COS REFLECTIONS

Today at work, I didn’t have overly much to do.  Now, I did in fact do some work-related things, filling out paperwork for the Peace Corps with my counterpart, and discussing possibly trying to get some recycling happening here in Strumica.

But other than that, not so much.

So I did what any other person with some extra time would do – I read the entire Health of the Volunteer 2014 statistical report from Peace Corps.

It was somewhat enlightening.  I discovered the following.

So far in these three months here in Macedonia, I may have contributed to these tracked categories:

Environmental Health Concerns, Gastrointestinal Conditions (bacterial diarrhea), Gastrointestinal Conditions (viral diarrhea), Injuries (unintentional, other), and Febrile Illness (other).

For comparison’s sake, here’s what I’ve learned I probably contributed to in Ghana:

Cardiovascular Problems, Dental Problems, Dermatitis (infectious), Febrile Illness (other), Gastrointestinal Conditions (amebiasis), Gastrointestinal Conditions (giardiasis), Gastrointestinal Conditions (bacterial diarrhea), Gastrointestinal Conditions (viral diarrhea), Gastrointestinal Conditions (other), Injuries (pedestrian), Injuries (unintentional, other), Malaria Chemoprophylaxis (mefloquine), Malaria Chemoprophylaxis (doxycycline), Malaria (falciparum, on mefloquine), and Malaria (presumptive, on doxycycline).

There’s at least two more to add to that Ghana list, as I can’t quite figure out where the worm I coughed up or the mefloquine-induced hearing loss fits in.  Overall, though, I’ve got to say, I much prefer the list here.

Knock on wood that it stays that way!

So, back to the story.

The next day after my no credit fiasco with at the bus station was Friday.  This was a pretty significant Friday, actually: the next day was my birthday.  It was also the day I was heading BACK to Skopje (yes, I got back Thursday night, then went right back Friday), though this time for an entire weekend.  I have to admit, I was looking forward to staying at the hotel again – when I got back to my house here in Strumica, there still wasn’t heat.  There’s excellent heat in the hotel!

Anyway, after work myself and Grace, the ‘current’ PCV here, hopped on the bus and rode the few hours up to the capital.  When we got there, Grace took off with one of her non-PCV friends, and I waited a bit for Katie to show up.

We walked around a bit, then did what any sane PCV would do when in the capital city of their country – we got Chinese food.  For me, this was literally the third day in a row; but I’m ok with that.

The next day was the party for our current country director’s going away.  It was being held at her house, and a whole bunch of volunteers were attending from a variety of groups.  Before the party a bunch of us MAK20s met up and wandered around a bit, then (more or less) successfully found our way to the house.

As an introvert, I will honestly say it was a bit overwhelming how many people were shoved into that place – but it was fun.  There were some great snacks (like fresh baked brownies and brownie-cookies with M&Ms and chocolate pieces); there was also something even better: I have to give a shout out to Miranda here, she baked me some peppermint cookies for my birthday.  They were amazing; really amazing.  I even had some for breakfast the next day!

Lunch (Macedonian lunch – it was like 4pm) was also something amazing – Dominos.  Yes, Dominos; the pizza place.  There is an actual Dominos in Skopje, and seeing those boxes come in the door was somewhat surreal…in Peace Corps ordering Dominos.  Craziness.

After some speeches and tears, and an impromptu singing of happy birthday to me, everyone filtered out for their evening activities.  I went along with a few other PCVs, both MAK19s and 20s, to a rakija bar.  Rakija, for those who don’t remember, is the local akapetshie; for those who don’t remember what akapetshie is, it’s basically homemade liquor.  It was fun, and the weekend was pretty good.

On Sunday, I walked around a bit with Kyle and Laura, then caught the bus back to Strumica.  When I got back, something amazing had happened.

There was heat!

I literally smiled and cheered.

Of course, there’s no heat in the bathroom, but that’s all good.  I can handle that.  I mean, that’s what empty bottles are for, right?

Ok, just kidding on that one.

Sort of.

The rest of that week was pretty normal.  I met up with both Cameron and Priscilla in town, on different days, but other than that, just work.

As for work, there are some few projects I am starting to finally work on and research, but every single one of them is something outside of my experience.  The pace and organization of how work is done here is very different from what I am used to, and I would have to say that that is more of a challenge for me than being here in a new work environment in and of itself.  It’s hard to explain – things are a lot more laid back in some ways, but also much more hectic in others.  What is being worked on literally changes day to day, if not even hour to hour, and often we’ll be told the plan for the week, then the next day everything is different, and what was discussed in the plan is not even touched on.

It’s a bit confusing.

But, as I said, I’m getting used to it.

On Friday of last week, Katie, Leah, and Meghan came in to town, and I had the chance to catch up with them and Priscilla.  We went to a place called Bonita for dinner, and it was ok.  Not the best I’ve had, but it had a decent atmosphere, and it was good enough.

Saturday I met up with the girls again, went to a café and then ended up heading over to Grace’s place.  She had just CoSed the day before, and is back in Strumica for a few days before heading back to the States.  I have to say, it made me think about two things: 1) how far we have to go until our CoS, and 2) what it was like to CoS from Ghana.

CoSing sort of surprised me the first time.  I remember sitting in the airport with Andi and Anna, the feeling so surreal.  On one hand, it was exciting that we were finally going home – I hadn’t seen the US, or even left Ghana, in over two years at that point.  We were going to travel through Europe, and take a cruise across the Atlantic.  In many ways we had been counting down to this point since we got to Ghana: this many months till swear-in, this many months until IST, this many until mid-service medical, this many until CoS conference, then so many more until we could, finally, CoS.

And there we were, having done just that, no longer PCVs, but RPCVs, waiting for our flight out of what was both the most intense experience of my life, and literally my life for the past two years.  That’s where the other side of it came in – what was I going to find when I got back?  Would I find a job?  Would I be stuck living with my parents for a long time?  Would I be able to reconnect with not just the people I left behind, but the LIFESTYLE I left behind??  While my US-based life was put on hold for two years, everyone else back there was still moving forward.

In my experience, the adjustment back to life in the US was much harder than the adjustment to Ghana.  It’s hard to explain, but things were just so fast, so overwhelming.  There’s also the thought of, “I’m American, it’ll be fine going back; its home,” that made each struggle a little bit more pronounced.  When I sat there talking to Grace about going home I had to wonder if that’ll be the case this time.

Macedonia is such a different reality than Africa was, there’s more in common with the US than there was my first time through; yet, at the same time, so many things are different.  Will that commonality make readjustment easier, or will the surface-level similarities make the differences when I get back so much more apparent?

I’ve probably got a long time before I find out, so who knows.

But it’s something that I’m definitely curious about.

НЕМА КРЕДИТ

This past week has somehow been the exact definition of my Macedonian Peace Corps experience so far. I had those moments where I didn’t feel at ALL like I was in the Peace Corps, and those moments where I absolutely did.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s really an interesting dichotomy here between a first world experience, and a 2^nd world life. On the surface level it’s so much like the United States in so many ways, especially in the capital, yet on other levels there are things that would never be experienced back home. Ironically, and I believe I’ve mentioned this as well, it makes the experience somewhat more of a challenge in a way I never expected.

In Ghana, you never actually felt like you were in the US. Sure, there were moments where you had a more familiar experience – especially in Accra or at certain hotels – but you never could escape the fact that you were in West Africa.   The people, the landscape, the culture, the dress, EVERYTHING; and though it was familiar after two years, it was too different.

Here, you often feel like you are in the US. The way people dress, many aspects of city life, the restaurants, the TV; all of it lends itself to a strange pseudo-American experience. But then you look deeper; the motivations, the cultural meanings, the approach – all are not quite the same as they seem, and very different than what we are used to.

To use my favorite term – it causes a type of cognitive dissonance that didn’t exist in my previous experience, and despite coming into this country fully aware that it will be different, was something I did not consciously expect.

It’s sort of messing with my mind…

This week was a perfect example of why.

Tuesday this week was a holiday. The government here seems to declare holidays all the time – some are religious-based, others are not. For example, last week they had a holiday to celebrate and plant trees. Not at all religious based, and as a result, government offices are still closed, but they make up for the missed day on the following Saturday. Not really a holiday if you ask me – just a moving around of the work week.

Anyway, Tuesday’s holiday was religious based. I’m not really sure how, but it was. Since work was closed (nothing like having a day off on your second day of work!), and I had just moved into my new place and still needed a bunch of stuff, I decided to hop the bus on up to Stip. I’ve mentioned Stip before, but just as a reminder (since, obviously, you’ve all read the previous updates, right??) is a decent sized city where those of us doing PST in Sveti Nikole would go for joint sessions with the trainees there. Its only about 25-30 minutes from Sveti, and happily, only about 55 minutes, including a stop, from Strumica.

There are three volunteers from the MAK20s posted there, one of whom is Jennica, who was also with me in Sveti, and a nice side benefit of heading to Stip to shop, was getting to see them. In the morning, my host father drove me to the bus station, and saw me off on the bus. The ride is just under an hour in length, and includes a quick stop in another town. The scenery along the way, as is true in most of this country, is beautiful. Mountains on every side, grape fields, farms, and houses dot the landscape; I saw sheep, goats, dogs, eagles, and a few of these really neat looking birds that are black and have white stripe across their wings and in their tails.

When you come into Stip, for a short few minutes you ride along a river, at the bottom of a hill, and in the river are fishermen, dogs, and the occasional horse. Built up into the rocky hillside are houses, and on the other side of the road you pass a really amazing church.

Stip itself is a pretty big city by Macedonian standards, and houses anywhere from 40,000 to 55,000 people, depending on who you ask. It’s also a university town, with lots of what are called faculties here. There’s lots of shopping, a shoe factory, and many, many cafes and restaurants, including an Irish Pub.

The store I was looking for was called Elkoes, and had one very important thing I needed – a beard trimmer. Granted, there are beard trimmers you can buy in Strumica, but the ones from Elkoes work well, and, more importantly on a Peace Corps ‘salary’, are less than ½ the price. Even paying for the bus the total cost of the ticket plus the trimmer was cheaper than just buying a decent one here.

When I got to Stip, I met up with Emi near the bus station, then we walked over to one of the restaurants there where we met up with Dana and Jennica. After a quick lunch, we made our way on foot over to Elkoes. One thing about Stip that is different than other places I have ‘lived’ in here in Macedonia – while a city, it is not what I like to call a ‘center-based’ city.

In Sveti Nikole, and in Strumica, there is a central square referred to as Center, where everyone congregates. There are cafes, a park, and shops. It’s where you go when you go somewhere.

In Stip, everything is spread out. They still have an area they call Center, but to me, it’s more in the sense of us in the US saying we are going ‘downtown’, and not actually referring to a central square. That being said, it took us a good 30-40 minutes to walk from the ‘center’ over to the store. Unlike Strumica, Stip is HILLY! It’s some pretty good exercise any time you walk around.

Anyway, I got what I needed (and then some), and after some more quick hanging out, made my way back to the bus station for the trip back to Strumica. Thanks to the whole winter thing and all, it gets dark here around 4 or 430pm; by 445 its pitch black out. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue for me, but it definitely contributed to my first little panicky moment here at site (ok, I didn’t ACTUALLY panic, but I could have…).

One thing that I should clarify about life here is how cell phones work. While you CAN get post-paid plans for your phone like we usually use in the States, here, Peace Corps recommends and sets up for us pre-paid plans. You purchase a certain number of credits, and everything you do costs so much – a phone call is so many denari per minute, a text so many, and using a megabyte of data so much more. Now, usually, I make sure that my settings have cellular data off, as that is a surefire way to drain credits REALLY quickly.

I thought I had turned it off this day.

I hadn’t.

Previous times when I had come to the Strumica bus station (all two!), there were plenty of taxis waiting. Plenty of taxis.

This time, none.

Not a single one.

Ok, maybe one, but the first person off the bus quickly grabbed that one.

After that, there really were none.

Not a single one.

Another thing of which there was none – credits on my phone.

Not a single one.

I tried calling the taxi.

The recording yelled at me.

In Macedonian.

But one thing I clearly understood – “Нема Кредит.” No credit.

So, while it wasn’t late, it was pitch black outside. Nowadays it gets completely dark out by 430. Kind of crazy. And, while I’ve driven the route from the bus station to my house many a time (twice!!), I’ve never really paid too much attention. I mean, I know how to get to Center, and isn’t that what’s important???

I was stuck. No idea how to go, too dark to recognize anything, with no credit on my phone, and no one nearby to call a taxi for me. Somehow a Peace Corps moment.

Finally, luckily, someone walked into the station, and a taxi pulled in to pick him up. Most of the taxis here are called and dispatched – you can catch them randomly at places sometimes, but usually, you call. So I know the only reason that taxi showed up was because that one person happened to call it.

I literally ran over to the taxi, asked him in my VERY broken Macedonian if he could call another one, and skipped happily away when he did so.

Mission accomplished.

Later that evening, I met Priscilla in center and, needless to say, one of the first things we did was walk around trying to find some place to get credit.

That mission too, was successful.

Priscilla and I walked around center a bit, she going all giddy over the lights and tree they have up in center with what I have been told are called icicle lights (many pictures were taken). It was actually fun to watch – at one point she even climbed up on a bench to get better pictures!

After a quick drink at a place called Que Pasa, we piled into our separate taxis, and my first holiday as a true PCV came to an end.

A cold end – as my house doesn’t have any heat of any type, but an end. One comment I will make – I’ve always said how I like things to be cold, so I can cuddle up under the blankets in bed and warm up.

I’ve now learned there are limits to that statement.

See the kinds of things Peace Corps teaches you??

The next day was back to work. I got up a little early to pack, as I was heading to Skopje after the work day, and set out on my walk to the office. I have to give my host father credit here – every morning he passes me walking in his car; he too works for the Општина (ohp-shteena, Municipality), and every morning he stops just to make sure I really want to walk.

It’s cold out, he tells me, and tries to get me to get in the warm car. He spends at least two minutes motioning me in, and just sort of shakes his head in defeat when I won’t. My walk is my exercise, and I actually enjoy it.

Work was, well, work. I’m still feeling it out, and I think they’re doing the same. It’ll be somewhat of a balancing act, but that’s not a bad thing. All life is about compromise; this experience is no exception.

After work, I made my way up to the bus station to grab my ride to Skopje. I managed to catch the direct bus, which is only 2 hours rather than 3 ½, and got there pretty quick. After checking into the hotel, I had myself a nice evening, a very nostalgic one, actually, of Chinese take-out and a movie on my computer in my hotel room. Back in the States I spent literally months out of every year doing that same thing – Chinese take-out with a movie on my computer in a hotel room. Granted, the capital city of an Eastern European country is very different than a small hotel on the Mexican border, but, it was nostalgic none-the-less.

The next day we had training with the Peace Corps. It was actually pretty fun and another chance to meet some more of the MAK19 group that I hadn’t really associated with yet. Again, I ate Chinese.

After the meeting, I hopped back on the bus, but this time, instead of going right back to Strumica, I made a stop in Stip.

I’ve mentioned Stip many times, so I’m not going to redescribe it, but this time I went for something more ‘work’ related – the American Corner. One of the main activities that Peace Corps volunteers do are secondary projects. Every one of us has a primary worksite that we are assigned to, be it a non-governmental organization, a school, or as in my case, a municipality.

But that’s only part of the story. In addition to that all of us are encouraged (though, to be fair, not required) to participate in secondary activities. Many of the activities support the second goal of Peace Corps – to help host country nationals learn about the US and US culture. One of the primary means of doing this in Macedonia is the American Corner.

Sponsored by the US Embassy, the American Corner provides a lot of services that help local people to understand and experience some of what makes the US the US. They have a lending library with books, movies, CDs, games, and pretty much anything else you can think of that kids or adults in the US might be interested in. They also host seminars and cultural programs, and it was to one of these that I was going.

One of the MAK19s, Abby, had been asked to talk with a group of 8-12 year olds about what education and school is like in the US, and she invited a couple of us to help out. I can honestly say I didn’t know what to expect. In Ghana, when you dealt with kids, “Obruni, how are you, I am fine, thank you” was usually the limit of the English, even though they theoretically took English class every day during school. I was worried it was going to be the same here.

Boy was I wrong.

At 6pm, Abby brought myself, Emi, Jennica, and Dana over to the American Corner and introduced us to the staff there. I’ve got to say, I’ve heard a lot of great things about the staff from not only Peace Corps, but from the volunteer I’m replacing, and it was all true. They spoke better English than we did, and were amazingly nice people.

Only one or two kids were there at this point, but over the next twenty minutes or so they slowly filtered in; by the end of the talk there were probably a good twenty or twenty five there.

And they all spoke really good English. Some of them were a bit shy about using it, but they were amazing. Not only did they use the ‘proper’ words, but there was a lot of English slang thrown in as well. It was really impressive.

We talked for a little over an hour, and it was great. A little slow start just due to shyness I think, but by the end, it was talking over talking. It was really fun, and I’m glad I went. I definitely plan on going again.

While these may not be as funny as they were at the time, two of my favorite moments came from the kids.

There was one boy who brought up the Legend of Bloody Mary. He lamented the fact that he’s tried it many times, and it’s never worked. Then, a girl who was sitting near me stated, in a very matter of fact tone, that it was stupid, and fake, and not real, and she doesn’t believe in it at all.

The girl sitting next to her, obvious anxiety in her voice, piped in with the fact that she NEVER likes looking in the mirror, she’s too afraid because of Bloody Mary. The two went back and forth for a minute or so, then at once, fingers pointing back and forth between them, the state, “We’re BFFs.”

Completely unexpected, and very funny!

Then, another boy asked me if I liked to play games; I said yes. He asked if I played GTA5 (Grand Theft Auto 5). I said no. The look of disappointment on his face was intense. He then put his arms in the air and shouted, pure despair in his voice, “Doesn’t anyone play GTA5? Anyone???”

Very funny.

After the session, we all went out for a quick drink with one of the staff from the American Corner. I wasn’t rushing – after all, there are buses every hour from Stip down to Strumica, all the way up until 10pm at night.

Right?

Sort of.

The illusion is shattered once again, and the fact that I’m in the Peace Corps reared its head again.

According to the published schedule, and according to the staff at the bus station, there is a bus to Strumica at 9:05pm. So, being the responsible person I am, I managed to get to the station around 8:45pm, a good 20 minutes early.

I did not get on the bus.

It left 35 minutes early. It got into Stip from Skopje really early, didn’t want to wait, and just left. I was stuck at the bus station until 10:15, when the next bus showed up. For a while, I was the only one there.

Which wasn’t too horrible, as they had Animal Planet (in English) showing on the TV, and I got there just in time to grab a snack and drink from the small store there.

By the time I got home it was midnight, and I was exhausted.

The next morning, I got up early to head to work, but I’ll get into that in another update.

After all, this one is way too long already.

AND SO IT BEGINS…

Yesterday was my first full day at my new site, in my new house, and with my new homestay family. To say it was surreal, and a bit awkward, would be something of an understatement. I had become used to the life I had in Sveti, and the change between what life was like there – both daily life and the family – and what it is like here, is a big one.

On the flip side, to say that my first full day in my new city was a good one, would also be an understatement. I actually had a pretty darn good day.

Except for the 2^nd degree burns.

But I’ll save that story for later.

My first night here, I decided to sleep on the couch. When you arrange the couch pieces just so, it effectively works as a pretty comfortable king size bed. Much better than the two small, seemingly kid-sized beds in the actual bedroom. I had originally thought I would just push those together, but the frames they are on will leave a big gap between the two. Not a good thing when you are as likely to fall between the two as I am.

So, I decided to basically treat the apartment as an efficiency, one that just happens to have an extra room with two small beds, and a wardrobe for my clothes. This actually will probably work out well, as I can have guests over and they have a place to stay. Really, they’ll have their own room.

There are a few things that are missing – namely a fridge, a stove, and any way to heat the place, but that should all be in place by the end of this week. I think we are going to grab some things later today. I’m not overly stressed about it, but it’ll be nice to have.

Anyway.

I managed to successfully sleep (or at least stay in bed) until almost 10am, a pretty darn good accomplishment here if I say so myself. I probably could have stayed in bed longer, but my host father came knocking on my door saying that breakfast was ready.

After getting dressed, I walked downstairs and walked into the host family’s ‘apartment’. It was very warm in there – after what I’ve been used to in Sveti, it was downright blastingly hot. Within minutes I was sweating. Unlike places I had been previously in this country, this family actually uses inverters, and not wood stoves.

Not only was it hot in there, but my host father was actively watching the Discovery Wild channel. He loves that channel, and I’ve been told he watches it whenever he’s home. It is in English, with no subtitles, but he’s fascinated by the animals and shows. The language barrier doesn’t really matter – it’s the show’s contents that he loves.

So, I sat down to eat, and was joined by my host father, my host mother, his mother (the all important baba), and a heaping plate of ѓеврек (gyev-rek), which is basically a round, fried dough. The one I was served was similar to the one I’ve been given in Sveti, but some of the volunteers (then trainees, oh, so long ago…) told me that what they’ve called ѓеврек is a little bit different in appearance, but basically the same. It was eaten with cheese on top and a whole heaping of sugar. Which is NOT the way I’m used to.

It was also a bit funny (or maybe, ironic??) as my host family are pretty much health nuts. They don’t drink alcohol, don’t eat sweets, and stay away from soda. They also run a mountain every weekend.

Really.

But, I’ll get into that later.

Anyway, they are health nuts, yet here they are eating mass amounts of fried bread, liberally bathed in pure sugar. To me, call me crazy, but that qualifies as a ‘sweet’.

After our ‘healthy’ breakfast, we headed out on the town. Right to a на гости (basically, a visit) at my host mother’s parent’s house. The house itself was in what I’ve been told is the ‘old town’ part of the city, and is actually really nice. It does have that old European feel to it, and is two stories. In some ways it’s like a compound in and of itself. When you first walk in from ground level, there’s a small ‘tunnel’ leading to an open yard in the back. Lining the tunnel on one side are boxes and boxes of eggs and egg cartons. It seems that her parents are egg distributors, and they use their house to conduct business. There were A LOT of eggs. On the other side, logs for the wood-burning stove. Lots and lots of logs; they need to last through the whole winter.

In the yard, a small shed, a couple fruit trees, and a cat. A really cute cat.

The stairs here led up to the apartment where they actually live; when you go in the door it’s like entering a mini-museum. They have all kinds of pieces of art, mostly painted wood, with a few rugs and carpet-like things thrown in. It was really cool. The room itself is not used, solely as a hallway into their ‘main’ apartment, and as a showpiece.

Once you get past the exhibits, and enter the kitchen, the rest of the apartment branches off, and its basically a normal apartment. It really reminded me of being in my grandparent’s apartments, with the TV near the kitchen table that they didn’t really know how to use.

Both of her parents were really nice, and VERY welcoming. They told me to call them Баба and Дедо (baba and dedo, basically, grandma and grandpa), and were in incredible shape for their age. They seem to be in their sixties, maybe seventy, but they told me there were 80. The дедо was a basketball coach as his career, and traveled all over for it. He has one grandson who lives in Virginia (small world!), and a granddaughter who lives here (but, obviously, would like to go to the US!).

They gave me tea, and we chatted for a while, before taking our leave and heading up the mountain. Yep, the mountain. Normally, my host father and mother walk and run up to the ruins and church in the mountains overlooking the city, but this time, for me, they were going to drive. Also factored in was the fact that we were supposed to be back in a couple hours for ручек (roo-check), aka, lunch.

The drive up the mountain was incredible. Very steep, and in some cases, very scary. At times, the car was literally at the edge; to fall over was to really and truly FALL. But as we went up we passed donkeys, a fox, horses, sheep, goats, and cows. Huge birds were circling overhead, mainly crows and eagles.

As an interesting aside, the eagles here are called Eastern Imperial Eagles, and while their population is diminishing, from what I was told, here in the Bulgaria-Macedonia border region they are actually somewhat stable. I’ve seen quite a few – on a bus ride I took yesterday I saw at least three, one in a tree right along the roadway, staring at the bus as it passed by.

After driving for what seemed a long time, we made it to our first destination – the Цареви Кули, or Czar’s Towers. The Czar’s Towers are the ruins of a fortress dating from the 11^th century that was abandoned after the armies of Constantinople took revenge on the inhabitants for their attempt to rise up. As the story goes, every one of the defenders was blinded, their eyes removed, except for one out of every one hundred – who only had one eye removed. There is evidence that the site was utilized even earlier than the time from which the fortress dates, as artifacts dating to the 4^th century BC have been found.

After we walked around the ruins for a little bit (which was amazing, just being able to look out over the city like that, and looking DOWN on Strumica’s hill cross), we piled back in the car and headed a little bit lower on the mountain. We parked and got out for what I was told was a quick, 200m hike. As it turned out, it was more like a quick 2.5km hike. But it’s all good.

Where we ended up was at the Monastery of St. Ilija. Although there are some who think it’s older, conventional agreement is that it was built sometime in the 16^th century. It was destroyed in 1923, then rebuilt, and currently houses lodging quarters in addition to the monastery itself. It’s relatively small, but nicely isolated and has a good ‘vibe’ about it.

After visiting the monastery, we walked back to the car, headed back down the mountain, and back to the Баба’s and Дедо’s place for lunch. Lunch was good, and the most exciting part was it was the first time I have been here in country that I actually had fresh, steamed vegetables (broccoli and cauliflower). It was amazing.

Except for one part.

This is where those 2^nd degree burns I mentioned come into play.

While eating, they were bringing out some stuff from the kitchen. One of the things they were putting down to put the hot pots on fell, and without thinking about it, I reached out to catch it; which, unfortunately I did. It too turned out to be fresh from the stove…and needless to say, REALLY hot.

My fingers blistered pretty much immediately, and the pain only took a few seconds to catch up. Not how I was hoping to end the meal – eating with one hand while the other was soaking in cool water.

After that we headed back to the house, via a few shops to try to do some shopping. One nice thing about this country, especially compared to Ghana, is that every city, even every town, has some sort of supermarket that has some actual claim to be called a supermarket. Pretty much everything you could need can be found here, including many of the brands I used in the States. I managed to get my Head & Shoulders, and my Dove soap. I was happy.

The next day, Monday, was my first day of work, and the day I began writing this here post. It was somehow a weird of mix of anxiety and, ‘let’s get this started.’ It’s sort of hard to explain.

I live out in the ‘suburbs’, in a residential area, and it took me about 25 minutes to walk to the building I work in; maybe 30 minutes including the quick stop to buy my morning coffee substitute – Coke. From site visit, thankfully, I remembered how to get here, and remembered where the office was once I got to the building.

I walked in, walked up the stairs, and into where I will be working for (hopefully) the next two years. It was kind of a crazy feeling. The day went pretty much as I expected, some meetings with the boss, some really boring times, and some craziness here and there. We spent a little bit of time at the police station, as we, as foreigners, have to register in each city we are living in. Unfortunately, the officer on duty (basically, what I would call a desk sergeant) didn’t have the authority to issue a card for more than 3 months, and directed us to come back in two days (the next day is a holiday) in order to speak with an inspector about getting a two-year authorization. Normally, they wouldn’t do that, but as PC volunteers we have a special ID card issued by the Macedonian government, and they said that should do the trick. As with the Border Police when I arrived, it was a really good interaction, and the officer was very nice and professional (somehow different than some of the interactions I had in Ghana!).

One thing I will admit is that, even as it was just day one, there were a few things that happened that really frustrated me. To the point that I found myself thinking whether or not I really want to work in this atmosphere for the next two years. It may seem odd to be thinking about ETing on day 1, but in reality, I don’t think it is that uncommon. I’ve talked to other volunteers (I almost wrote trainees!) from my group, and they have said the same. The thing is, I don’t think any of us really would ET from just a one-day experience, but day 1 is a very impactful, emotional, and tough day. In many ways, its hard not to see what happens as what will be the tone for the whole two years, but I know, logically, from my previous experience, that it takes time to work out how the host organization and the volunteer will actually end up working together, what the respective roles will be, and what other things will come out of the partnership between the HCNs and the PCV.

It’s something I think some of the people I talked to were not expecting; as I’ve said before, the general tone through PST was to not have current PCVs talk to us (then) trainees about their experiences, especially the negative parts. This is one example of why I think that has the opposite impact than intended.

While the thought did enter my mind (three times??), I’ve got to say, in reality, I’m not going to ET. Nor do I think the other volunteers I talked to will.

I’m going to give this experience the time it requires to see what happens. I’m going to be frustrated again, and stressed out, but that’s just part of being a Peace Corps Volunteer. It’s something I knew I’d face, consciously, when I applied and accepted my invitation, and it’s something I just have to deal with in order to have those moments that are amazing, and will be what, 10 years from now, I tell in stories over and over and over again.

THE BIG MILESTONE

A little over 12 years ago, I wrote this email to my family and friends: https://doingittwice.wordpress.com/2003/11/21/pst-the-opi-a-pcv-and-professional-criers/.

The email started with an admonition to never again call me a PCT, as I had just sworn-in and was now a PCV. Over a decade later, the same holds true. I am no longer a PCT, I am a full-fledged, sworn-in, Peace Corps Volunteer.

Again.

Yesterday was probably the biggest day, after CoS, in the cycle of the Peace Corps experience. While I will do my usual story-based post here, I think it’s important to make a couple comments. This blog is not just about my day-to-day activities (although, I admit, it mostly is), but also about how some of those activities and events make me feel; what it’s like to be not only a PCV here in Macedonia, but a RPCV serving again.

It’s that second thing that I want to comment on.

When we swore-in in Ghana, it was a cultural event. We all had to dress in traditional clothing, we had to perform skits in the language we had learned, playing the part of traditional members of a village, and we had to drum and dance. The speeches were minimal, one from each language group, and a quick one from the Deputy Chief of Mission from the US Embassy before he led us through the oath.

We sat outside, under canopies, sweating as usual in the African heat, sitting in plastic chairs with the “Gye Nyame” symbol carved in the back, the atmosphere somewhat electric, yet relaxed and festive. We had a traditional blessing, and I remember feeling like a part of a place so different than the one I grew up in.

Here, in Macedonia, the occasion was just as important. As I’ve said, swearing-in is probably, in my opinion, the single greatest milestone other than CoSing that a Peace Corps volunteer reaches.

This time, however, the setting, and the atmosphere was very different. At 10:30 in the morning, all of us trainees, along with most of our host families, gathered in front of the municipality, where we usually waited for our mini-bus to hub days. This time, we were dressed in suits, and formal dresses. The host families had on a range of clothing, but in every case they had cleaned up well.

We boarded a big tour-style bus, the trainees and host families from Stip already onboard, also done up for the day’s events. After our two hour drive to the capital, we arrived at the City Hall Center, an event venue that looked very nice from the inside.

Outside the entrance were some of the PST staff, name badges proclaiming their names, and their positions, serving as greeters and hustling us inside. Other staff waited just inside, showing us to the coat room, directing the host families and guests to seats in the big hall, while the trainees were shown a waiting area.

In the lobby, a three-piece string orchestra played music in their own suits and formal dresses. A bar stretched across the designated waiting place, tables set out for us to sit at, drinks available for a price.

Eventually we were lined up, two-by-two, alphabetically, and led into a room, behind a curtain for the ceremony to start, waiting for our cue to enter. As the ceremony started, streamed live online for all to see, we were called in, the curtains pushed aside, and the two adjacent lines began to move into the hall, down the aisle between the two sets of seats, guests sitting and clapping for us, as we took our seats, our names on the backs so that we would sit in the proper order, three or four rows to a side, sitting in the prescribed manner, walking down the rows in an orderly fashion.

The program for the day was on each of our seats, and we went through various speeches, and introductions of each of the trainees to the audience. The US ambassador spoke, as did the Turkish ambassador to Macedonia. He, 40 years prior, had been taught by Peace Corps volunteers in the village in which he grew up, and he had asked, as a special favor, to be allowed to make some comments as a way to say thank you to the PCVs who had helped to shape who he is today.

We sang the US national anthem, then the Macedonian. The US ambassador then had us raise our right hands, and take the oath of office, followed a little later by the Peace Corps pledge.

After the ceremony we received our certificates, and our pins. We took pictures with the whole group, and with our LCFs.

We then were led into the adjacent rooms, where hor d’oeuvres and drinks were waiting. There was a cake, with the symbol of the Peace Corps.

After some time the buses came back, and we were shuffled back on board to travel back to our sites.

It was very formal, and very much like any ceremony I have been to with my job back in the US. While it symbolized something amazing, and represented a true accomplishment, it felt to me to be somewhat….sterile. I didn’t feel the cultural impact of the day, nor the relaxed, festive atmosphere that we had in Ghana. We weren’t allowed to spend the evening together, our last as a training group, catching up and talking about our worries, and our anxiety about moving to our permanent sites.

I absolutely know that many of the volunteers felt the emotional impact of the day, but honestly, it didn’t hit me. It seemed one more government ceremony. I truly wish there had been more of Macedonia in it.

That’s not to say it was bad…in fact, as far as ceremonies go, it was a great one. I’m proud of not only myself, but of all the trainees who swore-in. Just by being there, and raising our hands, we have accomplished something that only a small percentage of the US has every accomplished. We made it through 11 weeks that may have just been the toughest, most frustrating, and most rewarding we will ever have.

It IS a great feeling to know that you’ve made it.

After the ceremony, some of us went out, for one last time, to Pizzeria Lea. This place has been a staple of our Sveti Nikole experience; so much so that we know the staff, and they know us. I start to say what I want to eat, and the waiters finish it, already knowing exactly what I’m going to get, including all my crazy little tweaks.

It was surreal. Consciously I think we all knew we were leaving, and separating the next day, but none of us I think really had processed it. I mean, we WERE sitting in Pizzeria Lea, eating pastramilija and pizza, drinking beer and soda, just like normal.

I’m also not sure it hit us that we were no longer trainees at that point, but actual, full-fledged volunteers. I don’t think any of us mentioned that at any time during that whole evening.

This morning, Saturday, was even more surreal. I had to pack, it became real. In the morning I went out and met Nana to give her back some stuff of hers that I had. Chris walked by, and we hung out at Café Mexico for a bit, before heading our separate ways.

My host father made me pastramilija for lunch, and made me an extra one for dinner. My host mother made some homemade rolls, and packed them for me to make sure I had something to eat for breakfast tomorrow.

They told me to call them in the evening, to make sure I was ok, and safe, and happy.

The new volunteers that were now going to be in Sveti for their permanent site came in and I hung out with them a bit, showing them around the town, feeling like the proud local, showing off his city.

Then, it was time.

At 4:30, Goran, one of the taxi drivers that we really like, showed up in front of my house. My host father and mother helped me carry out my bags, and we filled up the car. I then said goodbye, and it was a bittersweet moment.

Very bittersweet. I am, I admit, ready to move on, to get to the next stage of this experience. But, at the same time, I really like Sveti Nikole, and I felt so comfortable with my host parents there. That never happened to me in Ghana, I never felt that connection to Asuoso or to my host parents; but here, it just clicked.

I know I’ll be back to visit, and I already feel strange not being in my bed, or playing on my laptop in the living room, while Vasil watches TV, occasionally nodding off, and waking himself up with his snoring, while Makedonka is in the kitchen, on the love seat, doing her puzzles.

The ride to Strumica took about an hour and 15 minutes; not far. My counterpart and my new host father met me at the bus station, rather than trying to describe to Goran how to get to the house.

We transferred my bags, then headed ‘home.

At the house, my host mother and one of my host sisters were finishing cleaning out where I will live. They were both very nice, and very accommodating. My host sister actually normally lives in Switzerland, but is here for a little bit of time. She doesn’t actually live here in the house, but I think was here to help out.

My host mother is a teacher by trade, but recently started working at the school library. She says she misses working with the kids, but seems to like what she’s doing. I do have another host sister, but she is also in Switzerland, and lives there with her husband, so is not here in Strumica.

The place itself is very nice. It’s recently been remodeled, and it shows. While there are subtle reminders that this is not an apartment in the US, on a surface level, it feels that way. I have a big couch, that ‘combines’ into a bed; it faces the TV, which I am now, as I type this, watching (my first TV show in my new place – Warm Bodies; in English).

There’s a nice, wood-paneled kitchen area, brand new, and a glass dining table. The bedroom has two small beds, and a really nice wardrobe.

The bathroom, which only I use, has a nice shower, with a place to clip the shower hose so it can function like the showers we are used to in the US. A brand new toilet, and a nice sink. The nicest part – 24/7 hot water. Even the sink has a hot and cold faucet, not something I am used to here.

After settling in, my counterpart, my host parents, my host sister, and I made our way downstairs to their ‘apartment’. There I met the баба (grandmother); here, in Macedonia, the baba is a position of power, authority, and respect. In some ways, the baba is all. I did not have a baba in Sveti. I do now.

And she is one of the sweetest, nicest, old women I have ever met. She brought out chocolate for us, and helped my host sister make us tea and coffee.

I’m really kind of looking forward to seeing what happens here. As I’ve mentioned, I do feel strange here; it doesn’t yet feel like home.

But I think it could. I also think it could be a good balance between living independently and living as part of the family. The host father doesn’t drink alcohol, which is VERY unusual here, and that actually makes things a bit easier for me, as I don’t drink either. It avoids a very awkward potential situation, when the host family offers you rakija and you have to refuse to drink it.

After sitting with the family for a while, I said good night and made my way upstairs.

All in all, I think today has gone as well as it could. I’m happy with how it turned out.

Tomorrow’s a new day, and hopefully it’ll be just as good.

ЖИВА И ЗДРАВА

It seems to be somewhat of a tradition in my life that whenever I do Peace Corps I have an upset stomach.

All the time.

Africa, Europe; it doesn’t matter.

Today, however, it’s my host father who seems to be suffering. He does NOT look happy.

As soon as I walked in for breakfast this morning he points to his head and says, “Боли глава.”

Then, he says, “Боли стомак.” He pauses a moment, then adds, “Многу.”

In essence, ‘head hurts’, then ‘stomach hurts’; after the pause, ‘a lot’.

I have to give him credit – he knows it was all his fault. He says these things with a smile and a small laugh. Why, then, did he do this to himself?

Well, that’s sort of explained by the title.

And I’ll get into it later.

First, let’s get back to the story.

On Friday, after our hike out to Bylazora, we had class again in the morning, followed by a cultural session hosted by one of the PC staff. Somewhat of a routine day.

Saturday, we had class again, from 8-12:30, and afterwards, some of the trainees from Stip made their way over to Sveti Nikole. After a brief tour of the town and a quick mini-hike up the hill and out towards Bylazora (although we didn’t make it past the edge of the town itself), we turned around and headed back to the nice restaurant, Puze, or Пуже in Macedonian.

Unlike the other times I had been there with my Sveti people, it was PACKED. There was live music, and a bunch of people dancing the Oro, the traditional dance here. We actually weren’t sure we’d be able to sit.

Luckily, the staff found us a table upstairs, and we all filed our way up the narrow staircase to sit overlooking the ground floor. It was actually a pretty decent place to sit as we not only had a good view below, but were basically at eye level with one of the dioramas depicting traditional life.

As usual, Ana, one of the employees there, helped us order food. Scott, the bravest of the brave, ordered rakija. Katie tried it, but couldn’t do it, and if I remember correctly, Bryce and Priscilla were smart, and stayed away. Scott seemed to like it…

We ate A LOT. Massive amounts of food. Beside the sample platters, we had pastramilija and cheese-covered fries.

By the end of the meal my stomach was ready to burst.

Which was why it was funny that we left Puze only to be taken to dinner.

Chris, one of the other trainees here in Sveti, had invited us over to his homestay house as it was the name day of his host father. We had planned to meet him at the center and we literally made our way straight from Puze there. My thought, and I think everyone else’s, was that we would be attending a party with lots of people, and lots of food and drinks; that wouldn’t be a problem, as all the other people would be eating said food, and drinking said drinks.

As it turned, out, not so much.

This party was just for us.

Myself and the four Stipers met up with Jennica and Sabrina, then walked with Chris to his house. When we got there, there was a whole set up on the table. All kinds of food with drinks set out on a smaller side table. It was amazing.

And, considering we had just had a HUGE meal, a bit intimidating.

That being said, it was pretty fun. There was a candle-lighting, lots of toasting, and even more food brought out throughout the night. Chris’s host dad had published a book of poetry, and he gave each of us a personally addressed, signed copy.

I’m glad we went. The Stipers had to get back to their city, so finally, not too late, we headed out, got them a taxi from center, and called it a night.

On Monday we had hub day. Not only did we have our final presentations for our practicum, but we spent time going over some of the most important things we will have to know as PCVs – how payday works.

We also spent time going over how site visit would work; it was coming up in two days.

As I think I have mentioned previously, site visit is a major milestone in a PCTs life cycle. It represents when things become real – you go to see the place you will be working at for the next two years, where you will live, and who you will be associating with. You find out how close you are to the resources you will need – supermarkets, pharmacies, hospitals – and how close you are to the ones you won’t, but want anyway – cafes, bars, restaurants. You also get a taste of how close you are to other volunteers, and can see who will be, most likely, your first level of support as you transition into your future life.

On Wednesday, Nana, Jennica and I made our way to Stip. Although my site is going to be Strumica, I have to get to Stip to catch the bus down. Priscilla, who will basically be my site mate, was going to meet me there, and we were planning on taking the bus down together. As I got to Stip really early, I went with Jennica to meet her future homestay family. There is currently a trainee living with them, so it wasn’t a big introduction – she had already met the family.

After a bit, Martin, Jennica’s future host brother, took Jennica and I to a place called Matis where we met up with Priscilla. It’s a really neat restaurant/café/bar that when you walk in, seems like you are about to go into an alleyway dive. You literally have to walk into this small alcove, then into a door with just a simple sign that says ‘Matis’ hanging above it. I admit, I had no idea what to expect.

But when you get in – it all changes. After walking up a flight of stairs, you look into a really nice restaurant. Dim lighting, nice tables, and a great atmosphere. One level up, you walk out into a café/bar that is mostly open to the outside, and serves some great food and drinks. Another level up is the top floor, completely outside.

We settled in on the café/bar level, and ordered some drinks. The food looked amazing, and the place was pretty busy. After a little time, Jennica had to meet up with her new counterpart, and Priscilla and I made our way to the bus station to get our tickets. The bus was leaving at 1:45, so we still had a while to wait.

Priscilla needed to go back to her homestay to get her stuff together, so she walked me up to where Jennica would be working, and we waited there for a bit until Jennica and her counterpart got back.

While we were waiting, a whole bunch of people passed us carrying camera equipment; we have no idea what was going on, but it basically looked like a bunch of reports heading out at the same time.

Anyway, Jennica came back, Priscilla headed to her homestay, and Jennica’s counterpart took us inside to meet some people and show us around. I will say, the organization’s building is pretty incredible. It has a very modern ‘ballroom’, complete even with a bar. It looked much better inside than outside.

After our tour, and after Jennica met with her Director, we headed back to Matis to eat. Earlier, we only got some drinks, this time food. It was really good, even if a bit rushed.

At about 1:25 I got in a taxi. I had to be at the station to meet Priscilla at 1:30.

Not surprisingly, the bus was a little late, and we finally left towards Strumica at around 2. The drive was, as is pretty much every drive here, beautiful. The scenery here needs to be seen; words and pictures do not do it justice. There were fields, some recently plowed, farm houses, and herds of sheep and cattle. Shepherds and farmers dotted the landscape, and surrounding us in all directions were mountains. As it is autumn, the leaves on the tress were all different shades of red, yellow, and brown, and the overall effect was enchanting. Small fires dotted the landscape as farmers were clearing parts of their land.

The bus itself, however, was packed. It seems we chose the one time of the day where the commuters get on. These commuters, however, were college students. There are a number of universities in Stip, and many of the students commute there from the surrounding towns and cities.

We made one long stop – at a place called Radovisch, and a few smaller stops before coming in to the bus station in Strumica. We passed through Priscilla’s village, and it is extremely close to Strumica itself. In DC terms, it was like going from DC to Silver Spring.

Once we got off the bus, my counterpart and another co-worker were waiting there. They came up and introduced themselves to Priscilla and I, and as Priscilla’s counterpart wasn’t there yet, offered to stick around until he was.

Priscilla gave her counterpart a quick call, and instantly we heard a phone ringing. After everyone introduced everyone else to each other, I headed off to Strumica while Priscilla headed off with her counterpart.

From the bus station, we headed straight to the office I will be working in. One of the neatest things we drove through is an underground area that is part street and part parking garage. It is basically located directly under town center, and has stairs that head up topside. If you aren’t parking, it just serves as another street, complete with intersections and stop signs.

After a few minutes, we pulled up to a building, and got out. My new office.

The office itself is an old building that was built to house the Yugoslavian army back in the day. Now it is used mostly as offices, though not all belong to the municipality; there are one or two NGOs that use the building as well. From the outside, you can see the age, but once you step inside it is much more modern.

My specific office has a semi-large room with eight cubes; four to a side, each facing and opposite the other. I will sit directly across from my counterpart. The people in the office seem pretty nice, though I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to most of them in a ‘casual’ setting. When the boss is there, there’s not much interaction at all.

The office works on international projects, mostly with Greece and Bulgaria, but also with other European and international partners. Pretty much everything they do is in English, although when working with Bulgaria they can speak Macedonian, as their local dialect is pretty much a mix of Bulgarian and Macedonian. Supposedly, as I get better at it, I’ll be able to travel through Bulgaria and understand the language.

Which is pretty cool.

One of the funniest things that happened was as I was sitting at my new cube, my counterpart called me over to meet two guys who just walked out of the boss’s office. I walked over, said, “Здраво,” and got a blank look. One of the guys looks back at me and says:

“What’s up, dude? I’m from Reston, you?”

Completely unexpected (for those of you who don’t know, Reston is in Northern Virginia, right outside DC). The other guy was from Ontario, but had lived most of his life in Boston.

While neat, this little episode highlighted one of the major differences between serving as a PCV here in Eastern Europe and serving in Africa – while you always know the white man is a foreigner in West Africa, here it really is hard to tell. Even many of the locals look like they are American. I know that doesn’t seem like an earth-shattering epiphany, but it was definitely an impactful moment for me.

After work, my counterpart took me over to the hotel I would be staying at during site visit as I still don’t have a homestay family. It was called Hotel Esperanto and it was right in the middle of the center. I’ve got to say, even though I didn’t spend much time there, it felt really good to have a ‘place’ to myself! Especially one with a heater, a real shower, and a nice bed…

That evening, we had lunch (at 6pm) at the hotel restaurant, and then went out walking around town, my counterpart showing me some of the important places – supermarket, mall, T-mobile store.

We ended the evening at a café in center, and it was somewhat surreal. I know I am not in the US, but being in there, I could easily pretend I was. Not just the décor and drink list, but also the people – they were dressed very well, and it felt like being in any small, upscale lounge in the States.

The next day I went in to work, and did a couple of things at the office. One of my other co-workers took me out and about so I could get some more pictures, and pointed out a lot of things that I hadn’t yet seen. Strumica is an amazing city, and I really am glad I got placed there.

In the evening, Cameron, another trainee, and one posted very close by, came out for dinner after he was finished with his counterpart. We were invited over to Grace’s apartment for dinner, and we met up before heading over that way. It was a fun night, after having dinner, we took a walk out in the city and ended up at a café called Que Pasa. Ironic – three Americans, living in Macedonia, eating at a Mexican-themed café.

Finally, we went our separate ways, and I headed off to bed.

Friday was our final day of site visit, and before meeting up with Priscilla for our trip home, I had one more adventure at work. It seems that the municipality had found a suitable homestay for me living on the second level of one of the municipality employee’s homes. He was really nice, maybe in his 50s, and seems like a great guy; I should add, he doesn’t work in the same department I will. He has two married daughters who live in Switzerland, his sister lives next door, and he shares the bottom level of his house with his mother.

Most exciting of all – he also has a big, friendly dog.

Here’s the other shoe: according to what the boss said during the site visit, Peace Corps believes the house is not Peace Corps enough. I’m not exactly sure what that means. I mean, I WAS in the Peace Corps in Africa; I’ve done my time in a Peace Corp-y house. We’re also supposed to live at the level of our co-workers and the people we will be interacting with. Strumica has a lot of money, relatively speaking, and all of the people in my office are (relatively) well off compared to those in a village or other small town. In this case, it is LITERALLY living like co-workers, as the homestay family is in fact working for the same municipality!

Peace Corps, from what the boss told me, believes that the house is too big, and as it has been more or less renovated, too nice. I’ve seen some of the pictures of the places some of the other trainees will be living in, and believe me, it’s not as nice, nor as big, as others.

That being said, Peace Corps has found another option. I saw pictures. I am not impressed. Supposedly they’re going out there this week to look at them; we’ll see what happens.

Anyway, that morning my counterpart, the potential homestay father, along with Cameron and Grace went out to see the potential new house (like Priscilla and I, Cameron had to come through Strumica in order to get back to his training community). It WAS really nice. I would actually call it comfortable. In a way, I’m almost sorry I saw it, as I will know what I didn’t get if Peace Corps puts me in the other place.

After that, we walked back to town, grabbed a very quick meal, then said goodbye to Cameron as he hopped in a taxi out to the bus station for his ride back to his current home.

Priscilla met up with us briefly before he left, and afterwards we took a walk through the park and city so that she could see the sights. Although she is technically in a village outside the city limits, in Ghana terms, Strumica will be her market town. It takes less time to get to her place in a taxi, than it will to walk to work from my (potential) house.

After saying goodbye to my future co-workers, Prisicilla and I got a ride out to the bus station from one of my co-workers along with my counterpart.

When we got to the bus station, the bus was already there, and we quickly ran into the station to buy our tickets, then back out to get on the bus. In another example of how small this country is, the bus driver was related to my counterpart…

This time, the bus was almost empty. Which was great – we could actually see out of the windows and appreciate the scenery we passed by. We could also move around to take pictures.

The trip back to Stip took just about an hour, and after we disembarked, we went over to the board to check the times for the bus back to Sveti Nikole. Before we left, my counterpart had called the bus station to see when the next bus was, and was told 7:30pm. The board had that one listed as well. There was, however, one little problem.

They neglected to tell us that that bus only runs on weekends.

Not really sure what was going on, and seeing that it was only about 3pm, Priscilla and I made our way into Stip and met up with a couple of the other trainees at a place called Nova.

My plan was to head back to the bus station to double check if there really was a bus sometime around 7, and be there to catch the one at 7:30 if there was.. After Nova, we decided to head to Matis to grab some dinner, this time sitting in the restaurant proper on the second floor.

As we walked up, two current volunteers, both MAK18s, were walking out. Both of them had lived in Stip for their two years, and one was CoSing on Wednesday, the other extending for a year and moving to a new town. They both told me that there isn’t actually a bus on weeknights at 7:30, only on Saturday and Sunday. So much for that plan…

I texted Peace Corps, and ended up staying the night in Stip, sleeping at another trainee’s house, Bryce. It was actually nice, I got to see some of the Stipers for a little extra time, and hang out with some people I don’t usually get to hang out with.

The next day, after some quick shopping for Thanksgiving food stuffs, Jennica and I caught a cab (there are barely any buses between Stip and Sveti) back to our own community.

When I got back, I was looking forward to a day of nothing. Just lounging around, taking a nap, and just general being completely unproductive.

Alas, that wasn’t to be. The night before, my host sister, who lives in Vienna, had a baby. They named her Melanie. For some reason, that name seemed very familiar…..

Anyway, just because the new mother and her baby are many countries away is no reason not to party, so I literally had time to drop my stuff off before I found myself at Puze, sitting near the head of a really long table, my host mother and father sitting at the end. There were about 20 seats.

No one else was there.

So, instead of greeting people, I spent the next 20 minutes with my host mother telling me to text Abby the news, with my host mother literally leaning over my shoulder trying to get me to understand what she wanted me to say.

In the end, it boiled down to that the baby was born, was named Melanie, Abby is expected to visit soon, for a whole weekend, and when she does, there will be pastramilija and cake.

I’ve been asked every 5 minutes since last night what Abby responded…if nothing else, my host mother is persistent!

I’ve also been told that I (and Abby) have to come in April (?) to visit when Bojana is back in Sveti with Melanie. If there’s cake, it’ll definitely be worth it.

Makedonka makes a mean chocolate cake.

So, after a while, people started showing up. The cool thing about it was that, as a result of the wedding, I actually recognized and could greet most of them! And, it turns out I was (mostly) correct when trying to figure out who’se related to who.

I also recognized Kire’s (Bojana’s husband) father from a на гости (aka, visit) we had with him a few weeks ago. There were a number of younger kids there, one who spoke a bit of English, and who Kire’s father kept trying to get to tell me things. He was very shy, and kind of shrugged; I told him he was actually speaking English very well, but I don’t think he believed me.

As usual, there was LOTS of food, lots of alcohol, and this time, lots of music. There was a live three piece band, that soon became a four piece band, that walked around playing music and singing traditional songs. It was really cool, and a great experience. If I wasn’t so dead tired from the week I probably would have enjoyed it even more.

What was cool, though, was how people got into the music. While it could have been the generous amounts of rakija and beer (my host father had 10), pretty much everyone was singing along to EVERY song, some standing up and clapping their hands. A couple of people even started a mini-Oro.

It was a very cool experience.

And this is where the title of this post comes in.

When a baby is born, what you say is жива и здрава. It literally means alive and well, but as far as I can tell, it basically wishes the baby a good life with good health.

It’s a bit less colorful than what they said in Ghana – which translated (more or less) to, “Your head has brought life.”

The response, “My head thanks you.”