Saturday, December 8, 2012
Mikuláš Day
Friday, December 7, 2012
Stuck in the Lift
Yesterday I got stuck in the lift (elevator) of my flat building.
I was in the lift with three other people and we were no where near the 500 kilogram maximum weight limit, so it was a little unexpected when the lift started slowing down and then stopped completely (I'm guessing the motor went out). The lifts in Slovakia are designed where there's an outer door set in to the wall of the hall corridor that closes and locks while the lift itself (with it's own doors that you close) moves. So when you get on or off, you open and close two different set of doors. The outer door will not unlock unless the lift comes to a complete stop at the floor of the button one pushes. So when the lift stopped in between floors 2 and 3, with nothin but cement in between there was no way to get out because the outer doors in the hall corridors were completely locked.
The people in the lift with me seemed rather put out over the affair. I didn't say anything, but was laughing hysterically inwardly because of course this would happen while I was in it! (Add that one to the list of "What happened to me while in Slovakia"!) One of the men in the lift kept jumping up and down trying to get some sort of movement going, while the other man was opening and closing the inside doors and pushing buttons to no avail. The women was making phone calls to her daughter to send her looking for people who might be home to come help us. I was silent, listening to the conversations around me and trying not to bust out laughing.
I kept imagining the film Speed while all this was happening... except for the fact that the lift wasn't in danger of snapping cables and plummeting to the bottom, nor was a SWAT team necessary to be called to rescue us from near and certain death. It was rather an anti-climactic event and one that didn't even leave me stressed, harried, worried or scarred (after all, I had my Kindle in my bag, so I was happy as a clam to just sit down and read should the occasion call for it). I figured someone would eventually come and get us.
The whole episode lasted no longer than ten minutes when the daughter of the women was able to find someone who was home to come open the main outer doors on the outside on the second floor. And thank goodness the motor went out when we were between floors because otherwise, a technician would have had to been called or someone would have had to drill through concrete. Anyway, the door was opened and we all had to jump down to the floor through the opening between the top of the ceiling and the bottom of the lift. It was a little farther than I could tell in the dark, but I jumped down, unscathed, and then walked up the steps to the third floor to my flat.
All in all, I am thankful that a) I am not clausterphobic; b) that I was in the lift with other people who knew people in the building (apparently, it helps to know your neighbors!); and c) we were able to get out unharmed, without a technician needing to be called and in a short amount of time.
I was in the lift with three other people and we were no where near the 500 kilogram maximum weight limit, so it was a little unexpected when the lift started slowing down and then stopped completely (I'm guessing the motor went out). The lifts in Slovakia are designed where there's an outer door set in to the wall of the hall corridor that closes and locks while the lift itself (with it's own doors that you close) moves. So when you get on or off, you open and close two different set of doors. The outer door will not unlock unless the lift comes to a complete stop at the floor of the button one pushes. So when the lift stopped in between floors 2 and 3, with nothin but cement in between there was no way to get out because the outer doors in the hall corridors were completely locked.
The people in the lift with me seemed rather put out over the affair. I didn't say anything, but was laughing hysterically inwardly because of course this would happen while I was in it! (Add that one to the list of "What happened to me while in Slovakia"!) One of the men in the lift kept jumping up and down trying to get some sort of movement going, while the other man was opening and closing the inside doors and pushing buttons to no avail. The women was making phone calls to her daughter to send her looking for people who might be home to come help us. I was silent, listening to the conversations around me and trying not to bust out laughing.
I kept imagining the film Speed while all this was happening... except for the fact that the lift wasn't in danger of snapping cables and plummeting to the bottom, nor was a SWAT team necessary to be called to rescue us from near and certain death. It was rather an anti-climactic event and one that didn't even leave me stressed, harried, worried or scarred (after all, I had my Kindle in my bag, so I was happy as a clam to just sit down and read should the occasion call for it). I figured someone would eventually come and get us.
The whole episode lasted no longer than ten minutes when the daughter of the women was able to find someone who was home to come open the main outer doors on the outside on the second floor. And thank goodness the motor went out when we were between floors because otherwise, a technician would have had to been called or someone would have had to drill through concrete. Anyway, the door was opened and we all had to jump down to the floor through the opening between the top of the ceiling and the bottom of the lift. It was a little farther than I could tell in the dark, but I jumped down, unscathed, and then walked up the steps to the third floor to my flat.
All in all, I am thankful that a) I am not clausterphobic; b) that I was in the lift with other people who knew people in the building (apparently, it helps to know your neighbors!); and c) we were able to get out unharmed, without a technician needing to be called and in a short amount of time.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
I Drove in BA and Lived to Tell the Tale
This is a long story and reads like a novel, but it's one of those where I think, "Did this really happen?" And of course it happened to me. I mean what with my track record with the foreign police and visa issues, it's not a wonder. After all, my life's been somewhat quiet on that front lately, so naturally it needed some shaking up a bit, right?!
Monday I drove to the capital, Bratislava, in a car I borrowed, to go the American Embassy to renew my passport and have some notarial issues taken care of, and it ended up being one of those trips from hell (at the time) and extremely comical (looking back on it). I have never driven in BA before, and since this is a country that doesn't exactly label traffic lights with a street names, it's easy to get lost if you don't know where you're going, which I didn't. So the week of not sleeping before hand, from the stress of the job that sucks out my soul, and then the stress of not sleeping knowing I was going to a completely unfamiliar city during rush hour traffic to make an 8:45 a.m. appointment, left me rather out of sorts. (To put it this way, I woke up in the middle of the night over last weekend with my second panic attack in the last four months.)
I basically didn't leave in enough time to avoid traffic (you know it's a bad omen when you leave BB at 5:30 a.m. and still can't avoid traffic), and then I couldn't find Aupark shopping center to park for free and take a bus across the Danube to Stare Mesto (old town) where the Embassy is located... and by this time it was something like 8:25 a.m. And then, by the grace of God and apparently pretty handy backtracking skills, I managed to find and cross the Apollo bridge that took me to the outskirts of Stare Mesto, and make the appropriate left turns towards the center and end up on a street I recognized from the map I'd stared at for days trying to figure out where I was going. I managed to find parking in the Opera House parking garage, which is extremely close to the Embassy, and run to said building by the time 8:40 or so rolled around.
Anyway, the Embassy resembles Fort Knox from the outside. There's a gate surrounding the property, and a steeled security check point entrance for both people and drivers. Security guards (Slovak policemen essentially, not U.S. Marines depicted in films) standing around outside, somewhat on edge, eyes scanning for the slightest irregularity or unusual activity, ever at the ready to draw their guns and avoid (or start?) an international incident. There's a security officer sitting inside the steeled and glassed entrance checkpoint who checks passport and papers, makes a phone call to see if you actually have the appointment you claim to have, and then pushes the button to enter the checkpoint only to confiscate everything on you - camera, mobiles, liquids, chapstick, keys - and sends you through the full body scanner while your handbags go through an x-ray scanner. Then you're greeted by the officer's colleague with the security wand that she deftly moves across your body to make sure you're not carrying anything dangerous/illegal on your person as you stand spread eagle feeling somewhat violated. Before I could stop myself, in the stress of getting lost and then finding my way and barely making the appointment on time, I made the comment that I felt like I was at the airport. The two officers just laughed unapologetically. I was finally handed a badge to wear and a badge to retrieve my personal effects after the appointment, told to go to the "yellow building, second door, window 5." I dashed off, repeating the mantra to myself, and found said place only to have to wait because there was someone at window 5 already.
I was able to get to window 5 and started getting the ball rolling on one of the two appointments I had (that's right, you must make separate appointments for each service you need at the Embassy); I had to pay for my notary services before they would proceed with them, and when I went to window 1, I learned the system had temporarily crashed and I'd have to wait... again. So I did. Then I was called back into the room when the system was running again and was able to pay and then went back to window 5. Graciously, I was allowed to take care of both appointments at the same time, so I was sent back to window 1 to pay the passport renewal fee and then sent back to window 5 again to wait again. Finally, an American employee (Slovaks are also employed at the Embassy) came to approve my passport renewal and notarize the paperwork I needed. Once that was done, which took hardly any time at all, I was able to leave. So I trucked back to the security checkpoint and retrieved my things and leave.
I go back to the car, pay nearly $10 for an hour and a half of parking (!) and drove towards the exit gate... only to not be able to find my ticket to stick in the booth to open the gate. I'm frantically looking, praying, ready to curse when the car behind me starts honking, the driver scowling at me. I start yelling at him, only realize he can't hear me, and then the car behind reverses, he reverses, and I have to reverse, tail between my legs and totally ready to start crying. I drive back into the garage, park and dash back towards the pay meter; the ticket's no where. I go back to the car, looking at the ground to see if it fell, checking the first place I parked, only to see it sitting in the seat I had just vacated to look for it. I leave the parking garage and get a call from the owners of the car I was driving to inform me that there is no highway sticker on the car. (In this country, there are inter-city highways you must have a special sticker to drive on; otherwise, if you get pulled over by the cops, you get a big fine. They're called toll roads, but there's no toll booths on them.) So I'd been driving illegally all morning long and still had to get back on the highway to head home. I decided I'd just buy the darn sticker and be done with it... after all the money I'd forked over already, what was another $13 or so?
So I headed back towards the highway... or rather I pretended I knew where I was going since I have no idea how I got to where I did in the first place. I found the bridge, made the wrong turn and ended up at Aupark, exactly where I'd been trying to find all along in the earlier hours of the morning. I was so frustrated and humored, I pulled over into the gas station next to Aupark to buy the highway sticker, and then drove to Aupark and went inside to buy some fruit at the grocery store inside, which of course was closed because they were doing inventory. So I left and decided to drive to Ikea, which was on the way home... except I missed the turn around and ended up on a highway taking me to Brno, Czech Republic. All I could think was, "Unbelievable." So I drove for a while before I finally found a place to exit, except I couldn't just turn around and I was taken onto another highway going back into the depths of BA, but not in the direction I needed to go. I found a place to turn around, only I couldn't make a u-turn, so I ended up going up a hill further away from where I needed to be. I finally was able to turn around at the top of the hill where there were several apartment building complexes and go back down the winding hill, take a right at the highway from where I'd just come and then follow signs to the highway I needed (going back towards Bystrica). After all that I found Ikea just fine and spent a good bit of time wandering around to calm my poor nerves and just walk.
I left Ikea and though I followed the directions on the map, I somehow ended up on the wrong side of the highway again!, but it was quickly remedied by a hasty exit and seeing the signs for getting back onto the highway going the correct way. Once there, it was a breeze getting back to BB. No problems, no getting lost. It was just the middle part of the journey that sort of did me in. I have come to the conclusion that the next time I must go to BA, I will be taking someone with me who can a) navigate while I drive, or b) take a GPS device with me, or c) take someone who knows their way around BA. Or I'll just take a train or bus. I felt a little better, as I recounted this story to some of my Slovak colleagues, that they were staring at me with incredulity asking me if I'm crazy. One colleague told me she hates driving in BA too, and another told me I was her hero for having done it. I have decided I need a shirt that says, "I drove in Bratislava and survived!"
Monday I drove to the capital, Bratislava, in a car I borrowed, to go the American Embassy to renew my passport and have some notarial issues taken care of, and it ended up being one of those trips from hell (at the time) and extremely comical (looking back on it). I have never driven in BA before, and since this is a country that doesn't exactly label traffic lights with a street names, it's easy to get lost if you don't know where you're going, which I didn't. So the week of not sleeping before hand, from the stress of the job that sucks out my soul, and then the stress of not sleeping knowing I was going to a completely unfamiliar city during rush hour traffic to make an 8:45 a.m. appointment, left me rather out of sorts. (To put it this way, I woke up in the middle of the night over last weekend with my second panic attack in the last four months.)
I basically didn't leave in enough time to avoid traffic (you know it's a bad omen when you leave BB at 5:30 a.m. and still can't avoid traffic), and then I couldn't find Aupark shopping center to park for free and take a bus across the Danube to Stare Mesto (old town) where the Embassy is located... and by this time it was something like 8:25 a.m. And then, by the grace of God and apparently pretty handy backtracking skills, I managed to find and cross the Apollo bridge that took me to the outskirts of Stare Mesto, and make the appropriate left turns towards the center and end up on a street I recognized from the map I'd stared at for days trying to figure out where I was going. I managed to find parking in the Opera House parking garage, which is extremely close to the Embassy, and run to said building by the time 8:40 or so rolled around.
Anyway, the Embassy resembles Fort Knox from the outside. There's a gate surrounding the property, and a steeled security check point entrance for both people and drivers. Security guards (Slovak policemen essentially, not U.S. Marines depicted in films) standing around outside, somewhat on edge, eyes scanning for the slightest irregularity or unusual activity, ever at the ready to draw their guns and avoid (or start?) an international incident. There's a security officer sitting inside the steeled and glassed entrance checkpoint who checks passport and papers, makes a phone call to see if you actually have the appointment you claim to have, and then pushes the button to enter the checkpoint only to confiscate everything on you - camera, mobiles, liquids, chapstick, keys - and sends you through the full body scanner while your handbags go through an x-ray scanner. Then you're greeted by the officer's colleague with the security wand that she deftly moves across your body to make sure you're not carrying anything dangerous/illegal on your person as you stand spread eagle feeling somewhat violated. Before I could stop myself, in the stress of getting lost and then finding my way and barely making the appointment on time, I made the comment that I felt like I was at the airport. The two officers just laughed unapologetically. I was finally handed a badge to wear and a badge to retrieve my personal effects after the appointment, told to go to the "yellow building, second door, window 5." I dashed off, repeating the mantra to myself, and found said place only to have to wait because there was someone at window 5 already.
I was able to get to window 5 and started getting the ball rolling on one of the two appointments I had (that's right, you must make separate appointments for each service you need at the Embassy); I had to pay for my notary services before they would proceed with them, and when I went to window 1, I learned the system had temporarily crashed and I'd have to wait... again. So I did. Then I was called back into the room when the system was running again and was able to pay and then went back to window 5. Graciously, I was allowed to take care of both appointments at the same time, so I was sent back to window 1 to pay the passport renewal fee and then sent back to window 5 again to wait again. Finally, an American employee (Slovaks are also employed at the Embassy) came to approve my passport renewal and notarize the paperwork I needed. Once that was done, which took hardly any time at all, I was able to leave. So I trucked back to the security checkpoint and retrieved my things and leave.
I go back to the car, pay nearly $10 for an hour and a half of parking (!) and drove towards the exit gate... only to not be able to find my ticket to stick in the booth to open the gate. I'm frantically looking, praying, ready to curse when the car behind me starts honking, the driver scowling at me. I start yelling at him, only realize he can't hear me, and then the car behind reverses, he reverses, and I have to reverse, tail between my legs and totally ready to start crying. I drive back into the garage, park and dash back towards the pay meter; the ticket's no where. I go back to the car, looking at the ground to see if it fell, checking the first place I parked, only to see it sitting in the seat I had just vacated to look for it. I leave the parking garage and get a call from the owners of the car I was driving to inform me that there is no highway sticker on the car. (In this country, there are inter-city highways you must have a special sticker to drive on; otherwise, if you get pulled over by the cops, you get a big fine. They're called toll roads, but there's no toll booths on them.) So I'd been driving illegally all morning long and still had to get back on the highway to head home. I decided I'd just buy the darn sticker and be done with it... after all the money I'd forked over already, what was another $13 or so?
So I headed back towards the highway... or rather I pretended I knew where I was going since I have no idea how I got to where I did in the first place. I found the bridge, made the wrong turn and ended up at Aupark, exactly where I'd been trying to find all along in the earlier hours of the morning. I was so frustrated and humored, I pulled over into the gas station next to Aupark to buy the highway sticker, and then drove to Aupark and went inside to buy some fruit at the grocery store inside, which of course was closed because they were doing inventory. So I left and decided to drive to Ikea, which was on the way home... except I missed the turn around and ended up on a highway taking me to Brno, Czech Republic. All I could think was, "Unbelievable." So I drove for a while before I finally found a place to exit, except I couldn't just turn around and I was taken onto another highway going back into the depths of BA, but not in the direction I needed to go. I found a place to turn around, only I couldn't make a u-turn, so I ended up going up a hill further away from where I needed to be. I finally was able to turn around at the top of the hill where there were several apartment building complexes and go back down the winding hill, take a right at the highway from where I'd just come and then follow signs to the highway I needed (going back towards Bystrica). After all that I found Ikea just fine and spent a good bit of time wandering around to calm my poor nerves and just walk.
I left Ikea and though I followed the directions on the map, I somehow ended up on the wrong side of the highway again!, but it was quickly remedied by a hasty exit and seeing the signs for getting back onto the highway going the correct way. Once there, it was a breeze getting back to BB. No problems, no getting lost. It was just the middle part of the journey that sort of did me in. I have come to the conclusion that the next time I must go to BA, I will be taking someone with me who can a) navigate while I drive, or b) take a GPS device with me, or c) take someone who knows their way around BA. Or I'll just take a train or bus. I felt a little better, as I recounted this story to some of my Slovak colleagues, that they were staring at me with incredulity asking me if I'm crazy. One colleague told me she hates driving in BA too, and another told me I was her hero for having done it. I have decided I need a shirt that says, "I drove in Bratislava and survived!"
Thursday, October 25, 2012
The Gift of Seasons
I was running some errands by the center today and when I walked out of one of the shops, I was pretty much stopped dead in my tracks by this...
... and this ...
... and this ...
Yeah, no complaints from me! I can't help but love all these deep-hued colours we're granted during the Autumn season. It makes me want to just wander around snapping pictures, rustling leaves underfoot, while deeply breathing in the smells and sounds of Fall.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Learning to See
"Why do I spend so much of my living hours struggling to see it? Do we truly stumble so blind that we must be affronted with blinding magnificence for our blurry soul-sight to recognize grandeur?"
Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
This is something that has bothered me lately - the fact that I am surrounded by "magnificence" and yet don't see it, don't take the time to see it.
I walk to school most days, and instead of strolling along, I march. I march as quickly and efficiently as I can (oh, that German blood that flows through my veins) to get from point A to point B on the double, absorbed in thoughts of to-do lists, thoughts of deadlines, thoughts of avoiding being mauled by bus and car alike as I cross streets. I march, arms swinging, blood pumping, pores opening and pouring forth the bodies natural cooling system so that by the time I arrive at school I'm a hot mess. And what has it actually accomplished? Nothing but being sweaty, irritated at being sweaty and thoughts of If only I had a car!
In the mornings as I sit in the living room facing the window, reading my bible, praying, looking out at the beautiful fall weather, I always think, I should walk slowly to school today and enjoy the beauty outside. And promptly forget as soon as key locks the door and feet descend steps and reach the pavement.
There is so much beauty to behold along the path to school - leaves crunching underfoot; surrounding hills vibrant colors of red, gold and yellow; the wind crisply rustling trees encouraging them to become barren with the approaching winter months - and I take neither the time nor care to enjoy it, to observe it, to see it. To let it seep to my bones and implant itself into the marrow. Is my life really that busy and consumed that I cannot notice it?
"Why do I spend so much of my living hours struggling to see it?"
Part of learning to Take Time is learning to enjoy moments in the present. The now. And it's also learning To See. Instead of adding this to an endless to-do list, I want to naturally be more aware of the magnificence God's put before me. And in being more aware, to pause - Take Time - to behold it, to enjoy it for what it is. To stop - in the middle of the road if I must - and take it in with my blinded human eyes and let it penetrate my soul to it's core. To smile at it. To whisper Thank You for it.
I am learning to Take Time. Time to see. Time to just be. Time to be in the majesty and glory of God's splendor without agenda. Without making it more than what it is.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Taking Time
My life as it is right now this is the reminder I needed.
Take Time. Enjoy the moment for what it is. Soak in God's grace. Just be.
Take time to do these things actively, not passively.
Take time to do these things daily.
Take Time.
Monday, September 24, 2012
The Summer of Simply Being
As all most some of you know I spent this past summer in Texas. It was one of those decisions that came really quickly and ended up having a very positive impact on the whole of my being.
The decision came at the beginning of (middle of?) a mental breakdown towards the end of the school year a few months ago in June. To sum up things in a nutshell: fatigue, misery and burn out. School was kicking my butt, I was gearing up for an English camp starting the week after school ended and then maybe three weeks before heading right back into the throes of school preparation, moving into a new building, staff meetings and readying the new building for students. My brain basically said, "No. No more of this. No more lack of sleep. Lack of time. No more. No more. No more."
So to Texas I flew. And fabulous it was.
Hands down, best summer I have had in quite some time. Reconnecting with old friends, meeting new friends and spending so much time with family members was the best remedy for my weary, tired soul. I didn't even mind cleaning out the rat poop and roach egg infested attic or the mildewy garage of the homestead that's being sold. I didn't even care that it was 100+ degrees during the day (okay, so I cared, but since there was AC inside and it nearly froze me half to death it balanced out the excessive heat outside). I loved every minute of my time with all six of my nieces and nephews at various times and junctures. I loved drinking coffee while talking to step-mom in the mornings and then spending lazy weekday afternoons watching films with my dad and making fun of the truly horrible ones together. I enjoyed busy days of back-to-school shopping including Art and Violin lessons with sister one and kiddos, quiet evenings of "Midsomer Murders" with sister one and brother-in-law and loud mornings of nieces standing over me matter-of-factly stating, "You've slept late Aunt Emily! It's 7:30!" I had fun watching the show "What Not to Wear" and then shopping with sister three. I even enjoyed one horribly hot day at the barn mucking horse stalls and raking walking pens for brother and sister-in-law. And of course the summer couldn't have ended without a trip to the cinema to watch "Madagascar 3" with the nieces and nephews!
I purposefully didn't blog over the summer. This past summer was not about sitting in front of a computer whiling away the time writing emails or updating the blog or facebook or what-have-you. I did do those things when I got around to it (and when I was at sister one's the kiddos usually tried to commandeer the computer anyway to spend time on Lego.com or PBSkids.org or other fun sites) but it wasn't a priority.
This summer was about being. Being restful. Being among friends. Being among family. Enjoying being in the moment. Enjoying the moment for what it is. Living in the present, not the past or the future. I found it really did make all the difference in the world, in a very positive light, just to enjoy things for what they were. So often I try to make them more - more efficient, more controlled, more focused and structured, which inevitably leads to stress and frustration on my part. But this time I didn't ... at least I don't feel that I did. (I should probably ask my family for feedback on that one since they observed me through the summer to and could probably tell me what I did or didn't do. But I digress...) As I stated earlier, this past summer really was amazing and restful and fun and refreshing. It truly was everything I hoped it would be and more.
The decision came at the beginning of (middle of?) a mental breakdown towards the end of the school year a few months ago in June. To sum up things in a nutshell: fatigue, misery and burn out. School was kicking my butt, I was gearing up for an English camp starting the week after school ended and then maybe three weeks before heading right back into the throes of school preparation, moving into a new building, staff meetings and readying the new building for students. My brain basically said, "No. No more of this. No more lack of sleep. Lack of time. No more. No more. No more."
So to Texas I flew. And fabulous it was.
Hands down, best summer I have had in quite some time. Reconnecting with old friends, meeting new friends and spending so much time with family members was the best remedy for my weary, tired soul. I didn't even mind cleaning out the rat poop and roach egg infested attic or the mildewy garage of the homestead that's being sold. I didn't even care that it was 100+ degrees during the day (okay, so I cared, but since there was AC inside and it nearly froze me half to death it balanced out the excessive heat outside). I loved every minute of my time with all six of my nieces and nephews at various times and junctures. I loved drinking coffee while talking to step-mom in the mornings and then spending lazy weekday afternoons watching films with my dad and making fun of the truly horrible ones together. I enjoyed busy days of back-to-school shopping including Art and Violin lessons with sister one and kiddos, quiet evenings of "Midsomer Murders" with sister one and brother-in-law and loud mornings of nieces standing over me matter-of-factly stating, "You've slept late Aunt Emily! It's 7:30!" I had fun watching the show "What Not to Wear" and then shopping with sister three. I even enjoyed one horribly hot day at the barn mucking horse stalls and raking walking pens for brother and sister-in-law. And of course the summer couldn't have ended without a trip to the cinema to watch "Madagascar 3" with the nieces and nephews!
I purposefully didn't blog over the summer. This past summer was not about sitting in front of a computer whiling away the time writing emails or updating the blog or facebook or what-have-you. I did do those things when I got around to it (and when I was at sister one's the kiddos usually tried to commandeer the computer anyway to spend time on Lego.com or PBSkids.org or other fun sites) but it wasn't a priority.
This summer was about being. Being restful. Being among friends. Being among family. Enjoying being in the moment. Enjoying the moment for what it is. Living in the present, not the past or the future. I found it really did make all the difference in the world, in a very positive light, just to enjoy things for what they were. So often I try to make them more - more efficient, more controlled, more focused and structured, which inevitably leads to stress and frustration on my part. But this time I didn't ... at least I don't feel that I did. (I should probably ask my family for feedback on that one since they observed me through the summer to and could probably tell me what I did or didn't do. But I digress...) As I stated earlier, this past summer really was amazing and restful and fun and refreshing. It truly was everything I hoped it would be and more.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Bianka
I have a goddaughter in Slovakia. I got to meet her for the first time at the beginning of July before I left for Texas. She was born back in January, so she's just about six months old now.
Her name is Bianka
She's the daughter of the ex-boyfriend's brother and his girlfriend
To borrow words from my Aunt Helen, Bianka really is a doll
Gifts
Slovaks have a tradition of giving flowers to teachers at the end of the school year. This is a pretty big deal. The last day of school, students and teachers alike dress very nicely (think fancy Church attire) and students bring flowers and sometimes even small gifts to the their teachers. Each teacher spends the morning calling up and handing out each student his or her report card (usually with some anecdote or poem about each student). The students usually give their teachers the gifts and flowers at that time
While I don't have a specific class I am associated with (at Narnia there are the main teachers and then the after school club helpers assigned to each class... if I had to label my job, I'd say I'm just a glorified babysitter who moonlights as the Native English teacher), so I wasn't expecting anything from anyone. But I was pleasantly surprised to receive flowers in abundance. Mostly they were from my first graders, but they were beautiful all the same.
Orange gerbera daisies, my absolute most favorite flower ever
I was able to enjoy the flowers for about a week before I flew back to Texas for the summer. I have to admit flowers bring a cheeriness I don't realize I enjoy until it's there.
Narnia
The last week of school Narnia held a Sports Day for the students to celebrate the end of the school year and to meet some of the government-sanctioned requirements for extra curricular activities in school (nothing like killing two birds with one stone, right!?)
Fourth and Second Graders
While the guns were harmless (air soft), if you knew the two boys shooting the target you'd really question the judgement of handing them guns!
First graders - Natalka, Barbara and Simon
More first graders - Matuš and Katka S
Second graders with lovely painted faces - Dorotka and Petka
Miss Nina Nina, who I believe was supposed to be a butterfly
Fourth Graders
Katka B and Moni S... after school club teachers who definitely know how to have a good time (love going to the pub with these ladies!)
Fourth Graders
First graders - Katka O and Katka S
Adka
Third Graders - Anežka and Kika
Second graders - Kubo, Marco and Kamil
Third Graders - Danielka and Katuška
First grader Johanka (she's a little spitfire and I love her for it!)
third graders - Šimon, Samko and Anička
Third Grade Class! (Last Day of School)
Third Graders teachers - Monika P, Monika S and Dana H (the principal of Narnia)
Four of my first graders - (L-R) Timo, Matko, Me, Joannka and Maria Pia
Fourth Grade Class! (Last day of school)
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Of Lamp Posts and Recycled Materials
I think it's no secret that I love lamp posts. I found the book The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis an absolutely delightful and witty read because it tells the story of how the lamp post in the land of Narnia came to be. My love for lamp posts has only been fed the longer I live in Europe and traveled about as many of the cities within the countries on this weathered continent have a treasure trove of absolutely beautiful and stunning lamp posts. While I was traveling in Bratislava and Levice a few weeks ago, I came across several that instantly caught my eye and I enjoyed inward moments of sheer joy at the marvel of them.
This particular lamp post reminds me of several in Prague that line a particular street full of salmon colored houses and walls.
This lamp post was in the back garden of a Youth Center owned by Cirkev Bratska (similar to the Evangelical Free Church of America) in Levice
Here it is again. I love the wrought iron detail of the bench that blend so well with the wrought iron details of the lamp post itself.
While visiting Bibiana Art Museum in Bratislava a few weeks ago, I found my senses being tingled with myriads of aesthetically pleasing sights... most of which amazed me because I had no idea there were so many practical uses for trash! (The focus of the exhibit was the importance of recycling and using recyclable materials in all manner of ways in order to save the planet.)
Paper origami shapes hanging from a ceiling fixture
I really loved this! One of my best friends, who lives in Idaho, makes her own earrings out of currency (yes, penny's and the like) and I instantly thought of her when I saw the soda can pop-top earrings. That's the type of thing she could pull off and make look so good, trendy and hip without even trying.
This I just found bizarrely fascinating. It reminded me of something that might decorate the kindergarten room where I went to school.
This is for my family. Notice the Kahlua bottle, guys? That's right, Christmas at Aunt Helen's. Enough said.
In every room around the museum, there were pink boxes with a heart on the top. Every time I came across one, I instantly thought of sister one and her love of hearts.
Inside the boxes were different things. This one had marbles in it ...
... and another one had currency from all over the world in it.
This poster reminded me of sister one as well. Once I read the inscription on it, I instantly thought of sister one's daily ritual of making five cups of tea each morning, lining them up on the counter and then drinking them through out the day as she gets to them. So see, sister one?! You recycle at least two glass bottles a day, so you know you're saving plenty of energy to make your tea each day!!! I hope you enjoy it even more now!!!
This was just adorable. I love the rain drop on the top of the leaf.
The museum was full of wrought iron railings. I loved the shapes and designs...
... especially this one with the heart ...
... which of course brought sister one and Lu to mind.
This one reminded me of peacock feathers and made me think of my best friend who lives in Dallas.
This picture, though I have no idea what it supposed to depict necessarily, reminded me of a cross between Narnia (from the book, not the school wherein I teach) and a really dark version of Snow White.
When I went with some of the students to find souvenirs (for them, not me) there must have been some sort of art competition using barrels as a base because the street where we walked was full of barrels of all shapes and sizes and colors and depictions. I didn't have a lot of time to really inspect the barrels, but managed to get pictures of the two that really caught my eye.
I love the pink spring coils for legs!
While this picture really doesn't do this barrel justice, the lady inside said barrel was indeed created naked. She was surrounded by succulent looking (even if fake) red grapes complete with a wreath made from a grape vine crowning her head. Extremely creative!
All in all, this trip helped me get to know Bratislava a little better...
... and I must admit ...
... my knowing it better ...
... has helped improve my opinion of it.
Before I close this post, I must share one more picture with you. Whilst it's hard to believe, this is what is posted inside the girls toilet stalls at the Narnia Elementary school in Bratislava.
Hands down the best entertainment I've ever encountered inside a toilet stall in my life! While it's completely hilarious there's also a part of me that takes pause when the laughter subsides. I have to ask myself is it a joke, and if not, what kinds of things are going on within in the halls and walls (and stalls!) of Bratislava Narnia that signs of this nature must be posted in the bathroom?! But then the moment of reflection passes (probably sooner than it should) and I find myself in fits of laughter again. It seems a hopeless business to try and figure it out. So I'll just enjoy it for what it is.
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