I’ve been in a sentimental mood as of late. I cannot really tell you why, but I can say that I have had some precious moments and I think its because I have actually slowed down in life and am allowing things to affect me. You know like really have an effect on me.

It could also be because I have been listening to a lot of jazz and reading a lot of N.Y. Times articles. I have been digging on Duke Ellington. He is really optimistic for being a jazz player. But that’s beside the point.

This past week I have really missed my friends. I don’t know why…there wasn’t an event or something to trigger (ehh psy. Word but it fits- sorry.) this feeling (another psy. Word.ahh!)…I am happy to be where I am at but I really miss the people that know me. You know those people that can look at you and see your having a good or bad day and they know exactly what to say or not say. The ones you don’t have to figure out/ pull from each other’s past history, present, or future dreams to get to know them anymore. I mean that is all well and good because people constantly change, but I believe that people also have something that is constant. We find/ understand this with time for most people. 

You know who you are, and I want you to know that I genuinely miss you and want to share life with you.

I know I am still able to share life with you but it just is not the same.

It’s hard to explain this because really I am not sad. I am truly happy where I am. I love this small town. I love walking everywhere. Good exercise and get to see what I’d like to call ‘the norms’ in the morning. Saying friendly hello’s and admiring the view all the while going slowly take my steps into work. I have nothing but time. I love being able to figure things out for myself and I especially love the people. There is one lady that owns a food store and every time I see her- this is no exaggeration- with her hyperactive voice and matching energetic body movements, ‘ I am so glad to see you.’ Every time. It’s the kind of happiness that makes you want to join in with her and I always do :)

Today one of the kindergarten teachers and I were talking about upcoming projects and things that I can teach and do with the kids. After this, immediately in a kind of awkward beat she asked what I love, what do I do, etc. I was thinking she was asking about hobbies and what not so I told her and she said no no I mean what do you love? My thought is regards to life… what I find interesting…what do I love about Bulgaria…Yablanitsa... You know these types of things.

She kind of skipped over what just asked me and went on to say I am 44 years old. Strange conversation I thought. Then I looked into her eyes. She looked like she is at a complete loss, like a lost little girl. At this moment I felt older than her, like I had experienced more out of this life. She asked if I wanted a cup of coffee and I could tell that she wanted to talk. I accepted her invitation and we went on the roof so that she could smoke a cigarette.

I started the conversation by telling her most of the ideas I got for the kindergarten was because of my Grandma (she is a preschool teacher), hoping the conversation would roll from there. It didn’t really. There were pauses at the beginning, hesitation. I liked the silence because sometimes it takes a lot of energy to have a conversation. My vocabulary is limited and with some people I can only have shallow conversations. Hello, how are are you. Where you from? How old are you? Some don’t care to have a conversation past this. Because of this I feel robotic at times. So you can only image how relieved I was that this women didn’t want anything else but company to just sit with her. So this lady, her name is Maglana. She looks like a Bulgarian version of Cameron Diaz. I will have to show you a picture. I don’t know what to really think of her. I didn’t have a very good first impression, but those are the ones that surprise you the most. 

Eventually we got into a conversation. The usual at first---family, friends, why are you here, etc. etc. While we were on the roof she told me that she studied history in college and I told her my brother did as well. So then again we got to talk about family again. But this time it got more personal. She told me her son is 28 and speaks like he is 3 years old. He has been deaf all his life and recently was able to get hearing aids—they are so expensive. She saved money for 3 years. 3 years, you kidding me? She told me she was married but he was very mean to her (I think he beat her) and had a hard time raising her son and things of this nature. She wanted to stay in Yablanitsa because her mother lives here. She was telling me that the job opportunities are slim to none, but she believes her son is happy here and this is what she has always known.

Most of the things she was telling me were quite depressing but I appreciated it for some reason. It felt like it was one of those moments that you knew that you would mull over after it was over. I don’t know if I would call it something that I treasured but I too was able to be honest with her. I told her how I missed my friends and family, some of the things that upset me about Bulgaria, living alone. This was the first Bulgarian I felt I was able to honest with and was allowed to be because she wouldn’t run off and tell the whole town (this is a small town and word travels fast).

She wasn’t too proud to thank me for listening to her either. She told me I have something special going on for me. This was good for my heart.