Not that I actually have anything to say (a series of rambling thoughts)

I remembered how Eastern European I really am. My diet for the past week and a half has consisted of all things cabbage: cabbage salad, stuffed cabbage, and most recently cabbage soup. The last is also known as "blue soup" as I used purple cabbage thus turning it a lovely oh so appetizing color of blue.

Sometimes men here will check you out or give you that ever so disturbing look of undressing you with their minds. Recently I've just started to smile and think to myself "if you only knew how hairy my legs are."

I woke up this morning to find puddles of water on my floor, it appears as though water will seep into my house after heavy days of raining. It's ok, it's like a natural mopping system.

Sometimes I think that my computer is trying to save me from myself. I'll be in the middle of a conversation with someone from home and it will just decide "nope, it's time for you to go to bed, I'm going to shut off now." This theory might have more validity if it didn't shut off at all other times of the day as well. But a broken computer means an excuse to buy myself a new one.

My parents are visiting in 11 days, and I couldn't be more excited. Neither could the entire town of Shijak. This might be partially my fault for telling to many people, but I don't think my parents are fully aware of the high amounts of coffees they will be attending with Albanians who speak no English.

I'm thinking of wearing a flea collar around and telling everyone they're really fashionable pieces in America, that feels like I'm abusing my status as only volunteer in Shijak though.

Sometimes I pretend not to understand what people are saying to me. So when I get told "how do you maintain having so much weight when you're a vegetarian," I ignore the fact that in truth I'm being called fat, and respond with the values of eating beans and vegetables.

Be the change

"Be the change you want to see in the world."- Ghandi

It bothers me that this quote is taking on an angrier, reactionary, and accusatory role in my life than it used to. Say it to me a few months ago and I would have talked to you about why I joined the Peace Corps. I took whole courses on "connecting your voice with your touch," aka "putting your money where your mouth is," or simply "not just saying, doing." When I left the quote had such a positive ring to it, a call to charge, true inspiration. And now? Now after being in this country for a few months it has a different tone -- it is the words that I don't want to say calmly to those around me but sometimes scream. I'm not accusing anyone of anything, history can leave hard scars that take a long time to heal, but even though I know this fact my personal emotions and feelings are much different. I will live in this country, in this community for two years, those around me likely their lifetime. So why is it that sometimes I find myself putting in 80% of the effort or even more? I struggle sometimes here as a person who is focused on process and teamwork, in a place where I am really forced to focus on end result (it's not about how the park is made, just if the community gets a park or not). I am having a hard time putting my heart into my work when it is not the work I really believe in. And I think that has to be my answer, process. How can I change my work to understand that no matter what I do or do not accomplish here the process becomes well worth it? I will just have to get back to you on that, but I promise that I will!

Crazy Cat Lady

A long long time ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, or more accurately around 5 months ago when I first moved into my house I found the following items;

• A black trash bag which I was too afraid to touch but was pretty sure held the contents of an old Christmas tree
• A man's leather jacket, still hanging in the front hallway
• A baby crib
• A baby stroller
• 2 small round fuzzy long sheep hair mats
• Various combs
• Cats living on my roof, for a long time I thought that they were rats but then when the noise stopped, and I began to see 2 little kittens around (now named Dimer [pronounced "dee-mer" and meaning winter], and Weasly, Weasly who as you may remember was the cat that spent a brief time living in my house), I realized they were cats
• A creepy backyard complete w/ shed filled with odds and ends, overgrown grass, and a little child's seat in the middle next to a tree (later I would use the shovel and it would end up leaned against that tree creating an even creepier image)
• Various little sculptures made out of shells and what look almost like bones
• Small black and white portrait photographs tucked into the corners of picture frames
• Moldy walls
• Termites in the furniture
• Dust everywhere
• A strange rusty cleaver like thing
• A small dresser filled with shoes
• A lamp of the bust of a woman made out of white plaster with strings hanging down for the hair

Well, I as well as some other people pointed out that I lived in a "cat lady's house," and recommended that to deal with the craziness/creepiness I find a way to incorporate them all into a party, or that I should just frizz out my hair and learn to embrace them. Today I feel as though I have taken that later piece of advice.

Currently I am sitting on my couch (my own personal island) in a sea of floors covered in salt (hey the analogy works quite well, oceans are salty). My hair is a little frizzy as I now have to go through a process of checking my clothes for fleas, showering, drying hair (where the frizz comes in) speedily, rechecking my clothing, getting dressed, re-entering house as little as possible, then leaving. And as far as the crazy cat lady thing goes, this whole process (that and the feeling of having bugs jumping/crawling all over you) is in fact making me go a little bit crazy. As for the cat part, Dimer and Weasly still hang around, as well as their mother "Narcissus", and her new kitten "Ginger," the father "Gandolf" also hangs around some times as well. 

Oh please let me get rid of these fleas soon...