November 4, 2001

November 8, 2001

Thursday night, not even six o’clock, and it’s already dark. It feels like summer was just here. And now we’re already into November. Across the street from us is another block, scattered with lit windows. We spent part of last weekend exploring some of the southern coast of Bulgaria – Bourgas and Nesebur. We both agreed that Nesebur is one of Bulgaria’s richest treasures – full of ancient Bulgarian/Byzantine churches, traditional homes and cobbled stoned alleys. It’s almost an island, but connected by a strip of land wide enough for a two-lane road. The piece of land that the old city is on is quite small and at nearly every turn you are confronted by one of the ancient churches. The walls of the churches are thick and orange from the clay that was fired to make the bricks. The walls are so thick that it almost looks clumsy – there are no hidden supports or amazing flying buttresses like the ones we saw in Prague – but the deliberateness of such thick and solid walls gives it simplicity. Some of the churches were nothing but four walls and a roof; others were more intricate with ceramic decorations and arched naves. We were able to enter only one of the churches – we were too far out of tourist season to see the inside of the others. The old Metropolis sanctuary stood as a ruin, with its two levels of arches and apse that had three windows at its peak. It was more fun to walk around the inside of it, up and down the old side aisles and up to the apse, and see the blue sky directly above me and imagine what it used to look like. On our way up and down the coast the trees were in their high color. It seems that this year has more beautiful colors than last. We were never more than a few kilometers from the coast and the sea came in and out of view.

Somehow, whenever we travel on these weekend excursions – whether it be to meet other PCVs or for a trip to explore some more – we end up gazing out the big bus windows and end up thinking. The landscape whizzes by, the scene is always changing, and it just seems to lend itself to reflection . . . it’s sort of like fast-forwarding your life and seeing the scenes go by quickly. You begin to see the big picture and things start to make sense . . . the busses speeds by a family in a donkey-pulled cart or an early morning bike rider with a small load of firewood in his basket. Many of our thoughts, at this point, are about going home in a few months. Part of me wants to fast forward these last months and get back to the States. Another part of me wants to enjoy everything that’s happening right here, right now. Being away from home for such a long time begins to change how you see everything. I have to remind myself, when I reread my personal journal, of how I was thinking one year ago at this time. My mind was in a different place. Silistra wasn’t familiar to me, my students were all new, and I didn’t feel at home in this apartment. But now I’m relieved to come back here after trips around Bulgaria, even though I’ve gotten used to finding a cockroach or two in the bathroom or kitchen and the annoying lumps on our mattresses. What we’re doing here sometimes feels useless and other times like an adventure of a lifetime. I’d even have to say that I’ve felt both at the same time.

Everything seems to be tainted since the attacks. Songs, movies, books, words, images, and so on, all seem to hold a new and different meaning. Before we left for Bulgaria, I never imagined that we’d watch our country get attacked and then go to war. And as we begin to think about what life will be like after PC, I get that nagging thought – will it still be the same when we go back? We hear about the somberness of life in the States and the difference of attitude. I worry about another attack and what will be attacked. We get the news about the bridges on the West coast being potential targets. I’m beginning to worry about the massive anti-US marches around the world. I’m also worrying about this turning into exactly what the terrorists want – a war between civilizations and not against terrorism. As we can see from the attacks, all that has been created can so easily be destroyed. I don’t want to read the Newsweeks that we get every week, because I feel more paranoid and worried afterwards. I used to devour them within a day or two. As I’ve said before, we feel incredibly safe here. I just hope we don’t turn on the TV to another September 11th. In a strange way I think living here in Bulgaria is like how many of us lived in America for a long time. All those disasters, wars, and famines that we saw on the TV, from far-off countries before the attacks, seemed so distant and detached. We Americans easily detached ourselves from the rest of the world and get lost in our daily lives. Bulgarians realize how terrible the attacks were, but they’re still just images on the TV here in Bulgaria. And life here is fairly normal, except for the nincompoops who scattered some white powder on some park benches in Sofia and Varna and labeled it “anthrax.” Now the rest of the world is watching the crises in America, instead of the other way around.

Peace –

Josh