Friday, December 24, 2010

College Friendships

When a group of college friends meet to celebrate the wedding of one of their children, the meaning of friendship for over 40 years becomes special! Though this was not the first time we came together for a wedding such as this, it is my current sojourn, albeit for 27 months (16 down, 11 more to go) in Macedonia which has brought this camaraderie sharply into focus.

We met after we arrived as students at the University of Florida in late 1960's and had no family to celebrate the holidays with - and we became a 'family', staying in touch after graduation and jobs which took us to many different States in America. It is remarkable that after marriage the spouses accepted this friendship, with the same spirit that first brought us together and continue to welcome us into their homes without reservations further strengthening the bonds.

Though we all have since those days added many more friendships, I continue to marvel at this special relationship formed by strangers needing some kind of anchor at a time when travel was limited, there was no internet and computers filled huge rooms.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Rituals, Faith and Funerals


Faith and belief play a strong role in shaping the rituals surrounding birth, marriage, and death. In my small city observing and participating in the rituals of a funeral presented itself on one clear Monday morning in October.

On my way to work six weeks ago, I waved nonchalantly to two of my colleagues standing by the side of the road near the entrance to the side door to my office, deep in conversation probably related to the newly torn up earth where a new roadbed was being laid.  Across the window of my ground level office, in a different direction I could see a crowd gathering. In the early hours of the morning a citizen, struggling to recover from a debilitating stroke had died. This was not a good start to the day.

A little after noon, I went over to one of the offices to see if I there was anything I could do as my colleagues were standing looking very distraught. One of my two colleagues I had waved to earlier in the morning was dead – of a heart attack! Not knowing the proper Macedonian words to express my shock and grief and uncertain of the sequence of events, I suspended the English lesson that I teach to my colleagues. Soon knowing that no other work could be done, they started to leave for home, after a collection was made for a donation to the family of the deceased.

Next morning my friend took me under her wing and took me to the deceased’s home early in the afternoon. I entered the living room to find my colleague’s body lying in a coffin, surrounded by flowers and gift boxes of candy and chocolates. Beside him was a temporary aluminum tray filled with tiny earth-colored pebbles and a stack of church candles. I placed a small donation and lit a candle in his memory. I was asked to sit down along with the other mourners and offered a small glass of Rakia (a local alcoholic drink), followed by one piece of candy.  I partook both as instructed by my friend prior to entry.

As additional mourners entered the room, I went and waited outside. Shortly afterwards a procession formed outside the apartment building, led by young children holding flowers in their hands, followed by high school children. The priest went ahead of the hearse, his wife and children. His extended family, friends, colleagues and townspeople followed behind, some in cars, though most of us walked about one km to Sveti Bogodorica, the Eastern Orthodox Christian church.  Only the family and coffin were taken inside the small church, while we waited outside for the completion of this phase of the service. After about 20 minutes, the procession started towards the cemetery. This path went past the new home that was being built by the deceased and it was a heart-rending poignant moment for all to hear the anguished sounds of the family when they passed the home that would never be occupied by the husband and father to two teenagers, whose life had come to a sudden end.

At the cemetery the open coffin was placed on two sturdy 2x4’s spanning the open ground and prayers were said.  The wife and children then placed a newspaper and other favorite articles of clothing before covering the face with the shroud and closing the coffin. The 2x4’s were removed and coffin lowered into place on two sturdy ropes that were removed once it settled on the ground. The priest put the first symbolic piece of dirt in the wife’s hand and she threw it on the coffin, followed by the children and close family, then friends, colleagues, neighbors, townspeople, etc. 

The lunch was preceded by a sip of Rakia, which was consumed by first pouring a little bit to the ground (symbolic inclusion of the deceased), followed by a spoonful of boiled whole wheat grain and finally a small piece of blessed bread, a bit of both were saved by the side of the plate. After the meal, as we left the cemetery, we dropped the piece of bread behind us, without turning around to keep the spirits following into our homes.

Last Friday, six weeks after the death of my colleague, another collection was made and I learned that another service was to be held. Once again we gathered at the deceased home and walked behind a procession led by the priest and the family, but this time directly to the cemetery. Candles were passed to the mourners at the gravesite, which were lit during the prayers and snuffed out upon completion and returned to the church. This was followed by a meal and we partook of the same rakia, whole wheat and blessed bread before the meal. At both meals we were given plastic bags and as the sweets and savories were served, each of us took a piece and placed it in the bag to take it back home with us.

I apologize for any errors of understanding, but from now on every year on January 7 (Christmas day of the Eastern Orthodox Church, the date on the Gregorian calendar which corresponds to December 25 on the Julian calendar) all the townspeople who have lost a family member will once again prepare food and go to the cemetery, laying the plates on the gravestones. Mourners will come and light one candle and take a snack (usually in a bag) –symbolic of sharing a meal with the family member who is living in another world, unseen but there with the family on this day.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Sveti Pre-Obrazene, Zrze




 On the road to village Zrze, the monastery is seen folded into the side of the mountain. The picture below is from a brochure simply because it occurred to me that it would be so much fun to climb up the hill behind the monastery looking down and someone had already had the same thought!






My best days are usually linked to a spontaneous decision. Walking back from work on Friday, wondering what was the best thing to do on a forecasted warm sunny Saturday, I impulsively invited two of my fellow volunteers to join me for a visit to a monastery built near the village of Zrze about 30 km from my home. This site was chosen by monks as early as the 4th century, high above the Pelagonia plains on the western ring of mountains, which form the eastern mountains of my municipality.
 
Only Candy Wiggum was free, so around 10:30 am right after the sun had burned the low fog that settles into the M. Brod valley in fall and spring, we walked over and invited my Macedonian friend Cena to join us. She was not available, so we took a taxi, knowing full well that the track to the monastery from the village of Zrze at the bottom of the hill is designed more for a 4x4 and not a car. Well we were in no hurry, so we negotiated that the taxi will wait 3 hours for us to allow enough time for us to climb up and back and spend quality time at the monastery.
 
Ahh, it was a magical sight when we first spotted the monastery in the distance and not only were we eager to scale the cliff, so was our taxi driver – whose Aunt, as it turns out was a resident of the village and our driver – Smiler had last visited the monastery 30 years ago!  Expecting him to stop the car and inform us that he could go no further, we held our breath as he slowly went up the steep, twisted road with deep gulley’s from water run off.  Higher and higher he went and at one point we asked him to stop to allow us to take some pictures, when it finally dawned on us that he wanted to go there too and his Peugeot would make it!  The pictures speak for themselves, so I will give a brief historical recap.
 
Though the early 4th century monks lived in the caves, by the 5th century a church and a citadel were built housing a vibrant community - the ruins of basilica are currently under excavation and restoration and lie a little to the north of the current church.  The site of the current basilica was built in the 9th century, with additions in the 14th when it was turned into a male coenobitic* monastery and the church dedicated to the Holy Transfiguration of Christ.  Many 14th century murals were restored in the 17th century and for a period of time during communism, it became the home of two nuns, Matushka Irina (1891-1962), a noblewoman and escapee from the Bolshevik revolution and her companion, who died in 1975. In 1998 it was re-established as a monastic community with male monks.

* In the dictionary of the Coptic Orthodox Church, coenobitic monasticism is defined as a type of monasticism established by Abba Bakhomious, Father of the Community, in the third century, where monks or nuns live a communal life in a monastery or convent.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

More on Makedonski Brod

This link to Chris Deliso's article is a fabulous piece on Makedonski Brod.

The reason why my community has this name is because there is another Brod in the Balkans and this is a handy way to distinguish the two.  In all Macedonian publications it is referenced as M.Brod, Mak. Brod or Makedonski Brod.  The locals including myself just say Brod when we travel between villages and to and from the bigger cities of Macedonia

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Why I Fell in Love with Makedonski Brod


Walking early this morning with overcast skies, threatening to rain, but just holding off, I felt a sense of balance with my surroundings.  Why is it that I fell in love with this isolated small city nestled along the river gorge? I love the solitude that comes from the forested mountains, enveloping the harsh sounds of people at work, absorbing the foul odors of motor vehicles and the occasional shrill voices of birds that fly across my path.

My mind flew back almost 50 years to that summer traveling through Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary in Kerala. I must have been 6 or 7 years old, but that lake, the government guesthouse with the wide verandah and large square flagstone remains imbedded in my memory. Each time I recall those memories I cannot remember family or friends, only the sound of the wind whistling in the trees, the sight of a lone fox startled by the sweep of the car headlamps, the elephants washing themselves by the side of the lake. I recall leaning out of the side of the boat looking to spot the magical fish that fly through the air!

Thoughts are magical as they allow me to cross the time barrier indiscriminately and suddenly I am on a bike riding the steep, oh so steep hills surrounding my home at the military base outside the city of Poona, now called Pune as a wave of nationalist fervor consumes the Indians hell bent on reclaiming the names of their ancient cities, polluted by anglicized names. I remember a winding road going up and up and stopping at the bridge to look down on the river (?), road (?)  or was it just a cow path at the base of the hills and feeling that I am in a place of earthly paradise! This time I remember my friend Sutapa and I spent countless hours exploring the countryside in tune with the butterflies and birds in the hot sun and not a worry in the world.

Digging a hole in the ground and lighting charcoal briquettes till they were white hot and covering them with a layer of dirt.  Placing marinated chicken pieces wrapped in foil and burying it with more dirt! What joy to camp by the side of the river in some farmer's meadow outside Corvallis, Oregon in the coastal range of mountain. Digging up the meal after a trek to find the chicken cooked, moist, dripping with spiced juices! Learned how to wrap a white flour dough around a stick and slowly bake (?) roast (?) it till it became our bread to mop up the juices from the succulent chicken.

Now where was I? Oh, I was walking along the side of the road hugging the River Treska in the narrow gorge west of Makedonski Brod. Look where I ended up – my childhood memories swirling around my head, at peace with myself. The hills are swathed with muted brown leaves of the local dab (oak) and beech trees, more reminiscent of the colors of Japanese paintings and less of the bright golden, red, brown maples of North America. It is with this sense of stillness that comes with emptying the mind that I can walk away my fears and the nagging sense of my inadequate language skills, unable to express the beauty of my surroundings to my native friends.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Lunch Diplomacy


More on culture and traditions! After a Mexican Fiesta for our Macedonian friends two Saturdays ago, at which only a handful showed up, many still wanted to “taste” the food. Though they appear to be emancipated working-women, my colleagues from work are unable to move freely without censure in the evenings and weekends.

So I volunteered to host a quick lunch during the half an-hour long midday break during a working day, making one of the items from the fiesta – chili.   I added fresh parsley potatoes to the menu using my first batch of homegrown parsley. The lunch menu was rounded out by a bag of tortilla chips, which were purchased in one of the big international stores in Skopje.

In order to rustle up this meal, I took a longer break, in fact I went to work only for one hour and that was to make sure that my guests were coming! The lunch was a success.  Now, if I continue to host lunches such as this every couple of weeks, will that be considered a skills transfer or just a “fun break” from work for my colleagues?  

Volunteers in Macedonia are either CD’s or TEFL’s. CD is the acronym for Community Development and TEFL stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language.  Having been assigned to the CD sector because I stated that I have no teaching experience and have no interest in teaching during my period of service, I find that my biggest contribution to the skills transfer aspect of my service is teaching English and sharing culinary skills every once in a while!

Monday, October 25, 2010

Field Day


Learning the culture and traditions of our adopted countries is only one aspect of service. Following in the footsteps of an individual or a group by repeating an event or some actions can give rise to traditions.  Here in Macedonia an annual event named Field Day has become a poignant MAK tradition.
This event takes place in October, usually 6 weeks after the arrival of the new group of Peace Corps trainees. Within another six weeks all the volunteers completing their 27 months of service will have left Macedonia as RPCV’s (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers).
On the one hand there is the hope-filled energy and excitement brought by the new group who are learning about Macedonian culture and traditions, its’ aspirations to join the EU, the different cities and villages where they may be assigned after the completion of training.  They learn about the different ethnicities that don’t call themselves Macedonians, but Albanians, Roma, Vlach, Bosniaks and Turks, even though they have lived through 4 or 5 generations on this land. 
On the other hand there is talk of plans to travel through other regions of the world, what graduate school options await them or just waiting to go back to the States and chill out. There are those volunteers who have formally extended their service for another year and must take one month off from site.  Other volunteers, who have delayed their COS (close of service date), as there is some unfinished work at their sites and they will leave in a few months.
All during this time, my peers and I are busy organizing “getting to know each other games”, setting up the pot-luck picnic lunch and selling souvenir calendar and t-shirts.  We also manage the rummage sale of bits and pieces of paraphernalia, such as waffle makers, blenders, irons, extension cords, musical instruments, stationary bikes, clothes, shoes, handbags, etc., that the departing volunteers no longer need and that would be useful for the incoming volunteers. We nod our heads, listen, smile as all these conflicting emotions flow around us, thinking that it was just the other day we were the newbies’ and didn’t have a clue of where we were going to live and what it would entail.
Time is a very elusive concept for a volunteer! Time goes incredibly slowly when we are throwing out ideas at site hoping one will stick.  We wait for things to happen for days at a time and nothing happens – so we start a hobby, learn to cook, read an incredible amount of books, learn about new internet sites to watch free movies and TV shows, maintain a blog and/or multiple facebook pages, take an incredible amount of pictures of everything dreaming of turning it into an album, a photo exhibit, etc. 
Then a project sticks and there are not enough hours in the day to fine-tune the details and get things off the ground – designing, scanning, printing, are not the quick trip to Kinko’s at midnight, but can take a few days to load everything on a flash drive, go to the nearest city in a combe (minibus) get things printed and come back to find your flash drive has picked up a virus. Things start happening and you are soaring on the top of the world, feeling that you have arrived.  Some projects work and others don’t and sometimes the unexpected happens and the project disappears from our grasp. You learn how to function in a simultaneously structured and unstructured environment! A place where time flies by and doesn’t move at all!
Field Day takes place in Skopje – the capital city rapidly growing into an international destination as development money has opened up Macedonia to international tourism. I can go to the movie theater, a Bob Dylan concert and attend a weeklong jazz festival. I can buy butter (not in my town), peanut butter and avocado.  I can shop in an upscale international mall or walk along the river on a wide river walk and eat at restaurants offering more than Macedonian foods.
Then reality sets in when I call my combe bus driver and he asks me to wait for him at 5:00pm and he doesn’t arrive till 6:00pm.  I am not complaining, as I know he will not leave me stranded and he will pick me up from the street corner most convenient for me in the big city.  This is, after all, only one example of the cultural experiences that I had volunteered for.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Macedonian Independence Day

Waiting at 6 am outside the Cultural Center, I couldn’t believe my luck! When I heard on Monday that our local 4-person music group using a Flute, a Gaida (a bag pipe and not the Scottish bagpipe though there are similarities), a guitar (4-string instrument looks like a mandolin) and a drum; was going to perform in the eastern Macedonian city of Strumica on Wednesday September 8th for the Independence Day music festival, I asked if I could join them and they agreed!

First a little bit about the peaceful birth of the Republic of Macedonia when it gained its independence from Yugoslavia, where it was a federal state, and became a sovereign parliamentary democracy.
"Dear citizens of Macedonia, allow me tonight to you and to all citizens of Macedonia to congratulate the free, sovereign and independent Macedonia," said the former President of the Republic of Macedonia Kiro Gligorov 19 years ago addressing the citizens who spontaneously gathered at Macedonia Square to celebrate the successful referendum at which Macedonian citizens voted for independent and sovereign state.
On September 8, 1991 over 95,5% of the citizens voted for independence of the Republic Macedonia……. The will of the people for independent state was confirmed with the declaration for acceptance of the results from the referendum on September 18, 1991 at the Macedonian Parliament.” ….Turkish Weekly

Back to my story: Though a little late getting started, we made our way east in a combi, through regional roads winding around picturesque valleys and villages, avoiding the main highway. Though mountainous and moderate climate prevails throughout Macedonia, the narrow mountain valleys differ enough in soil and microclimates to favor one crop over the other. In the region of Kavardarci and Negotino grapes abound, while the fields surrounding the small town of Valando figs and pomegranates’ are abundant. Macedonians make preserves, wines and a brandy like drink called rakija from all the fruit that they cannot consume – so with the ripened figs we made a few stops to pick ups kilo’s of figs for a preserve called “smokva slatko”, smokva being the Macedonian word for figs and slatko translated as gold.  Soon we were in slightly unfamiliar territory and took some wrong turns in the mountain roads, as we were not headed for Strumica but, much to my amazement and delight a small village called Koleshino.

Reminiscent of Robin Hood’s Sherwood Forest, the forested glade had a spring winding down the side of the hill. Upstream where the spring dropped down a sheer face about 10 meters, a stage had been set up with the small waterfall making a picturesque backdrop. One of the largest bridges had seating for VIP’s while the remaining people found many rocks and nooks and crannies facing the stage to watch the performance. The path from the lower reaches to the stage had little hospitality tables set up with traditional foods that were made by the local village women and served free was the icing on the cake. It was charming, ingenious and a delightful outdoor music festival.

At the end of the festival another surprise showing an unexpected but very Macedonian concept of time. Our music group and one from the town of Probistip were invited for a cup of coffee by the host of the festivities in an adjacent village called Novo Celo, which literally means New Village!  Almost every municipality has a village with the name Novo Celo!  With creative people in our midst, the coffee time became a sing-along!

Close to 4 o’clock, I was ready for the long three-hour drive home. However, barely twenty minutes out, we stopped at a grocery store. I was only to find out 5 minutes later when we pulled into the driveway of a farmhouse, that we were not ready to drive straight back home. We enjoyed the hospitality of drinks, coffee, farm fruits and aforementioned smokva slatko. A farmhouse reminiscent of one in the villages of Punjab, India down to the family life and the hospitality!

By nightfall when we were about 45 minutes away from home, we stopped for refreshments and squeezed in a couple of young boys looking for a ride to one of the villages on our way.  In our community there is a strong sense of looking out for each other and often people will sit uncomfortably for long rides and patiently wait till the driver picks up or drops passengers slightly off the main route. This is strikingly different from our culture back home as we expect public transport to stick to given routes and published times!

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Summer Wrap-up

The last two months did not go by in a flash, as much as a being a period of intense activity similar to those college days when there was no time to write home - the overarching schedule of classes, exam and term deadlines and extra-curricular activities that was a nagging reminder of things that needed to be done. This summer I had no time to collect my thoughts in a coherent manner to maintain a blog.

The first such intense activity was as a junior financial coordinator of a summer camp for girls aptly named GLOW for girls leading our world. This brought me in close contact with 80+ host country girls from high school and 17 PC volunteers for 10 days in July. Mentoring, new friendships, and demanding activities every day gave me no time to write a journal, let alone a blog! This was followed by a once in a lifetime experience of participating in an archeological dig at the site of “Bylazora”. This dig is at a stage where digging with spades and shovels in the hot sun is the rule. Very little of this city has been uncovered, so it is a physically demanding exercise, always done in the hot summer sun which dries the soil, making it friable and less likely to damage the underlying ancient construction.

By the first week of August, my much needed vacation to Turkey with Gita rolled around. Though Istanbul is an amazing city in itself and worth a whole blog, we didn’t only stop there. After 3 days we were off to a region called Cappadocia, south of the capital, Ankara. This roughly triangular plain lying between three, now extinct volcanoes about 60-100 km apart, was once covered with lava and later compressed by a sea. Subsequent receding of the water followed by wind erosion shaped this rock into very interesting formations. Driving through the vast collection of rocks and the cave homes in this rock, first built by the Hittites and now inhabited by modern Turks is equivalent to visiting the Grand Canyon. No pictures or language can capture that magical spirit of being there. We also opted to float over this landscape in a balloon, a highly recommended activity. This sensation of floating serenely over the land would be closest to the experience of ‘being’ a bird, because we were not rushing by as in a plane. Even a small Cessna bi-plane moves so fast compared to a balloon. Off again to the Aegean coast to the beach near Kusadasi and the Roman ruins of Ephesus. We visited the last home of the Virgin Mary – Meryem Ana Evi as well as the ancient city of Pamukkale further inland. Turkey was full of surprises in more ways than one – modern roads, no old cars on the roads, fancy buses and ancient history – a heady mix!

Now, as the weather is shifting from the searing hot days to cool early mornings (high 40’s to 50’s F) and with the schools starting on Sept 1st and my colleagues returning from their vacations, my pre-summer routine of morning walks and visiting neighbors in the evenings sandwiching the work day is back. A welcome change from the summer months.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Physical Therapy

Walking into a foreign hospital or medical office held an indescribable fear. Will I be able to describe my symptoms without misunderstanding and how will the doctors explain the diagnosis and treatment to me?

For at routine conversations at my small rural municipality I am troubled by the translations, as they tend to be a summary of what is being said, without the complexities of a carefully chosen word, the intonation and inflections by which the discussion is enriched or a complex problem of developing a program or strategy is achieved. These subtleties are what translators of great literature strive to achieve over the course of a lifetime, or even the simultaneous translators at world institutions when they translate books or political discourse respectively. Work thus progresses at a snails pace because neither side truly understands how to explain the sub-context of a jointly developed sustainable program. This personal experience is what made me somewhat anxious for the therapy at a local hospital.

So I walk into the entrance hall of the hospital in Prilep, only to see a woman, nonchalantly carrying a pistol in one hand as she walked past me out through the entrance doors. I had no time to react or even see if there was a place to hide or run to if bedlam broke out. It didn’t. Phew! I had already called the english-speaking intern? resident? staff? who was to meet me and not only take me to take me to the doctor’s office but also act as my translator. He was surprised when I told him what I saw and then claimed it must have been security. Well she sure didn’t wear any identifying clothes and gun safely tucked in a holster!

I followed meekly as he led me through a typical labyrinth of corridors all hospitals seem to have, some unlit and some lit till we arrived at a small office, where I did not receive a standard orthopedic examination of my knee. The doctor had me sitting while she did a cursory examination and wrote out a series of exercises in a hospital card. She obviously had spoken to my PCMO and spoke no English, so she did not explain the details of the therapy before taking me to the physical therapy unit. My translator then left. I knew I could call the PCMO anytime, so I did not pepper her with questions.

The physical therapy unit was located in a building adjacent to the hospital. There is no private room in this unit. The six cubicles curtained off, but each contained one or two beds, one or two machines stacked on top of each other and two people sitting on each bed which wires strapped on different parts of their bodies receiving therapy. There was no changing of the linen or use of paper to prevent spread of infection when patients were moved from station to station, which involved uncovering legs, hands, shoulders and lower back in some cases. I would pull up my skirt or loose pants up to my thigh to enable the placing of the electrodes and bury my head in the books I took everyday. The sponge like pads holding the electrodes were washed (whether in cold water or a germicide, I had no clue) before being placed on (1) either side of my leg just above the knee, (2) either side above and below and (3) either side of my knee at three different stations that were on y card and a current set in a series of strengths and pulsating bursts. After this treatment I lay on a bed for 30 minutes (without change of sheets – so coming early to be the first is what I aimed for) with my legs in a magnetic ring. Often falling asleep during this cycle as reading a book was extremely difficult holding it straight up!

The electrical –magnetic treatment was followed by physical manipulation to strengthen my hamstrings in a room with was filled during the 9 days I was there with children undergoing exercises for their scoliosis treatment. I must say that the therapy was real effective and I felt no pain or swelling during my two-week follow-up exam with my PCMO. I still have discomfort as the minor arthritis in my knee has been aggravated and as it was a preexisting condition Washington PCMO refuses to approve further treatment as suggested by the local PCMO.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

A Visit to the PC Office

I took the early morning (4:40 am) combe on Friday to Skopje for an appointment with the PCMO (peace corps medical officer). A month ago, I had foolishly let the adrenaline in my system push me from walking the 5K Humanitarian Walk into running the last kilometer as all the marathoners were streaking past me finishing up the second half of their run. My mind, stuck in the past egged me into an easy lope, which became faster and faster as I descended into a time warp and made it across the finish line less than 50 minutes!

So now I have to pay for my foolishness as I damaged the cartilage of my twice-operated on right knee. Fortunately the meniscii, whatever was left after tearing them up twice, the first time back in 1991 held steady and let the cartilage take the beating this time. After all home remedies fail, I am going in for a cortisone shot to relieve the pain and let me go about my daily business as if nothing untoward is wrong with me.

I meet another volunteer and we have typical Macedonian breakfast pastries in a bakery close to the PC office. I choose the flaky pastry crust sans filling as my friend digs her teeth into a jam filled one. After breakfast, we find ourselves in an office supply store close by. It not as big as Office Max and would probably fit into the space we devote to one checkout corner, but it was stocked choc-a-block with what we truly need. I picked up a roll of cello tape and a picture frame for less than 100 denari.

It’s still early and as we are the first volunteers there we head into the lower level library. This is by far my favorite place in Skopje, with it’s two big upholstered chairs and a sofa just big enough to take a nap during the day, when it is hot outside. And of course the books, rows and rows of them. I joined the library committee and learned to label the books using the Dewey decimal system and feel so connected to the books now. My home away from home in Skopje. Moreover, it is air-conditioned! There are three computers that connect me to planet earth, my friends and family. One of the bookcases serves as a mini “thrift shop” clothes and other knick-knacks left behind by outgoing volunteers for the benefit of incoming volunteers. I have found a blender, a duffel bag in addition to socks and shirts that have made their way without my realizing it, into my place in far away Makedonski Brod! This is close to heaven!

Soon volunteers start drifting it – it a meeting day for one of the many committees we like to be involved in and Friday is a favorite day to schedule this official time away from site. When a few of the staff see me, they remember they wanted to see me for one thing or the other. Really! I am reminded of the expression “out of sight, out of mind”. In my case the expression “in sight - in mind” is more true! It is incredibly busy today. Maybe it is busy like this everyday. I don't know as I don't come often - it takes about 6 1/2 hours round trip on a combe to come here. Now I know some volunteers in other countries may think I am nit-picking because it may take them 16 hours one way to get to the PC office. I want to assure all my readers that I am not complaining, just stating why for me - I only make this trip if I just have too.

Anyway, I meet the MO and get my shot and as I have a couple of hours before my next meeting with the PO, I walk over to the green market. Though I wanted to pick up the berries, I stick with lettuce and spinach. Not that I don’t get these things back at my little rural town – it’s just that Friday is also green market “Pazar” day at site and these two items will be gone before I return back home. I also needed to get my dark glasses fixed and there is no optician at site. Not finding anyone in the pazar to replace one of those tiny screws that keep the frames together, I wander out to the stores outside the pazar and find an optician. I proudly proceed to tell her in Macedonian that it s broken, but realize I haven’t the vaguest idea how to say, will you be able to repair it? After speaking to me in Macedonian she just takes the glasses and asks me for my name which she writes on a piece of paper and a time 13:00 to 14:00. Ahh, I get it – she wants me to come back at that time. OK, I leave my glasses in her hands – hoping she doesn’t present me with a new frame and a bill I cannot pay when I return. When an english speaker like myself is in a non-english speaking world, trust is what you operate on. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. When I return at 2 pm there are my glasses, as good as new and she doesn’t want any money!
Toa e toa!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

A Random Day

When I was scrubbing the soap soaked fabric in a grayish soapy solution this morning, taking up the most of my Sunday morning, my thoughts flew to pre service days when I was preparing myself for the possibility of being in a country where this was the only option to wash clothes. I saw most challenges through rose-tinted glasses, a romantic notion quite different from going through the process day in and day out!
Today I have a week’s worth of clothes, one pair of pants, two pajama bottoms, one t-shirt and underwear! I skipped washing the dress, two shirts and 3 pairs of socks and it still took half a day because the bucket I use holds only one pair of pants at a time. After rubbing the fabric together, I rinse it out in another bucket 2 to 3 times before wringing and hanging it to dry. Serendipitously, there was no rain and the wet clothes on the line just dripped down into the garden below! Takes longer to dry but oh so much easier than wringing it all winter when drying took place indoors next to or on my heater!
Macedonian families have and use washing machines. Though my place had an old washing machine, it couldn’t be fixed even after a couple of trips by the handyman. I still have mixed feelings about not having a machine because most of the time it doesn’t bother me as I wash a couple of items every other day. However, when I add the towel and kitchen cloths and even my easy to wash polartec jackets or when I return from a training session, I dream of my laundry room back home.
With my focus on washing and reviewing the week’s language lesson plans, I forgot that I had emptied my fridge not only of all perishables – but also the meats. This is what was in my fridge - a bottle of Sano fruit juice, half a box of 0.9% milk, which surprisingly was still good; a hunk of cheese, a small bottle of spaghetti sauce and a jar of pickled hot peppers. The freezer had only ice cream. So last night I had pasta with spaghetti sauce and one banana (one of the two I purchased at the green bazaar in Skopje before my return home). This morning my usual bowl of cereal with the second banana and a lunch with lentils and homemade flat bread.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Roma Mother and Daughter

Traveling through Europe on many occasions, especially in the early 1970’s I had always been warned to be careful of “gypsies”. Imagine my surprise as an Indian-American when I learned that these “gypsies” now known throughout Europe as Roma did in fact migrate from the Indian subcontinent anywhere from four to eight centuries ago! My first reaction was disbelief – I had never learned about any such migration. I knew about the migrations to textile mills of UK, the railroad workers in East Africa, even farmers migrating to the Western coasts of USA and Canada, to the Fiji Islands and the Caribbean as well as the south East Asia in the last two centuries.

Side Note: I surmised this must have taken place so long ago that there would remain only traces of their ethnic lineage among them – intermingled with the local cultures in which they had adapted themselves. No different really from the three generations in America from the subcontinent who have mainstreamed into the overarching American culture with their grandchildren already of mixed ethnicities. Here, everyone is defined by their ethnicity, so much so that when I was assembling a Macedonian panel, I was asked if I was excluding Albanians, Vlach, Roma, etc. I used Macedonian the way I use American – nationality defined by political boundaries and not ethnicities.

Back on track: Here in Macedonia the Roma are struggling with poverty and lack of education, many in the big cities resorting to thievery and unskilled manual labor to make ends meet. Isolated from these problems as I am living in a small city in central Macedonia, I was charmed when I met a young Roma girl Jansula, and her mother Susana in the little village of approximately 30 inhabitants close to the city of Probistip last weekend. The young mother’s reaction to my skin color was one of delight and expressed of course, by a desire to join her and her daughter for a cup of coffee in her home. Needless to say I am always ready for that umpteenth cup of coffee and intrigued by this opportunity to connect on a personal level.

Jansula’s married sister and her brother worked and lived in Germany, while her father worked in a city called Kriva Palanka. Jansula’s uncle from Germany had sent her a ‘dress up’ Indian skirt and top with matching bracelets, which she gladly changed into to model for me. Susana served us the traditional coffee accompanied with ‘sok’ (Macedonian for soda pop) together with a tasty corncake and a snack – which eerily reminded me of an Indian dessert – made with flour, butter and nuts. I am disappointed at myself for forgetting to take a picture of the dessert.

It was heartwarming to experience her hospitality and the feeling I had that this family was living a little village without facing the discrimination common in big cities. Roberto and Jansula join me at the local restaurant, store, senior center and teen hangout all rolled into one public building.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Dealing with Stress

Finally, the dreary overcast rainy weather has given way to a couple of days of clear blue skies and sunshine. Both wild and cultivated, spring flowers nourished by the rain and with the warmth of the sun are abundant everywhere, ushering in a new mood as mother earth shakes off the blanket of snow. Earth Day, now come and gone, a reminder that we need to protect what mother earth gives with abundance, a renewal and a promise. Why does stress enter into this idyllic picture? A disturbance of that unique emotional balance that we maintain in our day to day lives can create stress – a word spoken here, a word spoken there, an action that floods us with emotion.
Since April 21, when I began this writing I have gone from the top of the mountain down into an abyss. Now I am alone moping about with a nightmarish cough without the close support of a network of friends or the companionship of a spouse and the laughter of my children about me. So what happened? How can a common variety sore throat throw me off balance? This is a time when even small acts of omission take on significant meanings. Why don’t I feel like facing anyone or going out into the glorious nature that I just mentioned in an earlier paragraph? Why am I unable to see any accomplishments – only a feeling of standing still, getting nothing done. What kind of experience did I think I would have reliving a childhood dream? Did I really think I could make a difference in people’s lives just by being myself – self assured, cocky and independent? Where is that self-assurance now? How did I end up teaching adults English without teaching experience, creating lesson plans that fall apart in class? What results do I expect from this? Organizational change? A few people may emulate my can-do spirit, but like I am today, will also get discouraged and disheartened. They don’t have a safety valve like I do of “going back home”.
To be really honest, this disturbance of my equilibrium started not with the common cold, but with listening about the dark undercurrents in human relationships – unable to forgive and forget minor (minuscule is probably more accurate) slights and continue to remain mired in age-old problems, repeating ad infinitum the same behavior. Some family members excluding each other out of their lives and their celebrations, others isolating one from the other with impossibly difficult to understand reasons of past conversations real or imagined. No culture seems to be immune from this nonsense.
Yesterday, I read a piece of fiction – not a classic in any sense of the word – but a refreshing tale of companionship. Five strangers who converge over a creative and collaborative piece of art – a quilt and how that positive energy finally transforms their daily lives back home. Though the book lifted my spirits, you my reader, who is now fulfilling the triple role of my network of friends, companionship of my spouse and the laughter of my children have sustained me throughout my sojourn here!

Friday, April 16, 2010

Daily Challenges

Just when I feel confident of my ability to ‘negotiate’ my way with the combi drivers, I am reminded how easily my confidence evaporates! Last Saturday, I made an impulsive trip to attend a teacher’s conference at the South Eastern European University at Tetovo – a city I had never traveled to before. I certainly had prepared myself by checking google earth – both the location of the campus and the landmark that I had to get off at, before calling the combi driver. I told him where I wanted to go and where I needed to get off. He told me fine and the time the combi will leave my town.
What he didn’t tell me was that this was the weekend he was off work! I came to know only after being picked up! I am quite happy with the friendly competition between the drivers because they come to the police station adjacent to my house to pick me up. My first clue was the combi did not have the correct markings when he arrived. The second was that he was not driving, but directing the driver to the various stops to pick passenger’s up. After circling the town and picking up all his passenger's, he informed the driver where we were to be dropped and got off!
As we pulled into Tetovo, the driver of this combi dropped me at a corner short of my destination or so I thought. My comprehension of Macedonian is not all that fluent, though I can mostly infer and get by. A block away? "Nema" problem, as it was early in the morning, about 7 am and I love walking in the mornings. Armed with some knowledge of how to get to my friend's house I set off.  Since I was to meet her at the Painted Mosque, I walked towards a towering minaret in the near distance.  I walked confidently in that direction but soon started getting a queasy feeling that this mosque may not be the right one, because it was just the standard white and grey and the name ‘Painted Mosque’ must mean something a little more colorful than this! About 20 minutes later, more than a kilometer away and with phone contact with my friend, I finally arrived at ‘The Painted Mosque! What a beauty, as you can see it is picturesque!

So the next day, after the conference, I was determined that he pick me up at the ‘Jamjia Pasha’, as it is referred to locally. And making sure I used the local word for it so there would be no confusion!  Yet the combi didn’t show up and instead went to the stop from the day before! This driver had the audacity to call me up and ask me to take a cab there to meet him! After some confusing phone calls between this driver, my regular driver and I, this new driver called me back and told me in English “one minute” which I conveniently translated to "wait right there for one minute" and that he will come and pick me up. Fortunately, I had somehow inferred correctly and he did drive up and pick me up! Success!
One would think after such a stressful experience, albeit for 15 or so minutes, I would play it safe by opting for the bus station and buses with fixed schedules! No, not yet. It is such a pain to wait around for connecting buses at bleak, inhospitable bus stations that I am always willing to take those 15 minutes of stress with a combi. Is he on time? Will he remember to pick me up from a designated spot? Will he recognize me in the crowd of people waiting to stop and pick me up? Will I recognize his combi? Will he be another driver that I don’t recognize? The bottom line is that combi’s are really a very safe form of transportation and I think I would have no trouble with them if I was fluent in their language, which alas I am not. They are also full of friendly people from your community and who look out for each other. On the other hand, taxis – wild or licensed, are not my cup of tea!

Thus when returning from a conference from beautiful Ohrid covered with wild spring flowers this week, I realized that getting from the hotel back to my hometown by bus would mean, waiting at two bus stations for about 2 ½ hours, plus the 1 ½ hour journey for a total of 4 hours.  There also remained the possibility of missing the connecting bus at the second bus station and ending up with an expensive taxi ride or waiting another 2 hours.  Thus it made sense to use the military combi that made a daily trip taking soldiers to and from my town. The catch - be there on time (punctual is unusual for this country) and wait just outside the gates of the military barracks on the left curb (easy). It would take only an hour and a half to get home from that point and all "waiting" would be in our posh hotel, before heading out to the pickup point.  The funny thing was the taxi driver bringing us from the hotel didn’t know where the military barracks were or couldn’t believe we wanted to go there or most likely thought we were making a mistake about where we were to go. No one in their right mind would go from that hotel to the barracks - we certainly didn't look like soldiers. I finally called my friend to give directions to him and viola we were there in a minute. The barracks are walking distance from the bus station, but as it was raining and we had to be on time, we had to be dropped at the correct spot. This incident just reinforces my lack of confidence in taxi drivers.
I have learned combi driver’s are always willing to bring you home from whichever city you are in, if it happens to be on their route (slight detours acceptable). The trick is to find out which combi's are making those inter-city trips, what times they are scheduled and where their pickup and drop-off points are! They are so much faster and cheaper than the buses, because they serve the needs of their small communities -  towns and villages that are not near the two or three main highways in the country. I will use them as often as I can!

Networking

When I recently heard that the closest meaning in Macedonian to networking was a negative term, it bothered me enough to write about it, because I love to network and meet new people and don’t think networking should be considered negatively.

Combing through the thesauruses’ and dictionaries’ on the internet, I found that the word “nexus” is the root of “networking” – originally an information age word. The definition, “a connection or series of connections linking two or more things” originated in mid 17th century from Latin, ‘a binding together’, from nex-‘bound’, from the verb nectare. Thus networking can simply be considered as people helping people when connected together by a common interest, conference, goal, vacation trip, etc. They can do this through mentoring, sharing skills and resources, guiding and directing others and thus remain connected to others through a series of actions and exchanges of information.

Networking among people is a social skill. Job hunter’s are often advised to ‘network’ as a way of getting a job. This almost always results in frustration because networking is not a job finding tool or a way to access inside information, even though that may be the outcome of having a good network! A network of friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and peers is dynamic, opening exciting new opportunities all the time!

Of the hundreds of conferences that are scheduled every year in academia, industry, non-profit sector, government etc where papers or ideas are presented, the attendees not only get new information about the conference topics, but also spend unstructured time each other! Connections are constantly being made, deliberate, random or accidentally and often unaware where these connections will lead us!

Though esoteric and maybe a boring topic, just writing about networking has hopefully given you, my reader some insight into the true meaning of networking.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Kuli

Veligdon – Easter
There is a local tradition in town to “build towers” on Easter which is unique to this city. The following story is one version of the birth of this tradition.
During the Ottoman empire, the Turkish landlord or "Baig" of this large estate, now known as Makedonski Brod was so pleased with the work of his Macedonian peasants, that he granted them a day of freedom from work – coinciding with Veligdon. To this day, after the elaborate religious observances, the “Brodians” gather in the square and a group of sturdy men stand shoulder-to-shoulder forming a circle. Five men clamber on their shoulders and form a circle atop the first. Four such “towers” or “Kuli” were built this Monday.

To the sound of drums and the Balkan bagpipe, the towers slowly moved up the road to the next open space, where after disbanding were soon joined by the whole crowd in the traditional ora (dance). The energy is high and by this time all the residents, who had gone to their villages earlier in the day to celebrate easter service at their respective village church were also back. In addition, gauging from the fact that there was not a place to sit in any of the coffee shops in town, many people came from the all over Macedonia to witness this unique celebration.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Short Takes

Convinced that March had nothing more in store for me, I was ecstatic over the response in the community for the nationwide call for planting trees! Two buses and about 4 Kombi’s made two trips each from the front of the high school to a site approximately 14 kilometers away. The Shumski, department of forestry had prepared an area of about 5 acres on the hillside overlooking the Treska river to plant 1800 pine seedlings. We left the school at 9 am and were ready to plant by 9:30. Most people worked in groups of two, one digging and the other placing the seedling and tamping it firmly in the rocky clay. Within an hour and a half we were done! No one required the services of the ambulance and the accompanying physician on standby at the site during the whole period.


These are my colleagues at the municipality, accompanied by Suzana’s son Stephen in the light blue cap.  Sitting from left: Happie, Radmila, Lena, Milka, Goce and Drasko. Standing from left: Suzana, Biljana, Nadezda, Riste, Silvana, Jovanka, Vlejanka, Vanja, Zoran, Zlatko, Milena, Zore, Olivera, Zivko and Slave. Taking the picture was Slavica. Rada, Coba and Peco left before we assembled for the picture.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Cookie Diplomacy

That’s a real fancy word for a simple cooking demonstration at home on Friday, but clearly that’s what it turned out to be – a place for women to gather, learn a new skill and realize that no matter what, we are bound by an overarching common definition of rules. Call these rules women’s work; culture, tradition or customs and mores that together with their nurturing cushion of comfort tie our hands from time to time, language barrier notwithstanding!
On the very elementary level, we creamed some sugar and butter, added flavorings, flour and oatmeal and some nuts and raisins and produced a simple but tasty snack. Together with some fruit salad with in-season fruit – bananas, apples, oranges and kiwi, we created a space to talk with no strings attached. An hour of time away from the obligations to children, parents, spouses, and work devoted to friendship and laughter. The freedom of an impromptu event!

Thursday, March 25, 2010

First Spring in Macedonia

There is something magical about spring, the fresh green shoots, the birdsong heard every moment of the day, the farm animals taking care of their newly born and the house cats and dogs basking in the sun. Spring is getting up after the long slumber of winter, often covered with a blanket of snow. The snow has all but melted except from the distant peaks bringing a chill into the air, but not being able to ward off the warmth of the daytime sun.

My worksite has remained in the doldrums, as teaching English has yet to open pathways to something more exciting. There are however, many more moments when I am included in some of their daily activities and I can offer concrete ideas and suggestions. The community appears to be more responsive and my suggestion to the women’s organization LUNA resulted in action – sponsoring an essay writing competition among grades 1 to 4 with prizes. They are interested in continuing this activity and expanding it to the high school next year to research and write about Macedonian women leaders. This empowered me; bringing a lightness to my step, during my daily walk back and forth work. At the same time I was reminded how easy it is to forget that a wider circle of people in the community reveal their empowerment and leadership skills when conducting these types of activity at the grassroots level. These small steps may ultimately be the biggest sustainable change in the community.

With this success in hand I focused on the upcoming Earth Day, April 22 and it has led me to the high school after school clubs and generated interest in vermicompost bins at the school and the possibility of starting a community garden. In a town in which most families have their own vegetable gardens, the latter is more challenging and I have thought of focusing exclusively on a rose garden. Roses, I have learned through my research is featured in ancient Macedon artifacts and may be perfectly suited to this soil!

March 21 turned out to be one of the most exciting day of my life! I was invited to join the high school’s ecology club’s field trip to clear paths to some caves in a nearby Belitsca, a small village in the municipality of Brod. The Speleoloski Drustva “Peoni” organized this event and it took us a couple of hours of fairly steep incline to reach one of the caves, clearing the brush on the way. To my utter delight, when we arrived, our group leader, the president of Peoni was carrying the equipment needed to lower ourselves into the underground cave! It was unbelievable and I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity, even if it meant climbing down a narrow, approximately 1 ½” x 8” rungs of a metallic ladder. The nimble young lads made it look easy. I found myself swinging wildly and my shoe (I did have the wrong shoes) could not find the rung, let alone rest on it as it was all but one with the sheer face of the rock! The rope around my waist was what held me in place, and at times was most uncomfortable pulling me in the opposite direction of where I was headed! It is challenging for an inexperienced person like myself, but I loved the sensation of reaching my goal at the end of the struggle. The students teamed up to help me both times – when lowering myself down and when climbing back out. This was not a deep cave and only 7-8 feet was sheer rock without footholds! However, I needed all the help I could get, including one of the student’s hand halfway up.

Macedonia has a lot to offer for the outdoor enthusiast! Boating, hiking, fishing, hunting and spelunking thrown in the mix!

Friday, March 5, 2010

Reflections

I found the visit to the states a bit traumatic and was not able to settle down at all when I arrived at my US home. I returned to Macedonia full of misgivings - unable to balance the needs of my family with my personal needs and the needs of my new 'family' in Brod. Though I enjoyed the peace and quiet of my room in Brod the first night, I found it daunting to venture out for my walk in the morning. All I wanted was the safety and comfort of my four walls – did not want to face up to the task of speaking in a language I barely knew. Misunderstandings arise from cultural differences and nuances and I do not want to be judged as uncaring or selfish and that I left my husband before he was fully recovered from his bout of serious, life threatening illness.

So Wednesday morning the honeymoon period was officially over. I dawdled all morning, picking through my clothes before gingerly stepping out in the fresh air. The fog had not completely lifted and formed a soft veil around the mountains, softening the harshness of a clear cloudless cold wintry morning. The gas station digital sign told me was 2 degrees centigrade at 7:03 am. Just stepping out helped clear some of the fog in my mind. After walking just a block, I saw a car drive past by me and in that split second I recognized the Mayor of the town driving by, just as he recognized me. He stopped, rolled down the window and we greeted each other and he moved on. Immediately my pace became brisk and more confident. It was not going to be so hard after all- the people in this community knew me and knew why I had left so abruptly and they were not going to embarrass me with questions! I went on to say hello to the employees outside the municipal services and a few other residents when I met the silly dog, Glupcho! His exuberance and squealing in delight while jumping up and down always embarrassed me in the past, but was such a welcome sound this morning and soon I felt I was back in my ‘normal’ routine. There was a distinct increased lightness in my step and I was reminded that the only way to conquer my latent fears is to look them in the face. I fell into my earlier routine of stopping at the store and one of the many fruit stands to replenish my pantry. It was then I decided to write about the similarities and differences in the two cultures that I was straddling!

The pace of life is slower here for me, as I had left all my obligations behind before I embarked on this journey. Unlike me, my colleagues have obligations that they are trying to juggle between work and home. However, there seems to be more flexibility built into the workday and there is an acceptance that many times familial obligations may have a greater priority.

The work day usually starts over a cup of coffee, often Turkish style. Many of my colleagues call it their breakfast! It is a time for making small talk, before the start of the day. In my case the talk is very simple and to my utter consternation I was having difficulty with many of the simple phrases I had mastered earlier - I recognize the words but not the meaning! However, today I found out a colleague had purchased a car in Germany and was making a 5-day trip to go and fetch it! Another colleague had purchased a new laptop and yet a few others received their official uniforms last week and were still getting used to the bright orange color that made them visible from far away! Talking over coffee is like having an impromptu meeting in which everyone in the office is a part of. Today, I learned that a couple of colleagues were going to an adjacent village to survey and draw up a proposal to remodel the facility! I was not only able to join them, leaving immediately, but I learned about this "new project" at the opstina!

Rent is paid in cash, no saving receipts for tax purposes. I pay for three months at a time and have started using the ATM to withdraw money because the lines at the bank are long and the process slow. ATM’s as we all know, have withdrawal limits, which means I have to make multiple trips. I also miss the ease and convenience with which you can purchase groceries and personal products for daily items. It took me 2 months to find whole-wheat flour in a store in Skopje! During my short stay in the US, I was able to cook both simple and gourmet meals, because the ingredients were readily at my local grocery store. Peanut butter is not a common item in Macedonia – they like their peanuts raw or roasted and not made into a spread, so I brought a couple of jars back with me!

The farm produce here is like having farmer's market all year round. Though bananas come all the way from Ecuador, most vegetables and fruits travel only a few hours to get from the farms to the fruit stand. This morning I purchased tomatoes and cucumbers arriving from south-eastern farms in Strumica,! Walnuts, chestnuts and hazelnuts are locally grown in backyards and in the late fall and early winter months, hot roasted chestnuts are served as a snack! Walnuts are used extensively in their desserts of which baklava is famous not only in Macedonia but also in Greece and Turkey. It appears as one of the dessert items at every celebratory meal. What I couldn’t find was pine nuts to make a nice caprese salad!

Visiting friends is less formal. Many people turn on the porch lights to signify they are at home and friends feel welcome to walk up and knock at the door. Though tired, my friend called out to me at 9:30 pm when she saw me strolling down the street and I didn't feel uncomfortable walking in to her house. Back home we live scattered from each other and dropping in like this becomes impossible!

Thursday, March 4, 2010


I look back to the idyllic couple of days spent with my daughter in the first week of February. Introducing her to the best of Macedonian cooking – shopska salad, selecting fresh meat from a platter and by far her favorite, mountain tea, which is surprisingly available only as the fresh plant and not yet packaged by some intrepid entrepreneur. Watching her look of surprise when drinking rakia, the high alcoholic content drink,
followed by pivo (beer) and then some wine during the fancy meal! Traveling to the aforementioned town of Ohrid, first in a Yugo (remember the Yugo?) through a heavy snowstorm and then by public transport – an intercity bus. The driver driving dangerously fast on the slippery mountain roads! We stayed at an elegant waterfront rooming house with a private bedroom and ensuite bathroom facing the lake in the old town area. We were able to walk to and from the landmarks and stroll through the empty post-season streets of the market. The joy of watching a DVD movies together at night and even the pleasure of introducing her to my new ‘opstina’ family at work or just deciding simultaneously to forgo wandering around the city of Bitola in pouring rain.

Back home in the States, all was not all well and I had to fly home suddenly on the 10th when my husband landed in the hospital with meningitis and needed surgery to clear the problem disks in the neck region of the spine! He is well on his way to recovery – but it took me away from site for the remainder of the month!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

January Wrap-up

Editor's note: Though I wrote this piece back on February 1st, events caught me off-guard and delayed the posting till today. After much debate with myself, I decided that I will go ahead and post this and quickly follow-up with last month's news.

In the last week of January things have started coming together at my workplace. I am comfortable in my adjunct role as a teacher of conversational English, which in turn has created an atmosphere of learning and sharing. I have started understanding many of the functions of the workplace and find everyone more forthcoming about what they are doing as they realize my understanding of their explanations in Macedonian and English was getting better. Soon we will be able to exchange complex ideas along PDM lines. This is an exciting time of discovery for me as I begin to see possibilities.
I am also involved with Camp Glow, a brainchild of a Peace Corps volunteer in another country a few years ago. It is a girl’s leadership camp and its design has been adopted successfully across the globe. In Macedonia it is in it’s 5th year, bringing approximately 80 girls in the 14-18 year age bracket from all areas and ethnicities in Macedonia for a week in the summer. Many of the participants have returned time and time again as junior and senior counselors, putting into practice the skills they learned!
What an invigorating and exciting time, rejuvenating me with the possibilities and reinforcing the choice I made to become a volunteer. Things are going well at the home front too– and I am more relaxed and have fewer daily obligations compared to those back home. My only challenge seemed to be able to create new dishes from the available ingredients and at times I miss ingredients such as whole-wheat flour to make Indian roti, paratha and poori etc. However, I do manage to create tastes of home, like the sandwiches I wrote about in my last posting.
To top all this, I am going to have another family member visit me. One daughter is coming for a few days, arriving in three days on February 4. Although not ideal weather - a bit cold but nonetheless we plan to spend the weekend in the city of Ohrid, listed in the New York Times travel guide as one of the 30 places to visit in 2010.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Last weekend in January

I think I speak for all the people who travel overseas for long term assignments, when I say that there comes a time when the novelty and excitement of new foods fades and all you want is the familiar tastes, even if it is just fast food, like McDonald's with little nutritional value.

Anyway, I woke up this morning thinking about food, nothing exotic, but just to be able to walk into my kitchen back home, filled with nuts, fresh fruits and vegetables and other favorites and make myself breakfast. I am not sure this feeling was triggered by the McDonald’s hamburger and fries I ate yesterday afternoon in Skopje or a walk through the aisles of the adjacent grocery store looking for something as basic to me as whole-wheat flour! I finally found it in the organic cereal section in a small 500g packet.
I made myself oatmeal and raisins for breakfast – not using Quaker oats, but a German brand. For lunch I had a delicious tomato-cucumber-lettuce sandwich using whole grain bread. Doesn’t it look absolutely delicious? It was. I finished my meal with a cup of Indian tea. Dinner was a homemade piece of poppyseed cake and muesli with milk.
With whole-wheat flour in my pantry I was ready to make Indian style food on Sunday, starting with chicken curry and with full intentions to make paratha or roti to go with it. While I was preparing the curry late - about 11 am, I was interrupted with an invitation to visit some new people in my town and I immediately took up the offer. 5 hours later, I served the delicious chicken curry with ‘integral’ or whole wheat bread instead and a tossed tomato and cucumber and lettuce salad to my Macedonian language tutors. I had to skip making the roti's because I just didn't have the time. Here is the accompanying salad.

On Monday, I am still talking about food. After my afternoon English lessons about food, I expressed a strong desire to eat beefsteak. Guess what, a coworker who was in the city of Prilep for an errand, volunteered to stop and purchase steaks for me! I am in food heaven. Ce la vie!

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Sometimes, no not sometimes, always it has been little stuff that brightens the day. Today it was the snowfall. When I woke up and saw a light blanket of snow clinging to every horizontal surface, from the narrow metal balustrade, to the spidery thin branches of the trees on the side of the mountain, I felt great. There was a quickness in my movements as I got dressed to go out for my morning walk. The stray snowflakes drifting down enveloping me with a softness associated with snow, making my heart sing. Only yesterday, I felt how will I last 2 years in my chosen self-imposed exile/adventure!
Today, my thoughts are about the stillness of the morning and the assets of my adopted city dressed in their finest. How familiar I have become with this place; the streets, the stray dogs, the people, the many fruit stands and their owner's, the couple of bakeries I frequent and the super market cashier's! This is my home for two years and I feel a pull-push relationship with it.
I love the fantastic views of the mountains sheltering this valley! I walk through the small pine forest on the small hill (mountain?) south of the town, less than 5 minutes walk from my house. It's dark green color set against the brown of the local oak and other trees is now a familiar place, as familiar as the wooded paths, the beach and the streets of LF. Today's snow cloaks the dark green and brown with a white coat, while the spring and summer wildflowers and other small animals that take shelter here have yet to reveal themselves to me. I remember how delighted my friend and I were when we spotted a deer, a fox or a coyote in the forested streets of LF-LB. Those thoughts remind me that I am in no hurry to go home, at least not yet, not till my work here is finished and I have experienced all the seasons.
Yesterday I learned about about a village close by which has fields of mountain tea on one side of the valley and berry bushes on the other side. Now I have something else to look forward to - accompanying my new friends to their village during those months and hiking up to those fields. So today it no longer feels like exile, but an adventure that is just starting

Friday, January 15, 2010

Stara Nova Godina

On the Eve of Stara Nova Godina
Don’t know where to begin – but I tell you Macedonians know how to party!
Vevcani, (pronounced Vevchani) a little village close to famous Lake Ohrid at the foothills of a mountain range and at start of some spectacular hiking trails hosts a carnival to coincide with the eve of the orthodox New Year, known as Stara Nova Godina. It is also the home to one of the many clear water springs in the country, which starts from a grotto like cave and is a real picturesque site, together with the winding up and down streets of the village that is litter free, with well-maintained homes and public buildings.
This festival has become a national tourist hotspot for this time of the year and known to be second only to the 1400-year-old carnival that takes place each year in February (this year on the 16th) in the southeastern city of Strumica.
To my great delight, as my friend and I were searching for restroom facilities, we stopped by the local municipal building, only to find a lavish spread laid out for lunch for the visitors on the terrace overlooking the street below before the start of the parade. A bonus!
After refreshments we walked about to the spectacular springs and made our way down to the main carnival parade route mingling with carnival participants, as they were getting ready for the parade. Finally the carnival parade started around 2 pm. Parades are fun and this carnival was even more fun, as there were no strict police pushing one behind ropes along the sidewalk. People were calm, even though inebriated and quite content to move back and forth to let the carnival parade participants interact with the bystanders to ‘sell fictitious wares’ and to allow people to step into the parade with them for unique photo-ops. It was a great advantage to be among volunteers who have attended this festival before, as I learned that I could move in and out of the ‘entries’ taking some memorable pictures. The TV’s channel’s covering the event censored a couple of “entries” which would be considered ‘x-rated’ and forbidden from a family carnival as this one was back home. Even though I took plenty of pictures, I too censored them from my album postings on picasa and facebook.
As this day was the eve of ‘Vasilitsca’, a religious new year, the church back home in my city always has a big bon-fire and pro-slava (celebration). A big bonfire and a meal is laid out for all citizens in the lawn at night. Though we got home by 8 pm, we found that the church celebration over, but numerous private homes and some neighborhoods had their own bonfires celebrating past midnight to welcome the ‘new year’! My friend and I walked about till it was time for bed.

On the day of Stara Nova Godina, one department at the municipality has a celebration similar to the work Christmas parties back home, commencing after a half-day’s work. Thus lunch was a long drawn out affair in one of the offices, big for 4 – 5 people but quite a tight space with 10-15 individuals, with catered food and drinks, including alcoholic beverages. It is a tradition at this gathering to serve burek, with two of the pieces each embedded with a coin. The two individuals who discover it in their meal are chosen to be godparents for the next year’s celebrations and are responsible for the catering. The computer speakers were used to provide traditional music from you-tube video sites and as soon as the traditional ‘ora’ music started, a few peers started the ora. It was pretty crammed in the office space, but I participated fully in these celebrations enjoying every minute of it and more than likely have made many more friends among my peers and colleagues! It was hard to get back to work after the lunch, so I concentrated on transferring photo’s from my camera to computer to web albums! Поминав супер! Тоа е се!