Tuesday, May 23, 2006

People in Middletown Love Me!!!

I have been in Middletown for about a year and a half and it almost feels like home…almost. Coming for a big city like Chicago it was hard for me to adjust. However, the people in my town embraced me. They played a tremendous role in helping me to adjust. Interesting enough, I met most of my friends on the local bus.

Riding the bus in a small town is an adventure!!! Things happened on our bus that would never happen in the city. For instance, back in the beginning of December the bus hit a deer! The bus driver thought the deer was a piece of cardboard. She didn’t realize it was a deer until we heard a loud thud. One lady started to cry because she felt sorry for the deer. I started thing think about how we as humans are infringing on the rights of animals by taking over land that once belonged to them. Apparently to the locals this wasn’t abnormal, because minutes later the bus driver simply reported the instance and we proceeded to our destinations.

The bus was also a means of social interaction. This included book swapping, loud talking, date catching, event planning, hair braiding, makeup wearing, cloths and shoes changing, and a host of other things. I have had so many funny conversations with people, from interracial dating, and eating Chinese food, to joining the Peace Corps and traveling. Sometimes I felt like I stuck out with my city cloths and styles; however I also felt like I fit right in because the commonality of being a human, with the same basic needs. Doesn’t that have to do with Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs or something? I remember this from the first semester in my grad program. Aha!!!! I did learn something. Maslow claims that we all have basic human needs that must be met these are physiological, safety, love/belonging, esteem, and actualization. I guess I was getting my love/belonging need fulfilled because I met a lot of friends on the bus. My friends and I became “the Group” on the bus. It was great.

Our group consisted of single and divorced woman ranging from the age of 24 (me) to 65. Being the youngest in the group didn’t make me feel out of place at all. Most of my friends provided words of advice and encouragement that helped me “find my way in the world”. I also provided words of advice and encouragement to them. We usually tried to get together once a month for social outings. These ladies were and are the best. I will truly miss them! One woman in particular was so influential in my life that I felt like she was a second mother to me. She lived in Alaska for about 9 years completed a degree as an older adult and simply lived her life. She moved to Middletown about three years ago to be closer to her grandchildren.

She always had words of encouragement that helped me through difficult times on my job and at school. She is a Christian but she is still open to things that are different from her which is the way I am. This says a lot about her because she comes from a Pennsylvania Mennonite family. If you know anything about Mennonites they are sort of like cousins to the Amish i.e. very strict in their beliefs. Although she was open to try different things her faith was not compromised. It is funny how God operated to place her in my life. By meeting this woman I felt God was telling me it’s ok to be me! I am very independent, liberal, and a Christian.

I am going to miss my friends here!

From inside the bus,

Crystal

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Sex Change

Funny things have happened to me throughout this month. Literally the stories I have to tell will leave you laughing for days.

Here we go…

I had to give a presentation for my Russian Politics class about two weeks ago. The teacher called a break and told me I would be going after we returned. I felt a little nervous so decided to take a trip to the bathroom to make sure I looked presentable.

As I walked down the hallway I noticed a woman walking in front of me. She stood out because I initially thought she was a man. I recognized she was a woman only because she had a little curve in her hips. She weighed about 117 pounds, short hair, boy’s shorts, boy’s stripped polo shirt, and boy’s flip flops. I was truly mesmerized by her and my mind began to wander. Was she a lesbian? How did I know for sure she was a woman?

Anyhow as I continued to walk down this hallway behind her, she was walking towards the woman’s bathroom. The place I was headed! This caused me to think even more about bathrooms. What if she had a sex change and decided to use the men’s bathroom because she identified herself as a man rather than a woman? What restrooms do people use that have a sex change? For instance a man that has used the men’s bathroom his entire life might feel awkward going into the women’s bathroom even though he had a sex change. Believe me this was a really weird day because I have no idea why my thoughts took this turn. The story gets even weirder so read on….

The man-looking-woman walked into the woman’s bathroom and I, subconsciously, walked into … the men’s bathroom!!!! I was so busy thinking about sex changes and bathrooms that I didn’t realize my mistake.

As I entered the men’s restroom I took notice to the change in color. The bathroom was green instead of pink but I chalked it up to being a bathroom I had never used on that floor before. First I washed my hands in the sink. Then I fixed my hair and started to think about the presentation I had to give in a few minutes. I decided to use one of the stalls, when my mind switched back to sex changes and bathrooms. I said to myself it would be hilarious if I actually walked into the men’s bathroom without knowing it. I looked around the bathroom to check to be sure that there were not any urinals around and I didn’t see any.

I chuckled to myself and proceeded to go into a stall. There was human waste in that stall so I backed out and started to go for another stall when I noticed….. URINALS!!!! Folks I had been in that bathroom for about five minutes. I even looked around to make sure I was in the “women’s” bathroom and still wasn’t aware of my surroundings until I caught the glimpse of the urinals out of the corner of my eye. This was a hilarious Crystal moment. I looked around the bathroom to insure that there weren’t any men in there and ran to the door. I peeped to make sure no one was around and ran into the woman’s bathroom. I had to laugh at myself. Oddly enough the man-looking-woman was still in the woman’s bathroom and we washed our hands at the same time and exited the bathroom together.

I learned a lesson that day. Our own life experiences, thoughts, stereotypes, and familiarity will cloud our vision so that we see what we want to see. I can’t make assumptions about people based on my perceptions. What I see might not be the reality of the situation. While I am I Bulgaria I hope I will look, listen, and learn before I make assumptions about Bulgarian culture.

From inside the men’s bathroom,

Crystal

Fainting at the Gym

Ok the stories keep coming. I must share

So during the same week of the incident in the bathroom I had gone to the gym to get my workout on. I ran for about an hour and was feeling really good about myself. Only problem I was running late for an engagement. I rushed to the locker room to change.

I was able to take off all my clothes but as I started to put fresh cloths on I ran into a problem….

I was putting my bra on when the back of my hand hit the locker. Blood started to gush out everywhere!!! I didn’t want to panic so I grabbed my hand with the other hand to stop the bleeding. Blood started to seep between my finger and I knew I was in trouble. The only thing on my mind was to stop the bleeding so that I could get dressed. I started to feel a little dizzy so went to the floor with my knees. I guess all that running had tired me out. I grabbed the shirt I had just worked out in and placed that over the sliced area adding pressure. I got the bleeding to stop long enough for me to get dressed, clean up the blood, and go for help. For some reason I thought it was very important to clean up the blood first before going for help. I guess it has a lot to doing with growing up when AIDS/HIV was popular.

I went to the front desk to ask the receptionist for help. As I was talking to him a felt very dizzy and needed to sit down. He gave me a chair and I passed out. I don’t know if it was from losing all the blood or from running but I felt so dizzy. He fanned me and gave me water. We cleaned the cut and I went to hangout with my friend.

The entire night I was worried that I needed stitches and that the cut would get infected. My friend kept insisting I would be fine and even took me to the Rite Aid to get proper bandages. I continued to complain and he offered to take me to the hospital if I thought it was necessary. I didn’t want to be a baby so I didn’t go.

Today as I look at the little scratch on my hand, I mean my “war wound”, I can truly say that I am a drama queen. Why did I think I needed stitches? Look at the size of the little mark. It is healing nicely with no problems. On top of that what made me faint at the Gym? Maybe it was the excitement of it all. I did faint as a child when I got too excited. Ahh another Crystal moment.

Cradling my war wound,

Crystal

Learning the Bulgarian Language and Culture

I started looking at the Cryptic Alphabet and I am a little scared. Learning Bulgarian is going to be a fulltime JOB. Literally the letters don’t have any resemblance to our English letters. Take a look at this link http://www.pravapis.org/art_cyrillic_translit.asp. I better start studying now before I get to Bulgaria. Yikes!!! The only problem is that I can’t start studying because I need to finish my Master’s paper. Ohh boy I need to stay focused. I keep spending time googling information on PC stuff and not working on my paper. As someone I used to work with would, say “bad girl, bad girl”.

In response to the previous blog, I think I should be prepared for whatever happens. The Bulgarian professor mentioned something about racial tensions in a prior conversation. She said she had no idea she was racist or suppressive to gypsies/romas in Bulgaria until she came to the United States. The gypsies (if this is an offensive term please forgive me of my ignorance) are an ethnic group in Bulgaria which are somewhat the equivalent to African Americans in the United States. However they are not African and have more of a Middle Eastern/ Central Asian look to them. For those of you who don’t know what a gypsy/roma is please google it.

The Prof said that Bulgarians behave in a way that is natural for them. They are not trying to be offensive they just don’t know the social norms that are acceptable in the United States. As the author of the article stated Bulgarians truly don’t consider themselves racists or have a knowledge of what the word means. They don’t have the rich history of slavery in their country. The information they have of African Americans comes from rap videos, celebrities, and movies essentially stereotypes. If someone called me the “n word” I will defiantly be offended and let them know what is appropriate and inappropriate when referring to an African American. Every culture, group of people, experience, will not be the same. So, I will have to adapt but at the same time not compromise my beliefs.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Blacks in Bulgaria- Stereotypes Exist Everywhere!!!

So I was looking for information about Bulgaria and came across this article Written by Elizabeth Miller at the American University in Bulgaria. More thoughts to come on this article later. Happy Reading...

Nothing quite satisfies one’s craving for chocolate as the Bulgarian snack, Negarche, whose name is translated into English as “little niggers.” In Bulgarian, the translation means merely “little black baby,” with the reference being cute rather than derogatory. But I have found no luck in my quest for “little white baby” or “little yellow baby” cookies.

The Negarche cookies are easily recognized with the near-photographic representation on the cookie box of a black baby with a head a third the size of his body and lips bigger than his hands. Whether the name is intended to be racist or not is up to debate, but the picture on the box clearly reflects stereotypes.

The following disclaimer may be necessary: all opinions in this piece are the opinions of an American, an outsider if you will. This is just something I noticed as an outsider and felt worth bringing to light.

The demographic shortage of black people in Bulgaria, while not the fault of Bulgarians, has me counting them as I see them. I have been in Bulgaria for six months and have seen only six black people. As an American used to color and a diversity of people, I find this odd. The most reoccurring black person in my life here is Uncle Ben, whose picture is advertised on some of the rice and flavored food sauces available in Blagoevgrad.

Most people here seem oblivious to racial slurs as advertisements boldly repeat them on products in the local stores. Even at AUBG, attempts at addressing diversity issues seem to be minimalist. (A couple of years ago though, when AUBG had a student from Antigua, the Skaptopara cafeteria stopped selling Negarche cookies because of their potentially offensive name.)

During the diversity training session I attended during my first week at AUBG, students discussed ethnic, religious, sexual and other differences a student body may encounter. Then the resident assistants showed us examples of cultural tolerance.

My mouth hung open when the resident assistant used the word “nigger” in one of the example exercises demonstrating tolerance. I scanned the room for the look of shock I expected to see in others. No one seemed the least bit surprised by this word in a seminar teaching tolerance, despite its offensive connotation to a whole race of people.

Later I was told the “n” word is not offensive in Bulgarian - instead, saying ‘black” has the connotation of the “n” word. Funny the language of instruction at AUBG does not happen to be Bulgarian, but English, and in English, the “n” word remains offensive. One would hope in a tolerance class showing incoming students who speak many languages, English sometimes being their only common language, this would be an inappropriate English example of tolerance.

Numbly, around town I read posters advertising “Nigger Party” or “Black Party” in Blagoevgrad, though these posters are meant to advertise rap or hip-hop nights. Rap music provides one of the many stereotypes associated with black people. No one seems to have a problem associating them with gangs, thieving, drugs, and other aspects connected with rap music.

However, most Bulgarians are appalled that anyone would associate them with their most popular music - pop-folk, also known as chalga. Apparently many Bulgarians are offended if someone ignorant of Bulgarians in general associates them with scantly clad women, laud sex acts, and poor taste in lyrics. I imagine most of the black population feels that same offensiveness to being associated solely with rap music.

I expressed my shock that so few black people reside in Bulgaria to a few friends here. The topic brought up interesting perspectives. One Bulgarian informed me of common knowledge I had not been privy to earlier: “Black people are inherently stupider than white people.” He believes intelligent black people happen about as rarely as super geniuses.

A Ukrainian, knowing I had lived in Africa, asked: “So, is it true, I heard that black men are really, you know, big?” Perhaps he thought everyone runs around naked in Africa (not the case), and I was thus knew the size of male genitalia in Ghana. Or maybe it is just common practice for him to ask about the size of other men’s genitalia in the first week of knowing someone. I find either case disturbing.

An American Mormon missionary to Bulgaria merely said, “There are some smart black people,” thus proving ignorance is not limited by any means to residents of Bulgaria.

“Because there are so few black people here, they are seen as fun and exotic, and often become movie stars,” said a Bulgarian. Fun and exotic, like a label on a zoo tag.

These beliefs confuse me. With so few black people in Bulgaria, how can anyone comment at all? Then I recall my distain as time and time again I hear people group ethnicities, religions, and nationalities together in their prejudiced opinions of Christians, Atheists, Muslims, Albanians, Bulgarians, Americans and other groups. Even when reminded of exceptions they brush them under the carpet to stand firm in their close-minded prejudices, forcing stereotypes to encompass everyone in these “groupings.”

For me, people are all the same. No matter what race, nationality, sex or any other differentiating man-made category, the bottom line is there are good and bad people in any category. I distinguish the difference on an individual basis.

I have never met anyone who wants to be associated with a mass stereotype. The common courtesy to not judge someone else on stereotypes should be enforced worldwide. Practice starts with sensitivity in language usage and making intelligent references to people, or none at all if one has no experience to draw reference from.

However, perhaps cookies’ association to racism is a tradition throughout cultures. The famous American cookie Oreo was first made and named in 1902 and at that time had no negative connotation surrounding its name. Yet, now, according to Wikipedia, the word Oreo has a new meaning. It is “often used by lower-class blacks against professional and educated blacks, often those who work for whites or who work in industries that they feel exploit African-Americans.” This usage, the online encyclopedia says, was developed as a metaphor for a new generation of educated African-Americans starting in the 1960s.

It seems cookies are being used by multiple races, nationalities, and other groups of people to express some form of xenophobia. So then perhaps the question is: does the racist connotation make the cookie or does the cookie make the racist connotation?

With the EU accession drawing nearer, Bulgarian people are working to change buildings, governments, and other aspects of society. Desserts with potentially offensive names are probably one of the remains of the past Bulgarians are not quite ready to give up. Meanwhile, it’s nice to know I can go to the sweet shop any day of the week and pick up a fresh “little nigger.” No questions asked.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

My Invite is Here!!!! Bulgaria Here I come!

Map of Bulgaria


I am an official Peace Corps invitee to Bulgaria! My staging event, which is the place PCV meet in the United States before service, is August 4th in Philadelphia or Washington D.C. We leave the country for Bulgaria August 7th, 2006. Can you believe it… an African American girl in Bulgaria? I am so excited.

It’s funny how my life always comes into full circle. My sister went to Bulgaria on a mission’s trip when we were in High School. Our youth pastor took about 15 young adults and teenagers on a trip that changed their lives. I didn’t get a chance to go, but I really respected my sister’s experience. She told me about how nice the people were to her and the sense of hospitality that every Bulgarian extends to foreigners. But most of all I remember her experience as a missionary. They only stayed in Bulgaria for about a week, but the presence of God was felt in that place. People there have a deeper sense of faith than we have in the states. Literally God healed the sick, demons were casted out, and people heard the voice of the Lord. I am not joining the Peace Corps to convert people; I just hope I can find a church community to belong to.

I am also excited because one of the Profs at the University is from Bulgaria!!!! I went to her house about four weeks ago to discuss Bulgarian culture. I didn’t know for sure that I would be going to Bulgaria at the time, but I had a small feeling that it might happen. She is also married to a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) that served in Latin America. Anyhow, this woman has family in Bulgaria i.e. her parents, sisters, and brothers. She extended her Bulgarian hospitality to me and offered to put me in contact with her family members. Yeah. I just need to find out what city I will be in so that I can meet up with them.

Furthermore, my former Youth Pastor has taken trips to Bulgaria at least four times over the last ten years. I can’t wait to ask him about his experiences in Bulgaria.

Pray for me!!!! I need to stay focused so that I complete all the School work I have to do before the Peace Corps. We are in finals week and I should be studying, but I am writing this blog. Heehhejejeje . I also need to be strategic (I guess this word is coming from the Strategic Planning Class I studied for yesterday) in planning to move from PA back to Chicago and Chicago to Bulgaria.

Money, Money, MONEEEY!! I want to save money so that I can travel while I am in the Peace Corps. This means frugal living until my departure date.

Hey I am also thinking about running the Marathon in Athens Greece!!! Greece is literally right beneath Bulgaria.

From the Eastern Part of the States BULGARIA HERE I COME!!!!!!

Crystal