Bring it back old School

Here is something that I previously posted on our joint Blog page. Though there has been little activity on this site, there are still some interesting articles on it.

The gist of this post was an interview with a Baba (grandma).

Baba of the Week: Baba "Janet"

There are so many great babas to choose from here in my town. They range in all different shapes and sizes, some more spherical then others. The one that I chose for baba of the week this week is the one that makes me the most happy in the morning. I always have a groggy start to every morning, either from the previous night’s rakia fest or the “special” channels after dark. Either way, I always dread waking up in the morning. The one thing that does get me out of bed though is the local magazine baba, which for this blog’s purposes, will go by the name of Janet.

Janet is a jovial character whom never seizes to amaze me with her 8 in the morning “spunk”. Her magazine stand is on the way to the municipality and I see her everyday. The magazine is simple and is pentagonal in shape. She does not sell coffee or banitsa like other “sell out” magazine stands. She is 100% original, cut and dry, straight to the point. The selection ranges from Atlas in 4 different languages, National Geographic and Playboy. What makes this stand and the educator of the community any different? It is the sales techniques of the salesbaba. Janet, through her realization of her predecessors’ failures, does not sit in her stand hiding from her clients. She does not moan at the fact that you give her a 10 leva bill for a 50 stotinki paper. She addresses her cliental face to face, outside of the stand. Every morning she says hello and good morning to her passing community members in hopes that they may need the latest addition of Cosmopolitan. Not a fan of Cosmo, for you manly men, she will gladly point out the inappropriately dressed female on this months issue of FHM.

When I sat down with Baba “Janet” for an interview, I asked her a few questions:

Me: Baba “Janet”, you joined some pretty elite company when you decided to start selling newspapers. Is this what you saw yourself doing 60 years ago.

Baba “Janet”: Well, I wanted to be a pet store owner. Gosh, those little puppies really stole my heart when I was little. But over time, I realized that these cute little sweethearts eventually turned into street roving maniacs. How could I have a business selling puppies when I knew someday, they would be the ones keeping up at night with there barking. Besides, there was barely a market for puppies in my village.

Me: Where did you acquire your sales skills that have made you one of the most successful business entrepreneurs in the community?

Baba “Janet”: Probably not from my father. He was the quite, agricultural type. He spent most of his days in the field tending the crops. My mother was the outgoing one of the family. When we were younger, my brothers and sisters would make crafts in our free time. We gave them to our mother, thinking they were the best creations on the planet (Sticks tied together with string makes wonderful creations), and she would try to sell them to the others in the community. Her contagious personality and charisma allowed her to sell these with ease. So, I would have to say that I learned my business skills from her.

Me: So is there a Man in your life
Baba “Janet”: Who, “Hank”? I left that drunkard many years ago. It’s just me now and I am better for it.

Me: In closing, Could you tell me some of your favorite magazines that you read.

Baba “Janet”: Man, there is just so many. I would have to say Garden Monthly is a must read for me. But I am also guilty of taking a peek at the new Barbie magazine every now and then.

At 74, Baba “Janet” stands as a pillar of the community by bridging generations with her personality. She wakes up everyday with energy and excitement that will ingnite the community with a reason to walk to work. At least that’s the way I see it.
For your achievements, Mrs. Baba “Janet”, we salute you.

Signing off, your field reporter

Brian Fantana
You Stay Classy Bulgaria

Read more!

Yes We Did

It is a great time to be an American, citizen of the world, or a guy that is living in Belene. Congratulations to Mr. President-Elect, his family, staff, volunteers and the vast majority that decided change was needed in America.

I celebrated the win here in Bulgaria like any other American in a foreign country would: loudly, proudly and with copious quantities of adult beverages.

Here is a picture of me handing out candy to my colleagues.



Yes, that is the Man himself.

Чао за сега,

Чейс

Read more!

Exit Stage Left

Summer is a great time of year no matter where you are, unless you are in Australia. The morning opens with a cool crisp breeze which quickly retreats and reveals a heat so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I always get lost in my summers. Whether it is on North Ave. beach with the skyline at your back, or the rocky shores of the great Danube, you get lost in time. The last few months here have flown by just as fast as the first 10. This would explain my neglect to this blog. I will try to write a quick update for all of you.

-First trip to the sea coast. Bulgaria has a lot of nature beauty that it can call its own. From the mountains to the sea, Bulgaria really does have rich bio-diversity. I took about a week off to travel up and down the Black Sea coast. Started off in Varna, headed down to Obzor and then finished at Sunny Beach.

Quick run down.

1)Speedos aren’t a suggestion, they are a requirement.

2)If you feel like you are too manly to wax, do it anyway. Odd glances, stares and little kids impersonating Chewbacca aren’t the best way to have a good time.

3)Salt water burns in the most unexpected places.

4)I can’t believe PCVs actually get to live on the sea coast, but then again, I bet people wonder how they let people live in such a beautiful city such as Belene.

5)British tourist, especially Sunny Beach tourist, will give my fellow countrymen from south of the Mason-Dixon line a run for their money when it comes to “rednecks”

6)5 Leva beer will NEVER be a justifiable price for Bulgarian beer, EVER!

7)The idea of being topless on a beach is a right of passage for women and should never be looked down upon.

8)Swedish people don’t all have blond hair.

-Metallica came and when. I rocked and rolled. I got in my first verbal argument with a Bulgarian. I tried to use my most colorful Bulgarian language while also maintain my cultural sensitivity. HAHAHA

-Team Belene basketball is still going strong. We held an official opening for the gym for our town holiday. The kids invited their parents and grandparents to the event where the mayor blessed us with his presence and participated in the opening. We had a small exhibition with the kids (dribbling, passing, shooting) and then the kids showed off their baller skills in a little 3 on 3 contest. The kids were very nervous, but everything turned out well. We are still a long way away from a contest with a formidable opponent.

-Received funding for the organization and implementation of a Scouting program for the youth of Belene. Yes, that’s right. I will take my Cub scout skills and put them to the test as our town tries make some Scouts out of the youth. I know there are some Eagle scouts out there, but honestly now, who would win in a fight, an Eagle or a Cub? Think about it.

-Snoop-a-Loop Tomorrow

Grab your green Hat!!!

-Mid-Service Conference is in a week. It has been 14 months already? Damn.

-Home visitation rights. The month of October will see the return of Chase Morgan to the US of A. Tons of Polish Sausage, Bratwurst, Italian Beef, Pizza, Fajitas and Old Style beer will be consumed. Hugs and kisses handed out, along with a typed one page summary about my time here that will be handed out when someone asks, “So, what are you doing over there?” Mixed emotions about going home. On one hand, I am excited to see everyone, on the other, I am nervous. I guess we will see.

-And last but not least, the shameless promotion of our newest endeavor…

I really don’t like asking people for money or even putting someone in a position were they my feel obligated to give money. Despite this, after consulting people from home, I decided to bring this project to the forefront of friends and family at home. Here is a summary of the project that we are trying to realize in Belene:

Community Youth Center

“A community youth center is a way for the youth to learn new, valuable skills that will enable them to succeed in the ever changing world. A community youth center will teach youth leadership and provide civic education. Our town currently has a building that is used for youth and sporting activities. The building has three rooms, which are empty, that need to be remodeled in order to provide adequate facilities to the children. This project aims to remodel a room in the youth center and create an activities room in which children can come and spend their free time.

Programs held here will allow for vocational, life skills, job preparation and technology skills training. The center will also be a place where the youth can learn about nutrition and health, arts and crafts and recreational athletics and games. We will use computers and audio/visual equipment, such as a white board, dvd player and TV, to enhance the effectiveness of the trainings.

As stated before, the town has a room that can be used for the creation of a youth center, but it lacks the proper equipment and materials to furnish the room. The funds will go towards creating a community-centered youth institution that is both appealing and inspirational to the youth. The room will be under the supervision of Municipal center’s employees. The Municipal center will also work to design and create programs to aid the development of the youth in the community.”

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=313-110

The directions are pretty straight forward. I really suggest you check out and read some of the other volunteers’ projects that are being realized across the world.

Now, I know that most of you pay taxes and also that some of you donate some of your money to local charities, Red Cross, and other Non-Profit orgs. These donations, as you well know, fall under the tax deductions part of your tax filing. This means that instead of paying your required amount to Uncle Sam, you can distribute it as you see fit (qualified orgs only). I recommend that if you haven’t taking advantage of this already, do it in the future. Not just to this program, but others that you see worthy.

Why donate to this Community Youth Center halfway across the world? A palace you will probably never see, kids that you will never meet? Well, I really don’t have an answer for you. The only thing that I can say is that this center (total of $5,000) will be applied to just that, a youth center. Nothing else. No one is getting paid, there are no “administrative costs” or “utility costs”. The funds are applied to the youth center which will directly affect the youth of this town.

Every bit helps, and we thank you in advance for your support.

Ok, enough from me. Again, my advance apologies for the halftime philanthropic drive. I hope it wasn’t as bad as those TV commercials you see on public television or the door to door salesperson.

Take care, I will talk to you (or see you) soon, Stay Classy Chicago

Chase

Read more!

Belene Basketball Baby

I've try to stray away from work related blog posts, though I have written about work experiences in the past. I don't really know if there is a reason for this, but I think I might try throwing in a post or two about work. I guess I have been trying to keep everything that I do here secret and hidden from the PC. I want them to think that I do as little as possible and I am just a Voluntourist. Who knows, but here goes nothing.




My counterpart came across an article in the paper a few months ago, around April. It was in the Peace Corps monthly newsletter that goes out to all volunteers' counterparts. He spotted a interesting article about an organization that was looking to fund basketball programs in Bulgaria. Wow, I thought, this is a project that is right up my alley. Balls and Baskets, what a combo. The foundation was called the Silver Lining Foundation. The foundation was undertaken by a gentleman by the name of Terry Sivesind. I grabbed the article and quickly skedaddled to the computer. I typed up a inquiry email to see if this was just some bogus article or if this guy was really going to fund such a project.

A couple of weeks later, to my surprise, Terry had responded. Not only was a surprised that he responded, but also with the speed in which he did. Since being here, I have learned that patience truly is a virtue. Communications back and forth then ensued. The idea was developed, with the help of a group of school teachers and a couple of local basketball players, to provide new equipment (hoops, basketballs, jerseys, etc.) in order to start a basketball team in Belene. They felt that it was imperative to the community to create and maintain youth programs in order to develop the children into productive members of the community. Sports teams, along with organized activities, were a means to achieve youth development in the community. Build team unity, sportsmanship, confidence, blah, blah, blah. Though there wasn't a "Formal" report made, documentation and writing was still involved. Going the "Non-Formal" way enabled us the ability to receive funds within 2 weeks. Even better, we were able to completely implement and care out all of our goals for the project within 2 months. Total funds, about $5,000.

Below are a picture journal of the process and the actual goals of the project.

Part One of the project: The Build

Here is the actual sports hall. If it looks new, it is. A Bulgarian ministry funded for the remodeling of the gym, but did not want to provide money to actually equip the hall. What a concept! Here is an awesome gym, with nothing in it, Now go develop so kids. Това е България!



Here are some picture of the actual instillation of the hoops and volleyball nets:

What a mess. This whole process took 6 Bulgarian construction workers 2 days. I wonder if they were Union?



OSHA who?



That's right, In ground Volleyball poles. You have to love Дупки.



Firefighters scaling the wall to attach bolts for the hoops, about 20 meters high.



These hoops are from Italy (DLO) and I was told the first in Bulgaria. Be jealous.



So that was the first part of the project, the build. We installed two basketball hoops with plexiglass backboards and professional rims. We also put in two volleyball poles and two handball post. It turned out really good.

Part two of the Project: Start a freakin team!!

So, as a "facilitator" of this project, I was not alone in this process. Of course, my counterpart from the Municipality (Yuilyan) helped with the idea building and writing of the project and my other counterpart from ADO (Peter) became a coach. Peter was to be the coach of the girls team and I was to coach the guys. We also had an another coach, Beev, who helped on both teams. We got together, went to the local schools, discos, bars, drunk tanks and strip clubs to recruit any 8-14 year olds we could find. We were pretty nervous for the first month because we weren't going to have any basketball hoops or equipment. Just two used basketballs, Peter manly appearance, and duct tape. After intense recruiting, the first practice drew about 25 kids. Not bad for the first time.

You have to realize that basketball is not a "household" sport in Bulgaria. Though a few people do play, Bulgaria is like the rest of the world. Soccer is the sport of choice. The first practice was, entertaining to say the least. The kids really didn't know what they were doing, but really tried hard. After a few practices, they actually started to look a little bit better. Now, time for the hoops.

First Practice with Hoops:

This kid's first shot, no rim, no backboard, nothing but air. Peter is there with his cutoff.


Beev teaching the girls how to pass. They are actually pretty fashionable when it comes to Basketball attire.



Not bad, He almost got rim.




Part Three of the Project: I guess we should dress the part.

With a group of willing subjects, it was time to get some proper attire for the team. These pictures below bring us to the close of this chapter in the basketball project.

I think this kid is throwing up the shocker?



Blue and White it is.



the 8-10 year olds. Bad Ass. Oh, if you look at the jerseys, they are about 4 sizes to big for the young guys. Don't worry, they will grow into them.



And now, your starting squad for the Belene Mosquitoes. Photos are available in Wallet size and 8 by 10.




The next step is to line up some games. Right now, we practice twice a week for one hour. The kids still come, and we get about one or two new people every week. I am now fielding any challenges from other Volunteers. If you want to run your squad against the fierce mosquitoes, just let me know.

So that it. A short and simple way of explaining how projects are written and actually carried out. I tried not to put in bullshit about difficulties (communication, community involvement, selling the idea to the mayor, etc.) because I really don't think that is important for you guys to read. All the volunteers go through some difficulties with projects like this. As it goes in all aspects of life, no matter how difficult or impossible an idea looks, its always achievable. I came here as a Business Advising volunteer, but now, I am starting to feel like a Youth Development volunteer. Not so bad in my book. That is it for this post, hopefully I will have one soon about the 4th of July weekend.

The kids of Belene want to say Thank You to Mr. Terry Sivesind and the Silver Lining Foundation.

Stay classy Chicago!! and Go CUBS!





Read more!

I wanna be like Mike

Yes, I received the coolest gift ever. Before I explain my perfect gift, let me give you a little background information.

When people ask me where I am from I say Chicago. Was I born in Chicago? No. Was I raised in Chicago? No. So why do I say Chicago? This is a good question and hopefully I can offer some sort of explanation on this matter. Sometime during the summer of 83’, a small baby named Chasey was born in Houston, Texas. Yes, Chasey. You know, the place where drinking a six pack to and from work was considered normal. A place where the Bushs’ ruled and longhorns roamed. Well, Houston is the place I call my “birthplace”. I lived there until I was three and then moved to the great state of Illinois. My parents moved to the far north side of Chicago, not considered a suburb of Chicago, but rather an outlining city. The town was called Winthrop Harbor and it was located on the border of Lake Michigan and Wisconsin. This is the place I was raised. After college, I moved into an apartment in Chicago. The neighborhood of Chicago I lived in was called Wrigleyville and was literally 1 block away from a Taco Bell, MacDonalds and Wrigley Field. There, I fully embraced and participated in all aspects of urban living. No car, only public transportation; No dollar beer nights, only 5 dollar bottle nights; No yard sales; only thrift stores; No house parties, only bashes; No more decorative art on the fridge, only the Field museum and Art institute; No more running in to an ex-ex-ex girlfriend at the local tavern, but now the surprise of running into the girl you hooked up with two weeks ago, conservatively dressed, on the L. I only lived in the city for 2 years, but the city made a big impression on my life. 2 years out of 24 is not much, only about 8% of my life, but the effects were much greater then 3 years in Houston where I was trying to learn how to walk without shitting myself. So, moral of the story, I consider myself a Chicagoan now.

Now, with that out of the way, onto the Bulgarians. If I tell a Bulgarian I am “From Winthrop Harbor”, they will look back at me with a blank stare and say, “Where?” If I say Chicago, then they tell me about one of their brother’s neighbor’s wife’s cousin once knew a girl that gave a HJ to a guy that had a sister who visited Chicago for two days. Everyone in Bulgaria knows someone from Chicago. So, as you can tell, it is easier to say Chicago then Winthrop Harbor.

Ok, now for the superest, coolest, bestest gift ever. One Friday night, in the great town of Belene, I was talking to some of the guys I hang out with here about Chicago. I have kept a tally of the two most common statements that a Bulgarian says about Chicago and they are: “Al Capone BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM” and “Michael Jordan, SWISH SWISH”. I am not lying about the sound effects. I think they feel like I don’t understand them so they use sweet audible cues to help me. Anyway, one of the guys there, which also has one of the sweetest nicknames, the “General” talked about how much he loved the Chicago Bulls when he was growing up. How he would wake up really early to watch the Michael Jordan and the Bulls play throughout the 90’s. The “General” told me that he was going to bring me a gift the next night. So I am thinking gift, hmmm. The last time I saw a Bulgarian give an American a gift in Bulgaria it was a statue of a baldheaded eagle (Which I ended up breaking later that night, sorry Kellen). So needless to say, I was a bit nervous about the prospect of a gift. Little did I know that this gift was going to be bad ass.





Yes, that’s right. A replica Chicago Bulls, number 23, Michael jersey. I am sure most of you out there have owned this exact jersey before, but for some reason, coming from a Bulgarian was freakin awesome. The size 40 Champion jersey was in fairly mint condition. It was a little tight, but still, it’s a Jordan jersey. I proceeded to put it on and wear it for the rest of the night, even to the disco. You better tell all the moms and dads to lock up their daughters and cattle, because this guy was going out. With Jordan written across my back, there was no stopping me that night.

Greatest gift so far in Bulgaria, thanks to the “General”.

That’s all for now, Stay Classy and talk to you all later. Read more!

Belene

I was recently thinking about what to write in my next blog. Thinking a lot. So much so that it took me over a month to think of a good idea. I was reading through some of the others blogs as well as my previous posts and thought that Belene was being critized far too much. I decided to do a little fact or fiction with a historical background on Belene. You may find the stories below sad, boring or just plan stupid. I will be doing this in two parts, so enjoy. Either way, you get to waste 15 minutes out of your work day reading this. Again, the opinions of Peace Corps or the US government are not reflected in this blog.

Statement: “Didn’t the town of Belene house one of the most gruesome communist concetration camps in the country’s history”

History - Let me first point out a quote from a book called, Tortured for his Faith by Haralan Popov . This may help you understand what exactly went on here on the island.

"We finally got to sleep, only to be wakened again at 3 a.m. to begin another day’s work...masses of mosquitos...descended on us in dark clouds and stung like wasps. The prison leaders were displeased because we were not completing the production schedule and ordered our rations to be reduced...It was a desperate struggle to work on less food...We shared our food with the dying, but many died anyway.

"Guards moved among us in the field beating any who were not working fast enough...Just on impulse, a guard would single out a prisoner working in our midst, walk over to him, put his rifle to his head and pull the trigger...Since the whole work schedule of the island was behind...Instead of marching to the field we were ordered to run three to four miles with guards on horseback chasing us and cracking long leather whips on our backs...In the evening we were chased back...they took great joy in beating the half-dead, staggering line of prisoners."

Haralan Popov was a successful minister in Bulgaria before being arrested and sent to Belene communist prison and labor camp. The communist prison and labor camp were heavily active for 1949 to 1959 and housed mostly political prisoners. During the 80’s, the prison was comprised of mostly Turkish Bulgarians.

The prison was first formed after WWII by the occupying Russians as a way to instill communist thinking into the heads of Bulgarians. You can search the web for more information on the Belene system or I recommend you read the book, Voices from the Gulag: Life and Death in Communist Bulgaria by Tzvetan Todorov.

Fact

Yes these things happened here in Belene, but today the town is much different. Though the prison is still active today, it acts as a standard prison that houses all types of inmates. The prison is not located in the city, but rather on an island called Persin, which is one of the largest islands that can be found on the Danube River. Access to the island is strictly forbidden to almost anyone and only persons with special permission are able to go (sorry guys and gals, no trips to the island unless we swim there). Today, for the most part, the prison acts nothing more then a source of jobs for the citizens here. There are no memorials (from what I can tell) or museums that remember the dead. The island is currently a protected in Natura 2000 and has a multitude of bird species that call it their home.

Statement: “Doesn’t Belene have a military base that turns average Bulgarian men and women into ultimate bad ass killing machines?”

Fact / Fiction

Yes, Belene has a large military base within the city limits. I have visited the base. It was a very extreme experience that I have shared with others before. It was kind of an “Open House” for all the people of Belene and was more specifically geared towards the youth. They had different stations with different weapons, gear, navigating equipment, divers gear and explosive materials. The most eye opening thing for me was the machine guns, hand guns and bazookas that were laid on the table and handled by the little ones. The instructor even taught them how to hold/load the weapons. Strange, but also really bad ass seeing how I was even able to hold a bazooka with all the kids in the background chanting, “Rambo, Rambo, Rambo!!”. Man, I was all that was man that day.

Killing machines? Well, maybe, but the base here specializes in Engineering, kind of like the Army Corps of Engineers. Good thing there are no levees in Belene. I would have to give say fiction to the “ultimate bad ass killing machines” based on the fact that these are pretty smart people, and the only really smart, really bad ass people I know are MacGyver and Dutch from Predator. I mean who else can flex a bicep like that while also have the ability to outsmart an out of space Predator? MacGyver needs no explanation.

Yes, there are a great number of citizens that are in the armed forces here but it actually helps the town. There are a many jobs that have been created by the military base. The income of the soldiers is also spent within the city to shops and restaurants which in turn stimulates the local economy. I am always one for supporting the local scene so the military base gets two thumbs up in my book.

Read more!

Moldova

I recently attended an International Tourism Youth forum in Lozova, Moldova. I was asked by my coworkers to attend this program and decided to give a presentationon our organization as well as ideas we have for rural tourism development. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I volunteered to go, but I figured that I would give it a shot. The only thing that sucked is that the forum was at the same time as the Bulgarian week long holiday. I got in contact with a friend of mine from home who served in the PC in Moldova about a year ago. He recommended the trip and gave me some info about the country.

I was all ready to set off on my mini "business" trip when I received an email from the project coordinators in Moldova. I made a presentation on PowerPoint and sent it to them so they would have it for when I presented. They informed me that there would not be any access to computers at the site and the presentation should be presented in an "informal" setting. I really don't know what that meant. They also said that I need to bring a tent. Hell, a tent? I thought I would be checking into the 4 star hotel in Moldova (not really). Since I don't have a tent lying around my apartment, I decided to "wing-it"(this is a common practice of mine, one in which I relied on heavily in the Middle East).

The trip to and from Moldova was almost a better experience then the forum. First, a half hour trip on bus to Svishtov. Second, a hour and a half bus ride to Ruse followed by a different bus to Bucharest. I arrived in Bucharest about 6 hours early. I was planning on taking the night train from Bucharest to Kishinau. What to do for 6 hours in Bucharest? You guessed it, local beers + local Romanians = one hell of a good time. I spent the next six hours with 4 Romanians and 1 Bulgarian drinking and talking about hard rock bands from the states. I felt bad then and feel bad now for my lack of knowledge in the metal rock department. Something made them think that since I was American, I would know all about the devil music that is called rock. The Romanians spoke English, but the Bulgarian only Russian and Bulgarian I acted as a "translator" for the Bulgarian guy, which, believe me, was a site to be seen. But, after beers and Rakiu (Romanian rakia) I was speaking like the Bulgarian Shakespeare.

So after six hours of stimulating conversation, we were off to Moldova. Ironically, I was in the same sleeper as the Bulgarian guy. The train brought back memories of my European travel days. The smell of musky feet and moldy towels all came flowing back into my mind. As we settled in for the 13 train ride, we met our third and final member of our room, a Moldovan. He was a Moldovan that worked in Bucharest but was traveling to Kishinau to visit his family for the holiday. He was a really nice guy and spoke English decently. The Bulgarian was lost in the converstion as I would occational try to mutter some Bulgarian his direction to get him in the general direction of the converstion. We headed to the diner car before bed and I prepared myself for one hell of a train dinner. Pork sausage and boiled potatoes was on the menu and I was defiantly liking what the 75 year old Moldovan chef was cooking. After a few Kishinau brews, it was off to bed.

Around two o’clock in the morning, we were awoken by the Moldovan border guards. I was half asleep, drool on cheek, when the bombardment of questions came at me. The Moldovan guy was translating what the border guy was saying into English, and I was trying to translate it into Bulgarian for other guy. It was very interesting to say the least.

We arrived in Kishinau around 9 in the morning where I was met by one of the directors of the event. He was a really cool guy that actually spoke Bulgarian. We made our way to a small village about 35 km outside of the capital. Moldova is a pretty green country (only in color, not hybrid vehicle style) with a hilly landscape. The region was similar to that of northern Bulgaria, but I must say that the roads and infrastructure was a mess compared to Bulgaria’s system.

Here are a couple of pictures from the conference:

The opening ceremony for the conference. I was told the guy with the sweet hat is the best singer in Moldova. I don't know if that is true, but I do know one thing, that is a sweet ass felt hat.

Our kitchen for the duration of the trip. It is an old Soviet cooker that the military used. Our meals at the camp consisted of vegetarians dream: oatmeal, soup and boiled potatoes.

The tent I stayed in. About 20 of us.

The group of us standing around in the rain. It rained everyday I was there.

Part of our wine tour through the village. It was my new best friend of Moldova.

Part of the Religious tour of the town. All fifty of us crowded into the cemetery and celebrated the death of the ex-mayor with a glass of when and some pitka bread. I would like to apologize to a Mrs. Ivanova. I accidentally stepped on her grave.

This is the crafty craftsmen that created an inordinate amount of wooden things in his house. Everything from windows to toilet seats.

A Russian bell at a Moldovan monastery. It weight about 4 tons.

















So the path to the monastery was about 12 km there and 12 km back. On our way back, a group of 5 of us got lost in the Moldovan woods for about 2 hours. It was cold and rainy. The only reason we found our way out was by following the bird boxes (Beth) back to a road and then hitching back about 17 km to the camp site. It was the longest 2 hours of my life. All the white stuff is wild garlic.






Some tree.














A spoon game that we played at the camp.














On the trip, I ran into three Peace Corps volunteers from Moldova and four Peace Corps volunteers from Romania. It was interesting to hear there experiences and how similar and different our roles in a foreign country were going.

More to come on the Romania trips and the trip to the Middle East.


Take Care and Stay Classy Chicago,

Chase Read more!

Peace, I am out

Sorry everyone, but I will be out of Bulgaria for the next two weeks. I will post all about the travels when I get back.


Maa Salama,

Chase Read more!

Baba Hoods

You see them everywhere in Bulgaria. They are abundant in the small towns and villages, but scarce in the large cities. They come in many different shapes and sizes, colors and textures. They are Baba (grandma) hoods. For those of you who don’t know what baba hoods are, let me try to articulate there bad assness in writing. Like their cousin headwear apparel bandanas, these too are tied around your head. Similarly to the bikers’ tradition of bandanamania, baba hoods are dawned proudly above most babas in Bulgaria. Unlike biker bandanas though, they do not have a proudly displayed eagle or an American flag on them. They come in patterns that can only be compared to really bad wallpaper from the 60’s and 70’s. Each has a unique smell which is a direct result from long hours in the field and smells from the kitchen. The colors range from simple black to rainbow colored “skittle” head types of hoods. As I asked around about why the hoods are so important to a Bulgarian baba, I was surprised by some of the answers.

1) To protect their colored hair from the elements, such as rain, wind and other things that could affect the red colored hair.
2) It’s cheaper then a hair brush. Why stress in the morning about what to do with your hair when you can just put a piece of cloth around your head and call it a day.
3) Prevents alien attacks
4) Fashion Statement. What better way to make your fellow baba neighbors jealous then by wearing a new fashionable baba hood. They also will make all the old grandpas drool (not from being over medicated) by strutting their stuff in front of them with their new hoods.
5) Used for aroma therapy.
6) So they can be recognized by their family and community
7) Aerodynamic. The curvature of the hood allows for a tight forming fit around the head that enables the 80 year old to reach maximum speed faster. Imagine them without the hoods.
8) It can double as a handkerchief.
9) Being “Hip”. These hoods make them look and feel younger.

Feel free to add more reasons for this phenomenon in Bulgaria and remember to have a great St. Patrick’s Day!!

Until Next week, this is


Stay Classy Bulgaria

Read more!

Joint Blog with other B22's

Here is a link to a newly formed blog page with a group of B22 volunteers submitting posts.

B22Blogstars

Chase Read more!

The Tale of Two Duners (Doners)

To many of you, the word means nothing. To some, including myself, it means much more. It all starts with a soft, fluffy, circular flour shell. Its body has the strength to hold in copious quantities of deliciousness, yet still has the soft and comfortable feeling that you can only find in a pile of fresh laundry (dry of course). The shell is heavily powdered in white flour which upon every bit it leaves your lips looking like, well, white. What is inside this gift from god you ask? Well, the toppings can vary from place to place, but there is usually one constant ingredient that can be found in all doners, MEAT (Sorry, Tyler/Thomas and other grass eaters). Though, without meat doners have been said to exist, I intend to write only about ones with meat. This juicy meat concoction is comprised of many different stacks of “Meat”. This “Meat” is a mystery to the world; it could be beef, chicken, pork, hell maybe even fish. It rotates ever so gracefully around an open air rotisserie thing (Think about that magic Rotisserie machine on TV but bigger and without saying the words, “Set it! And Forget!”) The “meat” is carved off by a highly skilled and trained craftsman (or a pimply high school kid trying to earn money for Friday’s disco) and the “meat” falls gentle into a pile comprised of “character” building ingredients.

As I dive into the art of a duner, I must not forget to mention one of the most critical ingredients, the Sauce. Many say that a duner is to be graded upon this said sauce. Much emphasis and focus is aimed towards the duner sauce. So duner stands will fall or raise in the face of a good or bad sauce. The sauce may be too strong, too garlicky, too runny, too chunky, too sour, too sweet or maybe just plan nasty.

The shell is quickly warmed on a stove top and then the sauce is placed on the shell (generously). The “meat” is then placed in the doner followed by the any of the following ingredients:

Cabbage (sometimes the cabbage consists of Carrots and other “tasty” ingredients) the cabbage can range in colors, green to brown, depending on the freshness. For the full experience, brown and wilted is recommended.

French Fries- From the crispy ness to the wimpyness, French Fries play the “filler” role in this meal. You can tell what type of owner runs the doner stand you are at by the amount of fries you receive. The more in the doner, the less “meat” you will receive. This means the owner is a cheap bastard and his stand should never be returned to. You also need to be aware of the grease content of the fries.

Rice – Rice is a rare ingredient. It was first introduced when the mass influx of Mexicans came to Bulgaria. They brought with them Cinco De Mayo and Burritos. This habit to add rice to burritos then transcended to the doners. The rice allows a more consistent doner. It acts to balance the greasiness and the textures of the meal without overpowering the taste. Rice is a premium product that is added and only quality stands added it to there arsenal.

Pickles – Just as adding corn to pizza is a mystery to me, Pickles to doners are the same way. They do add to the taste, but in an unuseful way. The saltiness of the pickles is lost in the saltiness of the fries and “meat”. The pickles come in many sizes, but the most popular is the spear type.

Tomatoes – Bulgaria grows some of the world’s best tomatoes. The juiciness and sweetness of every tomato here assures you that Bulgaria soil is awesome. You can never have enough tomatoes.

Condiments – I for one am all for adding Ketchup to any meal. Eggs, toast, salads, and now for duners. Why not add to that 1000 calorie duner with a little Ketchup and a whole hell of a lot of Mayo. So add soy sauce, hot sauce, pepper, more salt and oil. I would recommend keeping it simple to employ the full duner experience.

This goodness is all wrapped and packaged in a plastic sack, which is a miracle in itself, and served to you for a low price. Needless to say, it is my crack rock of Bulgaria.

You may ask yourself, “Why explain in such detail the doner?” Well, to add to the reasoning of course. Two weeks ago was our IST. It was a refresher course for us and all the B22s and B21s were in attendance. It was held in the beautiful town of Hissar. The only thing I remember about that place was the super sweet indoor water slide. Who know that time trials down a waterslide would be so fun.

Enough serious talk (If you haven’t notice, I will try to keep serious issues and stories to a bear minimum, because you know as well as I, you don’t want to read about my “life changing events”), I was out in a fabulous town in Bulgaria with a man that will be called, Pablo. At the end of the night, walking perfectly straight lines and reciting the alphabet forward and backwards, we approached the heavenly Doner Stand. Now thing back to college, where El Famous Burrito or Papa Johns was a mere few seconds from realization, here it is the same. A perfect night will be capped off by a carbohydrate loaded meal at 4 in the morning. Here is no different except Duners are substituted instead of Taco Bell. Pablo and I proceeded to cap off our glorious night with two giant duners. I handed him his and then, with my right hand holding deliciousness, turned. As the smell creped towards my nose, out of nowhere, a hand, swifter then mine forced my heaven in a shell to the ground. In a state of shock, I looked into the eyes of the culprit and to my surprise it was Johnny Sourpants. I thought to myself, with the utmost clarity in mind, “What the F$## are you doing?” Words were exchanged; none to be mentioned here, and as cooler heads prevailed, Johnny Sourpants walked to the stand to by me a new doner. Still in shock and awe, I looked at the poor casualty on the ground. There it laid; cabbage and meat sprawled out of the shell. That night I shed a single tear for that KIA Duner. As Johnny handed me a newly made duner with extra sauce, a flash of clarity jolted through my mind. With the duner in my hand for less then two seconds, I immediately launched the duner upon Johnny’s face. Oh the site, a direct hit that ran from the upper left temple to the nose. Man, I really should give the maker of that duner a tip because he must have put extra duner sauce in there. It ran down his head and may have got in his eyes which sent him walking away in shame. Two doners down, and tired I headed to Bed. Just remember, messing with a man (or woman)’s duner is like messing with his family. You just don’t do it. So here is to you Mr. Dunersmackerouterhand Man, Think twice before you act on a person’s duner.


Ok, I am out, Next time I will talk about my adventures to Romania.

Take care and Stay Classy,

Chase Read more!

Peace out Hommies

No post for the next week or so.

I will be in Hissar for "re-education" sessions.

Stay Classy,

Chase Read more!

The Maid that wasn't

They have many names, domestic workers, house servant, maids, housekeepers and my favorite, French maids (that’s beside the point). Since the beginning of time, when the rich decided that it was no longer necessary to wipe their own дупе, there have been maids. It has been well noted that if you are able to acquire said domestic worker, you must be a relatively well off individual. With that said, I never, in a million years, thought that when I came to Bulgaria I would have a maid of my own, or so I thought.

My apartment is located in an apartment block. Not like an apartment found on Addison, but rather a cement monstrosity circa Soviet Union era. It is not the most appealing site to one’s eyes, but it does the job. I enjoy it thoroughly. It is a spacious, two bedroom, one kitchen, full bath, ICE BOX. I stress the words, ice box, emphatically. I live on the 3^rd floor and have many neighbors, one of which is a friendly, old baba with a wicked baba hood. Seriously, it’s like a package of Skittles melted on her head and now resembles a shawl. Anyway, when I first moved in (October) we had several friendly conversations, most of which included me saying hello in Bulgarian three different ways and then saying that I love dogs. Throughout our conversations, she would always say something like,”Чист” followed by”Blahblahblah, somethingsomethingsomething idontknowwhatthisladyissaying butijustkeepstaringather mustacheandiamwonderingifminecouldeverbeasthick, Добре?” and with my outstanding Bulgarian skills, this literally translates to, “Clean, OK?”. I said sure. I believed that for a set price, which she pointed out on her field-stricken hands, would clean my apartment with a vacuum cleaner. The set price was 2 leva. Man, what a deal. My first maid and it will only cost 2 leva. I was moving on up in the underdeveloped world.

Days would pass and for weeks on end I wondered. I had yet to receive this wonderful lady in my home. I wasn’t sure how the process was going to work. Does she come to my door when she wants to clean? Should I find her apartment and ask for her to come down and clean? The answers to these questions eluded me time after time. I would see her outside time and again. The converstion was the same over and over and it always ended with, “2 leva”.

Three months had past and no maid. The excitement of not having to clean my dishes the whole time in Bulgaria quickly wore off and I had to resort to manual labor (after the mouse, Sammy II, began leaving presents for me in the kitchen). I was sad and disappointed that my 3 month *integration plan of talking with the local maid had disappeared. I started thinking about why this old baba would tease me. Was it because I was American and she thought that it would be funny to exploit my Americanism of laziness? Maybe yes, but I don’t think she thought that much into it.

So after a great New Years in Plovdiv, I returned smelly and hung-over to Belene. I was met in the hall by a guy (who I was told later, had been recently released from the town’s prison) that claimed to be the son of good ole’ Skittle head. He spoke with an angry tone and very fast. While I was trying to listen to the man speak, the timed lights in the hallway kept going out. He began to speak louder and louder as I started to realize what he was talking about. He was inquiring about his mother (Skittle head) and the payments of 2 leva that she was suppose to receive. I told him in Bulgarian, it might as well of been Arabic, that she never cleaned my apartment and that I was not going to pay her money. This made him very upset and he became visibly frustrated. The entire time that damn light kept going on and off. Finally, cooler heads prevailed, with the intervention from another neighbor, and we parted ways.

I told the story to my counterpart and he quickly launched an investigation. He came back and started laughing. I guess the Skittle head lady was not trying to clean my apartment, but rather she cleaned the staircase for a monthly fee. All the tenants of the building paid her 2 leva a month to clean up the stairs. So all this time, thinking I was going to have a maid, it turns out this lady was just trying to get me to pay her 2 leva for her job on the stairs. Well, don’t I feel like the horse’s ass.

Take care and you stay classy,

Chase Read more!

Writer's Strike hits Bulgaria

Yes, I know. You have all missed my ever so inspiring blogs and its impeccable grammar, its hair-raising tales of babas and stray dogs, and even the mysterious epic of "what’s that green stuff under my sink". I won't begin to make excuses for my recent lack of blogging, but over the past two months, I have indeed experienced what writers call, "Writers Block". Yes its true, in order to have "writers block" you must both have writing skill and actually write material that people read. So since I lack both of these necessary skills to be a true writer, I must then just be lazy.

Why the recent resurgence of my elegant blogs? One word, Kellen......and a few other people that write blogs often (Thomas, Jimmy, and Tyler). Along with Kellen, I plan to write at least something, whether it’s about my recent integration* mishaps, or just a discussion about my most recent bowel movement. I am not doing this for me, but rather my loyal readers (Mom, Dad, and CP). Oh, Merry Christmas by the way.

Update: Work is going well. In my free time, I am teaching English (yes, hold your laughter), reading (again, try not to laugh), and expanding my group of friends here. I am really enjoying it in good ole' Belene.

(*) - This asterisk will be placed next to the word "integration" every time it is written in my blogs. The reason being, I have no idea, nor can I find someone that can tell me what this word really means. It is a word that is used a lot here, but is overused and a word people try to define, but often fail miserably.

Stay Classy,
Chase Read more!