Home Again

When I booked the flight it gave me an 18 hour layover in Moscow.  I thought ok, this time I won't be stuck in the airport Skyping friends and family trying to find someone to put me up. This is what happened in London, on my way to Toronto.  And that time, Heathrow does not allow you to stay over 12 hours in the airport, you have to leave. So, I  decided to get a hotel in Moscow for the night. Peter was picking me up at JFK and wanted to have lunch in the Bronx, so I thought it would be nice to have showered and put on clean clothes.  The problem is no one warns you that even for this small trip you need a Visa for Russia or it will be a fucking nightmare. "Fucking Nightmare" should run across the screen in big bold letters as you make any reservations.  Orbits.com should not allow such a layover. They should not have this particular Sofia to Moscow to JFK route.   

And when I arrived at Moscow, they kept asking again and again why did I choose this way to go.  As if I in pajama bottoms and carrying Bulgarian ceramics wrapped in old tshirts and not speaking any language, even English by this time is an International spy.  And no one was won over by my dazzling white teeth or my first name being Whitney like... Whitney Houston.  Everyone was sooooo mean and soooo Russian.  The main point is if you are without a Visa, you need to be escorted everywhere and there are designated areas where I should be.  I was questioned and made to wait for over 2 hours.  Then they escort you in this huge bus to the hotel, where a guard is there at your check-in and takes you up in a special elevator and then some other guard is there at your floor and escorts you to your crappy room. I so badly wanted to pull a Die Hard 2 and when the elevator door opens, I have already climbed up to the ceiling and escaped to save the world by blowing up a plane while making a pithy very American comment.  But I was tired. 

Here is the other thing... When I booked the hotel I did it through booking.com.  The website said nothing about the Visa problem. But supposedly I got a great rate at 180.00. This was a lot but I did have some money and the hotel offers free breakfast, an indoor pool and a sauna. There is also a Mexican restaurant in the hotel and i haven't had Mexican in a long time.  This is also the ONLY hotel I could choose anyway because of the lack of a Visa.  I thought I will come at 6pm and have a quesadilla and swim and watch the satellite tv and go to bed.  I booked the hotel; I gave my credit card information and I got a confirmation email that everything was set.   This is truly my mistake and now that I have found my old happy and relatively self-assured self, I need to lose the spending money like I have money self. I really need to budget and just become much much smarter than I am with money. Bookings.com NEVER took the money out of my account. The room, though booked was never paid for.  I get there and he asks for my credit card and I think it is just to confirm it is me but he runs it and I don't have 180.00. DECLINED! What the fuck am I supposed to do. So then the guy asks well don't you have any family or friends, who can help you. And I said yes and they have and it's enough! I was actually falling in love with everyone back  in the States the day before. As I was packing in the empty apartment, reorganizing gifts and writing notes of thanks, I was touched by how many people I had to buy gifts for.   This meant that as I was in Bulgaria, they were helpful.  In big ways, like caring for my lovely cat or housing my possessions or in small ways, answering frantic emails or giving me articles.  I was supported here by many people and I was not going to ask anyone to put me up in this hotel. 

So he charges me something like the last 75 dollars in my account and now I get no breakfast.  But I also don't get to swim or sit in the sauna because it is outside the permitted zone.  And non-Visa holder rooms are nothing like the pictures of the real hotel.  The room sucks! And because now I have no money, I can't go down and have any Mexican at all.  Had I known, I would have spent the night in the airport.  When I arrived at the airport all I saw were non-Visa holders camped out and seeming communal and protective of each other. It seemed quite cozy. Plus, I could have kept my money and bought a 12 dollar muffin in the morning. But again, think of this as a warning not as a complaint.  I should have been aware of my finances enough to know whether 180 is taken out. Who am I that I don't account for such a significant sum! 

Well, this is all to say that this is my last post. No more epistles from the Pontus.  Although elated to get back to the States, I am sad that I won't be sharing anymore adventures.  It seems odd, but I have found real delight in writing this.  A coward by nature, having to come up with some exciting or enriching or sweet posts, has given me some courage to say yes as much as possible while here.  Even things that I chose not to share and keep private, I still did them because of the possibility of a good story.   

Many years ago, when I was on Patmos, Greece I fell in with an assorted group of Europeans, varying in age and sex. Single, married with children, widowed, etc. The first time I encountered this group was at a little mom-and-pop restaurant run from the mom and pop's house and garden.  The patriarch of the group from Sweden asked if I wanted to join them.  I was eating alone and the restaurant was very small. I said no thank you.  It was too intimidating. Mostly they were speaking English; but most knew Greek, many knew German and the children in the group only spoke French.  I wasn't in the mood to be "on". As soon as I declined, I felt awful. Three days later at the same place, which later I found out was where they watched the sunset every night and ate little things before getting showered and dressed and eating the larger longer meal, which could go to 1am, I was asked again and this time said yes.  It turned out to be one of the best summers of my life. I met people who I was later able to visit,  giving me the opportunity to go to Switzerland and Brussels and Germany.  I still exchange Christmas cards with these people and feel lucky to have met them. 

But those 3 days I still think about and it makes me angry.  This blog prevented me from having a 3 delay in any aspect of my time here. I board the flight to New York soon. Peter will pick me up.  I will get Skala and then at sometime in August drive to Ohio and finish my degree.  I wrote 131 pages of my dissertation and had a pretty spectacular time. That ridiculous country, Bulgaria, which I didn't really think existed until six months before leaving, stole my heart.

Excavation, Part II

I am leaving Sozopol today.  I am taking the 1pm bus out to Sofia.  I stay with Alex for two nights and leave the city on Monday, July16^th.  I cannot fully explain my time here. It is quite something to have an imagined world come real.  It is a very special thing to uncover a community; to have it revealed.  I now understand the ego of some archaeologists. Greeks and Thracians in Apollonia are known because of some Herodotus, Strabo, Pliny, and a few other long dead authors and (most) importantly the real earnest work of a team of scholars.  That is pretty awesome.  I cannot deny it.  But it is really not for me.  I don’t care that much.  I am interested and I want to finish and work and teach and publish but I don’t need to do this.  Maybe just because I had yet another birthday yesterday (unfortunately, I think I am going to have one every year!) but, much like a wearied homicide detective in every other film, “I’m getting too old for this shit!” If I am outside, I want to swim and work on getting darker. This is all I ever wish to do. 

And if my academic life means being indoors, then I want an expansive library and coffee and a comfortable chair and consistent internet.  This is the better life for me.  I also learned what kind of dissertation I want to write.  I spent the year relearning and recommitting to respecting archaeologists and their work.  I have a greater appreciation and good solid contacts and dear lovely friends who are involved in archaeology.  But I am in no real position to fake my way through an archaeological analysis and I don’t think I have to.  I am working on the peer polity interaction analysis and this struggle seems incredibly fruitful and if I can make it work, truly significant.

Generally speaking Sozopol is a great coastal town.  It is smaller than Burgas. There are only Bulgarians here.  In Burgas, Sunny Beach, the whole world is there.  I went up to Burgas for a few days. It was chaotic.  Not as bad as Istanbul but still crowded.  Everyone speaks English.  Here, not so much.  That little stomach thing turned into something a bit more complicated.  And I had to get one of the people here to take me to the pharmacy.  Then, I seriously damaged my little toe on some rocks in the sea and the doctor just wrote a long letter to give to someone to translate.  I did not break my little toe. I fractured it and there isn’t anything to be done either way.  It may heal crooked but it is a crooked little toe anyway.  Its right twin is a little fat crooked thing, so I can’t imagine it will look so out of place.  But the point of this is to stress the non-English here versus at Sunny Beach.

Because of the population of Sozopol, I remained a rara avis here too. This is exhausting. I am excited to get back to the States just for the ability to blend. I just can’t be stared at any more. I am not answering what are you doing here anymore. Part of me wishes I were in Sunny Beach. Nicholas has no patience for staring and is braver than I.  He came here and spoke his mind. I envy his courage and sense of place. I say oh but such and such waiter is so nice to me and Nicholas will ask if I always pay the bill? This is not kindness and anything less when you are paying the bill, is unacceptable.  I can’t be this hard. 

But… I will make a general plea.  This is in the same vein as the teeth. Don’t say Whitney… like Whitney Houston.  Not only is she now dead but it was never a cool thing to say to me when she was alive and successful and happy and beautiful.  Not only do I owe my friend Peter, tons of money because I bet him that when she died, no one would say that to me anymore but also, I never know how to respond.  I forgive every European who has said it- but I don’t forget. I love Strati and Alex and they both say it all the time. That has to end.  But Americans get no pass and I will be courageous about that.  Peter says I should say No No like the museum; not at all like the singer. Crack is Whack! Maybe something like this but I will no longer smile and chuckle while I shake my head.  I will no longer entertain questions about whether I can sing like her.  At the very least, I will walk away.  And anyone who reads this and is in the proximity of such an encounter, please remind me to walk away. If I am too old to excavate, I am way too old to be involved in such a ridiculous exchange. Peter is never asked is his name Peter… like Peter Cetera, Peter Gabriel, Peter Gallagher or any of the other hundreds of famous White guys named Peter.  And I don’t think I am going to accept it by anyone, even when attempting to get a job next year.  I like this stand. It is small but significant and I like who that make me. I have some courage.       

No body's business but... mine

I went to Istanbul (not Constantinople- sorry but I had to) last week.  It was good. I have the time to write all about it because somehow I caught a very disgusting stomach thing.  It could be a combination of trying everything anyone gave me at the Grand Bazaar and Egyptian Spice Market or my roommate, Anna had caught something from her 2 ½ year old brother which she suffered from toward the end of the trip.  I don’t know but it has definitely calmed me down for these two days. It’s fine though.  A few weeks ago, I was complaining to Alex, about the Globul thing and some other things that were going wrong, and I asked him why do things have to be so fucked up.  And he responded, so that you recognize when they are not.  This was the best advice I had heard in a long time.  So when I am completely on the mend, I will recognize it and be so happy that I am keeping food down and no longer a fevered mess.

1. I have met many Europeans and they have all mentioned KenLee- a Bulgarian girl on an Idol-like show singing Mariah Carey.  Everyone knows it and loves it.  I am never on YouTube just surfing but just in case you have never seen it please check it out.

2. Don’t compliment people’s (read: my) teeth.  It’s too weird and makes me feel like a horse.  Some of my time here in Sozopol but ALL of my time in Istanbul, people were obsessed with my teeth.  And asking if they are real or what I do to them or pulling someone over and saying hey show this guy your teeth is not a compliment.  If I talk about my teeth, I will have a dream about them falling out and they hurt in the dream and then hurt in life.  It is nerve racking.  Say nice smile and that’s it. Honestly, you could say nothing and just be kind to me and I will be happier.  Finally, I am darker, so I think it’s just contrast anyway and that my teeth aren’t nearly as white as I would like them to be.

3. Istanbul is chaotic. It is only about commerce. You can pay for anything using any legitimate currency: Turkish Lira, US dollar, BG Lev, Euro.  Because they knew I was American, they gave me the price in dollars. I think its odd to not value your own nation's currency above another's. I took out Lira at the ATM, so I was using Lira.  And I had to haggle for everything.  The merchant gives an incredibly elevated price and then I have to half it and people are giving me tea and messaging my shoulders. I was way too handled. I don’t like my shoulders to be bothered and someone to be behind my back. I was uncomfortable the whole time.  I lost an earring in the sea at Sozopol and so I was hoping to buy 2 pairs of gold hoops but I couldn’t find them. This is mainly because I wasn’t allowed to look in silence and think. As soon as I turned my head a bit, people were asking me where I was from, what’s my name, do I want some tea and tampering with my shoulders!  I bought spices, a dress, a shirt and a carpet bag. I also bought some jewelry, Turkish delights, and key chains for gifts. But I am really sure that part of my current unease, comes from the stress of the purchases.  The landscape is not so lovely either.  I have become accustomed to seeing Mt. Vistosha or some lovely natural thing and I didn't in Istanbul. Just stores and the streets were littered with individual vendors, selling bootlegged or stolen or fake goods.  There was nothing beautiful to look at- save the Bosporus which was heaven.

4. In the Columbo episode “The Bye-Bye Sky High I.Q. Murder Case” a member of a mensa-like club kills a fellow member and best friend.  Of course, the murderer looks at Columbo and thinks he’s an idiot. He’s poor and scruffy and not a member of the club. But as the episode continues, he realizes that Columbo is brilliant and at the final scene he gives him an IQ test.  It is one of my favorite scenes of all the Columbo episodes.  The murderer is bemoaning being born smart and how he had no friends (although he fails to mention that he murders his friends) and then Columbo talks about working hard and trying, keeping his head down and being a good person. It is a lovely scene.  But the IQ test is which one does not belong: uncle, asphalt, delight, leave.  The answer is asphalt because there is Dutch Uncle, Turkish Delight, and French Leave.  That episode ran through my head the whole time I was in Istanbul, it was great.

5. The trip was an early birthday gift to myself.  There was a good deal and there was a guide.  Stefan, the guide was Bulgarian but he lived in the Czech Republic for some time and knew German. Along with him was a girl who was Bulgarian but spoke Polish.  So I and this Swedish guy were the only people on the bus that needed English, which Stefan spoke.  It was really weird. After the two groups were spoken to, the Swedish guy and I had to walk next to the guy and get the info.  We had a lovely boat trip through the Bosporus.  We went to the Blue Mosque and stayed at a nice hotel.  We had typical Turkish dinner.  I went to Hagia Sofia on my own and the Archaeological Museum, which I will discuss below.  There were lots of different kinds of people in Turkey.  It was so nice to see Asians and Africans and Indians. But I must look American because I was still getting more attention than I warrant.  They must have thought I was rich.  But the very best thing to come out of my trip was I met and befriended some really nice Russians.  My roommate, Anna lives in Saint Petersburg and since I never made it up there this year, she has welcomed me anytime in the fall.  This is ideal.  I so badly want to go there. And she was so nice and normal and we have the same general temperament.  She was traveling on her own as well. She is staying at some other city along the Black Sea Coast in Bulgaria, an hour or so from Sozopol.  I met this other couple as well.  They live somewhere that wasn’t Moscow or St. Petersburg but I am invited to their place too. And the whole time I was on this excursion, I was recalling the old me. I found my old self! I was missing her for over a year now. I knew that I could make friends and be a pleasant person to be around. I am funny and kind and interesting. I knew it! I look back at my early posts and I feel so sorry for that girl.  She didn’t trust herself; she didn’t trust others.  Graduate school must really be hard. I didn’t know it then, but it must have been quite unbearable. 

6. The Museums were ok. I might be over late antique and byzantine stuff. I like Diocletian and Julian but Istanbul wasn’t really my thing.  I am so glad I went and of course things were beautiful but it is really difficult for me to imagine that city in antiquity. Maybe I don’t like it when East meets West. Mosaics are great but only when the colors are vibrant. The gold is nice but, I just wasn't awed.  So the group was going to the Aquarium. But I didn’t want to do that because I have gone to the Aquarium in Baltimore and because I am in love with that city, I refuse to see another aquarium anywhere else in the world.  Baltimore’s is just heaven.  So, I had 4 hours to play on my own.  And I was happy for the time alone. There are lots of things on my mind and I wanted to not shop in the city and see if I could like it.  Unfortunately, I was bothered by this guy, Senol. He is a dancer and quite arrogant.  He gets in free to the museums so it was not a problem for him to follow me.  I told him about my blog and he insisted that I take his picture.  I told him I would but that I would write that he was a jerk and kind of ruined my only time in Istanbul alone.  He didn’t mind, he just cared about the picture.     

The following pictures are out of order but show most of my trip

This dog followed us and protected the group with barking. Stephan makes this same 3 day trip, twice a week.

Inside the Blue Mosque

Egyptian Obelisk

Inside Grand Bazaar

Bosporus bridge

Bosporus

Old fortress at the Bosporus

I tried everything. I couldn't help it. This is why I am sick

I cook with salt and pepper. I didn't even know some of these spices existed

Anna- my St. Petersburg friend and Istanbul roommate

My biggest problem: All men carried loads on their back with that pulley. It drove me crazy.  It was heavy and cars were about to hit them and they were about to hit me. It is so hectic. I was sitting in front of hotel for 2 min, and these are the pictures. 2 guys seated behind are waiting for their loads.

I am allergic to cherries.  Not as bad as soy but my throat gets irritated and my ears itch. Sometimes my nose runs.  I bought these cherries, big and beautiful and so sweet on my outing day.  And I was a mess the whole time. I was sneezing and my eyes were watering.  Every time I put one in my mouth, I was cursing myself.  Even Senol, who couldn't get enough of me, was slowly finding me repellent but those cherries were so good 

Senol- The Jerk

Him again

Anna again.  At this point, driving back she is a bit sick getting what I later got

This is Tatiana and her husband who invited me to their place.  I should have taken a picture of the whole group because they were all so nice to me.  And when Stephan forgot to speak to me in English they would tell him to repeat for Whitney.  I actually exchanged Skype addresses with almost everyone. Of course I will be happy to admit that this is also about coming to the US and staying with me in New York, which is fine.  I can be used like that. 

                

A Quick Thought on Sunning

I have been really really happy. It’s lame to write about happiness and it is likely to infuriate the reader, so I don’t have that much to relate.  I had written about my last day in Sofia but it was too sad and chaotic.  That last morning was tough for me.  During the 8+ hours on the bus to Sozopol from Sofia, I wanted to go back to the States.  I was uncomfortable and thirsty. I was tired of moving and just thought about the end of summer: the plane ride heading to New York, driving to Ohio, looking for an apartment, unpacking, starting all over again.  But I got here at 6am and slept all day.  I took a shower and ate clams and drank rekia.  Ever since that first day I have been great. I decided not to compare this place to Patmos. I didn’t want to waste time thinking how this sea side peninsula was not like the Greek island. It feels so good feeling good again. 

But as for the title: I sun. I get darker. How could I not? How could an entire race be impervious to the sun?  We would be a super race if the sun did not make us hot and darken our skin.  It drives me nuts to explain the sun to people. And even if fairly intelligent people don’t think I get darker, can’t I still enjoy feeling the sun on my face. Who hates resting and listening to music on the beach?  And I have burned. It happened twice in winter when the snow and sun create a reflection. My friend, a Black female doctor says that in fact, I am foolish for not taking the sun so seriously. I should wear sun screen, I should limit my time.  I don’t do these things because there is a part of me that thinks I am super and a bit impervious to the sun. But not because I don’t get darker, because I do and I like it. The complexion I dream of is darker than anyone I know personally. It’s darker than Nicholas.  

A bit of what I left behind: chatting with Alex in the morning

My apartment: best apartment so far

Social Realism everywhere

My view

What I found at Sozopol: My Black Sea!

My rocky coast and low saline levels

Apollonia Pontica, my Greek settlement

I will take more pictures of the people here and other things. I can't get over the water

Part of some fortress

What was Ovid's problem?

Light Machine- Man from the Moon

I am providing the link to the video of the song Man from the Moon by the Bulgarian group Light Machine.  I want you to go to Youtube and "like it."  This has nothing to do with me. I am really embarrassed. But I am so incredibly proud of my neighbor Alex, a young guy who I foolishly thought was sort of full of shit. But that is my bias.  I just see college age students and immediately think their lazy and obnoxious. But now I wish I could have 20 Alex-es in my classroom.  It is such a professional looking video with crisp editing and great sound.  I am in awe.  Also I like Strati; and I am so flattered that he allowed me to be in this video. I know that he had all these preconceived ideas of what my presence would mean and I can't imagine that his vision was actually realized but he didn't edit me out. So, I want him and his band to become sensations all over the world. Please pass on the link to friends and family.  The least I can do is give the video a few more audience members from whoever reads this ridiculous blog.  Once more, it is not about me but about Alex and Strati!

Man from the Moon Video 

Globul Domination

This is perfect. I was romantizing this place too much.  I was caught up in cheap beer, the view from my balcony, and my very simple life here. It became impossible to extend my stay another year, although I thought maybe I could. I am so tired of being a student. So recently, the rain has stopped and now there is just heat.  My bedroom is upstairs and the once beloved sky windows have not just created a hotbox where I cannot get to sleep.  And then I went Globul..

When I bought my micro sim card for iPad internet, I paid it all upfront: 14 Leva a month for 10months. Then because I am foreigner I was told to pay 200 Leva which I could get back, when I cancelled my account. OK. When I went there to cancel and get it back they said that I would have to wait until the end of September and I would be paying the 2 months that I did not pay from out of my 200.  Then I have to cancel in person and receive the remaining cash in person.  This is not possible.  So can I cancel now and you take the money 28 Leva and give me the balance.  No, because the fee for early cancellation, even if I pay the two months is all my deposit no matter what.  What happens if I don’t cancel and just say forget it?  I am automatically enrolled in another year and they start taking that from my deposit. But my sim doesn’t work in any other country. I won’t be getting a service. What am I being charged for?  You are charged for not cancelling and even if the service is stopped by us, you still have our sim. This can be very bad because you will have debt in Bulgaria forever tied to your passport.  Can I cancel on-line? No. Can I cancel by phone? No.  So…?  You need to have a proxy who has a document that reads, Whitney Snead is letting this guy cancel for me.

I go to Julij and he says sure, he will be around in September but we need to go to notary for the official document.  We first go to Globul and he speaks in Bulgarian to the manager for some time.  They are arguing. She was the same woman who “helped” me but this is better.  So now it is September 5 when he must come and cancel my account and it turns out I can pay now the two months. And so if he presents this document then the money will now go onto my debit card.  Not cash in hand.  Can I give you my card info now and you put it in under my account? No. Can you give me something that says I am paid in full and am owed 200 Lev on September 5? No. Can I have something that says that we saw each other on this date and had a conversation? No.   

We go to a notary. And because I don’t know Bulgarian it is illegal to have the one who translates to me be the interested party.  I have to have one more bilingual person with me in order for Julij to cancel this account.  We go to 3 notaries and it is the same. Alex is ill but maybe on Friday he can do it.  I can’t even go to Globul and say is this document ok? If he comes back with it will there be a problem? 

I leave Sofia in 7 days and this may have been the snap out of it slap I needed.  I hate being taken. I hate when people say one thing and do another. I hate when it is made absolutely clear to me that I have no power.  I was so pissed off this morning about being a student, jumping through hoops for my stipend.  Begging like a child. And now it is evening and I begged like a consumer. Had Globul asked me for some chapters on Greek settlements on the Black Sea, I would have had it to give. But they ask for my time and commitment, my trust and patience.  This I don’t have. 

A few years back I was trying to find some inner peace.  I was/am too affected by exterior forces. I don’t know how to forgive.  And so I sent for some books to be delivered to Blegen from other UC libraries. And David, the librarian, asked what I was working on to get these crazy Zen meditation books.  I said I am working on some serenity! Yeah but you know what Lloyd Braun said, serenity now, insanity later.