Alaskan Bulgarian

Life is a Collection of Group Photos

They're usually pretty fake and/or cheesy, these group photo things. And they're never part of the trip we remember. I don't ever recall the best part of a trip or holiday ever being that moment where everbody gathered, hugged for too long, kissed somebody they'd never kiss, and hoped that the moment would be over so they could go look at that lovely church over there, the one with all the gargoyles. We take group photos because they're scientific, specific, and irrefutable evidence that a certain collective was in a place at any given time. When I remember that gargoyle that made us all laugh, I'll remember who exactly was laughing with me because the group photo was taken just moments before. They are, these photos, incredibly practical little buggers. That doesn't really alter the fact that they're a bit of a pain to pull off. Everybody has to look good on any given shot or the whole thing needs to be done over again. The best person in a group photo is the one who doesn't care if the photo develops with his eyes closed.

What does all this have to do with anything? Well, compared to the number of them on my hard drive, I think a disproportionately small number of these things has made the long trip to the site in my year in Bulgaria. Every folder I have has at least one group photo, and usually a bunch more. So I thought I'd pull a flashback episode for the one year anniversary spectacular. A bit of a clipshow.

We started things in Strelcha, a small town somewhere in the middle of Bulgaria. This photo was probably taken the second day we were in Bulgaria, and apart from the odd perspective, it doesn't really show the immense confusion we were all in. We spent most of our time then exploring the town and figuring out why there were goats in the street, horses in parks, and statues at every corner. We even took pictures of most of them until we realized they were everywhere. Strelcha lasted maybe four days, and they were all fun, but it felt then like a year and I still remember it that way. I was wondering then how long two years would feel in Bulgaria. Then time started going much, much faster.

And by July I had a tan my Mom would have killed me about had she known (It was hot, and I wore sunscreen. But it was hot!). And a new temporary family to leave behind in another small Bulgarian town called Septemvri. Septemvri is only alive by the grace of remaining an express stop along the train line from Sofia to Burgas. The city grew out of the train station and when I walked down the street on weekends I literally saw tumbleweeds blowing across the road. When it rained in the afternoons the sidewalks flowed with muddy, brown filth. The students there didn't really know much in the way of English and teaching the first few lessons was a shock.

Still, great times, and it's a mild pity the Peace Corps hasn't sent another training group back there yet. The Gagarovs (the family I stayed with) were good to me and kept me more than well-fed during those first few months when Bulgarian food didn't quite stick with me yet. The kid, Slavi, was sometimes a pain, but just as often meant relaxation after a long day. I could toss around a ball with him and he'd have a great time while I just chilled. I also had the best vertical of my life in Silistra. The rims there were all about a foot short and everybody played soccer defense. I very rarely did anything but dunk during games and when I got to Silistra I could dunk on just about any basket. Bulgarian winter, though, has since killed my legs and it's a slow struggle getting them back in time for summer. Life was good in Septemvri, and time flew.

Then, in Silistra, real Peace Corps life started. After the summer of doing little ended, I suddenly had a full schedule of classes to teach. Thinking back on it, the students were eerily quiet the first few days of class. Maybe I thought I scared them, I don't know, but something made me dip a little too quickly into the friendly zone. The balance has worked itself from that foothold ever since. Much of the time, work revolves around getting them to be quiet, and then teaching. But it's all fun, they're good kids mostly, and deep down they all really want to learn English.

Still, the weeks can be stressful sometimes, and when they get that way I depend on the weekends and venting to all the other volunteers to clam things down. Everybody has horror stories. Sometimes, often, they're worse than mine. In the end I'm pretty lucky to be teaching at a language school, where the smartest kids wind up and go to learn. But when the students just seem to be having an off day, week, or month and Bulgaria drives me nuts, it's always nice to feel American once in a while, even if it's only for a couple of days.

So, for Christmas and New Year's Kate, Jeff, Ryan, and I went to Athens and Crete. Good friends having a good time and acting like tourists. I'm not sure there was a day where I never once thought of Bulgaria, but whatever I was thinking, it never harmed the relaxation. Most days we spent walking endlessly, sometimes with our packs. Sometimes we just sat in cafes, talked, and read books and magazines. We even had some fun with New Yorker poems. Then we took a long busride home across the border and went back to life in the heart of Bulgarian winter. A life of poor heating, cold students, and an everlasting headcold. Also, very, very little basketball.

Finally, winter has ended and spring is in full swing and for the first time in my life I realized that that meant it was time to celebrate my birthday. And that pretty much meant a break from reality too (see below).

You know, for all this talk of breaking from Peace Corps reality, you'd think it was impossible here. Miserable even. It isn't. Every day is at the very least interesting and it's a rare day when something new doesn't crop up. The students seem to like me, I think. Just today the twelfth class gave a light clap at a fine end to a good lecture and discussion. The eighth classes, when given something interesting to do, complain about the need to do something in class when the could be playing cards, then seem to have fun with what I give them (Expect a summary of "The Egg Experiment" early next week). And the eleventh class...well, I like the eleventh class.

That's the thing about group photos. Whether or not you have reason, you're usually always smiling. Well, fortunately there's been a lot to smile about in the year here, and big grins have come easily. Makes the image of another year here a lot brighter, it does.

Posted by Rob at April 21, 2004 07:44 PM