A Marathon in Byzantium

Waiting to board the buses to the start line. 

Before last Sunday, my previous experience with the word 'marathon' usually centered around watching multiple episodes of highly addictive TV series, like a good season of 24, to take advantage of a rainy/snowy day, or even just because I had nothing to do. It's definitely a word that gets thrown around casually in conversation, usually to indicate something that is stretched out over a long period of time, and often too long. Well, on the 11th I learned what the real thing is like, and I found out it is a lot more painful and longer than I could have ever realized, despite spending the past 3 months training for it. Murphy's Law was in full effect.

Naturally the night before the race I couldn't sleep much, but I sort of anticipated that so it didn't throw me off or stress me out when I woke up at 5:45 that morning. I had everything fairly planned out. For breakfast I ate my usual muesli (from Macedonia in a small bag) and yogurt, managed to get the hotel bring up coffee to the room, and ate a banana all about 2 1/2 hours before the race was scheduled to start. Everything was according to the routine I had established before my long Sunday training runs in Macedonia. So far so good. Faron (another volunteer from Macedonia, braver man than I to be racing since he had his training schedule completely wrecked by a medical trip to DC for 6 weeks) and I left the hotel around 7 to the bus collection point in the center of the Sultanahmet area and we waited for about 20 minutes before we were off to the starting area on the Asian side of Istanbul, just across the Bosphorus Bridge. We arrived roughly around 8am, with another hour to go before race time. Witnessing the long lines at the port-a-potties, we maneuvered over there around 8:15 to wait, and no joking it took 35 minutes to finally get to the front of the line. Afterwards, we scrambled to make our way into the massive throng of runners (8,500+), and with about 5 minutes to spare, we were ready to go. After a countdown the clock started at 9am, and I clicked on my Ipod to start the 'Long Run Mix'.

While those initial few minutes of the race were certainly scenic as we literally ran from Asia to Europe across the Bosphorus Bridge, I felt like I was in a video game, weaving in between slower runners as I made my way further to the front. I knew my clock didn't actually start until my chip reached the start line, but nonetheless I felt rushed because I wanted to settled into my goal pace as quickly as possible. Unfortunately that was my first mistake: I didn't relax and I was running much faster than I needed to just so I could clear away from the crowd. As we crossed the bridge we reached a stretch with a steep decline, so much so that I took these long, almost comically ridiculous strides. Eventually we settled into a flat terrain and it was only then I felt like I could run normally and try to find my marathon pace. I thought I found that (I didn't) and stuck close to group of runners who seemed to be holding a similar pace. Near the old city, the route headed north and eventually the 15km group split off from the marathoners, and that was around the time where I realized I wasn't feeling so strong. I wasn't panicking, but nothing was coming easy, and my muscles were feeling tight as we rounded the bend near Ayup (not before I saw the Kenyans heading back the other way, dang they're fast). By 20km I was still at or under my marathon pace, but I was a little worried about whether my body was going to hold up for another 22km.

At around this point, we reached the toughest stretch of the race- a long, straight out-and-back course along 'Kennedy Street' that offered a nice view of the water but mainly just pain, pain, and more pain. I spent the initial end of this stretch waiting to see the Kenyans coming back the other way so I knew the turnaround point was somewhere like 40-45min ahead. I waited a long time. By 25km I knew that I would not achieve my goal time for the race, and instead I just wanted to finish the thing with some dignity. My pace started to drop considerably by kilometer 28, maybe before, and by the 30th kilometer my entire body was falling apart. My left side abdomen felt like needles were digging into me, my quads and hamstrings seemed to have 100lb weights attached to them, and finally, both my calves were a moment away from seizing up completely if I didn't do anything. So I had to stop. And then I walked, discovering how completely spent my body already was after 30km. I hoped a few minutes of walking would help, and then I could just finish out the remaining 12km at a slower pace. But my body wasn't having any of it. Within a minute of resuming running, both my calves seized up and I had to stop or they would have cramped up completely, effectively ending my race right there. So I stopped and walked again. And then tried to run again. I tried everything I could, including almost 'shuffling' along the pavement so I was going faster than a walking pace but reduced the pressure on my calves. Didn't work. But I kept doing it, eventually reaching refreshment stations and consuming Powerade and sugar cubes in the futile hope that they would let me get past this awful pain so I could run again and finish strong. No luck. It was trench-warfare running, every small gain I made required an incredible amount of effort. People constantly passed me, many of whom I had passed a long while back, yet I found myself now just fighting to move forward horizontally. It was a painful, humbling, and agonizing experience, and one I'll never forget. I've had my physical meltdowns in the past, particularly back in my rowing days when I went out too hard on a 2000m erg test and the lactic acid build-up shut me down hard. But this was different, because it was literally seven miles of fighting my own body well beyond the point it was willing to accept. Nevertheless, I continued with my walk-shuffle run-walk-zombie run (it kinda felt like that)-routine, and by the 40km mark I was within striking distance of the finish line. I had a very brief 'second wind' around that point, where I ran uninterrupted for about 5-7 minutes, no calf-seizing, until we reached the Gulhane Park and from there it was about 1.5 km to go. And there was no way in hell I was going to cross that finish line walking. By the time I did cross the line, I was in a daze-like state, not sure whether to cry, collapse to the ground, or just enjoy some time where I didn't have to move at all. I was definitely glad to be done.

Looking back on it and seeing the results (and split times every 5km), there were several things that I could have controlled and done better, and several that were totally out of my control. My first 10-15km of the race was far too fast- I was running at least 15 seconds per mile faster than my target pace, and I never trained that way. I also learned that I didn't train enough at my marathon pace in the 3 months leading up to the race. It was only the last few weeks that I did that, and never at the 20-25 mile range that would have been most beneficial. My body wasn't prepared for that degree of abuse, and it reacted quite negatively. Since it was my first ever marathon, I should have raced more conservatively because I really had no idea how it was going to turn out. The biggest uncontrollable factor was that it just wasn't my day. Despite the tapering and resting leading up, I didn't feel the level of energy I've felt on some of my best training runs. Fortunately I'm already motivated for marathon #2 sometime next Spring, so I'll have a chance to work on these things :)

After the marathon, I also happened to realize I was in Istanbul and it's a pretty cool city with a lot to do. While both Faron and I were totally spent that Sunday, we worked up the energy to go explore some on Monday and Tuesday, visiting some of the bazaars, mosques, and taking in some outstanding views of the Bosphorus from the top of the Galata Tower.

Walking around near the Spice Bazaar.

Spice Bazaar. Big tourist trap, was not super impressed but #44 had some great dried fruit selection. 

Galata Tower

Bosphorus Bridge (where we started the race) in the distance.

Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque from Galata Tower.

Somehow we managed to visit a Starbucks every single day while we were in town as well. To my (very small) credit, I had a different drink every day, and we never went to the same one. Yeah, Istanbul has a lot of Starbucks cafes. Anyway, besides the sight-seeing and coffee drinking, we sampled plenty of the local Efes beer, which I think is somehow mandated because I saw very little imported beer at the pubs we tried out. We did find a really cool area in Beyoglu, around the pedestrian street Istiklal Caddesi, where there was a dense clustering of outdoor pubs and bars, and most importantly, fairly cheap beer. It was a great place for people-watching and seemed to have far more locals hanging out than the touristy Sultanahmet area.

Istiklal Caddesi

View from the bar.

On my last day I visited the Archaeological Museum of Istanbul in the Topkapi Palace complex, and it was definitely a highlight. It was one of the few museums where 4500-year-old tablets and other artifacts felt accessible, without dense glass boxes around them. There was a special section for sarcophagi, and several of them were extremely elaborate and well-preserved. I'd be shocked if there were many other places in the world where you could find such impressive artifacts.

Archaeological Museum

The Alexander Sarcophagus. Incredibly well-preserved and stunning work. 

After the museum, I wandered over the the New Mosque, managed to get a cheap pide (delicious flat bread sort of a combo between pizza and pastrmajlija), and caught my shuttle to the airport. It was a short but very memorable trip to Istanbul. If I had more energy after the marathon I probably would have seen more and ventured out further, but there's always next time! Or maybe I'll explore other parts of Turkey...

The New Mosque

New Mosque again

Fall in Kocani

The Fall in Kocani is in full swing.

Well, since my last post about a month ago, I've had a chance to settle into a new routine, along with a new home and work site in Kocani. In the process, we've seen some real Fall weather lately, not unlike a typical late October/early November back on the East Coast. Well, minus the giant freakstorm hurricane. For instance, over the last weekend we had more rain in 3 days than we probably accumulated over the course of July and August combined. While it put a damper on outdoor activities, it was a welcome sight for once. Unfortunately, on Monday the rain was borderline torrential, causing some brief local flooding and turning the north-south streets into another river running alongside the Kocanska Reka. For me, I had impeccable timing for when I decided to depart/return from my daily runs in the morning, managing to catch a break or the miss the onset of the downpour, though on Wednesday it caught me right as I turned around to head home. You can't win 'em all I suppose.

I have to admit that training for my first marathon has occupied quite a lot of my energy and focus over the past month, and now I'm sitting here one week away from hopping on a plane to Istanbul. It is hard to believe that I started training for this back in early August, and furthermore how much confidence I've gained since I first started. Now, I look back at the distances I was running in those early weeks and laugh. But at the time, I really did not know what my body could handle, since I have never been a serious long distance runner before, just someone who ran for fitness, usually no more than 5 or 6 miles, while doing other things like biking and hiking. Moreover, it had been years since I've trained for anything, much less a marathon, basically since the end of my rowing days up at end of 2004. What I've found is that whatever drive I used have when I was a rower hasn't gone away, and waking up to go running in the morning these days is no different to me now than jumping on a erg for an hour or carrying a single out of the boat shed. Even my fears related to my unique physical conditions have become a non-issue more or less right after I walk out my front door. I guess it is proof that the body can adapt, even when you think it can't after years of frustration and struggle. Ultimately, this whole experience has been a success, and it doesn't matter what happens after I cross the Bosphorus Bridge in Istanbul on November 11th (besides the inevitable pain of 26.2 miles). Of course, I have my specific goal time in mind and I am optimistic that I will be able to achieve it, but I will only be mildly disappointed if I fail to reach it (yes I'm a competitor at heart, moral victories aren't quite enough for me). Most important though has been the 14 week struggle itself, and I am really glad I decided to go along with a friend's idea to do this back in July while we were pick-axing away at a 4th Century archaeological site. Istanbul is just the icing on the cake. But before changing gears on this post, here are a few photos that are telling from my daily experience: becoming a MotionX GPS nut and tracking every run on my Google Doc spreadsheet:

My longest training run...you can see at the top where I stopped for 3 minutes to have my first drink of water at 20 miles in. Thank God for the water stations awaiting me in Istanbul...

Yep, I'm a bit of nerd with this one. But I must admit it was the highlight of my day to enter in my info after a successful run...

Besides the marathon training, I've been trying to get better integrated into my new community and I am looking for potential secondary projects to keep me occupied. I've decided to take over as team leader for a Model UN club here in Kocani and will be starting weekly English classes with a local beekeeper association after I get back from Istanbul. My main work is with a small youth-focused NGO called the Association of Law Students and Young Lawyers Pavel Satev Kocani. It's easier to just call it 'Pavel Satev'. I think there is a lot of potential for developing the capacity of this organization, and hopefully some of the ideas I have for helping with this will come to fruition over my next (and final) year of service here in Macedonia.

Beyond that, winter is coming...which I note with some dread, but that also means I will be going home to America on December 20th! I really can't wait to see everyone, and enjoy a wonderful trip to Santa Fe for Christmas time. I'm planning to bring plenty of gifts home, naturally including Macedonian wine, rakija, and honey. If only there wasn't a two-liter limit. But first things first, one more week to go before Istanbul, lots of carbs to consume and tapering to endure. Here are some more photos of the Fall I just took today. Also looking forward to getting a new camera when I get back to the states too...this one is on its last legs...

A trip to Albania / Kocani life

After my last posting, two days later I moved into my new place in Kocani. I already love the place, but I'll get to that later. Anyway, I barely had a chance to get settled (though my landlord made every effort to help, like installing a new laminate flooring in my kitchen/living area the same day I moved in), before I left 3 days later for Pogradec, Albania to attend a week-long Youth in Action program training course on Sept 19. The topic of the course was "Give Voice to Minority Youngsters." I was invited to go by my work counterpart, though normally these training courses involve only European citizens. Therefore, it was a fascinating opportunity for me as an American to not only see 'how they do things here' but also meet people from 12 different countries in both Western and Eastern Europe.

Pogradec Albania, short walk from our hotel. Lake Ohrid from the Albanian side. 

Most of our 7 days (well 8 total to include travel) were spent at the hotel, usually outside or by the park area along the lake. We had great weather and it was a good social atmosphere throughout. I did wish though that I had reviewed some of the basic Albanian I learned at our language IST in June, because the hotel staff was friendly and couldn't say much to them other than thank-you and good morning.

After the training sessions concluded for the day, we had chances to see a little more of Pogradec at night, as well as an 'intercultural evening' where each participant (or groups of participants) prepared a table spread that included food, drinks, and a short video presentation about their respective countries. Rather than try to put something together for the US (I was fresh out of Twizzlers and Jack Daniels), I joined up with my counterpart's Macedonia table. Egregious as it was that we had no ajvar for sampling, we nonetheless still had some domashna rakija, smoki, and ressani. It was, naturally, 'timeless.' Other tables included variations on the raki/rakija concept. For instance, Turkey has raki, but it is much more like Greek ouzo in taste than Macedonian rakija. Both the Bosnian and Albanian rakija were closer to the Macedonian variety, though of course јас секогаш повеќе сакам македонска ракија во секоја прилика. That being said, it was great to sample the other types, along with the great food that people either brought or prepared.

Outside of the training course and entertainment, I kept up with my running schedule, which also helped me get to know Pogradec a little better. I couldn't help but snap a few photos with my phone:

Pogradec from the hill above the town. 

Looking north along the coast of the lake from the hill. 

In the process of one of my morning runs, I managed to trip on a rock and went tumbling over into the dirt. Luckily no major damage aside from a few scratches, but I did tweak a muscle or tendon on some rock when I hit the ground so I took a day off two days later. Yep, I apparently needed to have a really painful following day of running in order to have the common sense to take a day off. 

Once we finished up the training on the 27th, I made my way home and immediately set out to get my new place livable...or more specifically, get my kitchen stocked so I could start cooking. Three days later I've got an adequate spice collection and some full cabinets of cooking supplies. As a testament to that, I've cooked meals at home the last four nights, the first time I've had a chance to do that in about a year and a half. Since I generally have ample free time most days (running in the morning and work till 5ish...that is my life!), I get the strong feeling that cooking will become my new hobby. In the past, I've intermittently enjoyed cooking, usually only when I'm making my favorite foods or cooking for guests. Now, it's going to be a major way to pass the time, so I might as well finally get into it for real. After all I am part of the Bonwich clan, so I'll start looking for the Macedonian Cooks Illustrated. 

Beyond the kitchen, I went for a walk yesterday and I realized that I live in a really nice part of the city. I am basically at the northern edge of town, so I'm just a few steps away from the road that leads to the dam/lake area 'Gradce' and what I think is one of the nicest outdoor areas in the region, Osogovo mountain. So naturally on my walk I took some photos, and here are a few that give a good perspective on Kocani and the surrounding area:

The Kocanska Reka (Kocani River), near my house

Looking back  to where I live, one of those houses down there.

Change

The word "change" is clearly a word that has a whole range of meanings, and differs based on the context or even on the personality of the person who uses it. It can be good, bad, or somewhere in between. It's a very applicable word for slogans, protests, homeless people, political campaigns, or even for proposed invasions of sovereign nations. For me, it is less a word I use rather than something that has defined me of late. In the past four or five years, I've had a nearly continuous succession of 'big' changes where either voluntarily or involuntarily the status quo needed to, well, change.

After heading into the Peace Corps roughly 12 months ago, I thought that this pattern might deviate, since typically volunteers spend most of their service, aside from pre-service training, in the same location. But recently I made the decision to make yet another change. On Saturday, I will be moving from my site Obleshevo to the nearby city of Kocani to work full-time with a youth-focused NGO. My reason was simple: I did not want to look back on my Peace Corps service a year from now and wonder why I didn't do enough to make things better. I came to the realization that the only meaningful or potentially meaningful work I had was in a town 10 kilometers away from me. I was spending a few days a week commuting on my bike from Obleshevo, trying to find something, at the least some type of organization that was interested in working with me to offset the days I spent wasting my time and motivation simply 'checking in' at a place that probably at best looked at me as some sort of shiny (or skinny) American hood ornament. I don't think I will ever truly understand why my previous work site wanted a Peace Corps volunteer.

As I spent more and more time in Kocani, and steadily less in Obleshevo, eventually it became increasingly obvious to me that I had to make a big change, but in doing so it would affect more than just my own situation. I had tell my host family in Obleshevo that I am moving Kocani, and it was probably the toughest thing I've had to do since I came to Macedonia a year ago. I was so worried that they would think I'm leaving because I'm not happy with living with them or some other reason. I worried about their financial situation and how my departure would affect that. Thankfully, they were very understanding, since they understand the challenges I've faced with respect to my work situation. I could not have asked for a better host family during my stay in Obleshevo. I'll never forget their generosity and some of the great experiences we've had together, and I plan to stop by from time to time, for a coffee or, more likely, rakija with some meze.

But now I go back to my personal experience with change. In a way, here I am again, crumpling up the piece of paper and starting over. On the other hand, I can make the argument to myself that I'm building on what I've already started, cultivating the friends and connections I've made over the past few months, and finally becoming part of the community in Kocani. I don't think I 'wasted' my time in Obleshevo. I feel like I did what I could given the situation and given who I am as a person. Maybe I could have been more persistent on some things, or held back my personal feelings and tried harder to work with people who clearly had no interest in working with me. Maybe I should have gone 'na gosti' more in my community, learned a few more things, and maybe a future project could have emerged. Maybe I should have gone out to the fields more with my host family, and made more of an effort to learn about farming techniques and crop cultivation. Maybe I should have embraced the fact that the only 'need' I could find in the community that I could help with was adult English class, and maybe I should have turned that into my main occupation as a volunteer. There are a lot of maybes. But I left them unfulfilled, because they don't fit who I am as a person, my current and future career interests, and they are not what I wanted to get out of this 27 month experience. So instead, I made a change. It won't be perfect. I expect bumps along the road, frustrations, and plenty of challenges. But nevertheless, making this change gives me the best possible chance to look back in September 2013 and have no regrets. 

Break from the heat

Well it's late August, and I haven't written a new blog in almost 3 months, so I figured now was as good a time as any. It is still very hot outside, generally sitting around 100 degrees most days, though I think are supposed to get a break soon after the current heat wave.

Since my last posting, not a whole lot has changed for my life here in Macedonia. I'm still living with a host family in Obleshevo, my primary work site is the same, but I've got another 3 months under my belt in my service. In those three months, I came to the conclusion that the status quo was not acceptable to me, and I did not want to look back on my time here at Close of Service and have regrets about what I could have done to improve my experience. So I've made some changes, the biggest of which is taking advantage of the fact that I live 9 kilometers from Kocani, a town with roughly 30,000 people. Sure, Kocani isn't much like towns of the same size in the US (I'd love a movie theater or a bowling alley), but what is most important is that it has more work opportunities and more people. In the case of the former, I started working with the regional office of a national farmers organization in late June, and I've had a very positive experience thus far. I've been invited to several meetings and topical workshops, including the organization's general assembly meeting in Skopje back in July. It is refreshing to feel that my contribution and experience is valued with this organization, and I hope for more collaboration in the future.

On a related note, my purchase of a bike a few months continues to pay dividends. I've gotten used to not only biking into Kocani for work, but also for socializing and spending time with friends. I've sort of fallen into the routine I had when I was studying in Monterey, where I also just had a bike for transportation. I've even found my preferred 'parking spot' next to the T-Mobile store in the center, while in Monterey it was next to the Admissions house. Also like Monterey, I usually bring one shirt to sweat in on my bike, since it is hot outside by 9am and without shade, and then change shirts when I get to town. Thankfully dress codes aren't too strict so I can get away with shorts and a polo during the summer. For the return trip in the evening, unfortunately I have to use my bike helmet as a windshield against the waves of mosquitoes that seem determined to prevent my return. It's probably too much information, but I generally have to wash a few of the 'casualties' off my arms when I get home.

Beyond my immediate surroundings, I've been traveling as much as possible this summer, whether on vacation, assisting in Peace Corps projects, or just simply getting out to see more of the country. Unquestionably, my 8 day trip to Thessaloniki and the Greek islands of Santorini and Naxos was the highlight. But there were plenty of other great experiences/memories, which I will bullet below instead of summarizing in full:

• the view from the balcony window of Lake Ohrid at Hotel Biser in Struga during Language IST (inter-service training) in June

• sleeping in a tent for 6 nights while serving as counselor during Youth Men's Leadership Project (YMLP) youth camp in July

• watching as three really big шарпланинци shepherd dogs invaded our camp at YMLP one morning looking for missing sheep. Talking around 80 kilos or more for the biggest...thankfully they weren't aggressive!
• Sunrise at the Bylazora archaeological site near the town of Sveti Nikole, before starting a long day of digging/picking/wheelbarrowing in July 

• an epic multi-course lunch in Veles with new friends I met through the Farmer's Federation general assembly meeting in Skopje (July)
• 3 trips to Starbucks in 24 hours while in Thessaloniki
• My first spin in the ATV on Santorini, making me realize it was the best idea ever, and I had to rent one every day on Santorini (I did, and on Naxos too)
• Driving an ATV down to the Santorini port to drop off a friend. Long and windy road, but amazing views

• Sunsets in Oia and Imerovigli

• Doing a risk-of-death assessment before jumping the rock in Ammoudi Bay on Santorini

• Cruising the beaches on the south end of Naxos and randomly stopping to go snorkling with my 5 euro kit

• Climbing Mt. Zeus on Naxos island before doing a sanity check and turning around (wearing sandals and bouldering with no human beings on the trail). Then playing The XX on my phone to calm the nerves while descending (still fell about 3 times)

• Swimming in the Bregalnica River on Ilinden Day in August and not dying from some awful bacterial infection shortly afterward
• Seeing my first movie in a theater (Dark Knight Rises) since I was in Kazakhstan last summer. Much easier to understand when not dubbed in Russian.  

I could probably come up with at least a few more highlights, but I think the ones above pretty much cover my first summer in Macedonia. For the upcoming fall, the most notable event for me will be the Istanbul Marathon in November. Despite it being my first-ever marathon, I am not just satisfied to simply 'finish' the marathon, but I have a specific goal time in mind too. So of course I've got a plan and I'm totally geeking out with my iPhone's GPS app to track my pace, mileage, altitude etc...yep, big surprise (if you know me well enough). Regardless, it is really awesome to have a goal that will occupy my mind and energy until November, and then a month later I'll be back in the US for Christmas. In the mean time, I face the hard part of pounding the pavement, surviving close-calls with crazy Macedonian drivers (and angry dogs) on the village roads, and the inevitable perplexed stares from farmers...

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.