how do you spell "amphetamine?"

So I was bad last week with posting. I’m sorry. I’ve been writing a lot, just not posting stuff. I think I would like to write more in the future, but not about stuff I want to post here. Here I am trying to post things about my experiences in Bulgaria, to try to inform people about life here.

Life here. I had dinner with one of my prisoners last nite. He works in the employee cafeteria, but had last nite off so joined me for dinner, kinda. He ate two pieces of cake while I ate cold steak and soup. Apparently he’s been in prison for two years, and hopes to get out soon. He said anytime now. I usually don’t want to know what my students did to get in the big house but he brought it up.

How it was presented was like this (rough translation):
Prisoner X: So what was your profession in America?
Me: Well, I was a student.
Prisoner X: What did you study?
Me: Well, I studied Anthropology.
Prisoner X: {Something I didn’t catch} studied {unintelligible}
Me: What?
Prisoner X: I studied {again, something unintelligible}chemistry.
Me: What? What kind of chemistry?
Prisoner X:  {you guessed it, I didn’t understand again} chemistry.
Me: Biological chemistry?
Prisoner X: No, {still didn’t get it} chemistry.
Me: {cue the light bulb… now!} Oh, Synthetic Chemistry!
Prisoner: Yes, that’s how I got in here.
Me: Huh?
Prisoner X: Well, you take a little of this and a little of that and {some gestures with hands} you got Amphetamines.
Me: Oh, gotcha.

So one of my men is a drugmaker. Ok. He got married last year, while in prison, to a woman who he knew before. He hopes to get out in a few months and live with her for the first time. It’s interesting, this guy probably ruined a bunch of people’s lives by making drugs, but you wouldn’t know it from talking with him. He’s an honest guy, works hard in the kitchen, takes English classes, and has one simple wish: to return to live with his wife. I hope he learned his lesson these years in jail and will return to the public a changed man. I’d hate for the next volunteer to have him in their class too.  

bird flu, colin farrel and torettes

     I came home from an awful day at school this afternoon to have one of my neighborhood street kids tell me that the river near our block has Bird Flu. This kid, who looks like a three foot tall Colin Farrell, is usually crazy anyway so I laughed him off and proceeded to my apartment to drown my sorrows in a huge fried egg sandwich. I met another neighbor outside my block and she confirmed what the little Colin said; apparently she found a dead pigeon outside our block and she was waiting for someone to come from the Municipality to collect it.
     
     I don’t think we really have Bird Flu. I mean, we do have chickens. Lots of chickens. But Bird Flu? It would explain why the kids were so awful today. Even my 11th grade class was horrible. Granted I had them for their last period and I’m sure they were itching to leave but I had to stop several times to get them to calm down. Twelfth grade, the grade that could usually care less, I must say, were pretty good, considering. But 8th grade, oh 8th grade. I have come to the sneaking suspicion that some of the students a.) take crack before or during class, b.) have Tourette's Syndrome, c.) are possessed by the Prince of Darkness or d.) are Neanderthals. It’s a class of all guys. Once upon a time the class did have girls but I think they ate them or something. And today, they just couldn’t stay still or not talk. My new colleague was teaching them and I was in the back trying to discipline them but it was to no avail. I thought my colleague was gonna have a aneurysm which wouldn’t have been that bad because they would have just eaten her too. Near the end of class I thought I had lost a kid. I turned and Cvetozar wasn’t there. I didn’t remember letting any kids out but nonetheless he was gone. At first I was a little happy because I thought they had turned upon themselves and there would be a Ultimate Fighting Championship and I would only have to teach one student. But alas, I happened to turn my head and there he was… hiding in a cupboard in the back of class! This kid is tall too. Anyway, I turned back around and pretended I didn’t see him.

     I think this might have something to do with the nice, freakish weather we are having now. For the first time since November, I didn’t have to wear thermal underwear. Windows were opened. Kids migrated to the other side of the classroom instead of cramming to one side of the room, right next to radiator. And of course, I think once their brains unfroze so did their crazy centers. Oh well, I only have two classes tomorrow. Neither of them are with the cannibals.

happy birthday to me!

Well I celebrated my first birthday in Bulgaria on Wednesday and it was quite an event. The night before my birthday, which in America is Valentine's Day, in Bulgaria is "Трифон Зарезан" the day of vine cutting. This holiday is the traditional day that the grape vines are cut for the upcoming year, and as such, it is celebrated with lots of wine and rakia. I was invited by a neighbor to go to one of the villages and celebrate there. The night involved a lot of alcohol and dancing. As I had work the next morning, I avoided a lot of the alcohol but I took full advantage of the opportunity to practice my traditional dancing skills.
Then on my birthday morning, I was pleasantly suprised by a call from my friend Ruthie from the states. I brought in my compulsary two boxes of chocolates, sweets and soda to treat my colleagues at school, and then rushed to my first class with 12th grade. There I was treated to a beautiful rendition of Happy Birthday, a delicious cake and a icon of Mary and Child. I blew out the candles and felt like a jerk because I made the students pull out there homework and study for the test the next day. I run a tight ship, bribery will get you nowhere.
Luckily on Wednesdays, I only have two classes and was able to race home after school and start preparing for my bash. I made a little bit of everything, dip, pork, apple cobbler, mashed potatoes, salami (which I had to cut myself, stupid neighbors...), and bread and cheese. At around 3:00, my friend Gergana came over to help me prepare and at 6:00 the guests started trickling in. I have a problem with hosting guests. When I have a celebration, I like to invite everyone I know, and this sometimes leads to trouble. In high school and college, I used to have big parties that always overflowed expectations. On Thanksgiving here, I had 15 guests in this little apartment. If you've seen my apartment, you will know that having 15 people here at one time involves some kind of black magic. This time I did a little bit better and only had 12 guests. Of course, I ran out of dishes and space on the table, and people learned quick to keep track of their personal fork, but at least people had fun, I think.
The discussion over dinner mostly revolved around stupid things I had said in Bulgarian and trips I had taken with neighbors to the villages, to the pool, and other parties. And of course, the discussion meandered into politics and gypsies but I was happy to sit back and enjoy people enjoying themselves.
I want to thank everyone who texted me, or called me, or sent me e-mails or real letters. I appreciated them all and you made me feel very special and loved. Thanks. 

the mystery of lawn darts

I was having a conversation with my friend Jessica today, and we started talking about the Olympics. And as we all know, you can not talk about the intense, unparalleled exhibit of athleticism, courage and training that is the modern Olympics without bringing up Curling. This got us to thinking, what other over-hyped, non-sports are there out there? Lawn Darts. I had to explain them to Jessica, but she caught on quickly. Then I got thinking, what the Hell ever happened to Lawn Darts? I vaguely remember deaths were involved. So Jessica and her amazing computer hacking skills found the info. Apparently they were banned in the US. Too many people getting skull fractures I guess. That, however, also got me thinking, where are our Lawn Darts? Mom, didn’t we have a set? What happened to them?

In a totally unrelated note, if someone has a set of Lawn Darts, Jessica and I would like to talk to you. We are planning a Decathlon of Non-sports for some time in 2007. We are now taking donations. If you have any equipment for Lawn Darts, bowling, horseshoes, ping-pong, badminton, Dwarf Throwing (including, but not limited to a dwarf), croquet, capture the flag, bocce and pool let us know.

grades and theater

Today was the last day of the first term at school. It has been a hectic last week fitting in term tests, term test retakes, alternate term tests (for students who were too busy to be in their regularly scheduled class for their term test) final projects, and calculating final grades. Today was especially hard because I announced the term grades to the students. Before that though I had to finally give a grade to several students whom I had been dreading giving grades. Some of these kids are in my 12th grade class and deserve to fail. They are lazy, they skip class a lot and when they do show up, they cause disruptions and are just plain nasty. Another teacher, however, pleaded with me to pass them and this colleague is very important to my life here.

Three of the kids are in my 11th class and though they rarely show up to class, they are smart. They are good kids and they understand some English. Both of the boys are nice guys. One I actually didn’t know he was in my class until November 21st, when he first decided to come. When he decides to put in enough effort to show up to class, he participates well, helps me translate and says funny (non-inappropriate) things in English. Since November, he has been showing up more regularly and working harder. The other boy knows no English (expect “Oh, sh--!” whenever I call on him in class), he doesn’t do his homework, or show up for tests. I normally would have no qualms about flunking his sorry ass, but he is the son of that very important person here. I normally hate playing favorites like that but this person is so integral to my life here that I feel I owe her son a passing grade. And finally, the girl. She has showed up to my class 4 times and she too is funny and knows some English. She has a rough family life and has to work all the time.

So what did I do? I must admit I am ashamed to admit it. I passed the three guys from 12th class and the son and failed the girl. I asked some other colleagues what to do about her and they suggested I flunk her. So I did, but now I feel bad about it. And as for the other boy in 11th, I gave him a 4 (a “C” in the American system.). He still argued and wanted a 5 (a “B”).
It’s crazy that back home something like this would be so simple; a kid who never shows up for class, acts like a jerk the whole time, never does his homework or hasn’t learned a thing is failed. It’s simple, you don’t do what’s required, you fail. But here I have to weigh family allegiances, and pleading colleagues who are keys to my emotional and physical well-being along with poverty and domestic disturbances. I’m not naïve enough to believe that this doesn’t happen in America, but it seems so much less prevalent. Maybe I am wrong, and please let me know if I am, but at least at home I think I would feel safer making a stand. There I have a stronger, larger support network and would be working in a system that is more in align with my teaching ethos. Here, when it comes to grading, I constantly doubt myself that the kids are ready to be held up to an American system of grading that values discipline, participation, creativity and effort over rote-memorization, social-network, and group tranquility.

There was a bright light today. Today was the first ever English theater in SOU Hristo Botev, Bobov Dol. Over the last two weeks, my 11th class came up with an idea for a play, wrote it, rehearsed it and today performed the courtroom drama, “Chaos in Sleepy Hollow” before an audience of about 10 students and teachers.


I can tell you that I have rarely before felt such pride for the actions of others. (I think the last time was when I was a Boy Scout leading a group of eight, usually spastic, adolescents boys as they undertook a series of tasks and tests which the efficiency of a SEAL team in the Klondike Derby. Any former Boy Scout patrol leaders out there know exactly what I am talking about…). I was so proud of these boys and girls because not only did they do a great job, not only did they put in a lot of effort but they made the project their own and attempted something that was completely foreign to them.


On Wednesdays, I have two periods with 11th class: fourth and fifth. Right before 4th period two girls from the class entered the teachers room and asked me if they could have the room to themselves for the period so that they could surprise me. I said “yes” partly because I trusted this class and partly because I was intrigued about what they were up to. The next period, I found out. They had brought in make up and costumes and wanted to surprise me because this was not listed in the requirements I had given them for the project. They had taken this on themselves. They had also enlisted the help of a girl from 6th class to act as a Bulgarian Fortune –Teller. I was pleasantly surprised to say the least.


But more than anything, I was proud because they were doing something that they had never been asked to do. I know for a fact that in none of their other classes have they been asked to use this much creativity, taken this much risk and been given this much freedom and responsibility. After seeing the performance, a teacher congratulated me. I told her that she should congratulate them, I was only the editor. She was shocked. She had thought I had made the script and simply given it to them to act out.


During the performance, of course, the student’s accents showed though and made it hard at times to understand what they said. And I’m not sure that “Objection!” and “Sustained!” are the most important English words one needs to know. But I do know that they learned something about creativity, responsibility and pride in a job well done. This, I think, this is the important lesson and maybe, just maybe, why I am here. Bravo, kids.