7 Weeks

I lasted seven weeks in one place. It has been over a year since I could make that claim. I have been so busy running around the globe exploring various aspects of the culture and people that I forgot that sometimes you simply have to stay still. You have to stay in one place for long enough to find your bearings, to reconnect with friends, to digest everything that you have learned about yourself. I remained in Abilene for seven weeks before I began moving again. It only took seven weeks of putting off exploring and travelling for me to begin to feel roots growing in the community. It took seven weeks for me to go back to church for the first time in almost a year and join the church choir. It took seven weeks for me to realize how truly amazing my friends are in this small town. It took seven weeks for me to figure out how much they mean to me and to how they have my back through the struggles of teaching, being a student, and most importantly figuring out this crazy thing called life. Seven weeks. Only seven weeks.

Now I sit here staring at the map of the world in my little cubby, hole of an office in the basement of the library wondering what is next. Where do I go come May? What do I do? How do I change the world in some small way? On my right is a picture of a beach, my dream, my longest running dream. Do I find my way to the beach somehow? Or do I look at the other sources of inspiration sitting on my desk. I am confronted with endless possibilities and I can almost taste the adventure and freedom, and I can only hope that I am able to create roots like the ones I have been able to grow and mend in the past seven weeks.

Roomies

First home game with Tracee. Go ACU!!

Tux's snuggle buddy Daniel

First year and second year cohorts united. 

Istanbul not Constantinople

Finding my hostel was a task. I grabbed a cab at the airport and told him where I needed to go; however, it could never be as easy as simply arriving at my destination. Once we got to the Sultanahmet borough of Istanbul all of the traffic stopped and we weren’t going anywhere, so my cab driver hopped a curve and asked a police officer what was going on. “The president is dining in the area so all the roads are shut down for security reasons” As I sit there listening to the conversation draw on I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that things are about to get more complicated. My gut was right as the cab driver pulled away from the officer and parked on the side of the road and began to explain how I am going to have to walk…and how it wasn’t so far from here…and it should only take 15 to 20 minutes…all you have to do is walk up this hill make a right, then a right at the fork, walk through the bizarre, continue on your left until you see the Blue Mosque and follow it along the Palace wall down the hill and it’s on the second street on your right halfway down the street….What?! In a daze I grabbed my backpack and got out standing on the corner as he smiled and pointed for me to start walking…I kept repeating the long list of directions in my head trying to remember them as I walked along the winding, narrow streets. I was soon extremely lost. An hour a half later and after asking many people for directions I finally found my hostel!!

When I knew I was finally getting close to finding my hostel. Besides being breathtaking the Blue Mosque has never been a more welcoming sight!

As soon as I got to my room I met Monica, an amazing woman who was on her way back home after serving two and a half years in the Peace Corps, we immediately hit it off and began getting ready for a night out, swapping makeup tips and hair ideas (She also has extremely curly hair) and she even let me borrow a skirt for the evening allowing me to mix up my wardrobe a little bit! We spent an evening out on the town and even saw the president drive by us when we were outside of our hostel! He really was having dinner in Sultanahmet!

Taksim! The party, shopping, and dining district of Istanbul.

Me and the girls having a drink on a doorstep converted into a couch. A great girls night out!

Of course I am in the party district and should be out partying like a normal 23 year old, but instead I am taking pictures of Mosques that I find tucked into corners of Istanbul in the middle of the night. 

The next day I devoted all of my afternoon to exploring the rich religious history of Istanbul by visiting as many mosques as I could. I remember standing between the Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque dressed in my flowy pants that reminded me of Jasmine from Aladdin, a shirt, a sweater, and a scarf over my head, which is really difficult to keep in place I discovered…I was melting in the afternoon heat when the speakers began to. I sat down in the middle of the plaza and listened to the prayers being sung. First the Aya Sophia’s speakers would ring out then the Blue Mosque would respond. The prayers and the respect I witnessed for Ramadan by tourists was beautiful; there was a religious tolerance present that I have never experienced before. As I sat there, in awe of the moment I was present in, I prayed to my God.

I was so excited to get in and see the inside of the Aya Sophia. I ended up sitting in there for over an hour listening to the prayers and soaking in as much of the Islamic tradition as I could. 

Take Me to Istanbul!!

Istanbul has been on the top of my list of places to visit for years. A city where continents merge and mingle in both location and culture, and this has always drawn me to it. It has everything I love in a city…it has religion, architecture, a dynamic history, amazing food, bright colors, and amazing people. When I decided to take this job in Viscri, Romania I knew that if I was this close to Istanbul I had to go see the city I had dreamed of, so as soon as I got here I began researching flights, places to stay, and the perfect itinerary. All of which didn’t exactly go to plan.

I had planned to head to Bucharest the day prior to my flight to give myself plenty of time so I wouldn’t be rushed getting to the airport, so customary to Transylvanian travelling traditions I hitched a ride from a tourist group that had visited the Viscri that day. I climbed on the bus and took a seat in the back trying to make myself non-intrusive on this group’s reunion. (A class of MBA students who regularly get together and travel to the diverse homelands of their former classmates) I had no idea what I was getting myself into! The quiet bus soon turned into a party bus filled with uncaged nine to fivers blasting their music, singing out of tune, and the ginger mixing Campari and orange juice or Jack and Coke for everyone on board. I was discovered and became the novelty, new member of the group….they ended up taking my phone so they could use the “Americans” music to mix it up. So about thirty minutes into this trip I had a drink in hand and I hear the Circle of Life come on over the speakers…I was going to need another drink to survive this five hour ride with them.

By the time we arrived in Bucharest I had been invited to a party they were having with more people they knew. And by invite…I mean they insisted I go hangout with them before they would tell me where I was in the sprawling metropolis of Bucharest…what was I to do except to join them for a wine tasting? Once I was a few glasses of wine in, had eaten an outrageous amount of the “finger” food that was provided, and was comfortably chatting with a group of guys, a birthday cake was presented to the guy who I had talked with the majority of the night. I was at a stranger’s birthday party! In Bucharest…How do these things even happen to me? Finally, in the middle of the night I was able to tear myself away, grab a cab, and began attempting to find my hostel.

I arrived at the hostel around 3 AM and ended up having a beer with the manager on patio while he chain smoked and discussed literature with me. Sometimes drunken conversation in the middle of the night are the absolute best. I have no idea what the guy’s name was, but I do remember that his hair was longer than mine and he had a total hippy vibe that perfectly fit the environment.

The next morning I got up early despite the lack of sleep and ample amounts of alcohol still in my system because I wanted to take the morning to walk around the city of Bucharest before my flight that afternoon. So I elected to do the walking tour mention by the hostel, and luckily I found a German boy in the kitchen who had the same plan. We walked and talked throughout the walking tour as I was struggling through a hangover and starving due to a lack of breakfast. Before I know it, it is time to head to the airport for my flight to Istanbul!! A long, sweaty bus ride later and I am at the airport eagerly awaiting my flight.

We land in Istanbul, Turkey and I rush off the plane to get on the bus that will take me to customs. I am so excited to be there I can barely contain myself! As our bus is making its way around parked planes it suddenly jolts to a violent stop and speedily reverses as a jet whizzes past us, missing us by mere inches! I haven’t even legal entered the country and I already had a brush with death…That’s when I knew this would be a once in a lifetime trip!

Goodbye 23

Every year I have a ritual that on my birthday and my friend’s birthdays I ask the questions: what was the best part of this past year, and what do you hope to accomplish in the next year. For me twenty three was a difficult year. It was filled with lots of ups and downs. I faced heartbreak too many times, had dear friend’s lives cut short, uprooted my life and moved to the middle of nowhere…twice! Pushed myself to the intellectual, physical, and emotional breaking points by going back to school to pursue my Master’s, running in and completing the Houston Marathon, and by moving to two new places where I didn’t know a single person…or even the language in my most recent move. Despite all the challenges that twenty-three has brought on I am grateful for each and every one, yet I do hope I don’t have to go through some of them again. I tried to learn my lesson from them the first time (that they happened this year…) With a year filled with hardships it has also been filled amazing blessings. I have made some amazing new friends through all the moving and travelling that I have done. I have wonderful roommates who both have amazing dogs, I have some of the best fellow graduate students in my program who share in the struggles and triumphs of academia, and I have met people in all corners of the world while travelling the globe who inspire and encourage me.

The best part of my year is very difficult to decide on because it has been filled with insurmountable moments of joy and accomplishment. However, the best part of this year had to be the opportunities I took to travel and the airport arrivals. The moment when I landed in Panama City and was greeted with a huge hug by my best friend. The moment when I stood in customs in Mexico City in the middle of the night hoping someone was waiting outside to pick me up, and the relief of seeing that UT sweatshirt. The moment when I rode with the window down in a taxi feeling the sea breeze in Puerto Vallarta. The moment I anxiously got off a plane in Mexico and took a chance. The moment I decided to take on Paris for a day. The moment I met my friend from Panama in Budapest and made the world feel small for the first time. This year I fell in love with airport arrival gates and the joy that they have brought me.

This next year I will accomplish many of my goals that I have been working towards for some time. I will graduate with my Master’s in English. I will have finished my memoir. I will move…again…to who knows where this time, all I know is there will be a beach nearby! I will travel somewhere…anywhere I can and as often as I can. But what I hope to accomplish isn’t a bucket list item or something I can put on my resume; it is bigger than that to me. It is a perspective change. It is to love myself and send as much love into the world as I can. To think of others first more often. To give and expect nothing in return. To laugh until I cry more. To give up control and just trust in life’s direction. To worry less. To be open and honest. To forgive. And the concluding item…to continue to grow.

Goodbye 23. 

At the summit of Vulcan Baru in Panama

Mexico City shenanigans with the the bestie!

Most beautiful beach I have ever visited. Yalapa, Mexico

Don'y be mad mom...

Tequila tasting in Tequila, Mexico

Castles in Budapest

Galata Tower in Istanbul with new friends.

Hello 24!

Running, Jumping, or Flying?

I have been in Viscri, Romania for two months now and I only have a month left, so many people have begun to ask me how I like it here, if I am excited to go home, and will I miss it…and my answers have changed drastically over the past few months to these rather typical questions.

I will not lie. My transition to Romania and Viscri wasn’t exactly smooth. I had a very rough time in my first few weeks here; however, as the time has passed I have found myself growing quite attached to the village I am calling my home for now.

I have met some of the hardest working women who have the biggest hearts in the world, and I cherish that I have encountered them.

I have had the opportunity to teach some of the village children English, and it is an incredible sight to see a dozen children running to greet you at the gate of the courtyard where you are holding class or walking out of your door and seeing them sitting there waiting for you smiling and in unison shouting “Hello!” and “Good morning!” The excitement and gratitude that they have to learn is astounding in comparison with what I have experienced in America.

I am so grateful to work with a fellow writer, Avrina, who will talk for hours with me about things ranging from theory and politics to dating and travelling, and dance til the sun rises with me when we are able to break free of the village life and find ourselves in a city. Seriously don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t come to Viscri.

I am going to miss all of these things.

I have been forced to grow personally, which is a huge blessing and I am going to miss being faced with some of the challenges that have encouraged that. For instance, I have become more in touch with nature, and certainly less jumpy. I have faced some of my biggest fears in the wilderness in Romania. My fear of bears and other deadly animals. My fear of heights while hiking and climbing in the Apuseni Mountains. My fear of dark, confined spaces while spelunking in a cave with a magnificent river running through it. My fear of bugs…me and the bees, flies, and spiders are becoming one…slowly. And my phobia of cats since apparently the cat that lives at the house I do has taken a liking to me and my room…

But most notably, I am at peace with the silence now. I am alright spending a day in thought reflecting on my past, present, and future…and I found that to be one of the most difficult things when I first moved here. Being comfortable being with just myself, spending large quantities of time really getting to know myself, forgiving myself, and learning how to love myself the way I am while still pushing myself to better every day.

The take away from all of this is that I have learned to love Viscri and the challenges it has presented me with, and I am thankful for it making me face some growing pains. I will miss Viscri and Romania, and I will certainly never forget my time here. However, I am excited to go back home and see my friends, family, and my beloved dog! I am ready to finish my last year of graduate school and finish a massive project I have been working on, yet I am terrified of the great nothing-ness that looms in the coming May, when I will have the entire world at my feet and I have to choose which way to begin walking…or maybe running, jumping, or flying?

So now onto the last month of my time in Romania, so time to make the most of this!

 

Wildflowers

Before I left for Romania my friend Patrick asked me if I liked flowers and what my favorite one was. A seemingly easy question to be asked; however, I found this question surprisingly difficult to answer, and in the end I think I ended up giving him a vague answer because I didn’t know. I knew I thought flowers were pretty, but the only ones I had encountered were in the florist section of the grocery store or wildflowers in fields through the windows of my truck. All of which seemed distant in some strange way. The flowers in the store were too perfect; they had been groomed to be cut and arranged into something given as a gift from a loved one or as a manner of saying “I’m sorry”, while the bountiful fields of wildflowers were fenced off in abandoned lands next to the highways criss-crossing their way across the state of Texas. 

For some reason this question and concept stuck with me….what was my favorite flower? Do I even like flowers? Why do I find them appealing? Is it the color, the delicacy, the scent…

As I arrived in Viscri, Romania I was overwhelmed by how green everything is. I couldn’t get enough of the rolling hills and forest surrounding this tiny village in the heart of Transylvania. Weeks passed and the green fields began to fill with millions of wildflowers and dozens of botanists and painters flocked to the area to study the rare flowers and paint them. And yet I still wasn’t so sure what all the fuss was about flowers, so one afternoon I went out into the fields to pick some. I picked tiny, delicate flowers that were white, light pink, and light purple. Their fragrance was sweet and small, but when I sat in a field surrounded by millions of their kind overlooking Visrci I became overwhelmed with the sweet scent floating in the wind and the swaying flowers soaking up the mild sun’s warmth. I did love flowers! As I grew more comfortable in my surrounding and nature I began running off the trails and over hills that enticed me, which allowed me to discover more and more fields of untouched flowers. Throughout the passing weeks I became more involved in events occurring in the Romanian countryside, such as the Transylvanian Bear Marathon and Ultra-marathon, and this allowed me to venture further outside of Viscri and see even more magnificent landscapes. One of the most memorable was a field outside of Mesendorf where the grass was as tall as me; it was buzzing with bees collecting pollen. I just sat there and took in the experience of complete sensory overload. It was exquisite. 

Now June has come to a close and the fields are being mowed one by one for hay, and with each one harvested the flowers are beginning to disappear, so I sit here in one of the untouched fields taking in the fading beauty. I am grateful that I got to witness a season of flowers in Romania watching them change from delicate, pastel flowers to hearty, robust flowers rich in deep colors and fragrance. This opportunity to come and work in Romania has allowed me to figure out how to answer the simply questions that were asked of me a few months ago. “Do you like flowers? Which one is your favorite?” I do indeed love flowers, and I particularly love wildflowers. The flowers that mix in no particular order blending colors that shouldn’t go together in perfect harmony. The flowers that the Gypsies harvest to dry and make tea from. The flowers that only I got to see and twirl around in circles while singing at the top of my lungs. The flowers at the tops of hills where I would run to just because I could. The flowers I did yoga among. The flowers I picked, and the ones I left because they were too beautiful to die. The flowers I would brush against my hands while running so I could bring their scent closer to my nose. The flowers that helped me learn that it is ok to be completely myself again; spreading all the colors of my personality out into the world. That it is alright that some people will not like me, but what is most important is if I love myself. So maybe I aim to be like  a wildflower…

Running with Bears

For the past thirteen years I have had a love-hate relationship with running. I love the satisfaction that it brings me when I accomplish milestones (quite literally sometimes) and when I feel completely worn out, both physically and mentally. I love that it is time for me to think, not think, or a perfect combination of the two. I hate the pain in the moments where my muscles feel like they are about to burst through my skin, but then again I enjoy pushing myself to that point. I hate getting lost frequently when trying a new route, but sometimes getting lost is just what I need to meet interesting people or find secret places. I hate getting covered in dirt and mud, but I love taking a good shower afterwards. I hate the injuries, but love the renewed passion I have for running when I am healed. The list of things that I love and hate about the sport that has become such a prominent part of my goes on and on.

Since I have arrived in Viscri, Romania I have spent a good portion of my time outdoors, which is natural when you are living in an area that is as close as I have come to unspoiled nature. I am lucky to be minutes away from the forest which is filled with kilometers of mountain biking trails that I use for my running pleasure. There are also the dirt roads that run through the rolling hills if I am in the mood for a more relaxed run. It really is the perfect place for a former cross country runner to spend her time training. Many days I don’t get a chance to run until around noon, so I opt for the shade of the forest. Running in the forest comes with many challenges: the steep inclines and declines, sharp twists and turns in the trail, debris on the trail after afternoon thunderstorms, and wildlife. The first three obstacles I am very accustom to navigating; however, the last one I am not. I was actually terrified at the idea of running in the forest by myself when I heard that brown bears and wolves live within them and that the shepherd dogs are almost as bad as either of the previously mentioned animals that might come across my path. I had heard that the main thing you should avoid doing was startling a big predator and you do this by announcing yourself before they or you see one another…how do I do that?! Well I started listening to my music out loud as I run, and when I get to darker regions of the forest where my footfall is muffled by the soft earth I even begin to sing along with the music. Belting out a little Brandi Carlile’s “Raise Hell” or humming along to John Anderson’s “Seminole Wind”; I am bringing a little bit of the South to Eastern Europe.

This technique had been working really well at preventing any bear sighting for me until last Friday, June 19^th when even Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” failed me. I know how ironic the song is, but how can you forget which song is playing when you see a bear run right in front of you? I stopped immediately as the brown fluff ball bounded past me on the trail and headed further into the forest, and I focused on its rather voluptuous rear end which bounced up and down as it ran away. I was in shock. I had seen a bear. I quickly turned around and sprinted as fast as I could in the other direction, desperately wanting to evacuate that section of the forest. I could feel my heart beating against my ribs and felt every fiber of muscle in my calves as I ran past a group of older hikers who were taking a break looking at the plants. “Did you see a bear?” One of the men asked me as I ran past. I just nodded in response and kept going, while they turned in excitement in the direction I had just come from.  

Ironically, I had gone bear watching the evening before and didn’t encounter any bears…

View of Viscri's Fortified Church from the hills surrounding it. Another selfie taken while running of course!

The canopy of the forest is so dense and green that it is actually quite dark the further you get in. 

Where I went bear watching. No bears were encountered that time...but it was beautiful to be there!

Changing Playlist

I press shuffle and an eclectic mix of melodies and rhythms reverberate throughout the air. From Linkin Park to Eisley to Ingrid Michaelson to REM.

I have always listened to music constantly. I am one of those girls who walks around with her headphones in, tuning out the world, focusing on the lyrics trying to find meaning and truth behind their words. However, when I moved to Romania I removed the headphones and started letting the music resonate in the air and world around me. I allowed it to become a part of the nature I am surrounded in.

There are numerous reasons as to why I started listening to my music out loud. The primary one being that I spend a significant time running in the forest and I do not want to startle the bigger animals aka brown bears by running up on them, so I play my music loud and sometimes even sing along to let them know I am coming. After doing this for a few times I started noticing that I heard the music differently than before; it became a way for me to hear English out loud and to interact with my native language by singing. Surprisingly, this little act of singing in the forest while running or hiking has brought me so much joy, a sense of complete freedom I hadn’t experienced before because I knew that the forest was mine in that moment. It made me feel tiny and huge all at once.

The main change is the meaning behind my favorite songs. I have gained a whole new playlist without changing a single song by finding new meaning in the words I thought I knew so well. Previously the majority of songs I listened to took on a meaning surrounding romantic love in some sense, but now I’ve noticed a deeper layer of meaning in these same songs. Many songs are a commentary on the loneliness that humans experience on a daily basis no matter what the situation it. We can be surrounded by family and friends or completely alone in the middle of a forest, and we will still long for connection and understanding and that is what makes music so powerful. It is a way for us to realize we are not alone in our desire for connection and never will be. No matter how strong we are; we are still fragile, and that is where the beauty in life lies.

**My current anthem for the past year is The National’s England. I suggest that you give it a listen if you haven’t already heard it; it is fantastic and so are its lyrics.

Someone send a runner

Through the feeling that I’m under

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

Through the feeling that I’m under

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

For the feeling that I lost today

You must be somewhere in London

You must be loving your life in the rain

You must be somewhere in London

Walking Abbey Lane

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make corrections

Famous angel never come through England

England gets the ones you never need

I’m in a Los Angeles cathedral

Minor singing airheads sing for me

Put an ocean and a river

Between everybody else

Between everything, yourself, and home

Put and ocean and a river

Between everything, yourself, and home

You must be somewhere in London

You must be loving your life in the rain

You must be somewhere in London

Walking Abbey Lane

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make corrections

Famous angel never come through England

England gets the ones you never need

I’m in a Los Angeles cathedral

Minor singing airheads sing for me

Afraid of the house, stay the night with the sinners

Afraid of the house, stay the night with the sinners

Afraid of the house, ‘cause they’re desperate to entertain’

"My House in Budapest"

“My house in Budapest.

My, my hidden treasure chest.

Golden grand piano.

My beautiful Castillo.”

The song echoed on repeat in the playlist in my mind as I sat in the cab in the middle of the night whipping through the outskirts of Budapest heading into the center of the city. To ### József Krt where a friend, Manuel, who I met while travelling in Panama lived and had offered up his apartment to me during my stay. I was in a strange city, suffering from extreme exhaustion and jet-lag, and heading to a strange apartment in the middle of the night with a phone that couldn’t contact my friend if I got lost. What could go wrong? So many things crossed my mind that I had worked myself into a tight knot of tension by the time the cab stopped and I looked out onto a dimly lit street hoping to see the number on one of the many identical buildings. In the shadows I see Manuel standing there staring at the cab. Thank goodness! I am where I need to be, which is perfect because all I want to do is go to sleep.

The next day I had every intention of getting up early and getting my train ticket to Brasov, Romania so I could spend the rest of the day exploring the city. My plan was shot to hell when I slept in past noon…and subsequently got extremely lost trying to find the train station. What should have been a ten to fifteen minute walk turned into a three hour stroll through the Jewish district of Budapest where I saw numerous signs of the persecution that they experienced. It was unsettling, but it was a chance to explore a section of the city in which I hadn’t intended on visiting. After eventually finding Keleti Train Station I then had to figure out where to buy my ticket…I wandered around aimlessly pulling out my Eastern European phrasebook hoping to find guidance. I didn’t. The next step was to try to find someone…anyone who spoke English; I found someone who could understand me I think because she pointed to where I needed to go. All in all I got my ticket (or at least I hoped I did) and rewarded myself with a cappuccino and some delicious pastry filled with custard!!

At this point it was nearly five o’clock and I had agreed to meet Manuel at his apartment when he got off work, so I headed there and managed to find my way back in 15 minutes, how long it should have taken on the way there. I didn’t want to risk getting extremely lost again so I stayed put, and waited for Manuel because I figured he would serve as a good tour guide for the rest of my time in Budapest. I was right!

Lets hope this gets me to where I am supposed to be going...

 

Keleti Train Station 

I saw all the sights. The iconic Hungarian Parliament Building, Buda Castle, Hero’s Square, Vajdahunyad Castle, Széchenyi Thermal Bath, St. Stephens Basilica, walked across the chain bridge, Margit-sziget Island, and I got acquainted with the bar and club scene! All of which was packed into two days! 

The Hungarian Parliamentary Building

The back of the Hungarian Parliamentary building.

Buda Castle from Chain Bridge! 

Hero's Square!

Vajdahunyad Castle

Széchenyi Thermal Bath