you can discern that you are stuck in a teacher's meeting at the school in my town when:
...it starts 25 minutes late, without fail every single month.
...cell phones blare out obnoxious music, erupting in song one by one until it seems as if practically every single teacher has a larger list of friends and enjoys greater popularity than you do.
...a solid 30 minutes are dedicated to a screaming/shouting fest, in which the goal is for each person to argue their case for charging $50 for diploma reprints because that isn't unreasonable for students with $500 cell phones to pay.
...during said shouting match, you nearly forget how to to think and completely lose sight of the reasons why you are sitting there anyways.
...you take a big swig of water out of your spaceship-like aluminum water bottle only to slug down a big fat fly, or worse... which essentially is okay because the other teachers- who think you're weird for having such an alien contraption near you always- cannot see that you just gulped down a whole lotta protein, or worse. well, this isn't actually related to the meeting, but it DID happen to me today.
...it becomes clearer and clearer as the director loses more and more control during the scream fest that it is not so strange to imagine why there is no control in the classroom, and that while you might exhibit lax discipline policies, you are by no means responsible for the utter chaos that is your daily routine in the classroom.
...you are told that you do not make your 6th grade students write enough in their notebooks (which they rarely bring to class) and you sit silent in the face of criticism knowing it is a moot point to form a rebuttal centered on the fact that you pay your own money to make copies of written exercises for the students who never bring their books or notebooks, that and you would love it if the town had a recycling bin to toss them in because they're gathering dust on your floor.
...teachers genuinely allow themselves to get angry at one another over how many votes are being cast by whom for said diploma reprints and searing divisions become verbal brawls.
...the meeting ends with a very grim, yet serious discussion of the director's goal, yes goaL singular: to keep the school open. discussions about not integrating parallels in the same grade are quelled because having excessive amounts of roma students among the others might encourage those others to seek education in larger towns. the goal is repeated: to ensure all teachers have work for the next year.
it's been a rough day. i even went for an extra long run- clocked in at 1.5 hours- which is absurd for me and i still don't feel waves of happy, positive warmness washing over me.
don't take any of this seriously.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
oh spring, how you make me grateful
it is wonderful to report that spring has arrived. spring's arrival, in fact, marks the one year anniversary of my arrival here and that feels awfully strange and incomprehensible.
a year ago, i was dying easter eggs with members of my host family, having only descended upon them days before. i remember the sheer weight of the stress pushing itself down on me, my mind clogged with frustration and excitement and enthusiasm and exhaustion.
i hadn't thought ahead to this point in this year. i couldn't. the future was such a dark, abysmal stretch of time that to think about it too long would allow fear and anxiety to fester in the many, many, many open holes that had found their way into my life one year ago.
so there i was. and now, here i sit, pondering how spring is recognizable and welcome, and yet entirely unfamiliar and foreign. i notice how my runs on the forgotten dirt roads outside town smell of pungent manure and fragrant wild flowers. i am puzzled that there are beautiful cherry blossom trees here, or what suffice as being close enough in my brain to the actual ones. i notice, too, that the weather is just as cold and, alternatively, warm and sunny. i'm delighted that strawberries are getting cheaper as the weeks press forward, remembering and forgetting all at once how i didn't buy strawberries last year because i picked them from the garden. that was one of my favorite tasks.
it feels safe to say now that one year is no time at all. i can survive anything for one year and, WOW does it feel amazing to discover that. one year is no time at all in hindsight, even though the view backwards is scantly familiar and shockingly distant. it is strange the things one remembers in a year's time and what makes it feel as if it rushed by or, conversely, drug itself along at a painfully slow pace. this year has done both.
i can remember the way my host family's home smells, but i haven't made contact with them in months. months that feel like ages and eons ago. i remember the feelings churning inside of me as we hopped into the bus to meet our host families and know i might never put myself in that situation again. miming words with someone who does not speak your language, after all, is only so efficient.
huh. so where are my musings going? have i a point at the end of all this? no.
as i continue to struggle to reconcile all that still does not fit into its proper place, i observe that i still have no point. no profound conclusions about any of this.
i suppose i'm just trying to make sense of an experience that feels displaced and outside of the realm of measurable time, with one year being a significant marker on the time line of my two years here.
one goal i have for the upcoming year is to write more about the things i am grateful for.
so, i'll start off by expressing my gratitude for my lovely oasis of an apartment.
remember it? here it is...
it is a posh, clean, remodeled, heavenly version of the traditional apartments i've seen so far and i've got more space here than i had in my last apartment in the states.
BUT, what i'm most grateful for is the fact that i don't have these monsters crawling around...
and during all the free time i have here to ponder the intricacies of life, i do NOT have to spend it in this manner with said creatures...
these beasts live in an apartment of another volunteer who played host to me last weekend. her town is lovely and the opportunities for biking and hiking and running far superior to those available to me, but MAN. cockroaches are a force to be reckoned with... one that colorado, thankfully, never introduced me to.
waking up to one of these bugs crawling up the side of your stomach in the middle of the night almost makes you forget what a lovely view this is...
EEWW. no thanks.
a year ago, i was dying easter eggs with members of my host family, having only descended upon them days before. i remember the sheer weight of the stress pushing itself down on me, my mind clogged with frustration and excitement and enthusiasm and exhaustion.
i hadn't thought ahead to this point in this year. i couldn't. the future was such a dark, abysmal stretch of time that to think about it too long would allow fear and anxiety to fester in the many, many, many open holes that had found their way into my life one year ago.
so there i was. and now, here i sit, pondering how spring is recognizable and welcome, and yet entirely unfamiliar and foreign. i notice how my runs on the forgotten dirt roads outside town smell of pungent manure and fragrant wild flowers. i am puzzled that there are beautiful cherry blossom trees here, or what suffice as being close enough in my brain to the actual ones. i notice, too, that the weather is just as cold and, alternatively, warm and sunny. i'm delighted that strawberries are getting cheaper as the weeks press forward, remembering and forgetting all at once how i didn't buy strawberries last year because i picked them from the garden. that was one of my favorite tasks.
it feels safe to say now that one year is no time at all. i can survive anything for one year and, WOW does it feel amazing to discover that. one year is no time at all in hindsight, even though the view backwards is scantly familiar and shockingly distant. it is strange the things one remembers in a year's time and what makes it feel as if it rushed by or, conversely, drug itself along at a painfully slow pace. this year has done both.
i can remember the way my host family's home smells, but i haven't made contact with them in months. months that feel like ages and eons ago. i remember the feelings churning inside of me as we hopped into the bus to meet our host families and know i might never put myself in that situation again. miming words with someone who does not speak your language, after all, is only so efficient.
huh. so where are my musings going? have i a point at the end of all this? no.
as i continue to struggle to reconcile all that still does not fit into its proper place, i observe that i still have no point. no profound conclusions about any of this.
i suppose i'm just trying to make sense of an experience that feels displaced and outside of the realm of measurable time, with one year being a significant marker on the time line of my two years here.
one goal i have for the upcoming year is to write more about the things i am grateful for.
so, i'll start off by expressing my gratitude for my lovely oasis of an apartment.
remember it? here it is...
it is a posh, clean, remodeled, heavenly version of the traditional apartments i've seen so far and i've got more space here than i had in my last apartment in the states.
BUT, what i'm most grateful for is the fact that i don't have these monsters crawling around...
and during all the free time i have here to ponder the intricacies of life, i do NOT have to spend it in this manner with said creatures...
these beasts live in an apartment of another volunteer who played host to me last weekend. her town is lovely and the opportunities for biking and hiking and running far superior to those available to me, but MAN. cockroaches are a force to be reckoned with... one that colorado, thankfully, never introduced me to.
waking up to one of these bugs crawling up the side of your stomach in the middle of the night almost makes you forget what a lovely view this is...
EEWW. no thanks.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
spring
april 2009
spring is here... and so is spring break!
a beautiful hike led me to these lovely places this past weekend:
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
intangible work
to counter my last doom and gloom post, i'd like to share an uncharacteristically entertaining and enjoyable evening with you all.
last night, at the behest- ehhem... i mean request - of a fellow colleague, i agreed to tag along on a school field trip to a big city nearby for what they told me would be an opera (which actually was a splendid musical).
two full buses worth of students and teachers piled into the soviet-era transport devices and we shuffled ourselves to this lovely city. coincidentally, i had spent much of last week there at an HIV/AIDS and Anti-Trafficking conference with a counterpart of mine and attended a lovely Beethoven symphony in the same theater. i had also had time to peruse the city and was familiar with the central area. as we drove there, i mentally amassed a quick list of things to accomplish during the hour or two afforded us prior to the musical's commencement.
on my list of adventures to knock off whilst meandering around blissfully alone and in peace were...
the purchase of a brand new white out thing-a-ma-jigger.
the purchase of dried apricots.
wandering through the huge fruit and vegetable bazaar.
having another look at ancient roman ruins.
listening to lots of new music.
drinking a delicious dulgo kafe (think really strong, tall espresso).
it was simply marvelous. the weather was near summer-like, the sun shining and the temperatures warranting outdoor cafe service. i spent the whole "free time" period alone, too happy to be concerned about my blatant disregard for the opportunity to integrate with the teachers.
i think i often forget that, unlike these teachers (most of whom i have little in common to begin with), i'm constantly at work even when i'm not technically at work. cultural integration and adaptation is a heck of a lot of work every single day. or so i told myself yesterday as i wandered away from the group.
when the designated time arrived, i met up with the kiddos and the teachers to grab my ticket for the musical. we crammed ourselves inside and thus it began.
i must admit that the musical was delightful. any and all of my previous apprehensions and worries about not understanding any of it were put to rest quickly, as the humor of the musical 'charley's aunt' and the animated actors brought it to life. an interview with the actor who played charley's aunt is here.
it was such an enjoyable experience, i soon forgot everything. i forgot i didn't understand every word of it. i forgot i was with no one who spoke english. i forgot how exhausted i had previously felt from the tedium of cultural work. completely forgot about all my sulking, and my sticky negativity and the defeat beating me down. i forgot how, for many of the kids that went with me, this was their first time in this big city.
and, in the most unlikely of places- the production of an english musical in another language on the other side of the world -i remembered to breathe and to smile because i have so much to be grateful for. i remembered that the work being done here is often work i cannot see with my eyes or touch with my hands.
last night, at the behest- ehhem... i mean request - of a fellow colleague, i agreed to tag along on a school field trip to a big city nearby for what they told me would be an opera (which actually was a splendid musical).
two full buses worth of students and teachers piled into the soviet-era transport devices and we shuffled ourselves to this lovely city. coincidentally, i had spent much of last week there at an HIV/AIDS and Anti-Trafficking conference with a counterpart of mine and attended a lovely Beethoven symphony in the same theater. i had also had time to peruse the city and was familiar with the central area. as we drove there, i mentally amassed a quick list of things to accomplish during the hour or two afforded us prior to the musical's commencement.
on my list of adventures to knock off whilst meandering around blissfully alone and in peace were...
the purchase of a brand new white out thing-a-ma-jigger.
the purchase of dried apricots.
wandering through the huge fruit and vegetable bazaar.
having another look at ancient roman ruins.
listening to lots of new music.
drinking a delicious dulgo kafe (think really strong, tall espresso).
it was simply marvelous. the weather was near summer-like, the sun shining and the temperatures warranting outdoor cafe service. i spent the whole "free time" period alone, too happy to be concerned about my blatant disregard for the opportunity to integrate with the teachers.
i think i often forget that, unlike these teachers (most of whom i have little in common to begin with), i'm constantly at work even when i'm not technically at work. cultural integration and adaptation is a heck of a lot of work every single day. or so i told myself yesterday as i wandered away from the group.
when the designated time arrived, i met up with the kiddos and the teachers to grab my ticket for the musical. we crammed ourselves inside and thus it began.
i must admit that the musical was delightful. any and all of my previous apprehensions and worries about not understanding any of it were put to rest quickly, as the humor of the musical 'charley's aunt' and the animated actors brought it to life. an interview with the actor who played charley's aunt is here.
it was such an enjoyable experience, i soon forgot everything. i forgot i didn't understand every word of it. i forgot i was with no one who spoke english. i forgot how exhausted i had previously felt from the tedium of cultural work. completely forgot about all my sulking, and my sticky negativity and the defeat beating me down. i forgot how, for many of the kids that went with me, this was their first time in this big city.
and, in the most unlikely of places- the production of an english musical in another language on the other side of the world -i remembered to breathe and to smile because i have so much to be grateful for. i remembered that the work being done here is often work i cannot see with my eyes or touch with my hands.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
enthusiastic failure?
"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." -unknown.
not too long ago i wrote about gergana, my energetic and bright little english student. i wrote about how pleasant it was for me to spend time teaching her. about how much i gained from the experience and about how truly successful i felt in my efforts exerted with her.
yesterday, i didn't hear her sweet knock on my door, making this the second week that gergana has failed to show. hoping to find an excuse for her absence, i headed to her baba's apartment looking for her there. i found nothing.
ivan is another student i tutor privately. his level of english is truly remarkable. he expressed interest in taking the TOEFL exam this summer in hopes of applying for schools outside of this town and this country.
for weeks now, we've been studying essay structures, glancing frequently at the guide to TOEFL essay preparation. he's been learning to formulate an opinion he can back up, to think in a way that isn't taught here, to write an essay that isn't a page of his opinionated ramblings. two weeks ago, he wrote his first whole essay about how the internet has changed personal interactions.
so much progress was being made. he was enthusiastic and energized about the upcoming test. he was getting caught up to his peers, all of whom are taking specific courses in larger towns for TOEFL prep.
and then today, something went wrong. an argument with another teacher and then, the director, left him sapped of the confidence we had been slowly building in him. i do not know what was said amongst them. i never will.
but, today he came to me and told me he no longer was planning to take the TOEFL test. in fact, he said, he no longer cared to meet or practice essay-writing. he is done. devoid of any small amount of hope, enthusiasm or belief in a world outside of this small place.
so here i find myself. sitting in my apartment with a new computer given to me by the school, but without textbooks for my classes. here i find myself trying to make sense of things that just do not make sense. here i find myself struggling to instill and then to cultivate the tiniest amount of hope in these two bright students. here i find myself without the ability to keep them coming back. without the ability to make them want to learn, to seek out more for themselves. here i find myself searching, hoping, praying i can find a way to maintain enthusiasm in a remarkably unenthusiastic place.
what, exactly, does that look like?
i get to leave. they don't. and i can't adequately foster hope in either of them, no matter how young, that the world is more than this small, oppressive place.
if you're someone who has ever encouraged me, supported me or helped me cultivate my sense of ambition and freedom- and you read this blog- i would like to extend a thank you to you. i had no idea how incredibly important it is to have encouragement coming at you from family, friends, teachers, or community members until i arrived here.
not too long ago i wrote about gergana, my energetic and bright little english student. i wrote about how pleasant it was for me to spend time teaching her. about how much i gained from the experience and about how truly successful i felt in my efforts exerted with her.
yesterday, i didn't hear her sweet knock on my door, making this the second week that gergana has failed to show. hoping to find an excuse for her absence, i headed to her baba's apartment looking for her there. i found nothing.
ivan is another student i tutor privately. his level of english is truly remarkable. he expressed interest in taking the TOEFL exam this summer in hopes of applying for schools outside of this town and this country.
for weeks now, we've been studying essay structures, glancing frequently at the guide to TOEFL essay preparation. he's been learning to formulate an opinion he can back up, to think in a way that isn't taught here, to write an essay that isn't a page of his opinionated ramblings. two weeks ago, he wrote his first whole essay about how the internet has changed personal interactions.
so much progress was being made. he was enthusiastic and energized about the upcoming test. he was getting caught up to his peers, all of whom are taking specific courses in larger towns for TOEFL prep.
and then today, something went wrong. an argument with another teacher and then, the director, left him sapped of the confidence we had been slowly building in him. i do not know what was said amongst them. i never will.
but, today he came to me and told me he no longer was planning to take the TOEFL test. in fact, he said, he no longer cared to meet or practice essay-writing. he is done. devoid of any small amount of hope, enthusiasm or belief in a world outside of this small place.
so here i find myself. sitting in my apartment with a new computer given to me by the school, but without textbooks for my classes. here i find myself trying to make sense of things that just do not make sense. here i find myself struggling to instill and then to cultivate the tiniest amount of hope in these two bright students. here i find myself without the ability to keep them coming back. without the ability to make them want to learn, to seek out more for themselves. here i find myself searching, hoping, praying i can find a way to maintain enthusiasm in a remarkably unenthusiastic place.
what, exactly, does that look like?
i get to leave. they don't. and i can't adequately foster hope in either of them, no matter how young, that the world is more than this small, oppressive place.
if you're someone who has ever encouraged me, supported me or helped me cultivate my sense of ambition and freedom- and you read this blog- i would like to extend a thank you to you. i had no idea how incredibly important it is to have encouragement coming at you from family, friends, teachers, or community members until i arrived here.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
a blessing
distracted by an unusually positive sense of hope and a simultaneous bout of self-consciousness at having learned i would only be team-teaching next year, i stormed out the front door of the school with an unbridled sense of freedom. free for the rest of the day. free from my 9th graders. free from inna's 'hot' blasting from impossibly expensive cell phones. free from any negative outcomes of our latest inspection that quelled my arts and crafts activity yesterday afternoon because it was rousing the students in a manner that was 'too loud.'
just as i was celebrating all these mini-victories in my head-- quite a few for one day-- i looked up to find myself walking right into a colossal fist fight. boys, primarily boys i had not ever seen before mingled with some from the 9th grade, beating the absolute crap out of one another. i looked down and away with a sudden jolt of anxiety. pools flowed into dispersed streams of bright red blood. the rain pattering on my glasses further blurred my vision as i yanked my head back up and kept walking by, silently panicking at my utter uselessness. what would i do? call the director? call the police? say something. no. no. and no.
someone with more foresight and a better grasp of the language under pressure stumbled across the entanglement. i walked to what felt like a safe distance from the crowd and watched as the scene unfolded. after a while, one police car arrived only to spew out two fairly nonchalant officers, clearly annoyed to be in charge of this mess. by this time, groups had parted and were beginning to disband in alternate directions and i noticed one of the more capable 9th grade boys emerge from the center, his face stained with blood dripping down from a wound on his forehead.
and, in that moment, i thought that i should give the universe more credit because it finally hit me. a point pounded into my head with the force of a thousands hammers. i am in no way capable of managing these 9th grade students; negotiating the complexities of these students' behavioral problems really should not be a job i have to do alone.
*sigh of relief*
it will be a blessing to teach with the other teachers next year. i no longer feel shame in this admission. it is not surrender to accept that i cannot handle these boys on my own. indeed, it is a wise and welcome decision. my ego can just get over the 'you're not good enough' reel that is on repeat in my head.
my sanity will be grateful in the end.
just as i was celebrating all these mini-victories in my head-- quite a few for one day-- i looked up to find myself walking right into a colossal fist fight. boys, primarily boys i had not ever seen before mingled with some from the 9th grade, beating the absolute crap out of one another. i looked down and away with a sudden jolt of anxiety. pools flowed into dispersed streams of bright red blood. the rain pattering on my glasses further blurred my vision as i yanked my head back up and kept walking by, silently panicking at my utter uselessness. what would i do? call the director? call the police? say something. no. no. and no.
someone with more foresight and a better grasp of the language under pressure stumbled across the entanglement. i walked to what felt like a safe distance from the crowd and watched as the scene unfolded. after a while, one police car arrived only to spew out two fairly nonchalant officers, clearly annoyed to be in charge of this mess. by this time, groups had parted and were beginning to disband in alternate directions and i noticed one of the more capable 9th grade boys emerge from the center, his face stained with blood dripping down from a wound on his forehead.
and, in that moment, i thought that i should give the universe more credit because it finally hit me. a point pounded into my head with the force of a thousands hammers. i am in no way capable of managing these 9th grade students; negotiating the complexities of these students' behavioral problems really should not be a job i have to do alone.
*sigh of relief*
it will be a blessing to teach with the other teachers next year. i no longer feel shame in this admission. it is not surrender to accept that i cannot handle these boys on my own. indeed, it is a wise and welcome decision. my ego can just get over the 'you're not good enough' reel that is on repeat in my head.
my sanity will be grateful in the end.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
cultural debauchery
today i offer another excuse for poor writing and lame blog posting: exhaustion. engrossed in a distinct and yet, not entirely unfamiliar sense of utter and complete energy depletion, i have returned from a rather cultural weekend in the mountains only to find myself a big worthless blob.
it was one of the most enjoyable weekends to date in this country, full of new and interesting celebrations, cheap beer, a cacophony of kukeri bells, peaceful and rowdy companions and... pine tree-clad mountains. i set off to visit a volunteer from my group in her bird's nest of an apartment. nestled in the highest town of the southern end of the country, this little mountain abode awoke my homesickness for mountains and for colorado.
the view from her apartment
well, let's be honest. being in this apartment, staring out from her balcony at this view made me ache to be anywhere else than where i currently am. it made me want to beg for an immediate transfer to any vacant apartment in her town. fortunately, the cultural offerings of the weekend saved the day and i got over my longing quickly enough.
a 45 minute bus ride with standing room only brought me and my packer's bag full of superfluous stuff to a tiny mountain village, home to the best musical high school in the country. i managed, too, to stumble across a ticket to the lively production of music performed by students of said school that evening.
the village played host to a famous festival that occurs every year on the first sunday in march-- the kukeri festival. the gist of kukeri is that surrounding villages come with masks and costumes and preposterous enactments of life (mostly parodies of gypsy life) in tow to entertain large audiences. kukeri, as i learned it, were once thought to ward off evil spirits at the beginning of spring, though i'm sure my wikipedia link above affords a more concise detailing of just who these kukeri folk are.
in sum: the weekend was absolutely enjoyable, as all escapes from my rather sleepy town tend to be. i currently am nursing my emotional hangover and working on getting myself caught up on sleep. again.
so far, this experience feels a lot more like the college experience i did not have than anything else. but, oh, what fun all this debauchery is.
it was one of the most enjoyable weekends to date in this country, full of new and interesting celebrations, cheap beer, a cacophony of kukeri bells, peaceful and rowdy companions and... pine tree-clad mountains. i set off to visit a volunteer from my group in her bird's nest of an apartment. nestled in the highest town of the southern end of the country, this little mountain abode awoke my homesickness for mountains and for colorado.
the view from her apartmentwell, let's be honest. being in this apartment, staring out from her balcony at this view made me ache to be anywhere else than where i currently am. it made me want to beg for an immediate transfer to any vacant apartment in her town. fortunately, the cultural offerings of the weekend saved the day and i got over my longing quickly enough.
a 45 minute bus ride with standing room only brought me and my packer's bag full of superfluous stuff to a tiny mountain village, home to the best musical high school in the country. i managed, too, to stumble across a ticket to the lively production of music performed by students of said school that evening.
the village played host to a famous festival that occurs every year on the first sunday in march-- the kukeri festival. the gist of kukeri is that surrounding villages come with masks and costumes and preposterous enactments of life (mostly parodies of gypsy life) in tow to entertain large audiences. kukeri, as i learned it, were once thought to ward off evil spirits at the beginning of spring, though i'm sure my wikipedia link above affords a more concise detailing of just who these kukeri folk are.
in sum: the weekend was absolutely enjoyable, as all escapes from my rather sleepy town tend to be. i currently am nursing my emotional hangover and working on getting myself caught up on sleep. again.
so far, this experience feels a lot more like the college experience i did not have than anything else. but, oh, what fun all this debauchery is.
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