<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574</id><updated>2011-08-21T12:15:01.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zack in the Peace Corps</title><subtitle type='html'>THIS BLOG IS THE OPINION OF ZACHARY YAP AND DOES NOT REPRESENT THE OPINION OF THE PEACE CORPS! My time in Bulgaria. Ideally it'll be updated semi-regularly. Expect the worst. 

E-mail me at zachary.yap@gmail.com

Feel free to leave comments, as well and please bookmark this blog. My low self-esteem needs your patronage.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-5874531968712681622</id><published>2011-07-05T01:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T07:54:13.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cereal Killer</title><content type='html'>This is a post for my AUBG class!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mzhVAJOHgQo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: For those of you who are confused by this post, I made this to demonstrate blog making to a group of international students at a summer camp. I apologize for the graphic content but it held their attention long enough, indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-5874531968712681622?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/5874531968712681622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2011/07/cereal-killer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5874531968712681622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5874531968712681622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2011/07/cereal-killer.html' title='Cereal Killer'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/mzhVAJOHgQo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8258914148230183593</id><published>2010-11-23T12:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T12:36:11.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry about my absence!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So this entry is about a year too late but I’m going to type it up anyway. This is, in no particular order, the list of things that I miss plus a little bit of an explanation. I blame you guys if I end up crying by the end of it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;1)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Console gaming. Okay, this one is at the top because I really really miss it. I brought my game boy but that can only get so far.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;2)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Cable television. I could technically get this one but I would be required to buy a TV and the channels would mostly be in Bulgarian anyway.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;3)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Not being hot/cold when indoors. My apartment doesn’t have the best heating so in the winter I’ve got to line my windows with tape so my heat doesn’t leak out. There’s also a distinct lack of effective ceiling fans here so the summers can be a thing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;4)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Friends and Family. Your spot at number 4 does not mean that I miss you less than my video games. It’s just that I thought of you fourth. Don’t give me that look. My feet are really cold right now and they’re in socks.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;5)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;A bed where my head is against a wall/flat surface. This seems like a weird thing to miss, but you don’t quite understand how inconvenient not having that wall there actually is until you’ve lived like that for a year and a half.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;6)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;A washing machine! Hand washing clothes is actually not bad during the summer. You’re working with cold water and it leaves you smelling like detergent which, on a hot summer day in which you’ve been sweating, isn’t all that bad a thing. The real problem is during the winter when you need to decide whether you’ll use your hot water (a limited quantity) or cold water (a painful quantity) to rinse your underwear. The answer isn’t always obvious.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;7)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Local nerds. My site has been pretty noticeably “Jock-y”. My kids love playing football (or soccer to you heathens) and there’s a table tennis club down the road from the school. What they DON’T do is read or enjoy fantasy games. Dungeons and Dragons was a bust this summer due to that. It was rather disappointing when I learned that a large fraction of my students haven’t watched, much less read, the Harry Potter series. They’re not the best movies (although the newest one on IMAX was fun to watch) but they definitely have their value.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;8)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Bookstores. Yeah there are bookstores here, but nothing along the lines of a Barnes and Noble where you can pick a book up from a shelf and hide in a corner till the restackers kick you out. Also, the books are 90% Bulgarian. It’s like looking at a man shouting at me from behind sound-proof glass. Mister, I know you’re trying to tell me something but there’s a barrier in between us that’s preventing me from caring.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I want to talk about FOODS that I miss. This part is actually really hard for me to type without being a little sad.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;1)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Delivery. Any kind of delivery. I’d take anything. Pizza, Chinese, Indian… Anything for cold days in which I don’t want to leave my living room.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;2)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Seafood. Recently I got some kind of stomach bug from what could’ve been an open can of tuna. I know what you’re thinking. “Zack, you fool! You’re not supposed to eat old tuna. That is what makes you a fool.” I reply, “No! What makes me a fool is my constant need to watch video game videos for games I won’t play for a year!” The tuna was in the fridge and frozen. I’ll admit that it was opened two days prior but it was most certainly in reason. That hasn’t stopped me from stopping my eating of Tuna.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;3)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Seafood again. I also miss shellfish. A story for you all, I received a package from home shortly after I arrived at site. It contained a poorly planned bag of half-stale Jamaican water crackers. For those of you not in the know, these things are big dry crackers that do nothing but strain your jaw and make a huge mess with all of the crumbs. I then found a can of mussels in my local store, since which I haven't been able to find them. I spent the afternoon combining the two in euphoric bliss. That being said, please don’t send me crackers. They won’t make it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;4)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Beef. You’d think with all the damn cows I see on the road that beef would be an easily accessible thing. It is not. On my list of things to eat when I return home is as large a steak as possible cooked medium-rare. Any kind of potato on the side would be aces as well. For a vegetable side, I’d pick asparagus if available. Broccoli if not.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;5)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Milkshakes and smoothies. This one is mostly my fault. Blenders aren’t hard to come by here. I just can’t seem to ever get around to buying one because it never occurs to me. Also, one of the bigger ingredients to the latter drink is missing here which brings me to…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;6)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Ice. I miss getting ice with my drinks. It might be a European thing but ice isn’t a standard when you order a glass of water (which is never free, by the way) and it’s always a pleasant surprise to find it anywhere. Another story. I was having dinner with Anna and Carolyn over the summer at a restaurant in my town. I ordered rakia which, if you remember from a much earlier entry, is highly concentrated alcohol. The waitress brought it out with an accompanying glass of ice cubes. I was visibly happy and this made me want to order alcohol more often. After sharing a couple with the girls, I savored the coolness of the ice in my drink… until the waitress showed up again to take away the last four cubes. To that waitress: I’m sorry that I shouted at you. I might have overreacted, but, damn it, you were about to take my ice cubes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list .5in"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;7)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Alfredo. When you order a pasta dish with shrimp and oysters, you’re not supposed to serve the damn thing with red sauce.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Again, I’d like to apologize for the incredibly late post. I’d also like to apologize for the lack of pictures but then again most of them would just be of me crying into my hands. Finally I’d like to say that even though I miss lots of stuff, this is not a list of things I want people to send me. That would be mostly impractical or impossible. It’s not like you can send someone a hiding place in a bookstore. Not unless you sent a large empty box. Next time, I’ll try to fill you all in on the goings on over here and what has transpired over the last few months. Don’t worry, that sentence was needlessly ominous. I just happened to take the GREs over the summer and I needed to find some use of the vocabulary we needed to study.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Bulgaria&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and, unsurprisingly, it lacks things.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-Zack&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8258914148230183593?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8258914148230183593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/11/sorry-about-my-absence.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8258914148230183593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8258914148230183593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/11/sorry-about-my-absence.html' title='Sorry about my absence!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1772948836005078352</id><published>2010-06-17T07:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T08:11:39.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Football!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it’s been almost 2 months since my last post and I think I know why. I wrote too much and got sick of writing when I was talking about Egypt, and that wasn’t even in Bulgaria. Lots of things have happened in the last two months as well. The new volunteers have arrived (87 of them!), I went to the Rose Festival in Karlovo, I went to Vratsa to help train new volunteers and I finally finished a project that I’d been working on for months with 2 other volunteers. I have also placed a ton of pictures onto my photo gallery about each of these so go take a look because I’m not going to be posting any pictures in this post. Let’s just say that I’m lazy. Well, today I want to talk about the project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have mentioned this, but in my region there are only 4 volunteers. Including myself, there are 2 B24s and a B23. (On a side note, that means that all of these volunteers will be gone by the end of October.) (On another side note, I’ve confirmed that at least 3 more volunteers will be coming to my region at the end of next month.) (On a final side note, I presume that I’ll be promoted to primary Security Warden of my region.) (Or relieved of my position.) (I’m not sure which yet.) I’ve been working with the B24, Shannon, and the B23, Mary, on a football league involving our respective villages and one other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The basic structure of the league was that each school would have two teams: a team for 3rd – 5th graders and a team for 6th – 8th graders. Each team would have or travel to matches over the course of a month and a half and at the end there would be a big tournament to determine the final placement. The main goal was to have them meet with other students and have a good time while bringing as many people together as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems simple, but there were a bunch of problems behind the scenes. We needed to find transportation for the kids. We needed to get insurance for those rides. We needed to organize the kids for which we were buying the insurance for the transportation. We needed to arrange the venues to which the kids would go to with their insurance-enabled transportation. We needed to buy some of the equipment for the venues with which the insurance-enably-transported kids would play. We needed to acquire prizes for the final tournament in which the insurance-enably-transported kids would play at the now-properly-equipped venues. And we needed to gain the approval from the directors of the schools so that the insurance-enably-transported kids could play in the now-properly-equipped venues to win their shiny, new prizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would to say that I was a huge part in all of this. I would love to say that I was able to pull the group together and help communicate with the Bulgarian whoevers that needed to be spoken to. Unfortunately, I cannot do any of that. Other than working on the problems that involved my town directly, I barely had anything to do with this project. All of the credit goes to Shannon and Mary. This was Shannon’s project and Mary was brought in towards the beginning. They had all of the logistics planned out; they spoke with all of the relevant people; they got schools where they needed to go. I was only here to be the volunteer to represent my town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I said that I wouldn’t post any pictures but I’m giving credit where it’s due. None of this would’ve been possible without either of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodgl9jkwI/AAAAAAAAB_s/ErC2pfs5h30/s1600/DSC02893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodgl9jkwI/AAAAAAAAB_s/ErC2pfs5h30/s320/DSC02893.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483727942060315394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodgM3Ti5I/AAAAAAAAB_k/KUnBKGAJPh4/s1600/DSC03122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodgM3Ti5I/AAAAAAAAB_k/KUnBKGAJPh4/s320/DSC03122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483727935323212690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;These are the faces of winners!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of their efforts make me feel a little bad about what I’m about to tell you: My teams took home the gold. Adding together both records, my town had a 7-1 run. Our older kids only lost their first game 0-1. After that they seemed to get angry and they won the next games 7-0, 5-3 and 3-0. Our little kids were the doubtless best of the four schools. They won all of theirs 5-0, 1-0, 6-1 and 2-0. Looking at them now, I suspect that some of those scores are wrong but the point is that they won and that is worth about one more picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodfzCRtnI/AAAAAAAAB_c/74PTG0p2xbI/s1600/DSC03149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodfzCRtnI/AAAAAAAAB_c/74PTG0p2xbI/s320/DSC03149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483727928389908082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;These are also the faces of winners!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, though, it wasn’t about winning or losing. Everyone had a good time. Our closing ceremony was nothing but smiles as the kids all received their respective awards. It was also all smiles for the volunteers as this was a pretty difficult project to pull off. It was a huge relief for everyone involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might ask, “So, Zack, do you plan on doing this again?” and I would answer, “it’s up in the air right now but all signs point to no.” It was a good experience and a good demonstration that inter-volunteer projects are very possible but at the same time I’m not sure if I could play lead on this project since I work in two different towns and my energy is divided as such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and it’s been over one year since I’ve been here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1772948836005078352?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1772948836005078352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/06/football.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1772948836005078352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1772948836005078352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/06/football.html' title='Football!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/TBodgl9jkwI/AAAAAAAAB_s/ErC2pfs5h30/s72-c/DSC02893.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-7312927306773687990</id><published>2010-04-25T09:14:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T13:50:05.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Call It A Vacation, Shall We?</title><content type='html'>Days 6, 7 &amp;amp; 8: Dahab&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last time we left off, I told you that our unbelievably long day in Giza wasn’t over after the Nile dinner. It was long from over. We needed to get on a bus that evening to get to the Red Sea. When we got back to the apartment we literally ran to our rooms, stuffed relevant stuff in a bag and ran to the curb to meet the taxis. It was stressful and a little exciting but mostly stressful. We arrived just on time for our 11pm bus to find out that we were wrong and it was actually a 12:30am bus so we were a little early. We also bought the last 7 tickets for the bus so guess where we sat? In the very back row. So no reclining seats and barely any leg space for about 9 hours. On the bright side, when the sun came up the view was spectacular. There were rocky deserts on one side and the Red Sea on the other. Too bad everyone almost everyone slept through it (or attempted to).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived in Dahab, however, it was all worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPWJgc4fI/AAAAAAAAB7g/a8pRfHy_o8s/s1600/DSC02274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPWJgc4fI/AAAAAAAAB7g/a8pRfHy_o8s/s320/DSC02274.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464079489835000306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water was incredibly blue, the weather was perfect and the beaches, while too rocky to enjoy completely, were beautiful. Also, Saudi Arabia is off in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPWrEWW1I/AAAAAAAAB7o/M8W6xAYKCX8/s1600/DSC02290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPWrEWW1I/AAAAAAAAB7o/M8W6xAYKCX8/s320/DSC02290.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464079498843937618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was appropriate that the first thing we did was eat breakfast. The restaurants in Dahab are all basically the same but they have a certain charm. It must be because sitting on the ground to eat is very appealing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPXBlJSKI/AAAAAAAAB7w/ZoqqpkBV1Og/s1600/DSC02294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPXBlJSKI/AAAAAAAAB7w/ZoqqpkBV1Og/s320/DSC02294.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464079504887072930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem with eating on the ground is that the wild cats that roam the area can and will steal your food if you don’t watch them. Anne lost some toast to a cat. This cat I believe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RQWd7lyyI/AAAAAAAAB74/g5S_Za2Sa4E/s1600/DSC02298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RQWd7lyyI/AAAAAAAAB74/g5S_Za2Sa4E/s320/DSC02298.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464080594829167394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of our meals were like this. The waiters are also very active. They are like salesmen and will give you a deal on their food if you seem unwilling to eat at their establishment.&lt;br /&gt;We ate a lot of fish, squid and shrimp thanks to these deals. After eating, we did a little shopping around for diving masters. After discovering a decent place we took the rest of the day off to rest for the diving we’d be doing the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we headed out to a National Park in the Red Sea for our diving. It was about 30 minutes away from Dahab. Here’s a little map showing the region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RQW6o-psI/AAAAAAAAB8A/GAZMDV09sQ0/s1600/DSC02307.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RQW6o-psI/AAAAAAAAB8A/GAZMDV09sQ0/s320/DSC02307.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464080602535732930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t see where the dive spot is, but you can see everything else.&lt;br /&gt;Because none of us had a diving license (or whatever it is we need) we had to go down with our dive masters. It was fun though. The very first sensation of breathing underwater is unreal and seeing the fish down there at their eye level as opposed to through a pair of goggles on top of them is amazing. You can see how psyched we were to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RRPx8RqCI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/4X3MvHSBeZ4/s1600/DSC02349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RRPx8RqCI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/4X3MvHSBeZ4/s320/DSC02349.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464081579453294626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RRPs03umI/AAAAAAAAB8I/BOvAhHJ_ilY/s1600/DSC02315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RRPs03umI/AAAAAAAAB8I/BOvAhHJ_ilY/s320/DSC02315.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464081578080057954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all good things come to an end. There was some snorkeling after and I took some pictures of the beach itself but soon we needed to get back to the hotel. This would be our last night on the beach. We had a great dinner with a very animated head waiter. We also met up with some of Dawn’s friends who were in the area. We left about midday the next day after breakfast. The bus drove us along the northern coast of the little peninsula we were on. 9 hours and several hundred terrible camel puns later (those armed guards at border totally were wearing “CAMEL-FLAUGE”) and we were back at Dawn’s apartment building where we needed to pack. I won’t share the trip back because, for all intents and purposes, it was the same trip to Egypt backwards. On one hand we got to go to most of Northern Egypt’s sites and we got to swim in the Red Sea. On the other hand, we were dead tired and we needed another vacation. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RR4R8rpuI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/8n4iA9BhgWQ/s1600/DSC02399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RR4R8rpuI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/8n4iA9BhgWQ/s320/DSC02399.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464082275239700194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Quad bikes were also one of the activities that you could do at the beach. It seemed pretty popular.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RR4gHguKI/AAAAAAAAB8g/R8K35lQmgug/s1600/DSC02406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RR4gHguKI/AAAAAAAAB8g/R8K35lQmgug/s320/DSC02406.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464082279043217570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This horse followed me around for a little. I guess it got separated from it’s group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RSUAI8FbI/AAAAAAAAB8o/b8yKIHD8K5E/s1600/DSC02448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RSUAI8FbI/AAAAAAAAB8o/b8yKIHD8K5E/s320/DSC02448.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464082751495607730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sunset from the roof of our hotel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RSUUblwMI/AAAAAAAAB8w/uAeRLrCGglg/s1600/DSC02462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RSUUblwMI/AAAAAAAAB8w/uAeRLrCGglg/s320/DSC02462.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464082756942545090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My last picture of the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s it, ladies and gentlemen. I’ve got no more to tell you about Egypt, and to be frank writing about it was a chore at times. But have no fear; my next post will most definitely be about Bulgaria. In fact, it’ll be about the football (or soccer for you savages) league that I’m helping with. I would also like to mention that all of my photos are in the public gallery. They've been there since I've gotten back but I didn't feel like telling you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was Egypt. Thank god that’s over now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-7312927306773687990?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/7312927306773687990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/lets-call-it-vacation-shall-we.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7312927306773687990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7312927306773687990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/lets-call-it-vacation-shall-we.html' title='Let&apos;s Call It A Vacation, Shall We?'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S9RPWJgc4fI/AAAAAAAAB7g/a8pRfHy_o8s/s72-c/DSC02274.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3145815928333624747</id><published>2010-04-20T06:35:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T07:13:05.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WARNING: LONG ASS POST!</title><content type='html'>Day 5: Giza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pyramids are huge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SORyozfI/AAAAAAAAB3g/BPTiqqP3poQ/s1600/DSC02119.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SORyozfI/AAAAAAAAB3g/BPTiqqP3poQ/s320/DSC02119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462182697061895666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, really big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SO_SvFmI/AAAAAAAAB3o/6eTDT_YYpgs/s1600/DSC02123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SO_SvFmI/AAAAAAAAB3o/6eTDT_YYpgs/s320/DSC02123.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462182709276120674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are really really really big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SPhcinQI/AAAAAAAAB3w/uLIZyM8aENA/s1600/DSC02126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SPhcinQI/AAAAAAAAB3w/uLIZyM8aENA/s320/DSC02126.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462182718444051714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just looking at pictures of them won’t even begin to illustrate how enormous they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Tccq6YoI/AAAAAAAAB4A/vCqc7Kx9Ap0/s1600/DSC02128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Tccq6YoI/AAAAAAAAB4A/vCqc7Kx9Ap0/s320/DSC02128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462184040012079746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, you can’t even see the top of the damn things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Tb_5SOXI/AAAAAAAAB34/09cQ8hkJHrE/s1600/DSC02129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Tb_5SOXI/AAAAAAAAB34/09cQ8hkJHrE/s320/DSC02129.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462184032287734130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look at them at a distance you can sort of see the scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82TdJ2Nz4I/AAAAAAAAB4I/jTmL8JtseLs/s1600/DSC02164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82TdJ2Nz4I/AAAAAAAAB4I/jTmL8JtseLs/s320/DSC02164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462184052139085698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That guy on the left wasn't with us…&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the hell did they only make 3 foot tall doors into the pyramids? (I don’t have a picture of that but I need you to take my word that it’s like a 50 yard downhill squat to the second Pyramid’s sarcophagus room.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 5th day in Egypt was our long-awaited trip to the locations which everyone thinks about when they hear the name “Egypt”. The Great Pyramids of Giza are literally on the edge of Cairo. If you look out into the distance on a clear day you can see them looming over the city. On the way back from Alexandria, the Pyramids were lit up for a light show but we didn’t notice them because they were so big. True story. The largest blocks at the base reached my chest and weighed around 15 tons (that’s metric tons for those of you trying to imagine it) and the smallest ones at the top were still 2 tons. As if standing under these giant structures wasn’t surreal enough, everything around it seems fantastical. Cairo is a pretty modern city but once we pulled up to the ticket booths in front of the pyramids, the entire atmosphere changed. There were dozens of tour groups there, there were vendors selling some cheap crap and there were so many camels. Everywhere you looked was a camel. It was a freaking camel-copia of camels. Even the security/police personnel were riding camels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Ucb2-GTI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/gem_dUcueaI/s1600/DSC02125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Ucb2-GTI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/gem_dUcueaI/s320/DSC02125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462185139305847090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never seen anything as bizarre as a camel chase. Seriously, the security (who were riding on camels) were chasing after unlicensed vendors (who were also riding on camels).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82UcyewbWI/AAAAAAAAB4Y/Z23zKRhVwqY/s1600/DSC02143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82UcyewbWI/AAAAAAAAB4Y/Z23zKRhVwqY/s320/DSC02143.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462185145378303330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A man in hot pursuit of 3 other camel riders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the pyramids, we got in on the camel fun as well. It was odd getting on them because when they are waiting for people, they’re lying on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82UdVAhx9I/AAAAAAAAB4g/CQukGQQgJew/s1600/DSC02176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82UdVAhx9I/AAAAAAAAB4g/CQukGQQgJew/s320/DSC02176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462185154646755282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;HAPPY CAMEL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they stand up straight and you get the very intense feeling of the opposite of dropping. I won’t say raising, however, because that would imply a camel is like an elevator. No, I’ll go with “the opposite of dropping”. They also stand almost 6 ft when on all fours so you get the sensation of being really high up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VFiOa-PI/AAAAAAAAB4o/s8Q4t-VZPvA/s1600/DSC02173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VFiOa-PI/AAAAAAAAB4o/s8Q4t-VZPvA/s320/DSC02173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462185845389457650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I’m on a camel, motherf-----!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are also very unpredictable. Either that or they hate getting petted. This guy here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VGBUFicI/AAAAAAAAB4w/kZieuXfFxrE/s1600/DSC02168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VGBUFicI/AAAAAAAAB4w/kZieuXfFxrE/s320/DSC02168.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462185853734717890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was almost putting his head in my lap so I gave him a little scritch on the head. As thanks he spit at me. Twice. The first time he missed (I’d like to think that I agilely dodged out of the way), but the second time felt like a spritz of something unpleasant had hit my arm. He’ll rue that day. It was a fun diversion though and riding a camel over sand dunes is pretty awesome. It was like a super slow but really bumpy (and organic) roller coaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop was the Sphinx. In contrast to the size of the pyramids, the Sphinx was something of a let down. Don’t get me wrong. The Sphinx is pretty big too, but under the shadow of the second pyramid it’s tiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Vto_jDeI/AAAAAAAAB44/FxD4OCRTU4k/s1600/DSC02187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Vto_jDeI/AAAAAAAAB44/FxD4OCRTU4k/s320/DSC02187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462186534400888290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn’t matter, though because the profile of the Sphinx is outstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VtyBq5jI/AAAAAAAAB5A/8lgh5WGxd-k/s1600/DSC02193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VtyBq5jI/AAAAAAAAB5A/8lgh5WGxd-k/s320/DSC02193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462186536825710130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we proceeded to look at more pyramids. We saw the first pyramid ever built, The Step Pyramid, and the surrounding temples and tombs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VuX7gFAI/AAAAAAAAB5I/8hNVGrztZS4/s1600/DSC02202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82VuX7gFAI/AAAAAAAAB5I/8hNVGrztZS4/s320/DSC02202.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462186547000382466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much more to say about that except that I was rather surprised at the amount of excavation and restoration going on at the two sites. After that we visited two little shops. The first was a papyrus making store where they taught us how people made papyrus in the past and how it’s made now (Fact: the method hasn’t changed significantly). There was a lot of soaking, pounding and rolling. You could do it at home if you had papyrus growing in your yard. Next we visited a perfume store. The man there put on a pretty hard sell, including being mean to the guys and extremely courteous to the ladies, which created a bit of a rift in the duration of the presentation. As a quick aside, my most embarrassing moment happened here: I was tricked into smelling the arm of a Canadian. I’ll not say more on the event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this we had the final part of the tour: a dinner cruise down The Nile River. We spent two hours going up and down the river and it was a beautiful, clear night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82WrC0TQII/AAAAAAAAB5Q/dVEkP302iMM/s1600/DSC02239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82WrC0TQII/AAAAAAAAB5Q/dVEkP302iMM/s320/DSC02239.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462187589305057410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food wasn’t bad but the real treat was the belly dancer and Whirling Dervish that performed during the meal. They were both really good and made for some half-decent pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Wr8wnVEI/AAAAAAAAB5g/iGn41bZQFk0/s1600/DSC02267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Wr8wnVEI/AAAAAAAAB5g/iGn41bZQFk0/s320/DSC02267.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462187604858852418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82WrlX5aII/AAAAAAAAB5Y/RCS07QtuMdg/s1600/DSC02255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82WrlX5aII/AAAAAAAAB5Y/RCS07QtuMdg/s320/DSC02255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462187598581164162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we were hanging out on deck. One of the men who were working at the helm offered to let us take some photos “steering” the ship. Albeit shameless, we went down to take some shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82XMCxb0wI/AAAAAAAAB5o/xmCUtnYLSo8/s1600/DSC02272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82XMCxb0wI/AAAAAAAAB5o/xmCUtnYLSo8/s320/DSC02272.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462188156228719362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;We sail the ocean blue, and our saucy ship’s a beauty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We soon docked back where we started and the tour was officially over. But hold on… The day was far from finished. We had one last thing that needed to be done. I’ll you more about it next time. For now, just take my word that it was not as fun as the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82ZePlLzII/AAAAAAAAB7A/cR4VNY-mvzs/s1600/DSC02171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82ZePlLzII/AAAAAAAAB7A/cR4VNY-mvzs/s320/DSC02171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462190667927899266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Damn you, camel. Damn you and your funny-looking face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Y-3R22UI/AAAAAAAAB64/fV1pN5nfw4M/s1600/DSC02136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Y-3R22UI/AAAAAAAAB64/fV1pN5nfw4M/s320/DSC02136.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462190128828438850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just posing for an album cover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Y-W5pL1I/AAAAAAAAB6w/AV3frS6N76Y/s1600/DSC02206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82Y-W5pL1I/AAAAAAAAB6w/AV3frS6N76Y/s320/DSC02206.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462190120136945490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You can see both reparations and excavations being made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82YbfES30I/AAAAAAAAB6g/muNwPWzWs5c/s1600/DSC02250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82YbfES30I/AAAAAAAAB6g/muNwPWzWs5c/s320/DSC02250.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462189521033682754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;His performance was hypnotizing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my vacation and it was coming to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3145815928333624747?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3145815928333624747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/warning-long-ass-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3145815928333624747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3145815928333624747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/warning-long-ass-post.html' title='WARNING: LONG ASS POST!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S82SORyozfI/AAAAAAAAB3g/BPTiqqP3poQ/s72-c/DSC02119.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-4495904016290779028</id><published>2010-04-17T07:50:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T08:05:50.937-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Copts and Robbers!</title><content type='html'>Day 3 and 4: Downtown and Coptic Cairo’s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As-Salamu ‘Alaykum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this entry, I want to discuss the next two days at one time. Neither day was particularly eventful but this makes the Pyramids entry a lot quicker to get to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Egypt, the weekends are recognized as Friday and Saturday so when we went into town on Sunday morning, we anticipated that everything would be bustling as normal. It wasn’t the case unfortunately as many of the stores were closed. As it turns out, Easter Sunday still has some weight on whether or not a bagel shop is open. Go figure. Regardless, we were waiting outside of it because today we were meeting a very special person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you may know that I went to boarding school. Many of you may also know that Dawn went to the same school as I did. Well today we were meeting a 3rd alumna from the same year: Zoe. Easily one of the geniuses of our class, Zoe was in Egypt for a fellowship as well as working for an NGO. She was super busy all the time from what it sounds like but she was also to be our tour guide for the day. Thanks, Zoe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe took us all around the downtown area of Cairo and showed us the nicer side of the Nile. It was also great catching up with her again. Here we are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvIoJR3GI/AAAAAAAAB1g/RaqwtqkCbZ4/s1600/DSC02084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvIoJR3GI/AAAAAAAAB1g/RaqwtqkCbZ4/s320/DSC02084.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461088585913588834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to see her apartment and meet her roommate. She also showed us around her neighborhood and got us acquainted with the metro system. Cool fact: the metro system has cars that are only for women. She also provided me with the only real regret of the entire trip. I regret not filming her cross the street. Egyptian drivers are crazy and it can be terrifying doing something as simple as crossing the road but Zoe seems like she has developed the ability to do just that while blindfolded. It was amazing. It was graceful with a touch of terror. As I said earlier, it was a comparatively short day so we bid her farewell and headed home before long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, however, we spent in the Egyptian Museum and the Coptic Cairo area. The museum is a sprawling building with artifacts from hundreds of tombs and temples. There are statues, gold and mummies scattered throughout the display cases placed in (assumedly) chronological order. I should also mention that the tour we got was somewhat boring. We weren’t allowed to take pictures, there were no areas to just sit around and take a break, and the tour guide was knowledgeable but no fun at all. The only truly interesting thing I saw there was the Mask of Tutankhamun. It was gold and shiny and harkened back to a time when I was super interested in mummies. Unfortunately, that interest has waned since to the point where I am definitely not willing to put out an extra 100 Egyptian pounds (approx. 20 USD) to see the mummies in the museum. I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer, not a doctor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop was to the area of the city called Coptic Cairo which is basically the old Christian area. The Copts were the Christians in the 6th c. Egypt. Lots of old churches and synagogues are in the area that date back to those times. There’s not much to say about the area. It’s… nice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvJD1ijkI/AAAAAAAAB1o/rXZ52NQTKX4/s1600/DSC02093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvJD1ijkI/AAAAAAAAB1o/rXZ52NQTKX4/s320/DSC02093.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461088593346989634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;It could’ve been a pic of the day but Anna had to go and ruin it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvJaXfrEI/AAAAAAAAB1w/snyDbqEtVuU/s1600/DSC02098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvJaXfrEI/AAAAAAAAB1w/snyDbqEtVuU/s320/DSC02098.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461088599394987074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;One of the last remaining walls from ancient Egyptian times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had one final stop to make. It was the end of the tour but we had a couple hours before we needed to give the bus back so we asked them to take us to the Cairo marketplace. This area is crazy. There are hundreds of vendors and they were all selling some variation of the same crap. It is, however, a great place for bargain hunters if you can get around the damn ripoffs that they all start you at. It's absolutely criminal. It’s also a great place to take pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvjIi25dI/AAAAAAAAB14/yybMwDCY_-s/s1600/DSC02108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvjIi25dI/AAAAAAAAB14/yybMwDCY_-s/s320/DSC02108.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461089041287407058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is apparently a normal day in the market&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the day with something different. It was an apple-tobacco flavored hooka, or shisha as they call them in Egypt. It was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwZSCmCiI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/yeLZJ7DdcLI/s1600/DSC02109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwZSCmCiI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/yeLZJ7DdcLI/s320/DSC02109.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461089971549375010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwY4FdMmI/AAAAAAAAB2I/WyQMRrBP1Uw/s1600/DSC02110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwY4FdMmI/AAAAAAAAB2I/WyQMRrBP1Uw/s320/DSC02110.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461089964582056546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwYTSDiYI/AAAAAAAAB2A/Q2ZwU2rQ4oQ/s1600/DSC02111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mwYTSDiYI/AAAAAAAAB2A/Q2ZwU2rQ4oQ/s320/DSC02111.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461089954702788994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was a good day, but it was admittedly one of the least interesting days of our time there. But in retrospect, the low-key two days we had were what we needed because the next day would be our busiest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxDE3rZII/AAAAAAAAB2Y/6RNw28xXr1c/s1600/DSC02077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxDE3rZII/AAAAAAAAB2Y/6RNw28xXr1c/s320/DSC02077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461090689568433282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;T&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;his is Zoe again. We were all having lunch at a restaurant she recommended. Good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxDlIU5lI/AAAAAAAAB2g/0_8cbf32eDI/s1600/DSC02107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxDlIU5lI/AAAAAAAAB2g/0_8cbf32eDI/s320/DSC02107.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461090698228196946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There were so many people in the market&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxER4dI6I/AAAAAAAAB2o/dh9LJMroknA/s1600/DSC02096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mxER4dI6I/AAAAAAAAB2o/dh9LJMroknA/s320/DSC02096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461090710241223586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You guy’s have seen this picture already but I really like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Next post I'll be talking about the Great Pyramids and how freaking awesome it was. Until then I've got tests to grade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is a vacation but we don’t have to end everyday unable to stand up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-4495904016290779028?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/4495904016290779028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/copts-and-robbers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/4495904016290779028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/4495904016290779028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/copts-and-robbers.html' title='Copts and Robbers!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8mvIoJR3GI/AAAAAAAAB1g/RaqwtqkCbZ4/s72-c/DSC02084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-4583686634309295032</id><published>2010-04-14T07:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T07:24:28.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandria, A Town I Vaguely Knew</title><content type='html'>Day 2: Alexandria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As-Salamu 'Alaykum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here on in, these entries are going to be pretty summarized. We saw so many things and I may or may not remember everything. I’ll try to give a one line summary of each spot but there are certainly a few places that will be discussed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it’s day 2 of our time in Egypt and it starts earlier than one would expect after such a long couple days of travel. The bus arrived at 7am and we were off on an all-day tour of Alexandria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a little background, the Macedonian emperor Alexander the Great conquered Egypt some time ago (think back in the thousands of years) and founded Alexandria as his personal corner of the region. He was smart about it, though, and created a sort of amalgamation of the Egyptian and Greek pantheons that would keep everyone happy. To quote our tour guide, “The way to the heart of the Egyptian people is through their religion.” I mention this because Alexandria’s architecture and artifacts are all inspired in the style of the Greek (and later the Romans). This little summary is super condensed and probably wrong so don’t take my word for it. I’m too lazy to get on Wikipedia to do the research. This was all told to us by amazing tour guide: Aheem. He was both animated and knowledgeable. It was a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after driving for about 2 hours, we got to our halfway point in the middle of nowhere. It’s a little tourist trap that had stores, a playground and something which claimed to be a zoo. But the real highlight was the little bread store that sold super cheap and delicious bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WvaYuPL_I/AAAAAAAABzw/cXfL-IZcUZg/s1600/DSC01971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WvaYuPL_I/AAAAAAAABzw/cXfL-IZcUZg/s320/DSC01971.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459962991104438258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple more hours we arrived in Alexandria. Our first stop was a large tomb discovered by a horse. After the horse’s leg fell through the ceiling they found that there was a huge collection of mummified bodies. I believe the number is around 400 nooks with bodies in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we found ourselves at a massive column called Pompey’s Pillar. I don’t remember the reason why it was built but I recall something about his namesake doing something important. That’s probably obvious from the name, however. There were also a few sphinxes there. The Egyptians believed that the sphinxes were the most powerful creatures. They had the strength of a lion and the wisdom of man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WvbURwBSI/AAAAAAAAB0A/vyI9POCvZLw/s1600/DSC01994.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WvbURwBSI/AAAAAAAAB0A/vyI9POCvZLw/s320/DSC01994.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459963007091082530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wva2PIHzI/AAAAAAAABz4/Hl6nBQHlEsA/s1600/DSC01983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wva2PIHzI/AAAAAAAABz4/Hl6nBQHlEsA/s320/DSC01983.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459962999027015474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop was a Roman style theatre. They found it buried under a ton of sand. This is supposed to be one of around 100 theatres in Alexandria but they’ve only found a handful of them. At the site there were also artifacts that were drawn out of the Mediterranean Sea. There was a huge earthquake in Alexandria a few centuries ago and a large portion collapsed into the water, including the remains of the Library of Alexandria (more on that in a minute).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww7lrpWtI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/OVAxh191y1Q/s1600/DSC02010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww7lrpWtI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/OVAxh191y1Q/s320/DSC02010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459964661030542034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww6EUgURI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/_jXRQmwO68w/s1600/DSC02020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww6EUgURI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/_jXRQmwO68w/s320/DSC02020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459964634895241490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon it was lunchtime. This meal made me realize two things: I really missed seafood and I may never eat decent seafood again till I get back to America. It was a fried fish and some calamari. Squid is a pretty common seafood here so you can get it in almost any restaurant that serves fish. Egyptians also eat a lot of Middle Eastern food (not surprisingly) so their staple appetizers include pitas and hummus, baba ganoush and eggplants. It was outstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next quick stop was a place called the citadel. I don’t really remember what the deal was with the Citadel but it was a really nice day and we were right on the sea. Sorry about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww5pgm-CI/AAAAAAAAB0I/R3BTvg1Un_o/s1600/DSC02031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Ww5pgm-CI/AAAAAAAAB0I/R3BTvg1Un_o/s320/DSC02031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459964627698251810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we visited the Library of Alexandria. The original Library was razed by Julius Caesar but in 2002 they decided to create a new one. It is one of the most amazing libraries I’ve ever been to. There are over one million volumes in their stacks and they have around 370 digital stations for the sake of research. There are also 3 museums underneath it as well as a conference hall across their courtyard. The library itself has a unique construction. The outer walls are etched with words from almost every written language still in existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WxvwSibaI/AAAAAAAAB0g/ZiFKKhTiI6c/s1600/DSC02038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WxvwSibaI/AAAAAAAAB0g/ZiFKKhTiI6c/s320/DSC02038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459965557231218082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The library’s reading room is a series of staggered steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WxwPHFkhI/AAAAAAAAB0o/DGmIXv7ZPI0/s1600/DSC02046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WxwPHFkhI/AAAAAAAAB0o/DGmIXv7ZPI0/s320/DSC02046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459965565504688658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The windows were constructed with the intent preventing any direct sunlight from entereing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wxw25TVKI/AAAAAAAAB0w/MGOfR5YASZs/s1600/DSC02050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wxw25TVKI/AAAAAAAAB0w/MGOfR5YASZs/s320/DSC02050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459965576184288418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have a 5 petabyte (that’s 5000 terabytes or 5 million gigabytes) hard drive solely dedicated to holding a 10 year screenshot of the internet from 1997 to 2007.  The stacks are lit by lamps built directly into the bookshelves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy3BTS4VI/AAAAAAAAB04/zbUBKoLIYnw/s1600/DSC02057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy3BTS4VI/AAAAAAAAB04/zbUBKoLIYnw/s320/DSC02057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459966781568508242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d never seen a more modern, beautiful, and surprisingly elegant library in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our final stop for the day was a little more relaxing than the previous stops. We went to the palace gardens of one of the last rulers of Egypt. It was nice but I’m not really sure why we stopped there other than to look at the Mediterranean. Carolyn and Anna had to touch the water though so we partook in what I wouldn’t call (yet some may think otherwise) trespassing. Finally, we took one final picture in front of the main palace and called it a very very very long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy3hR4n3I/AAAAAAAAB1A/gvAsWTP-kgU/s1600/DSC02076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy3hR4n3I/AAAAAAAAB1A/gvAsWTP-kgU/s320/DSC02076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459966790152527730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, was our first full day in Egypt. To finish off this post I want to indulge in some narcissism. As many of you may know, I tend to take a ton of pictures whenever I take out my camera. It’s a fun hobby and recently I’ve taken to even liking some of the photos I’ve taken. So for at least these entries about Egypt I’ll be showing you my pictures of the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy4hktbnI/AAAAAAAAB1I/FmJnzAhcTdk/s1600/DSC01992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy4hktbnI/AAAAAAAAB1I/FmJnzAhcTdk/s320/DSC01992.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459966807411355250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;We were leaving an underground gallery underneath Pompey’s Pillar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy5cwZMxI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/zRapgoPLOFU/s1600/DSC01995.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8Wy5cwZMxI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/zRapgoPLOFU/s320/DSC01995.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459966823298052882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pompey’s pillar provided some pretty good photo ops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a vacation and we’re not going to take a break until it’s over, dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-4583686634309295032?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/4583686634309295032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/alexandria-town-i-vaguely-knew.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/4583686634309295032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/4583686634309295032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/alexandria-town-i-vaguely-knew.html' title='Alexandria, A Town I Vaguely Knew'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8WvaYuPL_I/AAAAAAAABzw/cXfL-IZcUZg/s72-c/DSC01971.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-5853981915655235684</id><published>2010-04-12T08:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T09:06:49.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>EGYPT!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told you last time that I was going on some secret vacation to somewhere. I went to Egypt and this is the first of my series of posts on my trip. There are going to be a lot, however I have no set number so I’ll just tell you when it’s over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I want to talk about the trip to Egypt and the players in this game. I suppose I’ll start with the latter because it’s a shorter story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I need to start with Dawn. Without her this wouldn’t be possible at all. Otherwise it would have been way too expensive for any of us to stay here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MljRHkseI/AAAAAAAAByw/jQrE2PpsOD8/s1600/DSC02161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MljRHkseI/AAAAAAAAByw/jQrE2PpsOD8/s320/DSC02161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459248461123989986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we have Anna. You may remember her from New Years. She was also the first one I invited to Egypt. We had spoken about it earlier before there were any plans and she had expressed a reasonable amount of interest in going to see pyramids. I can’t imagine why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MljIg4WzI/AAAAAAAAByo/vynWGEBVoUU/s1600/DSC02096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MljIg4WzI/AAAAAAAAByo/vynWGEBVoUU/s320/DSC02096.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459248458814217010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Anne and Josh. They are one of the three married couples in our group. Josh is a teacher, like me, and Anne works as a Special Education (provider?). Anne was most certainly super excited to go. Josh wasn’t as outwardly excited but I can assure you that he was as excited as “The Cookie Monster in an Oreo factory” or a hippopotamus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnHJRRv2I/AAAAAAAABy4/w2wCMZrX9tc/s1600/DSC02314.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnHJRRv2I/AAAAAAAABy4/w2wCMZrX9tc/s320/DSC02314.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459250177004126050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have Carolyn. She also has a tendency to understate her excitement but there were definitely clear moments of utter joy during the last couple days. Scuba diving in particular brought out the small child in her. Not the kicking and screaming part of being thrown into the water for the first time, the part where she’s having too much fun to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnIDD1vdI/AAAAAAAABzI/fVlb82B6JfU/s1600/DSC02388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnIDD1vdI/AAAAAAAABzI/fVlb82B6JfU/s320/DSC02388.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459250192517021138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but not least, we have Matt. He’s yet another teacher (we’re all teachers except for Anne) and he’s from one of the groups that came before us. He’s a super smart guy and happened to be my roommate for the duration of our stay in Egypt. He also eats super slowly like he feels like he needs to squeeze out every last nutrient into his mouth before swallowing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnH0n_5UI/AAAAAAAABzA/vosV-mCBPNA/s1600/DSC02386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MnH0n_5UI/AAAAAAAABzA/vosV-mCBPNA/s320/DSC02386.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459250188642149698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I suppose that there’s me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MorpEUmQI/AAAAAAAABzQ/k2qHjYSJLOU/s1600/DSC02112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MorpEUmQI/AAAAAAAABzQ/k2qHjYSJLOU/s320/DSC02112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459251903526639874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on April 1, we were all to meet in Bourgas for the trip to Cairo. The plan was to take one of the daily overnight buses into Istanbul then get on the plane to Egypt. Carolyn came to my place the night before so that it would be easier to arrange the transportation and we could keep each other company. That was a great choice, by the way, because the damn train ride was over 5 hours long. We both knew it was going to be a rough 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving in Cairo we met with Anna, Josh and Anne. Matt was going to meet us in Istanbul. We had Chinese food and walked around the city for a few hours then made our way to the bus station. We checked in and were led to a very dark corner of the city. A little unsettling, perhaps, but it was the right spot. It was time for a 9 hour bus ride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not many things happened but there were a few highlights. I met a Turkish man from Varna who was studying to be a doctor. We went through a strangely low security checkpoint at the Bulgaria-Turkey border. We made friends with the bus’s conductor. And the damn bus ride was 9 freaking hours. There’s no getting around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There weren’t any more problems for the rest of the trip to Cairo. We got to Istanbul, checked in at the airport and sat around for a couple hours. The only things to note are the 10 Euro sandwich that I ate and the strangely delicious salmon they served us on the plane. So everyone knows, Turkish Airlines has amazing food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we met Dawn in Cairo things got a little worrisome. After piling into the tiny van, the driver got stopped by someone in the airport parking lot and his license was taken away. After some ‘discussion’ he got it back but was stopped at least 4-5 more times after that. Also, we may or may not have almost gotten into a car crash. I say “may or may not” because crazy driving is the norm on the road. Anne got a little stressed out from all the weaving we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the apartment building, it turns out that it was way nicer than we expected. ‘Way nicer’ means that those apartments would be something to strive towards later in life. Dawn was able to get us into the two extra apartments in the building and those, plus her extra room, meant that  we all had very comfortable lodgings for our time there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, to end the day, we all went to City Stars mall. It’s the largest mall in Egypt and if you were to tell me that it’s the largest mall in Africa I’d believe you. There aren’t any words to describe the mall other than insanely huge. It was also nicer than any other mall I’ve ever been to. Anything we wanted we could find it there. We even had Fuddruckers for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we arrived back at the apartment the general consensus was to fall into bed and sleep. We had a very early morning the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn’t the Peace Corps so I don’t have to say it is for the next few entries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-5853981915655235684?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/5853981915655235684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/egypt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5853981915655235684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5853981915655235684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/04/egypt.html' title='EGYPT!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S8MljRHkseI/AAAAAAAAByw/jQrE2PpsOD8/s72-c/DSC02161.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-5302230469301268512</id><published>2010-03-31T06:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T06:56:18.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Vacation!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow begins the Easter/Spring Break. Now due to security measures put down by the Peace Corps I cannot tell you what I'll be doing but it's super exciting and there will be pictures. You probably won't miss me, but in case you might be wondering, I'm going to be pretty busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I'll be --------- in ------- with ----- ------.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-5302230469301268512?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/5302230469301268512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/03/easter-vacation.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5302230469301268512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5302230469301268512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/03/easter-vacation.html' title='Easter Vacation!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8495977138113952954</id><published>2010-03-15T00:19:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T14:25:15.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Martinitsa</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've got a small confession to make. I wrote the following post a couple weeks ago but kept putting it off because I was waiting for a stork. You'll here about it in a minute. But I'm super sorry about that. So here's the post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zdraveytey everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apologies for the very late post. I was trying to wait for the storks to arrive carrying spring with them, or something like that. As it turns out, Baba Marta had other plans. The snow is back, and the storks will probably be waiting for a couple more weeks. But I suppose I should be explaining myself. Well here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baba Marta, or Martinitsa, is one of the most charming and likeable holidays on the Bulgarian calendar. The idea of the vacation is that on the 1st of March the entire country waits for spring to begin. On this day, and for a few days after, they exchange small red and white trinkets to wear. From what I gathered, the red represents the passion for life, while the white represents… something else? Maybe the snow…?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The martinitsas (as the trinkets are called) have two main forms. The first is a pin that may have small people on them made of red and white string. They are supposed to represent a boy and a girl, named Pijou and Penda respectively:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Rxagv_GI/AAAAAAAABwI/DkCbp2sNtKA/s1600-h/DSC01902.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Rxagv_GI/AAAAAAAABwI/DkCbp2sNtKA/s320/DSC01902.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449304721002069090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more common form of martinitsa is that of the white and red string bracelet. These can come in many forms and may or may not have decorative beads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_RyZ1LJqI/AAAAAAAABwQ/jTJA1xvluVw/s1600-h/DSC01900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_RyZ1LJqI/AAAAAAAABwQ/jTJA1xvluVw/s320/DSC01900.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449304737999169186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the 1st is approaching everyone and their cousins begin selling these all over the place. You can find them in any store on the street but you don’t need to buy those because there are dozens of vendors scattered around the towns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_RzK3_bcI/AAAAAAAABwY/0JZYVDLSW1Y/s1600-h/DSC01912.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_RzK3_bcI/AAAAAAAABwY/0JZYVDLSW1Y/s320/DSC01912.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449304751164321218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the 1st everyone waits for one of two things: the first buds on the trees, or the first storks to nest. These mean that spring is approaching. When either of these are found, then the martinitsas are all tied on trees throught the towns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for who wears them, everyone wears these. From the youngest child:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Udk3rY0I/AAAAAAAABww/Giw4EmgI0rU/s1600-h/DSC01908.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Udk3rY0I/AAAAAAAABww/Giw4EmgI0rU/s320/DSC01908.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449307678720090946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the oldest grandparent:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_UgNZlmjI/AAAAAAAABw4/NJtcLxdGwMY/s1600-h/DSC01910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_UgNZlmjI/AAAAAAAABw4/NJtcLxdGwMY/s320/DSC01910.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449307723959474738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are worn until spring starts. Even I have some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_TQ5sTo9I/AAAAAAAABwg/vAbjmjUXris/s1600-h/DSC01916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_TQ5sTo9I/AAAAAAAABwg/vAbjmjUXris/s320/DSC01916.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449306361459614674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also put them on pets. This is a picture taken by my language trainer’s husband, who happens to be a veterinarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_TRYmYAUI/AAAAAAAABwo/Afd324ymlEE/s1600-h/%D0%A7%D0%B5%D1%81%D1%82%D0%B8%D1%82%D0%B0+%D0%91%D0%B0%D0%B1%D0%B0+%D0%9C%D0%B0%D1%80%D1%82%D0%B0+2010!!!.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_TRYmYAUI/AAAAAAAABwo/Afd324ymlEE/s320/%D0%A7%D0%B5%D1%81%D1%82%D0%B8%D1%82%D0%B0+%D0%91%D0%B0%D0%B1%D0%B0+%D0%9C%D0%B0%D1%80%D1%82%D0%B0+2010!!!.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449306369756234050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are almost never taken off. They are to be worn until it’s time to hang them up. I’ve heard stories where the spring took it’s time and by then the strings had turned from white to brown to black with grime. I don’t have a picture of that but I figure that’s for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, this year Baba Marta was a bitch. Instead of spring, the spiteful whore conjured up countrywide snow fall. I’m looking out my window at some 5-6 inches of the crap. I want to believe that she’s like a groundhog as well. She looks at her incredibly charming, and deceptively expensive holiday and if she doesn’t see the shadow from the money pile that comes from all the children buying her trinkets, then she’ll grant another month of winter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Bulgaria and everyday is a holiday here. No joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. Still waiting for that stork. It's a lot warmer now though. Lots less snow and I usually don't need the radiator on. Again sorry about the huge delay. For fun, I'll also put up a few of the pictures that didn't make it through the original document.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WGSxKRZI/AAAAAAAABxQ/6ETEAzCq4FI/s1600-h/DSC01905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WGSxKRZI/AAAAAAAABxQ/6ETEAzCq4FI/s320/DSC01905.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449309477747180946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WFHmv1vI/AAAAAAAABxI/Lw-q4hC0Q1A/s1600-h/DSC01904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WFHmv1vI/AAAAAAAABxI/Lw-q4hC0Q1A/s320/DSC01904.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449309457570846450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WEDFBLLI/AAAAAAAABxA/2TFT2Izr0j4/s1600-h/DSC01903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_WEDFBLLI/AAAAAAAABxA/2TFT2Izr0j4/s320/DSC01903.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449309439175765170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Zc5A6S6I/AAAAAAAABxY/S4ERY8fymL4/s1600-h/DSC01911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Zc5A6S6I/AAAAAAAABxY/S4ERY8fymL4/s320/DSC01911.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449313164505795490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and sometimes if you wait hard enough stuff can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack (again)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8495977138113952954?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8495977138113952954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/03/martinitsa.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8495977138113952954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8495977138113952954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/03/martinitsa.html' title='Martinitsa'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S5_Rxagv_GI/AAAAAAAABwI/DkCbp2sNtKA/s72-c/DSC01902.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8118223414834752961</id><published>2010-02-16T12:48:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T13:17:25.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kukkeri!</title><content type='html'>News Flash!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend I had the opportunity to observe one of Bulgaria’s more ancient traditions. The festival of Kukkeri reaches further back than the Christian religion in this region and no one knows for certain the truth behind this bizarre spectacle. Today I’ll show you what I’ve seen and tell you my conclusions upon the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the festival of Kukkeri has roots in the pagan traditions of Bulgaria. The nearby villages all gather in a single place and perform what can only be called a bizarre representation of something which they once believed took place. The participants (in groups as large as 30 to 40) have dressed themselves in costumes made from the hides of animals or in traditional Bulgarian clothing and they have choreographed… something. It could be easier if I just showed you a sample of their dances:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dd678e7ba7702be3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddd678e7ba7702be3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330152485%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E46C5A49A094D360D0DCA69E1CF9986EC69DF46.570C4722B166673FE35576B29823D4BA37F47970%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddd678e7ba7702be3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DL_yzqTyk1MphgeEqqOcJdNN1JeM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddd678e7ba7702be3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330152485%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E46C5A49A094D360D0DCA69E1CF9986EC69DF46.570C4722B166673FE35576B29823D4BA37F47970%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddd678e7ba7702be3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DL_yzqTyk1MphgeEqqOcJdNN1JeM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Yes, the entire day was like listening to the world's worst wind chime&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As you can see, the men have worn headdresses made from flowers and they’re wearing jars with something in them to make a rhythmic cacophony during their presentation. I should also mention that the children are not spared from this event either. They are also placed in costume and given disproportioned hats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rcIr6WcvI/AAAAAAAABu8/tSDXDUbKleU/s1600-h/DSC01821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rcIr6WcvI/AAAAAAAABu8/tSDXDUbKleU/s320/DSC01821.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438901541787824882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The hat’s as big as he is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women also are made to dance in circles, possibly to show respect for some fallen god or to represent the dancing upon the ashes of a conquered people. Should the truth be the latter, the Bulgarian people deserve much more respect. And fear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rcJP0qDrI/AAAAAAAABvE/jSmT-_ucthg/s1600-h/DSC01853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rcJP0qDrI/AAAAAAAABvE/jSmT-_ucthg/s320/DSC01853.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438901551427620530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The little girl is the representation of the people forced to dance on their own ashes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mentioned before, each of the different groups have a different costume but the costumes differ drastically depending on who you look at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc-KW4uiI/AAAAAAAABvM/Vdtzz1EPLoo/s1600-h/DSC01838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc-KW4uiI/AAAAAAAABvM/Vdtzz1EPLoo/s320/DSC01838.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438902460493642274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I want to believe that this group was aiming for Mexican Calavera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the towns have specific characters. Some have witches:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc_QwzzyI/AAAAAAAABvc/RVV-ESiqiyI/s1600-h/DSC01850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc_QwzzyI/AAAAAAAABvc/RVV-ESiqiyI/s320/DSC01850.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438902479392853794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Witches are ugly everywhere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some have people dressed as cows getting beat by people not dressed as cows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc-1ltCsI/AAAAAAAABvU/Mstj-qFXNKI/s1600-h/DSC01839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rc-1ltCsI/AAAAAAAABvU/Mstj-qFXNKI/s320/DSC01839.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438902472098515650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;This scene will forever haunt my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some have small girls held up by flower-folk. I assure you that there's a little girl (or boy in a dress) in this chair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-798fcd43608ee037" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D798fcd43608ee037%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330152485%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6B5B804FA1F49090A8ABB974E03D2DE448B5E589.431549E08C9AA91C7C3315ABA979D74CECAE8E3D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D798fcd43608ee037%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMqOR3EojKOKoiq-MSRZA77yPKAM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D798fcd43608ee037%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330152485%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6B5B804FA1F49090A8ABB974E03D2DE448B5E589.431549E08C9AA91C7C3315ABA979D74CECAE8E3D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D798fcd43608ee037%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMqOR3EojKOKoiq-MSRZA77yPKAM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There’s no guarantee that she’s wasn’t completely terrified during this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, Kukkeri’s theme is that of Insanity. But this insanity must have a reason, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s my theory: Kukkeri is a re-enactment of a prehistoric, giant interstellar battle between dozens of different alien races that all ended in a giant dance-off. The different costumes, from the men with hats the same color of their faces, to the flower-folk, to the mirror-head people, all represent different races that colluded into a single spot in the sky where they went in and out of formation banging pots the entire time. We don’t know if this truly happened but I think we could safely say it looked like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mOUUH1Lb0I0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mOUUH1Lb0I0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;Minus the nerd shame.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see more pictures of Kukkeri on my pictures page.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I wish I could explain everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8118223414834752961?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8118223414834752961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/kukkeri.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8118223414834752961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8118223414834752961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/kukkeri.html' title='Kukkeri!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S3rcIr6WcvI/AAAAAAAABu8/tSDXDUbKleU/s72-c/DSC01821.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2273827492671713148</id><published>2010-02-16T04:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T04:33:01.439-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Really guys?</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone. Another quick post. The real one will be up tomorrow and it'll be fun. But we need to talk for a minute. I just realized that the public pictures link was broken. My fault. I typed the wrong address in the spot. But then again, you guys should've said something. Maybe an email, maybe a comment. Thanks. It's fixed now and you can see a sample of what's to come in the near future. Okay. See you tomorrow with my report on aliens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps so you'll have to tell me if I missed something embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-ZAck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2273827492671713148?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2273827492671713148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/really-guys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2273827492671713148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2273827492671713148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/really-guys.html' title='Really guys?'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2008129711477160119</id><published>2010-02-09T09:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:01:23.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini post!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't know if you all noticed, but the public galleries have a bunch of pictures that I uploaded a couple weeks ago. if you haven't, then go ahead and look at a bunch of pictures that I may or may not have meant to put up on the internet. It's cool, though, because there are no names and there are merely happy (maybe slightly drunk) faces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, winter is here in my towns (finally) and I've been slogging through the snow for the past couple days. Yesterday was pretty bad because the snow was falling and there was a lack of snowplow or salt truck on the road. It's better now, possibly because everything is melting. This would also be a great time to mention that walking what I'm assuming to be half a km up a hill is super hard when it's covered in snow and ice. I have taken pictures and will be putting them up onto the internet in due time. It's quite beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I'm going to go lie down now because I spent the last 45 minutes doing a ton of chores, including handwashing a ton of shirts and socks. As it turns out, it doesn't matter how small the space is when you're washing socks. You will lose them. It's some kind of astral law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing: I may or may not have run out of Bulgaria/PC things to write about. In my head at least. I want you all to start asking questions and whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and gee are my legs tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2008129711477160119?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2008129711477160119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/mini-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2008129711477160119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2008129711477160119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/02/mini-post.html' title='Mini post!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1899542658324350338</id><published>2010-01-27T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T08:30:00.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's part 3! The one in which I go to the Wild West!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey Everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the third and theoretically final installment of my New Year’s Eve stuff. Today I’ve decided to write as little as possible and just post a bunch of pictures cataloging my day. A picture is worth a thousand words so I’ve got like a novella over here. It was just Me, Anna and Sasha for most of the day because Suzie and Jared never made it. Boo to you guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are Anna and Sasha. We hung out all day today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wZw_54h_I/AAAAAAAABpg/LEMfpZo9e_U/s1600-h/DSC01590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wZw_54h_I/AAAAAAAABpg/LEMfpZo9e_U/s320/DSC01590.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430243580280604658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving the hostel we went for a walk through the park:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1waJDDfYgI/AAAAAAAABpo/dqoRPXywv1E/s1600-h/DSC01591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1waJDDfYgI/AAAAAAAABpo/dqoRPXywv1E/s320/DSC01591.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430243993443066370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a statue of what I believe to be revolutionaries:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wbW6pQ3nI/AAAAAAAABpw/Dcjzt5bcZSo/s1600-h/DSC01597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wbW6pQ3nI/AAAAAAAABpw/Dcjzt5bcZSo/s320/DSC01597.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430245331215375986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this was made on the side of it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wb69N29GI/AAAAAAAABp4/DehOkdN9CUQ/s1600-h/DSC01595.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wb69N29GI/AAAAAAAABp4/DehOkdN9CUQ/s320/DSC01595.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430245950381028450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls wanted to go ice skating so after a big loop around the park we came upon the biggest ice skating rink in the Balkans:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wcYkIVg2I/AAAAAAAABqA/Z3CoNSvT2bo/s1600-h/DSC01601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wcYkIVg2I/AAAAAAAABqA/Z3CoNSvT2bo/s320/DSC01601.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430246459043054434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty big, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1we3osWLvI/AAAAAAAABqI/fSCvGNzssC4/s1600-h/DSC01602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1we3osWLvI/AAAAAAAABqI/fSCvGNzssC4/s320/DSC01602.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430249191867035378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad it’s not:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1we4P0mhsI/AAAAAAAABqQ/8TYqtMWYpZQ/s1600-h/DSC01600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1we4P0mhsI/AAAAAAAABqQ/8TYqtMWYpZQ/s320/DSC01600.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430249202370643650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty underwhelming so we went off in search of the Book Fair! But we got marginally side tracked by the concert preparations. Anna and I would be here later that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whCUylztI/AAAAAAAABqY/iuKwvpoeNQA/s1600-h/DSC01608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whCUylztI/AAAAAAAABqY/iuKwvpoeNQA/s320/DSC01608.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430251574526332626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then something crazy happened… We found Chinatown: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whCxLNylI/AAAAAAAABqg/DZqYP9DwNKY/s1600-h/DSC01609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whCxLNylI/AAAAAAAABqg/DZqYP9DwNKY/s320/DSC01609.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430251582145808978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we eventually found the Book Fair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whDHk24sI/AAAAAAAABqo/g8VLnmOhWIc/s1600-h/DSC01610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1whDHk24sI/AAAAAAAABqo/g8VLnmOhWIc/s320/DSC01610.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430251588158939842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, Anna was pretty excited about this thing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16y3jpwp-I/AAAAAAAABqw/lSG3ojH4TC8/s1600-h/DSC01615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16y3jpwp-I/AAAAAAAABqw/lSG3ojH4TC8/s320/DSC01615.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430974868188342242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to show you guys how to spell McDonalds in Cyrillic:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16y4AlEC3I/AAAAAAAABq4/0JwSlhkGwHY/s1600-h/DSC01618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16y4AlEC3I/AAAAAAAABq4/0JwSlhkGwHY/s320/DSC01618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430974875953269618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that, we came back to the hostel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wS5KAsNNI/AAAAAAAABpY/zkcJxxed2zs/s1600-h/DSC01584.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wS5KAsNNI/AAAAAAAABpY/zkcJxxed2zs/s320/DSC01584.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430236023851070674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s the inside of the lobby:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16182P69vI/AAAAAAAABrI/Xt6Fhu-Ibis/s1600-h/DSC01687.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16182P69vI/AAAAAAAABrI/Xt6Fhu-Ibis/s320/DSC01687.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430978257614468850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say here that this place is super hard to find if you don’t know want you’re looking for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1618kZi91I/AAAAAAAABrA/_RgUCFKCB8c/s1600-h/DSC01686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1618kZi91I/AAAAAAAABrA/_RgUCFKCB8c/s320/DSC01686.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430978252823000914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we just kind of chilled out for a couple hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[picture missing]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there were more PCV’s!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[picture missing]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we fought dragons!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[picture missing]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to see Avatar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[picture not worth taking]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the near future, I’m going to go off on Avatar because I’m angry at that movie. That awful, awful movie. But after that we went to an Indian restaurant. Even more after that, we wandered around the city trying to see what other events were taking place other than the one at the concert area. We did not find a place, so we perched ourselves on a wall in a conveniently escapable point. Anna got pudding for dessert:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S167BRUUxMI/AAAAAAAABrQ/qMldKgkRGLw/s1600-h/DSC01625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S167BRUUxMI/AAAAAAAABrQ/qMldKgkRGLw/s320/DSC01625.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430983831158310082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there were a TON of people there:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1699iVMoCI/AAAAAAAABrw/iV6NXMBdNaw/s1600-h/DSC01638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1699iVMoCI/AAAAAAAABrw/iV6NXMBdNaw/s320/DSC01638.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430987065540780066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1699Y4_7gI/AAAAAAAABro/AWbLFLEaPyg/s1600-h/DSC01632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1699Y4_7gI/AAAAAAAABro/AWbLFLEaPyg/s320/DSC01632.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430987063006588418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16987Qma2I/AAAAAAAABrg/9Wih91iVPJU/s1600-h/DSC01630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16987Qma2I/AAAAAAAABrg/9Wih91iVPJU/s320/DSC01630.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430987055052516194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Including this awesome guy: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S167BuMJuHI/AAAAAAAABrY/gLPOuamC0AY/s1600-h/DSC01628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S167BuMJuHI/AAAAAAAABrY/gLPOuamC0AY/s320/DSC01628.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430983838908659826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was pretty great. They had a big Bulgarian pop star and a big Bulgarian folk group performing and it was amazing to see the crowd react better to the folk group. To be fair, though, the folk group WAS the better performance. Anyways, there were of course fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AG8KqTrI/AAAAAAAABsY/Nuf5MzdjSHI/s1600-h/DSC01675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AG8KqTrI/AAAAAAAABsY/Nuf5MzdjSHI/s320/DSC01675.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430989426117988018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AGe7Y_aI/AAAAAAAABsQ/p0nsIr90kzM/s1600-h/DSC01674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AGe7Y_aI/AAAAAAAABsQ/p0nsIr90kzM/s320/DSC01674.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430989418269310370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AGPwgV6I/AAAAAAAABsI/ruqagptqUP8/s1600-h/DSC01673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AGPwgV6I/AAAAAAAABsI/ruqagptqUP8/s320/DSC01673.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430989414197122978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AFlDBpHI/AAAAAAAABsA/fbEPA2FbiEg/s1600-h/DSC01668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S17AFlDBpHI/AAAAAAAABsA/fbEPA2FbiEg/s320/DSC01668.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430989402732078194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little after this, we struggled through the crowd and arrived back in the hostel for a well deserved rest because we had a morning train the next day. Here’s the last photo of the trip: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16-j0tQ7NI/AAAAAAAABr4/3SpWXh7WEys/s1600-h/DSC01688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S16-j0tQ7NI/AAAAAAAABr4/3SpWXh7WEys/s320/DSC01688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430987723308592338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll catch you guys later and hopefully this thing will upload properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and writing over 25000 words isn’t so hard apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1899542658324350338?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1899542658324350338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-part-3-one-in-which-i-go-to.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1899542658324350338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1899542658324350338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-part-3-one-in-which-i-go-to.html' title='New Year&apos;s part 3! The one in which I go to the Wild West!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wZw_54h_I/AAAAAAAABpg/LEMfpZo9e_U/s72-c/DSC01590.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-5506614923354124243</id><published>2010-01-26T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T08:30:01.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve Part 2</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey again everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s time for part two of the New Years thing. We’ll start from the evening before the 30th because this is where we introduce another character that will prove important to the next day. As a bit of a heads-up, this entry will be like the middle installment in a trilogy: things happen of no consequence. Tomorrow’s entry will be much more interesting. Promise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got back to the Hostel around 9:30ish. I went up to my room and figured that I’d get to bed. Who would I see, other than a familiar face? Actually, I only sort of recognized the face. I met her at the Halloween Party… that didn’t happen. I mean that I could’ve met her at the Halloween Party? So how could I have recognized her if the party never happened… I’ll just go with: I met her at some Peace Corps event. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after realizing that we were in the same hostel, we started talking and I found out (for a second time) that her name is Sasha. She’s part of the group of volunteers from before mine. I also met a couple guys from Singapore backpacking across the Middle-East/Eastern Europe. I also met a man from Germany doing something in Bulgaria, but he’s been here enough times to have been to my town at least twice. There was also a high-school senior from America who was vacationing in Bulgaria for one reason or another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, here’s a picture of the hostel I stayed in. It’s called Hostel Mostel and it’s apparently one of the best in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wS5KAsNNI/AAAAAAAABpY/zkcJxxed2zs/s1600-h/DSC01584.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wS5KAsNNI/AAAAAAAABpY/zkcJxxed2zs/s320/DSC01584.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430236023851070674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that seems underwhelming but it IS super freaking nice inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sasha was waiting for a few more people from her group to show up for New Year’s Eve and she was meeting a friend that evening for dinner. She had nothing else to do so I suggested that she come with me and Anna to do whatever it was we were going to do. Too bad we didn’t really have a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after Anna arrived the next morning, we figured out the plan as follows: First to the PC HQ for medical stuff and reading material. Next to the mall for lunch and the chance to walk around that side of town. Then to see Shelock Holmes (great movie btw). Then to meet Sasha’s friend for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All except the last part are pretty self-explanatory. Because of this, I’ll just skip to the real adventure: dinner. Somehow, we came to the decision that we wanted Thai food. Remember how I told you about that curse of mine a couple months ago? Well it turns out it might have played a part in us wandering around the south end of Sofia for 2 hours without ever finding this restaurant. Yeah. We walked up and down and went into at least 3 different hotels to figure out where the restaurant is. We also got lost a couple times (one of which was most certainly my fault). There were fire dancers. It was almost a good time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we did come upon a restaurant that could’ve been the place. Too bad it was too expensive for our lifestyles. Or something like that. I don’t really remember why we left. Instead we went across the street to the mall and went to a nice Italian place. I also saw kids playing Rock Band. It occurred to me I haven’t played video games on a TV screen in about 7 months. That’s 8 months now. It’s been a while for me. Maybe my hands will actually develop into people hands rather than grabbing claws made to fit a Nintendo control. (One more side note: I just typed Nintendo in lower case and MSWord capitalized the ‘N’ for me. That’s pretty great.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my New Year’s Eve Eve was pretty fun. A lot of walking around in a city I haven’t had any experience in. A lot of meeting new people. A lot of me not taking pictures. I remedied that on the next day. So that means catch me tomorrow when I'll show you a bunch of pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and we don’t have the money to sit in your crazy expensive Middle-Eastern restaurant you crazy people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-5506614923354124243?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/5506614923354124243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-eve-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5506614923354124243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/5506614923354124243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-eve-part-2.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve Part 2'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/S1wS5KAsNNI/AAAAAAAABpY/zkcJxxed2zs/s72-c/DSC01584.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-6898166065961040158</id><published>2010-01-25T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T08:30:01.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve Part 1</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let’s talk about New Year’s week.  I wanted to take a bunch of pictures but it turns out I forgot my camera for everyday except the last one. But when you think about it, it’s the day that counts, right? The idea for these next few posts is to put out 3 on consecutive days because each day was pretty packed with stuff. So here’s how it went down starting with the 29th…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 29&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up for the first convenient train out of town. I had to pick up the tickets for the ballet we were going to attend. That last sentence requires me to back up a couple weeks I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the couple weeks leading up to New Years were a bit of a confusing time. I was teaching small children everyday, I had tests from my regular classes to correct, I had to do traveling, I had an injured ankle, and my Christmas plans were suddenly (but understandably) changed… Lots of stuff was happening. That’s why I’m pretty thankful Anna, another volunteer from my group, was able to take the reins on the whole New Years thing. She suggested we hang out in Sofia for a few days and take in the sights. One of those ‘sights’ included the National Bulgarian Ballet’s performance of The Nutcracker, or, if you’re Bulgarian, Leshnikotroshachkata. (A quick aside, that word sucks to read for the first time. It’s 17 Cyrillic letters and 7 syllables with accents tossed in there seemingly willy-nilly.) It was the Christmas season so we decided that it was all or nothing with the tickets. We bought the 40 leva tickets for 5th row seats. It. Was. Awesome. But more on that in a minute. (Another quick aside: I had McDonalds for the first time in a few months. It was pretty great. Well the fries were. I apparently missed fast food.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first I needed to pick up the tickets. After checking in at the hostel, I got directions to go to the ticket vendor, which wasn’t the theatre in case you were wondering. In fact, this place was in the garage area of another building on the other side of the city. It was so on the other side of the city that the tram I was on went up a hill and through a forest. Seeing as Sofia is the most populated and urban city in Bulgaria, you can imagine the confusion of having to go through the woods on the edge of town. I did manage to pick up the tickets rather easily. Once I got there it wasn’t a big problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I went back to the hostel to meet up with Anna. Her mom had been visiting for a few days and they were sightseeing and shopping. I was intrigued by the former but definitely wary of the latter. I went with them anyway. Turns out, their “Sightseeing” was closer to “Looking for boots while conveniently turning up in pretty places”. It was a long afternoon. Anyways, after a few hours of… this… I went back to the hostel to change because there’s no way in hell I’m going to the opera’s 5th row and not dress in at least a jacket and tie, especially for the National ballet of an Eastern European country. You may think otherwise, but this is how I show my respect to the dancers/musicians. I’d also expect that my music teachers back at home would cringe at the site of me in blue jeans sitting 5th row, center at a ballet. Regardless, we were early so we had dinner at the restaurant next door. I had the squid ink spaghetti. It was pretty freaking awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ballet itself was great but I forgot that there were characters conceived as “Chinese Doll” and “Indian Doll”. The costumes quickly reminded me of that. Another quick aside: do we Asians walk around everywhere with one finger in the air? I don’t remember ever doing that but for some reason the choreographers decided that Chinese people stand idly as such. Maybe it’s the symbolize us counting stuff. I have no idea. Back to the topic: the dancing was fantastic. There was a moment at the beginning when I realized I was watching the National Ballet (I will be bringing this point up several times, possibly just to brag) of a foreign country in prime seats. I was pretty psyched about that. The music was great and everything was about as I expected. Except that the nutcracker changed dancers about a third through the program. There was the dancer for the nutcracker doll, and another for the nutcracker person. We could tell because they were different genders. Anna and I both agreed that the reaction was along the lines of “Huh. Those weren’t there before.” But whatever. Two thumbs up for The Nutcracker! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One final quick story before the 30th: walking through the streets of Sofia alone in the dark is marginally scary. I don’t have anything else to say on that manner I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and there will be opportunities for awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-6898166065961040158?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/6898166065961040158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-eve-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6898166065961040158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6898166065961040158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-eve-part-1.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve Part 1'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1250032556759682979</id><published>2010-01-19T10:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T10:41:59.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas '09</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Storytime again folks. I'm sorry about the somewhat repetitive consistency of the posts but the 3 day New Year's post will be at least a little different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I want to talk about Christmas. It’s been one, let me tell you. I guess the real question here is what sorts of things Bulgarians do during the holiday. Either that, or what I did over the holiday. I guess I can talk about both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing to note, though, is that Christmas is a 3-day celebration in Bulgaria. Not some pansy go-to-sleep-then-wake-up-and-open-presents-then-complain-then-go-back-to-sleep-then-wake-up-and-go-to-work sort of deal. It’s more like go-to-sleep-then-wake-up-and-open-presents-then-complain-then-go-back-to-sleep-then-wake-up-and-continue-eating-and-drinking sorts of holiday. So first I’ll present what Bulgarian traditions are then I’ll write about what I did. I spent the Christmas with my counterpart so I suspect that a lot of it will be “Yup. Did that.” Also, I’m very much abbreviating what Bulgarians do. Mainly because I can’t bother looking for the research I did regarding the Bulgarian Christmas traditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dec. 24th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulgaria: They eat only vegetarian this day. It’s a lot of rice, stuffed peppers and cabbage. Then they leave the food out for their visiting ancestral spirits. They also bake this giant dinner roll in which there is a coin. They break off pieces from the main roll and whoever gets the coin will have a lucky year. I think it might be fiscally lucky but don’t quote me on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zack: Yup. Did that. Well really everything except that part with leaving the food out. I don’t really know if they did that. I also watched Home Alone. It’s really weird to think it’s been 20 years since the movie first came out. Holy crap. I feel kinda old now. I also drank homemade wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dec. 25th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulgaria: Bring on the meat! Yeah there are presents and whatever, and holiday cheer but there’s meat after a vegetarian meal! As a side note, Santa Clause is called ‘Dyado Kolada’ or Father Christmas here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zack: Yup. Did that too. We had roast turkey and turkey with cabbage and blood sausage (which was pretty good) and other good foods. We also watched Home Alone 2. Macaulay Culkin (sp?) was a cute little kid and he looked like a bunch of the kids I taught the month before. I also drank more homemade wine. OH! And I got peed on by a little girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dec. 26th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulgaria: Another big meal. Sadly I don’t really know the lore behind the 26th but who’s going to turn down a good meal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zack: Changing it up here: Did that. Yup. But seriously, I had dinner at another colleague’s house. I didn’t know it before, but I taught her son in my 2nd grade class. But more good food, I suspect leftovers from the night before (not that there’s anything wrong with more turkey and blood sausage). I drank even more homemade wine. And homemade rakia. You may remember me telling you about that months ago. Strong stuff there. I also watched some movie with a young Lindsay Lohan and Tyra Banks. Something about a Barbie doll coming to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dec. 27th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn’t part of the 3 days of Christmas but I wanted to put it out there because it was spent with my counterpart. It was her birthday and she invited me over for dinner. We all sat ate, drank and talked. There was also cake. Not much more to say about it except that there was more homemade wine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see, my Christmas was pretty great. Lots of food and wine. I wanted to have a traditional Christmas holiday before I left. I never expected that it would be the first Christmas here. Next time it’ll be about New Year’s and there’s nothing traditional about what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and we love our holidays. I mean, we ARE a government organization, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1250032556759682979?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1250032556759682979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-09.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1250032556759682979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1250032556759682979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-09.html' title='Christmas &apos;09'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1798179766354390187</id><published>2010-01-12T07:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T07:59:30.352-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving '09!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this time I’ll be taking a few steps back to tell you all about what I did for Thanksgiving. I wanted to write this post way long ago but I got sidetracked by the whole primary teaching thing and put it off. I think if I put it off anymore then I might just forget everything about the holiday altogether. That being said, my memory is not completely flawless. I tend to make things up and take them as truth vehemently. But if someone who was there reads this and wants to make a correction then please call me out. I’d appreciate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the Thanksgiving with a married couple Mike and Lynn in a nearby big city. They are in a pretty central location so they invited a whole bunch of us to their apartment for turkey and whatever else is served during Thanksgiving. They had a great day planned ahead for us and once we all gathered it was time to go crazy. By crazy I just mean that we climbed a hill. This was crazy for me because if you think back this was a couple weeks after falling out of a bathtub. My ankle hadn’t completely recovered. I still went though even though everyone was more or less concerned about my lack of concern. I thought to myself, “This is a beautiful day and I’ll be damned if I don’t go on this walk. In fact, I expect my ankle to be the size of a grapefruit by the time I’m done here.” I might be a masochist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, the walk to the top of the hill was easy and beautiful. From the top you could see almost the entire city and you would’ve been able to if there hadn’t been a haze of smog in the distance. You could also see the other hilltops scattered around the city. It was pretty awesome. I’ll need to upload those pictures some other time. We also came to the conclusion that a little snack stand at the top of the hill would be very well placed. The trip up was nice and easy with only a couple steep slopes to worry about. It was the trip down that became a great adventure. We started taking little shortcuts in the paths to get to the bottom a little quicker. The shortcuts were basically little paths trod out by people who didn’t want to walk around and around the hill. Then we found another little path that seemed to be one of these shortcuts. It was not. It was merely a space in between bushes that descended slowly at first. That slow descent quickly degraded into a slope that the safest way down could be described as “Sliding on your ass” but it was really fun. My ankle took a couple hits here and there but for the most part it was pretty exciting trying to not tumble down a rocky incline. After this, we took an alternate trip back to their apartment that let us see other parts of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me take this opportunity to talk about their apartment now. They have a terrible, awful apartment. It has stupid stuff like a full-sized fridge and washing machine. The apartment is marred by crap like a dishwasher and it certainly loses points for having climate control. I hate their apartment so much. It was too comfortable. It made me forget I was in Bulgaria. Damn their apartment. Damn it to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the story now. After we returned from our trip we all settled in their living room and played games and helped cook. I didn’t help cook. I’m not good at that sort of thing and there were at least 5 people in there. Also, their kitchen looked like something out of a Skymall catalog. I hate Skymall. That evening, the thirteen of us sat around their table and enjoyed a pretty good meal with two turkeys. It seems that we were bad at the whole eating thing so we were only able to effectively consume one of the turkeys. Shame on us. Even afterer, we played a very rousing game of Uno. I don’t think I’m remembering this properly but I recall it getting violent and that people started shouting and a sword was involved. The more I reread that sentence, the more incorrect it looks. Oh well, I’m leaving it in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then watched a movie, and had a big sleepover in their terrible living room. I mean, it could barely hold all five of us on the ground! (My apartment looks sad whenever I think about their apartment.) I left about midday after that because I had a bunch of tests to correct but it was a damn good Thanksgiving. Biggest thanks to Mike and Lynn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that more or less concludes my kinda abbreviated account of my Thanksgiving. The next couple posts will be in the same vein, discussing the Christmas and New Years and what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated normally where you serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1798179766354390187?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1798179766354390187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/thanksgiving-09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1798179766354390187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1798179766354390187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/thanksgiving-09.html' title='Thanksgiving &apos;09!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3036697404742632578</id><published>2010-01-05T07:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T08:00:40.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the hell was I?</title><content type='html'>Oh wait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about the lack of posts the last month and a half. I’ve been pretty busy with, really, everything. But on the bright side, I have at least 4 posts (including this one) to share (and write) with you and I’ll hopefully be able to get them out every week or so. With the apologies out of the way, let me get on with the excuses…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not going to lie: the last month was one of the hardest, but most fulfilling months since I’ve been here. Let me rephrase that. The first week of the last month was one of the hardest weeks since I’ve been here and that’s led to one of the most fulfilling. Essentially, a lot of stuff happened and I flaked on writing blog posts. Sorry about that. Anyways, last week was the first time I properly felt like a teacher. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been teaching since I’ve gotten here but a lot of the time it’s been with one of my colleagues and it isn’t often that I get to take the reins with a single class. Last month I got to teach all of the 2nd through 4th graders English. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The primary teacher for English in one of my towns got very sick and the doctor told her to take some time off. I happen to be the designated pinch hitter in these situations so I was given all of the English classes that she taught. There were 6 of them (2 each from 2nd to 4th) and there were around 20 kids in each class. It is safe to say that they were not the best behaved students I’ve seen. Certainly not the worst, though. I’d have to say that my 3rd grade class that got a teacher to quit due to a chemical imbalance in her head may have been the worst. In case you didn’t understand, that’s the 3rd grade class I was in when I was whatever age you’re in when you’re in 3rd grade in Jamaica. She went craaaazy. But I digress. I was essentially teaching them all the back half of the unit they working on so it was pretty rewarding when I gave them a test at the end of it and they seemed to understand at least half of the material. I couldn’t tell you which half was mine, but none of the kids failed the tests. Or at least failed in the Bulgarian sense. I’ll need to discuss the grading system here at a later date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the kids were completely psyched that they had the American (or Englishman depending on how much they knew about me) and they loved getting little sticker rewards. Kept them in control and kept me a little saner. The kids also had the great habit of boosting my self-esteem by telling me that I’m a great teacher and that they would like me to teach them more. One little girl found me yesterday as I was walking home and said that she missed me. That was adorable. But all good things must come to an end and their teacher has recovered and is now teaching them again. I’m not wishing anyone ill but I wouldn’t mind teaching half of those classes because really only half of those classes gave me any problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that was my month. I spent it teaching small children via stickers and pantomime. That last part was a lot of improvisation. Got me pretty tired at the end of the day but it was fun. I’m also pretty tired right now. It might be from the teaching, it might be from the vacation. It’s probably from the vacation going into the teaching. You guys know what I’m talking about. Next time you see a post, it'll be a really late one on a certain holiday that Americans celebrate with turkey. Which holiday you ask? Why Columbus Day, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and upon reaching your site your job description means nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3036697404742632578?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3036697404742632578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/where-hell-was-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3036697404742632578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3036697404742632578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2010/01/where-hell-was-i.html' title='Where the hell was I?'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3669402325899316773</id><published>2009-11-19T09:03:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T10:16:41.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Which I Discover My Curse</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m pretty relaxed right now, gang! “But why, Zack?” you may ask. “You are a stranger in a strange land with strange people talking a strange language! I would be freaking out!” Well I got to admit that this was most certainly the case when I first arrived. But this has nothing to do with culture. In fact, I blame my lowered shoulders and dazed look on the swine flu. You know what? Let me backtrack a little bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you all probably know, there’s something of a problem going on with the whole flu thing. In Bulgaria it’s more of the same. We have officially classed it as an epidemic. It’s something of a big thing here. We call it Svinsky Grip (or pig flu). Well this last week the government had us do something called a Gripa Vacancia. It is exactly as it sounds. The pig flu has gotten to the point where the government has to close down all the schools. Because of that, I had an entire week where I got to do nothing. I feel for the children with flu all over the country but I have to admit that a week-long break felt pretty good. Did some sleeping, did some traveling, did some studying… Good times were had by most. I say ‘most’ because small children were sick with the flu. After that, I then had to attend a conference in Plovdiv (one of the largest cities in Bulgaria) for a conference debriefing us on our first 6 months (HOLY CRAP IT’S BEEN 6 MONTHS!). That was another 3 days of my virtual vacation. It was great to see all my friends and get in touch with the gossip. As it turns out, however, I might have developed something of a reputation within a select portion of our group. My reputation: cursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have unknowingly garnered a small amount of attention regarding my somewhat (read: very) eventful experiences. I guess it started with my tales about my host site where I was the only one in my group to have a Turkish toilet in the chicken coop. I spent many afternoons staring at them through the holes in the door. And they spent the same number (if not more) staring back. You can’t see me doing it, but I’m shaking my fist in their direction. Next came my journey to Sofia for my TEFL refresher. You can read that here: &lt;a href="http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-worst-morning.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Good times. Next I had a bit of a trip when I was returning home from my Warden training (I’ll return to this topic at a later date when I figure out how to make it interesting). Essentially, I got on a 3 hour late train to Serbia. That sentence seems rather absurd to me when I reread it. “I got on a 3 hour late train to Serbia.” Next would’ve been my apparent hunger strike on my way to the town of [town name withheld] and back for the Halloween Party THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN! Finally, on Monday night, I nearly killed myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe not ‘nearly killed myself’. I don’t know for sure if I’d have died. I know that I would’ve had the equivalent impact of a 180 lb guy hitting his head on a toilet, though. So here’s what happened. The conference in Plovdiv took place from Sunday to Wednesday morning and hosted as many of the volunteers and counterparts (the local partners to the volunteers) as could come. Monday night, a whole bunch of us, I think the final count was 50 volunteers and counterparts, got together to go bowling. The bowling alley was actually more like a club with bowling lanes in it. There was even a scantily clad lady dancing in a cage in the middle of the room amongst a laser light show. It was pretty awesome. Anyways, I had a couple drinks (I’m a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol) and around 12 me and my roommate headed back to the hotel. When we returned, I decided to take a shower to get the cigarette smoke smell off of my body. I turn the shower on, and realized that I left the shampoo by the sink. I step out and my right ankle rotates violently due to my slight lack of balance and my wetness. The next thing I know, there’s a sharp, intense pain coming from my ankle and I’m staring at my reflection in the trash can. I might have also cursed very loudly. As it turns out, my head was about a few inches away from the wall, toilet and trash can. If I had gotten out of the tub (which was inexplicably at least 6 inches off the ground as well) in any other spot, I would’ve hit my head on something and almost certainly had a concussion. I looked something like this except with much more naked on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/SwVRNoDf_GI/AAAAAAAABmc/V1HN3n-68RE/s1600/me+on+the+floor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/SwVRNoDf_GI/AAAAAAAABmc/V1HN3n-68RE/s320/me+on+the+floor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405816222260395106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would not have been a fun night. Anyways, after assessing whatever damage my body might’ve taken, I took one more look into the trash can to see my pathetic body lying there, then finished taking a shower. I stepped outside and my roommate was on his computer watching the Eagles game from the Sunday before. “Did you fall inside there?” he asked nonchalantly. “Why yes. Yes, I did indeed fall.” I replied matter-of-factly. Chris, if you're reading this, we're still friends and this in no way will affect that. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, though, my friends. Since I missed every distinctly cornered surface with my body, I merely twisted my ankle, pulled a muscle in my shoulder from the way I landed on it, and pulled a muscle in neck because my head made a very non-safe jerking motion when I hit the ground. That last one actually scares me a little. I showed the doctors my ankle and they gave me a bandage and some painkillers. They also told me not to run for a few weeks. That might be funny for a few of you because, as you may know, I lead a very relaxed and slow-paced life. I love not running. To be fair, though, it does stop me from walking up and down unnecessary hills. I am a little bummed out by this one. I might need to sit out the Thanksgiving hike. We’ll see where my ankle is in a week. Anyways, that was how I spent my flu vacation. I hope the rest of you are doing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and there was a chance that the previous post could’ve been the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: For all intents and purposes, I'm still not convinced I'm cursed. Instead, I'd like to say I'm super lucky that I didn't die/found my way to the PC office/didn't go to Serbia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3669402325899316773?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3669402325899316773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-which-i-discover-my-curse.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3669402325899316773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3669402325899316773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-which-i-discover-my-curse.html' title='In Which I Discover My Curse'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qs-ogWnWgX0/SwVRNoDf_GI/AAAAAAAABmc/V1HN3n-68RE/s72-c/me+on+the+floor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8504400179248608835</id><published>2009-11-01T23:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T23:51:52.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Story</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for the lack of posts the last couple weeks but I have got a pretty good one for you. I’m about to tell you all a story about a real place but of an event that may or may not have happened: Something fitting, if not a little late, for Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story takes place in the Bulgarian town of [town name withheld]. The town has a unique energy about it due to it being built underneath an ancient fortress that can be dated to back before the Turkish rule. Also, [town name withheld] is a central point in the Northern Central region in Bulgaria. So we could say that if one were to hold a Halloween party here it would be a reasonably simple (if not easy) journey to undertake for most of the volunteers we have in Bulgaria. But we don’t hold parties there. We would never do that. It would be irresponsible of us to do that. What I posit before you now, however, is what I believe my weekend would be like if I decided to spend it at a party on that end of Bulgaria. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I’d be worried about going alone. By nature I’m not much of a partygoer. So it would certainly be a help if someone were to go with me. Perhaps two very good friends in the area could suggest that they were going and that I should tag along. That would be reason enough to go. So since it was their idea, I guess it would also be their itinerary as well. As it turns out, all of us in this region were pretty busy this week so if we went it would have been the first thing on the morning of the party and we would return on the first train back out of [town name withheld]. Now of course this sort schedule would be insanely taxing but I would (hopefully) figure that I might as well go now so that could help the B-26’s coming in next year if they ever wanted to head up that end. Not to mention this would be a great time to see as many of my friends in costumes and potentially compromising positions as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as it turns out, this trip from here to [town name withheld] is about 6-7 hours long by train if you’re lucky. It would certainly be a great idea to bring some snacks for the trip if at all possible. Too bad my fantasy is particularly cruel here and I forgot to bring any substantial food. Luckily, I like to assume the best of my companions, so in this case my friends have both baked cookies and cake for the trip. Optimistic, I know, but miracles can happen. Another friend would also join us halfway down the road making us a pretty solid foursome. Unfortunately, I think it would be a pretty safe bet to say that cookies and cake does not a meal make. I think it wouldn’t be a particularly far stretch to imagine that we’d getting pretty hungry around this time. I was told, once, that there is a great restaurant in [town name withheld] called St. Georges and that they have actual beef burgers. Unfortunately, this sort of thing is a bit of a commodity so if something unfortunate happened, like partygoers who have been there from the morning before eating all of their beef, we’d be stuck with the normal ground pork. Let’s take this one step further and say that there were no more buns either. We could substitute that with a pita. So really, you’d have a soft shell taco. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking with my friends and they said that one great place to hold a party in [town name withheld] is in this particularly attractive hostel. Of course, if the party is held at a hostel that means that you could just stay at this hostel overnight. Too bad my pessimism won’t let that be so easy. I’m going to say that there are no more beds left so I’m stuck sleeping on a couch, in the living room, on the second floor, in the room with all of the table games. My brain is being particularly cruel right now. Not a problem though because it’s a party. I can worry about sleeping some other time. So I would probably start meeting old and new friends at the hostel and you know what could be fun? Something super American like American Football. But there’s no place in this fantasy for a field of reasonable size. Instead, I’ll replace green grass with asphalt, and the large grassy knoll on the side of the field with a large pile of rubble from what was probably some arbitrary building in the distant past. It doesn’t matter to me though. I’m the photographer! After about an hour of football, we retire back to the hostel where we get ready for the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what would be funny? If I put on a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts and went around acting as stereotypically and offensively Japanese as I could be. Like that episode of Seinfeld where Kramer houses all of the Japanese tourists in his apartment. I would be a Japanese tourist. That was a good episode. Of course my costume wouldn’t be particularly difficult. Perhaps you could call it creative, perhaps you could call it mildly inspired, but in the end it’s just me in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts with a camera. Or I could pick up a ukulele and be a Samoan. God knows I could be an offensively portrayed Samoan if I tried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let’s postulate on the party now. You know what would be cool? Several cases of beer. You know what would be awesome? A fridge specifically filled with only the several cases of beer AND an equal amount on the sidelines for when the first enormous batch were depleted. Whoever arranged this party could be considered brilliant if he could pull off both of these things. Also if he were able to estimate enough pizza to feed all those mouths he would be amazing. Hell, if he could just collect the money from all of the partygoers that would be amazing. That damn overachiever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m going to be optimistic here when I estimate that we could draw at least 60-80 of the volunteers from all over Bulgaria to this hostel. That means that there are at least 60-80 unique costumes to see. I bet I could see all sorts of awesome there like a guy who made the pajamas from Where the Wild Things Are out of a carpet, or a set of four guys who came in matching Ghostbusters outfits, or even the entire cast of Mad Men. It would also be a testament to the nerdiness of our group if I saw a pair dressed as Dr. Horrible and Captain Hammer or Chip and Dale from the Rescue Rangers cartoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I see myself doing the usual party stuff. Drinking a little, talking a little hanging out a little… but then I also see myself getting this enormous headache shortly before the majority of the people arrive. That means that if I take the pain killer then I wouldn’t be able to drink for some time. I’d probably do it. I’d rather be sober and in a good mood than drunk with a headache. Still though, after a few hours, I’d take my chances and drink a little more. But regardless, the night would need to end. Between my tiredness from travel and the early train trip home I’d need somewhere ELSE to stay because the hostel is most definitely going to have people till the wee hours. As it turns out, [town name withheld] has a ton of hostels because of the historical value and incredibly scenic placement. Hell, even if the room were completely occupied, I’d just sleep on the floor with my conveniently remembered, inconvenient sleeping bag. It can’t be a simple sleeping bag. My sleeping bag is really warm but the damn thing is nigh impossible to roll up properly without a physics major and a male masseuse. No matter though. I just need to find a nook to sleep in. I’d slide into my sleeping bag and use my heavy jacket wrapped up in my extra bedroll as a pillow. Too bad the jacket will be lumpy thus giving me terrible shoulder aches in the morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip back home would most certainly be a somber ride with reflections of the night before. And hunger. I bet that we’d be hungry again. I’m going to be SUPER optimistic and believe that my friend would have just enough cake left to give each of us one piece to keep us from starving before reaching home. Too bad my optimism will be repelled by pessimism. The train would probably have comfortable seats (as is the norm) but the heat will be turned up way too high making it nearly unbearable in there. I also bet that I’d have a pounding headache for at least 4 hours of the 6 hour trip home. But I’d get home and then write a blog post about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I hope you enjoyed my narrative on a party that could happen in [town name withheld]. Just remember that this was all hypothetical and that while it could happen, I’m not saying that it did. I’m just saying that one time is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and traveling 8 hours for a party is a norm if there actually were any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8504400179248608835?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8504400179248608835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8504400179248608835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8504400179248608835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-story.html' title='Halloween Story'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3547163739705018755</id><published>2009-10-01T10:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T10:37:36.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>School</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m sorry that it’s been a while since my last post. I’ve been trying to figure out what to talk about. But first I want to say that the photo albums have been updated and there are a bunch of old and new pictures in the private and public galleries. If you want to see the private gallery, just send me an email and we’ll do some talkin’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this week, I want to tell you all what I’ve been doing for the last two weeks. I’ve been teaching. When school started, the directors of both schools thought it prudent to have me team teaching the main courses for the day while I solo teach the after school lessons in the afternoon. I was a little frustrated at first because I was looking forward to solo teaching, but as I participated in the first week of classes, I’d be lying if I didn’t find myself a little overwhelmed by the amount of Bulgarian I would’ve needed. So my heartfelt thanks go out to Galya and Nina. As for what I do in class, I tend to teach a portion of the lesson for the day. Usually this deals with going over the homework or the recitals of the vocabulary for the sake of pronunciation. The kids generally take to this pretty well and I have a pretty bright bunch of students. In Town 1, I’m teaching the 6th, 8th and 9th grades and in Town 2 I’m teaching 4th through 7th. As it sounds, I have a lot of work but at the same time, I have a lot of tiring fun. One thing to note, though, is that next Tuesday, I might have a very busy day where I’ll be solo teaching 5 classes. It’s going to either be a whole ton of fun, or simply hell. Who knows? One of the classes hasn’t even met me officially. At the least, I’m sure it’ll be a very long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know it’s not much compared to the last couple entries I’ve made but it’s a pretty good summary of the last two weeks. I’ve been spending my free time relaxing and hand-washing my laundry. That last part has worn out its novelty. Anyways that’s it for today. Remember: I’ve updated both private and public photo galleries. Talk to me for access to the private. The link to the public is right in the top right of my blog. Also, I figure it’d be a good time for any questions. If I get enough, I can make an entire post out of those and you guys would be doing most of my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and you can’t always get what you want, but if you try some time you’ll find you get what you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3547163739705018755?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3547163739705018755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/10/school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3547163739705018755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3547163739705018755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/10/school.html' title='School'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1831956347796693066</id><published>2009-09-14T10:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T10:39:56.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bulgarian Birthday Blog... Bost?</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry about that last title word. I so wanted an alliteration.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as many of you know, last Friday was my birthday. Because of that, I’ve decided that this post will be about my birthday and Bulgarian birthdays in general. But first, I’d like to say that Jill said that there would be a chair lift. More on that in a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in Bulgaria, there is a bit of a reversal of roles. Instead of everyone giving the birthday person presents, the birthday person gives away things. I spent that day walking around my school in Town #2 handing out little pieces of chocolate from a box I had purchased that morning. It’s a much more fulfilling experience, actually. It’s like Christmas-lite. There’s also the potential of a nice dinner at your home with friends or out at a restaurant. But if you go to a restaurant, be ready to pay for all of the meals there. Finally, one other thing of note about a Bulgarian birthday is that they don’t fuck around with their birthday candles. I don’t know if it’s regional (as in Bulgarian or Eastern European or just European) but the candles are literally stationary fireworks set into a cake. It’s like two fountains of sparks erupting out of a couple sticks. So in Bulgaria, you light use Roman candles instead of those piddly little wax ones in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my own birthday, that Friday was pretty uneventful compared to my Saturday. On Friday, I went to work, gave out chocolates and came back to my apartment. That evening, my counterpart in Town #1 invited me over to her house for dinner. I played with her 3-year old daughter who also had a birthday that week. My counterpart gave me a nice photo album and a picture frame as a gift. I’m currently in the process of figuring out which photos I want to put in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, however, was a much different story. I would go as far as calling it a cross-cultural adventure at risk of sounding particularly corny. So the idea was to visit Sofia and take a trip to the Vitosha mountains. When it was suggested, I thought it was a pretty good idea and Jill mentioned something about a chair lift to the top. So when I arrived in Sofia, Jill, Carolyn, Whitney and I started on a long series of tram rides to the base of the mountain. During the tram rides, we met a small child who after watching and listening to us jabber along in English shouted to us, “You’re American and I’m American too!” As it turns out, his mother is Bulgarian but she had a job in Los Angeles for some time where her son was born. We all had a good laugh and exchanged phone numbers. It took another 10 minutes to reach what we didn’t know was our stop but we realized after the tram a 180 degree turn. After a short climb to a restaurant, we discovered that there was no chair lift that Jill had previously mentioned. Instead, we decided to attempt to make the long trek to the top. I would like to mention at this point that I am very out of shape. A decently long gentle slope is enough to send me packing. Thankfully, after I generously estimated about 20 minutes of climbing we found a small campsite with benches that had a used campfire pit. I called it a day and I decided to stop. Whitney also made the wise decision that the climb was beyond her power and together we set up a base camp for our troupe. Before they left, we made sure to mention that we’d have joined them if there had been a chair lift. Some 10-15 minutes later, a group of 3 high school students from Sofia came down the path and met us at the camp site. We spoke a little and they asked if they could start a fire. It seemed to be the appropriate thing to do as we were not utilizing the given resources. We helped them gather some dry branches and sticks and what have you and after we got a fire going, they pulled out some pork steaks. To cook them, they found a big flat rock a little further into the forest and used that as their makeshift frying pan. They didn’t even wash it. After they were finally set up, they began to offer us their extra food. They had some potato salad-esque side dish, a large baguette and an extra steak that Whitney and I split. We spent the next 2 hours chatting with these kids as we waited for Jill and Carolyn to descend. That it actually took 2 hours makes me really really glad that I didn’t go. The kids spoke really great English. They mentioned that they were part of some kind of summer camp in England outside of London. Anyways, after the girls had come back, the boys literally skulked off the path and into the forest. I don’t know if I was the only one that noticed that, but it certainly freaked me out just a little on the inside. After that, we wandered around Sofia trying to find a restaurant. We eventually decided on the restaurant Olive’s. It’s an American themed restaurant with retro posters on the walls. The food went from cheap to expensive but the service was super fast. I would recommend it if you find it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. That was my day: a failed attempt at hiking directly followed by an impromptu barbecue on a rock followed by a double veal burger. Good deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and your birthday will always be an unexpected adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1831956347796693066?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1831956347796693066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/09/bulgarian-birthday-blog-bost.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1831956347796693066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1831956347796693066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/09/bulgarian-birthday-blog-bost.html' title='Bulgarian Birthday Blog... Bost?'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3717453845833061148</id><published>2009-09-07T04:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T04:17:39.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Association</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish to do something a little different. I usually take my time to write my blogs and I usually re-read them, and do a little spot editing along the way. This time, however, I want to do some Free Association. Essentially I'm going to just write and jump from topic to topic every once in a while. To help me do this, however, I've employed the use of a timer. Each paragraph you read is the product of 3 minutes of off the top of my head writing. At the end of the 3 minutes, I'll finish my sentence then change the topic based on something in that last sentence. The reason I'm doing this is because I know that there are things I haven't gotten around to talking about since I've started this blog. I wanted to see if this could help jog my memory around. So to start it off, I've decided to start by using the closing line of my last blog post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the Peace Corps and even though they prep you over and over about the fucking 4 leva/km taxis, you will always jump in one no matter what. *shakes fist*"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m shaking my ambiguously aimed fist in the direction of the Taxi drivers not the Peace Corps. In fact, we had a 45 minutes session during training where the biggest message from them was “DON’T GET IN THE WRONG TAXI OR YOU’LL BE PAYING THROUGH THE NOSE!” Of course, as I said before, that was most certainly not on my mind when I went into the parking lot of the train station. I just jumped into a taxi and took off. During that session, we were shown pictures of the legit taxi companies and their logos. Then we were shown the logos of the terrible, wallet-pillaging taxis. To the untrained eye, they were more or less the same. You change a C to an O and you’ve got yourself a fake freaking taxi. Fortunately this was only the case in Sofia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sofia is a big city much like New York and another stereotypically big city that you would find in America. I’d like to use another good example but that’s really my problem: I’m a suburbs sort of guy. My house in Miami was in the suburbs. My house in Kingston was more or less in a suburbs-esque Jamaican environment. My university was it’s own corner of the city and might as well have been considered a suburban type of area considering that the community that a college provides. So when I got there I was more or less lost and overwhelmed by the amount of people and the hustle and/or bustle of the environment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my satellite site, Not-Amsterdam, the normal course of the day was get up, eat breakfast, go to school or Bulgarian lessons, hang out afterwards, go to the gas station bathroom 10-15 minutes away (depending on how fast I walked) then home again for dinner. It sounds rather relaxed but 4 hours of language lessons added on top of the 3-4 hours of English teaching came up to a pretty full day. And N-A was a town where nothing happened. I described it before but the area was mostly broken houses and farms. I wasn’t really sure what to make of it all as I arrived. I tried to figure out why they would put me here. My language trainer said something about us being survivors but the only survival experience I had was living behind a large automatic gate with spiked fencing on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My language trainer, Elitsa, was one of the most helpful people I had the pleasure of working with. She was well-versed in Bulgarian culture, her English was excellent, and she had been working with the Peace Corps for several years so she was able to impart wisdom onto us as in the form of stories a lot of the time. I am not sure if I’m at liberty to talk about these stories but I’ll just say that they were certainly pretty helpful. She was also a great counselor for our group as we had several in-house related problems concerning our living situations which I KNOW that if I mentioned those on the internet I’d be breaching some sort of code of trust with my other sitemates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s something I haven’t gotten around to talking about yet. The site mates that I had at the satellite site were certainly 2 of the best people I could have had to experience N-A with. They were incredibly intelligent and they were both very outgoing in their own ways. Especially in a group of 3, I think we had a pretty solid construction. Kay was the encouraging one. She was always there to push us on when we were had lower energy levels (which, if I may add, was a lot of the time). Tyler was the one with great vocabulary and creativity as he would always remember that one word you would forget and be able to use it in a context that would stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My training in Linguistics counted mostly for two things: Phonology (essentially the study of sounds we make) and Grammar. When it came to learning the language, I was confident at the pronunciation and the sentence structure. Unfortunately I hadn’t taken a single class in Morphology (the way phonology creates words) or Semantics. What these courses might’ve helped me in was the memorization of the words that we were learning during training. Even now, I feel like I can’t remember anywhere from 50-75% of the words we learned during training. I’m sure that this isn’t true but at times it seems like that I just can’t find the word that I need at the right moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that being said, I can't seem to find another paragraph in that last line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was surprisingly taxing even though it took all of 20ish minutes to write. I promise to you that I didn't edit a single paragraph after the 3 minutes were up. I'm also glad with the results. The experiment got me talking about my Language Trainer and my site mates at Not-Amsterdam. I certainly had fun with it. If you guys liked it I can try it again in a few months to see what else surfaces to the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and so much crap happens that I can't document it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3717453845833061148?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3717453845833061148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/09/free-association.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3717453845833061148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3717453845833061148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/09/free-association.html' title='Free Association'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-6197440108068817140</id><published>2009-08-31T01:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T01:57:13.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My worst morning</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now last week I told you that I wanted to post my journal entries for the summer camp. Well unforuntately I have a much better story to replace that with. So I won't be mentioning anymore of the camp, you can ask me about that in the comments or personally if you feel intrigued however. Instead, today I'll be talking about my worst morning I might have ever had in a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a point of reference, 1 BGN = 0.73 USD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week Monday, I the B25's in my general region (that is in the bottom left side of Bulgaria) were invited to a refresher course on English teaching at the PC headquarters in Sofia. We would be going over different aspects of the Bulgarian classroom and what have you. I was most excited to going because I'd be seeing some of my friends that I hadn't seen in about a month. Also, my town was on the same train line as a couple of my friends so it was a no-brainer that I'd be trying to get on the same train. I went to bed that Sunday night with the intention of getting up 6am to get ready to leave my apartment at 730am for a train ride at 8am to arrive at 10am for the training session at 11am. It was a great plan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I woke up at 130am the next morning and I found myself staring at my ceiling. After going back to bed, I woke up an hour later at 230am. Then again at 330am, then at 4am, then at 530am, then I said "fuck this". It seemed my body refused to let me rest. I thought of punishing it later with a diuner. I got up and ate some leftovers for breakfast giving me the boost of energy that i needed to get out of the apartment at the proposed 730am. On the way, I met an old lady who seemed to recognize me. She started to speak in Bulgarian which I could only barely follow but it contained the words for 'train', 'there is no-' and 'major accident'. That last one I learned on the spot because in Bulgarian that word is "catastrophe". So of course I had to go look. I got to the train station to find that there were around 100+ people hanging out in the station and in the trains in the yard. None of them were moving and it seemed that I would not be making it on a train at the proper time. I texted ahead to my friends down the line and they rushed down to their station to catch the train that was leaving one hour earlier than before. I hung out at the station for another hour when I noticed that the people in the station started piling onto a train after an announcement. Then the people from one train started boarding the first and then I saw what was to be the worst train ride I might take in Bulgaria. I rushed inside, bought a ticket and boarded the train to see that my fears were not unfounded. Every single seat was full from the front to the back by people who were going to Sofia on both trains. So I found a nice window to lean on and stuck my head out of it. We left the station at 9am. At least this would probably be the express so that the train system could get back on track, right? Hell no. This was the train that stopped at every Podunk between my town and Sofia. Alright! 3+ hour train ride on my feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride itself was really pretty. I stuck my head out the window several times just to feel the refreshing mountain breeze. Seriously. It was really nice. Except that I was standing in the same position. My legs slowly became sapped of energy and I might have gone crazy if I hadn't brought my ipod. 3ish hours later, legs burning, eyes heavy, we arrive at the station in Sofia. It is now 12pm. I am going to be late. I head out to the parking lot and grab a taxi. We converse as to where we are going and then I fall asleep. I wake a little later to find that I'm to get out here. I'm not totally sure where I am but I'm sure it's on the right road. Well before I could think about that, I had to pay the bastard 40 leva for the taxi ride. Imagine paying 40 dollars for a 10 mile ride. You'd be angry as hell. Well I wasn't. I was sleepy. But I paid him (no tip of course) and got out of the cab and looked around. That son of a bitch didn't drop me off on the right road. I started asking random people on the road and they had no idea where PC hq was. So I started off in one direction. It seemed like the wrong way for some reason, so I went in the other and met the main road. Looking up and down it, I came to the realization that I was let off 2 or so blocks away from my road. So in the end, I had to walk ANOTHER km to get to the PC hq. I arrived at 1230pm. Just in time for lunch. As I walked into the conference room, everyone cheered. It was like I was Fonzie. I love that feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the rest of the day hanging out with friends, and with Jill in particular, who showed me the Mall of Sofia where I bought spices for more cooking experiments. In the end, Sofia itself was fun and on the trip back, I had my own 6 seat compartment on the train. It was like night and day. All in all, the afternoon was good enough that it balanced out to a solid zero. No negative or positive aftertaste. After that shitty beginning, that was most certainly the best I could ask for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and even though they prep you over and over about the fucking 4 leva/km taxis, you will always jump in one no matter what. *shakes fist*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-6197440108068817140?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/6197440108068817140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-worst-morning.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6197440108068817140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6197440108068817140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-worst-morning.html' title='My worst morning'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-107473913924142448</id><published>2009-08-23T01:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T04:31:49.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Summer Camp Experience Part 1</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about the long delay but here's the first post of 2 or 3 (I haven't quite decided yet) about my summer camp experience with the kids from my school. The following paragraph is an actual entry from my 'journal' that I wanted to keep. It's essentially me writing on my observations of the first day and what happened. I would also like to stress that the last two sentences do not actually describe how I feel about the kids now as it was merely the first day. They WERE, however, the feelings I had the morning after. Also, I grew to like the camp after a few days. I just felt that the first day was the most sensationalist of my entries. I also wish for you guys to understand that the kids don't have many other places to go for vacation, if anywhere else at all. And it wasn't just a big party, like I may imply. There were facilities for sports like badminton and tennis as well as a nice table tennis table. There was also a nice pool to swim in nearby. And as for the alcohol, it wasn't as bad as I make it out to be. I just want to  stress that what you see written here were my feelings by the morning of Day 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell am I doing here? I started the camp off by standing in the middle of the driveway alone for 30 minutes because I had no idea what was going on. The kids are all in their own little cliques and I’m just off to the side confused. Then I was moved into a room with 4 other guys. I expected this. I just didn’t expect one guy to drag one bed out into another room and another to be a dickface. There’s a certain satisfaction from calling him a dickface. Probably because this is the best thing to call him... The food isn’t bad. Nothing outstanding but it’s better than the food we got in Panichishte. The problem is that there is no option for seconds. At least not one which doesn’t make me feel marginally guilty inside. We went into town shortly after. The entire place is on a hill and so when I realized the entire trip into town was downhill, I dreaded the trip back up. It wasn’t so bad actually but more on that in a minute. When we got to the center it was boring. Nothing to do because the only people I knew were my counterpart and her sister. I was actually falling asleep at their table because a bunch of them were speaking in Bulgarian and after a long period of listening to another language it turns into a hypnotizing droning noise. Anyways, as I was saying the trip uphill wasn’t so bad. I was able to talk to the first really curious kids here: a group of 5th grade girls I might be teaching in September. They asked me a whole bunch of good questions and since there were like 5 of them they were able to do a sort of hive mind English recollection. It was quite entertaining to watch them chatting amongst themselves trying to remember words like ‘pool’ or ‘England’. When I arrived back I was accosted by another young boy and his friend. I think they were older but I couldn’t tell. Regardless, he seems rather interested in me and while I can appreciate the company, he’s always coming into my room. At least that’s something. Dinner was good. Bedtime was a completely different story. The days here are like a giant party. This place is less of a summer camp rather than a summer house, if you know what I’m saying. The loud music was playing deep into the night and all the kids (I stress the word kids) were drinking beer and vodka. Then when my roommates/charges returned to the room they saw me getting ready for bed and wouldn’t stop talking in their normal voices regardless. Then they started shouting and people started coming into the room. I am starting to hate them all. That night sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you get the idea. I apologize for the short-ish entry this week but the last two were unusually long so I'll just give you guys a nice little break. I'm working on posting some of the pictures to the galleries. Look back here later this week to see if I've actually followed up on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I think I might like my students. Well maybe except the one guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-107473913924142448?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/107473913924142448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-summer-camp-experience-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/107473913924142448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/107473913924142448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-summer-camp-experience-part-1.html' title='My Summer Camp Experience Part 1'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8216555729265846636</id><published>2009-08-10T06:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T06:00:02.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jared's Speech</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are reading this then the system works and I'm posting to the people of the FUUUUTURE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few things before I post Jared's speech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) If you plan on posting a comment on the speeches at the end of this (I doubt you guys will due to the near utter lack of comments from last week) please do not compare the speeches. At all. We have parents reading this. Last thing we want is to offend a family member and they get back to one of our authors and they get back to me with a crowbar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)On the right are the blogs of some of my fellow PCV's from my group. If there is a blog on that list I'm missing (and I'm positive there are a ton) please get back to me so I can post it up there next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Finally, I said this last week but I'll be going away for a few days to hang out at a summer camp. It'll be a good time. You'll hear from me whenever I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay! Here is the next speech! It was written by Jared Golub. The Bulgarian was part of a separate document so Jared sent me the English half. I can assure you that it is easier to read :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you need to know is that 'Az obicham sirene' means 'I love sirene'. 'Sirene' will be defined in this speech better than I could ever articulate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Az obicham sirene.  As we all began our individual adventures in Bulgaria two months ago, we learned this simple yet essential, three-word statement to convey our unverified love of a diary product composed milk, butter, and—probably—mayonnaise.  This is the sentence that shaped the entirety of our future experiences in the Peace Corps, that goaded us with an unfamiliar tongue, that promised us future obsessions and delicacies beyond our combined collective consciousness.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Az obicham sirene—I can't think of a better phrase to sum up my pre-service training in Peace Corps Bulgaria.  Az—I, you, he, she, anyone with the cognitive ability to refer to himself in the first person, together we share this word; in a land that discarded communism decades ago, we remain vigilant in our use of a single pronoun that transgresses language, nationality, and gender.  Obicham—love, another word present in every language, because despite mankind's vast history of violence we will always have that innate ability to love; whether it be our fellow volunteers and the Bulgarians who have opened their hearts to us or the urban and natural beauty of this land itself or even just a funny-tasting cheese, we will always love.  Sirene—I can't think of a deeper meaning for “sirene,” but, boy, does that stuff taste good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For the past two months we've been bombarded with acronyms, handouts, and fleas.  We've milked goats and decapitated chickens.  We've been discriminated against and done some discriminating ourselves.  We've made fools of ourselves trying to dance the Bulgarian horo, only to make bigger fools of ourselves teaching the American Hokey Pokey.  We've eaten sirene, and other foods from other animals, animals we never knew could be food.  We've made the day of a five year old simply by asking if he wanted to play frisbee.  And we finally understand what Matthew McConnaughey meant when he promised, “Peace Corps—the toughest job you'll ever love.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We've appreciated the immeasurable kindness from our host families, our Bulgarian neighbors and colleagues, our fellow trainees, and our Peace Corps staff.  We've appreciated all of you and hope to return your kindness with our own.  We hope to remain the diverse individuals we came here as with our various histories and personalities.  Individuals predisposed to loving every food, culture, and person in Bulgaria.  Individuals, but still one, mixed together, pasteurized, and chilled.  Az obicham sirene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much Jared for letting me post your speech. It was an honor to be able to do this with both yours and Nat's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll see you all next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and nie obichame sirene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8216555729265846636?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8216555729265846636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/jareds-speech.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8216555729265846636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8216555729265846636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/jareds-speech.html' title='Jared&apos;s Speech'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1029531299996036680</id><published>2009-08-04T04:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T04:25:38.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Swearing in speeches</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey once again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this last week has been very quiet. I've been taking my time trying to get in the groove of the town and whatever. So as for myself, I don't have much to say other than Jim Henson was a genius. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what I do have, are the speeches that Nat and Jared made on the day we swore in. Both of them were incredibly moving and thought provoking and they both summed up our experience quite succinctly. Because of that, today I'll be sharing with you the first of two speeches. For both of them, they decided to alternate between the use of Bulgarian and English languages and I want to preserve that template so you'll be seeing some Cyrillic jibba-jabba every other paragraph. It's safe to say that the Bulgarian and the English are more or less the same. Perhaps some of the humor may not transcend the language barrier but the message is there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I've spoken more than enough about that. Here we go, the speech by Nathaniel Broekman:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Благодаря, Jared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Дължим много благодарности на хората, които ни помогнаха да стигнем днес до тук.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many thanks owed to the various people who have gotten us where we are today.  I would like to give those out now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;На нашите приемни семейства:  Благодарим ви за всяко ястие, с което ни хранихте, за всяка чаша, която пълнихте и безчетените часове, които ни отделихте, за да разберем вашата страна по-добре.  Посланикът ни, който си заминава, в едно от последните си интервюта каза, че най-важното нещо, когато посещаваш България, е да отидеш в българска къща, да седнеш с домакините на чаша ракия и просто да си поговориш.  Виe ни дадохте тази възможност и дори много повече, и то по най-любезния начин. Вие бяхте и ще бъдете най-добрите източници които можем да имаме, и аз знам, че ние всички сме изключително благодарни, че ни приехте във вашите домове и на вашата трапеза.  Ние също очакваме да бъдете наши гости в бъдеще.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To our host families:  Thank you for every meal we were fed, every glass that was filled, and the countless hours you've devoted to helping us understand your country.  Our currently departing ambassador said in a recent interview that to sit in a Bulgarian home, share stories and a glass of rakia is by far the most important thing to do when visiting Bulgaria.  You have given us this opportunity and much more, and in the most gracious way.  You have been and will continue to be one of the best resources we have here, and I know that we are all extremely thankful for being let into your homes and to your table.  We eagerly await your visit На Гости.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;На нашите учители по-български: търпението, което всички вие показахте е огромно.  Вие работиxте шест дена в седмицата и дори повече - включително времето за подготовка, сложната ни програма, и особено ние - обучаемите: мрънкащи и уморени.  Вашето виждане за животa в България е също толкова жизненоважно за нашето разбиране на тази страна и животa ни в бъдеще тук.  Всеки път когато чуем «Заповядайте», ще си спомняме онези първи, мъчителни часове, в които се опитвахме да произнасяме тази дума заедно с вас.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To our language trainers:  The amount of patience you all have displayed is tremendous - you've been putting in 6 days a week as we all have and more, including preparation time, scheduling nightmares, and especially: whiny, tired trainees.  Your insights into Bulgarian life are equally vital to our understanding of this country and our future here, and every time we hear the word «Заповядайте», we'll remember those first painful hours trying to pronounce it with you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;На служителите на Корпус на мира: Благодарим ви за времето, което отделихте нa всеки един от нас.  Индивидуалната грижа и внимание, които ни дадохте са изключителни, и мога да кажа, че сме безкрайно впечатлени от вашите умения, опитa който имате, профeсионализма и желанието да ни помогнете.  Щастливи сме, че ще работим с всеки един от вас през следващите години.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To our Peace Corps and training staff:  Thank you for all the time you have put into each and every one of us.  The personal care and attention you've given us is exceptional, and I can say that we are infinitely impressed with what you're able to do, the experience you have, your professionalism and desire to help us at all costs.  We're excited to work with each of you in these years ahead of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;На България:  Ние сме готови за теб.  Благодарим ти за шопската салата и кюфтетата.  Благодарим ти за това, че ни приемаш в твоите градове и села, училища, сиропиталища, НПОта, и читалища.  Все още има много неща, които можем да научим от теб, а също и да ти дадем.  И бих искал да добавя, че който е решил да сложи пържени картофки в дюнера, е гений.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Bulgaria:  We're ready for you.  Thank you for shopska salata and кюфтета.  Thank you for letting us into your cities, your towns and villages, schools, orphanages, ngo's and читалища.  We have a lot to learn from you and plenty to give.  And can I add that whoever decided to put french fries in Дюнер was a genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Като доброволци, ние сме тук за да служим, да обучаваме, и може би най-важното - да се учим от българите.  Някои от нас се научиха как да играят право хоро, какво точно е шкембе чорба, и почти се научиха как да отказват още ракия.  Обаче, по-важно от тези неща е да се учим взаимно, че всички сме хора, че всички имаме желание за по-добро бъдеще за нас и за света.  В това отношение ще трябва се работи постоянно.  И въпреки, че високо цененото традиционно схващане за развитие е подобрение на инфраструкурата и икономиката, аз вярвам, че личните контакти, които ще реализираме, ще са най-важният аспект от нашата бъдеща работа.  Колкото и идеалистично да звучи, има много добра причина нашата организация да се нарича Корпус на мира; основите на нашата мисия се крият в името ни.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As volunteers, we are here to serve, to teach, and perhaps most importantly to learn from the Bulgarian people.  Some of us have learned to dance Pravo Horo, what exactly Shkembe Chorba is, and almost learned how to refuse more rakia.  But more important than these specifics is to teach each other about our shared humanity, our shared desires for good in the world and in ourselves, our hopes for equality among all peoples and a better future for the generations to come.  Our work here will be constant.  And while the traditional notion of development as being improvement of infrastructure and economy is highly valuable, I believe the personal connections we will form between everyone in this building and outside of it, and the empowerment we will leave between each other are the most important aspects of our time here.  Idealistic though it may be, there is a very good reason our organisation is known as the Peace Corps; the basis of our mission is in our name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Бих искал да завърша с нещо малко, но значително.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to finish with a small, but significant moment I've had here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Преди няколко седмици, обучаемите от програма «Oбразование» бяха събрани в село Баница за обучителни сесии в училището там.  По време на обедната почивка, част от нас стояха пред местното кафене и си говореха.  Един човек, който правеше ремонт в училището се приближи до нас, и ни каза, че иска да ни покаже нещо наблизо и да ни обясни нещо за България.  Аз и един приятел го придружихме до ъгъла на училищния двор.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago the education program trainees were all gathered in Banitsa, having training sessions at the school there.  While on lunch break, a group of us stood out in front of the local café killing time.  There was a man doing repairs at the school who came over to us, and announced that he wanted to show us something nearby, to explain a little something about Bulgaria.  A friend and I accompanied him to the far corner of the schoolyard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Там имаше скромен паметник на българските войници, които са се били рамо до рамо с америкаските срещу нацистите през Втората световна война.  Името на неговия дядо беше написано на него.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There stands a simple monument to the Bulgarian soldiers who fought alongside American forces in world war II, against the Nazis.  His grandfather is listed on the monument.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Той искаше да ни покаже период от миналото в който България и Америка са се борили заедно за една добра кауза.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to show us a time that Bulgaria and America fought side by side for a good cause.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Той ни стисна ръка и просто каза, «да живее нашият съюз», съюзът между България и Америка.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he shook our hands and simply said, «long live our union, between Bulgaria and America».  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Това са най-добрите думи, които бих могъл да кажа в този знаменателен ден.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the best words that I could possibly think up for this day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Благодаря ви, и късмет на всички.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, and good luck to us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to thank Nat for letting me post his speech on my blog. It's been a real pleasure to experience it once more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, next week I'll be in the mountains near my town to attend a summer camp with some 40+ kids from my school. I'm going to see if I can postdate a blog so it'll come up when I want it to but if you don't see the next post by next Monday, you'll certainly see the speech the week after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and those were the some of the best words any of us could think up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1029531299996036680?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1029531299996036680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/swearing-in-speeches.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1029531299996036680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1029531299996036680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/08/swearing-in-speeches.html' title='Swearing in speeches'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1816274073239055824</id><published>2009-07-27T14:03:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T06:10:48.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I HAVE INTERNET! *EDITED*</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey, everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at my permanent site finally and I have a solid piece of internet! No wifi, sadly, but I can certainly use it from anywhere in my living room. I have also set up a Skype account and you can chat with me whenever i'm awake and online. My screen name is [redacted in case random people find me] and I'll be on as often as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before I go into some announcements, I'd like to address a few questions that arose from the last post. Firstly: In case you didn't read the comments, the field that we built the football field on is very slanted. It is slanted in the direction of one of the corners of the field. This means that one team has a very big advantage over the others. Doesn't matter though because the town has a freaking football field :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the other outstanding thing... Here's what we're swearing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, [state your name], do solemnly swear or affirm that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, domestic and foreign, that I take this obligation freely and without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps by working with the people of [the host country] as partners in friendship and in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the general gist...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire ceremony was about one and a half hours long. We got a speech from our country director then from a representative of the Embassy and then a representative from the government had a speech. After that, all 62 of us swore in using that above speech. Or some variation of it. I can't find the original script of what we did... Please don't fire me, Leslie. To end the ceremony Jared and Nat had two exceptional speeches in Bulgarian and English. I'll have to post those sometime. After the ceremony we had a nice little lunch of american things... I said good-bye to my host mom. She cried. I cried. She left. I cried some more. Then I started to punch a wall all manly like so it looked like I was crying because my hand hurt and not that my host mother was leaving me :'(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buuuuuut... Pretend you didn't read that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final announcement: The public and private galleries got an update as well. A bunch of new pictures. If you want to look at the private pictures I have, then email me and you know the drill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps. I swear it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the right of the blog I put up two links. The first is to my public photos. The second is to Valerie's blog. She linked to mine so I figured why the hell not, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1816274073239055824?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1816274073239055824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-have-internet.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1816274073239055824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1816274073239055824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-have-internet.html' title='I HAVE INTERNET! *EDITED*'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-6974124048059621162</id><published>2009-07-21T05:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T05:44:13.352-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My last week</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey, Everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about the super long delay in updating my blog. As it turns out, the last week has been one of the busiest I’ve had in a long time. Essentially this was finals week and our projects were due, not to mention our final exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s start with the exam because it’s shorter to explain. During each volunteer’s training period they undertake two Language Proficiency Interviews (LPI). The first time they take around the halfway point, it’s really more of a warm up for the real thing with lower expectations and easier questions like what you eat for breakfast and perhaps your daily schedule. The second time they bring in the real thing. They’ll ask you questions based on what you used to do in your hometown, they’ll ask what you will do at your permanent site and the bar they set is significantly higher making much more difficult to prepare for the questions. My interviewer said that she was going to be asking questions such that the memorized answers that I made for the standard questions would be useless. If you failed the LPI, you were given one more chance six months from that date. I think I did pretty well even though it feels like I did minimal studying. Which is probably true. And by probably I mean very. And by very I could mean totally…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now each training group (there’s one in several different towns in my region) is to arrange and perform a final community project. Some groups painted bus stops. Some groups painted walls. Our group built a freaking soccer field. To be fair, most of the work was done by the community but that was the point of the project. We were to get the community members involved in every step of the process. The idea we had was to get the children, for whom the field was meant for, to help as much as possible resulting in them having a stronger emotional connection and thus a less likely chance of marring the field… or stealing the goal nets. The field, however, was a huge problem. It was covered in weeds that the most dangerous lawn mower I have ever seen could not handle. That’s why the three of us took to the field with the rusty tools that the mayor’s office provided. It was a great time. We were chopping weeds, turning over the dirt so the chalk had somewhere to go that wouldn’t blow away and picking up broken pieces of glass. I forgot to mention. This field is where the locals go to burn their trash. There was a lot of garbage in the corners of the field. Also, this was done in the middle of the day. In other words, we were tired as hell. The end result, however, was actually pretty impressive. The soccer field looks like something out of Thunderdome or a terrible fantasy setting with small tree stumps growing out of a single region of the field, burn marks all over the place where the piles of grass and garbage were incinerated, and it was on a hill. We placed a soccer field on the side of a slope. It turned out really well. That Saturday we held a bunch of games for the kids where they played each other. Then we went to the local store and got them all ice cream. It was a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that’s how I spent my last week. Today, however, I don’t have anything to do so I’m just sitting in my room writing a blog post that will be posted whenever I find a wifi hub. This Friday is my swearing in and by Saturday afternoon I'll be at my own apartment at my permanent site. I'm gonna sleep real well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and we can play soccer anywhere we want, dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-6974124048059621162?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/6974124048059621162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-last-week.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6974124048059621162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6974124048059621162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-last-week.html' title='My last week'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-8536882257628769798</id><published>2009-07-11T03:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T03:24:56.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey again! I have a treat for you all today but first I’d like to begin with a little explanation of what I’m trying to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When anyone tells a story, there is a need to tell the events that surround the story. Usually this includes phrases such as, “So there was this time when I was at this place and…” or “Did ever mention that…” and these phrases are followed up by the a short hint of story and then the context. In general, context is good but sometimes it tends to be long-winded and completely irrelevant to the story. In fact the story can be summed up in about one or two lines. Take the entire Harry Potter series, for instance. As a summary, we can say “Harry and his friends go to school and kill the Dark Lord”. Obviously I’m not giving the entire series enough justice but the idea is there. Sometimes, though, one or two sentences are all you need to tell a really good story. The following lines are the experiences of me and a few of my friends taken in and placed into one or two sentences. Each is done in the 1st person and a few can be summed up by something said during the event. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed collecting them. I’ve added a comment in parentheses to help you understand a couple of them. Let’s begin with mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I’ve stared down a chicken while squatting on a toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I’ve received chocolate from a Mahmoud Achmandinejad lookalike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I’ve toasted to the death of communism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once watched my host dad shave his chest and belly in the living room while his son played on the ground in his shavings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I quit smoking because a sixth grader lit up beside me.&lt;br /&gt;2) My host brother wants to be me so much that he came to dinner with my toothbrush in his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caitlin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve ran for my life from packs of dogs - more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I killed a chicken and ate some bees in the same day.&lt;br /&gt;2) One dark night, I was led home by the hand by a six-year old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raf:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my neighbor is the ghost of the lady who died across the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesse:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once received a love letter that said, “Jesse sexy. Kiss kiss. Sorry brothers.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kari:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My host mom wouldn’t let me leave my house because my hair was wet and trapped me on my porch to dry my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My vagina doesn’t smell- I don’t need a douche” (the word pronounced like douche means ‘shower’)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna T:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My host mom invites boys over for dinner for me to marry. We argued for two hours over and it is still an issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a school, I once pulled the squatter toilet flush lever too hard and all of my shit went all over the stall of the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all I have for now but I plan on collecting more and using them for another blog post in the future. To clarify, each of these stories came from the last 8-9 weeks that we’ve been here and I was only able to ask a small fraction of the 62 of us. I didn’t get a chance to ask a few. Some of the trainees couldn’t think of a story immediately. Some claimed that they had no stories at all. If any of these trainees are reading this blog, you have stories. I can assure you that you do. The easiest thing to do is to picture the things you have done in Bulgaria that you would never have done otherwise and please send them to me or tell me the next time we meet up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and it regrettably cannot be summarized into a sound bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-8536882257628769798?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/8536882257628769798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/stories.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8536882257628769798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/8536882257628769798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/stories.html' title='Stories'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-6548919974420822215</id><published>2009-07-03T07:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T07:27:00.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You guys are terrible</title><content type='html'>So from your resounding silence, I've decided to let you look at some of the pictures on the open gallery. I can't show you all of them due to security reasons but I will put one up every few weeks or so. There are also some pictures which can never be shown to you guys because of the possible risks that they might entail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can find the pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/Zachary.Yap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still leaving up the rest of the pictures on the other account on the chance that you will want to look at all of them. Just email me and you can see the rest of the 400+ photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps so you may need to make some inconvenient concessions. (see what I did there? I turned it around to include you guys.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-6548919974420822215?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/6548919974420822215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-guys-are-terrible.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6548919974420822215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6548919974420822215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-guys-are-terrible.html' title='You guys are terrible'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-7082914471924245262</id><published>2009-06-26T09:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:22:26.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick update with an important announcement</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I want to post more pictures of what I've been doing and I want to comment on as many of them as possible. The problem is that it is probably a security risk if I do that. So I've decided to create a sort of hybrid blog. Essentially a public blog with private pictures. I'm creating a brand new google account and I'll be using it mainly for posting my pictures. Email me your name (so I know who you are) and I can send you the account name and password so you can access it. The public one I put up earlier will always be up. Think of it as an appetizer. You can find the link to it several entries back. It's a short one I believe but don't take my word for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I was almost a security risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-7082914471924245262?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/7082914471924245262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/quick-update-with-important.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7082914471924245262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7082914471924245262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/quick-update-with-important.html' title='Quick update with an important announcement'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2606128695665778627</id><published>2009-06-23T01:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T01:46:49.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>UPDATE FOR REAL!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish I to touch on the subject of the PC training. I realized that I havent explained to you all how exactly I got to where I am. It's a pretty long process spanning 9 1/2 weeks so I better get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THings start almost immediately when you get to your staging hotel in a selected city. I've heard stories that DC isn't the only place but I'm not sure. Once you get there you have one or two days where the American staff walks you through the in and outs of the PC protocol. Essentially, it's a huge security lecture where you are told you can be separated from the PC if you do anything stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next step is to get on a 12 hour plane ride to Sofia then get on a 2ish hour bus ride to the first training site: A hotel in the mountains. There you get acclimitized to the weather and you work off the jet lag. I've found that jet lag is most easily taken care of by making yourself so tired that you might actually collapse in the spot you're standing. The next morning you're still tired. But in a I-came-back-from-work-really-late-and-now-I-need-to-go-back-like-right-now kind of tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, you get more security lectures as well as medical and cultural stuff. It's not as interesting as it sounds, however. What IS interesting is that we started learning the language not 4 hours after waking up on the second day. We learned about fruits and vegetables. In Bulgaria, fruits and vegetables are so important that they are lesson one. Not verb conjugation. Not sentence structure. Not even the fact that there is gender. Nope. You learn about fruits and vegetables. And I guess saying hello and nice to meet you. But that's irrelevant. I like saying Apple. Yabulka! Yabulka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 3-4 days of language and lectures, we learn where we get placed for our Pre Service Training. I was placed in Alt... Amsterdam. I'll tell you the real name after I swear in. We spend the rest of the 9 weeks there training with our Language Trainers and going to Hubs/clusters where larger groups of trainees meet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's happening right now is that I'm visiting my permanent site where I'll be working for the next 2 years after I swear in. I'll live here, go to work here and call this my headquarters. After this, I will return to Amsterdam where I will complete my training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing to note, is that I've been signed on for Septemvri AND Varvara. The two towns are about 4-5 km apart and are divided by a short road. It's a quick bus ride from either town to the other. What is interesting is that I'm the only person in my Bulgaria group, that is of all 61 of us, that was assigned to two different towns. There about 5 or 6 of us assigned to 2 different schools but my situation requires I travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Septemvri is the larger town, about 10k people, and that is where I'm living. It's very comfortable there and I have an apartment with a really nice living room and a kitchen. I sleep in the kitchen. That might take some explaining but I have photos to show that off. I have access to everything I might need in Septemvri. There are a lot of stores and I'm in the middle of town so I have access to most things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Varvara, on the other hand, is a much smaller town on the bottom of the Rhodope mountain range. It's a very beautiful place and it boasts spas and hot springs. It's consistently about 4 degrees F cooler than Septemvri thanks to the mountain breeze. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be teaching grades 5-10 for the first year in the area. This was a surprise to me since I was nominated to the PC as a Secondary School teacher. My assignment, however, has me teaching mainly primary school students with a single grade 10 class. I hope I can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That'll be all for now. Leave questions if you got 'em. I have pictures that I'll be uploading once I return home. I'm currently working from a computer in a lab at the school in Varvara. Also, I've begun leaving comments on the photos so you'll get to see how I summarize 1000 words every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I love it in my towns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2606128695665778627?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2606128695665778627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/update-for-real.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2606128695665778627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2606128695665778627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/update-for-real.html' title='UPDATE FOR REAL!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-7263368168633428054</id><published>2009-06-21T05:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T10:50:58.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Small, Tiny Update</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick update. I've arrived in Septemvri for my 3 day visit and I'm having lunch with my counterpart. I'll tell you folks more about the situation when I get some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and it's no longer Easy Mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be talking about here later. Right now I'm using my counterpart's computer and I have no internet at my apartment. Spokoino, folks. Relax. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-7263368168633428054?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/7263368168633428054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/small-tiny-update.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7263368168633428054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7263368168633428054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/small-tiny-update.html' title='Small, Tiny Update'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-407299948032924224</id><published>2009-06-19T03:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T04:08:53.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Permanent Site!</title><content type='html'>So I found out where we will be spending my next 2 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure I won't need to hide this from you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working in the towns of Septemvri and Varvara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you all more when I have more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and they think I'm competent. Joke might be on them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDIT 6/20: I've got about 400-500 pictures ready to release to you guys slowly. I'll let you guys see them once I get to each point. I'm publicizing the first picture of my satellite site Not-Amsterdam now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/Zachary.Yap/NotAmsterdam#&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-407299948032924224?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/407299948032924224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/permanent-sight.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/407299948032924224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/407299948032924224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/permanent-sight.html' title='Permanent Site!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3552703965894773451</id><published>2009-06-12T06:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:34:12.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deliciousness Follows!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey once again, everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By popular demand, the topic for today will be FOOD. One quick linguistic digression before I begin: my greeting ‘zdraveytey’ is a common formal/plural greeting and the pronunciation (if you can do the IPA) is [zdravete]. In other words, it’s pronounced essentially just as I typed it. Of course it looks completely different in cyrilic: ЗДРАВЕЙТЕ. If the spelling is wrong, please correct me, my Bulgarian friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto the food. Deliciousness follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first piece of food I wish to share with you is called Banitsa. This dessert is a traditional Bulgarian recipe (at least that’s what the Peace Corps wants us to believe) and every household tends to have a different recipe much like rakia. (If rakia sounds unfamiliar to you, look back a couple entries where I tell you how drunk it gets you. And by you I mean me.) It’s essentially a rolled pastry that contains fruit or cheese inside. You start by getting some very thin, read paper thin, bread. These are pretty similar to the kind you could get in an Ethiopian restaurant, I believe. Next, cover one sheet with a small layer of oil. In the household I learned this, we then placed another layer of bread on top and used a little more oil. Next we added the fruit (apple or pumpkin in this case) and spooned some crushed nuts mixed with cinnamon on top. Then we added two spoons of sugar for flavor enhancement. Finally we rolled it up and placed it into a baking pan. After about 8-10 rolls, the pan was filled and we tossed it into the oven for a while. It came out crispy and delicious. Imagine the thinnest and crispiest soft taco shell wrapped around fruit, nuts and cinnamon and when you bite into it, the damn thing feels like it melts in your mouth because it’s so fragile feeling. It’s pretty damn great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next one is another wrapped treat. This one is a lunch entrée that I’ve only found in the nearby city of… Budapest… This food is called a Diuner (or Dyuner depending on how you want to phoneticize it. Yeah. I verbed phonetics.) Start with a pita, preferably on the thick side. Fry one side of it to heat it up. Next add cucumbers, shredded lettuce or cabbage, and some kind of yogurt based sauce. This next part blows my mind. You place French fries and grilled chicken on top of all that. Add mayonnaise, ketchup, more yogurt sauce or chili powder as preferred, roll and serve wrapped in a napkin. I’m feeling pretty hungry just thinking about it. Best part: the small (yet very filling) size at the café I eat at sells them fresh for only 2 leva (the Bulgarian Currency). According to my ipod, in America-world that’s only $1.40. And the larger, much more luxurious and delicious size is still less than 2 bucks. I love Bulgaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing to note, by request from someone who I believe to be Al Brown, I have begun brainstorming the story for Peace Corpse. It will be a romantic comedy set in the African wilderness. Once again, if you have anything else you wish to hear about, leave requests. Next week I’ll be finding out my permanent site and I think I’ll have more frequent updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps and I think I’m gaining weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3552703965894773451?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3552703965894773451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/deliciousness-follows.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3552703965894773451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3552703965894773451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/deliciousness-follows.html' title='Deliciousness Follows!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-1659127894221987012</id><published>2009-06-05T08:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T08:09:50.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Town!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey again, folks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m assuming from the lack of responses to my last post that my poo was not as interesting as I thought it was so let’s move on to a different topic. So last time I basically spoke about my home. I’ll also make this post a little shorter so it’s easier to digest. Now let’s talk about Amsterdam and what’s in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I’d like to say that have photos that prove that I’m actually in the Peace Corps rather than just chilling out at home or something faking it. I do. I just need to upload them to the internetz. That may take some time if the internet trips out like it’s doing right now. Not a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it’s certainly beautiful. I’m currently writing from outside the town center where there is a decent wifi connection. It trips out more than occasionally but it’s reasonably fast. I’m writing from under a tree on the grounds and it is wonderful. To the right of me there are 2 large columns dedicated to the heroes of the town. Across from me is the town municipality containing the mayor’s office, the post office and a couple mini-markets. If you go down either main road, you’ll find farms and animals. Off of these roads you’ll find other not so main roads probably made of either cobblestone remains or dirt. Sometimes the roads are just paths that have two small trenches that the carts will just roll through. Along these paths are more farms and animals. Amsterdam is a town with nothing. No banks, atms or movie theaters, either. It’s a very old fashioned town. The best way to picture this town is to imagine the opening to Beauty and The Beast. The little French town is very similar. I see the same people every morning and they all poke their heads over their fence to say Bonjour. Well Dobro Ootro, anyway. I like it here. I like it and its bazillion tiny farms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I plan on making a photo album using one of those online programs so you can see my pictures. I’ll do so once I get an internet connection that I can rely on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing before I go, I’m going to be touching on a lot of subjects but I want to know what you guys want to read. If you care to, leave a comment with a request and I’ll try to comply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps. It’s like I’m in a Disney musical… or a horror movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-1659127894221987012?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/1659127894221987012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/town.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1659127894221987012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/1659127894221987012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/06/town.html' title='The Town!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2780916153957979546</id><published>2009-05-28T09:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T09:40:40.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What it looks like!</title><content type='html'>Zdraveytey, everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s time for a proper update concerning Bulgaria. As I said last time, this has been the longest and hardest (laugh it up) week I’ve ever had. At the same time, I’ve never had such a fulfilling experience. I was going to talk about my four days in Paris but instead I want to tell you all about my training site, Amsterdam, first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam is a small village at the north end of the country. There are only about 1200 people here and most of them are on the older side of the spectrum. When I say most of them, one of the saddest things about Amsterdam is that the local school is closing after this summer because there are only about 17 or so registered school-age residents in the town. All of the young people leave the town when they get the chance so it would be safe to say that this is an aging and declining population. Regardless, this is one of the most beautiful towns I have ever visited. Almost everyone here has their own garden in which they grow their own fruits and vegetables. Everyone also has their own collection of farm animals. My host family, for instance, has a chicken pen with about 30-40 chickens of all ages. Also, Amsterdam is only one of two towns where the PC stationed 3 trainee volunteers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m not sure if I can give names but I can tell you about the people I’m staying with. I live with a host mother and her son. Let’s call them Agnes and Seymour. Like the place names, these names are not descriptive of the people except perhaps the relationship. Seymour teaches priests in the city closest to here, our HUB city Venice. Agnes grows tomatoes, cucumbers, cherries and has her own vineyard from which she makes her own wine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I’m on the subject of alcohol, let me talk about the local moonshine. Each house that grows fruit will have their own version of the moonshine, Rakia. To quote one of the trainers back in Paris, “It’s about 75-80% alcohol and it goes down like firewater.” That sentence is 100% correct. Just smelling the Rakia will make you want to pass out. That being said, my meal a couple nights ago was a delicious salad made from cucumbers, tomatoes, green onions and radishes (I suspect that they were all grown right here) with a salt, apple vinegar and vegetable oil dressing, a chicken dish with chopped up potatoes and leg quarters. As for the alcohol I set up but forgot to mention, it was about half a shot of Rakia and a glass of red wine mixed with lemonade. I got a little drunk that night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concerning my actual living situation, it’s absolutely wonderful. Essentially, they have a guest house on the second floor (either that or I’m displacing Seymour from his normal quarters) and I have it all to myself. It consists of a living room, bedroom and dining room. The bedroom is larger than any other bedroom I have ever had to myself with an approach on the bedroom I shared with my sister many years ago. I have set up my office for studying and whatever in the dining room as well as making that my tech center, so to speak, with all the adapters and junk I use being put in that room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now to burst the beautiful bubble that you may be imagining, I have a squat toilet. I’ve done some pretty crazy things in context with myself over the last few days. I’ve joined hands and danced Horol with about 100 other people. I’ve learned how to hand wash my clothes. I’ve walked 30 minutes to a bus stop. I’ve helped create a trellis for cucumber plants to grow up when they come into season. I’ve taken a shower in near freezing temperature water. The most amazing part of them all, however, is the squat toilet. For a little background, Bulgaria has a different toilet system. To describe it from my experience, when we flush all the water that was in the toilet ideally leaves and is replaced with a new basin of water. In Bulgaria the toilets don’t really flush, as it’s more of a dilution. Water is added to the tank while the same amount is drained at the same time but the tank is never empty. So your urine would still be in smaller volumes at the end of a flush while the fecal matter gets whisked away. Because of this, the toilet paper is almost never flushed down but is instead discarded in a nearby trash bin. That’s something else you can add to that list of awesome things I’ve done (no seriously, it’s really hard to imagine this but it’s a very amazing thing to be okay with that). Now that I’ve given you the idea, let me reiterate for a third time: There is a squat toilet outhouse on my little farm. There are actually two toilets here, one in the shower area which is an actual toilet, and the outhouse. The former is for the liquid waste, the latter is for the solid. I would describe for you the reason why I know the differences in uses but it would be rather obscene because it was done via gesture. My family is awesome. I’ve needed to go to the outhouse twice and each time it’s a terrifying experience. I’d go into more reasons why but it would get gross and I’ve just realized I’ve spent more than double the time describing the Bulgarian waste management system than anything else I’ve written about so far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve more to say about Amsterdam but I’ll leave it be for now and let you all take in my vivid description of my method of pooping. The outhouse is in the chicken pen, by the way. At first I thought they were fucking with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Peace Corps. I’m totally okay with this and I haven’t had this much fun almost ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2780916153957979546?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2780916153957979546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-it-looks-like.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2780916153957979546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2780916153957979546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-it-looks-like.html' title='What it looks like!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2807382338283162734</id><published>2009-05-25T05:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T05:25:07.137-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'M OKAY!!!</title><content type='html'>So this is a quick update to tell you all that I'm alright and that I've settled in my host town of Amsterdam (remember no real place names). It's been the longest week of my life and you'll all be hearing more of it later. Even later than that if the nearest internet is this cafe in the city after a 20-30 min. bus ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2807382338283162734?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2807382338283162734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-okay.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2807382338283162734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2807382338283162734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-okay.html' title='I&apos;M OKAY!!!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-3038330090448266126</id><published>2009-05-18T19:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T20:09:29.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SECURITY!!!</title><content type='html'>A bunch of things but first a disclaimer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS BLOG IS THE OPINION OF ZACHARY YAP AND NOT OF THE PEACE CORPS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. With that out of the way, I can continue the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently writing from the bar at the Holiday Inn at Georgetown. Spent the weekend walking around the Mall and am exhausted as hell. I got to see Lydia, Flannery, Dawn and Donnie though. That was a whole lot of fun. We had dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was the very long staging orientation. It was very long. The first two hours were about icebreaking and PC common knowledge. We went around answering questions about the PC: What are the three goals of the Peace Corps? When was the Peace Corps founded? Who is the current head? There were also questions about ourselves such as: What skills do you bring to the table? (Not in those words but close enough)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we made posters and did Public Service Announcements. All in all, a standard day in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I head out into the world. It'll be fucking great. I've met a good chunk of the rest of the volunteers and they all seem really cool. I had dinner with a bunch of them at a Thai restaurant near the hotel. Decent enough end to my time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now referring back to my heading, I have a bunch of things I should explain. Due to security reasons I cannot tell you that the 60ish of us are heading to small town called [redacted] for [undiscloseable] days. There we will be doing [stuff]. I can, however, give the names of the towns other things. For instance, I could tell you that we're all going to Paris. That is a bold-faced lie but I'm sticking to it. I'll also be attempting to keep the names of the other volunteers secret as well as the people in these towns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing: This may be the last time I'm updating the blog for at least a week. Please keep checking back just in case and leave a comment if you can. It lets me know people are reading my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you guys can come visit me in a few months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-3038330090448266126?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/3038330090448266126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/security.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3038330090448266126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/3038330090448266126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/security.html' title='SECURITY!!!'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-869415268178716686</id><published>2009-05-16T20:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T20:43:23.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another quick update</title><content type='html'>Quick update for tonight. Just wanted to let you all know that I’m in DC right now and you can reach me at 305-987-2390. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, there may be word in the next few days about my apparent obsession with the concept of time. I’d just like to say that Lydia is a damn dirty liar and that Time is a wonderful thing that processes along with or without us and deserves our total and utter appreciation to the ravages it can wage upon any given place. In fact, I find myself looking at the clock sometimes just to see the seconds tick away while I helplessly watch. While I helplessly experience. While I helplessly ‘be’... In conclusion Lydia is an awful, terrible liar and she should never be trusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday/Tuesday I'm going to make an attempt at updating to tell you all how the orientation went and, perhaps, showing off some of my other volunteers. It'll be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-869415268178716686?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/869415268178716686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-quick-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/869415268178716686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/869415268178716686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-quick-update.html' title='Another quick update'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-2954294010041188539</id><published>2009-05-10T11:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T11:34:55.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day</title><content type='html'>A quick update. So Mother's Day is my last proper day in Jamaica. I've eaten lots of food that I won't be taking in for the next couple years, more than likely. As a result, I've gained more weight than I'd have liked. Buuuut I'm willing to say that it was worth it :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave for Miami tomorrow morning on the first flight out then spend the night there to pick some stuff that I ordered. Then it's off to NC to do the last of the shopping. Then to finish it off, I head to DC Saturday afternoon. It'll be some fun stuff going on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I still have my final freakout to go through and it'll probably be while I'm trying to fall asleep. Actually, it might be happening right now... Raised heart rate, shallow breathing, anxious feeling... I think a freakout is about right. Crap. This does not feel good at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-2954294010041188539?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/2954294010041188539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/last-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2954294010041188539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/2954294010041188539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/last-day.html' title='Last Day'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-6848823844145615712</id><published>2009-05-07T08:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T09:18:32.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Schedule for the first week</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted you all to hear how the first week of my Peace Corps service will be. For the record, I can't give you exact locations. I'll probably be vaguer than I need to be because at this moment I'm not sure how much I can tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/18: We check in to the hotel in Georgetown at noon and the afternoon is 5 hours of pre-pre-training orientation. Turns out this is to prep us for the preparation for the preparation for our service. I wish that was being confused about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/19: We leave for the airport where we board a plane to Frankfurt then to Sofia. From the estimations, it'll be around 12 hours on and off of the planes so I guess I'll be listening to a lot of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Wl_uQOABxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Wl_uQOABxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love those guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/20?: At this point, I'll have no idea where I am both physically and mentally as 12 hours of plane travel is enough to make anyone assume that they've died and gone to a confined diseased, collicky baby hell. In fact, the more I think about it the more I believe that the previous video may be prophetic. But hey. It's a free flight. I can't ask for more than that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/20 pt2: So as we land, they take our most of our luggage from us to store somewhere someplace. We're not going to need it though because immediately after that we get trucked to a town called Pani- wait I don't know if I can tell you that. Instead, I'll just replace the name of the town with the name of another well known place with the same first letter. So we get bussed to Paris. There we have 4 days of pre-training orientation. I don't know what's going on there. All I know is that it's beautiful and there is no internet OR proper phones. It'll be fun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/twenty-whatever: This is where things get hazy. We get placed in groups and then the groups get sent to different stations where the groups get split up to house with host families. I said on my form that I would not be totally uncomfortable with a family that spoke no English. Half of me is excited about that possibility. The other half wants to kick me in the nuts. At that point, I'll be able to update the blog again with something. I have no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This probably won't be the last update before I leave. The hotel in Georgetown has internetz. Also, I'll be arriving in DC 2 days early to hang with Lydia, Flannery, Dawn and possibly Donny and/or Mike depending on how things go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be a fun weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Zack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-6848823844145615712?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/6848823844145615712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/schedule-for-first-week.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6848823844145615712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/6848823844145615712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/05/schedule-for-first-week.html' title='Schedule for the first week'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410604296579366574.post-7569622738863341821</id><published>2009-04-15T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T09:31:51.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I joined the Peace Corps</title><content type='html'>I guess this will be one of the big questions regarding my trip to Bulgaria. The truth is that there are several why I did it. The first one would have to be that I couldn't get a job anywhere else. Let's be honest: I loved my major, but a bachelor's degree in linguistics without a minor, much less a double major, is not a good starting place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I have student loans. The PC was a convenient way to defer my loans as they may also pay for 15% per year I serve which means that should I make it to the end (fingers crossed) I'll have 30% of my federal loan crossed out which comes up to more than $3000 I think... It might be closer to $6000...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That brings me to my next reason: Grad School. The Peace Corps has a program where they will pay for a part of your grad school tuition if you enter one of their participating schools. It's not much but I like any help I can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally (well maybe I might find some other reason later on), I get to travel to Europe! I'm looking forward to all the great stuff from traveling. The jet lag, the cabin fever, the potential Montezuma's Revenge. Don't try to correct me on that last one. That son of a bitch is everywhere. If I could have explosive diarrhea anywhere, it would be somewhere that has a window onto a beautiful green meadow-like vista. That would be awesome and irreverent. Buuuut in Bulgaria, I have expectations of a Communist town house, so to speak. One room studio with a window facing another building. I foresee hanging underwear outside. In fact right now I'm picturing Italian communities in Brooklyn during the 30's with the clotheslines just draped across the alleyways. Please don't try to correct me on that part either. I've never been to Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on posting whatever I can, that is stories, pictures, maybe videos... I'll also be attempting some basic language stuff if at all possible. I'll need all the practice I can get. I hope to hear from you in my comments or via email.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410604296579366574-7569622738863341821?l=zackinthepc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/feeds/7569622738863341821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-i-joined-peace-corps.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7569622738863341821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410604296579366574/posts/default/7569622738863341821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zackinthepc.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-i-joined-peace-corps.html' title='Why I joined the Peace Corps'/><author><name>Zack</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12391872769149470030</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
