Obviously, I am not used to severe weather shifts. I woke up this morning feeling intensely hungover, only without the convenient excuse of having had anything alcoholic to drink last night. Regardless, when light triggers migraine-throbbing and moving is an exercise in unpleasantness, I am not terribly likely to go into work.
I don't get it, though. I was never sick (even marginally) this often in the States. Here, I got sick a couple times in November, and now twice in March. More than slightly irksome. It could be, as I originally attributed it, due to the bipolar weather (seriously, sunny and warm one day, snowing the next), or it could be that I'm just not used to whatever microbes are living around here, or a combination thereof.
What sucks is that I was feeling all right yesterday, minus a minor bit of insomnia. And now... moving hurts. Joint soreness, muscle soreness... I just hurt. And it's irritating. It's a gorgeous day out, my brain is restless and wants to go out exploring, trees are starting to bloom and I want to take pictures. So of course, I get stuck at home.
At least I'm not violently rejecting food this time.
Later, flipsiders.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Down Below In The Hold Was A Cargo Of Bricks
To start with, the weather is weird, here. Yesterday, it was a bit too warm for a light jacket. As of right now, it is snowing. Some of it's even sticking.
Like I said, weird.
In the interim since last I posted, I've been sick (some sort of violent stomach thing), visited my host parents (they're doing well), made rakia (sketchy as hell doesn't begin to cover it), spent way too much money going to the capitol (but had a really good time) and have taught some basic Irish history (and exposed my students to Irish drinking songs).
In order, the sickness lasted for about three days, during which I had to fight to keep toast, chicken soup and water down. It was all sorts of pleasant, let me tell you. Visiting my host parents, on the other hand, was genuinely pleasant. I always enjoy talking with them, and I can actually have real conversations with them, now. Kinda shocking, given how little I could talk with them when I first got here.
-On a side note, I've been here for 11 months; almost a year holy good goddamn-
The following week, one of my colleagues said he was finally about to make rakia. This made me happy, since he invited me to come with him. To elaborate, this guy is probably old enough to be my grandfather, lives in a village about 4 km. outside of Dupnitsa immediately next door to his parents. They both have decent-sized grape vines, with which they make home-made wine (and, obviously rakia). He's probably been making this stuff since he was a teenager. Needless to say, he knows what he's doing.
The basic process is simple. Take a bunch of grapes. Stick them in a barrel with some sugar and let them ferment for a month or two. Afterwards, you take the juice that has fermented, with as little of the actual fruit as you can, and put it in a 100-liter still. Depending on how sour the ferment is, you need to put in 100-300 g of sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) and about 300 g of salt. Then, you light the fire, seal up the still (we used bread soaked in water to form the seal) and wait. The first stuff that comes out won't be clear. Throw this away, as it contains methanol as opposed to ethanol. Repeat until the distillate is clear. It'll probably be about 120 proof. Dilution with distilled water is required to get it to a less intense proof (most stores sell 80 proof rakia) The whole process of transferring the ferment to getting the distillate took about 4-5 hours, though it was certainly going to continue on for another few by the time I left.
The next day, I headed up to Sofia for a birthday party/St. Patrick's Day celebration with some other PCVs. I got to see several people I haven't seen in a while, and there was good booze - Guinness, Bailey's, and combinations thereof. Also, Cachaça (Brazilian rum-like drink) and spicy Indian food (lamb khaltada) which made me happy for reasons entirely unrelated to St. Patty's Day. It was a good, relaxed time with good people.
The Irish history/music thing went over fairly well, I think. At any rate, they were happy to have something else to do rather than just listen to me talk. Plus, it's meant that I've not had to do a whole hell of a lot (always a benefit).
So, yeah. That's been my month so far. Things with Mila are still good, though I really dislike the distance issue. My own fault, there, I suppose, but it still sucks.
Later, flipsiders.
Like I said, weird.
In the interim since last I posted, I've been sick (some sort of violent stomach thing), visited my host parents (they're doing well), made rakia (sketchy as hell doesn't begin to cover it), spent way too much money going to the capitol (but had a really good time) and have taught some basic Irish history (and exposed my students to Irish drinking songs).
In order, the sickness lasted for about three days, during which I had to fight to keep toast, chicken soup and water down. It was all sorts of pleasant, let me tell you. Visiting my host parents, on the other hand, was genuinely pleasant. I always enjoy talking with them, and I can actually have real conversations with them, now. Kinda shocking, given how little I could talk with them when I first got here.
-On a side note, I've been here for 11 months; almost a year holy good goddamn-
The following week, one of my colleagues said he was finally about to make rakia. This made me happy, since he invited me to come with him. To elaborate, this guy is probably old enough to be my grandfather, lives in a village about 4 km. outside of Dupnitsa immediately next door to his parents. They both have decent-sized grape vines, with which they make home-made wine (and, obviously rakia). He's probably been making this stuff since he was a teenager. Needless to say, he knows what he's doing.
The basic process is simple. Take a bunch of grapes. Stick them in a barrel with some sugar and let them ferment for a month or two. Afterwards, you take the juice that has fermented, with as little of the actual fruit as you can, and put it in a 100-liter still. Depending on how sour the ferment is, you need to put in 100-300 g of sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) and about 300 g of salt. Then, you light the fire, seal up the still (we used bread soaked in water to form the seal) and wait. The first stuff that comes out won't be clear. Throw this away, as it contains methanol as opposed to ethanol. Repeat until the distillate is clear. It'll probably be about 120 proof. Dilution with distilled water is required to get it to a less intense proof (most stores sell 80 proof rakia) The whole process of transferring the ferment to getting the distillate took about 4-5 hours, though it was certainly going to continue on for another few by the time I left.
The next day, I headed up to Sofia for a birthday party/St. Patrick's Day celebration with some other PCVs. I got to see several people I haven't seen in a while, and there was good booze - Guinness, Bailey's, and combinations thereof. Also, Cachaça (Brazilian rum-like drink) and spicy Indian food (lamb khaltada) which made me happy for reasons entirely unrelated to St. Patty's Day. It was a good, relaxed time with good people.
The Irish history/music thing went over fairly well, I think. At any rate, they were happy to have something else to do rather than just listen to me talk. Plus, it's meant that I've not had to do a whole hell of a lot (always a benefit).
So, yeah. That's been my month so far. Things with Mila are still good, though I really dislike the distance issue. My own fault, there, I suppose, but it still sucks.
Later, flipsiders.
Friday, March 7, 2008
I'd Trade You Places Any Day
Well, I seem to have broken two rules that I set for myself. First, I came here with the express intent of not starting a romantic relationship of any sort. Second, I have a long-standing rule about long-distance relationships.
Yeah, so much for that. I've managed to fall for a girl who lives seven hours away (native Bulgarian). If any of you recall me posting about my friend Mila, it's become rather more than "friendly," at this point. We'll see how it all works out, I'm sure.
Later, flipsiders.
Yeah, so much for that. I've managed to fall for a girl who lives seven hours away (native Bulgarian). If any of you recall me posting about my friend Mila, it's become rather more than "friendly," at this point. We'll see how it all works out, I'm sure.
Later, flipsiders.
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