This past week has been the 'Practicum Week' during training for me. Practicum is sort of like real world training. I, as well as two other volunteers in Probistip, visited the Municipal building as well as two Non-Profit Organizations. The goal was to see how these organizations functioned in the real world and get a concrete idea of their needs, as well as how I may fit into one of their organizations. It is important to note here that since I will be leaving Probistip, I won't actually work for any of these organizations. I am only learning from these examples. But, at all three of these organizations, we met with representatives who spoke English. They told us how the organizations functioned. It put my mind to ease somewhat. I had no idea what to expect. At various training lessons I've been to, the instructors told us what we may encounter, but that's all in the abstract.
At the Municipality, we visited the important departments. While we didn't meet the mayor, we met his assistant who told us how the local government more or less functions. Then we met the Budget office, which prepares the comprehensive budget (natch) every year and then we spoke with representatives from the Office of Economic Development and Office of Juvenile Services and Community Relations. Currently, the Office of Economic Development is in the midst of a Special Business Zone that the city hopes will spark small business development. Unemployment is easily the largest issue Probistip faces and by developing small businesses by giving them breaks on buying land, for example, the city hopes employment will increase. Risto, my host father, works in the Office of Juvenile Services and Community Relations. Until now, I didn't know really what he did. I knew he worked in the Municipality, but that was it. He doesn't speak English and I don't speak Macedonian really, so there was no way for him to effectively communicate his job functions, until now. The department focuses mainly on education and it also plans the yearly festivals, celebrations, etc.
The two Non-Profits we visited were the Probistip chapter of the Red Cross and the Women's Organization of Probistip. The two are night and day with regards to their organization. The Red Cross obviously is an international organization and is able to provide the Probistip chapter with funding and structure. The Women's Organization has none of that. It was interesting to see the differences and how they both operate. Prior to the Practicum Week, I was nervous because I really don't know the language and I don't know how organizations in Macedonia function. So, I didn't know where I fit in or how (or if) I would contribute. After seeing the organizations first hand, they no longer are abstract concepts, but concrete machines, with visible moving parts. At the very least, I feel less nervous about beginning my job in a month or so. Again, I would like to reiterate, I will not be going to any of these three organizations, specifically.
Today, we received our site announcements. These announcements told us where we will be going after November and what my job will be. I hoped to remain close to Probistip, as I've made great friendships here. Aside form that, though, I really wasn't nervous with my placement. No matter where I was placed, it most likely will be in a town I have never heard of. In that regard, it was all the same. But, I did want to know, just to get it out of the way and to begin thinking about the next phase of my journey here. I was assigned to the Municipality of Resen, in Southwest Macedonia. If you look to the map to the right, it is in between Bitola and Ohrid, just north of Lake Prespa. It is clear on the other side of the country. I will be working in the city hall. In fact, when the Municipality applied for a Peace Corps volunteer, it specifically asked for an accountant, so I know I will be doing accounting work (and I know I will be working in the office of the budget there). That is a relief for me, because I know and understand accounting and the knowledge I gain from this experience will probably be useful down the road. Resen is a city of about 9,000 people (a little less that Probistip) and currently has a Peace Corps Volunteer, who works in the school as an English teacher. That's all I know of Resen so far, except for what's available on Resen's wiki page (added to the right). Next week, I will have a site visit out there. But, today I can safely say I know where Marlin Nation is for the next two years!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Down on the Farm
This past Saturday, I went to the family farm with Risto and Zlatko. We were going to slaughter a pig. We left the apartment around 12:30 in the afternoon and arrived at the farm around 1. By that time, the other men helping out were in the pig pen getting the one pig ready. In no time, they had placed a rope and tether to one of the pig's legs and were dragging her out from the pig pen into the clearing by the house. That was the first time I got a good look at the pig. The thing was huge. It almost certainly weighed more than I did and on all fours, was prolly around three and a half feet tall and maybe five and a half feet long. Dragging the pig to the necessary spot was a challenge, as it literally was kicking and screaming the entire time. And mind you, there is only the one restaint on one of its legs from keeping it from going loose. That didn't look very secure, so first chance I got, I went up the stairs on the outside of the house. But, it was secure and these guys are pros at this. They dragged the pig to the required spot and for whatever reason, the pig laid down. I don't know why. One of the men grabbed the nearby ax and I moved into a position where I could not see the head of the pig. I could hear the ax connect with the pig and afterward, the pig made one of the most horrid screams I have ever heard in my life. Another ax, another horrid scream. After the third stroke, the pig was more or less subdued. I think I will always be able to hear that scream, though. Man, that was tough to listen to.
From that point, the men were tasked with skinning the pig and carving out the meat. One of Risto's friends, Slavche, is really a pro at the skinning and cutting. He was working twice as fast as the rest of the men. I wonder if he is the designated pig slaughterer, such that whenever somebody needs a pig slaughtered, the first person they think about is Slavche. "Hey, I need a pig slaughtered for an event next Tuesday. Better get Slavche", you know that kind of thing. The process is long and boring and I really didn't want to help, mainly because I'm not really all about skinning a pig on a Saturday afternoon. But sure enough, as Risto was removing the skin from one of the pig's front legs, he calls out, "Hey, Obama (which is how he likes to refer to me), get over here" [In Macedonian, but this is the translation]. He asked me to hold the leg up while he removed the skin. The day before, I was holding hands and fooling around with a girl I am kinda seeing. The next day, I was holding the leg of a pig carcass. Some days are easier than others.
The kids here really know English. On the farm, one of the boys came over. I think he is Zlatko's cousin and he looked to be about 10 years old maybe. But, he was talking to me in English. Asking where I was from, what music I listened to, what sports I play. I truly was impressed. That night, friends of the family visited the apartment and they brought with them their daughter, who was eight years old. She was enrolled in English tutoring lessons and her family, as well as my host family, was all excited. They were telling me to ask her questions in English and so I obliged. I asked questions like how old she was, what grade she was in, and if she had any brothers or sisters. That kind of stuff. And she answered in perfect English. It was remarkable. And it goes from there. A girl who lives in my neighborhood is 18 years old and never has visited or lived in an English speaking country before, but she has been taking English classes for 10 years in school and is perfectly fluent. Like I said, it truly is impressive.
Finally, over the weekend, I went to a bar that was doing karaoke. By that time, I had already had a bunch and was in a pretty good mood. A lot of the people wanted me to sing a song because a) I'm the new guy and everybody always wants to egg the new guy on and b) I'm American and half the songs available were American pop hits (which everybody listens to over here). So, I selected Black Eyed Peas, "I Gotta Feeling". It's a good party song and I felt it would be a good way to introduce the people here to my Jewish heritage. I looked back before I started and the bar was full. All the tables were occupied and there were a lot of people standing as well. I start singing and I am ridiculously bad. I haven't heard the song in a while, which certainly didn't help. Plus, I am a bad singer to begin with. Plus, I was drunk. I was so bad that at the end of the song, I turned around, and only like 10 people were left in the bar. I can say now that I am such a bad singer that I cleared out a bar during the span of a 4 minute song. I won't be doing karaoke again for a while. To the owners of the bar: I am sorry. It won't happen again.
Chao for now!
From that point, the men were tasked with skinning the pig and carving out the meat. One of Risto's friends, Slavche, is really a pro at the skinning and cutting. He was working twice as fast as the rest of the men. I wonder if he is the designated pig slaughterer, such that whenever somebody needs a pig slaughtered, the first person they think about is Slavche. "Hey, I need a pig slaughtered for an event next Tuesday. Better get Slavche", you know that kind of thing. The process is long and boring and I really didn't want to help, mainly because I'm not really all about skinning a pig on a Saturday afternoon. But sure enough, as Risto was removing the skin from one of the pig's front legs, he calls out, "Hey, Obama (which is how he likes to refer to me), get over here" [In Macedonian, but this is the translation]. He asked me to hold the leg up while he removed the skin. The day before, I was holding hands and fooling around with a girl I am kinda seeing. The next day, I was holding the leg of a pig carcass. Some days are easier than others.
The kids here really know English. On the farm, one of the boys came over. I think he is Zlatko's cousin and he looked to be about 10 years old maybe. But, he was talking to me in English. Asking where I was from, what music I listened to, what sports I play. I truly was impressed. That night, friends of the family visited the apartment and they brought with them their daughter, who was eight years old. She was enrolled in English tutoring lessons and her family, as well as my host family, was all excited. They were telling me to ask her questions in English and so I obliged. I asked questions like how old she was, what grade she was in, and if she had any brothers or sisters. That kind of stuff. And she answered in perfect English. It was remarkable. And it goes from there. A girl who lives in my neighborhood is 18 years old and never has visited or lived in an English speaking country before, but she has been taking English classes for 10 years in school and is perfectly fluent. Like I said, it truly is impressive.
Finally, over the weekend, I went to a bar that was doing karaoke. By that time, I had already had a bunch and was in a pretty good mood. A lot of the people wanted me to sing a song because a) I'm the new guy and everybody always wants to egg the new guy on and b) I'm American and half the songs available were American pop hits (which everybody listens to over here). So, I selected Black Eyed Peas, "I Gotta Feeling". It's a good party song and I felt it would be a good way to introduce the people here to my Jewish heritage. I looked back before I started and the bar was full. All the tables were occupied and there were a lot of people standing as well. I start singing and I am ridiculously bad. I haven't heard the song in a while, which certainly didn't help. Plus, I am a bad singer to begin with. Plus, I was drunk. I was so bad that at the end of the song, I turned around, and only like 10 people were left in the bar. I can say now that I am such a bad singer that I cleared out a bar during the span of a 4 minute song. I won't be doing karaoke again for a while. To the owners of the bar: I am sorry. It won't happen again.
Chao for now!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Weeks 2 and 3 in Probistip
Sorry for not posting sooner. But, now that I have my pictures uploaded onto my computer, this may be a good time for a recap. Three weeks ago, we, the Peace Corps team, were in our hotel, nervously awaiting our home-stay assignments. The tension was nearly unbearable as we waited seemingly forever in the third floor of our hotel, waiting for the queue to come down to meet our families.
Here are a couple of team members passing the time there.
Here is a picture of my host family. Risto, the head of the household is furthest to the left. Then, Jorgen and Peter, his work friends are beside him. (Jorgen is wearing brown and Peter is wearing green). Peter spoke English, which made the first day a lot easier. Risto's wife, Venka, is to the right.
Here is a picture of me with the group.
Probistip itself is situated in the mountains. Actually, to put it more precisely, it is past a mountain. Probistip itself is relatively flat, but we drive through the mountains to get there.
This is a picture taken from the balcony of my host family's apartment.
Another picture from the balcony. This one is of the sunset.
If there is one thing I love, it's hand-drawing my maps. Now that I live in a new city, I thought it appropriate to have a map. The Peace Corps does not supply city maps for everyone, but I borrowed the one map we did have for an evening and jotted down the important stuff. But, right there is Probistip. Interestingly enough, there are no street signs naming the streets. People just know where things are. For an outsider, that can be frustrating, but even after just three weeks here, I know where things are such that I am okay walking around.
This further proves that the internet is nothing but pictures of cats. Risto's family has a farm out in the village approximately 15 min from Probistip. I spent a day out there doing farm stuff and it had all the things one would expect in a farm: chickens, pigs, etc. This cat was also hanging around.
Not this past Sunday, but the Sunday before, was the last day the Water Park in Probistip was open. As a final send off, admission was free. The Probistip Peace Corps team all made it down there at some point or another during the day. It was interesting too, because a lot of us came with members of our host families, so we really didn't plan it. The park itself was a lot of fun. There were about a half dozen or so slides and a huge pool. One difference from the United States: The pool had no shallow area, alcoholic drinks were served, the area around the pool was very slippery (I almost fell twice), and there were no lifeguards visible. If this were America, the Aqua Park would last three seconds before getting shut down.
This is a picture of some of the team, with me on the right.
The unofficial national drink of Macedonia is rajkia, which is somewhat similar to whiskey, but not really. Many families make their own, and people drink it in a social atmosphere. It is usually stronger than whiskey in America. For comparison's sake, whiskey, as well as most vodka, gin, and rum purchased in America is 40% alcohol, or 80 proof. Rajkia here is usually a little over 50% alcohol. So, the first time I had it, I was with Zlatko and his friends. One of his friends gets the shot glasses out and fills them. I knew this day would come, but had kind of dreaded it because I hate whiskey and I hate drinking hard liquor straight. But, here I was, holding my shot glass. We all cheers. And in America, when people have shots of hard liquor and then say Cheers, they take the liquor as a shot. Of course, that's what I thought we would do here. So, we said Cheers and I took the shot like a man, for the record. Did it all in one effort. Then, I look around and everyone else just took a sip! And everyone else looked at me and they said "No, no, no, no, no! You don't take rajkia as a shot!" Dumbass American. Another shot was poured for me and I drank it in sips, like a true Macedonian. I understand the higher alcohol content makes doing shots of it a tricky prospect, but I don't understand how you can sip it. In the infamous voice of Ralph Wiggum, "It tastes like...burning".
Finally, last Sunday was Risto's 55th birthday. We had a little get together in honor. Some of the neighbors came over. Visiting another family's house is a fairly common practice. Visiting hours in Macedonia are much later than in America. This get together didn't get started until like 9:00pm and lasted until about 11.
Picture of me, Risto in the center, and Zlatko on the right.
Again, sorry for not keeping up with everything. This past week has been especially busy for me. But, this I think squares me up. Hope everything is going well with you all.
I met my host family and drove to Probistip. The drive was approximately an hour from Kumanovo.
Probistip itself is situated in the mountains. Actually, to put it more precisely, it is past a mountain. Probistip itself is relatively flat, but we drive through the mountains to get there.
We're starting to get down to business during our training. Today, I had my interview which will help determine my placement. I still don't know what I'll be doing once I start work for real yet. The interview today was an opportunity to share my strengths and weaknesses and from that, the Peace Corps will look into the available openings and determine which one is the best for me. Mind you, this isn't like Survivor, where the last one goes back home. Everyone gets a place. It's just a matter of determining the best fit. I hope I can remain in Probistip. I love it here. I've met a lot of great people and there are a lot of fun things to do. But, the math of the situation suggests that an assignment to Probistip is a long shot.
These past couple weeks have been rather eventful, so let's get down to it:
Not this past Sunday, but the Sunday before, was the last day the Water Park in Probistip was open. As a final send off, admission was free. The Probistip Peace Corps team all made it down there at some point or another during the day. It was interesting too, because a lot of us came with members of our host families, so we really didn't plan it. The park itself was a lot of fun. There were about a half dozen or so slides and a huge pool. One difference from the United States: The pool had no shallow area, alcoholic drinks were served, the area around the pool was very slippery (I almost fell twice), and there were no lifeguards visible. If this were America, the Aqua Park would last three seconds before getting shut down.
The unofficial national drink of Macedonia is rajkia, which is somewhat similar to whiskey, but not really. Many families make their own, and people drink it in a social atmosphere. It is usually stronger than whiskey in America. For comparison's sake, whiskey, as well as most vodka, gin, and rum purchased in America is 40% alcohol, or 80 proof. Rajkia here is usually a little over 50% alcohol. So, the first time I had it, I was with Zlatko and his friends. One of his friends gets the shot glasses out and fills them. I knew this day would come, but had kind of dreaded it because I hate whiskey and I hate drinking hard liquor straight. But, here I was, holding my shot glass. We all cheers. And in America, when people have shots of hard liquor and then say Cheers, they take the liquor as a shot. Of course, that's what I thought we would do here. So, we said Cheers and I took the shot like a man, for the record. Did it all in one effort. Then, I look around and everyone else just took a sip! And everyone else looked at me and they said "No, no, no, no, no! You don't take rajkia as a shot!" Dumbass American. Another shot was poured for me and I drank it in sips, like a true Macedonian. I understand the higher alcohol content makes doing shots of it a tricky prospect, but I don't understand how you can sip it. In the infamous voice of Ralph Wiggum, "It tastes like...burning".
Finally, last Sunday was Risto's 55th birthday. We had a little get together in honor. Some of the neighbors came over. Visiting another family's house is a fairly common practice. Visiting hours in Macedonia are much later than in America. This get together didn't get started until like 9:00pm and lasted until about 11.
Again, sorry for not keeping up with everything. This past week has been especially busy for me. But, this I think squares me up. Hope everything is going well with you all.
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