Yesterday, August 28th, was a National Holiday in Macedonia, a new religious one in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary. At one time in Poibistip, when the mine was functioning at its full capacity, it was an important secular celebration for the mining community. There is an interesting pictorial history at the modest mining museum at the Cultural Center where there are photos of the miners in their miner dress-uniforms, with parades and other events conducted on this day. But sadly, the tradition has passed and it was a pretty quiet and hot summer day. I understand that there was an evening football game and an after-game dance at the football field (AKA soccer field) but I didn’t make it over there this year.
Unlike Americans, Macedonians don’t display their national flag on holidays. It’s a tradition that died out after the breakup of Yugoslavia. All over Probistip you can see the weather-worn flag holders on the light poles lining the main street and if you look closely you can see triple flagpoles hidden amongst the now 30 foot evergreen trees in what were at one time prime locations at the schools and public buildings. The senior citizens I have spoken with would like to rekindle the tradition but I’m not sure they know how to initiate the plan. So I have added it to my list of projects (along side of my original plan to get the Macedonian flag at school) and will seek out a few seniors to lead the way with me in the background.
So I took the first step yesterday and displayed my recently acquired Macedonian flag from my apartment window (see my pictures) and thus became the first and from what I can tell, the only resident in my neighborhood to do so on this holiday. Passers-by made comments upon seeing the dangling flag and maybe on September 8th – the next holiday- they’ll be a few more flags. I did check with my Macedonian friends beforehand, and they assured me it is totally acceptable to display the flag.
Correction: In my last blog I reported on the vendors selling melons and I inaccurately identified the round yellow melons as “boctons” but Alexandra informed me that the “boctons” are really the watermelons. She told me the name of the yellow melons but, surprise, surprise, I can’t remember it at this moment.
The door on my 35 year old refrigerator fell off last week. There were indications that this event might occur because it hasn’t sealed properly for the last few months and it was difficult to close. So my landlord, Dimchay, came over several days after my urgent call to check it out. While waiting an additional several days for the miester (repairman) that Dimchay was searching for to drop by, I propped the door closed using a kitchen chair. One can’t appreciate a functioning refrigerator door until one doesn’t have one. I dreaded having to get something from the fridge and was amazed as to how many times I needed something in the course of the day? And then have to put it back.
I didn’t think it could be repaired. The hinges were bent and worn and rusted out and the door was totally misaligned and it was missing washers and bushings. On Saturday morning Dimchay showed up with the refrigerator miester and after a cursory examination, they emptied it and hauled it away in the back of a Zastrava Coupe. I was left with the contents of the fridge scattered about the kitchen as they headed off to wherever, not really understanding exactly when they would return and wondering how long traditionally refrigerated food would survive on a 90 degree summer day.
They returned within the hour with the fridge with its newly welded hinges and replaced parts, ready for another 35 years of service. I really admire the way Macedonians fix things rather than replace them. They seem to be able to repair things that most of us in the States would discard believing they were not repairable. The newly hand-crafted hinges on my eyeglass frames, the perfect picture on my once useless TV, my now functioning Toshiba computer (without replacing the motherboard) give testament to their skill.
Although many of the public areas in Probistip are well-worn from time and weather, the town is kept meticulously clean by the public officials and private citizens. Every morning the women are outside sweeping up any discarded trash, fallen leaves, or whatever else doesn’t belong on the sidewalk or curb (It’s still quite common to witness people throwing chip bags, soda bottles, candy wrappers, etc. on the ground rather than in trash receptacles). The town street sweepers come by frequently with their wheelbarrows, branch-brooms, and six-inch wide shovels and the garbage trucks come by daily (or so it seems) to empty the dumpsters.
Individuals receiving public assistance are required to work (I believe four hours daily) for the town during the warmer months and can be seen weeding vegetation along the curbs and the sidewalks. Many of the public areas have been resurfaced, repainted, and repaired by various crews and so you can witness the pride that Probistipians have in their community.
Almost every tree in town is a fruit bearing tree. There are few maple, ash, oak or other decorative trees. In most yards now the trees are ripe with pears, various kinds of apples, plums, chestnuts, walnuts, kiwis, figs, pomegranates, and/or apricots. These will all be harvested as “winter food” and some will be turned into compotes and marmalades, while others will be stored in root cellars and barrels. Of course the grapes are almost ready for the mid-September harvest and the peppers for ivar are being harvested as I write.
The children return to school on September 1st but their class schedules are not finalized for several days/weeks. The teachers returned on August 18th and are required to put in two hours daily. During these sessions, the teachers get their rooms ready, attend meetings hosted by the director, get updated on the newest changes from the Ministry of Education, and find out how many classes they will have in the upcoming school year. Teachers need twenty classes a week to be full-time and due to the declining enrollment in Probistip, several teachers now find themselves for the first time, having to hustle for classes at other schools. 140 desktop computers are waiting to be installed in the classrooms but internet connections are not yet available due to its cost to the school.
The custodial staff ripped out the old laboratory sinks in Alexandra’s classroom (with a great deal of prodding from Alexandra and me), opening up much needed space and giving her many more classroom management options. For their efforts in prioritizing our request, I promised them a peach pie, which they settled for in lieu of their initial request for round trip tickets to visit America.
So I am off to the kitchen to fulfill my pledge, substituting a Lou’s Crumb Cake for the pie because the fruit vendor didn’t have peaches yesterday.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Downtime?
Teacher’s report back to school on Monday the 17th and the students will return in September. So I’ll find out real soon what is expected of a teacher during the pre-season.
The summer progressed exceptionally fast. As I try to figure out what I did for the last five weeks, I am having a difficult time accounting for extended periods of time. I traveled to Kavardaci for two days to assist Maggie with her Wackey Wednesday activity. I spent three days on buses to and from Skopje when I had my dead computer brought back to life. I spent four days in Dojran making sure my colleague Phil survived his last week there before he transfers to Bitola where he will actually have something to do. I spent some days in Skopje, picking up supplies and visiting Najstar (The Oldest) Michael and conducting business at the Peace Corps Headquarters. I’m not sure if my In-Service Training and Habitat For Humanity days in Veles fit into this time period, but let’s just say they do as it will help me account for some of the time I am trying to account for.
The rest of my time has been spent in Probistip. While my days start at 6AM and end between 10 and 11, Probistipians seem to begin their outdoor day at 5PM and end at it at about 1AM. Their need to get a good night’s rest, having gone to bed at 2AM, getting up at 9 or 10, eating breakfast then, with a large lunch at 3 or 4, followed by a nap until 5 or 6 with dinner at 8 or 9, somewhat limits my daily contact with my neighbors. Macedonians are a very industrious people and are always busy. It’s just that I don’t see many of them in my neighborhood during the hot weather because of my North American circadian cycle.
I have spent a great deal of time researching and preparing materials and Power Point Presentations for various officials to be presented when the new school year begins and the summer funk has faded. The internet and my Epson printer/scanner/copier have been indispensable in helping me document the information that I will present.
For the English classes, Alexandra and I have created award certificates which we’ll present to last year’s deserving students to hopefully motivate this year’s students; we’ve established an account with ThinkQuest which will enable students to create websites on the school’s computers while working with students from America and around the world; we’ve planned a seminar for the other English teachers in Probistip, during which we can share some successful methods that we tried last year; and we’ve established a state of the art English classroom with scavenged materials and donations.
I am working on a compilation of games and activities for Physical Education classes and translating them into Macedonian for the teachers in grades 1-4, who must teach PE to their classes, and for the PE staff at the school who must follow a curriculum dating back to the Yugoslavian days (read mostly football). (N. B. Whenever I say I am translating something into Macedonian, I mean I translate it, take it to my tutor Jasmina, and we work on re-translating it into something a Macedonian can understand. After I retype it, she rechecks it once more for spelling and typos. It’s a tedious process but I am seeing improvements each month. Hopefully at the end of two years, I will have a resource that can be distributed to schools throughout Macedonia.)
On the last day of the school year Alexandra and I met with the Director and she was very open to our suggestions regarding establishing a Student Council; an after-school detention procedure to hold students accountable for their in-school behavior; an emergency evacuation procedure that would require more than the one current exit for the entire school; a infusion of "patriotic behaviors" that would entail having at least one Macedonian flag displayed at the school and singing the National Anthem on Monday mornings. I’ve put together all the materials, so implementing these ideas won’t require much work.
Four girls from Probistip were selected to attend a Peace Corps sponsored camp this summer called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) and I promised them I would help them establish a GLOW Club at the High School in the fall. Jasmina has agreed to be a mentor, and I’ve gathered materials for this project.
I put together a Power Point Presentation for parents and teachers (in Macedonian, mind you) which addresses the question of “Are Our Children Eating Well?.” The answer to this question is “NO,NO, NO!” The children’s breakfast diets are atrocious here and the presentation just raises questions and an awareness of the problem.
I am planning on an informal meeting with the new mayor to offer my services to improve the English language versions of the Probistip website and work with any of the businesses in town that produce brochures with English. I would volunteer to work with whoever does their translating to make the material more understandable to any English reader. Many of the travel brochures, websites, and town documents that I have read in Macedonia need a a lot of polishing. I also prepared some materials to share with the mayor and his staff that would educate them about how a small town government works in my home town in Massachusetts. It would open up the opportunity for me to learn about how things are organized here in Probistip.
Other projects that are in the planning stages include a Women’s Health Fair; a unit on Health and Human Reproduction (HIV-Aides Awareness) for the high school students; an Ultimate Frisbee League; an after-school jump rope team; a horse-shoe pitching league for the pensioners; a Knock-Hockey production line; a muffin distributorship; a plant that makes and distributes ice; a pie, cookie, donut and crumb cake addition to the limited selection in at least one of the bakeries in Probistip; an English language conversation group at the Culture Center for residents who want an opportunity to practice their English; a Skype-buddies group between students at my favorite school in America (Blanchard Memorial) and students here in Probistip, so the they can learn about each other and practice their English speaking skills.
Exactly how many of these activities will ever come to fruition remains to be seen. It will be challenging, yet fun trying to implement them. Many of the ideas are new here and require changes in attitude. Education and a solid marketing strategy are essential. So I am always on the lookout for the 20%’s like Alexandra and Jasmina who are open to new ideas, are willing to think outside a somewhat small box , and are willing to take part in implementing some of the changes. Onward!
The summer progressed exceptionally fast. As I try to figure out what I did for the last five weeks, I am having a difficult time accounting for extended periods of time. I traveled to Kavardaci for two days to assist Maggie with her Wackey Wednesday activity. I spent three days on buses to and from Skopje when I had my dead computer brought back to life. I spent four days in Dojran making sure my colleague Phil survived his last week there before he transfers to Bitola where he will actually have something to do. I spent some days in Skopje, picking up supplies and visiting Najstar (The Oldest) Michael and conducting business at the Peace Corps Headquarters. I’m not sure if my In-Service Training and Habitat For Humanity days in Veles fit into this time period, but let’s just say they do as it will help me account for some of the time I am trying to account for.
The rest of my time has been spent in Probistip. While my days start at 6AM and end between 10 and 11, Probistipians seem to begin their outdoor day at 5PM and end at it at about 1AM. Their need to get a good night’s rest, having gone to bed at 2AM, getting up at 9 or 10, eating breakfast then, with a large lunch at 3 or 4, followed by a nap until 5 or 6 with dinner at 8 or 9, somewhat limits my daily contact with my neighbors. Macedonians are a very industrious people and are always busy. It’s just that I don’t see many of them in my neighborhood during the hot weather because of my North American circadian cycle.
I have spent a great deal of time researching and preparing materials and Power Point Presentations for various officials to be presented when the new school year begins and the summer funk has faded. The internet and my Epson printer/scanner/copier have been indispensable in helping me document the information that I will present.
For the English classes, Alexandra and I have created award certificates which we’ll present to last year’s deserving students to hopefully motivate this year’s students; we’ve established an account with ThinkQuest which will enable students to create websites on the school’s computers while working with students from America and around the world; we’ve planned a seminar for the other English teachers in Probistip, during which we can share some successful methods that we tried last year; and we’ve established a state of the art English classroom with scavenged materials and donations.
I am working on a compilation of games and activities for Physical Education classes and translating them into Macedonian for the teachers in grades 1-4, who must teach PE to their classes, and for the PE staff at the school who must follow a curriculum dating back to the Yugoslavian days (read mostly football). (N. B. Whenever I say I am translating something into Macedonian, I mean I translate it, take it to my tutor Jasmina, and we work on re-translating it into something a Macedonian can understand. After I retype it, she rechecks it once more for spelling and typos. It’s a tedious process but I am seeing improvements each month. Hopefully at the end of two years, I will have a resource that can be distributed to schools throughout Macedonia.)
On the last day of the school year Alexandra and I met with the Director and she was very open to our suggestions regarding establishing a Student Council; an after-school detention procedure to hold students accountable for their in-school behavior; an emergency evacuation procedure that would require more than the one current exit for the entire school; a infusion of "patriotic behaviors" that would entail having at least one Macedonian flag displayed at the school and singing the National Anthem on Monday mornings. I’ve put together all the materials, so implementing these ideas won’t require much work.
Four girls from Probistip were selected to attend a Peace Corps sponsored camp this summer called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) and I promised them I would help them establish a GLOW Club at the High School in the fall. Jasmina has agreed to be a mentor, and I’ve gathered materials for this project.
I put together a Power Point Presentation for parents and teachers (in Macedonian, mind you) which addresses the question of “Are Our Children Eating Well?.” The answer to this question is “NO,NO, NO!” The children’s breakfast diets are atrocious here and the presentation just raises questions and an awareness of the problem.
I am planning on an informal meeting with the new mayor to offer my services to improve the English language versions of the Probistip website and work with any of the businesses in town that produce brochures with English. I would volunteer to work with whoever does their translating to make the material more understandable to any English reader. Many of the travel brochures, websites, and town documents that I have read in Macedonia need a a lot of polishing. I also prepared some materials to share with the mayor and his staff that would educate them about how a small town government works in my home town in Massachusetts. It would open up the opportunity for me to learn about how things are organized here in Probistip.
Other projects that are in the planning stages include a Women’s Health Fair; a unit on Health and Human Reproduction (HIV-Aides Awareness) for the high school students; an Ultimate Frisbee League; an after-school jump rope team; a horse-shoe pitching league for the pensioners; a Knock-Hockey production line; a muffin distributorship; a plant that makes and distributes ice; a pie, cookie, donut and crumb cake addition to the limited selection in at least one of the bakeries in Probistip; an English language conversation group at the Culture Center for residents who want an opportunity to practice their English; a Skype-buddies group between students at my favorite school in America (Blanchard Memorial) and students here in Probistip, so the they can learn about each other and practice their English speaking skills.
Exactly how many of these activities will ever come to fruition remains to be seen. It will be challenging, yet fun trying to implement them. Many of the ideas are new here and require changes in attitude. Education and a solid marketing strategy are essential. So I am always on the lookout for the 20%’s like Alexandra and Jasmina who are open to new ideas, are willing to think outside a somewhat small box , and are willing to take part in implementing some of the changes. Onward!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Mid-Summer, Macedonia
Now that I have my computer back, things have returned to normal. Without my computer I had to actually read a book and watch B-movies from the 70’s and 80’s. I never knew there were so many bad movies out there. I did get a lot of language studying in and I organized some of the stuff I had been putting off. I put everything in the kitchen in alphabetical order. For example, when you open the utensil drawer, you will notice from left to right, forks, knifes, and then spoons. The dishes and glasses are arranged – coffee cups, dinner plates, juice glasses, large bowls, sandwich plates, saucers, soup bowls, tall glasses, and tea cups. I could have arranged them - bowls, large; bowls, soup; cups, coffee; cups, tea; glasses, juice; glasses, tall; plates, dinner; and plates, sandwich – but I think that I made the right decision by employing the former technique. I would love to hear others' feedback on this issue. Anyway having my computer back has rescued me from having to make such frivolous, yet rewarding decisions.
The weather in this part of the country hits the mid-90’s on some days but there is little humidity so I am quite comfortable. Laundry hung on the line will actually dry completely in two hours. There always seems to be a breeze, so my stan (apartment), equipped with a Peace Corps issued fan, remains tolerable for me. The traditional Macedonian, however, believes that a breeze (promaja) will cause one to become sick with a headache, shoulder problem or worse. Accordingly, few families have fans and few of the apartment dwellers open their windows. If you ever come to Probitsip, you can identify my apartment from the street, because it is the only one in the neighborhood with all the windows open. One of my students mentioned that the only time his mother opens the windows is when she is cleaning.
This fear of a breeze (promaja) also makes bus travel somewhat uncomfortable because regardless of the temperature, the windows on the bus that can be opened, will not be opened. In many cases the buses lack air-conditioning. The high outdoor temperatures combined with the body temperatures of the passengers along with the perfumes, deodorants, food smells and body odors make bus travel a truly sensory experience. I have traveled on several buses this summer that were air-conditioned. The driver would have to turn it off when traveling uphill but the ride was pleasantly and unexpectedly comfortable.
During these summer months it’s kind of weird to go outside and not see many people until five or six in the evening. Those residents who don’t work seem to sleep in, especially the teenagers, until after 12PM. Then it’s "too hot" to be outside and lunch is at 3’ish after which a nap is in order because of the big mid-day meal and heat of the afternoon. Around 5’ish the residents are out on the streets and this goes on until after midnight. I have yet to adjust to this schedule and am usually in bed by 11PM.
A couple of weeks ago I was at the Wednesday market walking amongst the crowd and surveying the stalls for my week’s supply of fresh produce. Suddenly a microphone was thrust in front of my face by a reporter for the local TV station. Accompanying her was a cameraman and I then I realized I was a participant in a man-on-the- street interview. The only problem was that I could only understand 7 out of the 10 words of the question I was being asked. So I gave my usual, “I am from America and I am learning Macedonian. I know a little of your language.” This comment always encourages a Macedonian to speak faster and in longer sentences and I find myself guessing about what they are talking about, not understanding 30-50% of the words. So when I was asked the question of the day, I heard the words for weather, sun, rain, hot, and like but really didn’t know what she was asking. So hoping I was in the ballpark, I answered, “I like the weather when it’s sunny and hot but I also like the rain.” She gave me a quizzical look, thanked me and proceeded on to find another interviewee. I figured the reporter could get a better response from any other living person in Probistip. The next day Jasmina, my tutor and friend, casually informed me that, “Oh, we saw you on TV last night. You spoke very well!” Go figure.
Melons are in season right now and almost everywhere I go I will notice “melon vendors” plying their fruits. They have a melon here that looks somewhat like a cantaloupe and it’s called a “bocton”(pronounced boston). So for the last week or so, at the market and on the street corners, I hear the name of the capital city of Massachusetts, my home state, being proclaimed throughout the Republic “bocton, bocton, imam bocton tuka”(get your melons here).
So now that school is out until September (teachers report back on the 18th of August), what goes on in the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer in Macedonia? Tune in next time and I’ll fill you in. I’ve got a lot to do right now. (FYI: those of you who get this posting directly as e-mail may be missing my wonderful captioned photos that you can access at Picasa from my blog)
The weather in this part of the country hits the mid-90’s on some days but there is little humidity so I am quite comfortable. Laundry hung on the line will actually dry completely in two hours. There always seems to be a breeze, so my stan (apartment), equipped with a Peace Corps issued fan, remains tolerable for me. The traditional Macedonian, however, believes that a breeze (promaja) will cause one to become sick with a headache, shoulder problem or worse. Accordingly, few families have fans and few of the apartment dwellers open their windows. If you ever come to Probitsip, you can identify my apartment from the street, because it is the only one in the neighborhood with all the windows open. One of my students mentioned that the only time his mother opens the windows is when she is cleaning.
This fear of a breeze (promaja) also makes bus travel somewhat uncomfortable because regardless of the temperature, the windows on the bus that can be opened, will not be opened. In many cases the buses lack air-conditioning. The high outdoor temperatures combined with the body temperatures of the passengers along with the perfumes, deodorants, food smells and body odors make bus travel a truly sensory experience. I have traveled on several buses this summer that were air-conditioned. The driver would have to turn it off when traveling uphill but the ride was pleasantly and unexpectedly comfortable.
During these summer months it’s kind of weird to go outside and not see many people until five or six in the evening. Those residents who don’t work seem to sleep in, especially the teenagers, until after 12PM. Then it’s "too hot" to be outside and lunch is at 3’ish after which a nap is in order because of the big mid-day meal and heat of the afternoon. Around 5’ish the residents are out on the streets and this goes on until after midnight. I have yet to adjust to this schedule and am usually in bed by 11PM.
A couple of weeks ago I was at the Wednesday market walking amongst the crowd and surveying the stalls for my week’s supply of fresh produce. Suddenly a microphone was thrust in front of my face by a reporter for the local TV station. Accompanying her was a cameraman and I then I realized I was a participant in a man-on-the- street interview. The only problem was that I could only understand 7 out of the 10 words of the question I was being asked. So I gave my usual, “I am from America and I am learning Macedonian. I know a little of your language.” This comment always encourages a Macedonian to speak faster and in longer sentences and I find myself guessing about what they are talking about, not understanding 30-50% of the words. So when I was asked the question of the day, I heard the words for weather, sun, rain, hot, and like but really didn’t know what she was asking. So hoping I was in the ballpark, I answered, “I like the weather when it’s sunny and hot but I also like the rain.” She gave me a quizzical look, thanked me and proceeded on to find another interviewee. I figured the reporter could get a better response from any other living person in Probistip. The next day Jasmina, my tutor and friend, casually informed me that, “Oh, we saw you on TV last night. You spoke very well!” Go figure.
Melons are in season right now and almost everywhere I go I will notice “melon vendors” plying their fruits. They have a melon here that looks somewhat like a cantaloupe and it’s called a “bocton”(pronounced boston). So for the last week or so, at the market and on the street corners, I hear the name of the capital city of Massachusetts, my home state, being proclaimed throughout the Republic “bocton, bocton, imam bocton tuka”(get your melons here).
So now that school is out until September (teachers report back on the 18th of August), what goes on in the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer in Macedonia? Tune in next time and I’ll fill you in. I’ve got a lot to do right now. (FYI: those of you who get this posting directly as e-mail may be missing my wonderful captioned photos that you can access at Picasa from my blog)
Monday, July 27, 2009
Toshiba Satellite, Toshiba Satellite, Oh Toshiba Satellite!
You have betrayed me. You have proven yourself to be unreliable. My trust in you no longer exists. You have absconded with a portion of my meager wealth. You have forced me to undertake tedious journeys under adverse conditions. You have mocked my decision to purchase you in America. I can no longer sing praises of your glory for your glory has vanished from my world. I look at you with contempt.
What came upon you when you decided not to power up only 12 days after your one-year warranty expired? I treated you like a brother (my real-life brothers might think that that might be a problem) affording you with a place of prominence in my castle (you know the saying – “my home is my castle”). I protected you from electrical surges. Neither food nor drink could approach you. You never lost a challenge to gravity. You were my most prized possession, more so than my wife and sons (who probably don’t consider themselves possessions anyway).
Your Maker - the Toshiba Corporation- refused me the opportunity to bring you back to life under their Goodwill Program that would have enabled you to have been repaired at no cost, reasoning it was so close to the expiration of the one-year American warranty. I came to learn that laptops purchased in Europe have a two- year warranty and three years if purchased in Japan (or is it Germany?). You have rubbed salt in my wound and mocked my fellow consumers in the “home of the free and land of the brave” (or is it “the home of the brave and the land of the free?”). Why only one-half of a European warranty for Americans?
Your doctor gave me a choice to get you back to where you once were. I could pay 300 Euros for a new motherboard or 140 Euros to get the burned out components replaced (how did you manage to “burn out?”). I chose the latter since that was only ½ of my monthly subsistence allowance and I would be able to eat at least every other day. A somewhat easy decision.
You forced me to undertake a six-hour perilous round trip on a bus with neither air-conditioning nor operational windows in 90 degree heat to the only repair facility in the entire country. Three times! You subjected me to waiting hours in a darkened bus station for the next bus departure to my hometown in Probistip. Three times!
So now that you have robbed me of both my treasure and my trust, and have stolen three days of my life, I find myself sitting once again before you, composing this dispatch. I do this not knowing when you will choose to betray me again.
Maybe someday I will no longer point to the heavens – as does an enthused baseball player after hitting a home run– when you respond to my request to power up. Maybe someday! Till then: Toshiba – Caveat Emptor!
(N.B. Knowing that I would be in Macedonia for 27 months, I purchased a Toshiba Satellite laptop computer, considerably more expensive than other comparable laptops, relying on what I was told regarding its reliability. My experience has proven to me that “It” is not reliable (13 months before a major problem). I also raise the question as to why the Toshiba Corporation has different warranty standards. Are they enabled by weak consumer protection laws in the USA to offer a minimal one-year warranty. Based on my experiences and if I were to be so asked, I would not recommend this brand of laptop to anyone considering purchasing a Toshiba brand laptop in the USA.)
What came upon you when you decided not to power up only 12 days after your one-year warranty expired? I treated you like a brother (my real-life brothers might think that that might be a problem) affording you with a place of prominence in my castle (you know the saying – “my home is my castle”). I protected you from electrical surges. Neither food nor drink could approach you. You never lost a challenge to gravity. You were my most prized possession, more so than my wife and sons (who probably don’t consider themselves possessions anyway).
Your Maker - the Toshiba Corporation- refused me the opportunity to bring you back to life under their Goodwill Program that would have enabled you to have been repaired at no cost, reasoning it was so close to the expiration of the one-year American warranty. I came to learn that laptops purchased in Europe have a two- year warranty and three years if purchased in Japan (or is it Germany?). You have rubbed salt in my wound and mocked my fellow consumers in the “home of the free and land of the brave” (or is it “the home of the brave and the land of the free?”). Why only one-half of a European warranty for Americans?
Your doctor gave me a choice to get you back to where you once were. I could pay 300 Euros for a new motherboard or 140 Euros to get the burned out components replaced (how did you manage to “burn out?”). I chose the latter since that was only ½ of my monthly subsistence allowance and I would be able to eat at least every other day. A somewhat easy decision.
You forced me to undertake a six-hour perilous round trip on a bus with neither air-conditioning nor operational windows in 90 degree heat to the only repair facility in the entire country. Three times! You subjected me to waiting hours in a darkened bus station for the next bus departure to my hometown in Probistip. Three times!
So now that you have robbed me of both my treasure and my trust, and have stolen three days of my life, I find myself sitting once again before you, composing this dispatch. I do this not knowing when you will choose to betray me again.
Maybe someday I will no longer point to the heavens – as does an enthused baseball player after hitting a home run– when you respond to my request to power up. Maybe someday! Till then: Toshiba – Caveat Emptor!
(N.B. Knowing that I would be in Macedonia for 27 months, I purchased a Toshiba Satellite laptop computer, considerably more expensive than other comparable laptops, relying on what I was told regarding its reliability. My experience has proven to me that “It” is not reliable (13 months before a major problem). I also raise the question as to why the Toshiba Corporation has different warranty standards. Are they enabled by weak consumer protection laws in the USA to offer a minimal one-year warranty. Based on my experiences and if I were to be so asked, I would not recommend this brand of laptop to anyone considering purchasing a Toshiba brand laptop in the USA.)
Monday, July 6, 2009
"You're Under Arrest!"
It’s July 4th and Phil and I are in Skopje visiting “Naistar” (the Oldest) Michael. There are six Michaels in Peace Corps Macedonia – I am Postar (the Older) Michael. We are there to attend an afternoon picnic organized and sponsored by the American embassy and open to any American citizen that happens to be in Macedonia.
We had spent the morning shopping for stuff that we can’t find in our communities. I purchased a muffin tin and a Bundt pan so that I can continue my quest to introduce “new” foods to my Macedonian friends and neighbors. We had taken many photos of a musical group that was performing in the center and of other interesting things that caught our interest. We had taken off on our 20 minute trek back to Michael’s apartment (79 year old Michael wasn’t with us because he didn’t want miss his workout at the gym) and had three hours to get ready for the 4 o’clock picnic. It was a quiet Saturday and there were few pedestrians or shoppers about at this time on a summer day.
We were walking down the main boulevard and as has happened on numerous occasions before, noticed ahead that the traffic lights weren’t working at a major intersection and that a police officer was directing the flow. Nothing we haven’t experienced before. We got to the intersection, started to cross and stopped on the middle island, checking for oncoming traffic.
It is then that we saw in the distance, a motorcade approaching . Great timing we thought and got our cameras ready for when it passed by. Who was it – the mayor, a foreign dignitary, a rock star? We had no idea but got are cameras ready and took a few pictures in the less than 5 seconds it took for the motorcade to pass. We put away our cameras wondering who it was that was totally obscured from our view behind the blacked-out windows on the vehicles. We proceeded on our way.
Our way was less than ten steps before we heard a whistle and the police officer who was directing traffic and next to whom we were standing when the motorcade passed, heading towards us. He motioned for us to stop and asked us in broken, yet understandable English, of what we were taking pictures (a rhetorical question perhaps because he already knew the answer). “The motorcade”, we answered. He asked us for identification (we gave him our Peace Corp ID’s) and he called for backup. Within minutes there were eight more police officers on the scene – four plain clothes and four uniformed in four separate squad cars. They asked for our passports which Michael brought, after our call, from his apartment. They confiscated our cameras and refused to talk on the phone to our Peace Corps Security Officer who speaks perfect Macedonian considering that he is a Macedonian.
So Phil and I were standing around, trying to guess what we did that merited such an overwhelming response from these law enforcement officials. We ruled out jaywalking. Then the Paddy Wagon (politically incorrect term nowadays but I don’t know what else to call it) arrived and Phil and I were ushered into it. We were told we were “under arrest for photographing the President’s motorcade" a seemingly serious offense in this developing nation. (The Paddy Wagon appeared to be brand new, so Phil and I believe that we were the first prisoners to utilize it, somewhat of an accomplishment in and of itself).
Earlier on I had called the Peace Corps Duty Officer and told her of our predicament. She in turn called our Safety and Security Officer, and he in turn called his contacts at the American Embassy. Within the hour a Peace Corp staff member and a representative from the Embassy arrived and sat with us in the waiting room while the police inspectors examined our photos and did whatever it took them two hours to do.
By four o’clock (the picnic starting time), after signing statements that we didn’t need a lawyer now, that we wouldn’t need a lawyer later, that we needed no medical care, and that we were treated well, and after signing a couple of other innocuous papers, we were given back our cameras and credentials and on our way back to the apartment, already late for our sole reason for being in Skopje. All this was accomplished with the Embassy representative translating and guiding us through the process.
In the end, the police inspectors and the police commander apologized for what had happened and for the use of the term “arrest” when it should have been “detained”. His officers speak very little English. He had to follow pre-established procedures and we got the impression that he felt it was foolish to forbid taking pictures of a motorcade, regardless of who is in it.
At no time during this adventure were Phil nor I concerned about what was happening. We knew the Peace Corps and the Embassy had our back and they kept in constant contact with us during the whole time. The “arresting” officers were low key, yet professional. They didn’t take our phones; they didn’t search our bags, and they didn’t handcuff us on the trip to the stationhouse. In the end, they asked us to please erase the pictures of the motorcade, trusting us without supervising us, to do so.
One of the main requests of the Macedonian Minister of Education is that we assist teachers in improving the critical thinking skills of today’s students. After witnessing us openly take photos of the motorcade and realizing that we were Americans ignorant of the law, the traffic officer had two choices. He could have informed that one can’t photograph the President’s motorcade, asked us to comply with the law in the future, and asked us to delete the photos. Or he could have called in reinforcements “according to procedure.” Option 1 would have been the proper call in this situation if the officer had the option. But“according to procedure” is how many things are governed here in Macedonia, often in cases where common sense would dictate a more sensible approach.
So Phil and I, serving together in Macedonia, have now broken the law, been detained by a squad of police officers and have ridden together in a Paddy Wagon - boasts few if any Peace Corps Volunteers can make. The brotherhood has been strengthened and a solid reminiscence has been engraved in our story telling repertoire.
I am unable to support this episode with any photographs, for aforementioned reasons.
We had spent the morning shopping for stuff that we can’t find in our communities. I purchased a muffin tin and a Bundt pan so that I can continue my quest to introduce “new” foods to my Macedonian friends and neighbors. We had taken many photos of a musical group that was performing in the center and of other interesting things that caught our interest. We had taken off on our 20 minute trek back to Michael’s apartment (79 year old Michael wasn’t with us because he didn’t want miss his workout at the gym) and had three hours to get ready for the 4 o’clock picnic. It was a quiet Saturday and there were few pedestrians or shoppers about at this time on a summer day.
We were walking down the main boulevard and as has happened on numerous occasions before, noticed ahead that the traffic lights weren’t working at a major intersection and that a police officer was directing the flow. Nothing we haven’t experienced before. We got to the intersection, started to cross and stopped on the middle island, checking for oncoming traffic.
It is then that we saw in the distance, a motorcade approaching . Great timing we thought and got our cameras ready for when it passed by. Who was it – the mayor, a foreign dignitary, a rock star? We had no idea but got are cameras ready and took a few pictures in the less than 5 seconds it took for the motorcade to pass. We put away our cameras wondering who it was that was totally obscured from our view behind the blacked-out windows on the vehicles. We proceeded on our way.
Our way was less than ten steps before we heard a whistle and the police officer who was directing traffic and next to whom we were standing when the motorcade passed, heading towards us. He motioned for us to stop and asked us in broken, yet understandable English, of what we were taking pictures (a rhetorical question perhaps because he already knew the answer). “The motorcade”, we answered. He asked us for identification (we gave him our Peace Corp ID’s) and he called for backup. Within minutes there were eight more police officers on the scene – four plain clothes and four uniformed in four separate squad cars. They asked for our passports which Michael brought, after our call, from his apartment. They confiscated our cameras and refused to talk on the phone to our Peace Corps Security Officer who speaks perfect Macedonian considering that he is a Macedonian.
So Phil and I were standing around, trying to guess what we did that merited such an overwhelming response from these law enforcement officials. We ruled out jaywalking. Then the Paddy Wagon (politically incorrect term nowadays but I don’t know what else to call it) arrived and Phil and I were ushered into it. We were told we were “under arrest for photographing the President’s motorcade" a seemingly serious offense in this developing nation. (The Paddy Wagon appeared to be brand new, so Phil and I believe that we were the first prisoners to utilize it, somewhat of an accomplishment in and of itself).
Earlier on I had called the Peace Corps Duty Officer and told her of our predicament. She in turn called our Safety and Security Officer, and he in turn called his contacts at the American Embassy. Within the hour a Peace Corp staff member and a representative from the Embassy arrived and sat with us in the waiting room while the police inspectors examined our photos and did whatever it took them two hours to do.
By four o’clock (the picnic starting time), after signing statements that we didn’t need a lawyer now, that we wouldn’t need a lawyer later, that we needed no medical care, and that we were treated well, and after signing a couple of other innocuous papers, we were given back our cameras and credentials and on our way back to the apartment, already late for our sole reason for being in Skopje. All this was accomplished with the Embassy representative translating and guiding us through the process.
In the end, the police inspectors and the police commander apologized for what had happened and for the use of the term “arrest” when it should have been “detained”. His officers speak very little English. He had to follow pre-established procedures and we got the impression that he felt it was foolish to forbid taking pictures of a motorcade, regardless of who is in it.
At no time during this adventure were Phil nor I concerned about what was happening. We knew the Peace Corps and the Embassy had our back and they kept in constant contact with us during the whole time. The “arresting” officers were low key, yet professional. They didn’t take our phones; they didn’t search our bags, and they didn’t handcuff us on the trip to the stationhouse. In the end, they asked us to please erase the pictures of the motorcade, trusting us without supervising us, to do so.
One of the main requests of the Macedonian Minister of Education is that we assist teachers in improving the critical thinking skills of today’s students. After witnessing us openly take photos of the motorcade and realizing that we were Americans ignorant of the law, the traffic officer had two choices. He could have informed that one can’t photograph the President’s motorcade, asked us to comply with the law in the future, and asked us to delete the photos. Or he could have called in reinforcements “according to procedure.” Option 1 would have been the proper call in this situation if the officer had the option. But“according to procedure” is how many things are governed here in Macedonia, often in cases where common sense would dictate a more sensible approach.
So Phil and I, serving together in Macedonia, have now broken the law, been detained by a squad of police officers and have ridden together in a Paddy Wagon - boasts few if any Peace Corps Volunteers can make. The brotherhood has been strengthened and a solid reminiscence has been engraved in our story telling repertoire.
I am unable to support this episode with any photographs, for aforementioned reasons.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
School's Out!
I learned a lot about the educational system here in Macedonia over the last seven months and I still have a great deal to learn. But I am not sure I will ever understand it. The students who went to “summer school” last week finished up and so it won’t be until September that we’ll have students to work with. That doesn’t mean the teachers won’t be seeing each other. Their attendance is required for a few hours each day until the 5th of July. I’m still not sure what is expected of the teachers during this time, now that the cumbersome grade reporting system has been completed. I understand they report back to school in August, weeks before the students return.
Most students in the fifth through eighth grades take 14 or 15 subjects each year, so documenting and accurately recording each student’s progress is a monumental task. But the teachers know the routine and get the job done in a timely manner. The students pick up their promotion certificates and final grades about two weeks after the last classes and exams. During this two week period while they are completing all the paperwork, the teachers receive calls from concerned parents asking the teacher to please consider giving their child a higher grade. There is also a formal appeals process that enables parents to actually challenge a teacher’s final grade. So grade inflation is a chronic problem.
Directors at the high school and primary schools dictate that every child will be promoted much to the dissatisfaction of the teachers. I’ve been told that not one student has had to repeat a grade in at least the last eleven years at the Nikola Karev Primary School. Classes are filled with students who are years behind their peers, somewhat neglected and lost and who present a great challenge to the teacher who must teach in a de facto multi-level classroom with no resources. Using a 7th grade English textbook with a student who has the knowledge base of a 3rd grader is the only course of action that the teacher has.
Other little quirky things (from my perspective) that I’ve observed include the fact that, by law, teachers are not allowed to collect money from the students. So when her class went on a field trip, Alexandra had to watch over the shoulder of a student who actually touched the money and counted it. Students must pay for the paper upon which the teachers prints their exams. The money collected, of course, by one of the students. Students who get a One (a Five is the highest grade) as their final grade must attend “summer school” which entails a five day/ten hour opportunity to make up for a school year’s worth of non-learning . A student who receives three Ones must repeat the school year (there are plenty of candidates who have these credentials) but as I mentioned above, no student maybe left back. So one of the student’s teachers is “asked” to inflate the One to a Two. To compound the issue, teachers receive no stipend for teaching “summer school” so any borderline students who could possibly benefit from an extra week of class, are upgraded to a Two, limiting the “remedial “class size.
The upbeat news is that today’s leadership in Macedonia is aware of many of the issues that I mentioned. Efforts are being made to change those aspects of an educational system that has been in place for decades. It will take some time to accomplish but the 20%’ers will see it through.
I did get to employ some of my wrestling skills that I used to use on my brothers when we were growing up on Long Island. I had to break up two different classroom fights during the last weeks of school. In both cases two boys were going at pretty well. They watch a lot of WWF wrestling here and the boys were head-butting, choke holding and attempting to throw chairs, ignoring the potential consequences of their actions. They wouldn’t comply with the Alexandra’s demand to stop. I reluctantly stepped in and employed my infamous Half-Nelson (that used to bring my brothers to tears) on one of the boys so that I could immobilize him momentarily and position myself between the combatants, thereby preventing any serious injuries. My technique worked and there were no tears or cries of pain or running to mommy like my three brothers did.
My standings as a martial arts expert rose considerably in the eyes of the students who witnessed the events. I received kudos and high fives and word of “Michael’s moves” spread amongst the school population. Ironically, Alexandra has a martial arts Black Belt but she let me handle the situation. As is the case in Probistip, the boys who were fighting were seen later in the day, once again good friends, hanging out together. Perhaps they were relieved that their altercation was broken up by the referee and there wasn’t a winner or a loser.
Most students in the fifth through eighth grades take 14 or 15 subjects each year, so documenting and accurately recording each student’s progress is a monumental task. But the teachers know the routine and get the job done in a timely manner. The students pick up their promotion certificates and final grades about two weeks after the last classes and exams. During this two week period while they are completing all the paperwork, the teachers receive calls from concerned parents asking the teacher to please consider giving their child a higher grade. There is also a formal appeals process that enables parents to actually challenge a teacher’s final grade. So grade inflation is a chronic problem.
Directors at the high school and primary schools dictate that every child will be promoted much to the dissatisfaction of the teachers. I’ve been told that not one student has had to repeat a grade in at least the last eleven years at the Nikola Karev Primary School. Classes are filled with students who are years behind their peers, somewhat neglected and lost and who present a great challenge to the teacher who must teach in a de facto multi-level classroom with no resources. Using a 7th grade English textbook with a student who has the knowledge base of a 3rd grader is the only course of action that the teacher has.
Other little quirky things (from my perspective) that I’ve observed include the fact that, by law, teachers are not allowed to collect money from the students. So when her class went on a field trip, Alexandra had to watch over the shoulder of a student who actually touched the money and counted it. Students must pay for the paper upon which the teachers prints their exams. The money collected, of course, by one of the students. Students who get a One (a Five is the highest grade) as their final grade must attend “summer school” which entails a five day/ten hour opportunity to make up for a school year’s worth of non-learning . A student who receives three Ones must repeat the school year (there are plenty of candidates who have these credentials) but as I mentioned above, no student maybe left back. So one of the student’s teachers is “asked” to inflate the One to a Two. To compound the issue, teachers receive no stipend for teaching “summer school” so any borderline students who could possibly benefit from an extra week of class, are upgraded to a Two, limiting the “remedial “class size.
The upbeat news is that today’s leadership in Macedonia is aware of many of the issues that I mentioned. Efforts are being made to change those aspects of an educational system that has been in place for decades. It will take some time to accomplish but the 20%’ers will see it through.
I did get to employ some of my wrestling skills that I used to use on my brothers when we were growing up on Long Island. I had to break up two different classroom fights during the last weeks of school. In both cases two boys were going at pretty well. They watch a lot of WWF wrestling here and the boys were head-butting, choke holding and attempting to throw chairs, ignoring the potential consequences of their actions. They wouldn’t comply with the Alexandra’s demand to stop. I reluctantly stepped in and employed my infamous Half-Nelson (that used to bring my brothers to tears) on one of the boys so that I could immobilize him momentarily and position myself between the combatants, thereby preventing any serious injuries. My technique worked and there were no tears or cries of pain or running to mommy like my three brothers did.
My standings as a martial arts expert rose considerably in the eyes of the students who witnessed the events. I received kudos and high fives and word of “Michael’s moves” spread amongst the school population. Ironically, Alexandra has a martial arts Black Belt but she let me handle the situation. As is the case in Probistip, the boys who were fighting were seen later in the day, once again good friends, hanging out together. Perhaps they were relieved that their altercation was broken up by the referee and there wasn’t a winner or a loser.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Some Things I’ve Come to Know
Not a day goes by here in this wonderful place where I don’t learn something new or get a different perspective on living in this world. I always thought that roosters crowed only at sunrise, because in the stories I read as a child, that’s what they did. But the fact is they crow all day. And so the crowing roosters, baying donkeys, squealing pigs, singing birds, barking dogs, and yowling cats create an auditory environment that at times is enchanting and at times annoying.
Now as you know, if you’ve read my previous blogs, I live near the center of the town in the apartment complex built for the miners’ families. So on warm days, the women (and some men) on my street sit outside at hastily built tables of scrap wood and talk about whatever women talk about. I am now a familiar face with a wife, and so upon my return from school, I walk a gauntlet of smiles and “Dobar Dens” (Good Day) from the groups sitting in front of each apartment. It’s nice to know I’ve been accepted into the neighborhood.
The men in my neighborhood have been busy the last few weekends cutting, splitting, and stacking recently delivered wood for next winter’s heating and cooking. I still marvel at the fact that, for the most part, each apartment in each building has its own woodpile. But wood is less expensive than electricity, so I can understand the rationale behind it. Luckily my apartment has been retrofitted with an electric heater and the Peace Corps picks up the tab for electricity.
The bread here is crusty and chewy on the day you buy it. But the next day it is somewhat dried out and tasteless (the result of having no preservatives). So after six months of enduring day old bread, I figured out that maybe if I toasted it, it would be more enjoyable. Not having the luxury of a toaster or an oven broiler, I discovered that I could put a slice of day old bread on a stovetop-heated pan without oil and it would manufacture a pretty good piece of hot toast, so good in fact that I plan on throwing away our toaster when I return to the States.
I take lots of pictures. Occasionally I will get a good picture of a student and have it developed at the local photo shop for equivalent of about twenty cents. When I present it to the student, they are so excited and so appreciative. The smiles are immeasurable and the rest of the class seems to share in the joy of the recipient. Twenty cents can buy much, much more than a pack of gum here in Macedonia.
Soda is the drink of choice among the children. Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Fanta and many locally produced sugar laden beverages take up more shelf space in the shops than any other product. Sadly, many of them advertise themselves as “energy drinks”. Diet sodas are almost non-existent in Probistip. Needless to say the prevalence of sugar drinks has contributed to the need for more dental care than is available to many of the students. I recently read or viewed somewhere, that one measure to help reduce the enamel eating effect of soft drinks is to sip the beverage through a straw. This, as I understood it, would help eliminate the “bathing effect” on the teeth that drinking from a glass or bottle creates. Mad sense to me. So yesterday for the first time in the 8 months I’ve been in-country, I thought I’d try a locally produced cold soft drink. I purchased a “Cola”, bottled in Macedonia. Much to my surprise, when I opened the bottle, there was a straw in the bottle from which to dentally-healthfully (you know what I mean)enjoy the “energy drink”. Cutting edge – straw IN the bottle!
Cabbage is a staple, much like bread. I will see people purchase 10 cabbages and twenty onions at the Wednesday market (pazaar). All sorts of fabulous salads and dishes can be made with cabbage and onions but I always wondered how a person could use so many cabbages and onions in a week. One cabbage and one onion will last me a week. As it turns out, a person buying that many cabbages and onions is probably picking up them up for family, friends and neighbors. Question answered. Next question: How much do 10 Macedonian cabbages(not those whimpy cabbages they sell in American supermarkets) weigh? Answer: Too much.
Strawberries and cherries are in the market now. They are picked when they are ripe and at the market the same, or no later than, the next day. Deeelicious! Tragically, In their 3000+ years of existence, Macedonians have never tasted a strawberry or a cherry pie (USA style). Strawberries with rhubarb – nope!
I tried to find a pair of sport sandals herein Probistip but the only ones I could find were either “not my style” or were the flip-flop kind that I always struggle to keep on. Leather shoes are very expensive in Macedonia, so most available footwear is made of synthetic materials. So through the convenience of on-line shopping I ordered a pair of Made-in-China sport sandals from the All-American company in Freeport, Maine – LL Bean. As usual, they were great and despite the $35 shipping fee and the $4 pickup fee at the post office (Powsta), which were fees beyond the control of the Bean Corporation, I am very pleased with my purchase. Besides owning one of the most expensive bathrobes in Macedonia, I now own the nicest pair of leather sport sandals in Probistip.
The new U.S. Embassy is now open in Skopje. It’s a fortress-looking structure, located in a prime location in the capital. It’s quite ostentatious (my personal opinion). Previously , the various Embassy offices were scattered about the city. Now everyone on the staff is located in one place which improves the security for everyone involved. Sadly, with the world situation the way it is, you can’t just drop into the Embassy. You need to make an appointment at least three days in advance to gain entrance.
The Embassy staff is very supportive of PCV’s. They invite us to many of the holiday events that happen at the Embassy, let us have access to the swimming pool , and provide us with access to the Skopje Scoop- a newsletter that keeps the Embassy community attuned to what’s happening in town. The only catch is that unless you’re a PCV serving in the capital or in a nearby municipality, you really can’t take advantage of their hospitality.
I remember when Yugo’s came to America when Yugoslavia introduced them to the American car market. They weren’t a big hit and became somewhat of a joke because of their poor quality construction. Well here in Probistip those babies are still on the road. Those four cylinder, diesel engined marvels , along with their sister Zastava’s, are workhorses. They all have tow bars to which are attached trailers that transport everything from mattresses and household goods to cement and fieldstones. These vehicles have been on the road for over forty years. So much for poor quality, America!
Now as you know, if you’ve read my previous blogs, I live near the center of the town in the apartment complex built for the miners’ families. So on warm days, the women (and some men) on my street sit outside at hastily built tables of scrap wood and talk about whatever women talk about. I am now a familiar face with a wife, and so upon my return from school, I walk a gauntlet of smiles and “Dobar Dens” (Good Day) from the groups sitting in front of each apartment. It’s nice to know I’ve been accepted into the neighborhood.
The men in my neighborhood have been busy the last few weekends cutting, splitting, and stacking recently delivered wood for next winter’s heating and cooking. I still marvel at the fact that, for the most part, each apartment in each building has its own woodpile. But wood is less expensive than electricity, so I can understand the rationale behind it. Luckily my apartment has been retrofitted with an electric heater and the Peace Corps picks up the tab for electricity.
The bread here is crusty and chewy on the day you buy it. But the next day it is somewhat dried out and tasteless (the result of having no preservatives). So after six months of enduring day old bread, I figured out that maybe if I toasted it, it would be more enjoyable. Not having the luxury of a toaster or an oven broiler, I discovered that I could put a slice of day old bread on a stovetop-heated pan without oil and it would manufacture a pretty good piece of hot toast, so good in fact that I plan on throwing away our toaster when I return to the States.
I take lots of pictures. Occasionally I will get a good picture of a student and have it developed at the local photo shop for equivalent of about twenty cents. When I present it to the student, they are so excited and so appreciative. The smiles are immeasurable and the rest of the class seems to share in the joy of the recipient. Twenty cents can buy much, much more than a pack of gum here in Macedonia.
Soda is the drink of choice among the children. Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Fanta and many locally produced sugar laden beverages take up more shelf space in the shops than any other product. Sadly, many of them advertise themselves as “energy drinks”. Diet sodas are almost non-existent in Probistip. Needless to say the prevalence of sugar drinks has contributed to the need for more dental care than is available to many of the students. I recently read or viewed somewhere, that one measure to help reduce the enamel eating effect of soft drinks is to sip the beverage through a straw. This, as I understood it, would help eliminate the “bathing effect” on the teeth that drinking from a glass or bottle creates. Mad sense to me. So yesterday for the first time in the 8 months I’ve been in-country, I thought I’d try a locally produced cold soft drink. I purchased a “Cola”, bottled in Macedonia. Much to my surprise, when I opened the bottle, there was a straw in the bottle from which to dentally-healthfully (you know what I mean)enjoy the “energy drink”. Cutting edge – straw IN the bottle!
Cabbage is a staple, much like bread. I will see people purchase 10 cabbages and twenty onions at the Wednesday market (pazaar). All sorts of fabulous salads and dishes can be made with cabbage and onions but I always wondered how a person could use so many cabbages and onions in a week. One cabbage and one onion will last me a week. As it turns out, a person buying that many cabbages and onions is probably picking up them up for family, friends and neighbors. Question answered. Next question: How much do 10 Macedonian cabbages(not those whimpy cabbages they sell in American supermarkets) weigh? Answer: Too much.
Strawberries and cherries are in the market now. They are picked when they are ripe and at the market the same, or no later than, the next day. Deeelicious! Tragically, In their 3000+ years of existence, Macedonians have never tasted a strawberry or a cherry pie (USA style). Strawberries with rhubarb – nope!
I tried to find a pair of sport sandals herein Probistip but the only ones I could find were either “not my style” or were the flip-flop kind that I always struggle to keep on. Leather shoes are very expensive in Macedonia, so most available footwear is made of synthetic materials. So through the convenience of on-line shopping I ordered a pair of Made-in-China sport sandals from the All-American company in Freeport, Maine – LL Bean. As usual, they were great and despite the $35 shipping fee and the $4 pickup fee at the post office (Powsta), which were fees beyond the control of the Bean Corporation, I am very pleased with my purchase. Besides owning one of the most expensive bathrobes in Macedonia, I now own the nicest pair of leather sport sandals in Probistip.
The new U.S. Embassy is now open in Skopje. It’s a fortress-looking structure, located in a prime location in the capital. It’s quite ostentatious (my personal opinion). Previously , the various Embassy offices were scattered about the city. Now everyone on the staff is located in one place which improves the security for everyone involved. Sadly, with the world situation the way it is, you can’t just drop into the Embassy. You need to make an appointment at least three days in advance to gain entrance.
The Embassy staff is very supportive of PCV’s. They invite us to many of the holiday events that happen at the Embassy, let us have access to the swimming pool , and provide us with access to the Skopje Scoop- a newsletter that keeps the Embassy community attuned to what’s happening in town. The only catch is that unless you’re a PCV serving in the capital or in a nearby municipality, you really can’t take advantage of their hospitality.
I remember when Yugo’s came to America when Yugoslavia introduced them to the American car market. They weren’t a big hit and became somewhat of a joke because of their poor quality construction. Well here in Probistip those babies are still on the road. Those four cylinder, diesel engined marvels , along with their sister Zastava’s, are workhorses. They all have tow bars to which are attached trailers that transport everything from mattresses and household goods to cement and fieldstones. These vehicles have been on the road for over forty years. So much for poor quality, America!
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