Home – Finally - - Day Four

November 4, 201130 Months – Two and a half years! It is a long time to be away from your house - - your home. What will it be like? Will the house be OK? Will the car start – after you get a new battery? Will there be mold, smells, water damage, etc.? Will it be the same as you left it? Will you remember it? All of those questions, and many others were running through our minds Wednesday morning as we walked with our backpacks (which had all of our belongings with us for the past seven weeks of travel) to the front door. We cautiously walked in. We were amazed. Everything was OK - - no everything was GREAT! The house (our home) was in good shape. Lynn started taking the sheets off the furniture, and finding the sheets, quilts, and the electric blanket for our “king-size” bed. I worked on getting the car tires pumped (we had a friend drop off a compressor), and purchasing a new battery. I put the battery in the car – looked to the heavens for some help – and turned the key. It started immediately!! The engine just purred – no blue smoke – nothing. I slowly backed it our of the garage, and took it on a short test drive. By the time I got back, Lynn had our bed made. We hugged each other. Now all we needed to do was get water back in the house, and the heat working. Mid-morning, Roger (the 75-year old master plumber we use) showed up, and started working to get us water. Lynn and I worked on figuring out why the heat would not work, and got the gas fire place started to provide some heat. (I had forgotten we had the fireplace with the flame that started with a simple “twist of a knob”). We got the heat working about the time Roger finished getting the water running. We also called the cable company asking for them to turn on the internet for us. We had not seen TV for two years, and did not think we needed it now. But we wanted our “life line” - the internet. By late evening, we had internet, heat, water, and a car. Life was good – no it was GREAT. Day two dawned beautiful, and we had been so tired from our travel day, and the first day of being home, that we we both slept ten hours without any “jet lag” problems. Day two was when, I really started to have time to wonder around our home again – and not be working. That is when things started sinking in for me. I had a series of stunning surprises. The first was when I opened my closet. It was filled – very filled – with clothes, and shoes. There was a five foot rack with shirts, pants, and series of shelves with some shoes. I had forgotten I had those. The three foot wide wardrobe I shared with Lynn in Bulgaria had been fine. (I had more than enough in Plovdiv.) But it got worse. In the master bathroom - - (yes we have two full baths – with heat – on the second floor), I have one large shelf with just my underwear. On the shelf under that there are two more shelves with all my biking and exercise clothes. But then Lynn mentioned that I had a drawer full of tee-shirts in the dresser. I had a dresser! - I had forgotten. It has five drawers filled with sweat shirts, warm clothes, sweaters, - - and one drawer is filled with just Tee-shirts! Remembering again and stunning surprises have been the predominant theme of the first days home. Lynn and I will open something, and scream “look at this”. Our small condo has 2,200 square feet. Our apartment (home) in Plovdiv Bulgaria had less than 500 square feet. We loved it there, and made it comfortable. We simply accepted what we had, and dealt with each challenge as they came. Our “selective memory” never focused on what we left. Rather, we lived in the present, and made the most of what we had. But the past four days have been a little like Christmas morning - - over and over again. The picture at the beginning of this blog was sunset from our back yard at the end of day one. We had forgotten how beautiful they were, and that we can see them every night. We did remember our big comfortable bed, but it is better than we remembered. Tonight, we walked 30 minutes into the center of Hudson. We could have driven, but walking (just like in the Peace Corps) seemed more normal. We walked through the woods down to the river, and walked along the river to the center. We wanted a “Dairy Queen” ice cream. (For those of you who don't know, Lynn and I first met at a Dairy Queen where she was the assistant manager.) After getting a cone, we walked the one block down to the river. Hudson is a small town with about 12,000 people located on the St. Croix River, which is a 225 mile National Scenic River (like a national park). All along the river is just a long park. It was sunset, and the geese were flying in, and landing along the walkways. As we walked along, we were finding new things which were not there when we left. The town library had been moved down near the river next to the Phipps performing arts center. Phipps was starting “My Fair Lady” Friday night. We will get tickets for next weekend. My favorite bike shop was still there, and all of the small restaurants were packed – just like most Friday nights. The local craft store was having an open house and it was filled with people. We went in. I had some free wine. We checked out some unique Christmas ornament, and met two people Lynn knew from teaching. Hudson is a wonderful little town, and it was good to see it again. After we walked home, and were having dinner, I was struck by a strange thought (I expect I will continue having these for the next few weeks). Lynn and I had really left a lot when when we joined the Peace Corps. We had a wonderful home in a nice town. After 40 years of marriage, and a successful career, we had amassed a lot. The sacrifice we made would look like it was extremely significant to other people. And - - as I looked around after “re-finding” so many things during the past three days, it was significant. Yet – Lynn and I never thought of it in that way. In fact we never thought of our time in Bulgaria as a sacrifice. For us it was a wonderful adventure – a fantastic experience, and a period of amazing growth. And - - we helped others - - and may have made a “difference”. What more can you ask for? We did not need all the “creature comforts” that are here in our home. But - - after two and a half years – it is nice to be back!

Thanks for readingMikeoutside the front door with our "travel backpacks"

Time to Say Goodbye – All Good Things….. I started writing this blog about three weeks ago. Now it is 48 hours before we leave Plovdiv. Our lives are scattered right now - littered with conflicting emotions. I expect this blog will mirror these confusing feelings. We know it is “Time To Say Goodbye”, but we don’t seem to be completely ready. Or, maybe it is just that we were unprepared for all the events and pressure leading up to the final days in Plovdiv. Although we are conflicted, we also know “deep down” that “All Good Things must end”, and so must this stage in our lives. It is time to move on…. To the next adventure – what ever that may be. Actually, as I try to put the last 29 months into perspective, Lynn and I started the commencement to the next stage in our life in May 2009. We just did not know what was going to be happening to us then. Now – at the end of our service, I’m still not sure we understand what has happened to us. But I do know we have learned, changed, and grown. And what may be one of the most important parts of this growth is that the strong love we had for each other has continued to get stronger through our service. Just like during the early years of our marriage, we have both continued to be independent. We each have had separate challenges as well as common obstacles. It is the sharing we have done as each of us learned new things which have made our bond stronger. If you ever want to test the “metal of a marriage” – try throwing yourselves into a new country, language, culture, and job, - - and combine that with moving into a 440 sq. ft apartment. Oh – and start all this on the first “official” day of your retirement. And – yet – as I look back at it, there were never any real problems. Yes, there were lots of adventures, mini-adventures, challenges, and setbacks. But as you move forward further into this “Peace Corps Experience”, you seem to forget all the bad times, and celebrate (and remember) only the good times - - and there are lots of them! So - - what really is this Peace Corps experience? I have been trying to explain it (and write it down) for almost a year. I know I am closer to understanding it, but I also know I don’t have it completely figured out yet. One of the things I do know about the Peace Corps experience is that you must painfully drive yourself through a very small keyhole. When you pop out the other side, many volunteers begin to blossom and change. But it is hard to really understand the experience until after you have been home for some time. You need to put it into perspective, and that is hard (almost impossible) to do with out returning to your home in America. We have not done that, and we can only guess at some of the things that will happen based on what other returned volunteers have told us. Things like just standing in a grocery store isle paralyzed at the full isle of cereal choices. It is kind of like the scene from the movie Cast Away when Tom Hanks has returned and they have thrown him a party. He is left alone in the room, and walks around the table loaded with food, fish, ice, a lighter, and ends up sleeping on the floor because the bed is just so different. Although I doubt our re-integration into the US will be as dramatic, both Lynn and I are expecting some interesting experiences. In the meantime, we have wonderful memories of experiences here. Many of them are not what we expected. Things like:To love another country. To make so many friends. To learn more about the differences between Americans and others. To be so accepted by the younger volunteers. To stay up so late so often. To love walking to the bazar. To love walking four miles home through the beautiful boulevards and parks in Plovdiv. To love looking at the mountains 30 minutes from us. To get fresh vegetables from the stands every day. To become more in sync with the cycles of the season based on foods at the bazar. To make as much of an impact . To experience “minimalism”, - -and like it. To be so frustrated with Americans - - and to appreciate America so much more. On my final formal report to the Peace Corps, the last question asks me to describe a successful experience during my service. I don’t think I gave them what they wanted. Instead, I asked How do you measure success? What are the criteria for having a "successful" Peace Corps Service? Are you successful if you have worked on (or helped obtain) a major project? Or are you successful if you have made many host country friends - - and done nothing more? Are you successful if you have learned a new culture? Or are you successful if you have learned to "love" the new culture - maybe even more than the one you left in the US? Are you successful if you have grown personally - have gained different perspectives, and are able to live with much less than ever before? Are you successful if you have gone through the Peace Corps Experience - and come out of it changed - but you are not sure in what way?Are you successful if you have made an impact on your neighbors, friends and colleagues? And they have made an impact on you!Or - - are you successful if you have just done LOTS of work, projects, and completed many things. I don't have a good answer to any of these questions. But I believe I have been very blessed with my Peace Corps service because I believe I have done almost all of these things – and more. But it is important to remember they are just that - things and nothing more. The really significant parts of my Peace Corps Service can not be quantified - - and those are the most important parts of the experience. How I have changed, and how I have changed others. However, even having done all these things, I know there were more ways I could have done more, - - or learned more. But it is too late now. But it has been enough - - and it has been good - very good! And Now - - It Is Time To Say Goodbye! Thanks for reading.MikeI have found myself listening & watching these youtube clips at least once a day for the last 4 weeks.

Bulgaria Mountain High –

Lynn and I only have one month left here in Bulgaria, and we are trying to do all the things we have wanted to do, but have not the opportunity to accomplish. Attending a wedding was one of the things we wanted to do – and thanks to Kay and Tyler, we did that. This past weekend, we had another special experience. Bulgaria is a relatively small country (about the size of Tennessee), but it is filled with mountains. During our two years here, many of you have seen some of the pictures, and heard about our trips into the nearby Rhadopi moutains just south of Plovdiv. But…. We have wanted to visit the Rila mountains, and see the seven lakes. This past weekend, we visited the Rila’s, but not the seven lakes. But we think we ended up in a better place. We climbed the highest peak in Bulgaria (and the sixth highest in all of Europe) Mt. Musala (9,600ft - 1.8Miles high), and it was AWESOME!!! Bulgarians often tell us about the “spirits” of the mountains, and the energy hidden in the vast mountain tops. In fact every August, hundreds of people dress up in white garb, travel to the mountain peaks, join hands in a circle, and perform rituals hundreds of years old which celebrate that special spirit. We are not sure about these specific ceremonies, but Lynn and I definitely did feel the “spirit of the mountains” this weekend. We were in one of the most beautiful places we have ever seen, and it was hard not to feel the creator’s power as we viewed the beauty and grandeur constantly around us. It also makes you feel terribly small and insignificant – but full of the wonder of it all. It was a complex set of conflicting emotions while being constantly being overwhelmed. Our only regret was that we did not make this trip early in our service, so we could have repeated it often. Moussala Hut is in the lower left corner This adventure began when Vladimir (one of the people from our English class) called us. Everyone in the class knows we love the mountains, and wanted to visit the Rilas. He and a friend (Sergae) offered to organize a trip to Mt. Musala. We had to look at a map to figure out where it was. But we jumped on the idea. Vladimir has done this trip a couple of times, and knew how to check on everything. The bus left Plovdiv at 7:30AM Friday. Two hours later we were dropped off in the Borovets (elevation 4,265 Ft.). Borovets is the oldest ski resort in Bulgaria. It has a gondola that goes up 3,400 Ft. on the side of Musalla. The gondola ride was amazing in itself. But the 7,600 foot world it dropped us off at was almost like the moon – but with a clear blue sky above. We strapped our packs on, and headed off on the almost flat carriage road for the two-plus mile, one hour walk to Musala hut (7,800 Ft.) where we would spend the night. The hut is nestled in the bowl of Mt. Musala next to two sparkling glacier lakes. Bare rocky summits surround you overpowering your visual senses while you often hear the sound of spring waters pouring over the rocks crashing towards the clear blue lakes dotting the rock-filled canyons. Although it was only a “short” 1,800 foot climb from the hut to the top, it took us three hours to trudge the rock fields, and walk up the shear climbs to the top. We had never been that high, and we both found ourselves getting slightly dizzy as our bodies desperately tried to get quickly acclimated to the high altitude. Vladimir was a wonderful help, putting himself between Lynn and the ever-present cliffs, and always checking on me and Sergae to be sure we were all doing OK. The views all along the way were spectacular, and we often stopped for “photo opps” using them as rest breaks. But toward the top, we came over the crest of the ridge, and had our breath taken away by the views westward where we could see all the other Rila Mountain peaks. Within 15 minutes of reaching the ridge, we were at the top. The pictures actually do a good job of showing the magnitude of views. We took some special “Lynch Lunch Pictures”, and I “Lorded Over” some of the scenery. We spent a long time on the top, and an even longer time slowly coming back down. Dinner & Breakfast - No restaurant can beat this view! The weather during this trip was perfect. A front had passed through on Thursday, and Friday and Saturday were crisp, cloudless, with warm sunshine. We know the perfect weather had a special impact on our trip. We got back to the hut about 7PM after stopping and just sitting in the sun near the lakes several times during our descent. Musala hut is very rustic, but functional. The old tables outside have a beautiful view, and we shared some of our food with two other ladies (one from New Jersey, and the other from Israel). We monitored the sun set by watching the shadows slowly move up the side of the mountains in front of us. After sunset, we checked our flashlights, visited the “very primitive” outhouse, and headed back to our beds in the hut. But the mountains had one other special surprise for us before we got into the hut. The full moon was rising over the mountains where we had just watched the shadows climb during dinner. We all stopped, and silently watched the white edge of the moon slowly rise over the ridge like the moon coming out of a full eclipse. We tried to get a picture, but we were in too much awe, and the pictures did not come out. We finally all crashed in our beds by 9:30, and slept soundly for about 10 hours. Vladimir on top of the mountain meadows Saturday dawned just a beautiful as Friday. Breakfast was at the same table outside where we had dinner. We had to catch a bus from Borovets at 4PM, but there was plenty of time to spend in the mountains before departing. Lynn and Sergae hiked up to the second lake, sat in the sun, and soaked up the mountain energy. Vladimir and I took a very challenging (about 1,200 Ft. straight up) hike up the ridge opposite Mt. Musala. I thought we were crazy a couple of times during the hike, but the massive mountain meadows on the top coupled with more fantastic views made it worthwhile. Vladimir and I found a quicker trail down, and by 1PM we were packed up ready for the hour “flat” walk back to the gondola. It was hard to leave. The beauty continued to surround us on the walk out. But – all good things must end. We jumped into the gondola, and were whisked down the mountain. Lynn and I are popping advils, but are doing fine. And the memories are worth any minor aches and pains. Enjoy the pictures. We took 300. We hope these few will give you a small idea of the fantastic 30 hours we had. Thanks for reading….Mike Just your average lunch!!!

THE WEDDING – най-добрият (THE BEST)

Life is often marked with seminal moments, tough decisions, or special events that change your life; the birth of a child, graduation from school, a new job, moving far away, illness, or … getting married.

One of those special events happened to Lynn and I this past weekend. It was a wedding. It was the marriage of Kay and Tyler, two volunteers from our group, who chose to marry here in Bulgaria because this is where it all began. Their wedding symbolized so much of what our two years here have been about. It was the cherry on the cake, the capstone event of a wonderful two years. It was simply “The Best!”

Kay's house perched on the slopeKay's Village is nestled on the center of the slope of the mountainIt took place in a small mountain village in the Southwest corner of Bulgaria about a 7 hour bus ride from Plovdiv. Although it was only 7 hours away physically, like so many things here in Bulgaria, it was like stepping back 50 years in time. The wedding blended Bulgarian and American traditions. It was a perfect example of why we are here: to learn about other cultures and to share our American culture with other nations. This event touched Lynn and I in several ways, and it is impossible for us to simply write one blog entry about what this all means. So.... over the next few days there will be several blogs from both of us talking about our perspectives of the wedding. We have a couple hundred pictures, and will share some of them in each of the blogs.

Their Wedding "evite" picture!Kay is from the Minneapolis area, and Tyler lives in Jacksonville, Fla. They met the first day as B25s, and went through PST (pre-service training) together. After pre-service training, Kay was placed in the Southwest Bulgarian Mountains, and Tyler in the North central plains – probably about 7 hours travel from each other. They were both teachers, and somehow they kept the relationship going (and growing) - - not an easy thing to do here in Bulgaria.

Kay's village is tucked into the side of a mountain. There are about 800 people living there. There is one road running through the village, with a few side “paths” off the main road. Most of the houses are built into the side of the mountain on the “up” side of the road, or are built on pillars on the “downside” of the road. The main road ends about 5 Km beyond Kay's village at another small village. There is one bus out of town early in the morning, and one returning at 5PM. There are plenty of horses, goats, and horse drawn carts. The village is on the south side of the mountain, and the views into the mountains of Greece are spectacular. It is the kind of place we all imagine ourselves when we start our Peace Corps application.

The culture of the village is “Pomak”. Pomaks are native Bulgarians who were forced to convert to Islam during the Ottoman rule, and now continue to practice Muslim traditions. In many of the wedding pictures you will see the women in the traditional “working or dress jacket”, and colorful scarf. Kay is another one of those amazing volunteers who has been able to integrate into the village life, and speaks flawless Bulgarian. A strong bond formed between the village people and Kay. Kay and Tyler were sure they wanted to marry, but were not sure about marrying here in Bulgaria. About 6 weeks ago they decided to go for it, and once that was decided, the village took over; just like the old quote about it “takes a village to raise a child”. Well, at Kay's, the whole village enjoys a celebration, and they helped make it happen. .As you look at the pictures, you will see the wedding parade blocks the one road through the town (thankfully there are few cars going through), and then takes over the town square (well – it more of a triangle). Like everything else in Bulgaria, weddings take time - - lots of it. Following is the time line of events for the wedding.

4PM – The 20+ volunteers who were staying at a hotel at the bottom of the mountain get picked up by a Van. (I wish I had a picture of this Van, and the 20 volunteers crammed into it. It was kind of like that old college world-book challenges about how many kids can fit into a VW bug.) It is about a 30 minute drive up the twisting, and curvy mountain road, and we arrive at 4:30.

4:30 - When we get there, we all go to the small school where Kay has worked. Tyler is there, and his grooms men help him prepare for the day. The rest of us roam around checking out the small school, and the new athletic area just completed as one of Kay’s projects..

5:00PM – A small (but very loud) three piece band (clarinet, drum, and accordion) lead about a dozen of Kay’s students to the school. They are there to formally pick up Tyler, and then lead him down to Kay’s home. If the groom lives in the same town as the bride, the groom’s friends and family would meet him at his home and begin the procession. But before we leave the school, there is the some horo dancing to be done on the new soccer court. A few villagers watch from the street above.

5:20 We all move up the steps from the school, and follow the band slowly down the street to Kay’s. Along the way, we begin to pick up more Baba’s, young students from the school, and locals. When we get to the house, the way is blocked by a rope strung across the street. There are several traditions Tyler must go though in order to see Kay and be allowed to “take her away”. Much of it had to do with offering MONEY. Kay’s school director acted in her behalf and made sure Tyler was offering enough!!!! I believe he was given some money along the way from villagers to insure he had enough. While Tyler was negotiating a bride price, Kay was inside surrounded by women, peering through the window, looking through a ring searching for her future husband. Once Tyler was allowed inside there were a number of other rituals. Tyler had to find Kay’s wedding shoes and stuff them with money. We were not a part of proceedings inside and are not sure what else happened, but it took awhile!. At last they were escorted out by the school director. (think Dad).

6:00 Kay is out of the house, and the next batch of horo dancing begins, lead by Kay. The street is very narrow here, and the temperature is in the high 90’s, so most people just watch. The crowd somehow multiplied at this point.

6:15 – Just before the band is ready to start leading Kay and Tyler back toward the center, the Babas on the balcony of the house opposite Kay’s start throwing candy into the crowd. Just like in the US, this creates lots of excitement as all of the children (and many volunteers) grab for the candy. One of the Babas showed Kay how to hold her wedding gown out to catch the most candy.

When the candy has all been tossed out, the musicians lead the procession back through town. It was amazing. There were Babas on every balcony, rooftop, and side street watching, and then joining in on the walk. I really can’t explain what it was like. The band, Kay and Tyler waving to people as they walked by, mobs of people and friends coming up to them as they walk along all made this an experience like I have never seen before.

The Town Center - Dancing in the streets6:40 What would normally take 10 minutes, took about 25, but alas we finally arrived at the village center. A big sound system was set up there, and our little band now had a male and female singer, plus an electronic keyboard. But most importantly, we probably had almost 400 people with us, and they were all ready to DANCE! And that is what we did! For the next two and a half hours! The only things that slowed us down were the horse drawn hay wagons, cars, and one big truck that had to break through the horo dance line in order to get through the square. It was here that Kay threw the bouquet to the single women. Since there were only American women and some small children prepared to catch it, the assumption is that this is not something done in Bulgaria or at least not this village.

9:00 The 107 official guests entered a small hall in the center where there was an official ceremony, food - - and of course - - more horo dancing. We are still not sure if Kay and Tyler are “officially married” in Bulgaria, but since we heard the question of each with a response of “DA” from each, and a signing and witnessing of a document……it is quite possible it is a legal marriage. Rarely is there a church wedding here, and the signing of the document is actually the ceremony. During the reception, the volunteers took over occasionally, with songs prepared especially for Kay and Tyler, sung by our very talented B25s. We sang our theme song “Are we Human or Are We Dancers”, John Denver’s “Take Me Home”, and generally had one last bonding session.

12:45AM The van showed up, and we begin the process of trying to find all the volunteers, to be stuffed back into the van for the ride back to the hotel. Kay and Tyler, and a couple other volunteers were in the car in front of us.

1:30 – Back to the hotel. Sunday morning everyone was up early, coming and going by poolside as we all prepared to go our individual ways again. We then start another stage in the Peace Corps experience - - but more about that in a future blog.

That was the flow of events, but the flow of emotions is much harder to chronicle. Lynn and I have never experienced an event like this. And we were part of it with some very special friends. The hundred degree heat, the hours of dancing, the long hot bus drives getting there, the crammed van rides up the mountain, filled with laughter and song all made this weekend very special - - and very hard to adequately explain or describe. We hope some of the pictures will help us share it with you. And that the future blogs will give you some more insights into why we felt this was so special.

Thanks for readingMike and Lynn

Mike and I thought we would introduce you to some people who are a regular part of our lives. They may be someone we see almost every day, once a week, or once a month, but they have all become special people in our lives. Let’s start with Златка Георгриева - Zlatka Georgrieva .

Zlatka is a 36 year old native of Plovdiv. We see here 3-4 times a week depending on how often we walk to the market. She has a fruit and vegetable stand in the bazaar. Neither her prices nor the quality of her produce are the best. I think what first attracted us to Zlatka was her smile. She always has one for us, and makes every effort to understand us and be understood by us.

We interviewed her awhile ago to find out more about her. She has been selling produce since she was 16 years old. She lives in the same neighborhood as the bazaar, but has only been in this location for the last two years or so. She spent seven years in Hamburg Germany, also selling fruits and vegetables. She returned to Bulgaria when she was pregnant with her daughter.

Everyone sets their stand up in their own way. Zlatka has a narrow middle aisle just big enough to step into

to see what is further back on the stand.

Back side of her stand.When asked if she liked her work she quickly responded “No”. Though not excited about her job, when asked what she would like to be doing, she couldn’t think of anything “I don’t know” she said with a look of resignation. Yet when asked if she would still be here in twenty years there was an equally emphatic NO!. She would like to return to Germany. Escaping Bulgaria is a common theme among workers. They don't leave because they love to travel or because living and working in another country is a status symbol. They go to other European countries to work because there is work that pays so much more. Often only one member of a family will go from several months to several years, leaving the rest of the family behind. I hope Zlatka and her family are able to return to Germany for awhile.

It is understandable that she does not like her work when you find out she works 50 weeks a year, seven days a week, and about 12 hours a day. That changes a bit with the seasons. Her mother( who also sold fruits and vegetables most of her adult life) helps out by filling in for her one Sunday a month and for two weeks in the summer when Zlatka goes on vacation to the Black Sea. When I asked her about being outside in the extreme cold, she said the plastic she wraps the stand in keeps her warm enough. When asked what was the worst thing about the job she said it was listening to the people all day. (Bulgarians tend to complain a lot)

Everyday she goes to a warehouse to pick up her fruits and vegetables, loads them in the car, unloads them at the stand, spends the day standing in whatever weather elements are present , loads the car with unsold foods, then goes home to care for her 6 year old daughter, make dinner, clean the house etc.

I don’t know why Zlatka always has a smile for us. Maybe because we have one for her and we never complain about life’s woes!!!!!!

Lynn

отиде до вилата Visiting the Villa (aka – going to the Cabin)The "weed-filled" left half of this building is the villa!

This past weekend, Krum, and his family (including an Aunt) took all six of us in his small car on a short 35Km drive to his father-in-laws villa. Krum has not been there for two years, but has promised to take Lynn and I there for some time. It was a great day, and gave us another perspective of Bulgarian life.

The "foundation car" died before this climb.Plovdiv's elevation is 164 meters (approximately 538 feet) above sea level. The very small village of Бойково (Boikovo) took about 30 minutes to reach, but it is 1,106 Meters (3,628) feet above sea level and is located the mountains just south of Plovdiv. From my office window, I look out over the roof tops of other buildings and into the Rhodope mountains. The road to Boikovo is long, curvy, and basically ends at the village center. The “road/trail” from the center for the final 300 yards to the villa is a challenge for any vehicle other than a four-wheel drive. Krum's car made it, but two years ago, the foundation car did just died half way up that last stretch from the village center.

There is a very strong “cabin culture” in the US upper mid-west. We know many people who spend most of the summer on a lake in all manner of small (or large) houses. But what we found out this weekend, is that the Bulgarians have been doing similar things for a couple of centuries. The difference is that while we go to the lake to cool off, they head high into the mountains to catch the cool breezes of summer. Although Krum's in-laws home was “spartan” at best, there were several homes in the village which were very nice. A few of them had to be owned by people from Western Europe because some of them had lawns with lots of grass. Most often Bulgarians are more practical and use every inch of land to plant gardens.

The water for the villa comes from a spring further into the mountains. However, we could not get it turned on. So... we went for a short 10 minute walk up to the spring to fill the five liter plastic jugs. On the way, we met some of the neighbors cooking a lamb on an outdoor spit. On the way back, we were stopped by them, and invited to have some rakia, beer, meat (not the lamb because it takes about 6 hours to cook, and they still had another hour to finish it). It was really nice, and fun just standing around talking and enjoying the beginning of their party. They have a family “compound” (just like the Kennedy compound on Cape Cod – well almost) with two buildings, a fabulous view, and constant breezes for the three brothers and all their families. One of the older women had just made some bread, and we all devoured it. Three hours later when Krum, Lynn and I returned from a hike around the village, there was only a pile of ashes where the fire had been. The spit, and roof were portable and had been put back in storage.

In addition to the Lamb roast party food, we also had our own small party with shopska salad, bread, fried chicken, and Lynn's homemade cookies. After spending a couple of hours grazing on good food, Krum, Lynn and I went out for a long walk around the village and onto the trails in the woods nearby. The pictures don't really capture the “quaintness”, and the unique aspects of many of the old (and new) homes.

When we got back to the villa, it was time to start packing and cleaning up to get ready to leave. However, we were not going very far on the first leg of the trip home. A couple of miles down from the village center there was a trail leading to a refurbished chapel. The trail continued onto a knoll with spectacular views to the north and onto the Plovdiv plain.

Following are some more pictures of the “Bulgarian Cabin (Villa) Life”. We had a great time, and hope you enjoy the pictures.

Thanks for readingMike

This is the town center- the one bazar was opposite this cafe

Getting Closer - - To Closure Friday – May 6, 2011. I’m writing this while traveling on the train going back home after being on the road for the past nine days. I’m riding through some of the most beautiful mountain canyons and gorges in Bulgaria. I have my ear-buds in, and my ipod is blasting. I’m tired - - and filled with emotions. Emotions I never planned, dreamed, or expected to have two years ago when we boarded the plane for Bulgaria. You see - in the middle of these nine days, Lynn and I attended our COS (Close of Service) conference. This happens when there are approximately 90 days before you leave your host country. (Lynn and I are extending for two more months to finish a couple of important projects – so we will not leave till September 15.) I have worked as a trainer at the COS conference for the two previous groups (B23 & B24) prior to this. Even though I had done this conference twice before, I knew it would be different with my own group. I thought I was ready for it - - but, alas, I was not! Our group is the B25s. This is the 25th Peace Corps Volunteer group to serve in Bulgaria. We arrived with 62, and now have 52. The average age is - - well young (about the age of Scott and Shawn). Lynn and I are the “senior couple”. Our COS meeting was a typical Peace Corps conference with lots of long, sometimes boring sessions. But this conference also has some very emotional (tear-filled) meetings and goodbyes, as well some fabulously funny and happy celebrations. The thing I never expected, planned, or considered when we left the US is the bond we would develop with all these young people. The B25’s are incredibly tight for such a large group. Prior to our arrival, most training groups were 25-30 volunteers. It can take 12-plus hours for some volunteers to get out of their mountain villages and go across Bulgaria on trains and buses. So, it is amazing that we could develop and maintain the connections, bonds, and relationships that we have. What is even more amazing is how much a part of the B25 volunteer group Lynn and I feel. We have never felt outside of this group of special young people. Yes – I know Lynn and I are open, and want to have these relationships. But – come on – achieving this is a dream that would rarely come true. Let’s face facts – we are 35-plus years older than most of these volunteers. They could easily call me “Dad”! (Thankfully, that has never happened, although sometimes I have been called “boss”.) Lynn and I genuinely admire, respect – and yes love – this motley group of eclectic people, and we also – somehow - fit right in. We do stay up and dance and talk with them till 1:30AM. We were very happy at this COS conference to find out that our room would be in the center of where all the informal parties would be. We don’t want to be far away from the “noise”. A few rooms had LARGE patios - perfect for parties. We wanted to reconnect with the volunteers who have spent the night on the air mattresses on our floor. We wanted to hear the stories about how they coped with the 20 screaming kids who were trying to jump out the classroom windows, or about the mayor who only wanted the volunteer for project writing and getting money, or how they are doing surviving in a small dying village, or how they are emotionally dealing with watching a small child slowly die at the orphanage. We could try to explain and describe some of these situations, but unless you have lived through them, it is impossible to fully understand them. Every volunteer’s experience is the same and uniquely different at the same time. The fact that each volunteer has to overcome their own adversity sometimes in a physically demanding environment is the basis of this special common bond. It is the foundation of this thing they call “the Peace Corps experience”. An important way to cope with all these trials is to provide support for each other, and to have “celebrations”. It is during those long nights spent talking, or during the parties with all the laughter, dancing and –yes – drinking, that the special bonds are further strengthened. The B25s are especially unique with our celebrations. We don’t split up into small cliques. We want to stay together - - and we do! One of the talent show leaders (with brace)

It started with our first conference two months into service. This conference was with our Bulgarian counterparts (partners). Our language was still not good, and it would have been normal for the volunteers and counterparts to go their separate ways during the evening. But that did not happen. Informal counterpart and volunteer leaders worked together to find something we could all do. They found a karaoke bar. It may seem strange, but singing the Bulgarian national anthem followed by American patriotic songs and mixing Bulgarian with American pop songs was fun, and helped start a bond. Three months later at the next conference (which was here in Plovdiv), I found a bowling alley, and we took it over for the evening. Almost all the volunteers were there, and we had a great time together. Our one year anniversary conference was a turning point. The group wanted to stay together, and they came up with an idea for a “talent show” and dance. I have to admit, at first, I thought this would be “hokey” at best. What I did not realize was how talented many of us are. The show went for about 90 minutes, and it was great. After that we stayed together talking and dancing. For COS, the group decided to get dressed up (as best we can here when you really don’t have any good clothes) for a second talent show, and dance. Staff wanted to participate, and they did two numbers. Their hip-hop song was priceless. I wondered if we could top our first talent show at COS, but we did it even better the second time. Our understanding of Bulgarian culture, habits, and life was shown in some very funny ways, and also in some very moving ways. It is hard to explain all this without being there, and I am probably going on way too much about it. But it seems to be more important to me (and others) than I ever really imagined. Two other small things happened the day after the talent show. For me both of them seemed like scenes out of a movie. It was time for all of us to head off to our Bulgarian homes and finish the final 85 days of service. The bus and train stations in this small mountain town don’t have many departure times. So… about 20 volunteers heading south through the mountains descended on the little train station to wait for the one afternoon train. While we were waiting one of the volunteers pulled out his guitar, and starts strumming and softly singing. Other volunteers are milling around listening and watching. When the “two-passenger car” train finally arrived, we took over one of the cars looking for seats in the small 8-person compartments. We were split up, but could visit in the other compartments during the two hour ride out of the mountains. When we reached the flatlands, we got to a rail junction. This is really just another small station with more tracks than usual. Most of the volunteers jump off our train and start climbing onto the train next to us. Lynn and I with one other volunteer stay on our train. We pull our window down and hang out of it saying goodbye. As the other volunteers got on their train to head west, they pulled down their windows and hung out also screaming goodbye. (Remember these are not modern trains like in the US. They are old, dirty red colored graffiti covered trains. The scene I am trying to describe is more like a 1940’s movie with everyone hanging out the windows saying their goodbyes.) Our train pulled away first, and we continued waving as long as we could still see the others. As I sat back in my seat, I was struck by the symbolism. The group was starting to separate. In a relatively short time, we would all be going our separate ways – for good! This was just the first of many goodbyes. I hope the bonds we have developed among our fellow volunteers and Bulgarian colleagues never leave us. I know it will be hard to make this happen. But I believe we will all try. In the meantime, there is one thing that I am sure of - - We are definitely getting closer - - much closer - - to closure!

Thanks for readingMike

It has been just one month since the Grand Opening of the computer room at school. Everyday I have classes here I am excited by what I see. It thrills me to see the smiles, some huge and others just little ones of triumph matched with bright, interested eyes as students learn to use a mouse for the first time or navigate their way through tasks. It is exhilarating to see EVERY student actively involved in the learning process. I love that I can easily modify what individual kids do based on their skill level. Some can be reading English stories while others are practicing the alphabet.

Currently all of the third and fourth grades are having one English lesson a week in the computer room. I also have taken my 1st graders a couple of times as well. Last Friday I introduced the computer lab, using the Bulgarian Language program to three of the five second grades. I hope to do the last two tomorrow. Equally as thrilling as watching the students’ reactions is seeing the excitement of the teachers as they watch their students. One fourth grade teacher who is very skilled with computers takes her class to the lab for Geography and History twice a week. A third grade teacher has her group there for a variety of subjects four times a week. And we have an extra curricular class for fourth graders as well. This level of usage is exceeding my expectations in just three short weeks (we had a 12 day vacation in the last month). The difficulty will come in building the confidence of the majority of the teachers so that they feel confident and comfortable doing these lessons on their own.

Other benefits I was expecting and am seeing are difficult to measure, but certainly present. Children matched in pairs are not always with their best friend. In fact boys are often with girls and children who do not associate with each other may be working together on the same computer. All but one pairing has worked well, expanding each child’s sphere and social skills. Classes in the computer lab are much much quieter and behavior is not a problem. The kids are made to take a “time out” away from the computers for not listening, or being late for class. They are being taught how to “read” and follow an outline of the daily lesson posted on the white board, making them more independent, with much less time spent waiting for help. Little things like individual charts are allowing them to work on their own as well and be successful more quickly. In general, schools here do not provide the tools for kids to be thinkers and independent learners. Everything is taught to large groups, with copying being the primary mode of information acquisition. Kids are constantly checking “Is this right? Or “like this?” in their other classes. I hope using computers gives them an opportunity to approach learning in a new way.

The Grand Opening was quite an event. I was frustrated that I had to wait two weeks once the computer lab was ready before I could start bringing kids into it. But our director wanted to have a grand opening with the press and staff members from Peace Corps and the local municipality present. Coordinating all that took time. The week leading up to the event was equally frustrating as class after class was cancelled as three teachers worked very hard on the celebration. Everything had to be perfect. A group of fourth graders were familiarized with some of the programs and demonstrated their skills on the day of opening and my first graders showed how something as simple as a slide show accompanying a song can enhance learning. There were speeches and gifts, a ribbon cutting and the traditional sharing of bread and honey. In the end it was a great day except for all the press interviews I had to do.Even the kids had to endure the press!

I am now feeling the squeeze of time. I have only about 20 more days in school. The kids have a few more than that but there are many four days weeks leading up to the end of school on May 31. I still have so much I want to do with the teachers in particular. The kids will benefit if the teachers use what is available to them after I leave. We will do more training in June, but there is nothing like having a teacher see first hand what computer learning can do for these kids. Twenty days and a few classes with each teacher is not much time to transfer skills.At one point in January, while I was waiting for project approval and funding, I seriously considered withdrawing the project proposal. I was concerned there just would not be enough time to make this successful. Though it would be better for all of us if we had more time to nurture this project, we don't, but I sooooo very glad I did not withdraw it, as I feel many have already reaped the benefits and will continue to do so. I will spend the summer, setting up systems to make it as easy as possible for the teachers to connect the computer programs to their lessons, and with the help of teachers like Petya, Lina and Tsveti who are already hooked, I'm confident that in time every child will have "the computer experience"!!!!!

I want to talk about Stephen. As you can see he is a (natural) red head with freckles. I can honestly say in almost two years I have not seen another red-headed freckled kid in Bulgaria never mind the mahala where most everyone has dark eyes, skin and hair.

Steven is a third grader and attends school occasionally. I can not begin to explain his individual circumstances but I can guess at many of the reasons for his frequent absences. He fits the stereotype of Roma kids, being quite dirty most of the time, worn dirty clothes, shoes that neither fit nor are held together well, a street kid, fighter type. When he is in school not a day goes by that you are not pulling him off someone else. At times it is “play fighting” which most of the boys engage in, but not always. He is the kind of kid that can draw moans from his teachers when they do see him in school, knowing the day will be tougher for everyone.

Yet there is something about Steven that pulls me in, just as there has been with dozens and dozens of boys over the years. Without knowing how, he tries to engage others, most often unsuccessfully.If you can get it, his attention during lessons is hard to keep. He rarely completes his work and if he feels he has had enough he leaves school for the day (as do other "tough" kids). On a few occasions I have worked one-one with Steven to try to get him through an English lesson by modifying the written work. Under these circumstances he responds positively, demonstrating some knowledge of what we are doing. The other day he came into the library at the end of school where I spend most of my free time. Petya and I were cleaning getting ready for our "Computer Lab Grand Opening". We jokingly asked him if he wanted to help clean, and he quickly responded "yes". He eagerly wiped down desks and chairs for about 30 minutes, rolling on the floor as he did. By time he declared he was "done" I was working on a computer. He came to see what I was doing. I decided to open up the new Math software program and found a shape puzzle to complete. It was obvious puzzles have not been a part of his childhood. But after doing three together he now had an understanding of what to do. His behavior was very acceptable, but it is easy to understand when you are getting all this individual attention. During the following days, Steven looked for more attention from me. One of his inappropriate ways was to ask "Do you watch porn shows?" Sigh!

In many ways Steven is not much different than many kids I have worked with back home. I have seen these behaviors many, many times. What is different about Steven though is there is little hope for positive change in his life. In the states, kids like Steven have educational plans with goals outlined and much support to help them achieve them bit by bit. Steven has no help beyond what his teacher can offer. She has several "Stevens" in her class and little to no training managing them. I have seen a few kids here successfully receive some limited help, but it requires parental agreement, and that appears to be hard to get. I don't know what the process is, but it certainly is not well developed and there are not specially trained people to direct that process. I know some teachers have tried to get help for kids unsuccessfully.

I will be surprised if Steven continues in school beyond 6th grade. He understands very little Bulgarian (a frequent and real complaint about our kids) and continues to fall further and further behind. I can not say for sure, but I suspect there is very little adult supervision or guidance in Steven's life. He is a prime candidate to succumb to negative influences as he makes his way through life with little to no education or life skills.

All I have been able to give Steven is a few moments of acceptance and attention, but not enough to make a difference in his life.

Lynn

A Very Good Day!!!

Last Monday was February 14th. Most folks around the world know that day as “Valentine’s Day”. And in Bulgaria the 14th is Valentine ’s Day. However, in Bulgaria, there is another celebration on February 14th. It is St. Trifon day – also known as Trifon Zarezan day. St. Trifon is the patron saint of wine producers, vine-growers and Tavern-keepers. That means there is lots of wine consumed here in Bulgaria on February 14. But this celebration is not just a “bacchanal” drinking party. It is also a day of work in the vineyards. Zarezan means to prune the vines. So that is the day in the spring when people start pruning their grape vines to prepare for the growing season. A couple of villages which my NGO supports are on the lower slopes of the Rhodope mountains, and they have some large vineyards. In typical Bulgarian planning, Maria got a call Monday morning asking us to get a TV cameraman, and come to the Roma neighborhood to film the celebration. Since there are many large vineyards around Plovdiv, St. Trifon day is celebrated in many nearby towns – with lots of old men walking the streets holding plastic cups filled with wine. Getting Television to our little Mahala was not going to happen. However, Maria and I could go to the celebration instead. The people we work with invited us, and we hurried off. We arrived shortly before the ceremony started. It was a grey day, with light scattered showers. But the rain did not put a damper on the party. Believe it or not, this was something I have wanted to do since we arrived in Bulgaria – go to a Roma party! Lynn has talked about walking through her very large Mahala seeing (and hearing) the parties in the streets with the large sound systems blasting Turkish and Bulgarian music throughout the neighborhood. When we arrived, the beer and wine filled-tables were in the streets, and the music was blaring with some folks dancing. But before the party could continue, we needed to “prune the vines”. One of the younger women rushed off to change into more traditional dress. The drummer and clarinet players started getting ready. The small pail with “ceremonial” red wine was full. The drummer started, and a very motley group headed off on the one stone street in the village. Although I did not have my camera with me, someone else was taking video clips of the event. I have inserted the videos into this blog. They are not very exciting - - in fact they are boring! But, if you have some time, pour a glass of wine and watch a little bit of life in a Roma village. This first clip will show the parade preparation, and our "walk" toward the fields. Me - far left checking my pruned vineFrom the “main” street, we headed down the dirt path into the poorer section of the Mahala. With the rain, most everything was slightly muddy, but it was not too bad. After that we passed through the “trash toss” area which is generally just a nearby field turned into a dump. On the other side of the trash was the fields filled with vineyards. The long video clip is the ceremony, speeches, and pruning of the vines. Maria and I were just enjoying the walk, and listening to the speeches, when I realized they were asking me to also speak. PANIC!!! I can do this, but I generally need more than 5 seconds to come up with some words in Bulgarian. But with Maria’s help we got through it. The small group seemed to like it most when I said we hoped to get много пари (lots of money) from the harvest. Then it was time for me to help with the pruning. And when the drums started back up, it was time to head back to the main street. We only had to get out of the way of one horse drawn wagon on the way back up the hill. When we got back to the party area, there were plenty of 10 liter plastic bottles filled with homemade red wine, and plastic cups to drink from. I have learned that you have to be careful with Bulgarian homemade wine. It seems to be more potent than my normal “box” wine. But it is good! We spent two or three more hours in the Mahala. Several of our participants wanted to talk to us about seeds, fertilizers, and other things they would need this spring. We wondered into their homes where a coal or wood stove was keeping a small room toasty warm and also cooking soups. As we talked, there was more wine, walnuts, and food to eat. And outside was the ever present street music. I also spent some time at the tables filled with men celebrating (i.e. drinking more wine and beer), and even managed to meet a local politician who will be running for town mayor this October. A little before 4PM it was time to head back to the reality of Plovdiv city life and work. Maria and I turned the car around, and headed home. But we had a really good day! Thanks for readingMike

Rome

I know this entry is very late, but “better ----- than never!” So… Here goes. Our trip to Rome over the holidays was GREAT! It was everything we hoped, and much more. We spent six full days there. Many people had told us that was too much time, but Lynn and I found plenty of things to fill days with, and were never bored. We had a very early (6:00AM) flight on Dec 27th from Sofia. But we were in the center of Rome by 10:00. After dropping off luggage at the main train station, we immediately began to explore the wonders of Rome. Our very tentative plan was to just try to get a feel for things on Monday. But that did not happen. We went to the coliseum first. The size of things was what amazed me. How did people build these colossal structures 2,000 years ago without cranes, bull dozers, and modern equipment? We decided to get tickets for the Forum, Coliseum, and Palatine Hill Monday afternoon. This was not part of the plan, but it turned out to be an excellent decision. As we moved thru the week, we realized our first few days were almost “tourist free” compared to the number of people arriving later in the week. By Thursday, Rome was exploding with crowds of New Years’ party people. Doing the most popular attractions early was the best thing for us. Our second day was the Vatican. We had signed up for a tour on the internet. Although there can be as many as 20 people on this tour, Lynn and I were the only ones that day. The tour generally lasts three hours, but Andre (the guide) spent four and a half hours with us. Sometimes things just “go right” and we certainly were lucky that day. One of the things we enjoyed most was jut walking the narrow streets (more like wide paths), and stumbling upon piazzas, fountains, and beautiful churches. There seemed to be a cathedral in every piazza, and each one was prettier than the last. Lynn had found an apartment for us to stay the week and it was great. It had a functional kitchen, separate bedroom, and living room with a couple of comfortable chairs. Most important, it was in a perfect location. We were a few hundred meters from the top of the Spanish Steps. When we booked it, we did not realize how good the location was. But we could be out most of the day, come back and cook dinner, and then head out for another “exploration walk” after dinner. In addition to the Vatican, Forum, Coliseum, and Palatine Hill, we managed to see most of the famous churches, squares, and old neighborhoods. We visited the catacombs, and spent part of a day at the Roman Civilization Museum ( a place most tourist seldom go, but we loved it). New Year’s Eve was spent at Popolo Piazza, one of largest piazzas in Rome. It was not as crazy as Times Square, but there were many thousands of excited (ie drunk) Italians there, and many of them had fireworks to toss into the crowds. We were safely on the hill overlooking the piazza and it was just fun! Many of the places we visited did not allow flash photography. But, Lynn got some amazing natural light pictures of beautiful art. Without trying to bore you with a travel log, I will put some of them at the end of the blog. There are not any good pictures of Lynn and I. It was much colder than we had expected, ad we were bundled up in layers looking like little kids in winter or the “Michelin man”. Rome was wonderful. We recommend it highly. Although we are not sure how much fun it would be in the high tourist – hot summer season. Thanks for readingMike

Everyone has a painting like this over the door.

Making Do!!!!I found myself noticing the ways in which Bulgarians “make do” on a daily basis as I traveled to school early last week. Within the fifty minute commute I picked up on three such incidences. The first was right outside the door. It had snowed lightly the previous night and the inch or two of snow had changed our world into a fairyland. The kitchen broom is an obvious choice for removing snow from the windshield of your car, but I was surprised by the use of a long handled umbrella. It was moderately effective, but I wondered if it would ever be functional as an umbrella again! Eight minutes later, while waiting at the bus stop, an older woman was waddling toward me. She had something on her head, not exactly a scarf, not exactly a hat, but something to keep her head covered. It was bright yellow and had a rather strange shape to it. I found myself staring trying to figure out what it was. A close look as she passed revealed that it was a T-shirt draped/ arranged in such a way that the bottom corners were sticking out like little wings just over her ears. The third observation was in the Mahala. A man was sharpening his knife on the concrete light pole. This is an age old trick but because it came on the heels of these two other improvisations it sharpened the thought of how often in a day Bulgarians use what they have to do what needs to be done. They don’t have garages, kitchen cabinets, sheds or whatever full of things used for one thing and one thing only.But they are “savers” and those garages, or back yards may have a stockpile of raw materials that can one day, perhaps ten years from now, be used again..

A city dwellers collection!!!"Left Overs" in Krum's yard - waiting for that "perfect use" sometime in the future!

Another Corner of Krum's parents village yard - more stuff never tossed away! They have a great sense of creativity and problem solving when they are working around the house or farm, but often it does not transcend from their personal lives into their work lives. At school, I find them throwing many resources out, not recognizing the potential they harbor for future activities. Mike and I have mused over this many a time and wonder if it is related to the attitude toward work that was established in Communist times. The parameters of their work were narrow and very clearly defined. We could be way off the mark, but there does seem to be a different attitude toward problem solving at work versus at home or doing something you love.

My Other Car Is A BUS/VAN/TRAM!!!Buses and Vans20 People on the Van

Time for the daily adventure – catching the bus or Van. Let’s start by talking about the buses here in Plovdiv. As I said earlier, there are five different companies. Some of the companies have been purchasing new buses. But most of them are still using very old vehicles. Many of the buses I ride on should have been scrapped years ago. Often their transmission systems are broken, and they cannot get out of second gear. Or they have lost so much of their transmission torque; they do not have the power to go over the train track bridge (the only hill – if it can be called that – on the route). The other day, I got on the buss, and was confused by the sounds it was making. It sounded just like an old steam locomotive. As it chugged along, there would be a loud pressure escaping sound every couple of seconds. I was sure this bus was not going to make it over the train bridge, but it did. Because I am on the bus for a long time, I often try to sit in the back row. The problem with doing this is that the seats in the back can be broken or missing backs. The busses are also used to transport the high school kids in the city. So… when the schools are starting, or switching sessions, there will be hundreds of young riders scrambling on and off the buses. The kids (and pensioners) do not pay the conductor. They all have plastic passes with their pictures, and they just flash them to the conductor.

The real joy of riding a bus is a summer time trip. None of these old buses have air conditioning. In fact, if you sit in the back, you will be on top of the engine, and that heat will rise into the bus. The other thing about summer riding is that there are really no windows to open up. And …even if there are windows to open, Bulgarian have a very strong superstition about drafts, and they will NOT open them. We have friends and colleagues who will catch a cold, or have sore muscles, and they will claim it happened to them because they were sitting in a draft – two weeks ago!! So…. Everyone will sit very quietly in the stifling bus – that has now turned into a natural sun-oven with temperatures climbing toward 100+ on very hot days. Also, everyone knows which side the sun shines into the bus, and everyone will try to sit on the other side. (If the busses were boats, we would all capsize!) The only good thing about hot summer days is that I can walk home – and not have to suffer another trip in the “oven on wheels”.

But the real adventure of the Plovdiv transit system is the VAN. All the vans are white, slightly bigger than a Dodge caravan, and have windows all around. Inside, they all look the same. There is a bench seat in the front where the driver, and two passengers can sit. There is large sliding door on the right side where passengers get in and out. There is a small seat which can fit two thin people behind the driver. Then there is a space to stand, and then two short bench seats facing each other (with no room for your legs and feet on the floor between them), and then another short bench seat, and then the final row in the back. On the same side as the door, there may be two very small seats facing forward. Between the single seats and the small bench seats there is a very small “alleyway” to walk to the seats. In total there are a possible 15 seats – if everyone was very small. But realistically, there are only seats for about 12 people. A van ride gets real interesting if you have 20 people in it (like I did this morning). Ok – now that you have picture of the van, let me explain how it works. A van is part bus, and part taxi. They all have numbers just like the bus, and specific routes to drive. However, you can flag down a van anywhere along the route. You do NOT have to get to a bus stop to get them to pick you up. You can also get let off anywhere along their route. Another important thing to remember about vans is that they ONLY take cash! They do not allow students and pensioners who have those plastic pass cards. This can be good during the school year when the kids have mobbed the regular buses. It is also good because most of the old people could never get on and off the van - - but I am getting ahead of myself.

There is one more important thing to know about the van. There is NO conductor taking money on a van like there is on a bus or tram! That means you have to pay the driver. It also means he has to give you change - - and then he also has to give you that little lottery–like bus ticket! The most important part of all this is that he does all this while driving. This is a “jump on, and jump off” process. Vans are always in a hurry! You get on, slam that big door shut (these doors do not close at the “touch of a button”), give the driver his fare, and try to get to seat before he has shifted into third gear. Yes – these vans are manual transmission.

Now – in case you are confused about the driver activity, let me try to clarify it. The drivers see you flagging him down. He puts his blinker on, and pulls to the side of the one lane street. As you slam the door shut, he is checking the traffic, and shifting into first gear. Between shifting, he will put his hand up, and you put the money in his hand. Most often, he has the ticket already in the same hand you are putting the money, and you grab the ticket. He will then slam into second gear, and you generally have to grab something to keep from being thrown toward the back of the van. I always have exact change for Vans because I am trying to avoid injury, and get to a seat. However some folks give them a 2Lv bill, and have to wait till the next gear shift when he has a few seconds to grab change from the dash board, and give it to you. So… he drives, shifts, steers, takes fares, and gives tickets - - all at the same time. I really get worried when they are talking on their cell phone, and smoking while doing all those other things. And… I have seen them doing ALL of these things at once!

Another interesting thing about the vans are those sliding doors to get in and out of the van. They really are an oxymoron. They almost never slide! It is generally easier to get in, than to get out. You have to realize these doors are opened and closed about 40-50 times each run. There is a real art to getting out of van. Each door has a handle with a button on the top. You push down on the button to release the door latch and push back. But often the latch will stick, or the door will have been slammed shut so that it cannot be moved back. To open the door, you have to get yourself in a slightly crouched position. It is best to use both hands. With one hand push down hard on the button. Then with the other hand pull back hard on the handle. And- (this is where the real trick is) - at the same time you begin to pull back on the handle, you slam your shoulder (like you were a football lineman) into the side of the door. This will generally push the door out slightly, and allow it to actually move backward. And always remember that speed is important – jump on and jump off ! She Needed Help to get out!!!The door is where much of the drama on a van happens. If you were living in Bulgaria you would know about the fashion-culture and way women dress. They always wear stiletto shoes, short skirts, (or tight pants), have enormous handbags slung off their shoulder, and are often carrying another large plastic bag. In addition to all this, they are generally small and very thin, and can sometimes be talking on their cell phones. OK – now think about the process to get the door open on a van, and try to picture how someone with two bags, stiletto shoes, and talking on a cell phone can open the door. They CAN’T! But it is amusing to watch them try. Eventually, someone standing near the door will move to help them, and they bounce out, and go on their merry way.

The other thing about Vans is that they are the fastest transport vehicles in the system. I’m convinced all of the drivers have previous experience as race car drivers some place in Europe. Many of the seats have been pulled up from their anchor bolts because riders have grabbed a seat handle during a lurch forward, or screeching stop, and pull the seats up from the floor. Most often there is one floor to ceiling pole near the back of the sliding door for the people standing to grab hold of. However, I have noticed that some vans are missing this pole, and only have the post holder showing where it once was. It is amazing to watch these vans weave in and out of the other bus and car traffic. But if you want to get some place quickly using public transport, this is the way to go.

So.. that is a small part of our life here in Bulgaria. Like most other things, we really don’t think about it much. It is just part of the daily pattern. But the next time, you pull your car with the heated seat, out of the heated garage that is less than 50 feet from your kitchen table where you have breakfast and coffee, please remember how very lucky you are to live in America, and have what you have – even if you don’t realize it! Thanks for readingMike

Well looks like my weekly school blog has turned into a monthly one, but here is installment two.

There has been a lot going on since returning from the holiday break. First my energy went into getting the final approval for a large project to be implemented during this last semester of school. Petya and I have been working on it since last summer, but parts of it were slow in coming together. The review committee had a number of questions and the holidays slowed us down, but we got word today it has been approved and is in Washington DC waiting funding. We will be purchasing 13 computers, Bulgarian Educational software, a printer and retraining teachers on the use of computers with a focus on how to integrate technology into daily lessons. We will then introduce the kids to the computers. Skills will be varied for both teachers and kids as some use home computers and others have never touched one. Right now we have a couple of old computers in the library and the kids immediately run to them and start clicking away. It will be a MAJOR challenge to teach them to use the computers appropriately and to set up systems for usage, with consequences for undirected use. Getting all the teachers on the same page will be equally difficult, but my optimism and the positive impact keep me hopeful that it can be done. EXPECTATIONS: one of my favorite words and one rarely used here is the key!

Tuesday of this week we had our second International Art Exchange Award program. Twenty two students had their art work sent first to the states and then to participating schools around the world. We will receive pictures from students’ world wide in return. Once again we invited the parents, and they were excited to see their children recognized as participants in this exchange. On display were pictures from last year’s exchange. A slide show of others and a Google Earth trip to some of these locations were all a part of the program. So much more could be done with this exchange program, but the resources are in English, making it difficult for most of our teachers to take advantage of them. Just opening the eyes of the kids to a world outside their neighborhood is rewarding.

Moving on: next week I want to start a special small class for the best third and fourth grade English students. Those that love the language, are in school everyday and in general show an enthusiasm for learning. We’ll only meet once a week but I hope to build their speaking confidence, strengthen their base and introduce reading. I know this is a lot for just under 20 hours. It will be fun though working with kids excited about learning and without the discipline problems. Without any support the challenge will be communicating effectively with them, but somehow we will get it done.

Headshakers in the last few weeks. There are many. The things that angers and frustrates me more than anything else is how the education of the children is the last thing considered when making decisions. Last time I mentioned several cancelled classes for inane reasons. It is a constant. Petya was instructed by the school principal to shorten one of her third grade classes. The principal’s 4th grade daughter was in school and needed help with HER English homework!! There was another incident of a document needing to be delivered to the other building immediately, and although I did the running, the person who delivered the message told the teachers Petya had to go to the directors office…..next class canceled. Trying to set up desks in a way that makes teaching easier…..not allowed because it makes the cleaning ladies’ work more difficult. If we change the room arrangement (from straight rows) in any way it must be returned at the end of each class. The time taken to set up and break down out of a 40 minute session is precious. My anti-littering competition with “cleanest rooms awards” never got off the ground. Again it was because the cleaning ladies who were an integral part of it could not be convinced that the small effort of putting a sticker on the door of the clean rooms everyday for a month would make a change. Some teachers and kids worked hard during the first few weeks cleaning their rooms ever day. When the promised awards did not come……the effort slacked. This is an example of the frustrations of limited language as I could not convey my passion and expectations clearly or easily. I could explain the how but not the why convincingly.

Tsveti, a big lady with a big heart!Ending on the positive side, as I was talking with one of my favorite teachers yesterday, conversation turned to my departure, in part because the application for another volunteer was just submitted to Peace Corps.She is a large dynamic individual with a great sense of humor. She always has the staff laughing as she regales us with stories. Her long career has been here at Naiden Gerov working with the Roma kids. She knows how to interpret their mixed language phrases, incorporates music as a critical teaching tool and has been flexible enough to let me do whatever I want in her classroom (1st grade this year) . She "gets it" commenting after every lesson, about the interactive apsect of thelesson and how that is the way kids learn. I let her know how much I enjoy working with her. She indicated she had not worked with the previous volunteers (youth workers here more than three years ago) and did not want to work with anyone else. She said we were connected because we teach from the heart. I was touched. There are actually a number of teachers in my school who teach from the heart and although their ways of doing things are not what I am used to or consider “good practices”, they need to be recognized for what they do and why they do it.

Symbols

We just got back from Rome, and we are working on a long blog with lots of pictures. However, there was also something we learned during this trip, which we did not expect. Our visit to Rome gave us a little better perspective on our life here in Bulgaria. Lynn and I are often amazed at “fashions” in Bulgaria and some of the things being sold in the windows of the upscale stores popping up around Plovdiv. Walking around Rome, we began to see why there are so many “imitator’s” here. Rome was filled with small specialty stores selling very high-end “designer” shoes, bags, clothes, etc. We found Louis Vuittan, Burberry, and other handbags selling for as much as 450 Euros. (By the way 450 Euros is almost equal to our combined monthly salary here!) Dress shirts for small boys were 75 Euros, and Lynn was sure the little boys would have the shirts “hanging over their pants” within 30 minutes of putting them on. Shoes were prices anywhere from 200 to 500 Euros – and there were not any diamonds on them! But in Bulgaria, we see many stores widows “hyping” Italian designs, or designer names. We still don’t anyone who can afford these items here in Bulgaria (at least none of the people we know can purchase them). However, there are some folks here who seem to have the money to buy them. We noticed that many of the Bulgarians on our plane back had shopping bags filled with expensive items (or they were already wearing them). It almost seemed like Bulgaria is the “poor stepchild”, who is constantly striving to try to be like their rich relatives. In addition to this, it was much easier to see (and experience) the real differences between Eastern and Western Europe. Thinks worked in Rome! There were signs, and it was easy to find your way around. It was well lite, and walking was easy. The busses and subways worked, and machines cleaned the streets daily. In contrast, when we arrived back last Sunday night, we got onto an old “double decker” bus that did not have any working reading lights. It also did not have very good springs, and rattled along during the 2 hour trip to Plovdiv. The public toilets in the airport were not clean, and we had to “re-remember” to put the toilet paper in separate basket. On the city bus home from the bus station in Plovdiv, we noticed the “call buttons” telling the driver to stop at the next stop were NOT operational (which is normal). And in the morning, there will be the Roma (Gypsy) street cleaners out “sprucing up” the roads with their twig and stick brooms instead of an army of mechanized street cleaners. Finally, as we started the final 7 minute walk home from the bus stop, we were not able to walk on the sidewalks because those are for car parking. We were walking in the back streets, and “sharing the road” with other cars.

None of these are really big issues. It is just the way it is. It is not good or bad! They are all small symbols of the differences between countries – even countries which are only a short 70 minute plane ride away - - One hour-plus and a world apart. Thanks for Reading. Mike

A SYMBOL OF PRESTIGE

Yankee Swap. The concept of this gift exchange is foreign to many Americans and the rules and details are discussed annually at our family Christmas gatherings. We thought it a fun way to share some of our traditions with our Bulgarian friends. The gifts they brought clearly reflected their understanding of the “swap”.

The gift I chose from under the tree and was left with at the end of the evening was a leather purse “чанта/ chanta” in Bulgarian. It is an absolutely essential part of a woman’s life and for the most part the bigger the better. I could do a whole blog on Чанти, but not now.

Krum fessed up and said it had been in his house for years. It was obvious it was a vintage piece, and very well made especially compared to what is bought today. The leather was rich but not yet supple as it was clear it had barely been used. I accepted it graciously, knowing I would never use it and would have to find a home for it upon departure along with many many other things that are part of our daily lives.

Ah, but without knowledge, one can not have appreciation. Two days latter, Vesse our Bulgarian friend and language tutor was here for a lesson. As part of our lesson, we usually have to tell her in Bulgarian what has happened to us during the week. The party details took forever to recount, and of course when we tried to explain the Yankee Swap, there were numerous questions. We showed Vessse our gifts and her eyes lit up when she saw my purse. She has one (bigger than mine) as a keepsake of her mother.

During Communist times, being a teacher was a prestigious position. Only teachers had purses like this. They were not used daily but brought out and slung over the shoulder for special occasions, school celebrations and holidays. The women paraded with their students as part of the festivities, and each had these distinct bags that set them apart as “teachers”. Vesse’s mother and grandmother were teachers as is Vesse. She was encouraged by both to study hard so she could become a teacher. I’ve met Krum’s mother Irene (my mother’s name as well). She is a teacher, one of my favorite kinds: a kindergarten teacher. This had been her bag when her work was held in high esteem, unlike today.

So it seems appropriate that I should come away with this purse. Instead of trying to find a home for it here in Bulgaria, I will bring it home with me and hang it upon the wall with the many other mementos from previous generations of my own family. It has come alive with this story and worth preserving and sharing.

Lynn

What A Difference A Year Makes!

What a difference a year can make. Lynn and I are constantly surprised at what we can do in the second year of service, and how much our perspective, outlook, and impact has changed. This year, the holidays are a good example of this difference. Last year, Thanksgiving was great. We had 13 volunteers with us, and it was just like being in the US. However, there was lots of stress trying to put it all together. We spent weeks looking for turkeys, and had several bad starts tying to make pumpkin pie, and other things. This year was a breeze. We really did very little planning for our 10 guests, and everything went smoothly. Knowing what we were dong meant we had more time to share Thanksgiving traditions with our Bulgarians friends this year. The way we did that was with food. We have learned sharing traditional foods (either Bulgarians sharing with us or us with them) is a great way to explain cultures. American pies can not be found here in Bulgaria. In fact, you will not even find standard pie plates. Their Tikva squash has the shape of a pumpkin, but is a dull gray color. However, the tikva is very sweet. We made “Tikva pies” for everyone during the Thanksgiving week. Monday was for my colleagues. Tuesday was the second pie for our Conversational English class. Thursday there was a Tikva and an apple pie for Lynn’s colleagues at school. We used the pies to explain the family Thanksgiving traditions, and they loved them. The only thing left were a few crimbs. There were many requests for recipes, but Lynn is not sure that even if the directions were written in Bulgarian, they would be able to make them without seeing one being made. Maybe some things are better left a mystery!!Christmas this year will also be very different. Although Lynn or I have not purchased any gifts yet (we will get each other some small things next week), we have been very busy – in a good way. And… it will continue until we leave for Rome on December 27. On December 10-11, our NGO had their annual meeting (and Holiday party). We had about 65 people attending the meetings, and the dinner. These are all Roma families we have helped, and the dinner was much more of a celebration than a dinner meeting. There was lots of music and dancing sprinkled in between plenty of homemade wine and rakia. But everyone was up and attending the meetings Saturday morning. Immediately after the annual meeting concluded Saturday, Lynn and I were off to Na Gosti (visiting friends) with a person who has an office on the same floor where I work. Mimi and I have become close, and talk often. She has one son working on Cape Cod, and another daughter in College here. The day before going, Lynn and I got a lesson in making traditional Bulgarian holiday bread. It is called a “holiday Pitka” (roll). Actually it is large round bread, decorated with symbols of “good” things from Bulgaria. This includes strawberries, grapes, apples, birds, wheat, and other things. Our Tutor (Vessi) helped us make it. Mimi’s family was impressed, and it was really good. We combined the Bulgarian Pitka with their traditional Bulgarian dinner and one of Lynn’s American Apple Pies. The entire evening was wonderful. Just before our Annual meeting, I started pushing to have a Holiday party for my colleagues. Last year, (in late January) we all went out to a small restaurant for dinner - - but that was all. I got people interested, and convinced them we should have it at someone’s home. Lynn and I actually wanted to do this at our place, and share more American Holiday traditions with our friends. So… this past Thursday evening, we had nine of us here in our small (but efficient) apartment/home. And it was GREAT! I had explained the concept of a “Yankee Swap” to all my colleagues. This was not easy because there is not even a good translation of the ward “swap” in Bulgarian. And then to get them to understand that you really don’t want to purchase a gift, just find something in your home which you don’t want and bring that as a gift was a challenge. Maria is living with her grandmother, and asked if she could swap her, and Ivan said he had an old cot that he wanted to get rid of. They got the idea! And – just like in the US - everyone had a great time giving (and taking) other peoples gifts. Another wonderful part of this party was the preparation. Other than making Christmas cookies and another pie there was very little else for us to do. EVERYONE brought something. At one point almost everyone was working in our little kitchen. They were putting traditional Bulgarian Christmas eve foods into the oven to warm, cutting up appetizers, preparing breads, and pouring drinks. This is not generally the way we see things done when we Na gosti. When Lynn commented that it felt very American having everyone in her kitchen, we were told it is very normal among good friends. That was good to hear, and even better to watch! I think what was most exciting was to see all these people who we have come to care about deeply, relaxing and enjoying each other. They really don’t take or make time for themselves, and this seemed to be an exception. When we watched a bit of a video tape, what stood out was the laughter. It was 1:30 before the party ended. We had Bulgarian language tutoring Friday morning at 9AM. We were not as “sharp” as usual - - but it was worth it. Most importantly, I think my colleagues will do this again next year – even if we are not here to share with them. This evening, we are going to a free concert at the large music high school in the old city section of Plovdiv. A girl’s choir will be performing, and we have been trying to get to one of their concerts for several months. They travel outside of Bulgaria, and are suppose to be very good. Going to Christmas concerts performed by students is something we have enjoyed doing for years now and it is so nice to keep a tradition like that alive while we are here. After we get back from that, we will be skyping into the Garrigus Christmas party in Massachusetts. With luck we will hook Scott into the call as well. Not the same as being together, but a great substitute. It will also be great to spend a few hours catching up with people we don’t normally have a chance to see. This coming Tuesday evening, we will have a Christmas party with our conversational English class at the YMCA (where the classes are normally held). We did this last year, and had a wonderful time. This group of people has taught us so much about Bulgaria. I expect we will have 12-15 people attending. Wednesday evening is Lynn’s school Christmas Party. Last year, Lynn was sick, and we did not attend. We have been to other social events with them, and it is always fun. Thursday, Lynn, Petya, and I will go to a Christmas Concert with the Plovdiv Symphony. This will be the first time we have heard them. We have been told they are good, and I’m sure we will enjoy it. Then it will be a quiet Christmas Eve here, and skyping with my family in Connecticut. We will try to get to a Christmas Eve service. Last year, the service times were not listed, (or maybe we just misunderstood) and we ended up attending on Christmas day. Then it will be packing up for our Rome trip. We have to be in Sofia December 26, because our flight on Monday is very early in the morning. This year is so very different from last year. And it is much better! One of the few things that is the same about this Christmas and last is that we are not with family. Actually, this year we are spread out even more. Scott is in Iraq. We are in Bulgaria. Shawn and Chrissy are in NYC. Everyone else is in their home. But – everyone is safe and healthy – and those are really the most important things. Lynn and I continue to be amazed by our experience with the Peace Corps. We have never questioned our decision to try this. It is very different from what we expected, and it is so much more. Our holiday wish to all of you is to Never ever give up on your dreams. Always be willing to take chances, and to step into unknown places. None of this is easy, but our experience says that it worth it – VERY worth it!

Have a Merry Christmas – and a Wonderful New Year!

Thanks for Reading – Keep Dreaming!Mike

My Other Car Is A BUS/VAN/TRAM!!!How It Works

I know I have talked about walking A LOT here in Bulgaria, and there have also been one or two blogs which mentioned that I miss my car (all the parts of it). However, I have not really explained the transportation system here in Plovdiv. Although it may look like the public transportation system in any other town, it is really much different. Yes – it does have taxis, buses and trams, and vans, but that is where the similarities stop. So… let me try to explain how city transportation works here in Plovdiv. (Oh – by the way the Sofia city system is much different than here. Plovdiv is much better!)

Before we even start talking about the buses, I need to explain a little bit about the system, because it is very different from what an American would expect. There are NO BART (bay area rapid transits) or NYC transit systems. Plovdiv has five different bus companies. Each company has its own routes. But most of the company’s routes overlap. For example on the major roads near the city center, all of the companies will have bus routes there. Every bus has a number on the front and side window. (By the way, these numbers are NOT lit up at night, and can’t be seen in the dark.) The most important implication of this spider web of five different companies is that you may not pay just one fare to get where you want. THERE ARE NO TRANSFERS because; there is no way for the companies to get funds from their other competing companies. The impact of this for the riding consumer is that you will have to figure out the bus route which will get you to your destination without getting off, and getting on – and paying twice!. That generally means you will take much longer routes to reach work. Efficiency and timeliness are not considerations here. Public service is not high on the priority list either. But, I have never heard any Bulgarians complain about the system. In the US, there would be thousands of irate citizens converging on city hall to complain about the non-integrated public transit system. But not here!Oh – there is one other important thing to know about this system. Yes – every bus and tram and van has a number. And they all go different places, and their routes overlap. But - - there are duplicate numbers. For example, there is a #3 tram, and a #3 van. There is also a #4 Van, and a #4 bus. And their routes overlap. So… when you are struggling to figure all of this while looking at very small bus/tram/van numbers on a large city map, it is very easy to get screwed up. When we first got here, that did happen a few times until we had memorized more of the system. It was a little bit of an adventure to jump on the #3 Van expecting it is going one place, and end up in the other part of the city because you really wanted the #3 tram. Thankfully, we got that figured out very quickly!

Another interesting part of the transit system is the ticket payment process. This system works, but I am amazed at the simplicity of it. Every bus or tram has a driver and a conductor. The conductors collect money (it costs one Leva – like one dollar), and gives you a ticket. Every conductor has his own system for holding each type of coin, and where to keep the bills. It appears to me that the conductors have to purchase their own bill/change purse because none of them are the same. Although they will give you change, it is best not to give them more than a 5 leva bill. But the most interesting part of the system is the ticket. Each ticket has a number on it. These tickets look almost like a “little league Lottery ticket”. The conductor knows how much money he/she starts with, and the beginning number on the ticket pack. Each number is a Leva. At the end of the run (or day) the ticket numbers have to agree with the amount of cash he has taken in. If you take a intercity bus from the bus station to another city, often you pay the bus driver, and he will use a similar system. However, then the tickets all have different leva amounts on them. So, if I pay nine leva to go to city of Smolyn (three hours south of us), I will get a 5Leva ticket, and two 2Leva tickets. It all seems “old world” to me, but I have to admit that it works. Trams are longer than buses, and have fewer ridersNow that I have helped you figure out where you are going, and what bus to take, and you have gotten your ticket from the conductor; it is time to talk about the trams. They are a story all by themselves. Most of the buses and trams are second hand from Germany. You can almost always find some German language label somewhere in the vehicle. The trams are the oldest vehicles in the system. They are electric, and connected to wires above the road by long flexible rods which “ride along the wires”. However, the trams are the slowest form of public transit, and the most prone to problems. When the trams are going through an intersection, there will be multiple wires and wire connections they have to transverse. The tram will have to carefully “crawl” through the intersection hoping to keep the poles on the correct wires, and to get safely through the “wire intersections” above the road. Often this does not happen. And when one of the rods “flys off and up”, the tram will stop - - in the middle of the busy intersection - stopping traffic in all directions. Then the driver will put on heavy gloves, and go to the back of the tram to pull down the rope connected to the rod, and reconnect the rod to the wire. Although this generally only takes a few minutes, it does mess up the traffic in that intersection. All of the other car drivers in the city understand this problem with the trams. They will do everything they can (including cutting off the tram) to get in front of the tram. I am always glad Trams are very big because those little cars will get hurt much more than we will if we hit them when they are cutting us off. So… that is where we will stop for this time. My next "transportation" blog will talk about the ‘Grand Prix” race car drivers of the Plovdiv City Transit System, and the joys of riding in non-air conditioned buses with all the windows closed when it is 95 degrees outside. Till then - -

Thanks for readingMike

School. What is it like? That has been a tough one to answer, and probably the reason I haven’t written any blogs about it. Unless you have experienced teaching in an American ghetto, it will be difficult for you to imagine what it is like day to day. We can look at it from many perspectives, examining it by looking at the students, the teachers, the administration, the facilities, and lastly the educational system at a national level. Each can be scrutinized regarding their attitudes, their behavior, their motivation, their level of performance etc. Of course each of those could be a PhD dissertation. So, instead of trying to tackle the whole thing I’ve decided to write a weekly update, highlighting the good and the bad from each week. In time it should hit on the many variables of teaching in the Bulgarian educational system.

Yesterday was a classic day, with a number of individual events that are quite typical. A year ago, I would have been beyond frustration, shaking my head and wondering how this could be. Yesterday, I just accepted this as the way it is, decided what I had any control over and how I wanted to proceed next!

My first class was my only 6th grade class. It follows a 20 minute break (like a recess for the whole school). The problem with this time slot as well as first period is getting the students to class on time. It is not unusual to start a 40 minute class with about 8 kids. The rest stroll in as they please, often eating whatever it was they purchased at the break. Some are up to 20 minutes late. They might have to ask to enter the class and explain their tardiness, but there are no consequences for being late. They are not expected to make up the time, to complete the work on their own, nothing. In reality there are no consequences for most behavior….only the most extreme. This a fairly large class of 25, but lately less than 18 have peen present. Non-stop talking is an ongoing issue. Teachers constantly try to talk over their students, yell at them to quiet them, or bang a very large stick on the desk to get their attention. The kids are the quietest when they are writing. I don’t know if it is because this is the one constant in their educational lives or because it requires intense concentration. The first activity I tried failed. With the smaller groups we have been doing an opening exercise, standing in a circle and quickly greeting the person next to us, practicing my name is… what’s your name…..how are you….this is……he/she is…..etc. With almost everyone present, arriving at different times, I just could not get it to work. Separating those who were pushing, jabbing, teasing etc was a constant, if I got the talking under control it was for less than a minute.Because their English is so poor, only a handful can do this without me modeling every word for them. I gave up. We moved on with the lesson, and the rest of the class was a bit better if you think calling out, talking, combing hair, doodling, or doing nothing at all are acceptable. We sang some songs about days of the week and months of the year and had a hands on activity (sitting at their desks). when the bell rings, they do not wait to be dismissed. They are up and out!

With an hour and a half break I decided to hustle to the other school to observe a 3rd grade class who’s behavior has been worse than usual. LOUD is the first thing that comes to mind followed immediately by PHYSICAL. However, as I was approaching the school 2 ½ hours into the day I saw many of the kids on the street heading home. When I got to school, the teacher explained the kids were supposed to have Art, but the Art teacher had something else to do, so the kids were released for the day. THIS IS NOT UNUSUAL!!!

OK move on to something else. Petya ( my counterpart) appeared with news that she was just told that she would be on vacation starting tomorrow, until Dec 20. Apparently the central government decided that employees could not carry more than 10 days of vacation, leave, or whatever they call unused paid time into the new year. My thought was did they not see this as a problem sooner? Because our directors call on Petya to do so much extra work, she has accumulated about 20 extra days over the last few years. If she does not take them now, she looses them. She may loose some of them anyway, as they are expecting her to be back for the last few days before break to write all the monthly reports for the assistant director that need to be submitted to the central government. Why Petya does all the secreterial work for our little school is a question we keep asking ourselves. The anser seems to be because she knows how to and no one else is paid to do it.

We talked about my covering classes for her, but decided against it. We are trying to get a major funding proposal finished before Christmas and this will give us time to work on that. Also the assistant director had been assigned to cover for her ( but will be teaching health and safety, not English). Apparently she will be paid extra for these hours. We are both convinced that if I am there, she will find a reason to not be in class, but continue to be paid as if she was. We both suspect the classes will be dismissed early a number of times as well. So, there will be no English for 3rd and 4th grade for the rest of the month.

As part of the paper trail, Petya had to sign and submit a form to the school secretary. However, the secretary was not at school during the lunch break and Petya had to wait until 1:00 to drop the paper off ( that was all she had to do). Oh, but at 1:00 she has a class. Too bad for the kids. They get written off, don’t have English and the paper gets delivered on time.

While she was waiting for the secretary to show up I returned to the other building for a class with a few of the teachers who want to learn English. I wasn't seeing anyone. Inquiries led to one not being interested today, one having a name day and going out with friends,one unaccounted for, and the last not in school because he is on vacation using up his extra days! Back to the other school for classes.

When Petya returned (the one secretary is in the other building) we prepped for two back to back classes. Planning, if there is any, usually occurs in the few minutes before class and consist of identifying a topic to be covered. The classes were OK. Nothing extraordinary either good or bad. Finishing up the day though took a little time as Petya had to enter marks for the months of November and December into the mark books for the three third grades (I don’t know what happened with the fourth grades?) This took about 10 minutes as we quite randomly gave each child a number (1-6) six being an excellent. They were not based on anything other than general impressions of their English. There have been no tests, no quizzes, no grades on daily work, and no measurable marks of any kind since September. Sometimes a student would get the same mark for both months sometimes a different mark for the two months. If they were a “good” child they would generally get a higher mark whether their English was good or not. The lowest mark was a 3 even for those who rarely attend and really don’t know anything. The reason being, it really doesn’t matter, because the government has decided that no child in the elementary level shall be retained. In general, marks are not reflective of what a child knows.

So that was my day at school. Unfortunately, after more than a year, none of those events surprised me. Do they bother me? Absolutely. Do I loose sleep over them? No, not anymore. Have I given up? No. Though many of these problems are systemic and I have little or no power to change them, I can still try to raise questions, help an individual teacher change what happens in his/her classroom, and put my energy into making a difference for these kids.They need every ounce of help they can get. The good news... when the classes found out they would not be having English for the rest of the month they were very disappointed. Though I won't be teaching English to the majority of my classes in Dec, my plan is to work with them teaching them 4 square and other outdoor organized games. This will be in Bulgish...a combination of English and Bulgarian. Life goes on!!!!

lynn

АСЕНОВГРАД – Asenovgrad Asenovgrad is a small city located 25 minutes (by train) south of Plovdiv. It has about 55,000 people, and the elevation in the city is 900 Ft. above sea level. It is a town Lynn and I visit often. The round trip train ride costs each of us only 1.40Leva, and it is a great escape from our more crowded city. In 1230 Bulgarian Tsar Ivan Asen II strengthened the local fortress Stanimaha (now called Asen’s Fortress) and because of this reason the city was named after him in 1934 (literally city of Asen). Among its more unique claims is that it is the wedding dress capital of Bulgaria with more gown shops than any other place. It also has more chapels and churches per capita than any other Bulgarian city (15 total including one at Asen’s fortress). Most importantly, it is nestled right into the base of the Rhodopes mountains. Within two hours of getting on the train in Plovdiv, we can be high up in the hills around Assenovgrad. From the Assenovgrad train station, it is a quick walk along the short pedestrian walkway next to the river before you take a left and start taking narrow streets leading steeply uphill. There are trails in the mountains all around this small city, and Lynn and I have only started finding all of the connections, and ways to get from one trail to the other. We wish there was a local map with all the trails, but we have only been able to find a map with the major trails throughout all of the Rhodopes mountains. Of course without a good map, it just means you have more adventures, and also have to talk to more people to try to figure out where this (or that) trail may lead. The Cliff from half way up - at the West end of the ridgeThis past Sunday afternoon, I decided to head to Asenovgrad, and try to connect some of the trails we have taken in the past couple of months. In order to do that, it meant I had to climb up a very steep (almost cliff-like) section of one of the ridges, and see what was at the top. I had already taken a small trail more than half way up the ridge, and we had seen other people coming down this trail. We just did not know where those people had been coming from. We had never seen anyone along the top of the ridge. But I just had this “feeling” there had to be a trail up there. So… off I went. I had lots of water, some food, and my map (without all the trails) with me. That small trail I had been part way up on an earlier trip, got steeper, and pushed around behind the cliff exterior. I was thankful for that, and hopeful that I would find out that this trail came out on the top. As long as I kept going up, I figured I was going in the right direction. It turned out that this trail did take me to the top, and it was Spectacular!!! You could sit on the top of the cliff, and see into the rest of the mountains off to the south. Lynn and I like this ridge because you face the south and get the full effect of the late Fall and early Spring sun). We can go here, find some rocks, and just sit in the Fall sun soaking up the warmth like a snake. From the cliff on the top, the view was awesome. And… the trail kept going. Looking East along the ridge.

So… Like any explorer, I followed the trail to see where it would take me. I found a walk that I will try to repeat often. The trail continues along the top of the ridge. But what I did not know until I walked the ridge was that the top of this ridge is almost a “knife edge”. The top was normally not more than 100 feet wide. In many places it was only 30-40 Feet wide, and most of it was a barren rocky top. That meant, I had unbelievable views whichever way I looked. To my left, the ridge dropped dramatically off 2000 feet to the valley floor where there was a patchwork of grape, wheat, hay, and other fields. The view toward the valley was unobstructed for as far as the haze would allow. To my left, the cliffs dropped to the small stream in a valley a thousand feet below, with a view into the higher (almost 4,500 Ft) mountains south of this “front-range” ridge that I was walking. The trail took me along the ridge for about 50 minutes until I reached the ridge end, where I was amazed to find a small chapel. Even more surprising were the 15-plus people there who were restoring the chapel. It is rare to find Bulgarians working to bring back old structures. More amazing was that they were doing it here in the middle of the mountains. I was not able to figure out how they got the mortar bags, bricks and sand to the chapel. There must be some old logging road off the edge of the ridge near the chapel. But I guess finding that trail is just one reason to make another trip to Asenovgrad. Asens Fortress with my ridge walk in the backgroundAlthough I could have headed off the eastern edge of the ridge at the chapel down into the forest, I decided to return back along the ridge to another trail I found near where I climbed up on the ridge. It was a glorious sunny November Sunday, and I wanted to make the “ridge walk” again. So.. I headed back, stopping often. When I got to the end, I parked myself on the cliff, had some apple slices, soaked in the sun’s warmth, and enjoyed the view. While I was there, some other people arrived including a couple of young “mid-twenties” girls and their small “dust-mop” dog. We all decided to leave the cliff at the same time. I asked them (in Bulgarian) which the fastest way was down. On the trail I came up, or the new trail I found going down the other side. They told me the new trail, and they were going down that way. Since I was not sure where exactly this new trail would come out, I was happy to let them lead the way. It was much quicker. But what was more fun was the conversation on the way down. Irena and Dianna both lived all their life in Asenovgrad. They had gone to college in South West Bulgaria about a three hour drive from here. They have graduated, but are looking for work which they cannot find. They showed me where they live, and I assume they are living with their parents – like so many other Bulgarians. They asked me all of the usual questions. How long have I been here, where do I live, where do I live in the US, do I like Bulgarian food, do I like Bulgaria, and on and on. I also asked about them, where they went to school, what they did, etc. (By the way, this was all in Bulgarian.)The trail we were on ended up on a large high rocky cliff-like peninsula which projects into the edge of the Asenovgrad. Lynn and I see this cliff wall every time we visit. There is also another chapel at the end of this cliff peninsula. Our trail down the mountain took us past the cliff to the front of the chapel where the girls talked to some other folks. Then we headed backwards along the trail we had just come on behind the chapel to the cliff. I was confused! There is no way down, and I kept asking where we were going? Irena told me to watch and learn! And we headed over the cliff edge on a small foot path that zig zagged down the cliff. At one point, they told me they were mountain goats – and I agreed. But we got safely down, and I learned the trail. At the bottom, they asked if I knew how to get to the train station. I did. We parted, and I headed to the train station and home to Plovdiv. They went back to their homes. It was a wonderful day!!!Thanks for readingMike

Blue Mosque, Istanbul, Turkey

One of the Seven LakesWhat started as a trip to Istanbul ended as a jeep excursion into the Rila mountains. Twice a year our faculty ventures together on an “excursion”. Most often it is in Bulgaria, but this fall a plan was in the works for two nights in Istanbul. That never came to fruition, I’m guessing because of the expense. An alternate plan was developed; a one night trip to the beautiful Rila Mountain National Park to the mountain top resort of Panichishte the place we spent our first four nights in Bulgaria with Peace Corps. It is a beautiful location and this time the promise of a lift ride to the top to view the famous Seven Lakes enticed us to join the group. The excursion is an opportunity to dance, eat and drink together. Not everyone goes, but for those who do it is usually a fun time.

We set off in a luxury bus right at noon on Friday. It is about a four hour trip, none of it on highways. First through the flats and then up and over one pass after another. Looking down in some locations, you know that puny little guard rail would never stop a full bus from careening off the edge. But our driver was cautious and the edges of sheer cliffs became less threatening. As we neared our destination, it all looked familiar. Interestingly, some colleagues had never been here. We find this to be true often as we talk about places we have been in Bulgaria. We have certainly been to more places in Bulgaria than either of our counterparts.



The Panorama Hotel was appropriately named. It sat in a clearing facing south with wide expanses of mountain views. The sky was a clear deep blue, bringing the outlines of the snow covered peaks into sharp focus. A large patio even in late October with the sun shining was a wonderful place to sit and enjoy all this grandeur.



Mike and I immediately set out on foot in search of this new lift reported to be about twenty minutes away. We found the signs but it was more than six kilometers away. Too far for a late afternoon trek. Instead we just enjoyed a shorter walk with some colleagues.

News broke early that the lift was not working, a great disappointment for those of us who had planned to ride it the next day. We had come prepared for what might be a cold 20 minute ride and a 30 minute walk once on the top. Seven Lakes sits at about 9,000 ft.

There are two things that are consistent among Bulgarians. Most often plans come together at the last minute even for rather large events, and details just aren’t part of the plan. In America, one of the planners certainly would have confirmed that the lift was operational at this time of year. As a result of always being in “crisis mode” they are good at scrambling and solving problems on the fly, or just accept things as they are. This time there was a plan within a few hours of hearing the lift was not working to take jeeps to the top of the mountain where the lift would have dropped us. All was well and good.

Saturday morning was just as clear and beautiful as Friday had been. It would be perfect at the top, with opportunity to see all seven lakes from one vista point. At the designated time three jeep/four wheel drive vehicles were parked out front and ready to go. It was a squeeze getting everyone in. Ten people were packed into my jeep: a father and son in the passenger seat, four women sitting two forward and two back in the back seat and four good sized people cramped into the way back with very little head room! As we left I thought there were still people waiting to go and thought there must be another jeep on the way. I never did sort that out.

The first 15 minutes were on a newly paved road and there was much laughter and excitement. A few expressions changed as we reached the bottom of the lift and started up the rugged construction road. We zigzagged back and forth under the lift several times and expansive views opened up a few times. This was going to be SPECTACULAR! We splashed through puddles formed by descending streams and bumped over good sized rocks. I didn’t care for the driver smoking and talking on the phone while driving, but at least we were not on cliffs edge while he was doing it.

During one of the phone calls I heard him say чакай! Wait! And before long we were stopped. Another quick call and we were on our way. Around a bend and up a VERY steep incline. Part way up and we could go no further. Ice and spinning wheels! Back down and try again. Same thing. Third try unsuccessful. Time to lighten the load. Everyone out. Back down with only the driver and another attempt. Over and over again while we watched. Up ahead of us the first jeep had cleared this part of the hill, but was enacting the same scene on the next part of the hill. Below the third jeep waited patiently. Our driver eventually tried an alternative route from the lower waiting point, only to get hung with two wheels in the air 20 yards from the road. The first jeep eventually gave up as well and returned to the flats, quickly rescuing the hung jeep.

"I know I can, I know I can"!Not this time, but next time for sure!

Everyone OUT!

Rescuing the "hung Jeep"Eventually we had to admit defeat and turned to return. However my jeep which was packed like a Volkswagen full of clowns on the way up now only had five people in it and one was not someone who had come up with us. Where were the others? Had they been shuttled back already? Another mystery!

Back over the stream puddles and rocks feeling disappointed. Will we have the opportunity to return to the Seven Lakes again before we leave Bulgaria? The snows remain on top into summer and they are not easy to get to. Bummer!

Suddenly my jeep turns off the road and we are attempting an ascent up a logging road, much worse than what we have already experienced. Now there were trees to dodge and much bigger stumps to get hung up on. What is he doing? A failed attempt one way just means try again another way, and that is what we did several times. No one in the jeep is saying anything, just numbly sitting and watching. In the meantime the other two jeeps have stopped and are waiting on the road. Again failure, more discussion and off we go again to the base.

Oh No! NOT our driver. He heads back from where we just came and sure enough we try again (with the five of us still in the vehicle). On our way up the impassable stretch we see a VERY LARGE logging vehicle backing down. This is the kind of machine that has tires larger than I am tall (no laughing) with treads as deep as my hand. If he can’t make it up certainly we can’t. But no, once it is out of the way we try again, first forward then in reverse. I’m thinking ( in Bulgarian) enough already. What is motivating this man to be such a fool? Is it the money for he would garner in this one afternoon a week’s salary, pride, or stubbornness? God knows. All the while we are just very quietly accepting this. I could not stand the foolishness any longer and said (in Bulgarian) “Enough, this can not be done and there is not enough time to go to the top.” I got no response from anyone, but within minutes we were turned around and heading back. The other jeeps were no where in sight. They had not waited to rescue this fool hearted colleague if he had once again got us hung up! Once we hit paved road there was a collective sigh of relief.

Feeling safe, I enjoyed the vistas that would appear as we descended, but became alarmed again when the jeep stalled for no apparent reason. A few tries of the crank and nothing. Had he emptied the tank of fuel with all those attempts up the hills spinning wheels furiously? The driver hops out, grabs something from under the driver’s seat and lifts the hood. Blinded by it we can only guess at what he is doing. The sounds of a compressor certainly leave me confused. Unhook the compressor and back in the jeep. Several more false attempts and I’m thinking surely we have run out of gas. His stubbornness is rewarded and eventually he gets the jeep started and we are off again! The hotels are looking familiar and we are now within walking distance to the hotel if anything else should go wrong.

Once back, there seems to be some commotion among the teachers which neither Mike nor I could understand. We try to sort it out by watching and listening but eventually have to turn to Petya to translate. Apparently those people that did not return in my vehicle are STILL on the mountain. They had decided to walk to the top. All but one have cars at the hotel as they are planning to extend the long weekend by going other places nearby. They are in touch with the group and it is estimated that it will be four hours before they return. There is talk about a jeep waiting to pick them up but where? We have learned to just go with the flow as there is nothing we can do. However it becomes clear 38 people riding the bus back home are going to wait for the ONE person who decided on her own to hike to the top. Mike and I certainly would have joined her if we had known it was an option!!! There is surprisingly little discourse about the waiting….once again just accepting things. Petya says, “We have no choice. She paid for the bus”. As Americans you can imagine our thoughts about that. She is not being stranded on the top and once down there are two cars heading toward a town with buses to Plovdiv!! But we wait. Her four hours were only two but I can tell you she was not a popular person when she returned. The director had a few words for her, we boarded the bus and headed home. There is a good chance Mike and I will get to Istanbul and return to the Seven Lakes long before many of these Bulgarians do.

As crazy as it was, we had a good time. The camaraderie, location and weather were all worth it plus we had another Bulgarian adventure!!

Lynn

Visiting Villages #3The Difference This blog will be the last in this series about visiting villages. The first two “Visiting Villages” blogs talked about specific events (i.e. a walk in the woods, and picking potatoes). However, the real important aspect of visiting villages is the DIFFERENCE! Visiting a village is very different from our life here in Plovdiv. Plovdiv is a relatively modern, cosmopolitan small city. In the villages, it feels like you are stuck in some sort of time warp in the year 1930 (or a little earlier) anywhere in rural America. I think there are several reasons for this “flashback feeling”. The community - Villages are definitely a community. And like any small group, they are tightly knit, but with a few “stray” pieces of thread. They have their local drunks, and town politicians (most towns have a mayor), and problem children which the entire village knows about. There are probably several “baba benches” where many old ladies will watch to goings-on in the town, and gossip. Young volunteers can never get by one of these groups without being asked “Where are you going?”, “Do you need food?”, What are you eating?”, or “Your hair is wet - - you will be sick tomorrow!”. In some other part of the village, there is a group of old men sitting around a chess board or playing cards. They are generally complaining about something, and pinning for the “old days” when things were always better. An early version of “Mayberry” without Sheriff Andy often comes to mind when you are in a village. The work – lots of it - - Another thing that binds villages together is the work. Everyone has a garden! It is the center of their home. There are no grass lawns where families play, and husbands pick weeds and dandelions. Every square foot is used. There are no shade trees, but there several fruit trees in many yards. If there are lots of flowers, then there may also be several bee hives in the back yard. Oh – and there are generally some chickens running around a pen. The shade comes from the grape vines and the arbors they grow on. And then there is the garden which is full of tomatoes, peppers, beans, potatoes, onions, and anything else you may be able to eat or can. And in August when it is dry, every plant will be watered by hand with a bucket and a ladle - - every day. There is not modern power equipment to take care of the garden. I have watched old men with 50 year shovels turning the dirt in the spring. And if they are lucky, a neighbor with a horse and plow may come by and give them a hand. Villagers are in the gardens every day working with old hoes, picks, or shovels so there never seems to be any weeds in a village garden. In the fall, at harvest time, the wood fires are started on the sidewalks, or backyards, or outside stoves to begin the canning process. This will go on for days, and they will literally fill up an entire room with jars. The small “walk-in pantries” we have in the US are puny compared to what you find in the canning room of a village home. From Spring to Fall, the work is almost endless. Sharing everything - Another important aspect of village life is helping and sharing with others. Volunteers are particular targets of this sharing. I know some volunteers who will get tomatoes, peppers, wine, rakia, and cucumbers just walking home through their village. During PST, there were constant examples of this trait. My host dad had four bee hives. He was constantly giving honey to people for any help they gave him. I remember one night during dinner when another village folk stopped over with a very large pail of fresh picked strawberries. His crop had come in, and there was more than he could use. The next day, we were cooking strawberry jam! One day in Plovdiv after a storm, I found an old couple trying to clear a tree limb from the road using an ancient axe. The old man had a cane, and it was almost comical (if it was not so sad) to watch him trying to swing that axe. I came up, took the axe, and had the limb cut up in about 15 minutes. As the old ladies dragged the cut wood toward their home (they wanted the wood for their stove in the winter), one of them went off and came back with a bottle of homemade rakia for me. Everyone helps, and everyone gives something back. The connections - One night after eating at the only restaurant in the village, we were heading home. We had to pass by the local bread bakery. Our village volunteer knew some of the people who worked there. They worked from 8PM to 3AM every night, and made all of the bread products for the entire village. It was close to 11pm, the door was open because it was a warm Fall night, so we went over to say hello. It was great to see this operation. There was bread coming out of the big old ovens, other breads in pans raising, and still others fresh out of the oven. The manager offered us parts of a large circular bread by pulling pieces apart. It was still warm. Then she spread a black jam-like substance on the bread. Now what – I thought. What is the “tar” on the bread. Well – I didn’t know what it was, but it was wonderful. Even though we had just finished dinner, we polished off the bread (and tar jam) before we left. The following day on the way back from our walk, we passed some villagers picking red berries about twice the size of cranberries. They grow on high-bush plants. They were called Drinki. Our friend stopped to talk to them and we ended up with about 5 pounds of berries to take back to Plovdiv with us. But – we found out they were what the “black jam” we had at the bakery was made from. Two days later, Lynn and I figured out a way to make the jam from the berries (even though it has pits), and we now have 6 jars of that great Jam. Connections like that happen all the time in a village. The Seasons - Probably the most important factor in village life is the seasons. Their life is still dominated by seasonality, and the weather. The preparation, growing, and harvesting are the major cycle of village life. Even though they may be watching TV at night, they are still growing, and harvesting the same way it was done decades (or more) ago. And when winter comes, the village shuts itself down. There is less bench sitting, and fewer parties in the street. However, there are still lots of celebrations. During December and January (in addition to Christmas and New Year), most of the name day celebrations are held. These are like Birthdays on steroids! It is the day of the saint you are named after. Those days are when the home made wine and rakia are spread from home to home. Thankfully, everyone can stumble back to their own home when the days are done. Lynn and I are so lucky to be able to experience village life in addition to our city life. In America people take trips to Plymouth plantation, or Williamsburg to learn about our history, and the way life used to be in America. Here – you don’t have to pay money, or make a long trip to the East Coast. All you have to do is take a short 40 minute drive out of any city and visit a village – and travel back in time. Lynn and I are very happy with our city life. But we also love having the chance to experience village life with other volunteers. It is all part of the Peace Corps experience, and as they say in the MasterCard commercials – it's priceless!!!!Thanks for reading.

Mike

Visiting Villages #2 Potato Picking

It is Fall. The weather has gotten cooler and grayer, but it is not cold yet. In the villages, there is a flurry of activity. Just like squirrels before the winter, village folk are busy bringing in every harvest they have. In Bulgaria one of the harder harvests is picking potatoes. When we visited our friend, you could see people all thru the village walking around with large “dirty white” burlap, or multi-colored bags heading back to their homes one bag at a time to bring in the potatoes – or apples, or pears, or tomatoes, or…As we were returning our walk in the woods, just outside of the village there was a group of people working hard in one of the potato fields. The views of the mountains from their potato field were beautiful. However, we doubt many of the workers took any time to “view the local scenery”. They were bent over pulling the potatoes out of the ground. We believe they knew there was heavy rain coming the next day, so there was some urgency to getting this done before the field turned into a muddy quagmire. The village we were visiting is a “mixed religion” town. There are many Muslims, and also many Christians. The younger generations of both religions are not practicing either. But they all work together. In this field there were two Muslim women in traditional “work garb”, and several other women and girls in western clothes. (Lynn took note that there were NO men working in this field!) What you are wearing has nothing to do with the work which must be done. And the work is similar to what has been done for ages. No matter how you bring “up the potatoes”, you still have to bend over, pick them out, clean the dirt from them, put them into buckets, and then into bags for transporting. Sometimes there is a small tractor with a special equipment to turn the soil, and bring the potatoes up toward the top. Other times, it is just lots of digging with a pitch fork. The hardest method is to use a big type of hoe to “pound the dirt”, and turn over the soil. That is what they were doing in this field. But, whatever method you use, you have to be careful not to damage the “tubers”. We stopped to watch this activity, and take some pictures. Our walking path was quite a ways from the work field, but it was still easy to see the activity. However, we did not stay long. Our fellow volunteer is known by everyone in the town. We had already gotten about 6 pounds of fruit from other villagers picking berries just before we reached the potato field. We did not want to be given 20 more pounds of potatoes to take on the 5 hour ride back to Plovdiv. Even though we were tired from our long hike, there was a small part of me, which would have liked to help in the field, and bring some of the potatoes home. Maybe that is just part of my Irish “potato” ancestry pushing up to the top. Thanks for readingMike

Visiting Villages #1A “Walk in the woods”

One of the things Lynn and I do as often as we can is to visit other volunteers. Often we are visiting folks near the rail lines because it is so much easier to reach them. However, the more interesting trips are when we have a chance to visit fellow volunteers who live in the more remote (generally mountain) villages. Getting to these villages can be an adventure in itself. But the experience of “village living” is always worth the five-hour rides in small “van-like” busses which follow roads that weave along mountain streams or in constant “S” turns as they go up and down the mountains. The part of these visits which is most interesting is that they are like time machines. They take you back 60-100 years ago. Village life is completely controlled by seasons – planting, growing, harvesting & canning, in the spring, summer and fall; and then resting, celebrations, and drinking homemade wines and rakia during the cold dark months. These places are often nestled high in the mountains with every day views that a hotel would charge a ‘kings ransom” to give you. The volunteers are watched 24/7, and everyone knows where you are, and what you are doing. They are also given free food from the gardens or invited for “na-gosti” (visits and food). It is a VERY different life from the one Lynn and I live (almost anonymously) in the cosmopolitan city of Plovdiv.

A couple of weeks ago, we had an opportunity to spend time in a small village less than 10KM from the Greek boarder. From just this one visit, we probably have three blog entries. The following is a blog about just five hours of that visit, during which time we took a very long, challenging, and beautiful walk in the woods.

We had to walk out the back of the village, and along the way we picked-up two colleagues who worked with our volunteer friend. As we got nearer the edge of the village, there were mountain fields where hay had been stacked. And, there were small orchards with people working bringing the apples, pears, or what ever else was planted. From the pastures we could see our destination. It was the next mountain top. But in order to get there, we had to descend almost a thousand feet to the valley below, and then hike up to the open pastures on the top of the next mountain. As we began the descent, we started to hear chain saws. In the mountains, lumbering is a significant business. During the walk, we watched several trees crash to the ground (BTW – trees do make a sound when they fall in the forest). After close to an hour we reached the stream with a bridge crossing the gorge below. There was also a spring “spigot” for us to fill our water bottles, with a “communal” cup for anyone to drink from. Then it was uphill for an hour and half.

During the climb, we passed several storage buildings with thatched roofs, and mud and stone walls. Inside was hay, wooden pitchforks, or just anything needed for work in the mountain pastures. During the hike up, I felt kind of like a bear getting ready for winter. We passed more springs, and found a few blackberries to eat. Then we found a walnut tree near a stone wall. We almost did not make it to the top because of this. We spent lots of time cracking the nuts on the stone wall, and eating the moist nut meat inside. When we did get to the top, we found there were several apple trees there with small, sweet apples to munch on. All this natural food combined perfectly with the grapes, cheese, homemade bread, and chocolate bar we had brought along for the picnic lunch.

Even though, the weather was overcast, it was beautiful sitting up there, looking out on the vistas, and soaking up the silence. We must have stayed there for an hour and a half. And then it was time to head back down. We spent as much time at the walnut tree on the way down as on the way up, but finally did get to the stream, and then headed back up to the village. It was a great walk. We were jealous of our fellow volunteer who can do this walk anytime. But we decided to try to visit him again in the spring when the mountain flowers are everywhere.

Mike

Our Work Is International News!!!Who Are Gypsies, and Why Is France Deporting Them? Roma, on Move, Test Europe’s ‘Open Borders’ I know that there are still some of you who don’t really understand what it is that Lynn and I do. Actually that is pretty reasonable because we don’t really talk about it in these blogs. About a year ago, we both did one entry on our work, but that is not much. One of the reasons is that the work arena we toil in is very large. We are a very small insignificant part of a much larger picture. If we focus on the small part we do, it is really hard to understand how it fits into the “big picture”. And if we talk about the big picture, you don’t really understand how what we do fits into it. It is kind of like seeing the vast green forests of the Appalachian Mountains from a roadside lookout without ever being able to see individual trees – let alone the branches of one tree.

Well, international events have helped to make that very large picture a little easier to see and understand. We first heard about the news when we were in the US for Shawn’s wedding. Driving down from NH to Mass, there was a 15 second news clip about France sending back (deporting) thousands of ROMA to Romania and Bulgaria. Lynn and I were surprised to hear about this European news in the states. We were not surprised about the action!

Both of us are 100% dedicated to working with Roma (or Gypsies as they are called – when they are not called things much worse). We each have a vastly different perspective on this problem. Lynn works in one of the largest Mahalas (Ghettos) in Bulgaria (or Eastern Europe). It has 45,000 plus people in less than 2 square kilometers. She teaches English in one elementary school which has about 500 kids in it. Although we believe she is know in the Mahala, her sphere of influence is primarily within the school.

I work in nine small (with less than 5,000 Bulgarian and Roma people) villages within 100Km of Plovdiv helping to provide income generation opportunities (primarily farming) to about 80 families. Our group touches about 350 people total. We have been developing our model for more than ten years, and we have become very successful within our limited sphere of farming families. The funding which I helped get for my NGO this past year is a test to see if we can “franchise” our model, and put it other places in Bulgaria - - and maybe in other countries. If we can be successful, then we can potentially impact thousands of disadvantaged Roma.

But – right now – Lynn and I are only impacting a very small number of gypsies that are part of a vast problem throughout Eastern Europe. This problem has spread to Western Europe since Romania and Bulgaria became members of the EU a couple of years ago. All this brings us back to the news from France. Deportation of European citizens who are now able to cross boarders freely should not be happening. But one of the many results of the financial crisis is a lack of job opportunities. The Roma went to Western Europe to find jobs. But there are very few opportunities now. So… they take welfare funds, or beg on the streets, or a few of them may pickpocket or rob others. In the meantime, they build “squatters” camps in any vacant places they can find. France has decided they know how to solve this problem. Send them back to where they came from! I think this must be some “basic instinct” in mankind. I believe Arizona has just passed a bill with similar intent. But, I suppose, deportation is a much better solution than the genocides which have occurred so many times in human history.

But just like immigration reform in the US is a complex problem, the Roma problem is even more complex. Gypsies have been roaming throughout Europe for more than 500 years. The hatred and bigotry has been passed down and grown from generation to generation. Europe has developed a huge program called “Decade of Roma”. It is a ten-year program to fix the problems. But you can not expect to wipe out hundreds of years in in-grained learning and bias in just one decade.

And, you can not expect the Roma to make needed changes in ten years. The Roma cling to their culture and heritage which can be very different from the cultures in the countries they are residing. Then, the European press (like the American press) focuses on specific events (like 11 year old girls having babies), and sensationalize it. The rest of us then make the assumptions that “all of them are doing that!”. And so it goes – on and on and on!

Following are links to very good articles which do a much better job at giving you a glimpse of the bigger picture than I ever could. One is from the New York Times, and the other from Time Magazine. Both are considered “liberal-biased” press, but they seem to have a pretty good perspective from what I can see here with my “feet on the street”. If you have the time, take a look at some of the other links from these articles. And – if you really want to get a sense of things – take some extra time to read a few of the comments at the end of the articles. During the past year, I have found reading article comments can provide a “unique” perspective into the emotions, bias, (and sometimes hatred) on Roma and other inflammatory issues – both in Europe and in the US. New York Times http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/17/world/europe/17roma.html Time Magazine http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2019316,00.html

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2013917,00.html

National Public Radio http://www.theworld.org/2010/09/27/life-for-roma-back-home/

Lynn and I don’t have any “silver bullets” or brilliant insights to solve this problem. We are still learning all of the aspects of the issues. And – when we leave next August – we will probably still be learning. But, while we continue to learn, both of us try to take small steps to have an impact on a few people. And – who knows – maybe in another decade - or two – someone we have touched can make a substantial impact on that “big forest”. Then maybe all the trees and branches can be seen and their beauty shine through like when the autumn leaves change the drab green vistas into brilliant, vibrant pictures. We can only hope!

Thanks for readingMike

Shawn and Chrissy MARRIED!!!!!!!

It was wonderful, beautiful, emotional, fun, exciting, thoughtfully planned, and a reflection of Shawn‘s and Chrissy’s love for each other.

Since they live in Queens NY they held the wedding and reception close to home. It was held on the east shore of the East River, on an open air hotel rooftop with the Queensboro Bridge and the Manhattan skyline as backdrops. The weather was a bit windy but warm, bright and sunny. The day was permeated with a sense of joy, intimacy and celebration. Dan, Shawn, Cousin Megan, and Sean

Before the ceremony friends and family (including Shawn and his attendants) were mingling and taking pictures. When it was time to begin everyone took their seats and places and the ceremony began.

Mike and I and Chrissy’s attendants walked into Simon and Garfunkel’s 59th Street Bridge (also know as Queensboro Bridge) reflecting the whimsy of the day. The ceremony held so many words of wisdom and truly expressed what is important in a marriage. Shawn and Chrissy were standing just feet away from us and it was an unusual delight to see and feel their emotions as they pledged their love, said their vows, exchanged their rings and accepted the responsibilities as well as the joys of marriage.

Chrissy, Mom & Dad

Vows

We'll be right back! Following the recessional out one door, the wedding party reappeared a few minutes later through a different door and the picture taking and festivities began. In due time, the guests boarded a big yellow school bus to be shuttled the few miles back to the hotel where we were all staying until the reception began. An outdoor patio provided a gathering place for the pre-party! A few hours later the school bus returned for another trip to the reception hall, also nearby.

Shawn's rather large family ( nine others missing)Chrissy's rather small family

Wedding party. While we were enjoying the first party, the bride, groom and attendants went for pictures to Gantry Park (also on the shore of the East River) where Shawn had asked Chrissy to marry him. Following that Shawn, Chrissy and the photographer stopped at a few iconic locations, then took the #7 train to Grand Central Station for more pictures both in the subway tunnels and at the station. They are unique and amazing pictures.

On the #7 train from Queens to grand CentralMissed that train!

Grand Central Rail Station

A prayer for Scott led by Mike's dad Grampa Lynch,toasts and speeches proceeded the dinner .

Our thoughts are with you Scott!The surprise of the evening was the revelation of the honeymoon destination. Shawn had planned the honeymoon; with the only other person knowing where they were going was Scott (who wasn’t telling anyone from his location in Iraq). With a beautiful purple and white lei from Hawaii, we all (including Chrissy) learned of their plans.YES! HAWAIIEverything about the day was an expression of their love for each otherand . They planned and touched every part of this wedding, leaving only the final implementation to others. Touches of purple (Chrissy's favorite color) were everywhere right down to her shoes and the argile socks for the men.

Love those socks!Pretty purple shoes!

Every song we heard or danced to was selected by them. The music ranged from Kermit the Frog singing Rainbow Connection to Frank Sinatra and Kenny Rogers with a variety of great dancing music from Hip-Hop to the Twist. We even introduced the traditional Bulgarian Horo , a part of every Bulgarian wedding to the reception. Chrissy made all the invitations, centerpieces, flower arrangements and props for a photo booth set up at the reception. Their selection of venues from the rehearsal dinner to the places for pictures reflected much thought and their attention to the comfort and ease of their guests in such an overwhelming city was highly evident.

Young Ben stole the show!FUNKY! Bulgarian Horo Dance with the father of the groom in the lead!Getting down!

Our visit with family and friends at the wedding was extensive, starting on Saturday and spilling through the day on Monday before we boarded our own plane back to Bulgaria. I’m so glad we took our vacation time up front before the wedding. Everything following would have been anti-climatic.!!!! The only thing that could have made it better would have been to have Scott with us for this oh so special day.

Thank You Shawn and Chrissy for a wonderful day.

Coming To America -

I had the Neil Diamond song rattling around my head most of the plane ride to JFK airport, and it seemed an appropriate title for this blog.

America – USA – Home – I had not been there for 15 months. What would it be like? What about all of those things that I missed – how great would it be to have them again? And, - then – what about returning to Bulgaria – would I miss all of them all over again? Like most things in life, the expectations were very different from the reality. Following are some of the impressions and feelings I had during the trip. It was a “fast-paced” hectic trip. I have tried to make this blog “cryptic” with quick – choppy thoughts – kind of like the entire trip.

1. Tuesday Aug 24 - English – spoken everywhere! We flew British Air. From the Sofia airport ticket desk everything was in English. I had forgotten how much energy it takes to be trying to constantly translate what you think you are hearing.

2. We had a great flight from Sofia to London mostly because of wonderful Bulgarian young lady who sat with us. She studied in Cambridge England, and has a law degree and a finance degree. She is currently working for the Bulgarian Ministry of Finance. She symbolized all that is hopeful about the future of Bulgaria.

3. Heathrow airport – terminal 5. WOW! Signs everywhere! Efficient people transportation! People explaining expectations – in English (and other languages). Lots of stores to window shop in, and places to eat!

4. Bathrooms without wet floors from plumbing leaks

5. Finally into JFK, and seeing Shawn and Chrissy. A fire in the Long Island Railway computer center has stopped many trains – almost like Bulgaria – but the cabs work fine.

6. At Shawn and Chrissy's place – time for a beer. What – a 12 ounce bottle! That is about the same as a “juice glass” in Bulgaria.

7. Sticker Shock – How much did that puny bottle of beer cost? $3.50 – Yikes!!!! Take me back to BG where I can get 2 liters (almost 64 ounces) for about $1.95. One bottle is enough for two nights!

8. Wednesday - Sticker Shock Again - $50 to hem Lynn's gown. One week earlier in BG we shortened and took in three pair of pants for 16 Leva (about $11). My wallet will be cleaned out in just one week!!!!

9. Taking the Shore Line North train to New Haven to pick up a car and see Pat and Molly. We rush thru Grand Central terminal to catch the train – but walk back to just look at the beauty of the station. The Sofia and Plovdiv train stations are “out houses” compared to it.

10. On the train. We have not eaten all day. Lynn still has some BG peaches that survived the plane ride. One bite, and I'm longing to be back. It is hard to get fruit and vegies in the US like we get everyday here in BG.

11. We get to Pat's. Molly, Colman and the boys are there for dinner also. They start asking about life in BG, and we keep talking – and talking - - for almost two hours!!!! We got “talking about Bulgaria” out of our systems, and apologized. However, no “eyes glazed over”, and everyone said they were interested. (We hope that is the truth.)

12. Thursday – Our bank card does not work so we can NOT get cash, and Lynn has to make an emergency visit to the dentist. We are a “half day late” on our schedule, and it is only the second day. The hectic “American pace” is quickly creeping back!

13. We get to Cape Cod late in the day, but we were still able to spend a couple of hours on the beach with Meg, Bob, and the kids. Then off to diner at a restaurant on the water. American food portions are HUGE. We had forgotten that!

14. Friday – Spent the entire day with Dad on the Cape. Although we did lots of things to help him, it was a slower day. But, at 87 years old, Dad is very active. Went out to diner – but this night, we split one meal between Lynn and I.

15. Saturday - Left the Cape early heading to NH to see friends. Made our “first” stop for Ice Cream at Kimball’s in Westford Ma. This is one thing we both really miss in BG, and by the end of the trip, we had OD'd on home made American Ice Cream!

16. Had a late lunch (about two hours after the very large portions of Kimball’s ice cream) with Bill and Janet at the Bedford Inn.

17. After a long lunch, it was a 10 minute drive to visit and spend the night with Deb and Randy. It is so wonderful to see friends and have time to talk and visit with all of them!

18. Sunday - Randy has an extra bike and helmet, so we take off for an early morning bike ride. I am amazed at how good I feel doing it. But more importantly, I remember how much I enjoy biking around the New England (or Wisconsin) back roads. It was great - - but I wish I could do it every day.

19. At noon we are off to the NH coast (Rye) to visit with Cindy and Doug. When we get there, we decide to go to Kittery Maine to sit on the harbor, and eat lobsters and steamers. This place used to be walking distance from where Pat lived, and we have spent many long, relaxing afternoons here watching the boats, drinking beer, sipping wine, and eating lobster. Lots of great memories – and we added another memory Sunday afternoon.

20. After a short rest, we head to Rye beach for sunset. There were very few people on the beach, and we enjoyed the sound of the crashing waves, and quiet conversation with Cindy and Doug. It was very relaxing. We finished off a wonderful day by having Doug take us to a New (for us) home made ice cream place. It was almost as good as Kimballs.

21. Monday – Left early for Ken and Paula's in Mass. But they live near Kimball’s (Yup – we had more ice cream!). We also met with Kristen and Ben, and played mini-golf. It was fun! Surf and turf for dinner at Ken's. Food overload is setting in - (well actually, it is strongly in place)!!!

22. Tuesday - Ken showed me an overnight mail package I had gotten from my bank about refinancing our home. I had not really considered doing this. However, a couple of long phone calls, and some quick research convinced me I should try to do it. The rest of the day is getting paperwork, and going to the bank to apply. It is really hard to explain to a banker how a Peace Corps volunteer gets paid because we don't have a salary – just a living allowance! I'm not sure we will ever get the loan, but we are still working on it.

23. During this entire trip, Lynn and I were constantly shopping. We had a long list of things we wanted to purchase and take back with us. But that meant that every spare moment we had (and there were few of them), we were checking the “shopping list”, and off to try to find things. In the middle of this, we accidentally found a perfect backpack for Lynn. It was a women' extra small, and it fit like no other we have ever seen. But backpacks were not on our shopping list, and demanded we make logistical decisions about our travel plans (which don't exist) for the end of our service trip. The pack was back in NH, and on Tuesday Lynn and Paula made a three hour round trip drive to purchase it.

24. Late in the day, we head back to Connecticut to spend the night with Pat. We also visit with Richard and Evet, and have a quiet dinner with Pat.

25. Wednesday - We sleep in, and run errands in the morning. Pat takes us to a small Long Island Sound town nearby called Stony Creek. We sit on the porch of an old general store on the harbor and have lunch. It is really beautiful. Then we take a long walk on a rail trail along the marshes in the town. It is another wonderful afternoon. We finish off the day with a big dinner with Pat, Molly, Colman, and the boys. We did NOT talk about Bulgaria during this meal!

26. Thursday – More errands and final frantic shopping in the morning. Then at noon it is off to New Haven to drop of the car, and take the train back to NYC and Grand Central. We are heading off to see Shawn and Chrissy, and maybe help with any final preparations for the wedding on Sunday.

27. We cook dinner for them at their place. There ARE LOTS of things we can do to help, and we are very thankful to be there and able to help. We head back to our hotel (where we will stay in one bed for four nights) at midnight.

28. Friday - Did I mention that were lots of things we could do to help for the wedding? We worked till about 7PM, and left the kids to themselves. We met with Ken, Paula, Roy and Betty at the hotel later that evening.

Saturday thru Monday – Shawn and Chrissy's wedding. IT WAS AWESOME!!!! The kids planned everything – even down to every song played during the reception. But this is where I stop this blog. The wedding (with pictures) deserves it's own blog entry.

Our trip back to Bulgaria was uneventful, which is what you want. As I walked home the first day back, I remembered the familiar smell of grilled food as I walked by a restaurant. A few blocks later, as I walked past an old communist “bloc” apartment building, I could smell the sweet septic aroma rising from a leak some place. When I got home to the apartment, the dogs were constantly barking across the street, the old Russian cars without mufflers were slowly bouncing up our cobblestone street, and there was the constant noise of people walking and talking in the street under us. But Lynn was there. I had bought a bottle (big) of beer. There was fruit in the house, and a shopka salad to be made by me. It was good to be home!!

Mike

A "NEW" Me!!!

So – How do you like the new look? The new Me? I know that it sure makes me look different. And I think I like it - - a lot!! I have been thinking of “shaving” my head for almost two years. But I was not sure it was a good idea while I was still working, and then not sure it was a good idea before Shawn and Chrissy’s wedding. I think there would have been an excuse forever unless I just did it. So, after getting some help from Chrissy with her photoshop skills to see what it might look like, I got it all cut off.

Actually, I think I will be very happy this way. I was not happy with a “comb over” that always seemed to “blow over” the wrong way every time there was a breeze. Unless you washed your hair daily, (which is hard to do in Bulgaria) it just seemed to “flatten” out and all the bald skin showed through anyway. Most importantly, I just did not like it.

Several people have said that I look “younger”. That is a sure way to get me to keep it - - even if they are only being nice. However, I think the “new me” is more than the hair. I have lost 20+ pounds here. I walk more than 20 miles per week. I am eating more fruits and vegetables than I ever have – and enjoying it! I have a tan like I had in my twenties because of all the walking in the hot Plovdiv sun. And I just feel good! So why not make a change to symbolize all of this – and get rid of my “limited amount” of hair. However, I have been thinking that the symbolism may be much more than just the physical aspects of my life here.

During the past year, I have had a unique opportunity to work at the “Close of Service” (COS) conference for the last two groups of volunteers leaving. I just did the second one last week. It is an emotional time for volunteers. It is just as stressful (if not more) than coming here in the first place. You need a job, or you may have a significant relationship. Are you going to grad school, where are you going to live, or is the future just very “fuzzy’?

During these COS conferences, there is lots of discussion about the “Peace Corps Experience”. I know that I have mentioned it many times in other blogs. The PC Experience is amorphous. It is a blob that slowly gets eaten away by small microbes while you don’t even know it. But it is changing all of us – all the time – in ways none of us really understand. And it is when you are getting ready to leave, that you have a chance to think about it, analyze it, talk about it, and try to better understand it.

An important part of the COS conference is the former PC volunteer panel. This is a two plus hour session with six to ten other volunteers who have served anywhere in the world, and may have finished their service one year ago, or 30 years ago. I have been amazed at the consistency of feeling and experiences among all the volunteers.

They all say similar things. “Don’t expect your friends, and relatives to really want to know about your life in the Peace Corps. Most often their eyes will glaze over after five minutes”. Then you will hear them ask “What about those Rockies – or Cowboys – or Celtics?” Most often panel members will say the PC Experience has had a significant impact on their lives (and in many cases directed their job choice, mate selection, etc.). But they almost all also say that they have rarely been able to explain the true impact of the experience to anyone else (unless they were talking to a former PCV). That may explain why the returned Peace Corps network is so strong. Just like West Points “long gray line” of brothers, returned volunteers have a unique “one of a kind” experiences to bond them together.

Having worked with two groups of volunteers preparing to close their service”, I would have to agree with the panel speakers. Almost all of the volunteers getting ready to leave know they are different – but very few who could simply say what the difference is. Most of the time they stumble over feelings, and try to find the correct words, and other times they hug each other with tears in their eyes.

I saw this for the first time a year ago with the B22 group, and did not understand it all. But now it is different. I have been here for a year. And even though it is not a full two years worth of changes, I know what they are talking about. For – yes – I too have been changed. Changed is ways that I don’t fully understand, and can not even begin to explain on paper. In fact, I am not sure I will ever be able to express it appropriately. I just know I feel it. I feel it in my being, and in my heart. We all join the Peace Corps to make a difference and to change the “hearts and minds” of others. But, the irony is that often we may not make the impact on the lives of others which we hope we would, but almost always our PC experience has a substantial impact on each of us.

So – yes I have cut my hair and there appears to be a “new me”. I did not cut it to make any “grand statement”. Yet, in retrospect, I find it interesting that the symbolism of the “new me” may mean so much more than just a superficial look.

Thanks for reading!Mike

Not everyone in Bulgaria would agree with me, but every weekday when I see the Romi street cleaners keeping every part of this city clean for its citizens and guests I think what amazing women they are.

I first saw them in our training village of Varshets. I thought at the time it was unique to that town and a great way to provide employment. It was summer, there was always some litter on the sidewalks, but more often there were nature’ droppings…….seed pods, leaves, flower pedals or fruit that if left unattended, made the area “grungy”. Most fascinating when I first saw them were their brooms. Tied onto the end of a wooden pole (or sometimes a stick) was a thicket of shrub branches, easily replaced when worn and always available. Most important they were FREE. Scattered throughout town, these ladies methodically swept not only the sidewalks but the street gutters as well!

I was a bit surprised when we moved to the big city and once again saw the Romi street cleaners. During the fall they were responsible for “raking” the leaves not only on the streets and sidewalks but also from under the shrubs in the parks and along the street medians. For weeks on end they fought what seemed like a loosing battle, but Mother Nature finally gave up having shed the last of her foliage, and they were victorious.

With the leaves all swept away, I wondered if they would continue to work through the winter. Absolutely! They continued with the daily cleaning of sidewalks but as the weather worsened and the snow made its appearance and the ice started forming, they took on new responsibilities. Outfitted with flat wooden shovels and bags of sand they now cleared the sidewalks or chipped away at the ice at the bus stops, making it safer and easier for all of us hurrying to work or tending to our needs.

With the threat of snow past for another year, came the spring clean-up. All the sand they had carefully spread throughout the winter now lay heaped in the gutters, or filled sidewalk crevices. Very methodically they swept and bagged it all, swept the garden lawns and prepared the city for another rebirth.

I love walking this city, but I particularly enjoy it when the Romi street cleaners have preceded me. They are what keep the city from looking like a dump as many of its residents do not think twice about littering. If they were ever to “strike” the city would look quite different in just a week’s time.

Just like a child who's attention is heightened with the musical call of the ice cream truck on hot summer days, my ears perk when I hear the "swish, swish" of the tree branch brooms. I know the ladies are close by.

So to you ladies, I extend a smile, a greeting and my heartfelt appreciation for the amazing job you do!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lynn

There are a number of ideas that Peace Corps pounds into our heads right from the get go. One of them is the idea of SUSTAINBILITY in terms of skill transfer and projects. It has been a problem for Peace Corps from its inception. It is all grand and good for the Americans to come into a country with ideas, energy, optimism, idealism, resources and so much more, but it is another thing for our work to continue long after we are gone. There are “Volunteer Monuments” all across the globe…libraries that are unused, computer labs without technicians to maintain them, gyms that are locked and so on. Obviously there are many successful projects and significant skill transfer resulting from volunteer efforts, but it is still a whole into which many of us fall.

With this in mind I did NOT want to do the summer camp I was asked by my school director to organize with my counterpart. The reason being, that a PCV had done such a camp three years ago and it had not been repeated since. Where was the SUSTAINABILITY? Running a camp also meant finding funding….never a fun thing to do in my minds’ eye. Some people are good at it. Let’s just say it has always been one of those organization jobs I have always avoided carefully. The last road block was a shortage of time. In true Bulgarian fashion we were not asked to start working on this until after Easter break…basically the middle of April.

With no choice but to move forward I decided to try and make it worthwhile. Actually like so many projects it started with a loose framework and flushed out as we went. The first thing to do was understand how the previous camp had been run and why it had not been repeated. After hearing about it the two key elements that I thought needed changing were the number of kids involved in the camp and a change in staff. Previously PCV were brought in from the neighboring region to engage the kids in games and crafts. As stated by Petya, they camp did not continue because there were no PCVs. I hoped to go from 40 campers to 120 and from PCV running the camp to teachers implementing the activities. (We reached 95 students and 7 teachers worked the camp) We decided a theme would add more meaning to the activites for the week and started under the larger umbrella of “environment” and narrowed it to “litter” a major problem in the mahala. Internet searches, books etc offered many ideas for games and projects and the camp started taking form. Writing the proposal resulted in defining goals for the students and teachers as well. There were still approval and funding hoops to negotiate (some done by Mike while I was in the US) but at last we got the go ahead and the funding just in time.

Now that the camp is behind me I can say with great pleasure that it exceeded my expectations in so many ways. I never doubted that the children would enjoy it, but I did not anticipate they would enjoy it so much. The satisfaction reaches beyond the children though, to the teachers who implemented the camp as well as other on-lookers including Roma security and custodial staff. Not only were the activities new for the children, but the idea of learning through games and fun was as well. To have the adults recognize the value in this was what energized me. It was seeing kids who struggle everyday in school with behavior because they are learning disabled, fully engaged, having fun and being successful that made all the work worthwhile. It was seeing the teachers work in teams, negotiating the dynamics of leadership and support, offering their own suggestions and having them implemented that reflected signs of change, and it was seeing the kids working in pairs, small groups and larger teams successfully that convinced me they are capable of whatever is expected of them. The camp was not without flaws and not as successful as we would have liked if measured by the “indicators of success” required by the project funders, but from my point of view it was wildly successful. Will the lessons learned by the students be evident in September? Perhaps, if we reinforce them with a school wide “anti-littering” campaign. Is it sustainable? I’m not sure, but it has a better chance than the last camp because it was completed by them, not for them, and with another year to practice the skills learned at this years camp …..it just might continue beyond my service.







LYNN

A few weeks ago, while standing at the bus stop, I noticed a man painting the light posts. He was working only on the lower part.....whatever he could reach without a ladder. I was impressed that the rusty light post had been primed. He was painting it a metallic blue.....looked nice....wonderful improvement. I looked to my right and noticed that the poles on my side of the street and the center median had also recently received the same attention. The sentinels on the other side of the street were still wearing their rusty red uniforms. It lifted my spirits to think one of the indicators of a neglected infrastructure was being addressed. But how wide spread would this phenomena be? The 30 minute bus ride was spent scanning the city streets, looking for other blue metallic light poles. hey came and went as I traveled through different neighborhoods.

During the ensuing weeks I have watched the various stages of work being done, and felt sorry for the man who was prepping the poles. He was sanding them by hand with a fold of sandpaper (could it possibly be 3M paper?). My heart went out to him, knowing that once again in Bulgaria the tools of work never seem to match the size of the job. I can't imagine in the states that the removal of over 20 years of rust on a whole city's network of light poles would be tackled by an individual with sandpaper!!!

As I travel around the city my eye is continually drawn to the light poles and the difference they make in the overall appearance of the area. I wonder how many other people have noticed. To me it changes the mood of the street. I believe that by summer's end, the whole city will be brightened (we'll see about Stolipinovo) by freshly painted light poles. Is it too much to hope, that there is a plan to do something with the bus stops as well!!!!

Lynn

Why Aren’t You Going…..Home???Notes From a “Whiney” American

As many of you may know, Lynn is back in the US for a quick one-week trip. The major reason for the trip is to see Scott before he deploys to Iraq. But she is also combining it with some preparation work for Shawn and Chrissy’s wedding in September. (We will both be coming back for two weeks then.) Since Lynn is going back, I have gotten the question from several people “Why aren’t you going also?” It is a fair question. And, I do have an answer. The first part of the answer is that Lynn and I had been discussing only her going home for a long time. However, we did not know if Scott would have any time before he left. (As the XO executive officer), he is the one responsible for all the paperwork, checking, and double-checking to be sure everything gets to Iraq.) While we were waiting for final clearance, and information from Scott, Lynn and I had always only been thinking that Lynn would be one going. “It is a Mom-thing”, and I was OK with that. Although I would have liked to see Scott, I did not have a strong need to do it, and Lynn did. However, as event finally unfolded (and all this happened in about 36 hours), Scott did have more time off than we thought, and Lynn could actually get almost two days with him. As we worked though all the logistics, and checking flights (and having British air cancel all of the preliminary reservations because of a pending strike – so we had to start again), we kept our focus on getting Lynn there. The day after we had made the reservation, we looked at each other, and asked “Did I want to go?” I had really not thought about it! Often in life, you have a goal or direction, and you get blinders on – just seeing that one thing. You can miss everything else. So… I had not thought about it. Did I want to go? I was not sure. But why not? The first reason was simple. I still did not feel I had to see Scott. We do get to see him often on Skype, and talk a lot. The second reason was that I would be home in about two and a half months for the wedding. The third reason was much more complex, confusing, and obscure. When we made the decision to accept the Peace Corps Invitation, we also decided we did not want to return to the states during the two year tour. We had read that coming back to the states was hard because you would experience all the things you are missing. And… then you would have to go back to Bulgaria – and forget again all those things Americans take for granted. It would be like Tantalus seeing what he wanted, and then turning away. We did not want to do that. However, that decision and strategy got changed shortly before we left when Shawn and Chrissy announced they were getting married. (By the way – we are very glad to be coming home for that.) But, I still had those feelings (or maybe fears) about going back to “cushy America”. You maybe asking yourself, “What is Mike talking about? I have seen them say how happy they are in Bulgaria. What is different now? All of that is very true!! Lynn and I are probably as happy here as we have ever been anywhere. But we have adapted, accepted, and embraced our life here. I have happily forgot most of the things I took for granted at home, and go about life here like most Bulgarians. But – lest you think life here is a “cake-walk”, let me give you an idea of a few of the many things that I have conveniently “erased from my mind”. Although this may seem like a list of “whiney” complaints, it is not! Think of it as a way to better understand our life, and the Peace Corps experience. Before I launch into the list, remember Lynn and I are very happy here, and I will say that again at the end of the list.

A few things I miss from America

My car – and the ability to go anywhere, anytime, without waiting for a bus. The comfy leather seats with lumbar back support in the car The six speaker sound system in the car that I can crank up full volume when the mood strikes me. The 3.2 liter engine that can tear down the interstate and make me think that “I am king of the world”. The garage which is just 12 feet from the door to the warm house The garage door that goes up and down at the touch of a button Never getting wet going from the car to the house. My own “full-size American” bathroom. Lynn and I share a 5 by 6 bath now. Heat in the bath room – especially in winter! (You have no idea how cold toilet seats can get. Some volunteers had their seats crack and break this winter.) Taking showers for as long as you want! The hot water will not run out. A king size bed! A comfortable mattress that doesn’t make you stiff every morning An electric blanket to keep you warm – especially when you first get into bed in the winter. An ergonomic office chair. Our home office. (right now, every day I work at our kitchen table – until it is time to eat when I move my computer) A large monitor to easily view – like the one at home A comfortable lazy-boy chair. (Now I use a chair like you have in a meeting room for eating, working, and most everything.) A view of the St. Croix River out our bedroom window. Watching the bald eagles soar at eye-level off the bluff from the back yard. Biking the back roads of Wisconsin. Our cozy home in Wisconsin instead of the 420 sq feet apartment we have here. A Dairy Queen cone when ever I want it. (That may be why I weighted 20 pounds more at home.) An “American-size” refrigerator stocked with cold food and drinks Several types of Wisconsin cheese instead of only one kind of white or yellow cheese. Our doctors, dentists, good hospitals, and great health care just 5 minutes away. A government that functions efficiently (you should see how poorly things work here) without blatant “mafia control” of most everything.

Well, I could probably keep going till I reach 100 on the list. But I hope you get the idea. Remember, LYNN AND I ARE VERY HAPPY HERE! But that does not mean Bulgaria is a paradise, and our lives here are without small trials. When you have been here for a short time, you begin to appreciate so much more what we have in America. And most of the things you miss are what everyone takes for granted at home. Possibly the most important thing to understand is that the vast majority of people on earth live like we are living now here in Bulgaria (or MUCH WORSE). America really is unique and special. And most Americans do not have a clue just how lucky they are to have been born American. Unless you have experienced something like we are experiencing, I don’t believe any American can begin to understand “how good they have it”. Recently, I found this short presentation which emphasizes this. If you have read this far in the blog, please take a couple more minutes to watch the presentation. No matter how I feel today, I will be home for the wedding, - experiencing and remembering all the things I have conveniently forgot. I’ll see you all in late August. Mike

Andy and the VolcanoAndy Viner made it to visit with us over the May first weekend. Although I was worried that 3M would cancel his flight because of expenses, the trip was not cancelled. And then when all of Europe’s air space was closed due to the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in Iceland, I was sure he would not make it. But, I was just being too pessimistic. All the parts of his arrival flights were on time, and everything worked out great. Even “Mother Nature”, and the Volcano could not stop this reunion. I have read several of the blogs of the younger volunteers who have talked about their parents, siblings, or relatives visiting. They always talk about how great it is to see them, and how much they appreciate it. As I read those blogs, I had always thought it was because they were “kids”, and their loving parents had come to see them. Well – after our visit from Andy, I am seeing this in a slightly different perspective. Yes – it was great to have Andy here, but some of the reason it was so good was because of things that I had never thought about, or expected. I expect the other volunteer visits were good for some of the same “unexpected” reasons. Lynn and I are immersed in our day to day life here. As we have said before, the changes, confusion, differences, and challenges all tend to eventually “blur” into one murky pattern of every-day life. We don’t always think about things. But, when a guest comes (especially an inquisitive one like Andy), I found that I had this unexpected “drive” and desire to talk about everything. I did not realize I had this need to talk, (and talk, and talk) about all that we have learned, experienced, and assimilated here. But, when given the opportunity, I found it hard to keep my mouth shut! (Please – no comments about that has always been an issue for me!) Thankfully, Andy was a very helpful partner in this, and constantly kept asking questions. And then I could just keep on talking. The other part of this pattern is that I don’t believe any of this would happen unless people visit us. The guests have to be here to see situations, and ask questions. Without those questions, most people would quickly get very bored just trying to listen to us, and understand what we are saying. In fact, we have been told when we return, we have to expect that most people will only want to hear about 5-10 minutes of our experiences before their eyes will “glaze over”, and their heads will begin to nod. Although Andy may have gotten tired with the pace we had, his head never nodded. We had a great time. Following are some pictures, and the schedule we had for the visit.

Thursday –

A “jet-lagged” Andy was up early, and we went off to visit Lynn’s school, and walk through the Mahala (always an “interesting” experience.

Then we had lunch with folks from my foundation. My counterpart Krum is on the left. Ivan, our director, is next to him, and Maria is the person who is in the office with me most of the time. After that, we just spent time walking around our beautiful city.

Friday –

We took the train an hour and half north to visit Hisar. Hisar has some of the most extensive Roman ruins in the Balkan Region.

Saturday –

In the morning, we drove with my foundation to a small village about 40 minutes away to watch a folk dancing competition which was sponsored and organized by us last year. This year, the village did it all on their own. In the afternoon, we just finished a easy walk around Plovdiv completing the tour of our town.

Sunday –

I took Andy to a monastery 40 minutes south of us into the mountains. The visit to the monastery was quick, but the hike into the mountains from there was longer, and more challenging. The quiet, solitude, and spectacular views from the mountain tops made the struggles getting there worth while.

Monday – I took Andy back to the airport in Sofia by train. The ride goes near some snow-covered mountains, and was an easy trip. His flights back to the UK were on time, and uneventful.

We had a great time. And, we think Andy had fun too. In addition to his visit, he also had about a half a suitcase full of goodies for us. Thanks to all the folks who helped with the supplies. We are already using them!

We have decided it is really nice having visitors. Although we really don’t expect any others, we will welcome everyone who decides to go through the trials of traveling almost half way around the world to see us.

But most importantly – Thanks to Andy for being the explorer – the first to visit. Mike

The education of children with special needs in Bulgaria is in its infancy. Like so many things here, you can compare it to the United States about 50 years ago. Traditionally any child with a physical or mental handicap has been institutionalized and like many of our institutions in the 60’s and 70’s, they have been pretty deplorable.

There are no children in the schools here with physical limitations with the possible exception of deafness, or blindness. There is a school for the deaf near my school, but you will not find these students in a regular classroom. I know of a very bright high school student who is blind and attends one of the better Plovdiv high schools and does very well. I know there are teachers in the municipality who work with special needs students, but it is usually for a minimal time per month, and rarely in the school setting. Mitko is a first grader, who on the very first day of school I picked out of the crowd as someone who was probably ADHD. He has an engaging smile and is always eager to greet anyone he meets, but he quickly demonstrated the confines of school were challenging for him. I believe by Christmas he was no longer coming to school. The explanation was that he was seeing a resource teacher. On a few occasions following that I did see a man who visits the school periodically try to work with Mitko in the library. Mitko was having his way, dictating the terms of engagement, and I have not seen them working together since. I don’t know what has happened to Mitko, whether he is attending a different school, is receiving a few hours of education a week from the “specialist” at home, or has just fallen through the cracks. Whatever it is, it is not enough.

On Friday of this week, I visited a friend whose assignment here in BG is to work with the special needs population. She works in two settings, an orphanage and a day care center for disabled students. I spent about three hours at the orphanage and two at the center with her. They were very different, and rightly so. Though they both serve a special needs population, their directives are very different.

The orphanage is just that on one level. There were healthy children who are orphans or whose parents can not care for them for whatever reason, but do not want to give them up to the state permanently. The families may have contact with the child, while others are put up for adoption. The second group is the severely physically or mentally handicapped. As difficult as it was to see some of these children lying in their cribs, often with contorted emaciated bodies, and to be acutely aware of the quiet due to lack of verbalization, you can see that efforts are being made to change the way things are done in Bulgaria regarding these children. The facility I visited was a “campus” of three buildings, a lot of outdoor space in an enclosed compound on the far edge of a village outside a larger city. It was very clean, bright, and well staffed with both professionals and “helpers”. The children were clean, well dressed, and noticeably missing was the “institutional” smell, as we traveled from one room to another. It is clear, however, the caregivers think of their jobs as just that…”caregivers”. I could not help but think of the complaints I used to mentally lodge against the nursing homes where both Mike’s and my mothers lived out the end of their lives. Attendants would care for the physical needs of their charges, but attempts at engaging them seemed minimal. Perhaps it is a necessary outcome of institutional care.

The orphanage does have a “baba” program, which pairs children with a “baba” (grandmother) for several hours a day. They have their own playroom and are encouraged to interact physically with the children, engage them in play and in general stimulate them. For some “babas” it is an opportunity to chat with their friends, but to their credit, they were always holding a child when they did. These children may not be getting the directed intervention US educators would like to see, but they were getting more than those who did not have a “baba”. The “baba” culture here in BG (as in so many places including the US) is to “do for the child”, so independence is not encouraged, though many of the kids are capable of independence with directed skill building.

There is also a special wing of one building which houses a “day care center”. The group is small and most of the children who attend the day care program are actually residents of the orphanage. The funding for the creation of the center was from an EU grant or program, thus relatively new. It is currently under the budget of the orphanage. There is a different staff for this program and there was a more interactive environment here. It was closer to a special needs classroom in the states, but the intention to teach was not as strong.

The frustrations experienced by my friend revolve around knowing what can be done with these children, but working with people who can be openly hostile about change and the possibility that it could be different. Even the professionals….doctors and psychologist are not supportive. Some practices are so contrary to those of the U.S. it is extremely difficult to not get upset when seeing them. For example, in two of the buildings there were bedrooms with the most physically disabled kids who generally spend 22 hours a day in their cribs. We went into both of these rooms and there was not a staff member present. Perhaps the kids are checked on periodically, but there is not a constant vigil. They are also tucked furthest away from any activity, making it less likely someone will just “pop” in to see or talk to them. There was not music or radio to fill the space, and rarely was there anything on their cribs to look at. This seemed worse than solitary confinement in prison. Many of these children’s deformities have worsened because of being in these cribs for such prolonged periods of time. There is no muscle on their bones. Stripped they would look like the ads of the children in a campaign against starvation. Some have lived their fifteen years of life like this. We entered playrooms to find eight children on the floor unsupervised or with an adult sitting on a couch disengaged from the kids. Again, no music, no attempts to encourage language, very little physical contact. It was explained to me that children with epilepsy are the worst off because it is believed that if you touch them it will cause a seizure. They most often are the ones in the cribs.

The high point of my visit was to get a little guy sitting in a foam padded play space to giggle out loud. Just some tickling, talking, and floor play had him laughing. I had seen this child earlier in the day care and he was so serious and afraid. The care taker in the room where I played with him was sitting on a nearby seat just watching. The power of suggestion can be a strong one. I hope it left a mark here.

After three hours, we headed back to the city, took a lunch break and walked the 25 minutes to the day care center. Whereas there are about 80 residents at the orphanage, the center serves the needs of about 40 children. It is chartered to serve students 3-18 years. Some come for the whole day, others following a half day in the public school and still others just for services such as speech therapy. Again the facility was bright and clean, with plenty of space. The kids were divided between two floors or activity areas. The staff here was engaging and excited about the PCV’s work. Within the last six weeks she had had a major breakthrough with an autistic child she started a behavioral program with. I watched the videos the center recorded of her work and was so excited myself about the changes in this little boy in six weeks. No one believed it possible, but it is difficult to argue with reality. The videos will be a wonderful tool to use in discussions with the psychologist and doctor who were sure nothing could be done for this child.

In the back of my head since I arrived has been the thought that I would like to work in some way in an orphanage. Plovdiv has about five of them, though I have not been able to locate them. This summer will be the perfect time to get started. Even if I am simply a “baba”, I may be able to model and encourage some “new and unusual” ways of interacting with these special needs children. It is a challenge to be patient when there is so much work to be done.

LYNN

View of "Old Town and the fortress

Easter and the Black Sea

My spring break was a full 11 days long. This was a bit unusual because it combined the school break with the four day Easter weekend. The weather was not great, but it provided time to just decompress. I think as the days and tasks of living in a foreign country, working in an environment fundamentally different from one’s life experience and still “only getting by” with the language blend together, we loose track of the little stressors that do add up. As I spent hours just enjoying a novel and staring at the sea I could feel the tensions evaporating.

Mike had the four day weekend off, so we planned a trip to the Black Sea, “a must see” area of Bulgaria. We chose to stay in a small historical town, Sozopol, just south of Borgas one of the two large cities on the coast. It was absolutely wonderful.

The five hour train ride from Plovdiv to Borgas, like most train rides in Bulgaria was a visual delight. The deep rich earth of the freshly plowed fields contrasted with the adjacent bright green fields of winter wheat. The rolling hills were topped off with pom-poms of blossoming apple trees, and carpets of yellow wild flowers and forsythia carpeted the edges of the tracks. In the distance on both sides were the protective walls of the mountains. It is a mystery how and when the fields are turned as there are no farm houses every mile or two surrounded by colorful equipment, standing ready. Great distances would pass between the tiny villages struggling to survive while its residents live a life of decades past.

Cobblestoned streets and wooden Revival style homes.



Sozopol a thirty minute bus ride south of Borgas sits on the tip of a peninsula, jutting into the Black Sea. The tip forks and to the left is “the old town” and to the right is “new town”. The bus dropped us off on the isthmus connecting the two. Waiting were eager residents offering rooms in their homes. We agreed to take a look at one place offered by a cab driver who lived in the center of old town with his family. No pressure, just look and if we didn’t like it …that would be OK. Because his home was in “old town” we agreed to look. Old town is less than a mile wide and maybe two long, but packed into that space is a labyrinth of tiny cobbled streets with many houses from Bulgaria’s 19th century Revival Period. They have a distinct architectural style with a stone lower level and wooden upper level. Some of these old homes had the original wood siding and others had been beautifully and carefully restored. With stories and history lessons as we made our way the short distance through town we arrived at the guest house and were shown around. We decided to stay. Ramon then dropped us off at a restaurant on the sea for lunch.

LUNCH: The top balcony was a single table for two!

T We had a private little space with just one table for two overlooking the sea and facing a few small islands. We spent the rest of the afternoon just walking and exploring, catching it all in pictures before returning to our very typical Bulgarian guest room. While exploring we had checked out open restaurants and decided on one specializing in fish near the small harbor for dinner. We were the only diners sitting on what in season would be the outside patio, heated by a propane heater. With only one table to serve, the service exceeded the Bulgarian norm, when there is often one waitperson for the whole restaurant!

Saturday Morning had us out early with the intention of moving to a new location. There wasn’t anything in particular wrong with where we were, but with the sea within sight from so many places, and my soul longing to be reenergized by it, I really wanted to move.

We found a small hotel with a dining room, hanging on the cliff’s edge close the tip of the peninsula. It was perfect, with a corner couch in front of a large picture window with the bay and sea as the backdrop. Walks to “new town”, further exploration of the “old town” more picture taking and hours reading between visits to the dining room filled the rest of our stay.

On Saturday evening we joined residents and visitors outside the church for an Easter Vigil service. Our cab driver had told us about it so we had some understanding of what should happen. Throughout the day people were seen emerging from the church with tall thin candles, some with just a few, and others with handfuls of them. At the vigil, votive candles were brought forth from the church and circulated so all could light their own. For such a little place, the crowd felt large. Eventually Mike could see a cross bearer exit the church and make his way to the front of the crowd. The procession moved slowly, everyone trying to keep their candle lit. We later learned, the goal was to return home with the lit candle, to bring good fortune and blessings upon one’s home and family throughout the year. We made it back to the hotel with our candles still lit! Not sure if that counts, but we considered ourselves “successful”. What we could not see and did not experience was the tradition of walking around the church three times with the lit candles and the return to church for a service. Only a few devotees participated in these rituals.

The tone of the weekend changed drastically late Sunday afternoon when we left Sozopol behind and visited a fellow B25 in Borgas. Chris lives on the top floor of a Communist block with a view of the Romi/Turkish mahala where he works just below him.

As is always the case, the mahala was quite separate from the city proper. He has done a great job integrating into his “work community” shopping at their little stores, visiting their cafes and in general living with them. He, and as an extension, Mike and I were invited to dinner by a friend of Chris’, a Romi and his family. We were picked up and after checking with us that we felt comfortable going into the mahala, we were off to dinner. The Romi and Turks have their own prejudicial attitudes toward each other, but are often forced into living with each other. This particular mahala has invisible boundaries with Romi or Turkish sections and streets. In general the Romi are poorer than the Turks, and thus live in the worst part of the mahala. So off to the very back corner we went. There certainly was a sense of familiarity about it, as it became more and more difficult to navigate through the people that have no other outdoor space to go to other than the unpaved, rutted streets. Abandoned scrap cars are playscapes for children, and crates, metal scraps or “whatever” are benches for watching the world go by!.

Our host had a lovely family, two sons in the primary grades and the youngest a girl of kindergarten age. Their home had three rooms, with the “living room” doubling as the parents’ bedroom. The edge of the bed provided some seating and an assortment of other sitting stools were arranged around the table lower in height than our norm. Salads and a lamb and rice dish were the main course. Two additional roasted legs of lamb were also offered. People seemed to come and go throughout the meal: a son sent off to buy juice, a sister–in-law- stopping by to bring news of a funeral in another part of the country the next day, and a mother to meet the Americans. With antennae up, one tries to be sensitive to the work and effort that went into the meal, while watching to see how much everyone else is eating, knowing what an expense this was for the family. Trying to balance being appreciative while calculating how much to leave behind on the serving platters for future meals is never easy. I have no idea how we did. The special homemade Easter cookies were brought out which we know from our “cultural lessons” takes a lot of time and effort to prepare. Most Bulgarians now buy these Easter cookies. They were sweet with a hint of lemon. Without time to clean up, we rushed off to church.

This young couple (in their early 30s) are members of one of the Evangelical Churches that are taking root in the mahalas. There were about two hundred people of all ages in attendance. As guests we were quickly whisked to front row seats and asked to introduce ourselves at the beginning of the service. The building was a plain hall decorated with construction paper signs and artificial flowers. An electric keyboard was prominent front and center. The children opened the program with song and sayings, led by a woman that had “teacher” qualities about her. Their ages were from about 4 to 14. I was impressed as they sang a number of songs from memory and with heart. So often we hear that the Romi “don’t understand the Bulgarian language”. These children were clearly not having a problem with it as they sang and recited prayers all in Bulgarian. The children were well behaved. They were quiet and respectful, coming and going during the 2 ½ hour service. The women offered praise through song next, followed by a small group of four or five young men. I had the feeling there was something special and different about these young men from most in the mahala. Mike and Chris were brought up front to join the men. Mike’s uncertainty of what was to come next was evident on his face as Chris was asked to say a few words (in Bulgarain). Mike was spared and the singing began. With all the musical praise completed, the preacher took the podium. We could identify the general gist of the sermon, but always became anxious when reference was made to us. At the end, we were greeted by most members of the congregation with warm hearts and kind smiles. Certainly a different Easter, but not without spiritual significance.

LYNN

I Want His Job!!!

Many of you know Lynn and I enjoy traveling on the trains. We are not really sure why, but it must be because we can get up and walk around, and look out of the windows, and watch Bulgaria slip by. Of course there are the times when the trains will just stop in the middle of no-where, and we are told the engine is not working. After 30 minutes, we are off again. We are never sure what happened, but are glad to be moving again. Heat on the trains is another issue. It is either 95 degrees, or not turned on at all. On a recent trip on a warm spring day, it was so hot in the train car, that almost all of the riders had fallen asleep. It almost looked like some “poison” gas had been leaked into the train - - but it was just the heat combined with the rocking of the train car as it went through the mountains.

The trains in Bulgaria are either very old, or brand new and modern. The modern trains look like “bullet train wan-a-be’s”. You imagine the new ones could travel along at 100 mph. But, alas, they don’t go any faster than the very old trains. (Speed is based on the track technology – not on the age of the train.) There are many more of the old trains than the new ones. Although they have a first class and second class cars there is not much difference between them, and the heat problem does not make any class distinction.

One of the nice things about taking the train is that you get to see Bulgaria from where the tracks go, and not looking out of a car (or bus) window. The train rides through the Bulgarian mountains are really beautiful. There are narrow “alleys” carved though the rock, and then you quickly enter total darkness of a long tunnel, coming out into the bright sunlight and another spectacular view. All along these routes there are very small villages with little train stations. They are generally run by the station manager. Although, if many of you are thinking about the way transportation systems work in the US, you probably need to “re-adjust” your thinking when you are in Bulgaria. Every station has a least one cashier window. You can NOT purchase tickets one day early. In fact, you can often not purchase tickets until about 30 minutes before the train arrives. If you are getting a ticket on an “express train” (this is generally an oxymoron), they will assign seat numbers to you. The ticket agent will pull over a sheet of paper with all the seats in a car marked. They draw an X through a number, and hand write the seat number on your computer-printed ticket. I have yet to figure out how this system really works. I’m always expecting to find someone in my seat. However, except for the first time we used the train and did not realize the numbers meant something and sat in the wrong place, we have never found anyone in our seats. The village station manager job is very similar – from a manual process perspective. The station manager is the one person who is the cashier, ticket taker, platform sweeper, and he tells the train when everyone is out of the station and on the train. The train can only continue on when he raises “the Green flag”. In the US, we would have electronic communications, head sets, and microphones so the “all-important” station manager can easily talk to the conductors and engineers. But Bulgarians would ask why you need all those gadgets when a simple hand stick with a green (or red) circle will work just as well. Each station manager does the same thing. When the train is pulling in, they are on the platform in their uniform standing almost at attention. When the train stops, they turn and enter the station to check (or maybe announce) the train has arrived and everyone should be boarding. Then he comes back out, and looks up and down the platform checking to be sure everyone is on the train. At this point the job of station manager gets creative. Most station managers will bend their elbow at 90 degrees and twist their wrist so the green flag stick is pointed up. But there are other station managers who will stick their arm out straight from the shoulder, and cock their wrist so the flag stick is up. (This is similar to the roman emperors giving a thumbs-up during a gladiator event.) Then, there are a few more aggressive managers who flamboyantly stick their arm straight up with their flag stick held high for all to see similar to the black pride symbol during the sixties. As the train departs from the station, they lower their stick, turn abruptly, and walk back into the station to wait for the next train to arrive - - when they can repeat the process - - over and over and over again.

When I grow up, I think I want to be a Bulgarian Station Manager!

Mike

It is only a twelve mile drive to the village of Kochevo outside Plovdiv, but it was a step back in time of about 60 or more years. Yesterday we went to the burial of Krum’s father.

As with most new situations we find ourselves in, we knew little before we left. We did know that we should buy individual flowers in an even number. Odd numbers are for happy occasions. We were surprised when the shop lady would not wrap them as they usually do. They needed to remain loose. We weren’t sure why.

We raced with Ivan (Mike’s boss) to the village and were one of the last to arrive at the family home. Krum’s dad Yanko was being waked in the living room before burial. A quick hug with Krum, his wife and his brother and we were escorted into the living room to pay our respects. The small wooden coffin was open and lying atop the frail body were all the loose flowers. We added ours. We stepped back outside, spoke for a few minutes with a friend and with Krum’s mother. While we were doing this by the side door, the still open casket was being taken out the living room window, to the waiting hearse…..a red commercial type van with a hatch back. The coffin was slipped in, the water jugs of additional flowers and a wreath were tucked in next to it. Everyone gathered behind the van and waited a few minutes while the family ran around attending to last minute details…..finding a rope, putting things in bags, filling buckets with water and other things leaving us wondering why?

At last all were ready and the procession to the cemetery on the other side of town was lead by an Orthodox priest and a friend carrying a black hand made wooden cross with Yanko’s name and age sketched in white paint. The van with both the hatch and coffin still open followed next. The family and some friends walked through the muddy street immediately behind the van. Others retreated to a waiting bus or cars on the dry pavement for the short drive to the cemetery.

The coffin was maneuvered with difficulty through the snow and slop to the open grave site. It was laid to rest on the edge of the grave. Heaped high on the other side was the freshly dug dirt. Everyone gathered around for the service. There were blessing and prayers by the priest, an anointing with oil of Yanko’s hands and the symbolic placing of dirt onto the body. A eulogy was read by a friend. For the final farewell by the immediate family, each member came forward and cupped Yanko’s face in their hands. The final symbolic gesture of pouring a cup of ashes over Yanko by the priest was completed. A white sheet was drawn over his face, and a blanket brought up and wrapped around his body from within. This left him ready for the final resting. The cemetery crew came forward, the smaller of the two dropping down into the grave. The mysterious rope was thread under the front of the coffin. Still open it was lowered to rest. Two plastic bags, one larger than the other and a cloth bag from family members were added to the grave. I wondered if like the Egyptian pharos, he was being sent to the next life with things to treasure or help him on his way. At last the simply decorated lid was place over him. Uttering a last prayer, the priest threw a handful of dirt onto the casket. Everyone else did the same.

With dirty hands, we waited single file to partake in the ceremonial hand washing. Water from a plastic lev store bucket was poured over our cupped hands and dried on a bright blue bath towel. With clean hands, we broke off a piece of ritual bread to be eaten immediately. Next Krum and his brother Stefan distributed to each guest little plastic bags of goodies…… an apple, a roll, some candy bars and a little cup of a home-made dessert. We still must ask what the origin of this tradition is and if the items in the bag are symbolic or just goodies.

We were invited to return to the family home, a typical modest four room brick building with many out buildings including the toilet and a big yard with “things” piled deep along the back fence. Once again the priest invoked some prayers as we all stood with lit candles. We were at the edge of the group just outside the door listening to the prayers amongst the sounds of incessant dog barking throughout the neighborhood, crowing roosters and cackling hens in the back yard and the ping of melting snow dropping onto the piece of tin protecting the stoop.

With the extinguishing of the candles the service was complete. It was followed by a social gathering with food and spirits upstairs in the living/bedrooms. The table was set with foods we see often, as guests settled onto the edge of the beds or straight back chairs to celebrate Yanko’s life. We stayed just short of an hour as Ivan had to return to Plovdiv to teach a weekend class. It was still quiet when we left, everyone politely eating. Ivan said it would loosen up with the drinking of wine and Raikia and the smiles and laughter would follow. Surrounded with friends and family, Krum, his brother and mother would be able to laugh today, but tomorrow would bring back new sorrows.

Having gone through the death of my own mother just fifteen months ago, the contrasts were sharp, and yet the sorrows and loss was universally the same. Missing yesterday, was the quiet and attentive funeral director, taking care of all the little details, the shiny, pillowed coffin, the pictures and video remembrances, the music and the church service. Family and friends were dressed the same yesterday as they always are, ready for a day of work. Mike’s white shirt, tie and sports jacket were conspicuously different. Beneath the plain clothing though were lives filled with memories of Yanko as a husband, father, friend and co-worker.

Though it felt like we had traveled through a time warp, there was something grounding in the simplicity of what we saw yesterday. Our modern day practices of arranging and pre-paying for our own funeral services, have in some ways “sterilized” the process of closure after death. I’m not sure I would have changed anything about my mother’s funeral, for no matter what the rituals are; the loss and emptiness remain the same.

Dying in Bulgaria

This will be a different blog entry for me. No pictures - - no tongue in cheek comments. Probably more “stream of consciousness” and a lot less organized. But the subject is more important and more universal. We all do this - - but only do it once. We all die. But as I get older, I gradually begin to slowly understand how different that one-time event can be for each of us. And… how much your country, culture and government may impact it. You may be wondering what is prompting this blog. Actually it is several things wound together with a fuse which got lit yesterday afternoon. Krum’s father died yesterday at about 1:00pm. Krum is my counterpart. A counterpart is the person the Peace Corps picks to be your primary work partner while you are “in country”. It is kind of like an “arranged marriage”. And, like any marriage, some work well and others don’t. Mine is very good! In the past 10 months, Krum has become much more than just a colleague - - he is a friend. Krum is 29. His father was 55. His father had stomach cancer. He died two days after having his first surgery, which was only a few months after being diagnosed with the cancer. Krum never saw his father after he went into surgery. Two weeks ago, Krum found out he was going to be a father - - and his Dad would become a grandfather.I am blessed to be working with several amazing people here in Bulgaria. George is one of them. George is a college professor teaching business strategy. He knows almost everything about Bulgaria. He worked for a short time in America, and speaks excellent English. He was my primary partner working on this very large project we just finished. He is kind of like my “Yoda” over here. Just before Christmas, George found out his best friend had lung cancer. George knew this person since there were in kindergarten together. George made several trips to Sofia with his friend and his friends’ wife to try to get help. But, by mid-January the friend was in the hospital. And three weeks later he died. Like George, he was 48. Two weeks after that George got another call. His uncle had died. It was cancer - - again. And it happened quickly - - again. In the middle of all this, Lynn and I have had the opportunity to talk and learn about Bulgarian health care. During our conversation English class, we dedicated one entire night to health care. We have also had dinner with the Peace Corps doctor from Sofia. And, of course, there were several conversations with Krum during the past four months. This is probably where the blog will get even more confusing. I’m not sure I have all my facts and data correct. And I probably will not remember all of the quotes I have heard accurately. But I would like to try to share them with you. It seems to be commonly understood that medical procedures and health care here are not good. People do not pay much for it, but you also get what you pay for. This is one of the reasons if any Peace Corps volunteer needs surgery, we are generally flown out of country. It is also part of the reason Peace Corps Bulgaria has two full time doctors to service 120 volunteers. And, it is why (as I write this) I am on a 2.5 hour train ride to see a dentist and get my teeth cleaned. Bulgaria has a rapidly aging population. Outside of a few large cities, most villages have few young people. These villages are literally growing older and dying along with their aging inhabitants. As you travel in Bulgaria, you can find lots of hospitals. Most of them are small communist block buildings which are not recognizable as hospitals. There are no large emergency room entrances where ambulances rush in with sirens wailing. In fact, Lynn and I have only seen two or three screaming ambulances in the past ten months. I have been told the hospitals are darker and drabber places than hospitals at home. Two weeks ago, Krum was trying to explain this to me. He jokingly said that hospitals in Bulgaria should have a slogan like “ARE YOU SICK? LET US ASSIST YOU IN DYING”. Today that quote has a bitter sting and seems so hollow. During our conversational English class on health care similar themes were discussed. The Bulgarian government does not provide much money for health care, and very few guidelines or rules. One of the people in the class felt it was part of a governmental “grand plan”. “If you don’t develop a sophisticated health system, people just get sick and quickly die. It keeps the costs down.” He was not joking. He believed it!Shortly after that class we had dinner with the Peace Corps doctor. She explained that since Bulgaria had become part of the European Union in 2007, the EU requires higher standards for many things. This includes health care. But Bulgaria can not meet those standards without more money which it does not have. So… the Bulgarian solution is to close 150 hospitals rather than upgrading them. Almost all of these hospitals are in the rural areas of the country, where the villages are filled with those same mostly old people. Now those village people may have to travel 60 to 120 miles to get to a hospital and health care. But, most of these people do not have cars, and many have problems walking to the local grocery store. So… every emergency will be too late and many will have the same deadly result. All of this brings me back to home - - to America. Now I don’t want to make any political statements, or get into a debate. But I do know that health care is the big issue home. However, sometimes I wonder if we can truly make decisions or have respectful debates without experiencing something dramatically different. And – at the same time – I know some folks following this blog are very sick, or have spouses and loved ones who are struggling with serious illness. I think the operative word is “struggling”. In America we can struggle with sickness. We have the infrastructure to fight! If we are sick, we can get quality help and we can beat it. What ever – IT – is! I have always taken that hope for granted. It is just there! In America, you may decide NOT to fight. But it is your choice! Not something made for you. I wish I had some brilliant conclusion to all these ramblings - - but I don’t. They are just part of the complex patterns and puzzles of life. Just a glimpse of life - - and death – from another perspective – and another part of the world.

Thanks for reading. Mike

BABA MARTA DAY: In Bulgaria, "mart" is the word for March and "baba" means grandma. In old folklore "Baba Marta" was portrayed as a volatile and moody woman. It is believed that when she was happy, skies were blue and the sun would shine, but when Baba Marta was disgruntled, she would bring rain and wind to the country.

We have heard that Baba Marta Day is a uniquely Bulgarian holiday and under this name that is true. There are however, other countries in the region which have a spring celebration on the first of March with traditions that are close in nature to ours, but celebrated with a different name.

THE TALE: The celebration has its roots in ancient Bulgarian history. There are a variety of tales to explain the celebration but one is that this ritual honors Mars, the god of war and spring. Bulgarians have had a troublesome and war-weary history and it is said that conflicts often started at the beginning of March. As warriors left their wives to go to fight, women gave their husbands red and white strips of cloth to tie round their wrists. Some gave small woolen figures of a girl and a boy. The colors represented the blood of the warriors and the pale faces of the women they were leaving behind.

MARTENITSI:On March 1, Bulgarians give martenitsi to their family, friends and neighbors. This may be in the form of a simple bracelet of entwined red and white wool or a brooch of red and white wool tassels. Front doors are decorated with enormous red and white pompoms or with woolen dolls called "Pizho and Penda". Pizho is the male doll and is usually crafted from white wool. Penda is the female, red doll and is distinguished by her skirt. Animals are also adorned with their own special martenitsa. Young people and teachers, in particular, can be seen with a wrist full of red and white bracelets.

Some say that the red and white are the colors of Mother Nature. The white wool represents the melting snow and the red twine represents the setting sun, which becomes more and more intense as spring advances. Others say that the white symbolizes man and the red woman, or that they represent purity and life or health and strength. When you receive a martenitsa, you must wear it until you see a stork or the first buds of a fruit tree, for they symbolize the true arrival of spring. There are also a number of things you might do with it once you remove it and that seems to be regionally dependent. Here in our region, they are removed (sometimes a whole arms length of them) and hung on the budding tree, while making a wish.

TODAY:School children sing songs to Baba Marta throughout the month of March and some still make their own martenitsi, but most purchase them from street vendors and the holiday has become far more commercialized. Today’s martenitsi may incorporate fancy beads and popular characters like Spiderman or Barbie. The sidewalks are lined with vendors all selling virtually the same merchandize. It is hard to imagine how each of them can make any money, but they apparently do. It is clear that when the holiday passes, the merchandize is packed up, stored and brought out again one year from now.

Almost the Same…. In the Midst of Change - - Flashback to a Previous Life.

During the last couple of weeks, I have been hit with several “flashback” to my previous “corporate” life - - but always with a twist. This past week, the NGO I work with has been exhibiting in at very large agricultural trade show. It happens that the exhibition center is just across the river from our office, so it makes it easy (and very inexpensive) for us to have a small booth at the show. My NGO works with Roma and other disadvantaged minorities helping them to build small farms. Because of that, they represent small farmers, and lobby for their welfare. We also had a half day seminar for local government officials explaining the plight of the small farmers we work with.

So…. During the week, I found myself helping to set up the booth, checking to make sure there was enough literature in the stand, stuffing packages for the seminar, and helping out at the booth a little. Actually it was very little, because my Bulgarian is not quite good enough to explain the intricacies of planting peppers, or taking care of vineyards, or making sure bees have enough flowers to make great honey.

But it seemed almost the same - - well almost! Instead of large booths filled with sophisticated computer, or network, or safety equipment, we have a very small booth filled with small booklets which we sell for 2.00 Leva each ( about $1.40). And instead of other large competitor’s booths nearby blaring their messages over loudspeakers, I had a few head of sheep bleating from a booth in one direction, and rooster crowing from a booth in another direction. There were also rabbits nearby, - - but they were quiet.

The show was really quite large, with companies from all over Europe attending, and as you can see from the pictures there were a lot of attendees. But thankfully, we only do this once per year. So this is it - - until next February. And then, I hope I may be able to actually help out in the booth.

As if attending an international trade show was not strange enough, the week before that I had another “flashback”. All of the 3Mers reading this blog will appreciate the irony of this next one. I was asked (along with Lynn and a few other volunteers) to attend a meeting of the Peace Corps Bulgarian staff to help with their STRATEGIC PLAN! Yes – strategic planning seems to be everywhere - - even in the Peace Corps.

After having gone through as many plans and “annual agony” strategy sessions, I actually was looking forward to this two day meeting to see how others would do it. There were some things which were the same, but mostly it was very different. Here are some of the differences.

This plan was completed and sent to Washington in just THREE WEEKS! Our budget INCREASED. This is the first administration in decades that has actually put money where its mouth is – They support the Peace Corps, and showed it with more than words. We were told to develop a plan to double (if possible) the number of volunteers in three years. We were told to expect continued increases in budgets. The budget discussion took about 90 minutes! There were no large excel files. There was one sheet of flip chart paper with three lines on it creating three spaces – one space for each year. I found myself having excel withdrawal pains. I wanted to grab my laptop, and run to the front, and show them how chart budget trends, employ pivot tables, and sync multiple worksheets. But in the end…. I sat on my hands (well most of the time), and tried to ask probing questions about space, equipment, transportation, training, and skill sets. It really was a lot of fun! The Bulgarian PC staff is an awesome group of people. I have said that before. There are only three Americans on staff, and they represent most of the “senior” staff. So… those three people have taken all the inputs, thoughts and ideas from our meetings; and in 15 working days developed the final 13 page plan. It will be sent out to DC March 1.

OK – I know we are lots smaller than any of the companies, or divisions I have worked for. But I found the process fascinating, and learned a lot while doing it.

So… that has been my life for the past couple of weeks. The more things change … sometimes the more they stay the same. Who knows what I will be doing in the next few weeks. But what ever it is, my guess is that it will be interesting. Mike.

Beauty and The Mess!!!

As many of you may know, I have always been a “weather geek”. Since we have been in Bulgaria, I have been surprised at how the weather in America is sometimes mirrored here in Bulgaria (or nearby in Europe). Such has been the case for the past week in Bulgaria. Yes – Philly and DC have gotten more historic snowfalls, but it has been snowing for days here in Bulgaria. It has even - - finally - - snowed in Plovdiv.

Plovdiv got about a foot of snow between last Saturday and Monday, and then it got another 5 inches on Wednesday. It was really pretty on Monday. Both storms were a heavy wet snow, and it clung to the tree limbs, wires, and anything else. Most of the main streets were clear and wet, but all of the side streets were untouched by plows. You could hear spinning car tires everywhere. Other than those sounds, it was very quiet. The air was almost “heavy” with the snow falling. It was really nice. Lynn had school, but I was able work from the house. However, I did go out at lunch to get some pictures and see what was happening.

While Plovdiv was getting many inches of snow, the villages in the mountains were getting several feet of snow! But the city is not any better to handle the inches they got, than the villages are to take care of the feet of snow they have gotten. Things were not too bad after the first storm. But they went downhill fast after the Wednesday storm.

First the added snow just turned to ice on the side streets. Actually, it appears that Plovdiv does a good job on the main roads, but takes a more “Southern” approach to clearing the side streets. They don’t plow at all! They just wait for the sun to melt the snow. But when the sun is not really out much, the melting takes a long time. When the warmer (in the 30’s) temps arrive, they do start to melt the snow very slowly. As that is happening, everything turns to slush, and large puddles (or small lakes) appear everywhere. Walking becomes even more of a challenge than it is usually. The sidewalks are impassable. The streets are like cow paths, and you have to play “dodge-em” with any cars that are trying to move on the side streets.

Lynn and I have decided to just stay in for a few days till the snow does finally melt. That assumes there is no more snow, and the temps stay above freezing. In the meantime, the pictures give you an idea of what happens here when it snows. Although the snow is not as deep as the mid-Atlantic region at home, the impact is the same.

Mike

I’m sitting on a train waiting to return to Plovidv. There are about 15 minutes before departure, but sitting in a warm comfortable train sure beats the cold hard bench in the dreary little train station.

My view from the window is of kids, adults and dogs romping in last night’s snowfall. The consistency….perfect for snowballs, snowmen and snow forts. This group has put together a fort, probably about 3-4 feet high, in an open area across from the station. Behind it a street parallels the tracks. They have globbed together and shaped the fort to look like a giant meatball with an entrance resembling a bear’s den. The opening is just the right size for kids and dogs……no adults allowed. The German Shepherds are racing around, distracted from each other only briefly when a snowball comes their way.

Earlier in the day as we walked through one of the many beautiful parks in Hissar, we stopped to watch two families sledding and making a snowman. I smiled at the sight of the sled with the metal runners. I don’t think I’ve seen one of those since my own childhood. The snowman was “man” size.

It is moments in time like this that help highlight the similarities between Americans and Bulgarians. To me these scenes were about family and the importance family plays in the lives of people from both countries. I could easily have been back home watching this very same scenario in New Hampshire, Wisconsin, Philadelphia or even the nation’s capital.

Lynn

The Heat Pump Is Blowing Cold Air!!

Three weeks ago Lynn and I did a blog on “Staying Warm”. We ended that blog by saying that Mother Nature had been very good to Bulgaria so far this winter because it had been unseasonably warm. We never should have said that! Within a couple days of posting the blog, all of Bulgaria settled into one of the worst cold spells in a decade. But – like with so many other things here – we learned several new things. First – we have a new Climatique (a heat pump). Most of the new (and upgraded) apartments have these. They are great. They take the heat from the outside, amplify it, and blow it into your home. In the summer, they reverse the process, and they are air conditioners. However, if the outside air is very very cold (down around 0) and dry, then they can freeze up, or just not work correctly. Every so often ours would make “grinding sounds”, and would blow cool/cold air. Once we even saw it blowing a white mist into the room. Thankfully this did not happen often. Second – Small 20 dollar space heaters are awesome! Lynn bought one of these in December. It was on sale, and seemed like a good idea. Actually – it was a great idea! When the big system was blowing cold air, we carried this little “turbo heater” into the room, and it warmed things up. We also used it in our bed room (which does not have heat) to keep it warmer during the night. Third – Bathrooms in Bulgaria are NOT heated. Most bathrooms are in the center of the building, and have a water tank heater in the room. Since the bathroom doubles as a shower stall, the idea is to just take a shower to heat up the room. But if you want to use the bathroom for other things early in the morning, or in the middle of the night; it can be awfully cold. I also found out that many folks in Bulgaria just don’t clean up much in very cold weather. Fourth – those big communist marble buildings that do not have any central air conditioning in the summer don’t have any heat in the winter. There is one big university cafeteria that we visit often. There is no heat in the building. Everyone eats with their coats on! Since the food gets cold pretty quick, we only went there once this month. Last – if you spend most of the day with your shoulders “crunched” up around your ears, your shoulder muscles tend to get pretty sore by the end of the day. Thankfully, we figured that out quickly, and stopped doing it. All of these things were really very minor. We know there are many folks home in the US who have been colder than we were this month. We were really in very good shape. We were warm most of the time with very little change to our routines and life. However, we know that was not the case for many other volunteers. We talked to one volunteer who is living in the mountains south of us, and his water pipes had frozen five days before. He had no water, and was not sure how to fix them. Others were living in sleeping bags much of the time. If you want to get a real sense of what life is like for most volunteers here during the winter check out this blog entry. http://vanceandvickie.wordpress.com/2010/01/26/living-in-long-underwear/ Lynn was seeing many of the people in the mahala getting bags of coal from horse-drawn carts that constantly went around the streets. I was working in a new site with a large wooded area across the street. There were people over there all the time looking for dead pieces of wood they could take out. In the last two days, the weather has gotten more normal, and the ice is melting. And the heat pump is working correctly again! We hope the real cold is done for the winter, but this time, I don’t think we will say that. February is still winter – even in Bulgaria!Mike

It’s winter, and it’s cold here. Not Wisconsin cold, but cold .In the city of Plovdiv, we see things that we only thought we would see if we had been in a village. Smoke is one of those things. Smoke is everywhere around us. You can smell it the minute you walk out of our building. You can see it hanging like a deep white haze every day. And it is spewing from small chimneys on the roofs of homes like it was coming from the furnaces of communist’s factories. The smoke is a symbol of the work which is put forth to try to keep warm – even in the cities.

For decades Mike, and I and in time Shawn and Scott had rituals and routines tied to the seasons for the downing, transporting, splitting, stacking and finally the burning of wood to stay warm through the cold winter months of the Northeast. This year"s work was for next year"s heat, giving the wood time to age. It all started when we moved into our first house in Ashland, Ma.,( a little 800 sq ft ranch) and ended when we went south to Texas 23 years later. In a tiny room at the end of the that first house was a Ben Franklin stove which we burned so hot at times it would glow orange.. It is a wonder we didn’t burn the house down! As we upgraded houses though, the wood stoves improved incrementally as well. It was always a good feeling when we saw the three or four cords of wood stacked in the garage ready to burn.

All those experiences swirl in our heads as we watch the many ways in which Bulgarians go about trying to stay warm through the winter. The possibilities range from a central heating systems, to the burning of a variety of materials in stoves to most recently electric “climatiques” which double as air conditioners in summer.They are usually good for heating one room.

During the summer in Varshets we watched as truckloads of wood would be delivered to the front walk of many a household. The work, so familiar to us of splitting and stacking began. My host family had a central heating system and burned wood chips. They too had a truckload delivered out in front of the house, which was then carted by wheel barrel or bucket to a holding bin, much like a coal bin on the basement level of the New England house I grew up in .

So often, Plovdiv feels much like a large village as the activities here mimic the villages. In the fall neighbors had coal delivered to the front yard and worked for days bagging it and hauling it to the basement. The little balconies of little bloc apartments became storage areas for little piles of wood. The “thunk, thunk, of the ax slicing through rounds of trees could be heard coming from hidden backyards, or front sidewalks as families prepared for winter’s cold.

Nothing made from wood is simply discarded. As apartments are upgraded, from old wood framed single paned windows and doors to new double-paned air-tight ones, the old are stored in the back yard to be used as needed or left beside the trash bins for someone else to quickly rescue and transport home. Often it is either the elderly or the Romi, who travel about on their bicycles outfitted with large plastic milk cartons strapped over the rear wheel or with baby carriages converted to wagons that salvage them.

As I travel through Stalipinovo (the mahala where I work) men, women, and children of all ages are participating in some way in the “heating process”. Young boys are sent to buy a bag of coal from a street vendor, hoist it on their shoulder and start climbing the two to eight flights of stairs, to bring it home. Little, little children are responsible for picking up the smallest pieces of wood for kindling on the site where it was split by someone three times their size. Wood splitting is rarely rounds of trees. Usually it will be a shipping palette, pressed board scraps, or broken furniture from construction or renovation sites. One day I stopped to help an elderly woman struggling with three plastic bags full of wet punk wood she was trying to bring home. As I approached her from the back I could see she was having a hard time managing the ripping bags and the weight of the wood as she stopped every few yards to rearrange her load. Together we managed to get them closer to her home, but I couldn’t help but think of how little heat they would provide for such a great effort. She could not afford the luxury of “seasoned wood”.

Staying warm may also be the result of reducing the size of your living space considerably. Many families, particularly in the larger village homes stay in one or two rooms for the winter, relying primarily on the cook or wood stove for heat. Day beds are part of the furniture (even in the kitchen) year round, but take on a new life as the kitchen becomes the bedroom when night falls in winter. Adding a plaster exterior to the old brick homes helps as well as those new windows and doors, but that requires an income stream larger than the pensions of the elderly.

We are very fortunate. We have a climatique, air tight windows,and insulated walls. Not a draft can be felt. We know how fortunate we are and we are thankful for this good fortune. Many volunteers like many Bulgarians struggle daily to stay warm. If they are totally dependent on a wood burning stove, it may be hours after arriving home before they begin to feel warm. If they are in an old building which "leaks air" like a punctured air mattress, they are fighting a loosing battle to be warm. Mother nature has been kind to Bulgaria this winter,even to those fighting the battle to stay warm,. It has been unusually mild. We can only hope it will continue that way for another month or two.

Lynn & Mike

What's In The Bag???

Lynn and I have almost gotten comfortable trying to do just about anything. We still get “goofed-up” or terribly miss-understood, but it is happening less and less often. But it still happens. The big difference is that now we do more laughing (along with our colleagues) about what has happened. Following is an example of one of these events.

Lynn and I enjoy going to the grocery store together. Lynn often needs some help carrying back food, and we still have fun trying to figure out what some things are on the shelf. There is also the large “Bazaar” for most of the block before the grocery store with 20-plus booths filled with vegetables, honey, wine, etc. We both enjoy getting fresh food at these booths.

Since the weather is colder, we are finding we are spending more time cooking up soups, stews, etc. than we did in the summer. Lynn is still the “master Chef” in the kitchen, but there is always lots of cutting, pealing, chopping and stirring for me to do. We enjoy working together to see what we can create in the kitchen.

For the past couple of weeks, we have been craving some good “old-fashioned” chili. We can’t get any beef for chili meat, but there are other meats we can substitute. In addition, there are plenty of hot spices and hot peppers here that we can work with to make a good chili. We decided that we wanted to make the chili with a base of beans. We wanted red kidney beans. We had already made a simple white bean soup in December, and we have made lots of other bean soups in the past. As we walked along the bazaar, you could see the plastic bags with the white beans next to the bags with the larger red beans. We just had to find out how much the red beans cost, and how much the bag weighed. The first couple of booths had bags with more than we needed. We found a vendor with the right size bag, and bought it.

When we got home, we got a large bowl of hot water and put all the beans into the bowl to soak overnight. On Sunday morning, we got up and started making all parts of the chili. Meat was cut and browned, onions, spices, tomatoes, etc. were cooked up. The beans still seemed a little “crunchy” to us, but we put them in with everything else, and had this very large pot filled with a rather good tasting chili. We knew the crunchy beans would soften up as they cooked for the next several hours.

We had our chili Sunday night. It was good, but the beans were still crunchy. We also noticed that some of the beans seemed to have split exactly in half. But, the chili was still good. We had enough for two other meals. One for Tuesday after our evening conversational English class, and the other we froze.

Tuesday’s chili still had those crunchy beans. This just was not making any sense to Lynn and I. We started “poking” around more in the chili. Many beans had split in half. They no longer had the red color, but were white. The red color seemed to be a thin film that cooked (or slipped) away. And… they were still crunchy. They never got soft. We looked at each other – and at the chili, and asked “Are they PEANUTS?” That did not make sense. We had never heard of peanuts being sold in the bazaar. They were in bags next to the white beans we had cooked before. But they were not red beans like we were used to, and they did taste a little like peanuts.

So… I started asking about peanuts at work. Sure enough - - Those red bean-looking things in the plastic bags are peanuts. A couple of my colleagues wanted to try our “peanut chili”, and kept asking if this was a special “American meal”? It is not!

But we still have one more meal waiting for us in the freezer, and maybe those peanuts will get soft! I doubt it! Actually, the peanut chili is not all that bad. However, I don’t think we will make it that way again.

So… just when you think you are getting adjusted to life here, you buy peanuts when you thought they were beans!! Keep laughing.

Mike.

Sell No Wine Before Its Time - - NOT in Bulgaria!!

Like so many other simple things in Bulgaria, buying wine here is almost like entering into another dimension. YES – you can buy bottles of wine in the larger grocery stores, small neighborhood stores, and smaller kiosks along the streets. But, I’m not sure how many people (other than me for the first few months I was here) purchase it that way.

In Bulgaria, grapes are literally everywhere. If you have a house (in a village, or in a city) you will have grape vines covering your car, back yard, or walkway. In addition, there are large vineyards scattered around the country on the lower slopes of the many mountains in the north or south of the country.

This year was very wet, and produced a “bumper crop” of grapes. Grape prices plummeted, but wine production went up. So… where is all the wine? Almost every house makes their own wine. Most of it is a deep red wine, but there are also some white wines. At Christmas, name days, and holidays, the homemade wine will be served. But, it actually appears before that, and throughout the cool months. And like the grapes, it is everywhere.

The vineyards are south of Plovdiv. If you are driving on the roads in this area, you will find many places where there are cars pulled off the side of the road, with bottles on the hood of the car. Just stop, and buy it. When you go into the larger barzars, you will always find some of the vendors selling homemade wine. I’m not sure where they get the wine, but it must be local.

Buying wine at first can be slightly daunting. But where alcohol is concerned most men will overcome any fears to get it. These wines are not like the legendary Paul Masson wines that “will not be sold before their time”. The grapes are harvested in September and October. I was told to wait (at least) till the end of November to purchase homemade wine. Also, the homemade wine is not packaged in corked bottles. You simply take a plastic 2 liter water (or beer) bottle, and “fill-er-up”. When I first saw these, I thought they were selling coke. The bottles were the same size, and it was a dark red wine. I’m glad I took a second glance to figure it out!

If you don’t want to purchase wine from a car hood, or at the bazaar, you might be able to get it from the 10 gallon plastic casks outside of some of the small neighborhood stores. They sell it by the liter (and I think they supply the empty plastic bottles). You can get white, red, or merlot! “Step right up – and have a taste”!

Since buying wine this way is a step down (well – maybe a couple of steps) from a screw cap bottle or even a box wine, you have to be careful about what you buy. My first couple of liters was purchased from a bazaar booth, and the bottom of the plastic bottle had a “sludge” coating. I can’t really say it was very good - - but it did not cost much!

But, in the past couple of months, I have learned more and gotten a bit more sophisticated (if that is possible). So… here is the short story (with pictures) of my Christmas wine buying trip. My NGO helps and support small farmers in the Plovdiv Region. Some of these folks have vineyards. Because of that, we have an “inside track” on where some of the best homemade wines can be found.

On December 23rd, we traveled southwest to a small town to purchase the wine. We had called before, and gotten the price, and placed an order. There were three of us going. We were purchasing 50 Liters of wine! (We wanted to be sure there would be wine for the holidays!).

So… where would you go to buy the wine? By the side of the road – to a local farm – to a small bazaar - - - NO you go to the local high school. It happens that the father of director of the one high school in town is the best winemaker in the area. We go into the director’s office, and there is a small coke bottle with red wine to test. It is very good! We pull out our cash, and pay.

Then there is a call made, and we leave the school to go to the road where our car is parked. Soon, another car pulls up behind ours, and the transfer is made. (Are you picking up on the similarities of this transaction, and purchasing “contraband” in other countries.)

By the way, as you can see from the pictures, we have moved up in the scale of purchasing wine. None of the “little 2 liter bottles for us”! We purchase it in 5 liter bottles – with a bigger yellow screw cap! We shake hands, wish everyone a Merry Christmas (with all this wine, it should be merry), and head home.

I was not sure how all this would really work. Our fridge can not hold 5 liter bottles. But since it is winter, you just leave the big bottles on the balcony. We purchased a 40 cent funnel, and transferred the wine to smaller bottles in order to pour into a glass. Possibly most surprising, was that the wine was really good. Today is January 9, and I will finish off my 10 liters today. Thankfully, I had some help during the holidays to drink it. But we will have to make plans for “second run” to the village soon.

In the meantime, I will go back to the grocery store and buying wine there. But when I’m drinking the store bought wine, I will be thinking about the next batch of 5 liter bottles.

Have a healthy heart and Stay warm – have a glass of warm red wine!

Mike

Oh – if you would like to read a review of the “Beers of Bulgaria” check out this link. Brian is another Peace Corps volunteer, and he did an “exhaustive” study for his blog. http://windowtobulgaria.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_29.html

While Shepherd’s Watched Their Flocks…..

Merry Christmas from Bulgaria!!

Bulgaria’s contrasts constantly amaze Lynn and I. Shepherds watching their flocks were one of those surprises. When my host family told me they had sheep, but they were grazing in one of the mountain pastures, I pictured a large fenced in field. Then as we were driving around, I started noticing men standing in fields with long sticks in their hands. At first, I did not understand what they were doing. But then I realized that whenever I saw these solitary figures in the pastures or on the slopes, there were always sheep nearby. They were shepherds! They would be with their flocks rain or shine, day and night. The Shepherds could be very old or middle aged. Even in the heat of summer, they always seemed to be colorfully dressed. And… they all carried a staff!

As I hiked around our training site, I would come upon shepherds in fields with spectacular views of the mountains as their constant companion. I became awed by these lonely people. I found the phrase from the Christmas carol sung during midnight mass running through my head… “While Shepherd’s watched their flocks by night”. As I watched them watching their flocks, I realized what they were doing had not changed much in 2,000 years since that first Christmas.

Over our short time here in Bulgaria, these shepherds have become one of my symbol for the old traditional parts of this wonderful (and confusing) country. And with Christmas just days away, we thought it would be appropriate to show you who the angel called to visit the manger that night 2000 years ago.

And like those first shepherds, we don’t have gifts to give. However, we can share some of the things we have learned in our short seven months here. Hopefully, one of our insights will make you smile, cause you to reflect, or nudge you to appreciate what you have even more.

Things we have learned:

It seems to rain more often when you always have to walk in it.

Kids are kids – everywhere

Walking is wonderful – you get great exercise, you are outdoors, you see more things, and most importantly – it slows you down.

Reducing the size of your plate reduces the size of your waist!

Buses – are great for teaching you patience because you have to wait for them.

Americans have no idea how lucky they really are

People are highly adaptable (peace corps volunteers everywhere prove that every day).

Shared values create bonds of friendship no matter where you are.

TV really is worthless – particularly when everything is in another language.

Even in a large group of people, you can be very lonely

Culture is so much more than food and customs - - it’s a very different way of thinking!

The things you miss the most are the things you thought about least

Two hour dinners help build strong families, and good friends

Life is a constant challenge – it’s your approach that makes the difference.

Stepping out of your comfort zone opens a world of possibilities

It is easy to set priorities when you have nothing!

How easy it is to be so happy with so little!

Never -- never give up on your dreams!

It is amazing how much a strong love can grow even stronger!

Have a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Весела Коледа и Честита Нова Година

Lynn and Mike – in Bulgaria

Now that I have gotten your attention with the picture and the “catchy” title of this blog, I will explain something that no one in the Peace Corps fully explained until we got here!

The photo at the beginning of this blog is a picture of the toilet at our training center during the first ten weeks we were here. It is called a “Turkish toilet”. I assume it is called that because during the 500 years of Turkish rule, this is what Bulgarians used! By the way, this is a “co-ed” bathroom.

So.. for a guy taking a “leak”, this is not a problem. But ladies must squat – no matter what! Our training center toilet was actually comparatively clean. However, it was not without some problems. Our training building had two floors. The second floor bathroom was directly over the one we used on the first floor. If you were using the first floor bath, and someone flushed (yes – you can flush them) upstairs, the pipes would leak and droplets would start dripping on you. When the drops started falling, you would always speed up (or try to stop) whatever you were doing. It only took a couple of days for all the ladies in the training group to only use the second floor toilet.

One other thing about the first picture is important. You will notice there is a small wastebasket near “the hole”. There is generally nothing unusual about having a wastebasket in the bathroom. But ALL of the toilets (Turkish or Western) have a small waste canister near them. In Bulgaria toilet paper is NEVER put into the toilet! You wipe yourself—stop the automatic reflex to drop it into the toilet, pull the paper out, and put into the convenient, nearby waste container. I really don’t know why! I have not asked! I just do it - - because that is what everyone does in Bulgaria!

Although all of the public toilets in Bulgaria are Turkish, many homes have western style toilets. Following is a picture of the toilet in our home. It is probably more recognizable.

Some of you may be wondering where the shower (and curtain) is located. Well – the entire bathroom also doubles as the shower. We close the bathroom door and turn on the shower. There is a drain in the center of the floor. Although it is a little inconvenient, ( you have to mop the floor after a shower, and the floor may be wet for several hours after a shower), it is really a very efficient system. But, it is very different from the large, plush, multiple bathrooms found in US homes. In Bulgaria, functionality trumps pampering, pleasure, special features, and large baths.

Following are some photos of the men's bathroom in my office building.

Notice the plumping (or lack of it) in all the sinks.

The urinals are not functional. Except for one pipe that perpetually drips water onto the floor. It is kind of like an eternal flame, but this is a perpetual drip. I’m really not sure when it gets cleaned, but it is at least once per month.

The door is off the hinges, and there is a broken window next to the door (this helps keep the room cool in the winter, and allows “fresh” air to constantly flow in).

Early in November, the fire department inspected our building. Trash and the piles of papers which were in the empty offices were tossed out. My bathroom got a new door - - with a lock! A couple of days later, they locked the door, and put a “CLOSED” sign on the door!

Lynn’s situation is similar. There are 25 teachers, and approximately 500 kids (grades K-4) in the building. The teachers share the Turkish toilets with the kids.

Using Turkish toilets can force some “behavioral” changes. First you have to strengthen your quad muscles in order to use the toilets. Second – there is an art to doing this without soiling your clothes (I have not figured this out yet!). Third – you try to be much more “regular” so you use them as little as possible. Fourth – you have to be very careful about what is in your pockets. Each year several volunteers have their cell phones, wallets, money, or ID’s eaten by the “terrible Turkish toilet”. Fifth – After a short time in Bulgaria, everyone is more comfortable talking about things like this.

All of this quickly blurs into the daily fabric of life in Bulgaria. Soon you are not even noticing the toilet - - - until your cell phone slips into “the hole”!

Mike

It has been slow arriving, but winter is here. It is cold, grey and wet. It means a change into the heavier jackets to stay warm, boots for navigating the wet muddy streets, waits for the bus that feel much longer than usual and the challenge of doing laundry!

Doing one load of laundry can be a multi day affair. The process begins by listening to the weather report and checking my work schedule looking for a “window of opportunity”. I need a minimum of 2 hours free time before leaving for school to wash and hang a load of clothes (the quickest wash cycle is 90 min.). Having that free time in the morning on a clear day is becoming a challenge. Yes, the clothes are hung under the cover of the balcony, but if there is moisture in the air or winds driving a rain, it can take days for everything to dry. The other option is to turn the apartment into a Chinese laundry and drape clothes throughout. Mike recently rescued a drying rack from the curb and that helps.

Last night, when we got home at 10:30, with a stripped down bed waiting for us, I went to the balcony to pull in the sheets. Hmmm! Dry or not dry? I think they are dry but oh are they cold. Spread out two chairs and hope that draping them for an hour in the heated apartment will finish them off! Yes! It did the trick.

Hanging clothes in the cold winter air, and cascading that sheet over the backs of two chairs pulled from the depths of memory images of either my mother or I on our knees reaching out a second floor window pulling in clothes off the pulley line that were stiff with cold. “Tents” I exclaimed to Mike as the last edge of the extra large sheet covered the chair. I have many fond memories of nesting under the dining room table, chairs and anything else that would support a blanket on rainy days when my brothers and I would be trapped indoors for days. At times the living room and dining room became a maze between “forts” if the four of us decided to each have our own space. Bless my mother and her patience!!

Ah! So the clothes are washed and dried. Some are finished in 16 hours; others will go the full 24. But what about the ironing? I have found a towel on the kitchen counter works just fine! Yes they have ironing boards in Bulgaria, but they are relatively expensive and it will just be one more thing to try to find a hiding place for. We have no closets and only two doors to hide things behind. Both are quite full already. So I will stick to the countertop and manage quite well.

As challenging as this may seem, my heart goes out to the volunteers who do not have a washer, and must do all their laundry by hand. Some do not have balconies, thus the drying rack in their (sometimes one room) apartment is their only alternative. Obviously it is not only volunteers in this situation. There are still some Bulgarian households who face the same challenges, but for them, they have been doing it for a lifetime.

Needless to say, we think twice before declaring an item “ready to be washed”!!!

Lynn

Feb. 22, 2009

At last our invitations arrived in the mail on Tuesday Feb 17. We knew it was coming as we had talked to the placement officer for Eastern Europe on Thursday Feb. 12 and were informed that we had been accepted. Though he would not disclose where we were going over the phone, we had a good idea and were correct in thinking it would be Bulgaria.. With all the places in the world that Peace Corps serves we are happy to be going to Bulgaria. We still need to formally accept the invitation and have until the end of this week to do that. Before we do we will talk to the job project directors for Bulgaria to get a clearer picture of what our jobs will be. Can't imagine anything they say will deter us from going, as we are very excited and still sure this is what we want to be doing. Although Bulgaria will be different in many ways from home, there will be enough "familiar" things to keep us from being "traumatized" by a whole new way of living.

The packet we received from PC was about 1" thick. Most of that was general information for both us and family left behind. There is also a list of things that need to get done for them immediately. We have a list of our own and are slowly hacking away at it. There are big decisions and little details, all which need to be thought out. There is also conflicting information on such things as how to store cars long term. Some suggest raising the tires off the ground to save them. Others suggest not suspending them as that will have deleterious effects on the suspension. Fill the gas tank or not? Keep both cars or sell one? Close the house or get house sitters? It will all shake out in time. We have about 100 days till departure of which Mike will still be working about half of that time.

Along with our lists Mike obviously has so much to do at work to transition responsibilities to others. What makes that difficult is that it will take awhile before it is even decided if they will replace him or just redistribute his responsibilities. It is very possible even if the position will be filled that the designated person will not be found by the beginning of April when he begins vacation.

Although the Bulgarians have their own language, we are continuing to learn Russian for the moment. Both languages use the same alphabet so we hope there is some carryover between the two. I don't think we run the risk of having difficulty "overriding" the Russian with Bulgarian as the Russian is certainly not "well ingrained". Once we accept our invitation I believe there are net links to sites for learning Bulgarian.

Plans have been set in motion for seeing family and friends before we go. Reservations have been made for a two week trip south to Texas,Ga and Fla. We hoped to have a large family gathering the weekend of May 16-17 in New England

Not sure how often I will get to this blogging before we go, but whenever anything important is happening I will try to post it. In the meantime phones and email are quick and easy here in the US.