I can hardly keep up with myself!

So, dear readers, I've been a bit busy as of late. Last weekend I went on an overnight hike to the Seven Rila Lakes in the Rila mountains. I went with a Peace Corps group, which was fun even though I never thought that a hike with 50 people could be fun. The lakes are high in the Rila Mountains, and lovely enough to be a spiritual experience. Even after so much walking, I felt refreshed and happy at the end. I have a ton of photos, and will post them when my technological situation permits.

On Monday my training group met with one of the vice-mayors of the municipality for dinner and talk of our community project. She is extremely supportive of our project (installing educational signs on a local eco-trail with help from local youth), and even managed to score free supplies for us.

In Tuesday we met with teachers and students to talk about the project and environmental ethics. Our educational focus with them is how to protect nature while enjoying its beauty.

On Wednesday we traveled to our hub-site to have (...drum roll please...) more meetings! Actually most of the meetings are important (Peace Corps staff, if you are reading, the exceptions should be made clear on my evaluation forms), and some are actually interesting and informative. Even so, at this point in my training, I am beginning to tire of them. I suppose that is the nature of this beast we call training; it is supposed to be hard, and I'd likely gripe about it being too easy if it wasn't.

As much as I feel ready to be finished with training, I must admit that it is working. I am now able to have a conversation in Bulgarian, even if it is a bit elementary and my conversation partner helps correct my pronunciation! Another landmark: I am starting to understand silly advertising slogans on billboards. I know they are pretty much the least advanced form of the written language in any culture, but it is much more than I understood even a short time ago (baby steps here folks!).

On Thursday (after more meetings in the morning), I traveled with my friend Will to visit a currently serving volunteer named Shane in Stara Zagora. It was nice to meet other volunteers (its a bigger city and so we met another PCV who is done and about to be on his way back to America-COS-ing in PC-speak) and hear their perspectives. It made me even more pumped to get to know people in my permanent site and start my work!

On Friday we visited a bird rehabilitation center and environmental NGO where Shane works, and asked him about environmental work in Bulgaria. The organization that he works for, called Green Balkans, does some great work. The bird rehabilitation facility is remarkable. Many important, rare or endangered species live there. They have even had successes with captive breeding and releases, which is not easy to do. Apparently though, my future organization (the Bulgarian Society for the Protection of Birds) and Green Balkans have a somewhat tense relationship. I'm not sure of the history of the spat, nor would I dare to speculate in a such a public forum. So far I respect both organizations and their work. There are some examples of the two organizations cooperating; let's hope they increase in the future. In my book, there is no such thing as doing too much conservation work.

Now, after several hours on three different buses, I am back in my training site. After that week, venturing to coffee with a friend or doing a little homework will be the extent of my day tomorrow!

Dog Guilt

I have made friends with a stray dog in town. I first met him one evening a few weeks ago when I was walking home. I was strolling along in the not-too-fast-not-too-slow manner that is the custom here when I the shadow of a wagging tail behind mine. I turned around to investigate and outstretched my hand to introduce myself to a dignified and unassuming but definitely dirty dog. He was a mutt-ish wiry black with white whiskers. As I was walking along he licked a snack wrapper and drank from a puddle, but followed me to my neighborhood.

At the entrance to my neighborhood, a pack of the neighborhood dogs chased him away. I have since seen him dodging cars and sniffing around for food. He sometimes follows me; I think he can sense that I am a dog person, even though I never feed him. Bulgarians will kick and shout at stray dogs, but my heart is never in it when I attempt to do the same. It is more of a foot nudge. He followed me all the way home today, only to be chased away by Rexi, the dog of the house (he takes his duty of defending us from canine intruders very seriously).

In America we romanticize stray dogs, happily adopt them from no-kill shelters, and maybe even hope that one will ever so meekly follow us home. Here bony, flea-bitten stray dogs are common with nary a dogcatcher in sight. There is no way for me to adopt this dog while I live with my host family, and even to adopt another stray when I get to Svishtov would be wildly irresponsible considering my eventual departure. Still, I feel a little twinge of "dog guilt" when I see my stray.

Reason #53 why my host grandfather rules

My host grandfather is retired, but definitely keeps active during the day. Today, for example, I came home for lunch and he has just come back from a 2 hour walk in the forest, in the rain, to gather mushrooms. And gather mushrooms he did! They were mega-portabella sized monsters. I truly hope we have some sort of mushroom themed dish this evening for supper.

My host family has been extremely helpful in my language learning. They are always speaking to me, whether I understand or not. Wierdly enough I am starting to understand them (My language trainer's tutalge is helping, I'm sure). Last night we has a dicussion about Bulgarian history, a rather elementary one, but still much more that I would have though possible at this point.

They also just genrally dote on me. My host sister painted my fingernails last night, and today before I purchased my umbrella we passed on the street and she offered me hers. Pretty selfless for an 11 year old. My host grandfather always makes sure that I have something to eat when I come home for lunch. He usually doesn't cook for me, but in a culture where gender roles are much more traditional that what I am used to, it means a lot that he did once!

Flitting around in Svishtov

My permanent site pretty much rules. Svishtov, the town where I will live is a small university city. It has friendly people, an amazing history and my organization (the Bulgarian Society for the Protection of Birds) is great.

I arrived in Svishtov on Wednesday afternoon, and then promptly had a "pochifka" (bulgarian for nap, vacation, time out, weekend, etc, from what I can gather). Then I met up with my counterpart (Emil) and went to a local establishment for dinner and to watch the Bulgaria-Luxenburg football (think European) match. Luckily, BG won. I will have to introduce my new Bulgarian friends to Big Papi and the other patron saints of Red Sox Nation.

My apartment, which I stayed in, is pretty classy for a 6th story walk up. It is definitely worth the walk, as I have a lovely view of the Danube River, lots of light, a sweet kitchen and, as a super bonus, a living room with a pretty stylish red faux-fur decorating scheme (not sarcastic, when I am able to post pictures you will see). A previous volunteer (who is actually one of my trainers now) lived there and pimped it out pretty well.

Thursday, I went to the office to read up on the English website. It looks like I will be helping implement some of the conservation activities, as well as working on environmental education, and possibly some international partnerships with other birding organizations (ex: the Romanian Ornithological Society). Luckily the EU recognizes that birds and wildlife don't particularly adhere to borders. I also met more friends and volunteers for the organization (AKA the Bird Boys), mostly teenage boys with a bent for birds and natural history. I also met my land lady, who sat me down for cake and coffee and promptly inquired about my love life, my tastes in food, my family in America, etc. Oh, and furthermore according to her, I must be 17 and not 27 because I am so pretty.

After that, I met my site mate who teaches English. We went for a walk around with a Bulgarian friend (Tiso, not sure of the spelling in either the Cyrillic or Latin alphabet here) to see a giant sundial on the top of a hill; you stand in the middle on a spot determined by what month it is and your shadow reveals the time. Later, we met up with Emil and went to see the Roman ruins near town, as well a memorial to the Russian soldiers who crossed the Danube first at Svishtov during the Russo-Turkish war. Svishtov was the first free city in Bulgaria (the Russians set Bulgaria free from the Ottoman Empire), a fact of which Svishtovians are extremely proud.

Finally to cap off the night we went to a concert at the sundial. The performers were these international musicians who were traveling down the Danube by boat with a bunch of French tourists (with whom I spoke some pretty broken French at a restaurant when they were confused by the Cyrillic Menu. It was pretty heinous, I kept putting Bulgarian words into French sentences, but at least they knew they were ordering spaghetti). There were musicians from: Albania, Morocco, Romania, Algeria, Spain, Italy, France, Cameroon and more countries that I don't remember. The opening act was a local folk-dance troupe, followed by a collaboration of the international musicians with a local choir. They sang a heavily accented, but enthusiastic version of, "When the Saints Go Marching In," which was an extremely surreal moment for me to hear a pretty quintessentially American tune with nary an American in sight.

The next day we met at the office early with two bird boys and headed to the field to install nest boxes for the European Rollers, an endangered species here. We pretty much just sent boys up trees on a ladder with the boxes and a bunch of nails and they hammered away. At first, they being guys, they didn't want me to help carry the ladder, but I didn't listen to them and helped anyways. While I didn't hammer at any of the nest-boxes, I became the GPS lady to mark each box site. Ten nest-boxes and a fashionably leisurely lunch break later, I felt like one of the dudes. I am pretty psyched for more field work, I must admit.

I am now back in my training site. My host family greeted me with hugs and kisses and food and drink and a zillion questions about my new site. I am feeling torn now between wanting to prolong my wonderfully traditional rural experience with my host family who I adore and moving on to do work that I am really exited about about in a gem of a small city (aka "The Pearl of the Danube.")

Bird Nerd Alert!

So, this will be brief. I am currently visiting my permanent site, which is a small city on the Danube River. I can see Romania from my apartment.

I have been placed with an environmental NGO that focuses on bird conservation. I will be getting to do field work, as well as work on outreach and education. I must say that I am beyond pumped to assume my life as a bird nerd. More later, dear readers!

An eventful Saturday

Yesterday I woke up thinking that I might eventually meander to the town celebration. My host family had other plans. We ended up going to Rila monastery, the biggest and most famous monastery in Bulgaria. So, my host dad drove me, my host mom and my host sister there. When we arrived, there was a service underway in the monastery church.

We went in for the service, which involves lots of chanting, incense, and blessing of the congregation by the priest. There are also parts of the service that are performed behind a screen in the front of the church, called the iconostasis, I believe. In any case, this is where the altar is located. The congregation stands, and crosses itself at appropriate junctures in the service (which seems to be rather frequent). Orthodox Christians cross themselves opposite the way that Catholics and Anglicans do, (forehead, stomach, right, left rather than left than right) and they also almost always cross themselves three times in a row. We also lit candles, a bit part of Orthodox liturgy. At the end of the service the congregation was allowed to come to the front of the church to venerate the icons, which involves kissing them, placing coins on them, crossing ones self, leaving small offerings of clothing (my host dad left socks I think) or simply touching them. It is up to the individual pilgrim. We also saw the bones of a saint. I am really glad that I got to go to the monastery with a Bulgarian family. I got to experience it from more of an insiders perspective rather than as a tourist.

Afterwards, I got to look around in the monastery courtyard, buy post cards and check out some of the artwork. The artwork is mostly in the form of frescoes on the walls. My favorite was a huge series of panels where angels and demons were duking it out. I was able to photograph some of it and will certainly post it when I am able to figure out the logistics of doing so. Then my host family bought bread from a bakery nearby, which is apparently pretty famous in Bulgaria. It is all handmade (and delicious).

After our return, I went downtown to meet with friends and mosey over to the village sabora (an annual celebration). Sabora was held outside with music and the ever present grilled meat stand. The main event of sabora is the preparation of a MONSTROUS amount of a soup called courban. Basically they slaughter a goat or lamb (or several from what I saw) and boil the meat in huge cauldrons over an open fire. Peppers, onions, tomatoes and spices are also added. When the soup is ready, the village priest says a prayer over it and sprinkles holy water over each cauldron (in this case about 25 cauldrons) and the people. Homemade bread is also blessed with holy water. After that, the attendees circle around the cauldrons with buckets, the corban is ladled into them and everyone takes it home with them. All the grandmothers (aka babas) distribute their blessed bread too. The idea (I think) is to bless the health of the community.

Basically, I experienced a lot of Orthodox Christian customs yesterday. It is so different from anything I have ever seen in terms of religion (even in terms of Christianity). I still have a lot to learn about this part of the culture, and to think, I haven't even seen any of the Muslim traditions yet!

Update on PC stuff

Whilst I have been spinning yarns of everyday life in rural Bulgaria, the process of my training and SITE SELECTION have been in the works. So, in addition to language training, we also have technical training, which is on the job type stuff. We've been learning about the culture of NGO's, the local government and people in general. It seems that a big source of misunderstanding in Bulgaria is the transition from the traditionally very hierarchical government and compliant populace to the new transparent and egalitarian EU member government with an actively participating populace. We have also been brushing up on community based project management and implementation with trainings, and the design of a project at our training site. We are still designing our project; I will post more on it when we have it nailed down.

Last week, I had an interview with the Community and Organizational Development (COD) staff, as the environmental education program is small here and housed in the COD department. Even though it initially seemed weird, it makes sense that the environment program be housed in COD, as many economic opportunities in Bulgaria are linked to sustainable ecotourism. Also, the COD staff are ROCKSTARS, and I feel fortunate to have them as bosses. In my interview, they indicated that I will likely be working in either a national park or a bird conservation NGO. I am quite happy with either prospect as they will involve being getting to learn about local natural history, field work, environmental education in its myriad forms (guided hikes, classroom presentations, fielding questions, etc.), work on building partnerships, publicity and more. Basically, I will never be bored!

I find out my placement on Monday, get to meet my counterpart (Peace Corps lingo for the Bulgarian person I will be working with) shortly thereafter, and then on Wednesday will be traveling to my permanent site for a few day visit. YOWSERS, am I pumped!

Canning Bonanza

I thought I'd devote a bit of blog space to canning, which is currently a major activity in rural Bulgaria. Many fresh vegetables are just not available period here in the winter time (unlike the U.S. where you can always get tomatoes, even if they are overpriced, mealy and flavorless in January). In fact, I've heard that in some remote villages they simply run out of things as basic as potatoes in late winter. Of course there are commercially canned items available for purchase (which I will likely become all to familiar with when I move out to my permanent site in October), but my host family seems to be very proud of THEIR homemade items (with good reason).

My host family has a very productive garden and some fruit trees as well. They keep any glass jar that they buy at the store, for use in canning. They have a large canning "cauldron" in the back yard that they light a fire under to boil the jars. The canning cauldron is located next to the rakia still which deserves its own entry. Canned items so far include: tomatoes with parsley, "compote" which is large chunks of fruit with simple syrup and "lutenitsa" a BG version of ketchup that included peppers and carrots as well as tomato (I'm a huge fan). All the adults helped out, turning their outdoor kitchen into a small scale factory.

In general household chores here are much more time consuming. It also seems to be a point of pride among Bulgarian (particularly rural BG) homemakers. For example, the wash cannot simply be hung; in our region of Bulgaria, the wash is hung sorted by size AND color. Or furthermore, my host mother baked a cake today. It had two layers (one vanilla, one chocolate) which she then cut and switched into bulls eye patterns to create and alternating checker pattern when the cake was cut. She poured simple syrup over the cake to soak in, topped it with homemade butter cream frosting, sprinkles and thinly sliced peach wedges. I assumed the cake might be for a party, but no, it was dessert for lunch, cut into literally minutes after it was finished!