After two-ish months of living and teaching in Vidin, life has taken on a familiar groove, but a welcome and exciting interruption to this daily rhythm was the arrival of the sweet phrase 'fall break' on my calendar pages. In true Newtonian spirit, I was happy to balance things out by departing— on a bus (then plane, train, metro, and taxi) to Austria and Hungary with three lovely companions. We did joke that it took us every possible form of public transport to get there, except perhaps a boat— but then we stopped talking about it, because it was pretty rainy and we also weren’t far from the Danube River, and I think nobody wanted to jinx it. I did wear the same pair of pants for seven days in a row, as a combination of airline baggage size rules and basic physics forced me to remove the rolled-up pair of jeans from my backpack. Space was precious, the budget was low, and I was ready to wear and re-wear and re-re-wear my leg garments for the sake of a good adventure. And the adventure was, indeed, really good. Easily worth every day in my low-fashion, high comfort vestment (for the record, I did pack clean shirts). As an aside, my three companions were far smarter packers than I— with bags impressively smaller, they still managed to look functional and put-together every day. I have much to learn. Vienna was busy and beautiful; bare trees, high churches, ridiculously ornate palaces and twinkling cafes (few of which we neglected— food was a serious part of our expedition) made a big impression on me. We also took a day trip to Salzburg to voyage through some sites from the filming of The Sound of Music, and it was just like walking through a scene from a post card. I kept waiting for the fake scenery to fall down around us and reveal a real world that wasn’t so impossibly quaint and winsome and colorful. The lakes district just outside the city offers breathtaking overlooks, many of which you can peep in the movie, and I’ll testify that they are even more magnificent in person. The hills really are alive. Then it was on to Budapest, where we learned upon arriving that they do not, in fact, use the euro in Hungary. While the line at the airport ATM grew longer and longer behind us, we sarcastically patted ourselves on the back for being such informed travellers, and never quite managed to find peace with the strange currency for the remainder of our trip. Even though the rate of exchange seems like it would be beneficial (1 US dollar equals almost 268 Hungarian forint), paying 800 anythings for a cup of coffee is both alien and disorienting, and it threw our budgeting skills out of whack just a bit. However, the city of Budapest is enough to charm the monetary frustrations out of even the saltiest traveler, and I think we all found our visit there to be beyond expectation. Our walking tour was exceptional— beautiful day, amazing guide— and it helped us get our bearings in the city. Nearly every moment there was a favorite, but a few stick out in my mind: taking a dip in the famed thermal baths, visiting the Terror Háza museum on Hungary’s Fascist and Communist eras, finding a ruin bar with a (confusing and amusing) Soviet-themed basement, walking along the fantastically-lit Danube after sundown, and chowing down on chimney cake with three fellow Fulbright friends who were also passing through. This last one was especially sweet— and not just the cake— because we hadn’t seen these certain companions since orientation in early September, and we all had so much to share. Classroom experiences and hilarious stories (often one and the same), the goods and bads of life in our cities, and everything in between. I think it’s pure joy to have these others to laugh with and lean on, and I already can’t wait for the next time we all meet. In all, it was a magnificent trip that I’ll remember fondly, and one made even greater— like many things in life— by the company of such easygoing, adventurous, and hilarious comrades. As a note of comedy, on the eighth day I did find an extra pair of pants that I had fit into the bottom of my bag after all, and I felt like a new woman. Now back in Vidin, life carries on as usual, but persists in entertaining me in many different ways. With few exceptions, I really enjoy my time in the classroom, and out-of-school hours bring their own joyful busyness as well. Crafting oratory pieces and practicing poems with the speech team, running room to room in my apartment while Sharon chases a cat toy and climbs my legs like scratching posts, playing spectator at my students' weekend basketball game (xайде видабаскет!), or even tiny stuff like feeling the (very non-Florida) change of season outside while I plan a lesson for the week ahead. I do, of course, fight with the “what next?” worries— they creep up fiercely and often— but I’m doing my utmost to fend them off so I can really have this time to its fullest. It’s probably one of the most unique years I’ll experience, and I do refuse to let it slip out from underneath me. Although I have no idea what comes next, I’ll most likely land on two feet somehow, and that’s all I’ve got for now (but I will take any suggestions). Regarding the esteemed and honorable Sharon, she has recovered outstandingly well. All that seems to remain of her troubles are a slight fungal infection in her tiny nose, and an insistence on scratching and biting everything and everyone (a.k.a. me) around her. But of course the latter is more of an Amanda trouble than anything else, and I suppose it’s normal kitten behavior, frustrating and exhausting though it may be. But, I maintain that she is the dearest companion and grandest confidant that I could have around, and I am exceedingly glad for her health. Not quite so glad, however, is the toy mouse on a stick that she daily maims and disrespects— but he had it coming, I’m sure, and it’s never long before Sharon moves on to other endeavors like pulling my earrings out or jumping into my washer. Ah, the joys of cat parenthood.
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A play on blagodarya
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