So, I know this has been a long time coming, and I'm sorry. I'm going to do my best to squeeze two weeks of a very, very steep learning curve into a readable post while giving a realistic impression about how I'm doing. It would be very easy to sell myself short or sound overconfident (and probably also easy to do both at once), but I don't want to do either. Part of my personal challenge these past few weeks has been to suss out how I actually feel about being here, and hard as it may be, objectivity is paramount.
My first week was pretty boring, in all honesty. Firstly, the freshmen were all on a ski trip so the class load I was shadowing was basically cut in half. Secondly, it was a weird week where the new semester hadn't quite started yet, but grades had been due for the old one, so teachers were supposed to teach classes without having any graded assignments, which doesn't make any sense at all. But it was helpful to get the lay of the land before I was required to do it all on my own, so I did appreciate that particular opportunity my week of student teaching provided me.
It was also helpful to find out which courses I would be teaching and have some time to wrap my head around them before I needed to start teaching. I have freshmen for Speaking as well as Literature and Writing, both of which are exactly what they sound like. Speaking is basically a conversational English class, and Literature and Writing involves reading literature, talking about literature, and beginning to learn how to structure simple essays. I have a junior Writing class, which will cover more practical types of writing in English. I'll be teaching them how to write an application letter, a cover letter, a resume, things like that. Academic writing is covered elsewhere. My senior class is called Coursebook. The primary objective of that class is to prepare them for the massively important state leaving exams, the written part of which they will take in March. So for the next 6 weeks we will be drilling grammar, proofreading, and different styles of writing. After the written portion of the test, we'll be focused on getting them ready for the speaking part which doesn't happen until June, but will require them to speak at length on one of about 20 possible topics covering an array of areas. I don't have a clue about how we're going to work on that part, but I don't have to worry about that right now. Right now I have to make sure they can write a solid piece, use articles correctly, transform words, and complete open cloze exercises, which is at least more objective, if not any easier.
So after a week of following Ben around and killing time in the English Department office with nothing to do, I finally got in front of a classroom on Tuesday. By that point, I wasn't even worried about whether or not I was going to like teaching, I just wanted to start and be able to stop imagining possible scenarios. And it wasn't that bad! There were absolutely some moments where I thought "what on Earth was I thinking, coming here to teach high school without any training at all? I'm crazy." But there were also moments where I thought: "This isn't that bad. Maybe I'll be able to pull this off!" So could things have gone better? Yes, they could have. However, they also could have gone much, much worse. And I can say I've done it, and there's no way I'm going to get worse with experience. It can only go up from here.
I'm not a master teacher. I was clear about that in the interview, and I've been clear about it here, although not to the students. I'm going to make mistakes, and throw lessons away, and not be able to deal with problems the most effective way possible. There's just no getting around that. But I am willing to learn. I want to do the best I can, both for the students and for myself. It's going to take work. It's probably also going to take some tears and frustration, but I knew that before I left home. I knew this was going to be a challenge, and there was always a possibility I wouldn't like it. That's still a possibility. But I could also end up loving it. All I can do now is ask questions, try my hardest, put my best foot forward, and fake it 'til I make it.
09 February 2014
27 January 2014
First Impressions: Bratislava
I'm going to admit something. I've kind of been avoiding writing this post, for a couple reasons. First of all, I don't have pictures yet of everything I'm going to talk about, and if I had pictures, I wouldn't need to write anything at all. But today was my first day at the school, and I feel that this story needs to be told with some semblance of chronology. Secondly, I'm not really sure how I feel about Bratislava yet, and attempting to put it down on screen was a little intimidating. But it also could be liberating. So settle in. Get some tea or coffee and some chocolate. This could take a while.
My plane approached Vienna through a cloud. There was so much fog, that we watched another plane disappear within seconds after taking off. It was a balmy 40 degrees or so, and for the first time in months I wasn't in danger of catching hypothermia within minutes of going outside. Border Patrol was a breeze, and my suitcase was one of the first batch out onto the carousel. As I headed through Customs, I tried to recreate a mental picture of the man I had seen only very briefly on Skype nearly a month before: the principal of the school, and the one picking me up. We found each other relatively quickly and he introduced both himself and his 6 year old son, who told me he felt happy. And sleepy, he added later.
The car ride through the subdued grey of the outskirts of Vienna and the far eastern countryside of Austria was beautiful. It looked exactly how I imagined modern, small-town Europe would look. There were new buildings, some very modern and shiny, others very referential to the history of the area. The streets were narrow and windy, occasionally threading themselves under old gates and along former city defenses. Poplar trees lined the road, and eerily reminded me of Dachau. But then, all of the sudden, Dusan pointed to the left and said "There's Bratislava Castle."
And there it was. We were still in Austria, but the castle was right there, perched on top of the hill looking very forboding and fortress-y, but also welcoming; an ironic contrast, I know, but one that would prove to pop up again. Crossing the border was as easy as crossing from Minnesota into Wisconsin. There wasn't even a sign. We did pass some scary looking buildings, but other than that, the only reason I knew we were someplace else was that the language on the signs had switched from German to Slovak.
Immediately after crossing the border, we were in Bratislava, or at least a suburb of Bratislava. They aren't joking when they say the city borders two countries. It actually borders two countries. You leave Bratislava to the west? Austria. Leaving to the south? Hungary. Mind just a little bit blown. Anyway, we drove through a compound of what Dusan called Commie Condos- big, concrete blocks painted with oddly chosen colors and strewn about like a pile of blocks that's just been knocked over. It was really ugly. And this is where I was going to live. And indeed, we eventually pulled up to one of the blocks, this one with grey and yellow, and hauled my suitcases inside, through the decrepit looking lobby area, into the miniscule elevator, and up to the fifth floor where I was welcomed by both my flatmates.
The flat itself is actually very nice. We each have our own bedroom, painted by the former occupants who were apparently pre-teen girls judging by the brightness of the color palate they chose. There's a good size living room, very usable dining room table in the entry, and a kitchen that's not absurdly small. Bonus: there is also a balcony off the kitchen. The WC and bathroom are tiny, but how much time should you really spend in there anyway?
My first excursion was to a Slovak restaurant, where I had halusky- the national dish of Slovakia, and basically the most filling version of macaroni and cheese you can imagine. It was delicious. We then headed to a wine tasting at a bookstore. Unlike wine tastings in the States, there was nothing to spit the wine into, so sampling 12 or 13 types of wine was quite the undertaking. I cut myself off after about three quarter-glasses, and finished off the evening with peppermint tea and water, a much better companion to my jet lag. I met some very nice people, all of them teachers/staff at the school, although if you asked me now what any of their names were, I would not be able to tell you. We left, around 11, as I was about to fall asleep in my chair, and wandered back around quiet little streets before reaching the bus stop which is located on a main drag. And that was ugly too. Maybe it was the dark, or my sleepiness, but at that moment I was severely disappointed with Bratislava.
However, the next day, after a good night's sleep and the first real, non-airplane food I'd eaten in at least 24 hours, we went back to the main part of town, this time to the Old Town proper. And it was gorgeous. The alleys were properly cobblestoned and winding, with towers and palaces at the ends of them. The buildings were ornate, but not overstated, elegant, but not snobby. It was whimsical, with funny statues of bears and men in three cornered hats leaning over the backs of benches. It's all a pedestrian zone, which is very appealing, and you can see the castle from almost anywhere. And, it's not overrun with tourists and gaudy signs advertising the best Irish pub, like other cities I could mention. I was absolutely enchanted.
So that's the irony of Bratislava. It's both one of the most lovely places I've ever been, and one of the ugliest. It's old and charming, new and dilapidated. The juxtaposition of the 30 year old crumblings of a failed Communist state, and the majestic pink palace breaks my heart a little bit. Who in their right minds could be so blind as to let a city as beautiful as Bratislava seems to have once been become a mess of concrete blocks? Who thought it would be a good idea to wipe away such a rich history and cover it in cement? I just don't understand.
In any case, I'm still torn. Peterzalka, the area where I live, is growing on me a little. Now that I've walked around it a bit, it's much less intimidating. Our balcony looks out over a long green lawn, and just on the far side of the next building is a canal with walking paths on both sides. It's not my forest wonderland of Havlickovy Sady, but for now, it might just be enough. Also, it snowed today, and everything looks better with a little dusting of white.
My plane approached Vienna through a cloud. There was so much fog, that we watched another plane disappear within seconds after taking off. It was a balmy 40 degrees or so, and for the first time in months I wasn't in danger of catching hypothermia within minutes of going outside. Border Patrol was a breeze, and my suitcase was one of the first batch out onto the carousel. As I headed through Customs, I tried to recreate a mental picture of the man I had seen only very briefly on Skype nearly a month before: the principal of the school, and the one picking me up. We found each other relatively quickly and he introduced both himself and his 6 year old son, who told me he felt happy. And sleepy, he added later.
The car ride through the subdued grey of the outskirts of Vienna and the far eastern countryside of Austria was beautiful. It looked exactly how I imagined modern, small-town Europe would look. There were new buildings, some very modern and shiny, others very referential to the history of the area. The streets were narrow and windy, occasionally threading themselves under old gates and along former city defenses. Poplar trees lined the road, and eerily reminded me of Dachau. But then, all of the sudden, Dusan pointed to the left and said "There's Bratislava Castle."
And there it was. We were still in Austria, but the castle was right there, perched on top of the hill looking very forboding and fortress-y, but also welcoming; an ironic contrast, I know, but one that would prove to pop up again. Crossing the border was as easy as crossing from Minnesota into Wisconsin. There wasn't even a sign. We did pass some scary looking buildings, but other than that, the only reason I knew we were someplace else was that the language on the signs had switched from German to Slovak.
Immediately after crossing the border, we were in Bratislava, or at least a suburb of Bratislava. They aren't joking when they say the city borders two countries. It actually borders two countries. You leave Bratislava to the west? Austria. Leaving to the south? Hungary. Mind just a little bit blown. Anyway, we drove through a compound of what Dusan called Commie Condos- big, concrete blocks painted with oddly chosen colors and strewn about like a pile of blocks that's just been knocked over. It was really ugly. And this is where I was going to live. And indeed, we eventually pulled up to one of the blocks, this one with grey and yellow, and hauled my suitcases inside, through the decrepit looking lobby area, into the miniscule elevator, and up to the fifth floor where I was welcomed by both my flatmates.
The flat itself is actually very nice. We each have our own bedroom, painted by the former occupants who were apparently pre-teen girls judging by the brightness of the color palate they chose. There's a good size living room, very usable dining room table in the entry, and a kitchen that's not absurdly small. Bonus: there is also a balcony off the kitchen. The WC and bathroom are tiny, but how much time should you really spend in there anyway?
My first excursion was to a Slovak restaurant, where I had halusky- the national dish of Slovakia, and basically the most filling version of macaroni and cheese you can imagine. It was delicious. We then headed to a wine tasting at a bookstore. Unlike wine tastings in the States, there was nothing to spit the wine into, so sampling 12 or 13 types of wine was quite the undertaking. I cut myself off after about three quarter-glasses, and finished off the evening with peppermint tea and water, a much better companion to my jet lag. I met some very nice people, all of them teachers/staff at the school, although if you asked me now what any of their names were, I would not be able to tell you. We left, around 11, as I was about to fall asleep in my chair, and wandered back around quiet little streets before reaching the bus stop which is located on a main drag. And that was ugly too. Maybe it was the dark, or my sleepiness, but at that moment I was severely disappointed with Bratislava.
However, the next day, after a good night's sleep and the first real, non-airplane food I'd eaten in at least 24 hours, we went back to the main part of town, this time to the Old Town proper. And it was gorgeous. The alleys were properly cobblestoned and winding, with towers and palaces at the ends of them. The buildings were ornate, but not overstated, elegant, but not snobby. It was whimsical, with funny statues of bears and men in three cornered hats leaning over the backs of benches. It's all a pedestrian zone, which is very appealing, and you can see the castle from almost anywhere. And, it's not overrun with tourists and gaudy signs advertising the best Irish pub, like other cities I could mention. I was absolutely enchanted.
So that's the irony of Bratislava. It's both one of the most lovely places I've ever been, and one of the ugliest. It's old and charming, new and dilapidated. The juxtaposition of the 30 year old crumblings of a failed Communist state, and the majestic pink palace breaks my heart a little bit. Who in their right minds could be so blind as to let a city as beautiful as Bratislava seems to have once been become a mess of concrete blocks? Who thought it would be a good idea to wipe away such a rich history and cover it in cement? I just don't understand.
In any case, I'm still torn. Peterzalka, the area where I live, is growing on me a little. Now that I've walked around it a bit, it's much less intimidating. Our balcony looks out over a long green lawn, and just on the far side of the next building is a canal with walking paths on both sides. It's not my forest wonderland of Havlickovy Sady, but for now, it might just be enough. Also, it snowed today, and everything looks better with a little dusting of white.
24 January 2014
In Transit
I'm on my way! After leaving my house around 9:15 Thursday morning, I had an uneventful (short) flight to Chicago, and an uneventful (long) flight to London, which is where I am right now, waiting for my plane to Vienna. It's 8:15am here, but in my head it's 2:15, so forgive any nonsense I may put down, I'm a little out of it.
My last few weeks in Minneapolis were wonderful. Knowing where I was going next definitely made a difference in my mood. I don't like being in limbo, but I'm learning how to deal. I'm ready for things to happen though. I am nervous about this job; I don't know how to be a teacher, and just because I'm an English major with a pretty solid writing background, doesn't mean I'll be able to effectively impart that to eager (or not-so-eager) young minds. But being scared is better than being bored. That's been my mantra, and it's gotten me through some moments of pretty strong doubt. Something my grandfather said really stuck with me as well. When he was 19, newly graduated from college and heading out to an assignment with the Navy, he was nervous about not being able to do what they needed him to do. But then he thought, "Someone gave me a diploma. Someone hired me to do this job. They wouldn't have done that if they didn't think I was capable enough to handle it. So if they're confident in me, I should be too." (Those may not have been his exact thoughts. But you get the idea.)
The school hired me to do this job, knowing my background, knowing that I'm going to be learning just as much- or more- as I'll be teaching. They know that, and they want me anyway. So, yes, I am nervous. But that's not going to stop me.
The only real hiccup in the whole process came right at the 11th hour. After zipping my gigantic suitcase shut, full of clothes, and other necessary items, I thought I had forgotten my glasses in the purse I had tucked into the bag (I was wrong, in fact. They were already in my carry on purse.), and needed to open it up to get them out. Only, the zipper wouldn't unzip! I tugged, and Sonja tugged, my mom tugged, and my dad got some tools from the workroom to try and force the thing open. Nothing doing. So Daddy cut it open while Mom and I went to Target, and bought a new suitcase 12 hours before leaving. It was such a stupid problem that it completely took my mind off my nerves. I don't know what I would have done if I got to Bratislava and realized my suitcase wouldn't open. I doesn't even bear thinking about.
I'm running out of free Wifi, so I should wrap this up. 5 hours from now, I should be in Vienna, maybe even on my way to Bratislava. It's absolutely insane, but completely amazing that this is happening to me. I feel so incredibly lucky. I have some thoughts about what this kind of lifestyle means for people my age, but that's going to have to wait.
Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers; I would never have gotten here without your love and support.
My last few weeks in Minneapolis were wonderful. Knowing where I was going next definitely made a difference in my mood. I don't like being in limbo, but I'm learning how to deal. I'm ready for things to happen though. I am nervous about this job; I don't know how to be a teacher, and just because I'm an English major with a pretty solid writing background, doesn't mean I'll be able to effectively impart that to eager (or not-so-eager) young minds. But being scared is better than being bored. That's been my mantra, and it's gotten me through some moments of pretty strong doubt. Something my grandfather said really stuck with me as well. When he was 19, newly graduated from college and heading out to an assignment with the Navy, he was nervous about not being able to do what they needed him to do. But then he thought, "Someone gave me a diploma. Someone hired me to do this job. They wouldn't have done that if they didn't think I was capable enough to handle it. So if they're confident in me, I should be too." (Those may not have been his exact thoughts. But you get the idea.)
The school hired me to do this job, knowing my background, knowing that I'm going to be learning just as much- or more- as I'll be teaching. They know that, and they want me anyway. So, yes, I am nervous. But that's not going to stop me.
The only real hiccup in the whole process came right at the 11th hour. After zipping my gigantic suitcase shut, full of clothes, and other necessary items, I thought I had forgotten my glasses in the purse I had tucked into the bag (I was wrong, in fact. They were already in my carry on purse.), and needed to open it up to get them out. Only, the zipper wouldn't unzip! I tugged, and Sonja tugged, my mom tugged, and my dad got some tools from the workroom to try and force the thing open. Nothing doing. So Daddy cut it open while Mom and I went to Target, and bought a new suitcase 12 hours before leaving. It was such a stupid problem that it completely took my mind off my nerves. I don't know what I would have done if I got to Bratislava and realized my suitcase wouldn't open. I doesn't even bear thinking about.
I'm running out of free Wifi, so I should wrap this up. 5 hours from now, I should be in Vienna, maybe even on my way to Bratislava. It's absolutely insane, but completely amazing that this is happening to me. I feel so incredibly lucky. I have some thoughts about what this kind of lifestyle means for people my age, but that's going to have to wait.
Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers; I would never have gotten here without your love and support.
06 January 2014
Arms Outstretched
Happy 2014! 2013 was a year I will never forget. It began with
hearing about the death of a dear friend, included a job I loved, an
incredible adventure overseas, huge decisions about how I wanted to live
my life, old and new friends, and the loss of both my beloved cat and
grandfather. It took me on an emotional roller coaster. It scared,
touched, moved, spun, and challenged me. I said goodbye to my kids at
Sullivan, with a heart full of love for their eagerness, affection, and
appreciation. I left for Prague in August with stars in my eyes. I came
home at the end of October, without any idea what the rest of the year
was going to look like, much less what I was going to do once the
calendars were switched out.
But that's not entirely true anymore. God's timing has come through yet again. In the middle of December, right when I was starting to think that my goal of going back overseas in January was unachievable, I spoke to a woman from my church who was hosting an exchange student from Bratislava, Slovakia. She said the school in Bratislava (a sister school of Minnehaha Academy here in the Cities) was looking for English teachers. Native English teachers with a degree- no teaching license necessary. So after talking to the student, I decided to contact the school about any possible job openings. About a week and a half later, I had an interview with the head of the English department who said she would like to set something up with the principal. At that interview, the questions about my experience and thoughts on teaching turned into questions like: This is how much we would be paying you. Would that be all right? And: You'd be sharing a flat with a couple other American teachers. Does that sound acceptable? And, finally: Would it be possible for you to get here on the 24th or 25th of January? All of the sudden, I had a job!
I'm going to be a high school English teacher at a private high school in Bratislava. They already have a literature teacher, so my focus will be primarily on writing. Both people I talked to assured me that the school and the other teachers would help me through my learning curve, never having taught either high schoolers or writing before. I'm going to need lots of guidance, but I'm very excited.
Bratislava itself, while not one of the blockbuster European cities, still has a lot to offer. In many ways I think it will be a better fit for me and my lifestyle than Prague was. It's small, the population is less than 500,000, and much of the city was rebuilt under Communism, so it doesn't have as much historic charm as other cities might. But I think that's ok. Prague was intimidating, full of so many people that I felt anonymous. There were so many tourists around all the time that it sometimes distracted me from my real life, and made me feel more like a visitor. Bratislava seems less intimidating. I've heard there are lots of nice restaurants and cafes in the old town, there's a castle on the hill, a notable, if not stellar arts scene, a UFO bridge, and a university. It is not the city with the highest beer consumption per capita in the world. It's about an hour to Vienna, less than 3 to Budapest, and less than 5 to Prague. There are mountains and rivers providing numerous opportunities for exploration.
No, it's not Prague. It's not Paris or Berlin or Rome. But Minneapolis isn't New York, Chicago, or LA, and I love it here. It's home. Obviously, with my not having been there yet, I cannot say whether or not Bratislava will feel more like home to me than Prague did. But after my experiences in Prague, and knowing what I do about Bratislava, I think it has a chance.
I'm leaving in less than three weeks, and it still hasn't sunken in that I'm really going. Every so often, I'll have a moment of panic where it all comes together in a blinding moment that all this is actually happening, but then I realize, like I did before going to Prague, that it's all right to be scared. It's all right to feel like I don't have a clue. Because I'm going to learn. I'm going to experience new things. I'm pushing away from the dock and leaving the breakwater behind me. It's times like this when I need to remind myself I'm not sailing this ship by myself. I have some of the greatest crew anyone could ask for. So I'll go. I'm ready. Ready to once again throw myself into the world and let the wind carry me across the ocean. I am so excited.
But that's not entirely true anymore. God's timing has come through yet again. In the middle of December, right when I was starting to think that my goal of going back overseas in January was unachievable, I spoke to a woman from my church who was hosting an exchange student from Bratislava, Slovakia. She said the school in Bratislava (a sister school of Minnehaha Academy here in the Cities) was looking for English teachers. Native English teachers with a degree- no teaching license necessary. So after talking to the student, I decided to contact the school about any possible job openings. About a week and a half later, I had an interview with the head of the English department who said she would like to set something up with the principal. At that interview, the questions about my experience and thoughts on teaching turned into questions like: This is how much we would be paying you. Would that be all right? And: You'd be sharing a flat with a couple other American teachers. Does that sound acceptable? And, finally: Would it be possible for you to get here on the 24th or 25th of January? All of the sudden, I had a job!
I'm going to be a high school English teacher at a private high school in Bratislava. They already have a literature teacher, so my focus will be primarily on writing. Both people I talked to assured me that the school and the other teachers would help me through my learning curve, never having taught either high schoolers or writing before. I'm going to need lots of guidance, but I'm very excited.
Bratislava itself, while not one of the blockbuster European cities, still has a lot to offer. In many ways I think it will be a better fit for me and my lifestyle than Prague was. It's small, the population is less than 500,000, and much of the city was rebuilt under Communism, so it doesn't have as much historic charm as other cities might. But I think that's ok. Prague was intimidating, full of so many people that I felt anonymous. There were so many tourists around all the time that it sometimes distracted me from my real life, and made me feel more like a visitor. Bratislava seems less intimidating. I've heard there are lots of nice restaurants and cafes in the old town, there's a castle on the hill, a notable, if not stellar arts scene, a UFO bridge, and a university. It is not the city with the highest beer consumption per capita in the world. It's about an hour to Vienna, less than 3 to Budapest, and less than 5 to Prague. There are mountains and rivers providing numerous opportunities for exploration.
No, it's not Prague. It's not Paris or Berlin or Rome. But Minneapolis isn't New York, Chicago, or LA, and I love it here. It's home. Obviously, with my not having been there yet, I cannot say whether or not Bratislava will feel more like home to me than Prague did. But after my experiences in Prague, and knowing what I do about Bratislava, I think it has a chance.
I'm leaving in less than three weeks, and it still hasn't sunken in that I'm really going. Every so often, I'll have a moment of panic where it all comes together in a blinding moment that all this is actually happening, but then I realize, like I did before going to Prague, that it's all right to be scared. It's all right to feel like I don't have a clue. Because I'm going to learn. I'm going to experience new things. I'm pushing away from the dock and leaving the breakwater behind me. It's times like this when I need to remind myself I'm not sailing this ship by myself. I have some of the greatest crew anyone could ask for. So I'll go. I'm ready. Ready to once again throw myself into the world and let the wind carry me across the ocean. I am so excited.
01 December 2013
Giving Thanks
Yes, I know that Thanksgiving was a few days ago. But I feel like we should be grateful all year long, and not just on one November day before we head out shopping for more stuff. I've always thought that the timing of Thanksgiving was odd. It comes
about a month before Christmas, where the focus is on material things
and getting exactly what you want. How can the frenzy of Black Friday
come after a day meant to give thanks for how much we already have? I
don't understand it. It makes my heart hurt, it truly does. We all have
so much to be grateful for. Please let's act like it .One of my goals for the next year is to really be conscious of the
amazing opportunities I've been given and not take anything- or anyone-
in my life for granted. To start off, here are some things I'm grateful
for right now.
My family, both immediate and extended. First of all, I am blessed to have parents and grandparents who are still married to their original spouse. I've seen my friends dragged between homes and torn between spending certain holidays with Mom or Dad, and it breaks my heart a little. I have two pretty fantastic sisters who I love dearly. I also have a fabulous group of cousins with whom I can reminisce about the silly games we played as kids, and who are all growing up into creative, responsible, successful adults. And finally, last weekend while we were down in Nebraska to have a memorial for and bury my grandpa, I experienced a whole other set of family: my mom's cousins, aunts, and uncles. Even though we rarely see each other, many of them knew who I was, despite my not always being able to return the favor. Most of them knew about my time in Prague, and asked me what my plans were now. While it was sometimes overwhelming, spending that time with them was wonderful.
My friends. Even though it's a cliche, the saying 'Friends are the family we choose for ourselves' is 100% true. I have a great family, but I would be lost without my friends. I'm not the best at staying in touch with people when we're far apart (and even sometimes when we're in the same city), but just knowing they're there if I need them is enough. I have friends from childhood, middle school, high school, college, Scotland, and Prague, and I share a significant/memorable portion of my life with each of them. I truly have some of the greatest friends in the world.
My job. No, I don't have a teaching job in some exotic location yet. But I do have a job at Barnes & Noble, and although it's much less exciting than Prague, or China, or wherever I might end up, it does give me a reason to change out of my pajamas and get out of the house. I've only been there a couple weeks, but I'm confident I'll be happy there for the next month to six weeks before I (hopefully) have somewhere else to go. The extra money doesn't hurt either.
Those are the big things. I am also grateful to have a myriad of smaller, but no less important blessings. Like a shower head I don't need to hold myself. My own bed, complete with teddy bear. Books. To live a block away from one of the greatest rivers in the world, along what I think is one of the most beautiful stretches of that river. That I'll get a white Christmas (fingers crossed). That I have a dryer. That I have the freedom to decide where I want to go next. For a warm coat, and shoes that keep my feet dry. For having had the opportunities that I've had to travel, meet new people, and learn new things. For family and friends who don't think I'm crazy for wanting to explore the world.
It would be impossible for me to list out everything I've been blessed with, but even trying is refreshing and eye-opening. This holiday season, and always, let's try to uphold an attitude of gratefulness and not get too caught up in the maelstrom of video games, TVs, toys, movies, clothing, etc the world is throwing at us. Disclaimer: I enjoy giving and receiving gifts as much as the next person, but it's important to keep everything in perspective. That's my two cents worth.
My family, both immediate and extended. First of all, I am blessed to have parents and grandparents who are still married to their original spouse. I've seen my friends dragged between homes and torn between spending certain holidays with Mom or Dad, and it breaks my heart a little. I have two pretty fantastic sisters who I love dearly. I also have a fabulous group of cousins with whom I can reminisce about the silly games we played as kids, and who are all growing up into creative, responsible, successful adults. And finally, last weekend while we were down in Nebraska to have a memorial for and bury my grandpa, I experienced a whole other set of family: my mom's cousins, aunts, and uncles. Even though we rarely see each other, many of them knew who I was, despite my not always being able to return the favor. Most of them knew about my time in Prague, and asked me what my plans were now. While it was sometimes overwhelming, spending that time with them was wonderful.
My friends. Even though it's a cliche, the saying 'Friends are the family we choose for ourselves' is 100% true. I have a great family, but I would be lost without my friends. I'm not the best at staying in touch with people when we're far apart (and even sometimes when we're in the same city), but just knowing they're there if I need them is enough. I have friends from childhood, middle school, high school, college, Scotland, and Prague, and I share a significant/memorable portion of my life with each of them. I truly have some of the greatest friends in the world.
My job. No, I don't have a teaching job in some exotic location yet. But I do have a job at Barnes & Noble, and although it's much less exciting than Prague, or China, or wherever I might end up, it does give me a reason to change out of my pajamas and get out of the house. I've only been there a couple weeks, but I'm confident I'll be happy there for the next month to six weeks before I (hopefully) have somewhere else to go. The extra money doesn't hurt either.
Those are the big things. I am also grateful to have a myriad of smaller, but no less important blessings. Like a shower head I don't need to hold myself. My own bed, complete with teddy bear. Books. To live a block away from one of the greatest rivers in the world, along what I think is one of the most beautiful stretches of that river. That I'll get a white Christmas (fingers crossed). That I have a dryer. That I have the freedom to decide where I want to go next. For a warm coat, and shoes that keep my feet dry. For having had the opportunities that I've had to travel, meet new people, and learn new things. For family and friends who don't think I'm crazy for wanting to explore the world.
It would be impossible for me to list out everything I've been blessed with, but even trying is refreshing and eye-opening. This holiday season, and always, let's try to uphold an attitude of gratefulness and not get too caught up in the maelstrom of video games, TVs, toys, movies, clothing, etc the world is throwing at us. Disclaimer: I enjoy giving and receiving gifts as much as the next person, but it's important to keep everything in perspective. That's my two cents worth.
05 November 2013
For Now
Well, I've been home for just over a week. After 3 planes, 4 airports, and 1 train, I arrived back in Minneapolis 20 hours after leaving my flat in Prague. As my mom drove home through the midnight dark and I saw once again the familiar sights of my hometown, I knew I had made the right decision. I was so glad to be home.
I still am happy I'm here, a week later. I miss Prague immensely, and find myself daydreaming about moving back, but for now, I need to be home. Since returning to Minneapolis, I've spent time with my family- my sister especially, my grandma, and my best friend. I've been welcomed back into the fold of the church I grew up in, even resumed my old nursery job. I've grown reacquainted to a house without my babycat. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my substantial bookshelf filled with my books- a luxury I've missed most sincerely since I left. I've wandered along the Mississippi river, a very different river than the Vltava, and I must admit, much more beloved. I've raked leaves, done some gardening, rearranged furniture, and climbed ladders to wash the second floor windows before replacing the screens with storms. I've read voraciously for hours without interruption. I've done laundry with the benefit of a dryer, and eaten a week's worth of food without needing to go to the grocery store once. In short, I've been at home, enjoying the freedom of having few, if any obligations, and the knowledge that I am where I'm needed most right now.
The irony is that, now that I've come home to where my roots go deep, I'm more adrift than I was halfway around the world. In Prague I felt like I had to do things. I had to go to work, because I needed the money. I needed to go to the grocery store, because I needed to eat and there was no other option. I got used to being independent, and I liked it a lot. As much as I love my bed and my bookshelves, they can't make up for the loss of living my own life.
It probably won't surprise you to learn, therefore, that I'm getting restless. Maybe restless isn't the right word, not yet. Rather, I'm beginning to notice the symptoms of restlessness, and the shadow of an itch that won't go away until I do. I've literally spent hours online looking at TEFL job listings, and yes, apartments just in case I decide to move back to Prague. The entire world is open to me, but that's also terribly intimidating. Just think about it. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? It's one of those questions that are impossible to answer, like 'what's your favorite book?' or 'what do you want to do with your life?' When you're spoiled for choice, it doesn't make the decision easier, it makes it harder.
The idea of going back to Prague is both very appealing and frustrating at the same time. I'd be back in a beautiful city that I'm familiar with, and at least the language would be foreign in a recognizable way. I'd have a community of people to surround myself with, and probably, a job to go back to. But there's so much more world out there to explore, and Prague, as enticing as it is, didn't satisfy me before, so maybe my daydreams are more based on a longing for familiarity within my adventures. Maybe I'll end up in Thailand or China. I've thought about Russia. Sonja is voting for Brazil.
So that's my life. I'm doing nothing, and enjoying it, for the most part. I don't have any more of a plan than I did before leaving Prague. I'm anticipating that I'll be here through Christmas and then hopefully have something lined up so I can leave around New Year's, but that's complete speculation at this point. For now, I'm going to enjoy the opportunities I have right now both in being home, and in imagining where I could be two months from now. It's definitely good to be home.
I still am happy I'm here, a week later. I miss Prague immensely, and find myself daydreaming about moving back, but for now, I need to be home. Since returning to Minneapolis, I've spent time with my family- my sister especially, my grandma, and my best friend. I've been welcomed back into the fold of the church I grew up in, even resumed my old nursery job. I've grown reacquainted to a house without my babycat. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my substantial bookshelf filled with my books- a luxury I've missed most sincerely since I left. I've wandered along the Mississippi river, a very different river than the Vltava, and I must admit, much more beloved. I've raked leaves, done some gardening, rearranged furniture, and climbed ladders to wash the second floor windows before replacing the screens with storms. I've read voraciously for hours without interruption. I've done laundry with the benefit of a dryer, and eaten a week's worth of food without needing to go to the grocery store once. In short, I've been at home, enjoying the freedom of having few, if any obligations, and the knowledge that I am where I'm needed most right now.
The irony is that, now that I've come home to where my roots go deep, I'm more adrift than I was halfway around the world. In Prague I felt like I had to do things. I had to go to work, because I needed the money. I needed to go to the grocery store, because I needed to eat and there was no other option. I got used to being independent, and I liked it a lot. As much as I love my bed and my bookshelves, they can't make up for the loss of living my own life.
It probably won't surprise you to learn, therefore, that I'm getting restless. Maybe restless isn't the right word, not yet. Rather, I'm beginning to notice the symptoms of restlessness, and the shadow of an itch that won't go away until I do. I've literally spent hours online looking at TEFL job listings, and yes, apartments just in case I decide to move back to Prague. The entire world is open to me, but that's also terribly intimidating. Just think about it. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? It's one of those questions that are impossible to answer, like 'what's your favorite book?' or 'what do you want to do with your life?' When you're spoiled for choice, it doesn't make the decision easier, it makes it harder.
The idea of going back to Prague is both very appealing and frustrating at the same time. I'd be back in a beautiful city that I'm familiar with, and at least the language would be foreign in a recognizable way. I'd have a community of people to surround myself with, and probably, a job to go back to. But there's so much more world out there to explore, and Prague, as enticing as it is, didn't satisfy me before, so maybe my daydreams are more based on a longing for familiarity within my adventures. Maybe I'll end up in Thailand or China. I've thought about Russia. Sonja is voting for Brazil.
So that's my life. I'm doing nothing, and enjoying it, for the most part. I don't have any more of a plan than I did before leaving Prague. I'm anticipating that I'll be here through Christmas and then hopefully have something lined up so I can leave around New Year's, but that's complete speculation at this point. For now, I'm going to enjoy the opportunities I have right now both in being home, and in imagining where I could be two months from now. It's definitely good to be home.
17 October 2013
East or West
It's been a rough week. Since deciding to leave Prague I've been looking at job possibilities around the world, trying to figure out what's coming next. Last week, I set up an interview with a company that provides English teachers for private schools in Istanbul. The day of the interview I left school early because I had a massive headache, my entire body ached, I was chilled, and a little lightheaded. Not exactly the best condition for an interview. But it went ok, and I was invited to make a video outlining my background, why I wanted to teach in Turkey, and my classroom management strategies. So I did, and I sent it off Thursday morning, asking that they get back to me by Friday afternoon. Because here's the thing: the start date for the next intake of teachers? 21 October. Less than two weeks away.
I didn't even have to wait a day. Thursday afternoon there was an email in my inbox congratulating me on being accepted for a placement in Istanbul. I was, however, unsure that I was going to take it. First of all, 10 days is a very short amount of time to prepare to go to a brand new country to start a brand new job about which I knew very little. Also, I need time to organize myself mentally for any massive life change such as this would be, and I didn't know that 10 days would be sufficient. Secondly, I didn't want to jump into this job just because I was in a time crunch and needed somewhere to go. If I really wanted to go to Turkey and commit myself to this, then great, but if I was only excited about it because it meant having a job...well, not so much. Finally, my mental health has not been at its peak recently. I've been stressed out, first about my visa, and then about what I was going to do after leaving Prague, I took a hit with Papa dying, and I've been sick pretty much constantly since starting work. I didn't think my decision-making capabilities were at their best. So while I was excited about the possibility of Istanbul, I was unwilling to launch myself into Turkey quite yet.
I had also recently come to the conclusion that going home would not be the disappointment I had thought it would be. In the few days leading up to the Istanbul offer, I was really craving home, and not just because I was sick. Going home would allow me to rethink my priorities, center my thoughts and surround myself with a loving, familiar environment after what has been a very difficult six weeks. So, following the receipt of the job offer, my choices were: go to Istanbul for 8 1/2 months or go home.
Such was the draw of both possibilities that I spent days agonizing over my decision. I'd vacillate wildly between them, one moment thinking that Istanbul would be perfect and going home seemed like I was giving up on this life that I had wanted for so long. The next moment, I would think I was crazy for even considering moving to Turkey with 10 days notice, no housing, incredibly limited knowledge of the culture and no knowledge of the language. At one point, I got so far as telling my family I was going to go to Turkey, which was followed not even an hour later by a breakdown precipitated by the labyrinthine workings of the Czech postal system (don't ask), and I was no longer sure.
To make a long story short (too late!), I spent the entire weekend trying to decide which direction I was going to go, literally and figuratively. I talked to Mike, my friend from TEFL who is currently in Istanbul on the same program I had applied to. Hearing from him was super helpful, and I never could have reached any sort of decision without his input, so thanks Mike! I talked to my family. I talked to some friends, near and far. And I was still miles away from anything making sense.
Then, Monday morning I woke up, and things had kind of fallen into place in my brain. I spent the day reflecting, and decided I felt good about my inclination. So after getting home from work, I Skyped with my mom and told her what I had decided: I'm going home. I'm going home to sleep in my own bed, to explore streets I could walk down with my eyes shut, to remind myself there will always be a home for me somewhere. Home can be anywhere, and I hope to experience many different versions in many different settings. Minneapolis will always be home. I'm ready for home.
One of my biggest concerns about going home is feeling like I've somehow failed myself. Feeling like I let myself down by not being capable enough to make Prague work, and not brave enough to venture to Istanbul. Feeling like the adventure I've wanted for so long is ending, without any concrete plans to keep it on track. I can't turn those feelings off. But I can try to put a different face on them. I wrote in my last post that I was ready for the next step, whatever it was. And this is it. I've come to the conclusion that in order to move forward, I need to first move back. Trying to push myself into a new environment at this point would probably not be very healthy. I feel like this goes along with my horses out of the gate metaphor: going to Istanbul now could easily burn me out and send me back frustrated and fed up. In order to maintain my dream of living abroad, I need to take things a little more slowly and make decisions deliberately, not because I feel desperate and need someplace to go.
And I haven't failed. I did what I came to Prague to do. I got my TEFL certificate, a document which will allow me to travel basically anywhere in the world anytime I want. I made a life for myself in a foreign country, regardless of how long it lasted. I made wonderful friends who I look forward to visiting all over the world. I learned mountains about myself, and I grew in innumerable ways. I haven't failed.
As excited as I am to be back in Minneapolis and live a life I understand, I don't want it to last forever. Growth happens when you don't understand things, when you have to work for them to make sense. My going home now doesn't mean I won't ever leave again. I will. My time there will be a respite, a sabbatical before I add more stamps to my passport; it will give me a chance to be intentional about the next part of my life. I'll be able to explore different kinds of options and think outside the box. And when the time does come for me to leave again I'll have a better idea of the challenges I'll face moving abroad and will be better equipped to deal with them.
I'm not done wandering. The currents have pushed my ship back into port for now, but soon enough I'll be back on the water, the wind in my face, racing with arms outstretched towards the horizon.
I didn't even have to wait a day. Thursday afternoon there was an email in my inbox congratulating me on being accepted for a placement in Istanbul. I was, however, unsure that I was going to take it. First of all, 10 days is a very short amount of time to prepare to go to a brand new country to start a brand new job about which I knew very little. Also, I need time to organize myself mentally for any massive life change such as this would be, and I didn't know that 10 days would be sufficient. Secondly, I didn't want to jump into this job just because I was in a time crunch and needed somewhere to go. If I really wanted to go to Turkey and commit myself to this, then great, but if I was only excited about it because it meant having a job...well, not so much. Finally, my mental health has not been at its peak recently. I've been stressed out, first about my visa, and then about what I was going to do after leaving Prague, I took a hit with Papa dying, and I've been sick pretty much constantly since starting work. I didn't think my decision-making capabilities were at their best. So while I was excited about the possibility of Istanbul, I was unwilling to launch myself into Turkey quite yet.
I had also recently come to the conclusion that going home would not be the disappointment I had thought it would be. In the few days leading up to the Istanbul offer, I was really craving home, and not just because I was sick. Going home would allow me to rethink my priorities, center my thoughts and surround myself with a loving, familiar environment after what has been a very difficult six weeks. So, following the receipt of the job offer, my choices were: go to Istanbul for 8 1/2 months or go home.
Such was the draw of both possibilities that I spent days agonizing over my decision. I'd vacillate wildly between them, one moment thinking that Istanbul would be perfect and going home seemed like I was giving up on this life that I had wanted for so long. The next moment, I would think I was crazy for even considering moving to Turkey with 10 days notice, no housing, incredibly limited knowledge of the culture and no knowledge of the language. At one point, I got so far as telling my family I was going to go to Turkey, which was followed not even an hour later by a breakdown precipitated by the labyrinthine workings of the Czech postal system (don't ask), and I was no longer sure.
To make a long story short (too late!), I spent the entire weekend trying to decide which direction I was going to go, literally and figuratively. I talked to Mike, my friend from TEFL who is currently in Istanbul on the same program I had applied to. Hearing from him was super helpful, and I never could have reached any sort of decision without his input, so thanks Mike! I talked to my family. I talked to some friends, near and far. And I was still miles away from anything making sense.
Then, Monday morning I woke up, and things had kind of fallen into place in my brain. I spent the day reflecting, and decided I felt good about my inclination. So after getting home from work, I Skyped with my mom and told her what I had decided: I'm going home. I'm going home to sleep in my own bed, to explore streets I could walk down with my eyes shut, to remind myself there will always be a home for me somewhere. Home can be anywhere, and I hope to experience many different versions in many different settings. Minneapolis will always be home. I'm ready for home.
One of my biggest concerns about going home is feeling like I've somehow failed myself. Feeling like I let myself down by not being capable enough to make Prague work, and not brave enough to venture to Istanbul. Feeling like the adventure I've wanted for so long is ending, without any concrete plans to keep it on track. I can't turn those feelings off. But I can try to put a different face on them. I wrote in my last post that I was ready for the next step, whatever it was. And this is it. I've come to the conclusion that in order to move forward, I need to first move back. Trying to push myself into a new environment at this point would probably not be very healthy. I feel like this goes along with my horses out of the gate metaphor: going to Istanbul now could easily burn me out and send me back frustrated and fed up. In order to maintain my dream of living abroad, I need to take things a little more slowly and make decisions deliberately, not because I feel desperate and need someplace to go.
And I haven't failed. I did what I came to Prague to do. I got my TEFL certificate, a document which will allow me to travel basically anywhere in the world anytime I want. I made a life for myself in a foreign country, regardless of how long it lasted. I made wonderful friends who I look forward to visiting all over the world. I learned mountains about myself, and I grew in innumerable ways. I haven't failed.
As excited as I am to be back in Minneapolis and live a life I understand, I don't want it to last forever. Growth happens when you don't understand things, when you have to work for them to make sense. My going home now doesn't mean I won't ever leave again. I will. My time there will be a respite, a sabbatical before I add more stamps to my passport; it will give me a chance to be intentional about the next part of my life. I'll be able to explore different kinds of options and think outside the box. And when the time does come for me to leave again I'll have a better idea of the challenges I'll face moving abroad and will be better equipped to deal with them.
I'm not done wandering. The currents have pushed my ship back into port for now, but soon enough I'll be back on the water, the wind in my face, racing with arms outstretched towards the horizon.
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