Wrapping Up

There is something special about knowing exactly how many classes you have left to teach before the end of the school year. Those final weeks, days, and minutes tick away at a school in the States... but here I count classes.

My regular full-load is 21 classes in a week... so with three weeks left, that should be fairly easy to figure out.

I would like to pause and remind you that this is Romania.

I have extra classes this week, extra classes next week, and extra classes the last week. However, I also have fewer classes this week (according to the latest update), fewer classes next week, and fewer classes the week after that. Apparently there are days off that not all the teachers know about, and my last two days of classes aren't really classes... but are they? I have absolutely NO way of knowing because, well, I don't know. At least I know that I have to ask now, but when you are literally told three different things, it gets a little complicated.

Maybe this is just a way for me to stay focused on living in the moment. I literally cannot count down... because I have no idea.

Ahh, Romania.

Overkill

Much of my life is about overkill. I talk a lot here about the obsessive nature of my personality, and my struggles to temper it in certain aspects of my life. I get addicted to things and people, I move quickly through ideas and passions, and I act without thinking. What is a good idea in one moment is terrible in another, but for my lack of foresight and consideration I must accept the consequences. Usually these are mostly personal and have little effect on the people around me.

Except that sometimes they do.

I cannot wait to get back to a place in my life that doesn't focus entirely on me. I am craving the exhaustion of a classroom, the energy drain that one feels when you pour everything you have into a lesson and you come out used and dirty and ragged on the other side. I ache to have emotion outside of myself. I yearn for passion concerning something that isn't directly related to my life.

But for now, I am wrapped up in a frenzy of "last" things. Things that are close to my heart and necessary for the weeks ahead, but things that also affect other people. I am tired of being selfish. And I miss being balanced.

Control

I have what some professionals might call a "control" issue. I'm not sure where exactly it comes from, but it sometimes creates problems. And by sometimes I mean pretty frequently. And by issue, I just mean that I like it.

I like control. I like having control, I like being in control, I like taking control. And because of this, I live in fear of being a "control freak." I know the part of my personality that lies deep within, and I smush it down farther and farther. I don't want to be that person, that overbearing, over-intrusive, constantly annoying person. THAT is something I do not want to be. So I make choices.

I chose a career (none of this "career chose me" bunk- I am in control :) which most people think is about control, but really is not. Teaching is not about control. There are some aspects of the job that may seem this way- but when it is really fleshed out, teachers shouldn't have control. Controlling a classroom is not something I want to do. I like to think that I can create order in any situation. I can quiet a classroom and engage minds and draw attention. But is there anything more beautiful than the organic process of learning in a classroom? The natural, inspiring, uncontrollable movement of thought and energy and resource into the very being of a little person? Friends, there is nothing more pure- and so I chose a career where control is something to be shaken off.

I have relationships that I have no control of. Certainly I have input and insight and choice in relationships, but I consciously choose to interact closely with people in a way that allows me to be passive. I can practice not being in control, and these people temper my spirit and ground me. In a desperate attempt to keep them close I change little bits about myself. I become better as a person, more balanced and whole, when I work on the loss of control.

For someone who is still in complete control even of the practice of being uncontrolled, I am pretty proud of myself for what I am going to do next year. The plan thrown out the window (or at least filed away neatly in the "save for later" folder), I am abandoning my control issues and living as an unreserved person! I will be spontaneous and fun! I don't care that I have no information on where I will be living! All cares are in the wind when it comes to packing! I have no problems with my lack of information concerning my classroom or students! It matters naught that I don't even know what my salary will be! I will be a free spirit, moving where the winds of fate take me! RIGHT.

I push the control down farther and farther. And sometimes, the pressure is just too great, and I crack, and teeny bits of me leak out.

Don't worry. I try not to let the control seep onto other people. I keep my messes pretty much to myself. But a mess I am. Here are some things I am currently trying to have control over:

1. How much sleep I will/will not get on the plane. My mom pretended to fall asleep when I talked about this today. Nothing like that to show you the true importance of such matters. Is this truly something I should spend time thinking about? Probably not. But still my time is filled with thoughts of how long the flight is, and whether or not I should stay up the night before, and if I should take a sleeping aid, and how groggy I will be the next morning, and how terribly embarrassing it would be TO take a sleeping aid and do something stupid in a state of deep slumber, and, and, and...

2. Lesson planning. I KNOW that I don't have any idea what I will be teaching. But do I still have a lesson plan all ready for the first... um... month of school? Yes. Do I know I will have to scrap these plans? Yes. So long as I know, right?

3. Arrival to airport. We are 4 weeks and 4 days away from my departure. My parents will be dropping me off at the airport in Chicago. No, I haven't looked up our airline approximately 12 times. No, that wasn't me who searched the international terminal website, despite having flown through the EXACT terminal twice in the last 15 months. No, I certainly did NOT mapquest directions to an airport located IN THE CITY that I have called home for a year. No, it was not me who created contingency plans in the case that the car breaks down.

4. How I will look during travel. This one is particularly ridiculous. Spending time reading tips and techniques for how to "stay fresh" during international travel is probably a little bit absurd, right? Yes.

5. Boredom on the airplane. I have 4 times flown over the Atlantic Ocean and never once died of boredom. In fact, I don't even recollect being bored. So please explain to me the countless internet searches regarding "how to survive a long-haul flight." Please explain the thought and energy I am putting into what books I am going to bring and letters I can write and music I can listen to.

6. My personal life. Haha. Hahahahaha. Hahaha.

Control I want, and control I have none of.

Brought to you be the word of the day: control.

Preparation and School Supplies

I was once told that writing a paper has three steps. I am not sure of the wisdom of such advice, as it turns out that writing is dependent on an unbelievable network of nuances concerning grammar, orthography, phrasing, vocabulary, style, organization, voice, and many other things. Regardless, I am going to go ahead and follow this directive: "Tell them what you are going to say, say it, and tell them what you told them." RIGHT.

PART ONE:
This posting is going to be about my manic-obsessive need to plan, and my semi-unsettling fascination with school supplies.

PART TWO:
I recently have had a lot of free time, owing to the change in my job situation that is basically awesome-ness in all facets. Regardless, I spent much of this free time concentrating on things that need no thought- hours on Facebook, for example. I worked more on my Romanian language skills, now the master of such phrases as "I speak a little Romanian." And finally, I began to plan for the coming school year. Right.

There is time every summer that I spend just detoxing from the previous year, and the time frame for such a rest is completely dependent on the stress and intensity of my activities during the year. This summer, it took me a longer-than-normal 39 days to recharge and jump back in. But last night, June 23, 2010 at around 6:45 pm CST, the instinct struck with a vengeance. Right.

I started making lists and doodling brain webs and sending emails and compiling ideas. It hit hard this year, my friends, regardless of the fact that I know shockingly less about my job than ever before, and nothing of my students. I have no idea what my classroom will be like, what the school culture allows or promotes, or even if I will be allowed to do what I want. I have no grasp on the technology available or the supplies accessible for me or my students. But I am planning. Right.

One of my most favorite and cherished ideas began with one email and quickly spiraled (almost) out of control. I thought about the possibility of "adopting" a classroom in the States to partner with, sharing letters and emails and cultural learning. For ELL (English Language Learner) students, it is imperative that they have authentic interaction with other students and the language. So I sent out a few (okay, 30) messages... and things are looking good. I probably cannot express the immense amount of excitement I feel about these possibilities. So I won't try. Those who know me well probably can picture the expression on my face, accompanied by much jumping and arm flailing and random squealing. Those who don't know me quite as well... count it as a blessing. Right.

Despite being reminded by D~ (jokingly, I hope...) that we agreed to "wing it" this year- I cannot resist the temptation. And so like every other year, I will probably be forced to make room for standards and customs and circumstances and timing that I know little of at this point- but the planning itself is almost as fulfilling for me. Right.

Secondly, I went school supply shopping today. The more I think about it, the closer I come to realization that I have a problem. And while recognition is the first step to recovery, this is not a condition I seek to cure. Right.

Around this time every summer, stores begin to run school supply sales, and my brain shorts out a few times and my bank account rapidly depletes itself, seemingly without my knowledge or control. Today was the first of these instances, but probably the only one this summer. Why?

Because this year, unlike every other year, I cannot just load up the front seat of my car with a few more bags. This year, my school supplies will have to fit into a suitcase, which will be checked and then loaded and then transported from Chicago to Rome to Bucharest. Right.

So I balance the crazy with my desire to travel as "lightly" as possible. I think about what they might have in Romania that I could easily (and probably more cheaply) purchase, and talk myself down from the possibility that they DON'T have binder rings or highlighters or binder clips or index cards- and buy it all anyway. Don't worry, I didn't completely lose focus. I might not have room for a spare pair of pants or some extra socks, but at least my space is being used for something USEFUL. Right.

PART THREE:
This posting has been a humorous and charming account of the neurotic nature of my personality, with significant focus on planning and the purchase of school supplies. Because of this posting, people will both understand me more deeply and find me even MORE likable. Riiiight?

Details

This post will contain nothing spectacular or insightful. Just a fair warning.

I read one time that writing down worries and concerns lulls the mind into a (false) sense of peace before sleep. And because I spent the entirety of last night glancing at the clock every 30 minutes or so, I am going to try it out. A detox for the conscious, of sorts.

1. I have been in frequent contact with my English department head at Scoala #79. We exchanged a few emails today and I learned a lot of new details. For instance- my students have textbooks. This is a big deal. Additionally, I will only be teaching "intensive" English classes, which both frightens and excites me. I will be teaching 18-19 lessons each week, and NO, I have no idea how this works. Also, the teachers are supposed to wear "decent" clothing. Hmm.

2. I discovered that my "flat" (geez, that just SOUNDS cool, right?) may not be available when we first arrive in Bucharest. I was counting on D~ and I being able to stay there during our orientation at the beginning of September. One more thing to add to the list... but at least I know about the possibility now. We haven't really heard any details about the orientation or when D~ needs to/should leave for his placement... all in good time. Probably on August 29th.

3. My parents found a suitcase of massive proportions at Goodwill for $3.00. Massive enough that my friend C~ can fit inside of it. She IS quite tiny, but she honestly crawled completely into this suitcase this past weekend and we could zip the lid. I am not quite as worried about packing anymore. I still have this vision in my head of being forced to drastically eliminate an enormous amount of items at the airport and having to haul this luggage around the world and it being lost somewhere in transit and forgetting something essential in the States. But I have a really big suitcase now.

4. I think that I will bring along said giant suitcase and one more duffel bag as checked luggage. For carry on luggage, I will have my hiking backpack with all the essentials (change of clothing, few toiletries, small blanket, valuables, book, i-Pod, computer, playing cards, etc...) and a purse. Here I will be co-opting the definition of purse by bringing a GIANT tote bag. Plus, it says I am a teacher, so it makes me feel more grown-up and somehow legitimate. I am playing around with the idea of bringing my pillow. My mom did this when we went to Europe, and despite the hassle it caused... it might be nice to have something so familiar.

5. Speaking of familiar things, I am wondering what to bring. I have always craved personal touches to make me feel comfortable in a situation- things like pictures and curtains and rugs. But left with the choice between bringing my vase of fake flowers and a winter jacket, I think I will be forced to ditch the sentimental. So, who has ideas about what I can bring that will remind me of home, and takes up a tiny little bit of space? Maybe a CD with some good songs on it. Suggestions? (You know who you are... help me out!)

6. My personal life is a mess. Some of you know what this is about, many of you don't. But it is sufficient to say that this whole thing is a disaster. A good, wonderful, beautiful kind of disaster- but a heart filled with chaos nonetheless. And doing THIS in the midst of this is an odd experience.

7. I haven't even told D~ this bit of information, but I discovered that it can actually be cheaper to fly from Bucharest to the city he will be teaching in. And so instead of taking 8 hours on a train, it is only about 50 minutes. This makes me happy. I know this is an adventure I need to take. And it is an opportunity I should be happy to experience alone. And I planned to do this before knowing it was even an option for D~. But frankly, it is really nice just to know that someone is just an hour away. He might not be as excited about my reliance on his presence... but it is a great comfort in the moment. And I don't really care what he thinks :)

8. I recently devoured a culture guide on Romania, and I am both more excited and more anxious about living there. I think that I am going to need to be especially sensitive to the fact that the people of this country experienced great hardship under a communist government for many years. I am used to living in a country that forces me to temper down my national pride and assume a position of supplication in order to interact well with the world. This may not be the case in Romania, and this is okay. Development is happening at rapid speed in some places, and peasants live centuries-old traditions in others. This is a country with a history of terrible violence and invasion and foreign rule. This is a country that gained and lost millions of miles of land in the course of two World Wars. This is a country that was handed to the U.S.S.R. after a directive brought about in part by the government of the country I come from. This is a country with Latin roots and Slavic influences and a barrage of other peoples in between. A country with rolling hills and sprawling plains and soaring mountains and beautiful beaches. This untapped, undiscovered, "wild" part of Europe is going to be my home. And here, I shouldn't scoff at the national pride these people carry as they emerge from a centuries old struggle for power and order and self-rule. I cannot laugh at the patriotism as I sometimes do here in the States, for in Romania I feel it has been earned more valiantly, and certainly more recently.
I should be clear that I too am patriotic, I too feel proud of my country in so many ways. When I laugh at patriotism, it is the kind that asserts itself in blatant and hateful ways. Patriotism that excludes people and uses superlatives and invokes God to justify campaigns of misinformation or self-interest around the world. And in Romania, these people have much to be proud of- but it will be nice to exist in a place that hasn't recently invaded someone else. And I promised this post wouldn't contain anything serious or insightful. Ha.

9. Romania is apparently a "couple centric society." Meaning that it is generally unacceptable (according to the book I read and different sites I have browsed) for women to go out in groups together. Additionally, it is apparently perfectly common to get offers of marriage on the street or the bus, or to get fixed up with every available young man your school contact knows. So here are the options as I currently see them: I could lead a desperate and lonely couple-less life in Bucharest. I could endure the annoyance of being constantly fixed up with unsuspecting young men. Or I could meet someone. Hmm...

I wonder which one my mom is most fearful of. Her biggest concern (after the chance that I will be sold into some kind of sex-trafficking ring... we have a code-word, don't worry) is that I will find an abandoned baby and stay into Romania until I can officially adopt it.

My biggest concern is that I won't.

Just joking.

Momentary Living

We officially booked our flights last night. Flying out of Chicago on August 30 gives me an actual, real, tangible date. A specific point in time that I can measure and count down to and plan for.

I should clarify something. When I say "we," I am talking about myself and someone else. I basically began looking into a position in Romania as a result of a conversation I had with this person. We both went to Romania in May of 2009 through a trip with school, and it was here that I left a portion of my heart. We talked a lot about life after graduation, and D~ casually (I thought) mentioned going back to Romania. I began looking into this possibility and did some quick research and applying and interviewing. When I jokingly invited D~ to Bucharest after getting confirmation of a teaching job, he also decided to pursue a year teaching English in Romania. So, I am lucky enough to have someone both familiar and terribly entertaining to embark on this journey with. And it is truly an inexpressible comfort to know someone in the same hemisphere, time zone, and country.

Anyway- we are now the owners of real and actual tickets for a real and actual flight to Romania. My entire life, I have been looking forward to the future. And while there is nothing wrong with anticipation, I fear that I am missing things on the way. This blog is obviously about teaching in Romania, but I am acutely aware that everything this summer will impact that up and coming time. Every experience in my entire life is contributing to the experience I will have in Romania, and for obvious reasons they matter tremendously.

And so with resolve, I am committing to "momentary living." Not living for a moment, but living through the moments. A million little things happen daily that I don't want to miss, especially as I look forward to this looming departure date. For I am in danger of living on the surface for this entire summer, simply existing without being affected or creating an effect. I am committing to acknowledging the insignificant, the chol, the seemingly meaningless.

In in that spirit, here are wonderful kid quotes from the day:

Munchkin #5: "You have a red face Stephanie. And it is kinda soggy."

Munchkin #2: (With a wave of the wand) "I declare it shall be COLD. Chillium! Wow! I feel it working already."

Munchkin #6: "I like these things."
Stephanie: "What things?"
Munchkin #6: "These round things under your shirt."

Chol

I am working this summer for the Jewish Community Center in Chicago. As a counselor at a day camp, I work with 13 girls entering first grade in the fall. As a non-Jewish counselor at this particular day camp, I have a lot of questions and a lot of ignorance concerning things that are completely normal for most of my colleagues. Because of this, I have had the opportunity to learn an incredible amount about a culture I was previously unexposed to. And much of this mirrors what I am expecting to experience in Romania, in a lot of little ways.

For instance, there were a lot of humorous times in my week of staff training. I had no idea what “keeping kosher” meant, and still had to ask about a million questions to clarify once I learned the definition. Just so everyone knows, meat and dairy products must be consumed separately. Not only in separate bites, but in separate meals (I got a lot of weird looks for this question). Additionally, the “ch” sound in Hebrew most closely resembles an “h” sound with a wad of phlegm in the throat- this means that “chug” on the weekly schedule is not an invitation to down a quick drink but to learn about Israeli culture.

One of the things that I learned this week about the Jewish culture is the importance of “separation.” Whatever you want to take from this, the ancient Israelites, while wandering in the wilderness, established a pattern of separating the “holy” from the sand (“chol”). In order to remain faithful and in connection with the Divine, they established rituals of separation- both of time and of food. Time, of course, is what I have heard called “Sabbath,” and they call it “Shabbat.”

I celebrated Shabbat for the first time last week, and it was an observance of joy and beauty. There is something good and pure about honoring time, setting aside specified moments to simply reflect. This is time separate from the rest of the stuff that clutters the moment, the day, the week, the lifetime.

I am completely in agreement and understanding that time set apart to be sacred is incredibly meaningful and beneficial. However, I have also been thinking a lot about the “chol.” The sand of the wilderness, the everyday tasks, the moments of normalcy- these are all becoming beautiful to me. I am coming to anticipate a lot of chol in my life in Romania. And if I try to find the exquisite in the regular of simply loving people and teaching children and living life, I have a feeling the sacred will be even more spectacular.