It has happened. I have begun doing interviews. Yesterday, my friend asked me what an average day is like in my village. While I am still editing the interviews that I have done I will ramble a little about my day today.
Each day begins based on the previous one. If I stay in and read, I wake up one way. If I celebrate with a party, I wake up a different way. Yesterday, I visited my Bulgarian tutor and we ate pineapple and roasted walnuts and then we talked for an hour. Afterward, I visited a friend of mine who lives in the same block (apartment building) and stayed for 8 hours. So, today, I woke up wearing my clothes and I was a little tired. I splashed water on my face and drank water, did push ups and listened to music.
I wake up early before school. No matter what state I'm in, I love to be up and playing with photos or drawing or writing before I go to school. Today was fun. I listened to Material Issue, thought about my brother Chris and looked up a few words in Bulgarian that I had been thinking of when I was awaken by the first prayer of the day from the mosque next to my place.
School was great. First, I had 8th grade. They're my favorite class. 8th graders here are 15 years old and they're nice kids. We studied directions, like, make a left, go straight, then you'll see a green building on your left...
7th grade had their end of the year National test. They took the test, my job was to contain myself and not mess with them, sing songs, etc. and let them concentrate. After class I talked to students and drank a seltzer water.
We had a teachers meeting. I listened but was too excited because Minka, a great old woman who I sometimes eat raw leeks with (we dip them in salt first), told me that I had a letter and a package waiting at the post office. When the meeting was over, I walked to the post office. It took me 30 minutes because I talked to about twenty people. Ahhhhh, I forgot that I told Krassi that I'd meet him for a coffee. The stuff at the post office was too good and it transported me to another world.
I got home and cleaned up tons of broken glass on my balcony. I have a neighbor who came over the other day, tips, and he broke 4 of my 6 glasses. He's a good guy deep down and I love his mother. She keeps me stocked with potatoes, homemade tomato sauce, pickled peppers, canned fruit and more.
I returned one letter, almost. I'd written for an hour and a half and it was time to meet the glass breaker and his parents to rake up the grass we'd cut and pile it up. If you don't know this work, it's difficult to explain but here is the most simple explanation I can give. Okay, grass grows tall, like 2 ft. high. You cut it with a sickle and leave it to dry in the sun for three days (can't have rain). When it's dry, you return with rakes and rake it up. The other part: you have a tree trunk or long branch, like 18 feet long. Dig a hole and put it in. Then, take a pitch fork and move the hay where it needs to go. Pack it in. Work for a few hours and it's time for the old woman to get on top and pack it in even tighter. Throw up hay and more hay until she is about 12 feet high. And, there's a few more steps and you're done. Cows gotta eat too!
It was good work. Then I drank a beer and one boy from 5th grade came up to me so excited and showed me the skateboard he just got. I rode down the mountain, even more excited than him but instantly regretted it because I know he will fall trying to do the same. Even though people walk around with shot guns and little kids kill cows in the backyard, I will be the worst of the bad guys when Sasho gets hurt. And, he will. That is part of riding a skateboard.
It's only 6 pm on a Friday but I'm beat. I'm going to finish the letter I'm writing, do some other writing, drink a Mastika and eat some pretzels.
Nothing could have made this day any better.
So there is my day off the top of my head. But there is always so much more, mostly stuff I don't want to share, like one of my students' mothers hanging out of her third floor window, glowing, princess like, and she was calling down to me, talking about drinking coffee together yesterday. Everyone is related. I had hiked up the mountain to hang out with her father. Sometimes it's just him; sometimes his wife is too; sometimes there are babies and women and kids and second cousins. The basics though I think will suffice in the sharing of a day in the life of.....
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