The Last Week...

In exactly a week I will be headed back to Sofia for my final close of service activities - mostly signing off on documents. However, this is also a time for reflection. I filled out my final Volunteer Report Form and my Description of Service recently, and this has put into numerical terms (no easy task) the things I have done here. It is exceptionally hard to number what I have done here. The Peace Corps has told us since day 1 that, as youth development volunteers, we will most likely not see most of the fruits of our labor.

That is especially true with my work at the Detski Yasli (Preschool) here in Preslav. My last day at the Yasli was today, and it was representative of my entire experience there. The children there can call me by name (Bati Greg - "Brother Greg"), and are excited when I play with them and spend time teaching them basic skills. However, when I leave it is as though I am a non-person. The children do not need me there, and yet I still have had some sort of impact on their development.

Youth development, by nature, is a very vague and immaterial assignment. We YD volunteers often joke about "developing the youth," as if that were a concrete and specific task to achieve. In reality, we just do what we think is best for the children. In this country, there is a severe lack of motivation among child care workers. Many times people are employed at child care institutions because it is available and "easy" work, rather than out of a sincere desire to work with the children. For these workers, "developing the youth" is often the last thing on their mind, which makes our work all the more frustrating.

At the Yasli, this was especially evident. With a background in child development I was eager to teach the children there some basic reading skills and some other things. The employees all but laughed at me the first time I brought the subject up, telling me that since they are so little they can not achieve or learn anything. In fact, it is at this stage of development at which the foundations of development are formed, making this time one of the most vital stages in a child's life. I have had some success in teaching basic skills to the children there - namely teaching the children how to count and in some social skills. It was when I started doing this that the staff perhaps realized that spending the time to teach the youngest children (rather than simply watch them) might have a positive impact.

In my opinion this is what youth development is really all about. Not only are we assigned to help the youth, but also to help develop the capacity of the people who work at these institutions. A large part of my work here is uncountable, since it is mainly in just having conversations with people about the abilities and strengths of the children I work with. Even a chance encounter with a neighbor is a "youth development activity," as the subject of the children I work with is inevitably a topic of discussion. People are often surprised when I tell them about how a preschooler I work with can count to ten and sing the alphabet. They are similarly surprised when I tell them that not all the kids I work with at the orphanage are criminals, and are in fact very nice children who perform well in school.

Much of my last week here at the orphanage will be spent in the same way I have been spending my time throughout the past 2 years. I will still be convincing the community members and staff that the children are capable of achieving wonderful things. This is evident in that I was able to teach several illiterate children (some as old as 5th grade) how to read and write, or how to do basic math - something that was never a focus before. Now, some of the orphanage workers have started working with the children one on one to catch them up. It is this achievement that I am most proud of, but the one that is hardest to describe in words and numbers. How do you put in numbers the fact that because of your work, some people might have a more positive view of at risk children and may be more willing to work with them?

I will post my Description of Service here later in order to try to show what I have done here to you all, but really they are just words. I cannot put into words the feelings I have had here and the things I have learned. How do you express in words the feeling when a child says, "You are like a father to me." This coming from a 10 year old child who hasn't seen his father in 5 years, and to a guy who has never had any parenting experience outside of a class in college. I can't tell you the emotions I went through when he told me that. The same day, another boy spit on me and threw walnuts at my face. It is because of this that I have such a hard time talking about my time here.

Perhaps someday I will be able to sort it all out, but for now all I have is the memories. I am forever a changed man for having experienced what I did here. I can only hope that I have been a positive force in the kids' lives.

Sorry that this has been a somewhat jumbled and disjointed post. As you can tell there has been a lot on my mind as I wrap up my service. I hope to write a more cohesive post soon.

Progress

It's been both a long and a short summer here in Preslav. The second archaeology camp (based on last year's success) came and went without a partner orphanage, but we were able to do a lot of fun activities with the kids, including a hike to the ruins in town (unintentionally held on the hottest day of the year), a lot of fun art projects that the kids had never seen before, an egg hunt for prizes, and parachute games. The whole 5 day "camp" culminated with an excursion for several of the kids to Pliska, the first capital of Bulgaria, and to Madara, home of the UNESCO preserved Madara Horseman, and one of my favorite places in the country.

I also attended my Close of Service conference in Tryavna, a 3 day affair that begins our transition back into life in the States, and to wrap up the last 2 years we've spent in this country we've come to call home. By the end of the conference, there wasn't one dry eye in the house, including mine, as our work here has become such a defining factor in how we view ourselves. Some of us will stay on for another year, and some will remain on this side of the pond for other reasons (like marriage). Most of us will be coming home to a place we haven't stepped foot upon for over 2 years, but all of us will be moving forward in some way.

When I arrived back to what has become my own home here in Preslav, I was greeted with a brand new refrigerator. The older one, a small space not much better than an icebox, failed in the oppressive summer heat. The new one is much nicer, pretty much the quality of a standard fridge in the States, holds more, chills more effectively, and has a separate freezer.

After moving this new machine into the apartment, I marveled for a moment at how far things have progressed since I've been here, and yet couldn't help but feel a bit bitter that this stuff wasn't around when I arrived. Around town, a brand new store has opened just down the street with goodies like Oreos and other things I haven't been able to find for 2 years.

In Varna, about an hour away, A huge new Carrefour store opened just next to the bus station, offering many more imports from home. The place dominates the surrounding area and acts largely as the European version of Wal-Mart. In the same complex, a sports store opened that sells, among other things, baseball equipment. I had been hoping for such a place for the majority of my time here, and now that it has arrived, at the tail end of my service with just a couple months left to go, I can't help but wonder at how much easier things could have been if it had come just a short time before.

In 2 months I will be coming back "home" to a country in which all of these things are just a given - services that are considered basic to even the smallest communities in America and many other places in the world. It would be an understatement that I have gained a new appreciation for these basic things that we as Americans usually take for granted. This was an expected result of my time here.

What wasn't expected was the realization that many of these things that we consider basic aren't really needed at all. They are luxuries that much of the world cannot even fathom. Why do you need one big store that sells everything when there are several small stores that sell all of the same things independently within a distance shorter than a standard aisle in a place like Target? Why would I want to buy peppers at a store that has no connection to the people that raised them when I can walk out my front door to find people roasting peppers on a fire, just feet away from their own gardens? We see in the States a trend to return to buying local or organic, and we pay a hefty price for what we consider a luxury item (farm fresh produce, personalized service, etc.). We then look down on the people who consider this to be the norm. Who then has progressed more?

Bulgaria may need much more time to progress to where we are in the States and catch up to the rest of the civilized world, but we also perhaps may need to slow down and view progress differently. Having a nice big fridge is a great luxury, and the Carrefour is short trip away, but I don't feel like I need any of it.

Will Rogers once said sarcastically that "We had begun to believe that the height of civilization is an automobile, a radio, and a bathtub. 'Course we're smarter now." He was talking about his own period, but it seems we haven't become much smarter today. We've begun to believe that the height of civilization is a hybrid car, an iPhone (or now an iPad), and a nice big house with many bathtubs. But if my time in Bulgaria has taught me anything it's that progress is measured not in the things you own, but in the things you learn. It's measured not by the things you do, but in how you do them. Progress isn't measured by the things you gain in life, but in the way you live it.

And today, I consider myself one of the richest people in the world.

Kazanluk Rose Festival

This weekend I was able to take a day trip over to the city of Kazanluk, a nice town in the middle of the country, to take in the annual Festival of the Roses. Kazanluk is located in what is called the Valley of the Roses, so called because of the vast swaths of roses grown there. This tiny region of the country accounts for about 60% of the world's production of rose oil, which is then used to make products such as perfume and other things sold for their aroma. As such, the rose has become something of a national symbol for Bulgaria.

The area is also known as the Valley of the Thracian Kings, being home to several dozen ancient Thracian tombs, including one preserved as a UNESCO heritage site. Another site, the ancient city of Sevtopolis, was completely covered in water when the communist government brilliantly built a dam right next to it. There are plans in the works to resurface the ruins of the ancient city, but those are just theoretical right now. Other attractions in the area include Shipka and it's amazing golden domed cathedral, the place in which Bulgarians repelled the Turks with Russian help, and Buzludja, the strange UFO shaped building that used to house the headquarters of the Bulgarian Communist Party.

On this day, however, we just stayed in Kazanluk for a bit and enjoyed the festivities. The day opened at the rose fields outside of town, where plenty of people dressed in traditional costumes invited us to go out into the muddy fields and pick roses for ourselves.


The view from the valley below is incredible, and the blooming roses fill the whole area with their fragrance. It's a bit overpowering at first, but makes for a very unique experience.


Later, we watched as traditional musicians and dancers put on a presentation near the fields. This performance was attended by the President of Bulgaria, as well as tons of ambassadors (as well as their amazing cars with their national flags on them). After that it was picture time for the tourists. There were people from pretty much everywhere in attendance, all being showered with rose petals by little children in traditional costumes. Meanwhile the old men continued playing their music...


Walking back from the fields, we stopped at the national Rose Museum, located at the Institute of Roses and Other Aromatic Plants. I had no idea there was such an institute previously, but here it was - containing specimens of basically every color rose possible, as well as specimens of lavender, lilac, and other flowers. The garden was all very picturesque, though the museum was anything but interesting.


Before catching the bus at 3, there was another dance session at the square, which today was lined with all sorts of vendors selling traditional pottery and various rose-containing products. It seemed like much of the town had converged on the square as live horo music blasted away. All the people came from a huge parade featuring what seemed to be every single group in the city and surrounding area. This made for a huge party-like atmosphere, bringing together all the different groups in one big festive dance.


I had to get back to my town, so the visit was cut a bit short, but overall I really enjoyed this festival. I think with that, I've attended almost every major festival in Bulgaria (this one is one of the big ones). There's one last one in August that takes place only every 5 years, and so it will be a treat to go experience that. The Rose Festival was a great time though, and a good taste of Bulgarian culture for everyone involved.

Chestita Baba Marta

With the arrival March, the Bulgarians symbolically ring in the arrival of the Spring season with the uniquely Bulgarian holiday called Baba Marta. Baba Marta, literally "grandmother March," is the personification of the first month of Spring. She is an old lady, who brings flowers and sunshine when she is happy, or rain and cold wind when cranky.

The first day of March also brings with it the exchange of martenitsi - red and white bracelets given to represent the new life and purity that spring will carry with it. Tradition holds that you have to wear these bracelets until you see a flowering tree. At that time you take off the martenitsi and tie them to the tree. This is one of the only things I can think of that only exists in Bulgaria.

Martenitsis tied to a flowering tree

Here in Preslav, Baba Marta must still be pretty angry, since we've been having rain recently, with more cold temperatures and rain lingering in the forecast for a while longer. However, when she showed up at the preschool she seemed pretty happy. On second thought that wasn't the real Baba Marta, but a staff member dressed up to give martenitsis to the kids. Songs were sung and games were played to celebrate the arrival of Spring. At the orphanage, more martenitsis were distributed from various groups around town. Most of the children's wrists cannot be seen under the sheer number of them all. As for myself, I got a few from people around town, including from the preschool staff and from the other members of my horo class.

I'll be wearing my martenitsis until I see that first bud on a tree around town. Although I'm not particularly superstitious, I'm secretly hoping this will lend success to my fitness room project...

Until next time...

Chetichki

This blog post has taken me about a year to gather into anything worth writing, mostly because I’ve been trying to understand the reasoning behind it for approximately that long. I’m still not too sure I understand it fully, and this post might come off as sounding very critical and/or negative. However, I feel like it’s something very important – maybe one of the most important aspects of the education system here in Bulgaria – and I think it says a lot about my work here.

When I arrived here in Preslav, I had no idea what I would be doing and only a vague sense of who I would be working with. I had some ideas, but didn’t really know how to implement them. In fact, I spent a good part of my first 6 months just feeling out the situation here and trying to understand what was happening around me. I had started some groups, mostly revolving around English, since that’s all I could really do at the time, and a math group. I had some art and sports going as well. However, there was something odd happening and I couldn’t really put my finger on it. Most of my kids were way behind in classes, yet could pretend like they were working perfectly. They would fill pages and pages of notebooks with homework that didn’t mean anything. A typical homework help session would involve me walking around the room as several children copied words from a textbook, or pretended to write notes, roughly looking like this: “alguprRDH dahduDHNNn. ..dhgaBBkd, LHDabfnk.” As you might imagine, this was somewhat alarming to me.

But it wasn’t the fact that they weren’t writing anything meaningful that was alarming to me. It wasn’t the fact that they didn’t know how to read, and it wasn’t the fact that the children didn’t know anything was wrong. Only now do I realize what was causing the sick feeling in my stomach. The supervisors, the tutors, the teachers… all of the child care workers were actively encouraging it. I slowly realized the system was not to teach children how to write, just how to make it look like they were writing.

I would ask the children what it was they were writing, and some would shrug their shoulders, some kids pointed to a random word in the textbook, and some would just flat out lie and say they were writing something that wasn’t even remotely related to anything. One child had filled a page up with nothing but his name, beautifully written in perfect cursive script, all the instances of which blurred together and connecting as if it were one long, flowing penmanship exercise.

And now I know that basically, it was.

This year, I have a somewhat deeper understanding of the situation, since I have observed the youngest kids start first grade at the beginning of the year, and have been tracking what they are up to. What I found just flat out astounded me. I had known for some time that the children here don’t learn how to read or write until they reach first grade. It had been frustrating to me to be told that I couldn’t teach the kids at the preschool some basic reading skills because of “the system” in place (I have since gone ahead and done it anyway). It wouldn’t have been as big a deal if I didn’t know the method.

In the first grade, starting about the 3rd week or so, the children start a process called “Chetichki,” roughly translated to “little readings” or something of the sort. Chetichki consist of different patterns of lines and circles, mostly meaningless, that the children are to copy over and over again until they have perfectly recreated the original pattern. The theory behind this method is to prepare the children to learn how to write actual letters and to write in nice cursive script almost immediately. I have 6 first graders that I work with in the orphanage, and all of them spent most of their homework time painstakingly copying these chetichki. If one was wrong or out of place, they would have to start over and do the pattern again. Mostly, the patterns looked very little like letters. Why the children don't skip this altogether and start by learning how to write the actual letters has just recently become clear to me. The system has been created based on appearance instead of substance.

Eventually, the children do start learning the letters of the Cyrillic alphabet. However, the method stays the same. The children are assigned pages and pages of perfect Cyrillic writing, and in the end they have something that you could hang on a wall, but nothing that has actually gotten into their minds. No development has taken place, just copying. When I ask the children what letter they have written, or what sound it makes, they mostly cannot give the correct answer.

There is a huge illiteracy problem in the orphanage. I have spent the better part of my time there teaching several children how to read their own language. In the beginning I discarded all pretentions of teaching little kids English, or catching them up in literature, or even helping as a tutor. Mostly, I have been teaching the very basics of reading and math. And what is amazing to me is that in almost every circumstance, every kid in these groups has been able to write perfectly. If this was a penmanship competition, I’m sure that one of my kids would take first place. Unfortunately it isn’t, and having perfect handwriting doesn’t mean anything if you can’t understand what it says. It seems that the best way to become literate through this system is to either pick it up the very first time before the teacher moves on to the next lesson or to have constant parental reinforcement outside of school to supplement the lessons. Often, the children at the orphanage are not afforded either opportunity. The children who do actually learn how to write are discouraged from doing so freely and creatively because they might make a mistake. Great work might be rejected because it doesn't look good.

Yet this method is perfect for the schools here. It allows them to grant very high grades to children for little work or little absorption. It allows schools to keep the same number of children in each grade so that they are granted the same amount of funding. It’s why there are 5th graders who can’t read the word “Az” (me), or who can’t identify the letter H (Cyrillic n). It’s why kids can copy pages of math tables and not be able to count to 5 properly. It’s why the achievement gap in Bulgaria is as huge as it is. Because in many instances the objective is to make it look like the kids are achieving rather than actually making sure they are.

Overall, during my time here I have realized that the real challenges in this country lie in where its leaders have placed its priorities. There’s no lack of resources, but they are going to the wrong places. There’s no lack of teaching methods, it’s that the methods aren’t working. The children leave school with the appearance of a vast library of knowledge, but no practical way to apply it. There is no shortage of teachers, but there is a shortage of passion to teach. It’s why when I ask my kids what they dream of being when they grow up, nobody says the President of Bulgaria. Almost everyone answers a taxi driver or a waitress.

It sounds dumb, but everything starts in the beginning. If the priority is to teach and have the children absorb and develop, the child will be successful. Literacy and passion for learning emerge and flourish at a young age. If the priority is to make it look like the child is working - the emphasis on appearance rather than achievement - the system has failed before it even gets off the ground.

Until next time…

Rock n Roll Ain't Noise Pollution

SO I was hanging out at a cafe the other day with a Bulgarian friend, who just happens to be the awesome guitarist in the Chernoriztsite - a local rock band. He likes to practice speaking English whenever he can, and we somehow got on the topic of how he actually learned English. The story was one of the coolest things I have ever heard...

Back in the days of Communism, listening to heavy metal was forbidden. Music had to be from within the country and approved by the government. Most Western rock (including metal) was not on the list. However there was an underground system of passing around Western music, and cassettes containing hard rock songs were the choice of the times in the 80s. However, if you got caught listening to them, the consequences were not good. Understandably, lyrics were not readily available, and almost nobody spoke English. So groups of people would get together and listen to the songs over and over again and imitate the sounds of the words in the songs. He went on to say that listening to the songs now, they were horribly off base, but back then it was as if they had found the Holy Grail.

Eventually, through context and other sources, words started getting translated. For example, one of the popular bands someone found out that Venom (the name of one of the bands) meant "vitrova" or poison. Then a cassette came out featuring songs from the band Poison, and they asked each other "what is the difference between this Venom and Poison?" (they are the same word in Bulgarian). Eventually they gathered that venom comes from an animal, and posion comes from somewhere else. He went on to say that heavy metal was responsible for the basis of his (very good) English abilities, and that he went on to attend an all-English speaking university. Aside from his spot in the rock band, he works in the local government and is currently creating an NGO to help local underserved farmers gain access to grants, small business loans, and other resources.

And who said rock and roll isn't good for anything?

In other news, I am now officially the only American in Preslav. My amazing sitemate of a year left yesterday (as her 2 years of service are officially up), and is off to the States for a short spell before turning around and signing up for another stint in the Peace Corps. Her ultimate goal is to serve in every continent... What a life! As for me, I've made enough friends here in town to keep occupied through the year, which will be great especially through the winter. It's already a lot colder than it was last year... Still it's going to be a much different place with her gone and I wish her the best of luck wherever she ends up next.

(This is the point at which all the other volunteers laugh because I have now become a regular volunteer without a sitemate. Yes... most other vols have been putting up with this for a year now haha)

Until next time...

9/9/09

My landlord came over yesterday to collect this month's rent. Pretty standard routine, until he wrote down the date on the receipt: 9/9/09. He looked down at the page for a second and started laughing. As I awkwardly stood there, money in hand, trying to figure out what was going on, he attempted to tell me.

September 9th, apparently, was at one point the National Day of the Communist Party. This was a day on which every town in Bulgaria had a big festival celebrating the Party and its accomplishments and contributions to the nation, very much like a makeshift national holiday. The date was significant in that September 9th was the day a group of Communists won (or took control of) the Parliament for the first time, marking the biggest change in the country's history since Bulgaria was released from the Ottoman Empire. The last time this was celebrated was 20 years ago to the day.

My landlord went on to tell me how there was a big parade through Preslav, with a lot of flag waving and music. I expected him to start extolling the virtues of "the communism," something I've grown accustomed to hearing from the older generation here. However, his assessment was a bit different. He continued by saying it was a very impressive event, but also a sort of facade. A happy day only for people who were in the Party. The rest were just sort of obliged to play along. The day was sort of indicative of communism as a whole - some were, of course, more equal than others. Sure everyone got the same paycheck every month, but party members were entitled to a whole range of different benefits: bigger houses, better vacations, access to higher education etc.

He went on to say that, yes, there were a lot of good things back then - a lot of good memories, work for everyone, a stronger sense of national pride - but he doesn't know exactly which is better. He likes the fact that people can say things without fear of being punished for it, but doesn't like the lack of respect for people this brings. Like so many other Bulgarians, he likes that people don't have to be supervised 24/7, but at the same time doesn't like the lack of discipline this has created. He loves the fact we can travel anywhere in the world and the fact that there are international brands and actual diversity in the markets. However, he went on to say that even the people who are better off financially in Bulgaria still don't have much money to spend on luxuries like that. "Ima Criza" (There is a crisis) after all...

He told me a story about how there was no real incentive to work back in the days of the Party. How, since everyone got the same amount of money, people would just show up to their jobs and sit around for a while. The only motivation was basically bribery... The doctor would put a stethoscope to your chest and say "oh you're fine" until you whipped out a bottle of whiskey for the guy, after which he would pull out the required paperwork from a desk, claiming he had previously forgotten about them, and perform the proper check-up. He told me about the vast underground economy that existed, probably as a result.

He told me all this with a wistful smile, almost as if he missed it. After a short pause, he took my money, gave me my rent receipt, and shook my hand. "Those days are over now" he told me, and walked away.

Hail to the Party of Lenin, our (not so) eternal vanguard.

Until next time...

Town Holiday!

Sunday was a big day in my town and around Bulgaria - the Day of Saints Cyril and Methodius, creators of the Cyrillic Alphabet. Born in Thessaloniki, Cyril and Methodius came to Bulgaria as missionaries and created the alphabet as a way to introduce Christianity to the Slavic people. To do this they needed a written language that reflected the different sounds of the Slavic languages of the time. Using some Greek letters, and also inventing some new letters they came up with the Glagolitic alphabet, which eventually transformed into the Cyrillic that many countries use today.


When Preslav was the capital of Bulgaria during its Golden Age, there was a great literary school that contributed much of the great historical literature of the country. Without Cyril and Methodius, much of the expansion that Bulgaria experienced probably never would have happened. Since this alphabet directly contributed so much to the development of Veliki Preslav (and to Bulgaria for that matter), the town celebrates it as its town holiday.

Today, the festival is somewhat removed from celebrating the contributions of Cyril and Methodius, and more an excuse to have a carnival come into town. The day kicked off in the center with a short presentation by the mayor, and a wreath-laying at the statue of Czar Simeon (the king of Bulgaria when Preslav was the capital and throughout its Golden Age). After that various groups put on singing and dancing presentations for about another hour.


When the presentation was over, it was off to the carnival, conveniently set up next to the pazar up the street. This was one of the most ridiculous, yet fun times I’ve had in town so far. Firstly, the weekly pazar (outdoor market) was expanded and included merchants from all around the region, and even some from some other cities selling everything you could imagine from clothes, to random gadgets, to chalga. Next to the market, crammed into a tiny square, were several rides that can only be described as deathtraps, some rip-off games, and several ponichki stands.

A word about ponichki: I think the nearest approximation would be little donuts, but to call them just "little donuts" would be a crime. These Bulgarian versions are fried not only in hot oil, but also a mixture of dreams, puppy kisses, and children's laughter, then drizzled with chocolate sauce and served directly to you fresh and warm in a little basket with a tiny fork. Pretty much the best and worst food ever created…

A little ways further up the road towards the school and the orphanage was located a giant inflatable slide and a dirt buggy track. Actually "track" is probably a bit of an exaggeration (more like a tiny circle of anti-fun and dust) but the allure of it brought the kids in anyway. I was almost snared as well, but luckily those tricky Peace Corps rules saved me from certain doom (PC rule 537: No driving anything ever. Sometimes donkey carts, maybe).

To my surprise, the children from the orphanage were allowed free rides on many of the attractions present, which made for a great weekend for them. As for me, I just had a good time hanging out and watching the people pass by on what was undoubtedly the most crowded I have ever seen my town. It seemed that most of the people from town were there, and for the first time that I can remember, the town actually felt as big as people tell me it is.

Until next time…