I Lied...

I'll get to my lie a little later in the post.

To begin, travel is magic. Traveling alone is magic as well, and I wasn't so sure this would be the case.

I arrived in Brasov on Friday, and ended up talking until after 3 in the morning, just soaking in the comfortable English conversation with new friends J~, S~, and T~ from Brunei and New Zealand. I got up on Saturday morning and went for a hike up Tampa Mountain- literally one of those experiences you remember forever- the ones that, in a really odd sort of way, define you. It was about 75 minutes up the mountain with all the switchbacks, and I got to the top right as the sun was peaking over the edge. I just stood with my hands outstretched and breathed and screamed and cried because of all the beauty and blessing in my life. See, there are benefits to traveling alone!

The rest of the day was spent exploring the remainder of the center of Brasov- it is an adorable, beautiful, amazing city. The center is so untouched by the Communist influences (bloc apartments, etc...) that seem to be everywhere else in Romania. It was just pure and clean and friendly and warm. The weather was absolutely perfect- the most wonderful autumn weekend. I got moved with my newfound friend J~ to an apartment because the hostel was booked out, and we had dinner at a local restaurant with Romanian specialties. Including the "grilled pig brain." Yes, friends- I at BRAIN! It was rather mushy, but actually rather tasty. We then went out with the two guys from New Zealand in the city center- near Piata Sfatului. It was a magical kind of day.

J~ was supposed to leave in the morning for the next leg of her journey, but she ended up delaying it a day so she could stay and go to Bran with me. THIS was my lie. In the last post, I said that I was not going to Dracula's castle- we did, in fact, go to Dracula's castle at Bran. It is about a half hour bus trip from Brasov, and we (with the help of two Serbian girls H~ and N~) flagged down the bus from the side of the road and made the trek.

Bran is (to be completely honest) rather disappointing. It is certainly a HUGE tourist attraction, but the castle itself isn't amazing. Regardless, for the rest of my life I will be able to say that I spent Halloween 2010 at Dracula's Castle. Honestly, what else in life IS there?

My return home was late (as trains usually are) but rather comfortable. I enjoyed part of the journey in a compartment with a music teacher, an old woman, a man who just kept muttering "frumosa" (meaning "beautiful") to himself, and a three year old child. Around the halfway point my compartment emptied out and I was joined by two men who were- to put it mildly- Romanian gods. They are volleyball coaches. Mhhmmm.

Bucuresti was waiting for me in all its glory. It always amazed me that not only my apartment, but my metro station and my street and my city are all the same when I return. I come back with an entire weekend full of new experiences and memories and friends and thoughts and emotions- and everything here is the same.

It is like magic.

I'll Be Home For...

I'm dreamin' tonight, of a place I love (okay, not really... but the people I love)
Even more than I usually do (because it's been two months...)
And although I know it's a long road back (really long- 20-ish hours long)
I promise you (to the best of my ability)

I'll be home for Christmas (SING it!)
You can count on me (but TAROM airlines, not so much...)
Please have snow and mistletoe (skip the mistletoe- we'd BETTER have snow)
And presents under the tree (not too many- I have to get back to Bucharest)
Christmas Eve will find me (I think I'll find it, rather)
Where the love light beams (hahahahaha- have you MET our family?)
I'll be home for Christmas (again- SING it!)
If only in my dreams (nope- it's official)

Friends, I'm coming home for Christmas! I'll be leaving Bucharest on December 23 and returning on January 3. I'm rather excited.

And the Beat Goes On...

These weeks pass with almost a maddening speed and a curious rhythm. There are days I spend doing almost nothing but reading and talking and surfing the internet. Other days I accomplish amazing amounts of work and go places and do wonderful things. The point, though, is that I usually get to Wednesday night and marvel at how quickly the week has gone. I make it through the long days of Thursday and Friday, and through the usually boring weekend days, and spend Sunday evening wondering, again, how I managed to lose the previous four days.

Regardless of energy or time or activity or schedule, my days in Romania are passing with a frightening rush. I feel it in the comfort I am developing with the city and the language. I feel it with the chilly breeze that sometimes blows me down the street. I see it in the changing leaves, and experience it in the darkness when I walk to school in the morning. This weekend will mark 2 months since I traveled to Romania. What have I done with my time?

Is sounds incredibly cliche to just say "Carpe Diem," but this is what I am struggling with. How much of this year is about LIVING here, which includes quiet evenings and days spent watching shows... and how much is about experiencing things I couldn't otherwise if I was living in the States? I'm sure this is a battle I'll continue to fight in my head.

For now, I'm going to Brasov this weekend. Booyah.

Support

I am sitting here, eating Pretzel M&M's, compliments of my dear friend C~. She prepared the most splendid package for me. I will detail the contents here:

1. Bottle of Eucerin Intensive Repair lotion- very needed, and lotion here is EXPENSIVE.
2. Packets (two) of Kleenex tissues- also very needed, and will allow me to stop carrying a toilet paper roll around with me.

3. Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm- I just used up what I brought over here, and lamented at the fact that it would be ages before I had any again. How did she know?

4. Bottle of Echinacea for Immune System Health- I laughed and laughed... and then took one.

5. Two packs of M&M's, which just so happen to be my favorite varities (Pretzel and Peanut Butter).

6. One package of Crystal Light Fruit Punch "On the Go" mix- whoa, buddy.

7. Three packages of Tropical Punch Kool-Aid. My life is complete.

8. Two packages of Taco Seasoning- Mexican night :)

9. One bag of Sixlets candy- great for munching!

10. One packet of Tiny-Size Chiclets Gum :)

11. Three boxes of KRAFT Macaroni and Cheese- this might have stemmed from the tears I shed while talking to her about missing Macaroni and Cheese.

12. One very lovely card filled with encouragement and support and love.

I am not sure what I would do without all the amazing people in my life. I've had a relatively rough patch recently, but the amount of support that is just flowing into my heart is incredible.

I am very officially going to Brasov this weekend. I made my hostel reservations last night (Rolling Stone Hostel!) and bought my train tickets today. I'll be leaving Friday afternoon and returning home Sunday evening. I have no idea what I'll do, but it is supposed to be a beautiful weekend. I feel mostly safe about traveling by myself, and I'm hoping that some more time away from the city will be good.

Blessings to all of you- and thank you for the unending support. It is so appreciated.

Idea Collecting

I've had a rough couple of days, despite the amazing amount of time I have spent talking with people I love. This is, of course, better than not talking. But it does sometimes make me more homesick than I would have been otherwise. Not more lonely, just more homesick.

Because of this, I've found it particularly important to start making plans for time spent here in Romania. I've discussed this a lot with people, and I don't want to just waste these next 8 months, nor do I want to wish them away. However, I think that having things to look forward to will help me get through the days and weeks of nothing but school.

A good amount of these plans involve travel. I've already made plans to go back to Timisoara for the Thanksgiving weekend, but there are other parts of Romania I want to explore as well. Currently on the list: Brasov, Arad, Baia Mare, Iasi, Suceave, Sibiu, Braila, Cluj-Napoca, Targu Mures, and Constanta... I'm looking at a trip to Brasov this coming weekend, hoping it can work out.

I would also like to go back to Oradea at some point, the town I was in the first time I came to Romania.

Mostly though, I am wondering what I should do for Christmas. I have nearly 2 weeks off of school and no one to spend the holidays with. It would be easy to stay here in Bucharest and just take some time to rest- but before I knew it the entire break would be gone and I would be disappointed in myself. I really should use this time for traveling. There are so many places in Eastern Europe I want to go: Prague, Vienna, Bratislava, Istanbul, Sofia. However, would it be wise to travel out-of-country during Christmas, or should I save all of that for another time? Looking at all the places in Romania I want to visit, it feels silly to leave when I have two weeks to explore them all.

When my dad comes at the end of January, we are probably going to drive to Budapest, stopping in Timisoara on the way. This will also be a chance to see more of Romania, and in a car we can go more quickly and do whatever we want to.

I have a week off at spring break as well that could be used for traveling. It is just tricky to figure out this stuff alone...

Regardless. I have plans.

Little Victories

I've come to rely on what is perhaps the most cliche notion about teaching (a field just FILLED with cliche); the notion that we must celebrate the small victories.

Because this is a late night post after a few really awful and mostly sleepless nights, I might ramble here. My viewpoint will probably change in the course of my writing. Fair warning.

For a long time in the classroom, I was dissapointed and discouraged. I thought of myself as a mediocre teacher because I couldn't reach everyone, and I couldn't do everything. I had kids who misbehaved, and there were moments that I wasn't at my best. My deepest personal criticism took shape in the critique I gave myself while in front of a classroom. These are children- they deserve the very best we have to offer. I am doing them a huge disservice to stand in front of a room and not bring my "top game," not pour every ounce of energy I have into the lesson, not love them with everything I have to give.

And then I pacified myself by celebrating the small accomplishments that one can see every day. Yes, three kids might not understand what you are talking about- but fifteen got the message! Child A actually turned their homework in, and Child B responded well to the chat we had earlier. Child C might be a holy terror, but I brough Child D over to the good side. I developed the ability to excuse away ENTIRE lessons just filled with awful because I could find one or two or five tiny little good things. And so I convinced myself that I was a good teacher, that I was skilled, that I could do this. I developed the ability to overlook the larger injustices that play out in my classroom every day. When did I stop grieving over the social inequality I see in the eyes of my students? When did I lose my taste for real knowledge to take root instead of just compliance and understanding? At what point did I give up my ideals?

Romania is not ideal. I don't get my way in the classroom. There aren't nice spaces for children to be creative and expressive and free. I can't even freaking COMMUNICATE with half my students on a level beyond basic vocabulary, and I am so tired of saying "linistit" and singing "Head and Shoulders" and counting down from five to get attention. I'm tired of having 21 classes and 600 students and the overwhelming knowledge that I won't get to know all of them personally, which is the reason I wanted to teach in the first place. I'm tired of finding out last minute that classes don't have books and missing teachers meetings because no one tells me and I'm tired of being alone.

Always in the back of my head was the lingering notion that I was just quieting down the inner demon. He or she or it is rearing it's ugly head this week.

I am tired of feeling like a failure.

Uplift

I had an awful, miserable kind of day yesterday. I'm not sure eactly what it was- the weather, having too much free time, being alone, dreading my class of terror, homesickness.

I had my worst teaching moment ever. It was completely out of control. I discovered that this class doesn't have books for some reason, and so my entire lesson plan was scrapped. I had two students out of 37 bring in homework. I was exactly the kind of teacher I don't want to be. I don't think that most of the students understand what I am saying, but those who do cause problems. I can teach and I can teach well- what I do in there is not teaching. It is yelling. I tried just ignoring it, but they get so loud and out of control it is disruptive to other classes. I have no idea what to do, other than what I did. Which was cry in the bathroom after my 40 minutes in hell was over.

I came home and just dwelled in the homesickness and lonliness. This is hard. I have people who are supporting me, but physical presence is just so different, so much more meaningful. I'm going back to see Dan in Timisoara during the American Thanksgiving Day weekend, and my dad comes 100 days from tomorrow. Other than that, I really have no idea when I am going to BE WITH familiar people, and it just all hit yesterday.

And then today, everything was better. The sun was out, my classes were magical, and I found some more beauty in this city. Just when you think everything is going to fall apart...

Converts

Each class I have is populated with kids that are either chaotic troublemakers, innocent sweethearts, or normal. Tragically, the kids in the middle just blend in, because there are one or two troublemakers, and one or two sweethearts. When you have 21 classes to manage and over 600 names to learn, it makes it easier to concentrate first on those who make your life hell, and those who make it better again.

Like Star Wars in real life, these students seem to either be working for the Light or the Dark side, and this past week, I won a few converts.

The first is a second grade hellion named L~ who is way too smart and knows way too much English for what I need to cover with the rest of the class. I finally decided to employ one of the easiest tricks there is, and it worked like a charm. I now have a translator in Class 2A.

The second is a boy from 5B whose beautiful spirit was covered in such mischief that I couldn't see through the grime. I literally cried when I say him working diligently on the assignment, and I did cry as I told him how proud I was.

There is still M~ and M~ in 1A, D~ in 7A, every student but B~ in 6C, A~ in 1D, M~ and M~ in 1C, G~ in 5 C and many many others... but I won two converts last week and I am rather proud.

Timisoara

Having just returned to Bucharest after what may have been the best weekend I've ever experienced, I'm working on not being upset. I knew that I needed to get out of the city for a bit, see some other parts of Romania, and visit with a friend that has become (almost) insanely important to me. I had no idea HOW much I needed it, though.

My train ride on Friday was absurdly long and boring. I know that some of this was the time of day (we left at 3:45) and some of it was purely anticipation, but I thought I was going to die. The first few hours of the journey were spent sitting opposite someone who could have played in the NBA simply because of the length of his legs. I eventually snuck into first class for about 45 minutes and got found out, and went back to my own train car. However, I didn't go all the way back to my seat, but settled into an empty grouping of seats and tried to enjoy the rest of the journey. I had about a million things on my mind, none of which were particularly pleasant, and so when we pulled into the station only 10 minutes late, I was intensely relieved. Dan (I figured the D~ bit should be up after the last posting) was waiting for me there and we got a cab back to his flat. We dropped my stuff off and went to wander around the neighborhood, which turned into a walk to the city center- Piata Victoriei and Piata Unirii. My heart nearly stopped beating in my chest, as it was so constricted by all the happiness. The night was beautiful, I was with someone I love spending time with, and we were standing in the middle of the most beauty I've seen in 7 weeks.

The rest of the weekend was filled with a lot of walking, good food (Chinese, even!), beautiful parks, an Orthodox wedding, soft-serve ice cream, chatting, enjoying the automatic reader on Dan's iMac, a smoky bar called The Dungeon, a man named N~ and a friend of Dan's that I might never figure out, a revalatory walk and talk, a song called "Fost Odata," employing Google Translation services to discover some things about my neighbors, a massive shopping center, American football, a beautiful hour in Piata Victoriei, and a certain amount of sadness on my part when my train pulled away at 10:40 on Sunday night. It was truly a magical weekend.

The details aren't really too important. What I do know is this: I learned some things about myself this weekend, and some things about the nature of beauty.

1. It is both good and necessary to spend time with people you care about.
2. I'm becoming more mature in certain aspects of my life that have always been a struggle for me.
3. Even if you are living in a place without a lot of percievable, easy beauty... it is still important to look for it. I can't go that long without it again. I'll look for it in the faces of my students or the correspondence from the States or the way this city is trying to better itself. I'll search for the beauty, even if it seems to be hidden. Maybe the difficulty, the struggle, will make it even more meaningful.

All of that being said, I'm going back to Timisoara in a little over 5 weeks to celebrate Thanksgiving. It's not a holiday here but we figured there are some things we just shouldn't give up. Plus, I really did have an amazing time.

Thank You, Tom Stamman

This post is a result of the collective efforts of Daniel Carroll and Stephanie Sablich.

Sometimes life can change rather quickly. It’s dizzying, really.
It is 4:10 in the morning, and we are sitting in Dan’s apartment, reflecting on how exactly we got here; to this moment in time, this place in the world, the edge of this new universe. If we track it all the way back, it began when we both decided to go on the Romania/Hungary trip offered by Tri-S at Anderson University. Why did we choose to go? Stephanie wanted to go to Europe, and this particular trip was relatively inexpensive. Dan signed up because it was the last open trip being offered. God or fate or destiny or whatever else intervened, and history was made.

We are sitting in Dan’s apartment after a night of revelation. We made friends in Romania and kept in contact throughout the following year, and finally got together almost exactly a year later because Dan turned down a job in Indiana and was headed home. Stephanie was in Anderson because she really royally messed up her graduation and had to take another class. We began to reminisce about the trip we were on just a year before, and then Dan ended the night with “Have a nice life...” and we both thought that would be it. Little did we know...

Stephanie thought and thought and thought about what to do with her life, and apparently Dan was thinking the same thing. Stephanie researched and applied and accepted a job in Romania, and happened to mention it to Dan on Facebook. Dan responded, a few weeks later also accepted a job in Romania, and on August 30 we got on a plane and flew to Bucharest. Dan left three days later to head west to Timisoara. Six weeks passed, filled with new experiences and all kinds of people and really difficult classes and a good bit of questioning. Stephanie missed Dan and decided to visit him, and so got on a train, which led to a night that ended at a smoke-filled, crazy bar called the Dungeon... and a walk back to Dan’s apartment, and a collective blog post in the early hours of the morning. Life can change in just a few moments, with just a few decisions.

As u dr hrtr b. I sat here and started typing but I was looking at Stephanie and not the screen. That is why I typed As u dr hrtr b. I think I meant to type “As I sit here” but then my fingers decided to click the wrong keys. I was always the guy in keyboarding class that secretly looked at the keyboard when I was doing the typing tests. I was really good at the fff jjj fjf set but I really excelled at the lll ooo lol set, lol. I think my highest word per minute average was 210 or something. I suppose I should articulate my words into something that is half as coherent as what Stephanie said but she pretty much explained everything better than I could have so I will discuss something else. The moment where I sit and stress about what I should type is the moment where I should stop trying to write. Therefore, I will end this blog post by saying Noapte Buna.

Fire Drill

I've written before about my terror class, yes? The class that movies could be made about? My sixth grade monsters?

I teach twenty-one classes. Guess which one I was in this week when we had a fire drill? Just guess. What are the chances? If you answered 1 in 21, you would be correct. I had a less than 5% chance that the fire drill would happen during my class from hell. You know, when you have to get your kids in order and down from the third floor quickly and safely and out the door two by two, marching right past the principal? Yeah, that kind of fire drill. It was super.

Let me take it back.

Immediately before the class began, I spoke with the "form teacher" (a homeroom teacher of sorts) about the misbehavior of her class. I asked her to come in and speak to the students- I finally caved in and realized that I needed some backup. Friends, I am not joking when I tell you that she literally ran from the room about 2 minutes later with her hands over her ears and tears pouring from her eyes. Like a scene from a movie, she came in to start yelling at the students for me when a little loaf of bread came whizzing across the room and smacked her right in the face. Her head snapped backward and then she got really upset (who wouldn't?) but before she could even react, there was bread flying at her from all over the room. Seriously, I think she got smacked by about 12 loaves of bread and many many screams before she covered her ears, started crying, and ran. I was huddled in a corner behind the desk, vaguely traumatized and shaking with laughter. Hmm... okay. Fire drill.

This all strangely made me feel better- I'm kind of off the hook for the behavior of this class, as it were. We got back inside after the fire drill (what a clusterf**k that was) and I just didn't even attempt to teach. I wrote the assignment on the board, EXACTLY what I would have said if they had been able to hear over the sounds of death coming from their own mouths, and sat in the chair. It is terrible to say, but I have completely given up with this class. I'll still work with individual students, sure. But the odds are stacked against me here... and it isn't worth my sanity.

This is the part of the movie where I creep home and have a class of wine and sappy music plays as I collapse on the couch and decide that I will OVERCOME this challenge... so you think. But this movie has a surprise ending. I'll just keep working on the other 600 students in the 20 classes I teach.

An (AHA!) Moment

I might be the worst teacher ever.

My first class on Tuesday morning is a first grade group, 1A. This is at 7:45 in the morning, and usually a pretty interesting group. They are a lot of fun- not too quiet, but not awful either. I usually give them some time to settle in (kids here straggle in) and then start the lesson.

No one has an assigned seat or anything, because each classroom is used for three classes throughout the day. Every morning the students come in and just find a seat, which makes learning names just SUPER easy.

There is one child in this class named Mihai. As a side note, I have decided that students named Mihai (pronounced "me-hi") and Luca and Matei (pronounced "matt-ay") are some of my favorites... and biggest challenges. I have either a Mihai or a Luca or a Matei in every class , and most of them have both or more than one of each. In 1A, Mihai is a challenge. One of the cutest little ones you could ever hope to know, but OH MY WORD. This kid is so out of control- he is everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I have been amazed for four weeks at his ability to be in many places in the classroom at once. I try to get a handle on him, and he is gone again, across the room. He is a total sweetheart, but his abilities for escape and deiversion border on magical.

This morning, Mihai sat right next to his twin brother, Matei. That is right, friends. There are TWO of them. There have been two of them all along, just never sitting next to each other. I nearly collapsed. This certainly explains some things.

This is Not Easy

For years I've been a perfectionist, and surrounded myself with others who operate in the same way. Achieve more, do better, reach higher... we all did it. So it was normal, and complaining and failure were not allowed. "No, it really is no big deal to do every single reading assignment." "I thought 25 credit hours would be difficult, but it really isn't too bad." "I can't believe I got a 90 on that paper- I thought I worked so hard!"

I have struggled through these last few weeks here in Romania, telling myself (and everyone around me) that I'm doing well. Maybe I was trying to convince myself; I really don't know. But sometime over the weekend, I snapped.

There are so many things here that are good. My life is full and rich and beautiful. I have unbelievable people in my life, and an incredible system of support that extends around the world. But this, my friends, this is not easy. It is not easy to teach in a system I don't understand. It is not easy to plan each week for 6 different grade levels, and at least 2 language levels in each grade. It is not easy to sleep alone each night and feel as if my life is elsewhere. It is not easy to explore alone, day after day and week after week. It is not easy to spend too much time at the grocery store or to examine a map again and again, or to step into awkward situations because of language. It is not easy to budget money and eat pasta and rice night after night and feel overwhelmed.

This is not easy. And in admitting that, I find myself confident that everything will be alright.

In other news, I am taking my first trip outside of Bucharest on Friday. I will be taking a train to Timisoara to visit D~ for the weekend. I'm excited about seeing him, laughing, exploring more of Romania, and all the rest of what is to come. I'm a little nervous about meeting his colleague N~ because of stories and one past encounter, but life is all about adventures, right? I'll keep everyone posted.

Rebelz of 79

One of the projects I've recently started with my fifth, sixth, and seventh grade classes requires the development of a blog. I'm not sure exactly how to work this out, but what I would like to do is start a class blog of sorts that can be accessed by students and teachers in the States for potential collaboration purposes.

Right now, for the first assignments, we are working on making personal introduction letters. These would be among the first postings on the blog(s) for each of the classes.

I am thinking about doing the same thing with my eighth grade students, with the autobiographies they are doing. Except, it would be really amazing to do video recordings, if at all possible. We'll see.

Regardless, the point of this post is to discuss an email I just recieved from a student regarding the name of said blog... their suggestion is "Rebelz of 79." I told them we will have to vote on it in the next class, but I have a feeling I'm going to be rigging the election if necessary to make sure this is the winner. Yeah... I love my job.

Close Contact

I've written before about the way people in Romania can be rather oblivious to any sense of personal space.

Two such people live in my apartment building, and I am rather adept at running into them right as we are about to get on the elevator. Now, this lift is not exactly the most safe or secure thing in the whole world, and I consider how exactly I could die everytime I get on it. I'm not terribly worried while riding alone, but when my friends join me along with their grocery bags, things get a little worrisome.

My poor elevator took about (no joke) 74 seconds to reach floor four. I know this because I counted. I counted because I wanted to see exactly how long my male Romanian friend would be pressed up against me.

74 seconds of the most intimate action I've gotten in a LONG time...

Management

One of the things that I am struggling the most with is management, and it is incredibly frustrating because I felt like it was ONE thing I had mostly understood in the States. I got to the point where I could charm and entertain a group with ease, and manage a classroom filled with students with almost no problem.

I stood in my last class of the week, a group of fifth graders that either are about three levels behind the other fifth graders or just have some secret class plan to trick me. I stood at the front of the room and I realized that what I had been seriously upset and frustrated about the entire period just wasn't their fault.

There are many reasons that the crazy behavior of 5C is not their fault, but a primary one is the complete lack of respect for these children in regards to an educational environment. I thought that packing 32 students into my classroom last year was an insane task. We were often very crowded and I thought it amazing that my kids could get any learning done in the room.

My 5C class numbers 36, and they are literally packed into a white-washed room that is one-third the size of my last classroom. They are expected to learn without any sort of environment to support it- I literally have to have kids create an aisle to get in or out of the classroom. They are expected to stay quiet in a room that drives me crazy- I DREAD the two classes that I have in there each week. They are expected to remain focused in a place that is teeming with the beautiful energy of 10 year old students that should be allowed to be harnessed rather than squelched.

And this is just one example. The first graders are easy to manage- they just gaze up at my face as I sing and sing and sing and sometimes draw on the board and dance and sing some more. They smile and they are easily charmed. The older kids are easy(er) because they understand English at a higher level. But there are middle levels, a lot of them.

I miss being able to live out my ideals. My ideals about how school should be done, how students should be treated (according to development), how management should be handled. My ideals about myself as a teacher and the kind of classroom environment I want to foster.

At what point do I lay these down and teach with what I have... or is this a battle I should honestly just continue to fight?