Talking to yourself is encouraged here.

When I decided to give teaching a try I wondered to myself if I was giving up on my dreams of writing. I'm still not completely 100% sure if that's what I've done but I don't think so. I think when I decided that I wanted to be a writer it was because the only thing I ever felt I was slightly better than mediocre at was english and baking. Baking is a hard sell because there are so many bakeries out there and I didn't know if I would have the guts to go forward with that dream so I stuck with english because it seemed like the safer choice. And what else to do with the english language than become a writer?

After feeling disappointed with myself and the quality of my writing in comparison to my classmates around me who were writing stories constantly and writing really well in my opinion I felt myself really slipping away from my love of writing and even my love of reading. I constantly felt like giving up and my stories were too sappy and emotional and that's not who I was. Or who I am, I should say. I remember riding my bike to my internship at a magazine in Boston and feeling like, "I can't do this. I'm nowhere good enough." There are several times in my life when I wish there was someone or something, some little creature that could sense my emotions without me saying so (because I bottle things) and know that I just needed a little push of encouragement. Or even to tell me, "Okay, it's not working out, don't freak out, maybe your path needs a little adjusting, a little detour." Of course such people do exist but who ever heard of opening up to people and reaching out for a little guidance? That's just not the way we do things here. But I figured things had to start moving because I felt like I had been standing still for too long.

So I got offered a job overseas about a month after completing my teaching course, crossed my fingers and headed off to a small city in the middle of Europe where I didn't know anyone, didn't know the language and had no clue as to what I was doing. I still feel that way after two years. I know a few more people and I'm trying to improve my language skills but I still wonder, "What the hell am I doing? Is this actually going to be my life?" I wonder if I'm a good teacher, a good friend, a good daughter, a good potential wife and a good sister let alone being a good writer. But I haven't given up writing and trying to figure it out so I guess my alternate route isn't so bad. I know people tell young adults all the time that bull about it taking a long time to figure out what you want to do and that's it's okay and you should take your time. That's okay if you're rich and have people taking care of you. But for those who can't afford to take that much time to "find themselves" we kind of have to pick one thing we're kind of good at, try to improve ourselves and cross our fingers that we haven't made a horrible choice.

Sometimes when I'm neck-deep in kindergarteners and asking myself, "Can I do this?" I think, "Well, you seem infinitely happier than the past several years so I'd say that's a plus."

There isn't much "beo" in "Beograd" but just white is boring anyway.

I’m finally home in the U.S. It’s been a great two years. I just returned from a trip to Serbia to visit one of my favorite people in the world, my crazy comrade, Mladen Mojsilovic. I was a little skeptical about going down because of the country’s history and I didn’t know how I would be perceived as a Muslim and an American. But Mladen’s love for his country is really inspiring to me and so I just had to check out what all the fuss was about. After a week I could really understand why he feels so strongly. Belgrade actually felt like a proper city. My feelings about Czech Republic are rather mixed. One reason being the cities don’t feel like real cities to me. They’re extremely beautiful but they’re missing this life, this soul. It’s like walking through a museum. It’s really nice to look at but where are the people, the stories, the dirt? And Prague is so full of drunk tourists on the weekends that it can lose its charm.

I took a train from Pardubice to Budapest on Saturday morning. I had six hours to kill so I went walking around the city. I didn’t get as far as I wanted because carrying around such a huge bag when you’re so small can really exhausting. I ended up resting a café until sunset when I headed to the bus station. My bus was scheduled to depart at 11 p.m. and by 10:55 I was a little nervous the bus wouldn’t show up and then I would be stranded in Budapest with no place to stay and end up wandering the streets. I met some other people waiting for the same bus including a woman who was born and raised in Belgrade and currently living in Vienna. She said the bus was infamous for being late but at 11:00 on the dot, the Fudeks bus came racing around the corner. The bus driver didn’t speak any English so the woman translated for me. I was a little nervous about interacting with him because he seemed so annoyed with everything but he turned out to be a really nice guy and made everyone coffee or tea who wanted it. I sat next to a really nice with whom I chatted the entire way. He gave me recommendations of what to see and where to go in Belgrade. We reached the border at around 2:30 a.m. and we all had to get out of the bus and walk through the drive-thru border control on the Hungarian side. Of all the things to be doing at 2:30 in the morning when it’s around 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside and you’re extremely tired, that has to be one of the top 5. When we got to the Serbian side, the police quickly came on the bus to take our passports and within a few minutes we were back on the road. I arrived in Belgrade around 5 and Mladen was waiting for me at the station. We met a few friends of his who were on their way home from a night of dancing and stopped for a quick chat and then headed off to get some Borek and yogurt for breakfast.  After we were full and happy we headed to a flat that Mladen’s best friend lends to him when he wants to stay in Belgrade.

Over the next few days Mladen took me around to Kalamegda Park, downtown touristic area, his old univsity, Ada (where they have a beach and large park), ate lots of delicious fish and kebabs, went to his hometown of Čačak (which apparently I am still pronouncing incorrectly) where his mother prepared some amazingly delicious food, met tons of his friends, went to a basketball game of Partizan versus Red Star that I think left me terrified of going to basketball games in Serbia, went to concert, had an amazing barbecue at our friend Pajic’s place. Everyone was so incredibly welcoming and friendly. Even on the bus home, the old Serbian woman sitting next to me was forcing cheese and bread on me and paid my bathroom fare at the rest stop since I was out of dinars. I really love the sense of caring and community that I think Czech Republic and a lot of the U.S. tend to lack. I felt so overwhelmed with their generosity. I feel like I can understand my friend a little more as well. I think if I could find a job in Belgrade, I would move there in a heartbeat.

But for now, it’s time to start on my paperwork for South Korea. I am not so sure what to expect from living out there but I hope it will be just as exciting as my past two years in Europe.

Adjusting.

Trying to open yourself up to someone is like trying to open a door stuck on rug with the corners curled up.

I don't know if it will ever go smoothly. I don't know if it's supposed to.

On Tuesdays We Have English Class.

Talking about religion is complicated for me. It's been a path of ups and downs, certainty and doubt and it's a conversation I usually save for only those who are sailing the same ship. But a few months ago, a student asked me, "Ariana, you...um...God?" She put her finger to her head and then put her palms together in prayer. I paused and looked at her quizzically. "Do I believe in God?" I asked. She nodded. I continued to look at her. Of everyone in my life, I have never been prompted such a question. It comes up in conversation with adults because these things come up. But this wasn't an adult. It was an 8-year-old girl. Living in a largely atheistic country. I can't even imagine what could have happened during her day or what had been going on in her life for her to ask me this. Perhaps she felt her life was missing something and she was seeking some answers. It could have been that her class was studying world religions and cultures in school. Or maybe she was searching for some justification for the feeling of abandonment when things in life just didn't get better. But she's 8 so maybe she just heard the word mentioned in stories like the ones they hear about Ježišek and St. Mikulaš. Whatever the cause, I continued to look at her. I wondered how I should answer. I didn't want to overstep any bounds with parents. I didn't want to try to untangle the knotted mess of my own feelings while trying to teach 3rd graders how to express their own. I didn't want to lie. The class was quiet, hanging on my answer. My student straightened her posture and put her hands out, offering me my answer. "Yes?" She squeaked. I looked at her. "Yes, I do."

Hitting the ground walking at a fast yet steady pace.

I'm back from Istanbul and it was amazing. I miss living in a large city so much. I'm actually seriously considering teaching in Turkey for the next year. I think it would be a bit easier than living in Czech Republic. Czech is a great country but when the water is more expensive than the beer and pork is in everything on the menu and people aren't too keen on a Muslim teaching their children, I think I would be more comfortable somewhere else. Don't get me wrong, people have gotten to know me and are used to me but to those who don't know me, it can be a little off-putting. I really love my job here, my students are a handful but great. The 2nd grade pilot program has been going especially well although I think a different textbook would serve them better.

Anyway, I'm back to work and I'm trying to bring myself to apply for new jobs. I'm trying to focus on South Korea, Japan, and Turkey. I've actually even been considering going back home in a few years and maybe try to become state-certified to teach. There were some job postings in New York City and San Francisco that would be pretty cool. Living abroad has made me realize just how American I am and how much I love my home. I'm sure if I lived abroad long enough I would get used to a place but for me, the skyscrapers and the rush of the city and the familiarity, it's where I thrive. Who knows what's in the future?

Teacher, Entertainer, Boo-boo healer.

I love my job for the silly things I get to do. I realize it's strange that for me, growing up meant acting like a kid. I had to stop trying so hard and let things come naturally. There was second grader in my class who hit his head pretty hard on the board and started crying. I went over to him to make sure he was okay but I feel really helpless not speaking the language to be able to comfort him more so I pretended to inspect him (take his pulse, check his ears and his eyes), then I put my hand on his forehead and yelled, "ABRACADABRA ABRACADABRA BOOM!" and he and the class started to laugh. Then I told everyone to also say it so all the second graders yelled, "ABRACADABRA ABRACADABRA BOOM!" I asked him if he felt okay and he nodded and smiled and wiped away his tears. It felt so great to cheer him up like that.

Looking at all colors on the spectrum and even the blended bits in between.

It's been a crazy busy few weeks since I've come back from holiday. I'm trying to apply for new jobs, do my taxes, do my current work, read, study, etc. The days are far too short and I spend too much time at the computer. Even when I take breaks, they are at a computer but at least I get to chat with someone I enjoy, like my friend Mladen. We were discussing the Olympic opening ceremony in Sochi. I missed quite a bit of it due to my inability to find a good connection (and maybe my inability to stay awake while laying on a bed in a warm room). But there are of course some things that couldn't be missed. For example, the conditions for athletes, the whole anti-gay propaganda law and the mishap with one of the rings during the opening ceremony. I also stumbled across a fake Facebook film for President Putin. It gave me a chuckle but my friend seemed a little more bothered by it. I don't like to get too much into politics since I'm far from an expert and it's also not exactly the whole point of my post but I think people tend to blow things out of proportion. The media keeps portraying Putin and Russia as this mysterious, crazy evil force threatening our current way of life. Doesn't this sound all too familiar? Feminists, Muslims, homosexuals, the list goes on. There will always be some "evil" that "the good guys" must protect the world against. We can't allow ourselves to be so blind. I'm not saying the Russian president is without fault but we can't just assume we are the good guys and everyone else who goes against our ideas are bad. Without getting too much more into creating political debate, my point here is this: we usually create our own villains. There are some things that are universally agreed to be bad but for the most part things are not so black and white. I was thinking about this because I called someone a bad friend because I felt they were being really rude and unfair. After calming down and thinking about things I realized I didn't really understand what was going on. In some cases even if I try to understand, I just can't. Then who's the insensitive jerk? We're not perfect and we never will be because we are incredibly biased beings but we can at least try to do better. We need to open our eyes, read, think, try to understand and don't just follow something because we don't want to appear uninformed.

Anyway, I enjoyed what I did see of the ceremony. I did get a chuckle about someone's theory that the ring mishap was a big "screw you" to the U.S. since that ring once-upon-a-time represented the American continent.

In other news: I'm going to Istanbul! Rini and I booked our tickets yesterday.