Monday, September 8, 2008

The Stomach Chronicles... And The Summer They Force Me to Blog About.

Housekeeping First:
1) Photo links are the right are updated
2) The photo albums from my summer travels are also linked within the blog text.



Video Blogging is Easier from amy williams on Vimeo.

As an independent girl who tries always to take responsibility for her own life, I firmly believe that I am in charge of my own happiness. No one and nothing can, or should as it so often is, dictate my state of well-being. And if I start to feel some sort of disconcerting influence that I somehow allowed to undesirably affect my life, I have the power to take the reins and change what needs changing in order to make things better. Nothing can control me but me… or so I thought before I came to Bulgaria. Today I realized this affirmation is sadly in need of amending. There is something else that has the power to make my life miserable which I have absolutely no influence over: my stomach.

I do not believe it is possible for anyone to understand a complete switch in stomach behavior unless they have lived in a “developing” country. So for many of you, this will seem like nonsense or just TMI (too much information). But with a record of excellent health, I am appalled to announce that I have thrown up or depended on the close proximity of a toilet in my sixteen months in Bulgaria more than in my entire life. Actually, make that entire life times like 300. My life revolves around the location and quality of toilets (hole vs. bowl, scale 1-10), the likelihood of food of making it through the digestive system smoothly and whether Pepto Bismo is agreeable to friendship. And given that I recently returned from Western Europe and life centered around none of the aforementioned issues, I have concluded that the problem is indeed Bulgaria. And as such, most of my best and most ridiculous stories, as well as those of my fellow PCVs, somehow seem to always involve pee, shit, throw up, or murder toilets as thoroughly disgusting and unfortunate as this is. Anyhow, today was a fine example of the unshakable force the stomach can become. As a reward for finding some cheddar cheese at the Billa, although it’s French and not very cheddar-like, I decided to treat myself to some breakfast burritos and the awesomely bad Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. All went as planned - the breakfast burritos prepared as normal and enjoyed to the fullest extent while I watched in horror the terrible acting I should have expected. I carried on with my very exciting day of missing college football-filled Saturdays in the fall and giving Janel a tutorial for illegally downloading movies now that she’s reentered the technology world. Eventually I headed out to the café to enjoy a lovely and hot Samokov afternoon and be around real people. Then suddenly after feeling completely normal all day, what I assume was a bad tomato or an evil egg (BG eggs do not fancy me and I do not advise eating two week-old Easter eggs unless you desire a stomach virus that will hang out for about a month) decided it did not like Amy’s stomach. And just like that I find myself locked in the Cinema Pizza bathroom trying to assess in which manner the tomato or egg would like to deal with the problem and leaving poor Kevin to once again, be an innocent bystander in the ongoing battle with digestion. Sooner than I knew possible, my day was over as I became house-ridden, unable to predict if the burrito’s mushroom or pepper planned on following suit.

And so you all can thank that tomato, egg and stomach for bringing you this blog today. I have had writer’s block. I cannot use the excuse I have no time, because despite the craziness that exists in my life here, I can always make time. I just do not. But thank you stomach for making me work through it. I have an entire summer to catch you all up on so here goes:

After the glory that was 80’s Prom, I went back to school to finish up the last two weeks (click for pictures) . And let me tell you, I was definitely ready for it to be over. No matter how many times I tried to regroup and reassess my attitude to the students and teaching, I never could seem to succeed. I was burnt out. I had a short fuse and was treating the kids with less patience and kindness than should ever occur. The end was a little bittersweet because I realized those terrible 8th graders who I hated the most were some of the funniest, most amusing kids I had ever met. And honestly, I would miss their limitless curiosity, uncontained craziness and hilarious antics and actions … though I do not miss how they still prank call me on Skype. As a year-end treat, I had a bad words day the final two classes mainly to have them teach me the Bulgarian translations so I could figure out when they were calling me a bitch. “But Miss Amy, if we tell you the bad words then you will know when we are talking about you!” Anyhow, informative as it was, the exercise eventually got out of hand as these kids were coming up with the most disgustingly perverse phrases I have ever heard that in no situation I could ever possibly come across would I ever think to employ. Finally it all was over (click for video) and I had three weeks before summer projects started. However, I am not sure you can call it vacation, for the parents were due to arrive…

Mom and dad showed up two days after school finished and parading them around Bulgaria proved to be no easier than stopping Vesko from drawing inappropriate pictures in permanent marker on the board or keeping Alex from writing “Sisi is a bitch”, though that was the one sentence she got grammatically correct all year. Right away I took them up to Govedartsi with Day and Janel to go horseback riding. They got the real Bulgarian experience rather quickly when after riding for about forty minutes and watching me fall my naughty horse (thank God for flexibility otherwise I would have no leg) a terrible storm came in and spooked the horses badly enough the guide had us stop and wait it out at some house with about six village men drinking rakia on the porch. Suddenly my parents were soaking wet and na gosting with strange men speaking a language that they did not understand and wondering how they got here. Welcome to Bulgaria kids! We hung around Samokov until after a long and painful decision process we chose to rent a car and road trip Bulgaria. It is amazing how much quicker travel is in Bulgaria with a car and not some questionable bus. We saw a lot more than I imagined we would circling from Sofia east to up and down the Black Sea and back west over to Plovdiv and pretty much everything in between, including a jaunt over to Boboshevo with the host family. And though the different travel attitudes caused a number of conflicts and little arguments, I think overall the experience was enjoyable. Even I got to see a number of things I had not and probably would not have without the parents and the rented car.

The most interesting was certainly the communist spaceship (Bozludja - which oddly I can find no information about) found on top of a mountain in central Bulgaria. We drove up and trespassed onto the grounds of this crazy building to find a pack of wild horses made their home near the front gate. Previously in Sofia some missionaries informed us of a broken window that allowed breaking in, which we did and climbed through sludge and rubble to explore the very eerie building. Apparently it was built by the communists as a place to motivate party members and leaders in a “rah rah” kind of way. The structure is made of concrete and was built up very quickly so as is often the case in Bulgaria, came down even quicker - everything inside was falling apart. But with remnants of great marble, tapestries and mosaics, it is evident the spaceship was once a place for the rich and powerful. Both in and outside communist mantas are plastered in Russian and Bulgarian with the hammer and sickle on the ceiling of the main ballroom. Whereas evidence of the communistic past is everywhere in this country, it does not seem nearly as real or direct as the spaceship allows it to be. Bozludja was a highlight, but the most beautiful place we saw was certainly the Cape Kaliakra, which is the most easterly point on Bulgaria’s Black Sea. In the sixteen months in Europe I have been in five different seas and one ocean can honestly say that the Black Sea is one of the cleanest and most beautiful. The water is a beautiful shade of aquamarine with a horizon not polluted by the sight of oil rigs, large ships or islands. Unfortunately, most of the coastline is overbuilt in a cheesy, over the top and ineffective Bulgarian kind of way.


Kaliakra Cape from amy williams on Vimeo.

Overall, my parents and I saw a lot of monasteries, rock carvings, mafia, murder hotel rooms, crazy drivers, illegal moves, shopska salads, churches, donkey carts, small villages and expensive ice cream vendors throughout the ten days. Though my parents are people I think should never be away from Hilton Hotels, air-conditioning and cable television, they did quite well for people who have not traveled much and certainly not to a country with a culture and life so very different from that in America. Despite my unwillingness to translate ridiculous requests or general unpleasantness and complaining that inevitably exist when spending more time with parents in ten days than throughout the last six years combined, I was very grateful to have them visit Bulgaria and share my life and experience here. I am so lucky and thankful to have them as parents, along with their constant and boundless love and support. I love you mom and dad! And hope that you took something more from this great country than stories about Mafia men in the gas station! Click here (1) and here (2) for pictures of their visit.

After the parental visit it was back to work for the month of July and honestly, I was looking forward to it. My summer projects were having an eco/English club and teaching dance classes. The eco club started off great with quite a lot of interest and participation from the kids, but as they all went on vacation and realized they did not want to do actual work, it was rather difficult to keep them interested. That club more often seemed to be trips to the swimming pool and Uno tournaments – they love that game.


Water Baby from amy williams on Vimeo.

However, the real gem of the summer projects were the dance classes. After marathon watching my new obsession So You Think You Can Dance, I realized how much I missed dance in my life and needed to get it back if even in the smallest way possible. I finally got over my lethargic laziness in terms of actually doing any sort of “community work” and made a little effort to make it happen. Lucky for me, I met a fantastic woman at the community center who helped me immensely, and now she is a great friend who let me come to her art classes! Anyhow, I am not a dance teacher and in no way claim to be, but having those classes was something fun and active for both the children and myself. And given that most of them had no prior experience, I did not feel quite as inadequate as I worried about feeling. The best part was that I could tangibly see success and improvement. As an education PCV, it’s very difficult to measure performance and success because in teaching, it is nearly impossible. Yes, a kid might improve a score on a test, but have I succeeded at helping them become a better student or better kid? Will they want to change their circumstance or become something great because of something they learned? Most of the time they seem to hate me and constantly misbehave so I get discouraged very easily. With the dance classes however, I was able to see the kids be excited each class and show up early to practice what they had learned the lesson before. I was able to see more grace in their arm movements with each class. More flexibility during stretching. More excitement as they became more confident in themselves. More kids show up each time. More curiosity from passerbys. Even though this PC experience is not about me and selfish reasons were certainly not why I came here, having that very apparent indicator of success gave me the motivation to keep chugging along this crazy road. Everyone including myself were sad that classes had to come to a close. But I am hoping to continue them during the school year, along with some other after school activities that take me out of the classroom and into the students’ lives. Altogether, the summer with the kids was great because it allowed me to form deeper relationships with them and just be a friend rather than that mean teacher who often has to punish entire classes.

The reason the summer projects ended was because August is vacation month all across Europe. This is something very different from the States, for US companies give two weeks or something terribly insufficient, but on this side of the pond, the entire month of August is reserved for vacation and people going back to where they came from. I headed west to begin the ridiculousness that was to be Spain, Portugal and England. I felt bad about planning a trip to expensive places that Westerners often go since I live so close to places I may not ever get another chance to visit. But whatever, I needed a RELEASE. I met Miss Meghan Priest, my former roommate from USC and Road Trip America 2006 partner in Barcelona. Right away I knew this was not to be a peaceful vacation. Basically we adjusted operational gears to the night shift. This means staying out until 7am, sleeping for 4-5 hours, avoiding astonishing heat by going to the beach or taking hours to shower and really beginning our day in the evening with activities such as shopping and eating. As such, we were not good tourists and did not do museums and tours or see nearly as much as Lonely Planet probably advises. But Meg and I do not work that way – for example, we are people who drive across the entire state of South Dakota and do not bother with a twenty-minute detour to take us to Mount Rushmore, the only noteworthy thing in that state. Anyhow, the rundown is as follows:

Night 1: Arrival and walk down La Rambla for a pre-assessment of what was to be our challenge. Bed early by 2:30a.

Day/Night 2: Beach all day. Walking along the marina to the port. Shopping. Mexican food. Night out with random friends met in the street in El Raval. Club with awesome cheesy music upstairs. Meg: Spanish boyfriend. Amy: not taking one for the team with the nice-but-slowly-became-sketchy wannabe Canadian boyfriend. Bed by 5:00a.

Day/Night 3: La Sagrada Familia. Shopping down Passeig de Gracia. Gaudi’s Casa Batllo. Starbucks. Vintage shopping in El Raval. La Rambla. Night out with awesome live music at Jazz Club. Early termination when hip hop and 9e drinks kill. Meet randoms on the street. Amy: beautiful, beautiful BEAUTIFUL French boyfriend. Meg: Amy’s French boyfriend’s most-likely-gay friend. Bed by 7:00a.

Day/Night 4: Beach. Beach massage by Filipino ladies. Late arrival to meeting spot for French boyfriends. Attempt to find French boyfriends at their hostel where we met Meg’s Brazilian boyfriend. No more French boyfriends. Night out with Brazilian boyfriend at a posh club full of really tall German investment bankers. Run in with Spanish boyfriend from Day 1 in the street. Spanish Boyfriend = butthurt. Anger calmed with crepes. Bed by 5:00a.

Day/Night 5: Gothic Quarter. Native American arts shop for Meg. Vintage shopping. La Rambla. Mexican food round 2. Night out at Fellini’s with a fantastic electro/rock mix. Find “safe” gay boyfriends who magically turn un-gay. Meg: gay boyfriend and then a million Brazilian boyfriends but ultimately, beautiful and long-haired Italian boyfriend in the street. Amy: gay boyfriend who pretends to be her husband to ward off skeezies but then turns skeezy and gets in fights with nice boys from Brussels and ruins her game with all the sweepies. Plus not taking one for the team with Meg’s Italian boyfriend’s old and fat (but rich) friend. Bed by 6:00a.

Day/Night 6: Lost for hours in no-mans land. Lebanese food. Gaudi’s Park Guell. Busker watching. Naps on benches. La Rambla. Accidental nakedness for an audience of packed hostel terrace (Dad, I know… you always tell me about the blinds. But we switched floors from the 11th to the 4th!!) Night out at posh clubs on the beach. Bad house music ruins dancing ability. Amy and Meg: Italian boyfriends on beach. Get rid of Italian boyfriends. Robbed by local thieves. Chase bad guys down on the beach. Find purse. Ride in undercover police car with Brazilian club bouncers to station. Spend rest of night/morning in police station. Bed by 8:00a.


Buskers in Park Guell from amy williams on Vimeo.

Day 7: Meg’s departure at 11:00a. Amy’s discovery of amazing vintage store that causes a great amount of money spend. Flight out to Portugal at 8:00p.

And so that was Spain. It was full of fun, dancing, shopping and ridiculous behavior reminiscent of the early London days. And we loved it. Pictures here.

After leaving Meg, I headed to Lisbon where I met Andrea, a friend from freshman year at USC with who I Something Corporate groupied for a bit ☺. It had been a long time since we had seen each other, but it was great fun. She lives in the Cascais area, which is about twenty-five minutes north of Lisbon in a more well-to-do and quite touristy part of Portugal. It is also right on the Atlantic Ocean, which was unbelievably gorgeous but far too cold to get into. Lisbon/Cascais was the first time since coming to Bulgaria that I felt like I was in a real, nicely developed place, mainly because it reminded me a lot of California. Right away I met Andrea’s fantastic friends who have all known each other since high school and remind me a lot of my crazy groups of friends. They were great company - all very witty, intelligent and funny. This part of my Western Europe excursion was definitely the more relaxing part; primarily because Andrea has a boyfriend which prevented a lot of the ridiculous man-hunting Meg and I got ourselves into. I also finally got a bit more sleep. We went to the beach, took a tour of the Cascais area, ate great seafood, hung out with her friends, watched the Olympics and went in to tour Lisbon for two days. Lisbon is a city that reminds me a lot of San Francisco – mainly because it is very hilly with beautifully bright colors and a different style of architecture. It is such a gorgeous city, and I am in love with the colorful tiling found everywhere. The entire city with the exception of a few buildings was destroyed in the Great Lisbon Earthquake of 1755 but I got to see some of the rare survivors. I saw a ton of stuff, which since I did a much better job at picture taking than in Barcelona is better documented through the pictures found here. When we were in Barcelona Meg commented that she could live there, but I wish she could have seen Lisbon and Portugal because she would certainly change her mind.

After Portugal I headed up to London to revisit the magic I know that city offers. Visiting London was kind of like going home, but not all the way. Meg is practically family to me and lives in a city I adore and have already carved my own special spots in, so it was just as good and beneficial as going to LA/Phx. After flying into Luton, I immediately noticed how brown everything is - at least compared to Portugal. But upon arrival in London with the exception of the rain and cold, I felt right at home with everything seeming normal and familiar. It was a relatively low-key visit, which seemed much longer on paper than it actually it was. I went with Meg to her Capoeria class and met some of her friends in Canary Wharf. We had American breakfast in Angel and perused some of the vintage stores in the area. I went busking with her (click for video) down on the South Bank and took pictures of the magic of London at night. I spent way, way too much money when we went up to Camden one day - I need to pay attention to the money signs! We also met up at the Walkabout with my friend Jason who I met years ago in the Gardening Club and his friend Dilan to enjoy an evening of dance moves made out of Olympic sports to eighties music. Jason and I got together another day to peruse my favorite, the Imperial War Museum and relish in the greatness of Brick Lane, which sadly, I did not spend nearly as much time in during my London stay years ago as I should have. Thank God when we were walking through there the millions of vintage stores were closed. He spent a year world traveling so we swapped some good stories. We eventually met Meg and Dilan in Shoreditch at some club that turned out to be sweepy central. One Sunday I got to go to church down in South Kens and see some old friends, which was fantastic after sixteen months of church in Bulgarian. But possibly the best part of the entire London stay was the hour before church when I just sat in Hyde Park, snacking on a sandwich while writing under the beautiful sun in an even more beautiful city. It has been a long time since I have been truly content like that. I decided that at some point in my life, I have to go back for longer. I have always believed you can make a home anywhere you go – that is not the place that hold happiness, but what you can make of it. But regardless of this belief, London has a very special magic. Check the pictures here.

Finally I headed home and oddly enough, saw three of my students from Bulgaria in the Gatwick airport. I had one day of rest/peace before I began another onslaught of craziness. I caught up with Kevin, had guests for a few days, went to my English friend Skye’s birthday in Beli Iskar and then headed to Pravets for Day and Kai’s birthday extravaganza. I am not sure how but that girl stuffed twenty people or something into her tiny apartment, but she did. We had a good Bobo reunion at the dinner where everyone was amazed/embarrassed at how loud we can become. There are lots of shrieks and giggles and the four of us trying to overpower each other with really loud and pitchy voices, but despite it all, we hear and understand everything that is being said. No one else can. It’s the special Bobo language. I love those girls and am so grateful I found people like them here in Bulgaria. And I love how we can spend an hour at dinner talking about Michael Bolton, awesomely bad movies or how Day and I completely lost our shit for Hanson/Butch Walker/Bush in the groupie kind of way in our younger years. Pictures of summer adventures in Bulgaria here.

I am now back in Samokov and back at work. It is crazy to think the summer is already over and school starts next week. I definitely need time to regroup, reassess and rethink my plan and strategy for this next year. They say the second year is easier, and it is already proving to be so. However, it is going to be much, much more work. I am teaching more classes than I would like or should, but we need another English teacher. I am also working on finding funding/grant for an after school program to help include Roma students and foster Bulgarian-Roma integration in after school activities. It will be cooking, dance classes, life skills classes and an art club. If I succeed, it will be wonderful. It is a lot of work and quite stressful, but I really want to make a difference at my school. If anyone has any leads on small grants or small project funding coming from the states (or anywhere for that matter), please let me know!

And lastly, I want to congratulate my girl Katy Perry, who I posted a video of a few months back, for completely taking the world my storm and blowing up. Yes, yes, many of you might completely hate her. Even I must admit that her new gimmicks are not nearly as enjoyable as the vintage Katy – I agree with Day, cherry chapstick has no taste! But I think she is awesome.



So now that Sara Bareilles and Katy have both hit the big time, I think my track record is quite good with predicting these things and so I offer you another I pull out of my bad of long time music loves: Matt Wertz. Now many of you have probably heard of this guy, because he definitely has a sizable following and has for some time. He tours like crazy – strangely enough, opening for Hanson these days. But I have loved him for years, ever since back in 2002 he played at KSCR, the USC college radio station I worked at. Sadly, I have only had the opportunity to see him play live one other time at the Troub in 2007 before I came here, but it was unbelievable. He releases his major label debut on Universal Republic next week, but you should certainly check out his earlier stuff. In the meantime:



And check out his buddies Dave Barnes, Justin Rosolino, Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers and Jon McLaughlin for some additional fabulous music along the same lines.

Anyway, I swear I will be a better blogger. If anything, a video blog because those are super easy to make. I love and miss and think about all of you all the time. I am grateful for your support and inspiration in my life. And I am grateful you want to be a part of mine, if only by reading my blog ☺ Please keep and touch and know I love you. 213.985.2877 is still open and available for all of your calls should you mind the 10 hour time difference (Cali time). And FIGHT ON USC TROJANS! Take those Buckeyes out!! (sorry Colin).

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