Today was the last day of the school year. It's hard to tell, with so many cultural and language barriers, how much impact I have had on the people I've met, taught, and worked with for the past two years.
I'm a pretty quiet person. I'm more apt to sit and observe than jump into ongoing conversations. My natural tendencies compounded with the fact that I was tentative about using Romanian while most of my colleagues were tentative about using English meant that it took a long time for me to consistently engage in conversations with many of the other teachers at my schools.
Although not being able to fully express myself was frustrating at times, I was always at least able to smile and greet everyone with a friendly and polite "Buna dimineata" or a "Buna zuia." Not to brag, but I think I was able to make very good impressions with many of the older teachers just by being polite and upbeat. And in a work place environment that is always helpful.
Although I never sought out attention, I had it just for being different and other. I never felt this was a negative at my schools. As one of my colleagues put it today, "Julie was the only teacher able to walk through the school without a name tag and still be known by everyone." In my small town, everyone knows I'm the American girl and in my school, everyone knows I'm the English teacher who is a bit odd (but in a good way).
This week, as I have been collecting and making many goodbyes, even many of my students and colleagues that I was not particularly close to wanted to express their gratitude for my time here and for the work I have done. I hope my presence has brought some awareness of things that are odd or "other" and in the most non-cliched sense possible, that some of them might have an increased interest in something new. And, of course, it is always nice to be appreciated.
People always say that teachers are under-appreciated. And these two years have definitely been some of the most challenging of my life. I admire but do not envy those that make teaching their life's devotion. I wish every teacher at both of my schools all the best.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Oh The Places We'll Go
The Dr. Seuss book, "Oh, The Places You'll Go" was the theme of my high school all-night grad party. I've been thinking about the message of that story again as both the 12th graders here are graduating and I'm preparing to end my service. I have now been in Romania for over two years and yes, I've experienced many of the cliched feeling of affecting change, of not, and being changed as well. I think the most important goal I have for myself coming out of this experience is to remember an honest account of my experiences here, the difficult and the gratifying.
Wednesday of this week was the graduation ceremony for 12 C, a class I taught last year who's home room teacher is my counterpart. These kids are pretty great. I always enjoyed teaching them and this year, when I wasn't their teacher, it was always nice to stop and chat for a few minutes when I saw them in school or in town. Since students spend all their classes together for their four years of high school, they form very strong bonds with their classmates and their teachers. The school has a number of graduation robes that the students borrow for their ceremony. 12 C had made a video of their class saying goodbye and sharing memories, set of course to Vitamin C's "Friends Forever." Their home room teacher gave a short speech and then various students said a little about each of their teachers. Everyone gets very emotional (me less so, since I was using most of my concentration trying to translate the rapid Romanian in my head).
Friday was Children's Day here in Romania. After the 12th graders passed the "key" to the school onto the 11th graders, there was a festival celebrating the children in the town. There were dance troops, guitar ensembles, art projects, and fun all around. My favorite was an act of 5 or 6 year old dancers. The little girls had cheer-leading uniforms and pom-poms and had learned a cute rudimentary dance. The best part was that there was one little boy who was extremely enthusiastic but always a beat or two behind the girls in the dance. The whole thing was incredibly adorable and I found myself smiling through the entire four-minute production.
Friday evening was the banquet or "prom" for the 12th grade. It was held in the reception hall at a bed and breakfast in a neighboring town. All the students take advantage of the occasion and get very dressed up. The girls wore cocktail dresses or gowns (many of them even brought a second one to change into!) and towering stiletto heels. The boys care just as much about their outfits and there was an abundance of purple dress shirts and bow ties. I'm always entertained by awkward interactions so the people-watching was wonderful. The students find it very amusing to be at a party with all their teachers. Since the party didn't start until nine, everyone ate and danced until the wee hours. Luckily, I was able to duck out around three a.m. so I didn't have to stay until five or six like some of the other chaperones.
There are still three weeks of school for the other students, so now is the time to concentrate on finishing the school year and continue checking things off my checklist in preparation of returning to the States.
Wednesday of this week was the graduation ceremony for 12 C, a class I taught last year who's home room teacher is my counterpart. These kids are pretty great. I always enjoyed teaching them and this year, when I wasn't their teacher, it was always nice to stop and chat for a few minutes when I saw them in school or in town. Since students spend all their classes together for their four years of high school, they form very strong bonds with their classmates and their teachers. The school has a number of graduation robes that the students borrow for their ceremony. 12 C had made a video of their class saying goodbye and sharing memories, set of course to Vitamin C's "Friends Forever." Their home room teacher gave a short speech and then various students said a little about each of their teachers. Everyone gets very emotional (me less so, since I was using most of my concentration trying to translate the rapid Romanian in my head).
Friday was Children's Day here in Romania. After the 12th graders passed the "key" to the school onto the 11th graders, there was a festival celebrating the children in the town. There were dance troops, guitar ensembles, art projects, and fun all around. My favorite was an act of 5 or 6 year old dancers. The little girls had cheer-leading uniforms and pom-poms and had learned a cute rudimentary dance. The best part was that there was one little boy who was extremely enthusiastic but always a beat or two behind the girls in the dance. The whole thing was incredibly adorable and I found myself smiling through the entire four-minute production.
Friday evening was the banquet or "prom" for the 12th grade. It was held in the reception hall at a bed and breakfast in a neighboring town. All the students take advantage of the occasion and get very dressed up. The girls wore cocktail dresses or gowns (many of them even brought a second one to change into!) and towering stiletto heels. The boys care just as much about their outfits and there was an abundance of purple dress shirts and bow ties. I'm always entertained by awkward interactions so the people-watching was wonderful. The students find it very amusing to be at a party with all their teachers. Since the party didn't start until nine, everyone ate and danced until the wee hours. Luckily, I was able to duck out around three a.m. so I didn't have to stay until five or six like some of the other chaperones.
There are still three weeks of school for the other students, so now is the time to concentrate on finishing the school year and continue checking things off my checklist in preparation of returning to the States.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Incorporating Music and Cultural Exchange In the Classroom
Anyone who knows me knows how much I love music. I listen to it all the time and will happily recommend songs and bands I like to anyone who is interested. I'm always looking for interesting ways to incorporate music into my lessons and broaden the musical horizons of my students.
The past couple weeks, I have been giving my middle school students verbal exams. This is a good way to test their listening and speaking skills while also making it more difficult to cheat! I prepared questions and conversation started adequate for each grade level (though discrepancies within classes were more difficult to manage). Some of my 5th graders know more English than some of my 8th graders. I asked questions with increasing difficulty and allowed for basic answers versus more embellished ones. Overall, both I and my students were pretty happy with the process. I tried to make the testing atmosphere as relaxed and conversation-like as possible, since I know how frightening and frustrating speaking tests can be.
I first considered conducting the tests outside the door of the classroom to prevent students from overhearing the questions, but that would have been asking for chaos to reign within the classroom. Then I considered having students leave the classroom after they had completed the test, but again, that did not give me adequate supervision. Finally, I decided on playing some music for the rest of the class while having the individual tests at the front of the room.
I gave the entire class a small-group activity to due for the period and called students up one by one. Some were extremely nervous and would answer my first question, "How old are you?" with "Fine." I would patiently repeat the question, making sure to articulate the words very clearly and slowly, until (hopefully) they understood. After the first question, most students seemed much more comfortable.
Besides testing their listening and speaking abilities, I also wanted to share some music that I enjoy. Most of my students have very different music tastes than I do. I'm glad they enjoy pop and rock and metal. I also want to take some time to expose them to types of music they may otherwise never be exposed to. During my 8th grade classes, I played the new album from the band fun., called Some Nights. I thought the music might have elements that are similar to things they already enjoy but also have elements and sounds they have never heard before. And I was successful!
At the end of class, when students usually come up to the teacher's desk to pester me about their grade, my student, Beni, brought me a USB drive and asked if I could put the album on it for him. Just one student, but it really made my day.
I have a little over three months left here in Romania, and I'm going to try to have as many of these little moments as I can.
The past couple weeks, I have been giving my middle school students verbal exams. This is a good way to test their listening and speaking skills while also making it more difficult to cheat! I prepared questions and conversation started adequate for each grade level (though discrepancies within classes were more difficult to manage). Some of my 5th graders know more English than some of my 8th graders. I asked questions with increasing difficulty and allowed for basic answers versus more embellished ones. Overall, both I and my students were pretty happy with the process. I tried to make the testing atmosphere as relaxed and conversation-like as possible, since I know how frightening and frustrating speaking tests can be.
I first considered conducting the tests outside the door of the classroom to prevent students from overhearing the questions, but that would have been asking for chaos to reign within the classroom. Then I considered having students leave the classroom after they had completed the test, but again, that did not give me adequate supervision. Finally, I decided on playing some music for the rest of the class while having the individual tests at the front of the room.
I gave the entire class a small-group activity to due for the period and called students up one by one. Some were extremely nervous and would answer my first question, "How old are you?" with "Fine." I would patiently repeat the question, making sure to articulate the words very clearly and slowly, until (hopefully) they understood. After the first question, most students seemed much more comfortable.
Besides testing their listening and speaking abilities, I also wanted to share some music that I enjoy. Most of my students have very different music tastes than I do. I'm glad they enjoy pop and rock and metal. I also want to take some time to expose them to types of music they may otherwise never be exposed to. During my 8th grade classes, I played the new album from the band fun., called Some Nights. I thought the music might have elements that are similar to things they already enjoy but also have elements and sounds they have never heard before. And I was successful!
At the end of class, when students usually come up to the teacher's desk to pester me about their grade, my student, Beni, brought me a USB drive and asked if I could put the album on it for him. Just one student, but it really made my day.
I have a little over three months left here in Romania, and I'm going to try to have as many of these little moments as I can.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Women's Day and the Power of the Internet
Today is International Women's Day. We don't celebrate it in the US. I compared it to Mother's Day for those of my colleagues that asked today. Women are presented with flowers, candies, or small gifts given to show appreciation. Out teacher's lounge smelled like a greenhouse and looked a lot like one too.
We had a nice luncheon at the high school to celebrate and I got to have a half-Romanian, half-English conversation with the six-year-old granddaughter of my friend, the librarian. (I teach my classes in the library, so we have become friends.)
The flowers and celebratory feelings were a wonderful reminder that spring is right around the corner even though there is still snow on the ground.
Also today, I had a few conversations about the power of the internet in light of the recent social media fervor surrounding Invisible Children's Stop Kony campaign. Mostly we are looking at the issue as a potential teaching topic by relating the video depicting the atrocities Kony and his army are waging in Sub-Saharan Africa with issues also relevant in Romania, like child sex-trafficking.
I am, as of yet, unconvinced of the effectiveness viral campaigns will have on political outcomes. Unlike many other Americans, I have been aware of Kony and the Invisible Children since 2006 when some of the former child-soldiers came and spoke at my college. There are so many things going on in the world that we, as Americans, don't ever consider in our day-to-day lives.
I hope that an internet awareness campaign of this magnitude can put pressure on politicians to pursue certain policies, but I am skeptical of how long public pressure will last. The internet today allows us answers automatically and as a result, our attention spans have decreased dramatically. Unfortunately, I am afraid that once most people post a message on Twitter or a link on Facebook, they will feel that have done their part. I hope to be proven wrong over the next few weeks, and their is widespread public pressure for the US and other governments to continue to pursue Kony.
Another concern I have with this type of viral campaign is that when we paint one man as "the bad guy," which Kony most certainly is, most people tend to forget to look out for other potential negatives coming in to fill the gaps. Kony is not the only problem and not the only issue that deserves to get so much attention. No matter what Rihanna has to tweet about the topic.
I sincerely hope that this first venture into organized social media campaigning for political outcomes results in a model that can be molded to bring awareness, action, and accountability to governments and the public alike.
We had a nice luncheon at the high school to celebrate and I got to have a half-Romanian, half-English conversation with the six-year-old granddaughter of my friend, the librarian. (I teach my classes in the library, so we have become friends.)
The flowers and celebratory feelings were a wonderful reminder that spring is right around the corner even though there is still snow on the ground.
Also today, I had a few conversations about the power of the internet in light of the recent social media fervor surrounding Invisible Children's Stop Kony campaign. Mostly we are looking at the issue as a potential teaching topic by relating the video depicting the atrocities Kony and his army are waging in Sub-Saharan Africa with issues also relevant in Romania, like child sex-trafficking.
I am, as of yet, unconvinced of the effectiveness viral campaigns will have on political outcomes. Unlike many other Americans, I have been aware of Kony and the Invisible Children since 2006 when some of the former child-soldiers came and spoke at my college. There are so many things going on in the world that we, as Americans, don't ever consider in our day-to-day lives.
I hope that an internet awareness campaign of this magnitude can put pressure on politicians to pursue certain policies, but I am skeptical of how long public pressure will last. The internet today allows us answers automatically and as a result, our attention spans have decreased dramatically. Unfortunately, I am afraid that once most people post a message on Twitter or a link on Facebook, they will feel that have done their part. I hope to be proven wrong over the next few weeks, and their is widespread public pressure for the US and other governments to continue to pursue Kony.
Another concern I have with this type of viral campaign is that when we paint one man as "the bad guy," which Kony most certainly is, most people tend to forget to look out for other potential negatives coming in to fill the gaps. Kony is not the only problem and not the only issue that deserves to get so much attention. No matter what Rihanna has to tweet about the topic.
I sincerely hope that this first venture into organized social media campaigning for political outcomes results in a model that can be molded to bring awareness, action, and accountability to governments and the public alike.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Valentine's Day Lesson
For Valentine's Day on Tuesday I planned a lesson for one of my 5th grade classes. We learned some vocabulary, did a word search, and had a Valentine's Day card-making competition.
The ability level of this class is incredibly varied. I have a handful of students who are very good at English. I have some students who try very hard but struggle. And then I have a lot of students who seem to have no interest in learning English.
So many of these kids are so adorable, I get lots of hugs every time I see them in the hallway. I also think there is a game for students to see if I will say Hello back to every student who says Hello to me. (So far, I think I have.)
I think most of the kids really enjoyed the lesson. I'm always grateful when my students enjoy something I spent time working on.
Here are some pictures of their Valentine's Day creations:
The ability level of this class is incredibly varied. I have a handful of students who are very good at English. I have some students who try very hard but struggle. And then I have a lot of students who seem to have no interest in learning English.
So many of these kids are so adorable, I get lots of hugs every time I see them in the hallway. I also think there is a game for students to see if I will say Hello back to every student who says Hello to me. (So far, I think I have.)
I think most of the kids really enjoyed the lesson. I'm always grateful when my students enjoy something I spent time working on.
Here are some pictures of their Valentine's Day creations:
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Grocery Shopping in a Romanian Town
Last month a supermarket opened in my town. Not only has this changed what I buy and what I pay at site, but it got me thinking about how I shop for groceries here in Romania. I buy my produce from a small market near my apartment or at the weekly piata. Vegetables there are very cheap, especially in the summer, and locally grown. Specialty items, like bananas and lettuce, need to be bought at a grocery store, but produce staples are found at the piata.
I buy meat, mostly chicken, and eggs from the butcher shop around the corner. If I want to use a chicken breast for dinner or I need 3 eggs for baking, I can easily buy those from the shop at a much lower price than at a supermarket.
If I need a small loaf of bread, small because otherwise it will go stale before I can eat it all, I buy it from the bakery across the street. I know the shop ladies and we have short conversations about my day whenever I go in there.
I now go to the Kaufland if I need standards like milk or rice, or if I’m craving something a little more like home. They have soy sauce and salsa, even if the “hot” flavor is more of a “mild.” When I leave to do some shopping, I make sure I have my Chico bag rolled up in my purse to carry things home in and my 50 bani piece in my pocket to use a cart in the store. If I’m lucky I won’t be accosted by a child begging at the entrance and can just swap someone my coin for their cart with a smile and an “O zi buna” (have a nice day.)
It has become a routine for me to giggle at the amazed looks on customers faces when they see how big and bright the store is inside and to assist struggling elderly shoppers with printing out the price tickets as they try to weigh their fruits and vegetables. I’ve had much more practice maneuvering carts through aisles and efficiently loading the belt with my purchases in the check-out line.
I limit each errand to no more than my one reusable bag so that the ten minute walk home over the train tracks isn’t too cumbersome. I think about loading up a car with a dozen bags or even an entire cart full of bulk goods at Costco and I both miss it and see how I really don’t need any more than what is in that one bag.
I buy meat, mostly chicken, and eggs from the butcher shop around the corner. If I want to use a chicken breast for dinner or I need 3 eggs for baking, I can easily buy those from the shop at a much lower price than at a supermarket.
If I need a small loaf of bread, small because otherwise it will go stale before I can eat it all, I buy it from the bakery across the street. I know the shop ladies and we have short conversations about my day whenever I go in there.
I now go to the Kaufland if I need standards like milk or rice, or if I’m craving something a little more like home. They have soy sauce and salsa, even if the “hot” flavor is more of a “mild.” When I leave to do some shopping, I make sure I have my Chico bag rolled up in my purse to carry things home in and my 50 bani piece in my pocket to use a cart in the store. If I’m lucky I won’t be accosted by a child begging at the entrance and can just swap someone my coin for their cart with a smile and an “O zi buna” (have a nice day.)
It has become a routine for me to giggle at the amazed looks on customers faces when they see how big and bright the store is inside and to assist struggling elderly shoppers with printing out the price tickets as they try to weigh their fruits and vegetables. I’ve had much more practice maneuvering carts through aisles and efficiently loading the belt with my purchases in the check-out line.
I limit each errand to no more than my one reusable bag so that the ten minute walk home over the train tracks isn’t too cumbersome. I think about loading up a car with a dozen bags or even an entire cart full of bulk goods at Costco and I both miss it and see how I really don’t need any more than what is in that one bag.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Istanbul: I’ve Been Grand Bazaared
After going west for Christmas, I decided to venture east, well southeast, after the New Year. I began my journey by taking three trains to get to Bucharest, via another volunteer’s site, and then a plane to Istanbul.
I was excited to visit Istanbul because it is so different from any other place I’ve ever visited. Just flying into the city allowed me to see how vast, sprawling and crowded it is. There are people everywhere. Given the travelling we had to do to get there, we decided to have an easy first day after checking into our hostel. We took the tram across the bridge to Taksim and enjoyed a gorgeous sunset from the Galata Tower balcony. This city is truly breathtaking and the Tower provides a wonderful panorama of the entire landscape.
Wednesday was our sightseeing day in the old part of the city, Sultanahmet. Our first stop was the Hagia Sophia. First, a Byzantine Church originally built in 360 AD, then a mosque from 1453 until 1931. I spent most of my visit trying to rack my brain for the date of the Nicene Council, 325 AD for those of you wondering, to know if the original Church was built as purely Christian or as Orthodox after the split from Rome. I was correct in my guess that it was originally an Orthodox Byzantine Cathedral. The building itself is mind-blowing. I could easily see how it was the largest cathedral in the world for thousands of years. The inside is a peculiar melding of Christian and Islamic elements, from the ancient mosaics in the upper gallery to the large Arabic language paintings attached to the unbelievable domed ceiling.
While waiting for the Blue Mosque to open from one of the five daily sessions for prayer, we wandered around Hippodrome Park. It was amazing to see an ancient Serpent column from Delphi standing next to an ancient Egyptian obelisk and the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain. The juxtaposition of these items made me feel just how old this part of the world is. We had a light lunch and then found the Basilica Cistern, which is an underground water system. Of note, the mysterious upside down Medusa head sculptures. There is so much influence from Rome and Greece in Istanbul. It truly was and is a place where East meets West.
The Blue Mosque and the Süleymaniye Mosque, which we visited the following day, we extremely interesting since they are both beautiful historical structures as well as continue to be fully functioning religious meeting places. When prayers are not taking place, visitors are welcome to enter and gawk at the beautiful and intricate Iznik tiles that decorate the walls and ceilings. It was especially wonderful to be outside the Mosques when the call to prayer started. It was interestingly calming and surprising every time we heard it.
On Thursday, we decided to brave the Grand Bazaar and do some souvenir shopping. By this point we were pretty used to saying no to carpet sellers and we knew what we wanted to buy before we entered, ready to haggle ourselves a good deal. Aisles and aisles of scarves, rugs, leather goods, and jewelry; the Grand Bazaar is a place you can easily get lost in. After some success, we ventured to the Spice Bazaar, as we were told there were more touristy wears to be bought there. The colors and crowd of the Spice Bazaar were overwhelming and very much what I had imagined. We made some quick purchases and escaped back over the river to Taksim for dinner.
We left a major attraction for our last morning in Istanbul: Topkapi Palace. Once the residence for Ottoman Sultans, now it is a museum where you could spend hours closely examining tiled and painted murals, the royal jewel collection, and a collection of royal garments, all on the beautifully manicured grounds of the palace. I could have spent all day there exploring. My favorite highlights included the tiles of the Circumcision Room and Baghdad Kiosk in the fourth courtyard, which also displayed beautiful views across the Bosphorus to the Asia side of the city. Another favorite was the Privy Chamber which housed many holy relics including Moses’ staff and Joseph’s turban; the cynic in me questions the legitimacy of both these items.
This short visit to Istanbul was enough to whet my appetite for the region. I would love to explore more of Turkey and its intricate and varied history and culture.
I was excited to visit Istanbul because it is so different from any other place I’ve ever visited. Just flying into the city allowed me to see how vast, sprawling and crowded it is. There are people everywhere. Given the travelling we had to do to get there, we decided to have an easy first day after checking into our hostel. We took the tram across the bridge to Taksim and enjoyed a gorgeous sunset from the Galata Tower balcony. This city is truly breathtaking and the Tower provides a wonderful panorama of the entire landscape.
Wednesday was our sightseeing day in the old part of the city, Sultanahmet. Our first stop was the Hagia Sophia. First, a Byzantine Church originally built in 360 AD, then a mosque from 1453 until 1931. I spent most of my visit trying to rack my brain for the date of the Nicene Council, 325 AD for those of you wondering, to know if the original Church was built as purely Christian or as Orthodox after the split from Rome. I was correct in my guess that it was originally an Orthodox Byzantine Cathedral. The building itself is mind-blowing. I could easily see how it was the largest cathedral in the world for thousands of years. The inside is a peculiar melding of Christian and Islamic elements, from the ancient mosaics in the upper gallery to the large Arabic language paintings attached to the unbelievable domed ceiling.
While waiting for the Blue Mosque to open from one of the five daily sessions for prayer, we wandered around Hippodrome Park. It was amazing to see an ancient Serpent column from Delphi standing next to an ancient Egyptian obelisk and the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain. The juxtaposition of these items made me feel just how old this part of the world is. We had a light lunch and then found the Basilica Cistern, which is an underground water system. Of note, the mysterious upside down Medusa head sculptures. There is so much influence from Rome and Greece in Istanbul. It truly was and is a place where East meets West.
The Blue Mosque and the Süleymaniye Mosque, which we visited the following day, we extremely interesting since they are both beautiful historical structures as well as continue to be fully functioning religious meeting places. When prayers are not taking place, visitors are welcome to enter and gawk at the beautiful and intricate Iznik tiles that decorate the walls and ceilings. It was especially wonderful to be outside the Mosques when the call to prayer started. It was interestingly calming and surprising every time we heard it.
On Thursday, we decided to brave the Grand Bazaar and do some souvenir shopping. By this point we were pretty used to saying no to carpet sellers and we knew what we wanted to buy before we entered, ready to haggle ourselves a good deal. Aisles and aisles of scarves, rugs, leather goods, and jewelry; the Grand Bazaar is a place you can easily get lost in. After some success, we ventured to the Spice Bazaar, as we were told there were more touristy wears to be bought there. The colors and crowd of the Spice Bazaar were overwhelming and very much what I had imagined. We made some quick purchases and escaped back over the river to Taksim for dinner.
We left a major attraction for our last morning in Istanbul: Topkapi Palace. Once the residence for Ottoman Sultans, now it is a museum where you could spend hours closely examining tiled and painted murals, the royal jewel collection, and a collection of royal garments, all on the beautifully manicured grounds of the palace. I could have spent all day there exploring. My favorite highlights included the tiles of the Circumcision Room and Baghdad Kiosk in the fourth courtyard, which also displayed beautiful views across the Bosphorus to the Asia side of the city. Another favorite was the Privy Chamber which housed many holy relics including Moses’ staff and Joseph’s turban; the cynic in me questions the legitimacy of both these items.
This short visit to Istanbul was enough to whet my appetite for the region. I would love to explore more of Turkey and its intricate and varied history and culture.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Dancing Bears: Take II
Last year I had my first experience with the traditional Bear Dance Festival in my town with a few other volunteers. So this year, I was grateful to share this outrageous and interesting tradition with a few other volunteers.
Traditionally, Romanians in this part of the country caught bears when they were young and taught them to dance to the beat of a drum using some Pavlovian conditionals and hot coals. Once that practice was outlawed, villagers decided to just kill bears and dance themselves, wearing the bear skins.
Marta was very excited to witness the event after hearing my descriptions of last year. She took the early morning train and we made cinnamon rolls for when the other volunteers in our county arrived. From my balcony we got to witness one of the bear troops coming down from the hills to town for the competition.
After breakfast, we ventured into the center of town where the contest was taking place. We watched some bear dances, a goat dance, and a skit performed by some old men in wigs that I couldn’t understand for the life of me. I showed the other volunteers around my site and we met a few of my students dressed in their bear outfits.
When I see my students outside of class at a function like this one, it reminds me of the bigger picture that Peace Corps is involved with. My students may not all be learning perfect English, but hopefully they will remember the year or two they had that American teacher who was so different. It is incredibly empowering to know that you are broadening the horizons of children just by being yourself. What seems completely normal to me is sometimes something completely foreign to my students. Sharing those ideas and experiences is much more important than perfect grammar or pronunciation.
This is such an isolated and special tradition. I am so grateful that I was placed here so that I got to experience it and all the kindness I have been shown from the people of my town.
Traditionally, Romanians in this part of the country caught bears when they were young and taught them to dance to the beat of a drum using some Pavlovian conditionals and hot coals. Once that practice was outlawed, villagers decided to just kill bears and dance themselves, wearing the bear skins.
Marta was very excited to witness the event after hearing my descriptions of last year. She took the early morning train and we made cinnamon rolls for when the other volunteers in our county arrived. From my balcony we got to witness one of the bear troops coming down from the hills to town for the competition.
After breakfast, we ventured into the center of town where the contest was taking place. We watched some bear dances, a goat dance, and a skit performed by some old men in wigs that I couldn’t understand for the life of me. I showed the other volunteers around my site and we met a few of my students dressed in their bear outfits.
When I see my students outside of class at a function like this one, it reminds me of the bigger picture that Peace Corps is involved with. My students may not all be learning perfect English, but hopefully they will remember the year or two they had that American teacher who was so different. It is incredibly empowering to know that you are broadening the horizons of children just by being yourself. What seems completely normal to me is sometimes something completely foreign to my students. Sharing those ideas and experiences is much more important than perfect grammar or pronunciation.
This is such an isolated and special tradition. I am so grateful that I was placed here so that I got to experience it and all the kindness I have been shown from the people of my town.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Budapest: Have You Lost That Christmas Feeling?
Recent conversations with fellow Volunteers have allowed me to conclude that we all have similar feelings of stagnation at this point in our service. As birthdays and holidays, big events like weddings, births, and deaths; we are reminded that while we have been here, in Romania, with basically the same routine for a year and a half, life has continued on without us. Now, technology has allowed us to stay in touch more easily than ever before, so when we do return home, it won’t be a big shock, rather it will feel like we are two years behind schedule.
To combat the lackluster feeling of last year, spending Christmas alone in Romania, Marta and I decided to venture west to Hungary. We had heard great things about Budapest and were excited to visit the city for the holidays. I hoped snow and lights and shoppers and that special Christmas feeling.
What I learned was threefold. One, Budapest is FREEZING in December, whether there is snow or not. Two, travelling at Christmas allows you to meet other tourists travelling at Christmas while you all bemoan nothing being open on the actual Day. Finally, three, that special Christmas feeling cannot be concocted by anything other than being with family, no matter what Macy’s, Apple and Times Square want you to believe.
Although it doesn’t feel like I had a Christmas, I did have a splendid time in a new exciting place with a wonderful friend and travel buddy. To begin, we channeled Betty and Judy of White Christmas and booked a sleeping car on a night train to Budapest. Let me tell you, American trains in the 1950s may have been more comfortable than Romanian trains in 2011. It was certainly an experience; one I don’t really wish to repeat.
Arriving on the morning of the 23rd, we checked in and ventured out into the freezing cold fog. Every inch of me was thankful for the long underwear my Dad gifted me with last year. We perused the Great Hall Market for trinkets, passing up the fresh produce and deli cuts, tried and failed to pronounce anything in Hungarian, and enjoyed a light lunch by splitting a gravy-filled baked potato. Our hotel was right off the main shopping road, so we followed it down to the Christmas market at Vörösmarty Square. Little booths with handicrafts ringed trees decorated with lights and pavilions selling traditional Hungarian food and, of course purchased some mulled wine in a commemorative festival mug. My favorite sighting was a Hungarian Church choir performing Joyful, Joyful with a large middle-aged man taking the Lauryn Hill lead.
We decided to spend Christmas Eve partaking in one of Budapest’s famous past-times. Equipped with a voucher from our hotel, we spent the morning and early afternoon popping in and out of various thermal pools at the Szechenyi Bath House. A hundred year old building in the middle of the city park holds three outdoor pools, my favorite, and fifteen indoor ones, ranging from lukewarm pools to extremely hot saunas. After pruning for a few hours and feeling thoroughly refreshed we ventured through the park, stopping at Vajdahunyad Castle and Hero’s Square before dinner and an early return to our hotel to get ready for a Christmas Eve church service.
Marta discovered a magazine article about an English-speaking Scottish Presbyterian Church in Budapest with an interesting history and a timely 11:30 p.m. service we could attend. After spotting the street St. Columba’s was on earlier that day, we were confident that we could walk there, giving ourselves an hour for any complications. Needless to say, it was difficult to find. Communism had stripped many religious buildings of any indication that they were, in deed, churches, so we walked by it a few times before Marta found the small plaque indicating it was what we were looking for.
Since we were a few minutes late, we decided to just sneak in and sit in the back. This is the part in the movie where the doors, all three of them, squeak really loudly when you open them. Then you open the last door to the actual sanctuary and instead of a congregation of 90 families as the article had stated; there are ten people sitting in a semi-circle around the altar table. And, of course, everyone turns to stare at the two sniffling American women as they try to take off their gloves and hats without too much commotion and make their way up the aisle to the chairs the minister rushed to add dead-center to the circle.
Luckily, after our abrupt entrance, we jumped right into the most awkward rendition of O Come O Come Emmanuel I have ever participated in and a children’s sermon, complete with puppet, for the one child in attendance. The highlight of the service was when the minister stopped and restarted Still the Night, the British version of Silent Night, because even he flubbed the alternative lyrics.
Christmas Day was our only clear day, which made it perfect for crossing the many bridges of the Danube over to the Buda side of the city. Buda Castle and Palace are high on a hill that overlooks the river and Pest beyond. My favorite was the Gothic Matthias Church with its intricate carvings and amazing tiled roof. Build into the hill below is the Fisherman’s Bastion which afforded us some great views across the Hungary’s Parliament building.
We spent another day and a half wandering the streets of Pest, enjoying the Christmas markets and relaxing. It was a great way to detox from the semester and enjoy a different culture for a few days.
To combat the lackluster feeling of last year, spending Christmas alone in Romania, Marta and I decided to venture west to Hungary. We had heard great things about Budapest and were excited to visit the city for the holidays. I hoped snow and lights and shoppers and that special Christmas feeling.
What I learned was threefold. One, Budapest is FREEZING in December, whether there is snow or not. Two, travelling at Christmas allows you to meet other tourists travelling at Christmas while you all bemoan nothing being open on the actual Day. Finally, three, that special Christmas feeling cannot be concocted by anything other than being with family, no matter what Macy’s, Apple and Times Square want you to believe.
Although it doesn’t feel like I had a Christmas, I did have a splendid time in a new exciting place with a wonderful friend and travel buddy. To begin, we channeled Betty and Judy of White Christmas and booked a sleeping car on a night train to Budapest. Let me tell you, American trains in the 1950s may have been more comfortable than Romanian trains in 2011. It was certainly an experience; one I don’t really wish to repeat.
Arriving on the morning of the 23rd, we checked in and ventured out into the freezing cold fog. Every inch of me was thankful for the long underwear my Dad gifted me with last year. We perused the Great Hall Market for trinkets, passing up the fresh produce and deli cuts, tried and failed to pronounce anything in Hungarian, and enjoyed a light lunch by splitting a gravy-filled baked potato. Our hotel was right off the main shopping road, so we followed it down to the Christmas market at Vörösmarty Square. Little booths with handicrafts ringed trees decorated with lights and pavilions selling traditional Hungarian food and, of course purchased some mulled wine in a commemorative festival mug. My favorite sighting was a Hungarian Church choir performing Joyful, Joyful with a large middle-aged man taking the Lauryn Hill lead.
We decided to spend Christmas Eve partaking in one of Budapest’s famous past-times. Equipped with a voucher from our hotel, we spent the morning and early afternoon popping in and out of various thermal pools at the Szechenyi Bath House. A hundred year old building in the middle of the city park holds three outdoor pools, my favorite, and fifteen indoor ones, ranging from lukewarm pools to extremely hot saunas. After pruning for a few hours and feeling thoroughly refreshed we ventured through the park, stopping at Vajdahunyad Castle and Hero’s Square before dinner and an early return to our hotel to get ready for a Christmas Eve church service.
Marta discovered a magazine article about an English-speaking Scottish Presbyterian Church in Budapest with an interesting history and a timely 11:30 p.m. service we could attend. After spotting the street St. Columba’s was on earlier that day, we were confident that we could walk there, giving ourselves an hour for any complications. Needless to say, it was difficult to find. Communism had stripped many religious buildings of any indication that they were, in deed, churches, so we walked by it a few times before Marta found the small plaque indicating it was what we were looking for.
Since we were a few minutes late, we decided to just sneak in and sit in the back. This is the part in the movie where the doors, all three of them, squeak really loudly when you open them. Then you open the last door to the actual sanctuary and instead of a congregation of 90 families as the article had stated; there are ten people sitting in a semi-circle around the altar table. And, of course, everyone turns to stare at the two sniffling American women as they try to take off their gloves and hats without too much commotion and make their way up the aisle to the chairs the minister rushed to add dead-center to the circle.
Luckily, after our abrupt entrance, we jumped right into the most awkward rendition of O Come O Come Emmanuel I have ever participated in and a children’s sermon, complete with puppet, for the one child in attendance. The highlight of the service was when the minister stopped and restarted Still the Night, the British version of Silent Night, because even he flubbed the alternative lyrics.
Christmas Day was our only clear day, which made it perfect for crossing the many bridges of the Danube over to the Buda side of the city. Buda Castle and Palace are high on a hill that overlooks the river and Pest beyond. My favorite was the Gothic Matthias Church with its intricate carvings and amazing tiled roof. Build into the hill below is the Fisherman’s Bastion which afforded us some great views across the Hungary’s Parliament building.
We spent another day and a half wandering the streets of Pest, enjoying the Christmas markets and relaxing. It was a great way to detox from the semester and enjoy a different culture for a few days.
Resolutions and 2012
I have about six months left of my service. In some ways, time has gone by really quickly. It seems like just yesterday I was waving goodbye to my parents at Reagan. But I have also grown so much and learned so many new things that it seems like I have been here forever. And although these past twenty months have flown by, these next six sometimes seem to stretch out in front of me like connected train cars of the Bucharest metro. My New Year’s resolution is to write here more often. The trouble I have is that my daily life here in Romania doesn’t seem all that interesting to me. But I know that if I write about what seems mundane now, I will really appreciate having that to look back on when I am back home, feeling mundane in the States. So in an attempt to make myself write more, I’m putting the idea here in writing in the hopes that I will stick to it.
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