29 November 2008
16 November 2008
Dear Universe,
I want to go someplace loving, warm and vibrant. I want to learn a beautiful language and dance my little ass off. I want to go somewhere I can just love being myself. And I'm up to taking reccomendations.
So, Universe, could you please help me out?
Thanks for your consideration.
Love always,
Carm
So, Universe, could you please help me out?
Thanks for your consideration.
Love always,
Carm
12 November 2008
Regarding Proposition 8 and other Legislation
Dear Friends,
I would like to pass along a blog post regarding Proposition 8 which bans the recognition of same-sex marriages in California (a measure that was previously decided on by the California State Surpreme Court).
http://lifeatversailles.blogspot.com/2008/11/change-will-keep-coming.html
While Proposition 8 passed in California, Arkansas voters approved a measure banning unmarried couples from adopting children or being foster parents, and ban-gay-marriage amendments passed in both Arizona and Florida.
I would appreciate it if you could please set aside some time today to read the blog listed above. It explains not only the very basics of Proposition 8 and who supported it, but also how it affects our Queer Identifying community. I've read it several times and come to varying conclusions.
One of which is that I should head the author and Harvey Milk's advice.
You may already know that I am a queer identifying, bisexual female. For those of you who are learning this for the first time, I am truly sorry that you are reading this off a computer screen and not hearing it from me in person. My apologies. I tend to believe that any 'coming out' from me should be done in person for the discussions that naturally follow. Unfortunately, seeing as how I am currently abroad, these face to face interactions aren't going to get to happen anytime soon. So, for the mean time, email will have to do. Please feel free to contact me if there is anything at all you would like to discuss. :)
Sexuality noted, it is obvious that Proposition 8 affects me in some ways, but how I am affected daily by people's perception of my sexuality (and consequently Proposition 8 and other Legislation) is too important for me not to share.
I live in two worlds and no worlds all at once. I either fit in everywhere or I fit in nowhere. It seems a bit Dr. Seussian in philosophy at times, but it is how I feel.
If I were to pick a community, I would say that I am a part of the Queer Community. But I feel like I reside in two worlds: The Straight World and The Gay World. For the most part, individuals in both accept me, but my acceptance into these communities are not without limitations.
I am currently in a relationship with a man. When we go out together it is easily assumed that I am straight because he is a man and I am a woman. I am therefore accepted into the Straight Wold. But it is false acceptance... presumed acceptance. If people don't already know me and my sexual identity and they meet me for the first time when I am with my boyfriend, it is easy to assume that I am not queer. Thus, my acceptance is and feels false because I know that people presume that I date only men.
I am also a part of the Gay World but for some queer identifying people, I'm 'not quite gay enough.' It seems ridiculous to say, but there are times when I am with people from the queer community and I can tell they feel or believe this... That I don't understand what they go through because I'm not 'completely gay' and that I still get hetero privileges because I date members of the opposite sex.
And to an extent, they're right. I do get some hetero privileges because I appear straight, especially when I am out with my boyfriend. But when I do receive these privileges, they are under false pretenses. They often quickly fade once my true sexual identity is learned.
And they are definitely right: I don't understand what it is like to be them. I will only ever know what it is like to be me. The me that is a queer identifying female who often feels like she does not belong to either club.
The first time I heard Ani Di Franco's song 'In or Out,' I about died. Someone(!), somewhere(!) was able to eloquently verbalize everything I felt about struggling between two communities and put it into a kick ass song. I *wasn't* crazy. And I wasn't the only person who had ever felt this way. I played it on 'repeat' for hours. It was the first time in my queer identifying life that I felt sane. If you have the time, please listen to it.
I know that there are straight and gay people alike (in my life and elsewhere) who do not fit my above experiences with community. But these two examples have overwhelmingly been my experience, even with some of my close friends. It's not intentional, I understand that and I love my friends because I know it's not meant to cause harm. But I do think that it denotes a certain amount of misunderstanding and after reading the blog listed above, I feel that it is important that the people in my life hear from me how I am affected daily by the way the world views my sexuality. It's easy to forget about it, but it's important that you know.
Because I *am* affected daily.
Proposition 8 will affects me whether I reside in California or not. All of the above mentioned Legislation affects me personally and affects me through my gay and lesbian friends.
Sure, I have a fifty percent chance of getting married if current Legislation never changes. Sure. I mean, if I'm presently in love with a man, why am I concerned?
Because why should I be so privileged to get to marry the person I love just because he is a man and I am a woman? If gays are banned from marrying because of Proposition 8 and other Legislation, it stands to reason that I should be banned from marrying because I am queer identifying, too. Right?
But then again, since when does love make mistakes?
I love myself and I wouldn't change who I am for the world. And I really care about my boyfriend. And I know that if he and I should decide to marry in the future, it wouldn't be without a far amount of heart-break for me, knowing it was only possible for us because he is a man and I am a woman. Not just because we are two adults in a loving committed relationship.
Thank you for reading.
And thanks Anna, for reminding me to speak up.
Love always,
Carm.
I would like to pass along a blog post regarding Proposition 8 which bans the recognition of same-sex marriages in California (a measure that was previously decided on by the California State Surpreme Court).
http://lifeatversailles.blogspot.com/2008/11/change-will-keep-coming.html
While Proposition 8 passed in California, Arkansas voters approved a measure banning unmarried couples from adopting children or being foster parents, and ban-gay-marriage amendments passed in both Arizona and Florida.
I would appreciate it if you could please set aside some time today to read the blog listed above. It explains not only the very basics of Proposition 8 and who supported it, but also how it affects our Queer Identifying community. I've read it several times and come to varying conclusions.
One of which is that I should head the author and Harvey Milk's advice.
You may already know that I am a queer identifying, bisexual female. For those of you who are learning this for the first time, I am truly sorry that you are reading this off a computer screen and not hearing it from me in person. My apologies. I tend to believe that any 'coming out' from me should be done in person for the discussions that naturally follow. Unfortunately, seeing as how I am currently abroad, these face to face interactions aren't going to get to happen anytime soon. So, for the mean time, email will have to do. Please feel free to contact me if there is anything at all you would like to discuss. :)
Sexuality noted, it is obvious that Proposition 8 affects me in some ways, but how I am affected daily by people's perception of my sexuality (and consequently Proposition 8 and other Legislation) is too important for me not to share.
I live in two worlds and no worlds all at once. I either fit in everywhere or I fit in nowhere. It seems a bit Dr. Seussian in philosophy at times, but it is how I feel.
If I were to pick a community, I would say that I am a part of the Queer Community. But I feel like I reside in two worlds: The Straight World and The Gay World. For the most part, individuals in both accept me, but my acceptance into these communities are not without limitations.
I am currently in a relationship with a man. When we go out together it is easily assumed that I am straight because he is a man and I am a woman. I am therefore accepted into the Straight Wold. But it is false acceptance... presumed acceptance. If people don't already know me and my sexual identity and they meet me for the first time when I am with my boyfriend, it is easy to assume that I am not queer. Thus, my acceptance is and feels false because I know that people presume that I date only men.
I am also a part of the Gay World but for some queer identifying people, I'm 'not quite gay enough.' It seems ridiculous to say, but there are times when I am with people from the queer community and I can tell they feel or believe this... That I don't understand what they go through because I'm not 'completely gay' and that I still get hetero privileges because I date members of the opposite sex.
And to an extent, they're right. I do get some hetero privileges because I appear straight, especially when I am out with my boyfriend. But when I do receive these privileges, they are under false pretenses. They often quickly fade once my true sexual identity is learned.
And they are definitely right: I don't understand what it is like to be them. I will only ever know what it is like to be me. The me that is a queer identifying female who often feels like she does not belong to either club.
The first time I heard Ani Di Franco's song 'In or Out,' I about died. Someone(!), somewhere(!) was able to eloquently verbalize everything I felt about struggling between two communities and put it into a kick ass song. I *wasn't* crazy. And I wasn't the only person who had ever felt this way. I played it on 'repeat' for hours. It was the first time in my queer identifying life that I felt sane. If you have the time, please listen to it.
I know that there are straight and gay people alike (in my life and elsewhere) who do not fit my above experiences with community. But these two examples have overwhelmingly been my experience, even with some of my close friends. It's not intentional, I understand that and I love my friends because I know it's not meant to cause harm. But I do think that it denotes a certain amount of misunderstanding and after reading the blog listed above, I feel that it is important that the people in my life hear from me how I am affected daily by the way the world views my sexuality. It's easy to forget about it, but it's important that you know.
Because I *am* affected daily.
Proposition 8 will affects me whether I reside in California or not. All of the above mentioned Legislation affects me personally and affects me through my gay and lesbian friends.
Sure, I have a fifty percent chance of getting married if current Legislation never changes. Sure. I mean, if I'm presently in love with a man, why am I concerned?
Because why should I be so privileged to get to marry the person I love just because he is a man and I am a woman? If gays are banned from marrying because of Proposition 8 and other Legislation, it stands to reason that I should be banned from marrying because I am queer identifying, too. Right?
But then again, since when does love make mistakes?
I love myself and I wouldn't change who I am for the world. And I really care about my boyfriend. And I know that if he and I should decide to marry in the future, it wouldn't be without a far amount of heart-break for me, knowing it was only possible for us because he is a man and I am a woman. Not just because we are two adults in a loving committed relationship.
Thank you for reading.
And thanks Anna, for reminding me to speak up.
Love always,
Carm.
02 November 2008
this one is for Patty
As promised, Poo on a Shelf
I VOTED today! You should, too.
Also, tonight is my last night in Gösing. I'm moving on to 'Cloud-town,' Austria! I'll tell the birds you said, 'hello!'
30 October 2008
Good God, Gösing! Get it together!
The jokes just aren't getting funny.
I had hoped that I was crazy with something my first week here, but I'm afraid I wasn't. The four weeks working in the vineyards for harvest, though taxing, now look like... well... I miss them.
As good as my boss and co-worker are to me, well... I'm too tired to be eloquent... they are driving me crazy. Both try to micromanage me (Uhm, I'm raking leaves. Like you told me to. Remember? See- I put them over there. Yeah, okay. No, really, I can do it in these shoes. I promise.) and neither one can delegate work very well (Take the buckets over there? Cool. Then what? Well, I don't think it will take me very long.)
I know what you're thinking, but it's not that. It's not the language. I thought it was, too. Wish that it was...
Today we bottled a thousand-odd bottles of white wine. Yes, all but one wine is white, but I can't remember what kind it was... Reisling? Maybe.
Anyhow.
For all bottling, the bottles go through a giant washing machine. You can put an entire flat of bottles into the machine (six at a time) before they will start coming out the other end. It is kind of amazing.
Today was only the second time we did bottling. The first time, we did juice, all day, and I can't remember how many thousand bottles we did. For juice, the bottles were sterilized with hot water, thus, the bottles were piping hot to handle afterwards.
With wine, the bottles we use are already sterilized and just need to have a cold rinse. No blasting hot water or piping hot bottles to worry about, but still, the machine needs to warm up a bit. And sometimes when the machine is cold, it needs a little prompting. It's easy. If a certian light goes out, you push a button and the machine starts working all hunky-doorey again. Nix problem.
'The machine. It is like a wife,' my boss tells me.
'Huh?'
'The machine. When it is cold. It is like a wife. It must... *warm up.*'
Now, in most situations, this could be perfectly hilarious. Completely hilarious. My boss certianly thought so.
It was sickening. He talks ill of women all the time, does not believe women can get a long with each other (this is a good story, too) and now I have found out that he thinks that all wives are fridgid bitches.
And yes, I'm sure if he had the words 'fridgid' and 'bitch' in his vocabulary he would have used them today.
And you know what, I don't think that I need to come back to Seattle yet, but I do think that I need out of Gösing. Damn this place is a black hole.
On the up side, I've started writing a new screen play. It's going to be called 'The Whinery.'
And yes, it is a comedy.
I had hoped that I was crazy with something my first week here, but I'm afraid I wasn't. The four weeks working in the vineyards for harvest, though taxing, now look like... well... I miss them.
As good as my boss and co-worker are to me, well... I'm too tired to be eloquent... they are driving me crazy. Both try to micromanage me (Uhm, I'm raking leaves. Like you told me to. Remember? See- I put them over there. Yeah, okay. No, really, I can do it in these shoes. I promise.) and neither one can delegate work very well (Take the buckets over there? Cool. Then what? Well, I don't think it will take me very long.)
I know what you're thinking, but it's not that. It's not the language. I thought it was, too. Wish that it was...
Today we bottled a thousand-odd bottles of white wine. Yes, all but one wine is white, but I can't remember what kind it was... Reisling? Maybe.
Anyhow.
For all bottling, the bottles go through a giant washing machine. You can put an entire flat of bottles into the machine (six at a time) before they will start coming out the other end. It is kind of amazing.
Today was only the second time we did bottling. The first time, we did juice, all day, and I can't remember how many thousand bottles we did. For juice, the bottles were sterilized with hot water, thus, the bottles were piping hot to handle afterwards.
With wine, the bottles we use are already sterilized and just need to have a cold rinse. No blasting hot water or piping hot bottles to worry about, but still, the machine needs to warm up a bit. And sometimes when the machine is cold, it needs a little prompting. It's easy. If a certian light goes out, you push a button and the machine starts working all hunky-doorey again. Nix problem.
'The machine. It is like a wife,' my boss tells me.
'Huh?'
'The machine. When it is cold. It is like a wife. It must... *warm up.*'
Now, in most situations, this could be perfectly hilarious. Completely hilarious. My boss certianly thought so.
It was sickening. He talks ill of women all the time, does not believe women can get a long with each other (this is a good story, too) and now I have found out that he thinks that all wives are fridgid bitches.
And yes, I'm sure if he had the words 'fridgid' and 'bitch' in his vocabulary he would have used them today.
And you know what, I don't think that I need to come back to Seattle yet, but I do think that I need out of Gösing. Damn this place is a black hole.
On the up side, I've started writing a new screen play. It's going to be called 'The Whinery.'
And yes, it is a comedy.
15 October 2008
Toni-English
I am in Austria learning a new language. At times, it is like learning any new language: frustrating to understand the new sounds, let alone the meaning. The problem is, I'm not learning German or even the language of some of my co-workers (Polish).
I am learning what I call 'Toni-English.' And it is
AWESOME.
I mean, bless his heart! He loves to communicate with me in English and God knows I didn't understand shit in German my first week. Although, by the end of it, I could pick the word 'sheiza!' out of any sentence, anywhere.
Here are a few of the jems with a few fun quotes to follow. Enjoy!
Toni: You have to be careful whe you give away the caps.
Me: What?! (Thinking, 'I didn't give away anything! What caps???')
Toni: When you give away... the tops (makes hand motion to show top of a bottle)
Me: Uhm, I didn't give away anything...
Toni: Hm. Maybe not you then. Maybe Hans-Jörg. But be careful. Or maybe this happen. (Holds up his hand to show me a cut)
Me: Ohhh! Yeah. Me too. (I show him my cut on my hand)
Translation- In this case, 'give away' means removing the stubborn wrapper off of the necks of the bottles before you stack them in one of the many bins where unwrapped bottles are stacked.
Toni: I go catch up the track.
Translation- 'I am going to go get the tractor and bring it here.'
Often, 'catch' means 'get,' 'take' means 'put,' and thank the gods I learned the German word for 'bucket' and 'forklift.' I can't spell them in proper German but I know them when I hear them.
Toni: Okay, now you put the... what's the English word?
Me: Hose.
Toni: Now you put hose in the cannery.
Me: UH, where's the cannery?
Toni: There. (points to the ground, not to a building)
Me: ???
Toni: Cannery, there. There in the cannery. And turn on.
Me: Is it around the corner? By the tank room?
Toni: NO! In the CANNERY! THERE!
After a little more shouting and pointing at the ground near the gravel, I finally figure it out.
Translation- 'Cannery' means 'trench,' 'gutter' or 'canal.'
At breakfast before Day 2 of work.
Toni: I think you will be sore from all of the cleaning yesterday?
Me: Uhm, yeah. (I move my arms to see how sore) But not too bad.
Toni: We have magnesium. I give you a tablet. It will help.
Toni exits to the medicine cabinient and returns with a large, white pill. He grins big.
Toni: Here you go. Estacy.
Hans-Jörg is telling me about all the places I can bicycle on my day off.
Hans-Jörg: You must go and see Austria countryside. Is very beautiful. Is big...
Toni laughs hysterically.
Toni: Hans-Jörg! NO! Austria is not BIG! AMERICA is BIG!
There will be more. I am sure. There will be more...
I am learning what I call 'Toni-English.' And it is
AWESOME.
I mean, bless his heart! He loves to communicate with me in English and God knows I didn't understand shit in German my first week. Although, by the end of it, I could pick the word 'sheiza!' out of any sentence, anywhere.
Here are a few of the jems with a few fun quotes to follow. Enjoy!
Toni: You have to be careful whe you give away the caps.
Me: What?! (Thinking, 'I didn't give away anything! What caps???')
Toni: When you give away... the tops (makes hand motion to show top of a bottle)
Me: Uhm, I didn't give away anything...
Toni: Hm. Maybe not you then. Maybe Hans-Jörg. But be careful. Or maybe this happen. (Holds up his hand to show me a cut)
Me: Ohhh! Yeah. Me too. (I show him my cut on my hand)
Translation- In this case, 'give away' means removing the stubborn wrapper off of the necks of the bottles before you stack them in one of the many bins where unwrapped bottles are stacked.
Toni: I go catch up the track.
Translation- 'I am going to go get the tractor and bring it here.'
Often, 'catch' means 'get,' 'take' means 'put,' and thank the gods I learned the German word for 'bucket' and 'forklift.' I can't spell them in proper German but I know them when I hear them.
Toni: Okay, now you put the... what's the English word?
Me: Hose.
Toni: Now you put hose in the cannery.
Me: UH, where's the cannery?
Toni: There. (points to the ground, not to a building)
Me: ???
Toni: Cannery, there. There in the cannery. And turn on.
Me: Is it around the corner? By the tank room?
Toni: NO! In the CANNERY! THERE!
After a little more shouting and pointing at the ground near the gravel, I finally figure it out.
Translation- 'Cannery' means 'trench,' 'gutter' or 'canal.'
At breakfast before Day 2 of work.
Toni: I think you will be sore from all of the cleaning yesterday?
Me: Uhm, yeah. (I move my arms to see how sore) But not too bad.
Toni: We have magnesium. I give you a tablet. It will help.
Toni exits to the medicine cabinient and returns with a large, white pill. He grins big.
Toni: Here you go. Estacy.
Hans-Jörg is telling me about all the places I can bicycle on my day off.
Hans-Jörg: You must go and see Austria countryside. Is very beautiful. Is big...
Toni laughs hysterically.
Toni: Hans-Jörg! NO! Austria is not BIG! AMERICA is BIG!
There will be more. I am sure. There will be more...
All the Girls Standing in the Line for the Bathroom!
That is a quote from my favorite hip-hop song I have heard on FM4 here. I about died.
I'm a bit behind. A bit outdated on here. My apologies.
Will you excuse me if I say that I was nervous to ask to use the internet my first week here? And if I say I've been working 10 hour days?
Both are true. Honest!
But now I'm back, with a little teaser from week one. (A gal's gotta get to bed sometime so she can work the next day!)
I arrived after a nice view of this from my plane's window seat:
and spent the following day emptying bottles into casks:
a whole lot of casks:
then I cleaned the tank room. It was enthralling!
Please note the pink, Barbie gloves:
I think my boss gave them to me on purpose. I've been practicing 'I am not a sissy!' in German. It's my favorite phrase and I am waiting for just the right moment to use it... :)
Day Two: The bottle emptying marathon.
The set up: Bottles to be emptied (back), the un-corker (left), and the wonderful time saving emptying... holder? (right) (I can't believe I'm already loosing English...!)
My workout: Insert bottle. Push lever down. Push lever up. Dump bottle into rack and repeat.
Then,when you get sick of bottles, go find a new friend:
Can you find my friend?
So, my first two days (well, week, actually) had a lot of bottles in them. Bottles, bottles everyhere. Full, empty, broken, dirty, completely sterile and clean... you name it. I got kind of sick of seeing bottles. Then I asked myself what the hell I was doing at a winery if I don't like bottles.
I shook my head. I didn't think that one through.
(OH! But speaking of bathrooms! The toilets here have, like, little shelves in the bowl. It's not just a cave like ours in America. There is a high part and then a little low part where the water drains out. It's really weird. Like your poo is sitting on a shelf so you can examine it better.)
I'm a bit behind. A bit outdated on here. My apologies.
Will you excuse me if I say that I was nervous to ask to use the internet my first week here? And if I say I've been working 10 hour days?
Both are true. Honest!
But now I'm back, with a little teaser from week one. (A gal's gotta get to bed sometime so she can work the next day!)
I arrived after a nice view of this from my plane's window seat:
 |
| From |
and spent the following day emptying bottles into casks:
 |
| From |
a whole lot of casks:
 |
| From |
then I cleaned the tank room. It was enthralling!
 |
| From Hello Austria! My frist day of work. |
Please note the pink, Barbie gloves:
 |
| From Hello Austria! My frist day of work. |
I think my boss gave them to me on purpose. I've been practicing 'I am not a sissy!' in German. It's my favorite phrase and I am waiting for just the right moment to use it... :)
Day Two: The bottle emptying marathon.
 |
| From Day 2 of Work |
The set up: Bottles to be emptied (back), the un-corker (left), and the wonderful time saving emptying... holder? (right) (I can't believe I'm already loosing English...!)
 |
| From Day 2 of Work |
 |
| From Day 2 of Work |
My workout: Insert bottle. Push lever down. Push lever up. Dump bottle into rack and repeat.
Then,when you get sick of bottles, go find a new friend:
 |
| From Day 2 of Work |
Can you find my friend?
So, my first two days (well, week, actually) had a lot of bottles in them. Bottles, bottles everyhere. Full, empty, broken, dirty, completely sterile and clean... you name it. I got kind of sick of seeing bottles. Then I asked myself what the hell I was doing at a winery if I don't like bottles.
I shook my head. I didn't think that one through.
(OH! But speaking of bathrooms! The toilets here have, like, little shelves in the bowl. It's not just a cave like ours in America. There is a high part and then a little low part where the water drains out. It's really weird. Like your poo is sitting on a shelf so you can examine it better.)
22 September 2008
ciao-ciao bulgaria!
Shaun~ Thank you for showing me one helluva time around Bulgaria. The past three weeks have been fantastic. Maybe I have told you this already, but I really can't thank you enough. I'm so glad I got to see where you live, what you do, and meet all your peoples. THANK YOU!
Friends of Shaun~ I am so glad I got to meet you! You are an incredible bunch of people and I feel very lucky to have gotten the opportunity to come kick it with you. You rock! In many, many ways.
Oh, and Shaun, your Bulgarian pronounciation is so much better than mine. Don't worry.
I'll miss you guys.
loveLOVE,
Carmel.
17 September 2008
13 September 2008
10 September 2008
faster than a bulgarian bus
We said good-bye to Jacob tonight. A couple of hours ago we saw him off at the bus station in a city close to Razgrad called Shuman. After being in Peace Corps Jordan for two years and three months, Jacob is starting a *long* journey back to his home in Portland.
We spent the day relaxing at Shaun's. Jacob packed. I slept. Around midday we headed out for the 50 minute bus ride to Shuman and were cheated out of some leva (the Bulgarian currency) from the bus driver. This is a common practice. He claimed to have heard us say we were going to a city called Varna. Shuman? Varna? Well, they do sound similar.
After a some beers, orange juice, fried mashed potatoes, pizza and coffee in Shuman, it was time for us to take Jacob back to the bus station. He was, understandably very nervous about getting to his flight in Sofia, a city that is a seven hour bus ride away. We were about to send him on his own to negotiate a taxi in Sofia in Bulgarian in a corrupt system armed with a piece of paper that said "How much to the airport?"
It made me nervous, too.
As we stood outside of the bus, Jacob ready to board, Shaun saw a Bulgarian man who he works with sometimes. The man was traveling to the Sofia airport to go to London and offered to travel with Jacob from the bus station to the airport.
"Sometimes," Jacob said with relief, "I believe in god."
There were not as many tears as I expected. This, I do believe, is a good thing.
We said our goodbyes, waved him off, and then Shaun and I headed for a taxi to take us to the interstate towards Razgrad. And then we asked him to leave us there.
We stood on the side of the road, thumbs out, hopeful. There were no more busses to Razgrad. The taxi would have cost us 35 Leva. Our taxi driver had been dour about our chances but we chalked it up to him wanting to score a few bucks.
"It's 7:30," I told Shaun. "I'll time it to see how long it takes."
We were stared at by people with full cars, people with empty cars, and a couple truck drivers. One waved his hand as if to say "I'm sorry." I cooed to Shaun that someone was apologetic. Then the apologetic truck driver pulled over and Shaun and I ran our asses over to his cab.
We had waited a whole half a minute and got back to Razgrad faster than any bus we have taken. Including a one kilometer walk.
Thank you, tired, caffeinated, nicotined Truck Driver. I hope you get some sleep soon.
We spent the day relaxing at Shaun's. Jacob packed. I slept. Around midday we headed out for the 50 minute bus ride to Shuman and were cheated out of some leva (the Bulgarian currency) from the bus driver. This is a common practice. He claimed to have heard us say we were going to a city called Varna. Shuman? Varna? Well, they do sound similar.
After a some beers, orange juice, fried mashed potatoes, pizza and coffee in Shuman, it was time for us to take Jacob back to the bus station. He was, understandably very nervous about getting to his flight in Sofia, a city that is a seven hour bus ride away. We were about to send him on his own to negotiate a taxi in Sofia in Bulgarian in a corrupt system armed with a piece of paper that said "How much to the airport?"
It made me nervous, too.
As we stood outside of the bus, Jacob ready to board, Shaun saw a Bulgarian man who he works with sometimes. The man was traveling to the Sofia airport to go to London and offered to travel with Jacob from the bus station to the airport.
"Sometimes," Jacob said with relief, "I believe in god."
There were not as many tears as I expected. This, I do believe, is a good thing.
We said our goodbyes, waved him off, and then Shaun and I headed for a taxi to take us to the interstate towards Razgrad. And then we asked him to leave us there.
We stood on the side of the road, thumbs out, hopeful. There were no more busses to Razgrad. The taxi would have cost us 35 Leva. Our taxi driver had been dour about our chances but we chalked it up to him wanting to score a few bucks.
"It's 7:30," I told Shaun. "I'll time it to see how long it takes."
We were stared at by people with full cars, people with empty cars, and a couple truck drivers. One waved his hand as if to say "I'm sorry." I cooed to Shaun that someone was apologetic. Then the apologetic truck driver pulled over and Shaun and I ran our asses over to his cab.
We had waited a whole half a minute and got back to Razgrad faster than any bus we have taken. Including a one kilometer walk.
Thank you, tired, caffeinated, nicotined Truck Driver. I hope you get some sleep soon.
09 September 2008
in the little American apartment in Bulgaria
We have listened to more American Pop music than I have listened to in two to three years. Which, actually, is the last time I got to see both Shaun and Jacob (my Peace Corps friends) together.
In the past two days, we have really only talked about female pop stars and the upcoming Presidential race. So much for leaving America over the ocean!
Would you like a little taste of our recent YouTube splurges?
Of course you would!
For your viewing pleasure, we have:
some Paula - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN-Qq2umKZo
some Janet - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhbLbBpn7II
some Beyonce - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-qiZhOFQMQ
And last, but certainly not least...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skV28D0jsjs
That one is my favorite. For obvious reasons.
In the past two days, we have really only talked about female pop stars and the upcoming Presidential race. So much for leaving America over the ocean!
Would you like a little taste of our recent YouTube splurges?
Of course you would!
For your viewing pleasure, we have:
some Paula - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN-Qq2umKZo
some Janet - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhbLbBpn7II
some Beyonce - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-qiZhOFQMQ
And last, but certainly not least...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skV28D0jsjs
That one is my favorite. For obvious reasons.
06 September 2008
i made love to joanna cheris last night
... with my eyes.
We (a helluva lot of Peace Corps Volunteers and I) went to a free concert in a beautiful Roman ampitheater last night. I thought the concert was going to be traditional Balkan music, but it was a very intricate dance production that combined ballet, tango, and what I can only assume was traditional Balkan folk dancing.
It was amazing. The story went a little something like this: Moody, nostalgic time followed by happy, Balkan times, followed by sexy tango seduction, followed by a war. Then more moody, nostalgic time (to recuperate from the war), followed by more happy Balkan times, followed by more, even sexier tango seduction, followed by another war. This story repeats three more times and yes, it does include WW2.
The main character during the moody, nostalgic time was a young woman ballerina/tango dancer who I like to call the Balkan Fairy Princess. Rather than being the symbol of death, she the "fixer of things." And I shit you not, this woman looked just like the gal who played JoAnna Cheris in the movie "Stick It."
I actually believe she could be the same person for the following reasons: 1) She was by far the superior dancer a group of two dozen. 2) While I realize that all dancers move in a similar respect, this woman's posture and mannerisms during dance were very similar to how JoAnna Cheris "performed."
So, who wants to do some investigative work and see if the gal who played JoAnna Cheris was in Plovdiv, Bulgaria last night doing some crazy-ass ballet?
We (a helluva lot of Peace Corps Volunteers and I) went to a free concert in a beautiful Roman ampitheater last night. I thought the concert was going to be traditional Balkan music, but it was a very intricate dance production that combined ballet, tango, and what I can only assume was traditional Balkan folk dancing.
It was amazing. The story went a little something like this: Moody, nostalgic time followed by happy, Balkan times, followed by sexy tango seduction, followed by a war. Then more moody, nostalgic time (to recuperate from the war), followed by more happy Balkan times, followed by more, even sexier tango seduction, followed by another war. This story repeats three more times and yes, it does include WW2.
The main character during the moody, nostalgic time was a young woman ballerina/tango dancer who I like to call the Balkan Fairy Princess. Rather than being the symbol of death, she the "fixer of things." And I shit you not, this woman looked just like the gal who played JoAnna Cheris in the movie "Stick It."
I actually believe she could be the same person for the following reasons: 1) She was by far the superior dancer a group of two dozen. 2) While I realize that all dancers move in a similar respect, this woman's posture and mannerisms during dance were very similar to how JoAnna Cheris "performed."
So, who wants to do some investigative work and see if the gal who played JoAnna Cheris was in Plovdiv, Bulgaria last night doing some crazy-ass ballet?
03 September 2008
dear seattle, part fourteen
It is with some regret that I write you this Dear John letter from a post-war city that was never in a war. I believe that these things, if not done in person, should at least be done before a person initiates separation. My bad.
We've had a good run, Seattle. I like you. I like you for your coffee, your love of all things indie, and your wonderfully blustery autumns. And you know I like autumn best.
I have had more emotions tied with you than I have ever had with any other city. You've taught me a lot these past few years. And that one time I thought you made me kill a butterfly only to find it taking flight from my bumper at the next intersection... wow. You really had me.
I've thought about this letter a lot. I've written it months before I left you, when the bitterness of our relationship was at an all time high; when I was visiting another city and the nostalgia set in for your passive kindness; when I was on an airplane missing the lovelies that live within you... but now, now I am not quite sure what to say other than I know there are parts of you that I will always miss- Parts of you that will remain in my bloodstream for quite some time.
I will always love it when it rains more than a mist. I will always turn my nose up at other cities coffee. I will always think of Pioneer Square and Sunday Sunday Sunday when I see a rug store.
For these things, I thank you. I won't say that you're better off without me, because we both know that you're not. You'll miss me, Seattle. I know, I know.. it's egotistical to say (I won't pretend it's not), but... *shrug*
Good luck, Seattle. We'll come across each other again some day.
much love,
your ex-preschool teaching, coffee making, library loving, greenlake walking, quarreling friend
We've had a good run, Seattle. I like you. I like you for your coffee, your love of all things indie, and your wonderfully blustery autumns. And you know I like autumn best.
I have had more emotions tied with you than I have ever had with any other city. You've taught me a lot these past few years. And that one time I thought you made me kill a butterfly only to find it taking flight from my bumper at the next intersection... wow. You really had me.
I've thought about this letter a lot. I've written it months before I left you, when the bitterness of our relationship was at an all time high; when I was visiting another city and the nostalgia set in for your passive kindness; when I was on an airplane missing the lovelies that live within you... but now, now I am not quite sure what to say other than I know there are parts of you that I will always miss- Parts of you that will remain in my bloodstream for quite some time.
I will always love it when it rains more than a mist. I will always turn my nose up at other cities coffee. I will always think of Pioneer Square and Sunday Sunday Sunday when I see a rug store.
For these things, I thank you. I won't say that you're better off without me, because we both know that you're not. You'll miss me, Seattle. I know, I know.. it's egotistical to say (I won't pretend it's not), but... *shrug*
Good luck, Seattle. We'll come across each other again some day.
much love,
your ex-preschool teaching, coffee making, library loving, greenlake walking, quarreling friend
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