small village; about 2000 people ‘live’ here. I don’t think 2000 actually are here, but rather many are working in Italy. Anyway, I was told that Kyrnisti is a quiet place. Not so! You know those little toys that are round, you pull the handle and they say “the cow goes mooo…..the pig goes oink….. and so on? Yeah, that is what my room sounded like this morning. Of the many sounds that I could not identify, I heard roosters, cows, donkeys, dogs, horses. Oh, and sheep were being hearded down the street at about 7 am. But even the Mercedes (super machina!) pulling out of the next door garage has to wait.

When I woke I spent a couple of hours stretching. Leaving my room was a challenge as mini panic attacks abound here in Bulgaria. Taking each day at a time is the only way to get by. Sometimes I want time to stand still, I want to stop thinking, stop having to smile and repeat “da?!” after every sentence slammed in my direction by a Bulgarian. Then I breathe and I am amazed that I am here. I am proud that I have placed myself in the center of discovery, even when it feels like the center of disaster.

Vasil and I went to the bazaara in Dupnista today to buy fruits and chickens (kokoshtki). The bazaara was the biggest farmer’s market I have ever seen. I laugh when I remember how I made an effort to see my little Seattle farmers market one last time; like I will miss it. The kokoshtki bazaara was a trip. All these cages filled with birds of all colours. I got to pick one (edinie) and Vasil picked 4 (chetri) others. They were all stuffed into a box the size of my backpack.

When we got home Vasil, Yodanca and I went to their gardina to pick vegetables. To picture the Gardina, imagine the p- patches in Seattle; a space that the community has created for everyone to have a place to grow their own food. Now imagine that everybody in the town has a gardina the size of a p-patch with a chain link fence surrounding each. The gardinas are old, so they have well developed fruit trees as well as tomato (domati) plants as tall as me. We picked peppers, onions, black berries, tomatoes, cucumbers, parsley, and dill.

When we got home (11 am) my American friends (there are three other trainees in the village) arrived at the house with a current volunteer, Becky, who has been in Bulgaria for five months. Maika and Bashta were so excited that we were rushed down to the Basement for my first gosti. Gostis are parties that can, and do, happen all the time. It must be the national past time of Bulgaria. Maika wanted us to drink, and considering that it was still in the am, we all were skeptical. We got past having to drink Raika ( I will explain this later) and settled with a gin and tonic. At least when we drink store bought alcohol we can know the alcohol content. We had a blast, and now with Becky I could finally convey a full thought to my parents. Becky took us for a walk and about two hours later we returned for the second gosti of the day. This time it was lunch. They had prepared so much food. We had a salada (tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, peppers, sunflower oil and salt) two different kinds of roasted pepper dishes, a Bean soup called bop, melons, chocolad, and raika. Raika is a home made hard alcohol that is the strongest stuff you can drink and not die from immediately. I was feeling is off the first sip. It basically is moonshine made from grapes, fermented for seven years. Every house has their own distinctive rakkia that they are very proud of. After lunch, we had dessert. Dessert consisted of home made sweet red wine that had a bit of a bubble to it. I had one glass. After lunch, I walked my friend’s home. When I got home I took a two-hour nap, woke with a headache, and found that Gerorgi, my host brother, has returned from Italy (where he works) for two weeks. He took me for kafe (coffee) with his friends, which was awkward, more “da!?’s” .And head nods! In Bulgaria one nods his head yes as if he was nodding no and vice versa. Yodanca came and got me for dinner an hour later. Dinner was eggs, fried cheese, salada, and bread. Did I mention that I have forgotten what it means to be even slightly hungry? Raikia shaun? No maika. Shaun! Raika! Ne ne ne maika. Dovree shaun. Dovree. Tomorrow morning I am going to a Bulgarian wedding to dance the huro. Can anyone guess how many drinks I will be forced to consume before noon? After, we are going to a village in the mountains. I am not sure exactly what kind of village. All I was able to understand was that only old people live there and they have no running water or electricity.

Lecka nosht!

August 7, 2007

2007-08-23T22:26:00.000+02:00

“My life is created as I narrate, and my memory grows stronger with writing; what I do not put in words on a page will be erased by time.”
-Isabel Allende

August 7, 2007

Today is the first full day of pre service training. My body is not sure what day it is, when I should eat food, when I should sleep. From what I understand, Seattle is 10 hours behind me. For example, now is 10:43 PM in these mountains in southwest Bulgaria and in Seattle is 12:43 pm. My emotions are volatile from the stress, the jet lag, and the newness.

We started learning Bulgarian today. The first step is learning the Cyrillic alphabet. I find it very frustrating right now to start leaning the language. The pressure is real, in two days we are meeting our host family; right now I am still trying to sound out vowels and constants.

I am noticing that my emotions drift between excitement, fear and doubt.

The best part of today was that I ordered tea completely in Bulgarian. It was a small step, but my biggest accomplishment thus far.

Zravete!

2007-08-13T16:33:00.000+02:00

Hello there! My internet is very limited right now. I am journaling on my laptop, but every now and then i can connect it to a internet source for updating. So much more to come.

getting stuck

2007-08-03T15:02:00.001+02:00

My flight from Seattle to San Francisco left at 7:40 am without me. I arrived at the airport about an hour before, and I just did not have enough time to get through the lines. I later made friend with a fellow stand bye, a young mother with an absolutely beautiful baby, who told me that a few weeks prior security had found wires hidden inside a block of cheese. Apparently the terrorists are testing our systems. Sea Tac is on high alert.

My luggage went to San Francisco, and then at 11am Pacific Time it went to Philadelphia. Philly is where I am trying to get. I got through security at 9am, and at that point the only way to get to Philly was through Denver. I stood standby for two flights to Denver, one at 9:30 and the other at 11:30. Both flights were so booked that by the time the 11:30 took off I was number 22 in the stand by line.

Some how United Airlines has neither a customer service desk nor a phone number to call to figure out what to do when the situation gets messy. This moment—at about 12:30—was the one moment that I almost lost control of myself. I have never flown stand by before, and the fact that I was making a connection confused me even more. I was in line to stand by for a 2pm flight to Denver but would I still be able get to Philadelphia? The Lady at the gate said maybe I should go to Chicago, and then she walked away. I had no idea what to do with this information, so I just walked in circles until I found nice man who checked and told me that there was no way I could get to Philly via Chicago or Denver and that he did not know what to do. Then HE walked away.

My flights are being arranged by Sato travel, a travel agency that deals with all military and government flights. I called them and they set me up with a red eye flight from Seattle to Philadelphia leaving at 11:30 pm and arriving in Philadelphia at 7:15 am eastern standard time.

Against all odds I actually have had a great day. I took a bus to downtown and bought lunch and then watched the new Simpson’s movie. I walked around downtown a bit and found my way to the new Seattle Art Museum. Today is the first Thursday of the month and accordingly admission to the museum was free. I finally returned to the airport around 6 pm. I bought a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. Over the intercom I heard an announcement about a flight to San Jose and suddenly I remembered that my friend Chris McCarter was flying to San Jose this very night. I picked up my stuff and rushed to towards the terminal I thought he would be in. After a minute of rushing I walked directly in front of him, and he jumped on me and gave me a big hug. His flight boarded at 8:15. We made our way to a restaurant and ate fries and drank a beer. I walked him to his gate and we had a few minutes to talk. Since we already said our goodbyes this encounter was easy, painless and reaffirmed that me are forever friends.

I am now sitting at my gate, 30 minutes from boarding.

I just finished Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison. I highly recommend it.

can you feel it? (too long)

2007-07-24T21:26:00.000+02:00

I have one week left in Seattle.