It’s been a hot minute since I last spilled my brain-words into an update. As always, it feels a bit like tipping over a can of alphabet soup and attempting to form a sensible story from the saucy mess— although often, I suspect, the original jumble of soggy letters might be more cohesive than what I actually end up writing here. Nevertheless, my fingers continue to hit the keys (mostly the backspace, as Sharon likes to throw in her two cents here and there). As far as hot minutes go, it’s actually been quite cold. And more like a couple of months, though the months do seem to pass like minutes sometimes. Recounting even a taste of everything that’s gone on is a hilariously lofty goal that I’ll never accomplish, so instead, I’ll share some highlights and lowlights and call it fair. To begin with the silly and trivial: winter. I’m just about over it. The calendar says spring, but the world outside hasn’t seemed to hear the news yet. Although enchanting in its early, pure, powdery white form, the snow did not take long to reach the point that scientists call disgusting. On the worst days, streets and sidewalks full of slushy muck made even a short trip of a few blocks into a comical misadventure; slipping and sliding and jingling all the way on dirty ground-Slurpee, I arrived to most destinations as a wet-booted, pruney toed, and slightly more frustrated version of myself. The snow melted away for about a week, bringing sunshine and teasingly perfect weather in the 50s and 60s Fahrenheit, along with a decidedly improved mood on the part of this bumbling Floridian. But then, just as my fingers and toes were starting to thaw… you guessed it, the snow came back. With great vengeance, and comically so, in the first official week of spring. Cue the sliding and the minute misery. Things are just now back to warming up again, and to celebrate, I am jetting off with two friends at the end of this week toward Germany and France (where it looks like we will get rained on every single day). In summary, Mother Nature laughs at me. Onto school-related things. Life in the classroom week after week brings continued challenge, but engaging with the students in other ways offers equal and constant reward. Thursday conversation groups— an only very recent success— are flourishing, so much so that we always annex tables and chairs from other areas of the small cafe, and may soon have to find a new rendezvous point for fear of irking the management. It turns out that a large, sometimes loud group of English speaking youngins isn’t always what everyone hopes to share a space with while enjoying their cup of coffee. Oddly enough. Another recent addition to my weeks has come about almost accidentally, and takes the form of an hour-long Spanish lesson with three sweet 8th graders every Wednesday after school. It’s a perfect time of fellowship and fun with a language I already love, and it feels like the exact opposite of work because these pupils are sharp as tacks and want to learn all that they can. At our first lesson, they all showed up with brand new notebooks that they had gotten specifically for learning Spanish, and they told me they hope to fill them up with words and phrases by the time the year ends. A tall order, I told them, but we’ll certainly do our best. Putting myself in their 14-year-old shoes, I can hardly think of a single thing that would make me want to stick around longer after 7 hours at school— especially not any sort of lesson. But these three are incredible in their enthusiasm, and even at my most Oscar the Grouch-like, I’ll admit it’s contagious. Whenever they forget a verb or don’t know what to say during our practice, they like to substitute commonly known, yet irrelevant, Spanish words— the occasional yo estoy burrito or me llamo piñata is a swing and a hit at making everyone laugh. I only wish I had known earlier in the year that they wanted to learn, but the formation of our own little Español club is certainly better late than never. Sometimes a full day’s worth of scooting around still leaves me with energy at bedtime. Others, I depart from the Colosseum after teaching only 4 or 5 classes— ripped clothing, dirt on my face, and enthusiasm somewhere deep down the toilet pipe— and am decidedly ready to sleep for three years without interruption. That becomes even more comical when I consider all of the actual teachers, who come every day with iron-like resolve to prepare students for important things like exams and certificates, and who work at their job for years, and don’t have Fridays off, and deal with far more rules and pressures and bureaucracy… I have it easy. Still, without much hesitation, I know that teaching is not for me. And as monotonous and discouraging and plain tiring as that can sometimes make the weekdays feel, I would also do good to remember that this year has been a great chance to figure that out with training wheels on. And at this point— 100% over trying to speak louder than the loud kids, and 110% out of lesson plan ideas— it’s easy, so easy, to look toward the end with heart-shaped cartoon eyes. Yet the same end will, too, bring an end to a year of adventures and companionship and such great joys. So, in that way, the end can take its time. On the topic of adventure, not many a weekend has found me at home in Vidin since January, as lots of travel has ensued. A February trip to Spain was sunny, blue-skied, tapas-filled and relaxing; the country left its mark on me, with green parks and Gaudí architecture and the sweet clarity of its beautiful language, and I returned the favor by leaving my cellular phone in a Barcelona taxi. And I’d leave it all over again if I could repeat the good times and re-see the pretty sights with my 3 familiar amigos. Recent weekend trips to Poland and Ukraine have made me happy to be alive— and specifically alive in Eastern Europe, where weekend trips to Poland and Ukraine is a geographically possible sentence to utter. Krakow’s highlights included a quaint and walkable old town, meat and cheese pirogies, and a sobering but enlightening tour through Auschwitz and Birkenau. The camps are chillingly well-preserved; a damning testament to the absolute extent of evil that mankind can achieve. The somber mood was only made better by a sunset over the frozen Vistula River, a good travel companion, and more pirogies. Kiev surpassed all expectations; a snow-covered haven of parks and overlooks, amazing food and cheap chocolate bars, and brightly coloured buildings and golden-domed churches that looked like someone must have woken up at the crack of dawn to re-paint them every morning. I would return in a heartbeat, especially in the spring, to see what it looks like freed from its ubiquitous blanket of white snow. However, the snowy conditions worked to our favor for a day trip to Chernobyl, making the former Soviet-era settlements seem even more eerie in their abandonment. Visiting the site of the 1986 nuclear disaster was something straight out of a history textbook, and was easily one of the top experiences I’ve had in Europe so far. From grocery stores with scattered pieces of bent and rusting shopping carts, to kindergartens with dolls and books still on the floor, everything seemed to be just as it was when the area was evacuated. It was certainly nothing I ever thought I’d see in my lifetime. And just as quickly, of course, it's back to ordinary life again. The tiniest things sometimes get me through the day, and other times, even tinier ones can drag me down. Spending a lot of time with my own thoughts often leads me to the conclusion that things are terrible and the world is positively ending; but, before too long, the dial always turns back around. A conversation with a friend from home, a genuine compliment on a (usually mediocre) lesson at school, a letter in the mail or a text from my sisters, the pizza lady's gracious 18th attempt to teach me how to say corn in Bulgarian; mercy pops its head up in a lot of unexpected places. On my most recent bus trip to Sofia— a route which I could now probably drive myself, with both eyes closed and one hand busy picking my nose— I was armed with my usual gear: a book, a snack, my headphones, and total readiness to conk out against the window and ignore the world. But, climbing on board, I was surprised by six of my students and two teachers from my school, who were also heading to the capital for different reasons (French language competition, soccer match, visiting family), and were all too excited to see me. When one of them beckoned me into the open seat next to her, I smiled and obliged, but internally pouted at the implicit agreement to chat with her for the next four hours instead of withdraw into my own sleepy and unbothered corner. Yet, as surely as life often flicks me in the nose when I think I know what to expect, it turned out to be such an entertaining time full of stories about her hilarious little sister (a regular guest at our conversation groups— and a total hit, at that), and thoughts on life in general. By the time we hit the halfway point, I told her I was feeling tired, and we both decided to rest our eyes. Five minutes into my slumber, she tapped me softly on the arm to wake me up and let me know that, if I would be more comfortable, I could lean over and sleep on her shoulder. And there's one of those tiny things that saves the day. These students— and the teachers, and so many other people around— treat me like such a friend, and I can't imagine a life where I didn't get this chance to know them.
3 Comments
Richard Tucker
4/4/2018 12:47:37 pm
Amanda: Judy Luckett has just told me of your blog and forwarded a copy. I wish I had known about it sooner. However, I got to trace many months of your experiences such that I almost feel like I've travelled with you. Your narrative of your journey is related vividly, but I was most impressed by your introspective perspectives, and a wonderful sense of humor.
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john ciesko
4/21/2018 11:08:09 am
met your mom at recent life event. we have much in common. Diana and I booked a 17 day trip to include Warsaw , Krakow, Budapest, Vienna, Bratislava, Prague and Berlin. Our trip begins in Warsaw on September 25 th. Sorry we will miss one another. Have been keeping in touch with your travels & teaching escapades. Will think of you as we travel.
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Ted Goodwin
6/1/2018 10:58:53 am
Found your postings today and reviewed some of them Except for a few pitfalls, it sounds like you are really enjoying your adventures over there. Keep at it.
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