If you're wondering how this blog post will differ from the acclaimed Agatha Christie novel, Murder on the Orient Express, I will spoil it by letting you know that there has not been a murder here. In all other ways, however, critics find both works to be on relatively equal footing. Even despite the lack of heinous crime and lawless misdeed, our orientation was a whirlwind; full, intensive, and just plain lengthy. Eleven days of seminars and language lessons and buzzing around inside the same walls with the same flock of humans is, as it turns out, exhausting. In many ways, it really wasn't my jam. At the worst moments, I felt Earth’s atmosphere rudely shrinking in around me and pushing me into this herd of people— way smarter, more well-traveled, and far better conversationalists than I— and I would have loved to climb into a hole or blast off into space or something equally as dramatic just to get away from the pressure-filled commotion. I craved a break from all the talking, sitting, listening, remembering things, writing them down and doing it all over again the next day. Show me to the rocket ship, cried the introverted parts of my brain, already clad in my mental space suit and imaginary oxygen helmet. At the best, though, I felt a newfound place among an incredible hodgepodge of people that I would have probably never met under any other circumstances, and with whom I got to share several rare and extraordinary moments. We’ve learned enough to make me feel prepared for the year ahead (and possibly more), and have been treated with kindness and esteem. Between everything, I’ve already seen some parts of Bulgaria that make my stomach flutter. And, no, that’s not traveler’s diarrhea. In all, very opposite reviews of the same two weeks. But with such long days and a schedule that flung us from one thing to the next at 100 km an hour (extremely smooth attempt at blending in to the metric system), the dusty crevices of my wonderfully human brain had bountiful opportunity to switch from one feeling to another and everything in between. Speaking of dust (editor's note: I lost my train of thought, and it turns out this is not relevant to dust at all), one part of the hubble-bubble (not an academic term) of orientation was an introduction to several service-related organizations throughout Bulgaria, aimed at helping us find ways to volunteer our extra time. We are firmly encouraged to get involved outside the realm of teaching, which I think is not only admirable but crucial in order to have a purposeful experience here. It’ll surely take some time getting settled at first, but I look forward to exploring that side of things once I get a handle on life in my new community. And alas, today is the day most of us leave Sofia in the dust (perhaps this is how I meant to start the previous paragraph) and jet out to our separate cities all across the country. Currently, I stare at my 2 suitcases— may God bless them— and one comically overstuffed backpack, experiencing this rare phenomenon called "down time" before heading to the bus station. As everyone filters out, hugging and see you later-ing in a manner very reminiscent of the end of summer camp, I’m positive we’re all bound for great and strange adventures. It is a group both smart and strong, and we are lucky to be where we are. More to come!
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