Пауза for the summer

This week I had my last adult English class in Obleshevo until September. Since I will be busy soon with Peace Corps training, camp, and my own planned vacation, it was best to take a break for two months until I am back to a more normal schedule. We had been going strong since the end of January, starting in both my village of Obleshevo and neighboring Cheshinovo. Unfortunately, once the planting season started in April, it became more and more difficult to make the class feasible in Cheshinovo, and it was complicated by the fact that I struggled to get a ride most days to the school where I was supposed to teach. In Obleshevo though, the attendance numbers were very consistent and it really helped me get to know some people and their abilities in English. Being the nerd that I am, I created a graph of attendance:

Since I'm not a teacher and had no experience teaching prior to this class, I think the main accomplishment here is that I still had people coming to the class in good numbers all the way to June. It took me some time to get comfortable and adjusted to the idea of teaching, but once I got past that it really became a fun experience for me. I looked forward to my Obleshevo class each week, and after a few months I knew that the adults wouldn't keep showing up if they thought they were wasting their time. I tried to make it entertaining with games and activities every now and then, and I learned a lot that I'll be able to use when I start up classes again in September. As of now, I'm planning to have two groups in Obleshevo separated by beginners and intermediate/higher. It will give me a chance to focus mainly on my immediate community and I won't have to worry about how I'll get there in the evenings because the school is across the street from my house. For any of my students reading, thank you for making things fun for me and I hope you all have a great summer.

My last class for the summer. There were a few other regular students who weren't pictured but attended most every class.

Possibilities

It's a been a few weeks since my last blog post, and it's a rainy day on the weekend, so I figured I was due to write something new. The situation at my primary work site continues to frustrate me, but I'm working on some possible solutions, so hopefully something will come out of that. However, despite that and the infrequency of my postings lately, I've had a lot of interesting and fun experiences that have exposed me to some of the cultural traditions in rural areas of Macedonia and my area in particular.

To start, on the 1st of May (Labor Day here), I went with my host family on a picnic (излет) to the the man-made lake Gradche north of Kocani.

Lake Gradche (also called Dam Gradche "брана Градче" because of the dam at the south-end of the lake)

Going on picnics for May 1 is by no means limited to my area- it is a national holiday, so people from all over Macedonia head to the hills and mountains for a day out in nature. Given my affinity for the outdoors, May 1 is already one of my favorite holidays here. So for our picnic, we set up near a fish restaurant south of the dam, and grilled sausages and cuts of pork while sitting around chatting and drinking rakija. On our way back I had a chance to walk inside an old water mill called a воденица which uses the hydropower from the adjacent river to grind up grains to produce flour.

Sitting at our picnic in the shade.

A few days after May 1, another holiday took place called Ѓурѓовден (St. George's Day) and it is tradition in the village of Sokolarci (about 5km from my village in Obleshevo) for the people to hike up the hill behind the village to the monastery (also St. George) and enjoy a day outside with friends and family. I also learned it is common for people who grew up in Sokolarci but moved away to Skopje or other places to return for St. George's Day. One interesting thing about the monastery is that it is on a pretty steep hill, so it involves roughly 200 meters of elevation gain to get to the top. For some people from the village, it was perhaps a day to consider quitting cigarettes.

 On the way up.

 View from the top looking across the Kocani Valley

I did note while I was there that I not only saw people driving their gas-guzzling tractors up the hill, but saw at least two SUVs as well. I felt like I was back home at that moment. Like in America, I think these same people the next day complained about the high cost of gasoline. But overall I had a good time both at the monastery and spending time with some coworkers who live nearby.

Another aspect of life this time of year in my area is that it is planting season for many vegetables, rice, fruits, etc. Given the importance of farming to the livelihood of the vast majority of people who live in Obleshevo, I wanted to get some first-hand experience and try to help out on the fields. So the following weekend after St. George's Day, I went out to my host family's нива (field) to plant peppers. And of course Dundo the dog came with us because he likes running around or sleeping while other people do work.

Preparing the бразда (furrow) for planting. That jug in the back is filled with water. The tractor creates the furrow while it is filled with water. This didn't work. We ended up using underground water from a hose instead.

The field. We planted peppers for about 3/4 of this by the end of the day. 

We arrived at the field around 9am and worked until 4pm, with a few breaks for water and/or sips of rakija. I have to say I was completely exhausted by the end of it. It was sunny and warm, and I spent most of the 7 hours bent down over the furrows to pack the расад (seedling) into the muddy furrow. Since I had minimal to no experience with anything related to farming in the US, I definitely gained a considerable amount of respect for people who farm for a living, and even more so for people like my host parents who are not only schoolteachers but also head out to the field in the afternoon. My hamstrings were sore for a week afterwards.

Instead of taking the next day to rest, I took up an invitation to go hiking with some friends, with the plan to reach the big antenna at the top of Plachovica mountain. Given how frequently I stare at the mountain (directly south of my village) and wonder what the view is like at the top, it was about time that I found out. However before we got there, we had stopped at some really interesting places along the way (and some not-so-interesting places in the middle of nowhere when the car started overheating).

 Bargala- an archaeological site containing an ancient Roman/Byzantine town from the 3rd or 4th Century 

 A monastery from around the 11th Century a short walk from Bargala. 

Sveta Petka, a beautiful monastery in the middle of Plachovica. 

Bargala in particular was extremely interesting, not just for its relative size and history, but also the fact it was devoid of people aside from the four of us, and it seemed well-preserved. According to friends who studied archaeology (somehow I have two of them in my village), Bargala was once an important city in its heyday, not far from the Roman road called Via Egnatia that served as a major transportation route from the modern-day Albanian coast to Constantinople.

After Bargala and a brief stop at Sveta Petka, we eventually made our way to the start of the trail to the antenna tower (called Turtel). It took us about a 90 minutes from the start to reach the antenna area. It wasn't overly strenuous, but a nice hike with lots of beautiful scenery. Living in a flat valley with few trees and greenery makes you appreciate forests and plant life a lot more.

 The trail.

 The view from the top at about 1650m. To the right is Kocani.

The antenna that I see from my house everyday, up close. Kinda creepy in a sense because the facility appeared abandoned. They should film a horror movie there. 

So I finally made it up there. Now my new goal is to get to the top from Obleshevo by foot. It is roughly 30km roundtrip, so if I leave home early enough I should be able to get back by early evening. That'll be another blog post.

I am realizing now this is a really long post, so I am going wrap things up on my experience from Спасовден, which celebrates Christ's ascension to heaven 40 days after Orthodox Easter. In Obleshevo, there is a tradition on the evening before Spasovden and the following day to spend the day visiting friends and relatives. For me, I went to a friend's house the evening before, and then spent basically the entire day on Spasovden visiting people. I really enjoyed it all, particularly because a lot of the conversations involved discussing the cultural differences between how young people live in the US versus those from villages in Macedonia, along with particular family relationships.

Typical food on Спасовден. Since you are visiting different people all day, the best tactic is to snack lightly so you don't pop by the end of it. Same goes for drinking rakija/beer...

Finally, to wrap things up, I finally bought a bike yesterday. It is a second-hand hybrid bike that I can use on some rougher terrain and I naturally took it for a spin yesterday out to the village of Lepopelci and back. I was pretty darn happy to get out on a bike again. I've missed the freedom to extend my range a bit here...no more having to rely on buses or rides from people for short distances. Going hiking and exploring just got a lot easier. Lots of possibilities, all of them good.

 Looking down at the flooded rice fields near the village of Lepopelci. I dumped my bike by a tree and hiked up a hill to get this view. 

In case people aren't aware I'm an American, my bike gives away the secret. 

Crossing borders

For the first time since arriving in Macedonia over seven months ago, I got my Peace Corps passport stamped, and headed into Bulgaria for a weekend in Sofia. It was the natural first choice because it's cheap (only about 10 dollars one way via 15 passenger van) and close (from the border town of Delcevo only 2 hrs to Sofia). I went with a good friend and fellow PCV who lives in Delcevo, and we stayed at a hostel called Hostel Mostel that is a short 10 min walk from most of the main sights in Sofia. Naturally, the first thing we did after arriving at the hostel was go here:

We couldn't help it. We were both hungry and wanted some reliable American fast food. Sure, Macedonia has a few McDonalds' and other unpleasantness, but no Subway. Heck, I don't even prefer Subway when I have the choice between that and Quiznos back in the states. But for whatever reason, Subway was the perfect way to start our trip. After that we decided to wander the streets in search of some of the well-known cathedrals and churches scattered around the city center. 

Sveti Georgi Church

Ivan Vasov National Theater

Russian Orthodox church

The colossal Aleksander Nevski cathedral, built as big thank-you to Russia for helping liberate Bulgaria from Ottoman rule in the 19th Century. 

 

As we wandered around, we definitely noticed several similarities and differences between our experiences in towns/cities in Macedonia and Sofia. For differences, we noted that Sofia is not lacking municipal funding for public cleanliness and trash clean-up. A lot of the city streets were completely devoid of trash and even graffiti. Also, we saw roughly 3 stray dogs over the course of 2 full days in the city of 1.2 million. Next, Bulgaria's EU membership creates a whole different range of choices in stores, restaurants, etc. that we haven't seen in places like Skopje. This is not always such a good thing. While seeing Subway for the first time was a welcome sight, it was on its way to the American model of having one every 1-2 city blocks. McDonalds already achieved that in Sofia. Not welcome. I'll take a banichka or pleskavica over that any day. 

Benefits of EU membership. I appreciated it. 

However, the similarities were obvious as well. From the standpoint of language, Bulgarian is the closest to Macedonian of any language in the Balkans. This is result of a lot of shared culture, tradition and history, and I'll spare the lesson on that (and spare myself screwing it up and pissing off either a bunch of Macedonians, Bulgarians, or both). Regardless, the language similarities helped us get by a little easier, but we also found many people in the city spoke English, not unlike Skopje. Our food choices for "Bulgarian cuisine" were basically identical to what we'd normally find in Macedonia. Their version of a shopska salad (probably the most well-known Macedonian salad) just includes some sliced green pepper in addition to everything else. I didn't get to try any Bulgarian rakija, but I do know that it wouldn't be domashna (homemade) due to EU regulations so I don't think I missed much. Then again having homemade alcohol in a big city like Sofia is a recipe for hospitalization or losing a kidney. 

After spending most of Friday walking around, we ran out of things to do and decided to book a day trip for Saturday through our hostel to the famous Rila Monastery in western Bulgaria. We were pretty beat by the evening and planned to just crash at the hostel early so we'd be well-rested for the long car ride to the monastery the next day. Instead, we found ourselves walking into a nightclub with some new friends from the hostel at 11:30pm where we paid the equivalent of $10 for open bar all night. 

The club. What could go wrong with open bar all night and a tour the next morning?

Fortunately, the next day we managed to wake up in time for our tour and we were off on the road to Rila Monastery. It is located in the middle of the highest mountain range of Bulgaria and was built in the 14th Century, named after Sveti Ivan Rilski. Near the monastery, we visited a church and the cave where Sveti Ivan lived in solitude for roughly eight years. 

Ivan's cozy cave dwelling.

Church next to the cave.

After the cave we arrived at the monastery and had a few hours to walk around. Unfortunately, we had no tour guide, so we missed out on some of the historical vignettes. I found out today from the owner of the burek shop in my village that at one point the monastery itself was divided between Bulgaria and Serbia, or at least between the two Orthodox churches. But regardless, it was beautiful and well worth a trip even without a tour guide:

The mountain backdrop was pretty stunning.

Eventually we made our way back on the road to Sofia, but not before a few photo opportunities worth sharing: 

Looking back towards Rila.

We made it back to the hostel and decided, for real this time, that we were going to take it easy for the evening and just go get dinner at a place called the Ale House. All I can say is, go there. The food was great, they have beer taps at your table (refill yourself), and it wasn't overly expensive. For example, my friend got a delicious wild boar for about 10 dollars. 

Good beer. 

On Sunday we were scheduled to take a bus back to Macedonia at around 8pm, so we decided to walk to the bus station in the early afternoon to get our tickets and just take it easy after then. Well, we found there was no bus to Macedonia at 8pm. Somehow the Macedonian bus system managed to screw us over even in Bulgaria! With no other real option, we got bus tickets to Blagoevgrad (the closest major city to the border with Macedonia) and hoped to find a cab driver to take across the border to Delcevo. We found a cab driver, no problem. But he neglected to mention that had no green card to cross the border until we actually got to the border. With no ride on the other side, we were basically going to have to walk 10km to Delcevo and dodge random wild animals and crazy drivers on the main road. But by blind luck, a cab driver was waiting on the Macedonian side of the border after just dropping off someone from Skopje. And the best part is that he recognized me because I had taken a cab with him before in Obleshevo, and he yelled over to us to come with him. So essentially, all it took was for us to cross the border into Macedonia before everything was right with the world again. I don't know what that means or whether it makes any sense, but I definitely have Mite the taxi driver's phone number saved now. 

Home.

Сиромашни луѓе, но богати души (Poor people, but rich souls)

For the past two weekends, I've had a lot of celebrations. First, it was both my host dedo's and host brother's slava (both named Lazar) on April 8th. I was in Skopje the previous day for Peace Corps activities, and arrived home around noon. Around 1pm, guests started arriving, so the rakija, bottles of Krali Marko (King Marko) beer, and seemingly unlimited supply of snacks and desserts arrived with them. At one point there were at least 30 people in the house, maybe more, since the room I was in had about 14.

Yep, we had an indoor oro going on in the house.

It wasn't long before my host brother Laze broke out his accordion and started playing Macedonian folk songs. Given that he's at music school in Austria for the accordion, he's pretty good, and he was joined in by some friends playing the trumpet, eventually leading to a small oro dance circle in the room. By the time things started wrapping up, it was 11:30 and I was exhausted. But it was a lot of fun. It was probably the first time since I arrived here that I've had a chance to hang out with a large group of only Macedonians close to my age, and I made some new friends I'll keep in touch with.

After a holiday-shortened week, I spent the past weekend with my host family and friends celebrating Orthodox Easter. I have to admit I missed out on some of the traditions this year, because at midnight on Easter Sunday, most people go to the main church in town, and do a bunch of things like light candles, circle the church a few times, and crack eggs with friends and strangers. Hardboiled eggs, yes. I missed this particular tradition because I was at packed bar in Kocani and none of my Macedonian friends really wanted to go to the church, and we all saw it as an opportunity to find an open table when everyone left briefly to go to the church. Priorities. I'll just go next year. Regardless, I still did get exposed to a new tradition that night: everyone stays out really late the night before Easter. But it was fun, met several new people, and went home happy after devouring a greasy banichka with урда (a type of cheese) at 3am.

The next morning, I thankfully avoided hearing the screams of the pig that was being slaughtered for our big Easter meal (thank you earplugs), woke up around 11 and walked outside to see people already outside eating and drinking rakija. Here was some of the scene:

Pig.

My host mom Silvana dishing out some egg salad.

Things were pretty relaxed, just sipping rakija and snacking, until we heard music in the distance. At first we thought it was a wedding, but soon we had a band in our backyard with us playing folk music:

The band. We thanked them with lots of rakija and Krali Marko.

Eventually the band left after about 25 minutes, but again, another spontaneously awesome experience. It was hard to top that for the rest of the day, but we did have a pretty epic feast for lunch. That was Easter.

But the holiday weekend wasn't over yet. The next day was also a state holiday, so no one at home had to work, so we (Silvana, Venco, Lazar, dedo, and me) went to Osogovo mountain for a picnic. We lucked out with weather, and after arriving at the мегдан (basically an open field where lots of people park their cars and set up their grills for picnic), several of us embarked on a short hike down the hill to my dedo's old village of Vraninci. It was another highlight of my time here in Macedonia:

Dedo's village of Vraninci, viewed from the мегдан.

Dedo's house.

This was dedo's old room.

My dedo planted this tree about 60 years ago.

It's hard to describe the experience of seeing this village (we even went na gosti briefly to one of the few remaining occupied houses), but it gave me a lot of new perspective about how dedo grew up and the type of life he lived. We even picked up some items that probably belong in some kind of museum, like a 200 year old bowl for scooping flour. Eventually we made our way back to the мегдан and commenced the picnic:

The мегдан.

Another obligatory oro circle...

After making some rounds around the field, talking to family friends and drinking a little rakija, we settled down to our skara and, of course, drank a little more rakija. My host dad Venco and brother Lazar got out their accordions after a little while and naturally an oro circle formed around them. While watching this typical Macedonian tradition, I was sitting with dedo and remarked to me: "Сиромашни луѓе, но богати души." Poor people, but rich souls. After seeing his village and where he is now, along with the other experiences I've had in Macedonia over the last 7 months, I have no reason to disagree with him. Dedo knows best after all.