We discuss communism.

Last week as part of our “community skills” studying, we had to have a community meeting about Bulgaria’s communist past. As a disclaimer, we only were able to get our own family members to come, they were all older women, and were all from Boboshevo. So it wasn’t a very diverse background.

We heard some pretty contradictory stuff. At first, they all said that life was better with communism. They had no fear of the next day, they all had enough money, life was good. But upon further discussion, they told us that Boboshevo had been used for tobacco production at the time. Harvesting tobacco is dirty and arduous, and they weren’t well-compensated for their work, considering how difficult it was. But at least they knew they would have a job. They knew they would get pensions when they were old. They didn’t have worry about paying for hospital visits. They didn’t like the censorship, but these are ordinary small town folk. They didn’t have a lot to complain about, anyway.

With democracy, all of this has changed. My host mother receives a pension from the government: 100 leva (~US$65) a month. Things are cheaper here in Bulgaria than the US, but not that much. One of the other host moms has no income. She was a nurse, was laid off, and no one will hire her because she’s too old – but she’s not old enough to receive a pension. She lives on the charity of her children. I don’t know what people who don’t have children do.

We asked them if they would prefer to return to communism. They accurately answered that it would be impossible, and any way, they don’t want to. They want the democracy that they have to work better. Bulgaria has hundreds of political parties, and since democracy arrived, no one party has held power for more than one term. Everyone at different levels of government is a member of different parties, and they seem to be incapable of working together. They argue and argue and nothing gets done, and then the next election comes along and a new party is elected in, and the cycle begins again.

I don’t know.

Tarator.

Is it hot where you are? It’s been broiling here in Bulgaria. Here’s a nice easy traditional Bulgarian recipe for a hot day.

You will need:

one container of plain yogurt
one cucumber
a couple green onions
some garlic, if you like
dill, fresh if possible
salt

Pour the container of yogurt into a bowl. Fill the empty container with water, and pour it into the bowl as well. Mix it up. Grate the cucumber with a cheese grater and add the shreds to the bowl. Chop your green onions finely, and add them. Season with garlic, dill, and a pinch of salt. Mix up, and you have tarator, a delicious cold soup, great for cooling down.

Pavel Banya

I’ve just come back from visiting Pavel Banya, my permanent site. It’s a very small town, about 3100 people, right in the center of Bulgaria, in what’s called the Rose Valley. It’s known for its mineral hot springs, which supposedly have some kind of healing properties. There are, I think six or seven public swimming pools, all naturally heated. Though the land is mostly flat in the town, the Stara Planina (Old Mountains) sit along the northern horizon. Very pretty. There’s a large public park along the edge of town, about two blocks from my future apartment. Kazanluck, population ~70,000 is about twenty minutes away, and there are a couple volunteers working there.

Despite its small size, Pavel Banya is a pretty bustling place, with ten or so restaurants and cafes. There’s a toy store, a few clothing shops, and a yarn shop! Yesterday after school, I sat on a bench and watched the kids play in the park. Very nice.

As for school, I don’t know. My counterpart (the Bulgarian English teacher I’ll be working with) seems very nice, but she doesn’t really speak that much English. She works directly from the book because she pretty much has to – she doesn’t have the resources to improvise or do more interesting lessons. I wanted to teach the second graders a song, and she told me “There aren’t any songs in this lesson”. Well, of course not! The lesson is entirely from an insipid textbook! But I know lots of songs and games that could make learning more fun! She told me that the kids don’t remember things from one lesson to another, and honestly, I can see why; the teacher isn’t able to make English interesting or memorable at all. It’s not really her fault – every English teacher I’ve met so far in Bulgaria is at about her level of fluency. Her English is about as good as my Spanish, basically. She can hold a simple conversation, but anything complex is impossible, and she can’t understand me at all when I speak at normal speed. (I read a text to the fifth graders yesterday and had to read it absurdly slowly for them to understand at all. Even at a normally slow speed with careful enunciation was too fast. Good luck trying to get a native English speaker talk like that outside of a classroom.) I want to introduce new, more fun ideas into the classroom. I hope my counterpart isn’t too averse to that.

My apartment is…not really ready to live in. It doesn’t have plumbing yet, but they assure me it’ll be finished by July 1. So I had to use the Turkish toilet. Ewwww. Not a fan. I think it’ll be nice when it’s finished though, and it’s very close to everything.

Oh, my school has both a primary and high school in it. I sat in on the eleventh grade English class, and I have to say, am so glad I’m a primary teacher! The high school English teacher (who doesn’t speak any better English than my counterpart) didn’t even attempt to control them. They seemed like good kids, but didn’t pay her any attention at all, even making phone calls in class! To my horror, she described the ethnic background of her students to me right there! At least now I know there’s an ethnic Turkish village nearby Pavel Banya.

At the moment, I’m in Dupnitsa. I took a bus from Pavel Banya to Sofia this morning, then another bus that stopped here en route to Blagoevgrad – the bus driver basically let me off on the side of the highway, yikes! But I made my way to the Peace Corps office, where I found mail waiting for me! Yay! Thanks, mom and dad! Then I hit the internet club, so I could write this while it was still fresh in my head.

Will update again when I can.

The Peace Corps is a government agency.

In case you’ve forgotten.

I have to say, the bureacracy thing…not my favorite. I’m at hub right now, and I pretty much hate it. See, my “class”, B[ulgaria]19 has 39 people. (Down from 41.) During training, we’re in small groups in towns and villages surrounding Dupnitsa, our “hub site”. There are five of us in Boboshevo, which is about 20 minutes south of Dupnitsa. Every two weeks, B19 gets together for a couple days of meetings and training sessions. The best part is the technical training, ie, discussing teaching methods and ideas. It’s really useful, and Angelina, the trainer, is very good. Most everything else is a waste of time.

They treat us like kids. The unfortunate thing is, there’s a reason for this: Peace Corps Bulgaria has gotten in a lot of trouble. Maybe if we were in Africa or the jungles of South America, it wouldn’t be like this, but Bulgaria is a pretty posh location, by Peace Corps standards. There are lots of bars and discos and many, many opportunities to do stupid things that will get you sent home. I understand that 16 people got sent home last year, 8 in one fell swoop. The ambassador got on the PC director’s case, and now we have to be on best behavior. So, I am annoyed at the Peace Corps for making us sit through these lectures that treat us like children (and I told them so in my feedback form), and I am annoyed at the people who screwed up and got everyone put under close scrutiny.

It’s frustrating, and I’m pretty sure this babying was the prime reason the two people who’ve already quit did so. Personally, I think they made the wrong decision, though. I’m really loving the teaching – which is what we’re here for – and am excited to get started at my permanent site. I wish they had stuck with it longer, given it more of a chance. I think (hope) when we get to our permanent sites, the Big Brother act will relax. This really is an amazing opportunity.

My host mom gets a talking to.

So, I live with my host mom, right? She is really nice and sweet and generous and…smothering. Everywhere we walked, she clutched my arm like I was about to make a break for freedom. One day, I’d intended to wake up early, but when my alarm clock went off, I decided I needed to sleep for another couple hours. Unfortunately, my host mother heard the alarm clock, and pounded on my door for half an hour until I got up, not unlike when my dad used to try to wake my sister up for school. Except I am 27 years old and responsible for my own decisions. Gotta say, not really a fan of this sort of protective behavior. My language trainer, Yulia, offered to talk to her for me, since she speaks no English and my Bulgarian is, to say the least, limited. But I told her not to, because I didn’t want to offend her or upset her.

Fortunately for me, Yulia took matters into her own hands, and when she had an opportunity, she gently told my host mom that “Americans don’t like to be touched so much”. And now she lets me walk around untethered! Ah, bliss!

I saw a dog killed the other day. Horrible horrible horrible. This bus slammed right into the poor doggy and its body got trapped under the wheels. The stuff of nightmares.

There’s a yard in Boboshevo that I love. It has these funny little white goats, chickens, turkeys, and one dog. I took a picture of the yard one day. A few days later, I walked past the yard with my host mother and she mimed taking a picture. Ha! I have no idea how she knew I took that picture, but that’s Boboshevo for you. Can’t do anything without people noticing.

Found out my permanent site today, incidentally – I’ll be in Pavel Vania, smack dab in the middle of the country. I go to visit on Wednesday! Exciting!