tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43088368243284990082024-02-20T17:40:28.389-05:00All roads lead to ... teaching!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-3410152704309745042018-11-04T14:23:00.001-05:002018-11-04T14:23:06.898-05:00True People of the BookIt’s been a crazy week to belong to the People of the Book (a beautiful Islamic term referring to followers of the three major Abrahamic religions). Between the worst attack on Jews in the United States to riots after the release of a Christian woman in Pakistan, there has been ugliness on all sides. It’s nearly an unbroken circle. <div>
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“Christian” man attacks Jewish community.</div>
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“Muslims” riot after a Christian is released after being charged with blasphemy (the courts evaluated the evidence and found it contradictory and insufficient). </div>
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All we need is a “Jewish” person to attack some Muslims and the circle of evil will be complete. (Since the internet makes it easy for people to misunderstand... I do NOT want that to happen)</div>
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It would be easy to simply put one’s head in one’s hands and hide under a rock. But that would be to miss the other half of the story. </div>
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After the attack on the Pittsburgh synagogue, two <a href="https://religionnews.com/2018/11/02/in-pittsburgh-muslims-are-eager-to-join-jews-in-fight-against-immigrant-hate/" target="_blank">Muslim organizations</a> in the USA raised over $200,000 to fund the funerals of the victims. In addition, they have shown support beyond money by offering to protect their neighbors if they felt unsafe. </div>
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Beyond the fact that justice was given to Asia Bibi by the courts, both the government of Pakistan and average <a href="https://www.dailyo.in/politics/aasia-bibi-verdict-what-is-happening-in-imran-khans-pakistan-now-in-blasphemy/story/1/27608.html" target="_blank">citizens</a> have spoken out against the violence. Yes, her situation is not yet resolved, but this is a positive step.</div>
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It’s not only Muslims and Jews who have been true People of the Book this week. Christians both in <a href="http://blackchristiannews.com/2018/11/pittsburgh-black-church-mourns-with-sister-synagogue-after-hate-crime/" target="_blank">Pittsburgh</a> and <a href="https://churchleaders.com/news/336536-church-leaders-share-strong-words-after-pittsburg-synagogue-shooting.html" target="_blank">across the world</a> have spoken out in support of the Pittsburgh community. In a coincidence that could only be from a higher power, every <a href="http://usccb.org/bible/readings/110418.cfm" target="_blank">Catholic</a> Church through out the world will proclaim today, not once, but twice, the words of the Shema, or most important Jewish prayer, from the book of Deuteronomy. How beautiful that our cycle of readings would have this specific text for today. I had the privilege of proclaiming these sacred words during Mass this morning in Guatemala.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">"Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone!</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">Therefore, you shall love the LORD, your God,</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">with all your heart,</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">and with all your soul,</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">and with all your strength. </span><div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 13px;">Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today."</span></div>
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This is what People of the Book believe. Whether we call Him Elohim, God, or Allah, we believe He is God, the only God. I am honored to stand with my brothers and sisters, People of the Book, today as we pray for peace and justice.</div>
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Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-5872981924909786992018-10-19T00:38:00.000-04:002018-10-19T00:38:43.127-04:00The long reaching fingers of rape cultureIf you haven’t read this <a href="https://andillsingoncemore.blogspot.com/2018/09/third-times-not-charm.html" target="_blank">post</a>, do that first. Second, I am fully aware of how lucky I’ve been. Yes, these “long reaching fingers” have touched me but so many women have had it so much worse.<br />
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The guy who proposed a few weeks ago is back. I took out many of the details from the original post but a few more are necessary now. I’ll call him Lee (not his real name). Lee approached me after Mass one Sunday in Lahore, this spring. I was polite but definitely not warm. Over the next few months, he would frequently try to talk to me after Mass. My body language should have been a clue about my lack of interest. It wasn’t. I didn’t share much about myself or my family. Each time, I tried to walk by hoping Lee wouldn’t notice me and I could get to my car without talking to him. I even started covering my head in church like most of the other women so my blonde hair wouldn’t stick out. None of it worked. I was glad when Ramadan came because it made moot his request to have dinner with me.<br />
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Then it was June and I was leaving Pakistan. I figured this would be the end of Lee in my life even though I did agree to his request about being friends on Facebook. Again, I was wrong. For awhile, the messages were short, albeit frequent. Mostly asking I was and how life was going. As in person, I tried to be polite but not encouraging. My short replies and long response time didn’t seem to send any messages to him about my lack of interest.<br />
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Around late August, things started getting more intense. First, Lee asked if he could talk to me. I ignored it. Then, he proposed. I was shocked. My response was that I didn’t even know him really and I definitely didn’t feel the same. He then tried to impress me with his research of the town where I grew up. His messages wouldn’t stop despite my constant replies that I wasn’t interested. Eventually, I told him there was no chance and I was going to unfriend him on Facebook since he wouldn’t leave me alone. What followed was five weeks where he was completely out of my mind. Until yesterday.<br />
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I’ve woken up the past two days to messages from Lee. Yesterday he asked me how I was and how life was in Guatemala. I didn’t respond. This morning he said, “I know you’re angry with me. I apologize forgive me please rose.” Ironically, I <i>wasn’t</i> angry until he contacted me again.<br />
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So what does this have to do with rape culture?! Lee, like so many guys, won’t believe me when I say, “NO.” He believes that because he has feelings for me, I owe him something. Maybe not consciously, but that’s what his actions reveal. If he asks enough times, he thinks I will fall madly in love with him and want to spend the rest of my life with him.<br />
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And, in a twisted way, he could even try to blame me. After all, I was nice to him (because I don’t like to be rude). I dressed attractively (because the lose, lightweight traditional clothes in Pakistan are so darn comfortable). I kept going to church where he would see me (because the time was most convenient for me). I let him find me on Facebook (because, again, I can be too nice for my own good). Despite the message sent by my body language, short replies, long response time, trying to avoid him in person, multiple messages saying I’m not attracted to him, blunt demand that he not contact me, and unfriending him on Facebook, Lee STILL doesn’t believe that I mean it when I say, “NO.”<br />
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Rape doesn’t happen out of nowhere. It doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It comes from an attitude that because a guy has feelings for a woman or girl, she owes him something. It comes from the attitude that “No doesn’t really mean no.” It comes from the attitude that “If I ask/bother/pressure her enough, no will become yes.” It comes from the idea that if a woman is seen living her life - be it wearing a shalwar kameez in a Pakistani Catholic Church or getting drunk in a miniskirt - she is “available and<br />
willing” for whatever a guy wants. I don’t expect that Lee would go so far as to rape me even if he wasn’t thousands of miles away. The same cannot be said for every guy.<br />
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Lee’s not the first guy who has acted this way to me. Chances are highly likely , he won’t be the last. Yes, I’ve been blessed to have been barely brushed by these “long reaching fingers.” But why do they have to touch any of us at all?<br />
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“But, but, but...” you might splutter, “I/my son/brother/etc would never rape someone.” Good. I hope not. However, do you accept no as an answer? Do you push (past a reasonable persistence... if you’re not sure, you’ve probably gone too far already) for a different response? Do you defend women when other guys are talking about us as if we owe them something? Do you believe women when say they’ve been assaulted or raped? Do you try to put the blame on the victim? Do you tell people it’s, “a scary time to be a guy,” because there is a chance that a few of the actually reported rapes (remember, the significant portion are never reported) are false despite the fact that, statistically<br />
speaking, at least one of myself or my three sisters will be raped in our lives?<br />
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At the end of the day, I can talk or write until I’m blue in the face. So can every woman. It won’t make a difference. There is no appropriate way for us to act to avoid unwanted contact or pressure. The change must come from men. Until men accept that women don’t owe them anything, nothing will ever change. If you are a man who truly wants to support the women in your life, change starts with you. Stand up for us when others are discussing us as objects or we’re the topic of all too common “locker room talk,” no matter where it happens. I know there are good men out there. You can make a positive difference. For me. For my sisters. For my friends. For every woman who wishes it was possible for us to affect this desperately needed change.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-27154467953684692062018-10-07T23:00:00.001-04:002018-10-07T23:01:32.005-04:00High notes from this weekThis week was jam packed with rehearsals and concerts. On Sunday we had a rehearsal then I was asked to learn a descant for one of the songs. Two cool things about the descant: it was for a song that I had first heard on one of Dolhai Atilla’s albums and it included the highest note I’ve ever performed - G above high C! The concerts on Tuesday and Wednesday were great. I had a “nunc dimittis” moment on Wednesday when someone told me he could “die happy after hearing the descant.” As complimentary as that was, no dying is necessary 😂😂. Our final concert was Saturday night. I was worried because I woke up with a scratchy throat which has continued to get worse. Luckily, I was able to sing above it and the descant (and rest of the concert) was good. Or so people tell me... those notes always sound awful in my head. Now I’m ready to get extra sleep and rest my voice for the next week ... until rehearsals start for our Christmas concerts!<br />
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In the rest of my life, I’ve been struggling to catch up my class from when they were sick. I’m not used to being confined to a pacing calendar and it’s been stressful trying to double up lessons to rush through everything so I’m on the same page as the other teachers. It’s hard to feel like a good teacher when I have to rush through things even when I know the students are struggling to understand. I wish I had more time to help them really learn all of the topics.<br />
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<br />Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-73928631593771600512018-09-24T00:05:00.000-04:002018-09-24T00:05:04.170-04:00Sawdust carpets, concerts, and the fluLuckily, the flu wasn’t me. Unluckily, it was 13 of my 25 students. Ten of them were out at the same time two weeks ago. That’s left me playing catch up because of our strict pacing schedule. We are getting closer to being back on track but not there yet. Hopefully, by the end of this week we will be.<br />
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Guatemala celebrated Independence Day a week ago. One of the biggest parts of our school celebration was colorful carpets made out of sawdust. Each class made one with different decorations. Unfortunately, my iPad won’t let me post pictures right now. Hopefully, I can get that fixed tomorrow.<br />
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Finally, I’ve been busy with choir. I’m in two different ones. Capella Cantorum had a concert the week before last, we sang for a wedding yesterday, and have three more concerts next week! The other choir is much more low key. We are getting ready for a Messiah concert in December but it’s easy for me since I’ve already sung it plenty of times.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-77343599522916470342018-09-09T22:53:00.000-04:002018-09-09T22:53:41.787-04:00A picture is worth a thousand words<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-69364875079470385012018-09-02T22:44:00.000-04:002018-09-02T22:44:14.001-04:00Third Time’s Not a CharmSometimes the third time’s not a charm.<br />
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I’ve been proposed to three times.<br />
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The first, I was between three and five. A friend of my parents jokingly said he should marry me when I asked why he wasn’t married. The second was my freshman year in college. I was cast in a student-directed show and, at a party a few weeks before the performance, my on stage “husband” got totally smashed, staggered over to me, sat in my lap, and said we had to get married.</div>
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The third time was this past week. On Facebook messenger. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a joke like the first two. A mere acquaintance had decided he was in love with me and wanted to move half-way around the world to marry me. I didn’t accept.</div>
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Some suggestions for potential suitors (of me or anyone else).<br />
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<li>Make sure your intended actually likes you. You should have spent quite a bit of time together talking and getting to know each other on a deep level. </li>
<li>Do it in person. If you aren’t together in person enough for this to be possible, it’s probably not going to work.</li>
<li>Discuss life goals and dreams prior to proposing. Check that they are compatible or you have discussed possible compromises.</li>
<li>If your intended doesn’t respond favorably, it’s possible you misjudged the situation. Step back and check that suggestions 1-3 have been addressed. </li>
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Of course, you can also feel free to ignore my suggestions and see what happens. After all, what do I know... I’m just someone who’s been proposed to thrice.</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-12002218121346284152018-08-26T22:56:00.000-04:002018-08-26T22:56:28.403-04:00And I’ll Sing Once More...Last Sunday, I wasn’t in any choirs here in Guate. This Sunday, I’m in one, a practice quartet for it, and should hear by tomorrow about a second choir I auditioned for today.<br />
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The group I’m in so far is a small ensemble (around 20 members) that sings mostly short a cappella pieces. We’re working on a Lauridsen piece, two Masses, and assorted Spanish language songs. The audition today was for a group that sings Messiah part 1 each year. The audition was fine except a mixup about what I had to bring. I wasn’t at fault (I had specifically asked about it ahead of time) but we’ll see if that keeps me out.<br />
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After a year and a half of no musically stimulating group to sing with, it’s great to be back in the swing of things!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-79762730463498425702018-08-19T22:52:00.000-04:002018-08-19T22:52:27.644-04:00Back to school and volunteering The biggest events of the week were Back to School Night and a volunteer trip on Saturday.<br />
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It was great to see how much easier BtS was compared to previous years. It does get easier with time! One of my goals this year is to make more decisions and stick to them in the classroom rather than basing all my choices on what others do. Of course this only works for little things but I was very grateful for my resolution when a parent was complaining about our shared resources policy in the classroom. She went on and on about how unfair it was that her daughter has to leave her special pens at home. I stood my ground (I don’t care if she brings them but then they would be fair game for the whole class) even when she threatened to complain to administration about it. Seems a bit extreme to go to such lengths over a pen but what do I know? Vindication was sweet when another parent immediately piped in saying she thinks it’s a great policy. I left the two of them talking about it.<br />
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On Saturday, a group of other teachers and I went about an hour outside of the city to volunteer with an organization which is providing support for families displaced by the volcano. We spent the morning sorting and arranging clothes and other donated supplies. It was hot and tiring but good to be helping. I’m sure I’ll go again in the future.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-58643156588273982512018-08-12T14:23:00.001-04:002018-08-12T14:23:45.056-04:00Misadventures ... or Massadventures?I had quite an experience going to Mass this morning. There were times and places mixed up, wishing I didn’t understand parts of the Spanish, and judgements made.<br />
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It all began when I walked into the church parking lot at 9:20. I was startled to see the outside overflow seating full until I read the sign with times and remembered that Mass in English was actually at 10:30 not 9:30. No problem. I walked home and had an avocado/pineapple/peach smoothie before returning. Have I mentioned how amazing the produce is here?<br />
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An hour later I was back. Below the listing of the Mass in English is a Mass for children twice a month. I didn’t think anything of it because it’s every other week and two weeks ago Mass was in English and just happened to have more kids. It quickly became clear that this was something else entirely. There were tons of kids - awesome - it’s great to see lots of kids at Mass.<br />
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Then the opening song started and things went downhill fast. The lyrics of the opening song had a refrain which translated to “the Mass is a party for Jesus.” Say what? At this point, I also noticed that I had left my phone at home so I didn’t even have my Mass app for the Spanish translations. Unfortunately, it didn’t get better. While I appreciate the priest’s explanations to help the kids understand, a totally improvised opening prayer, skipping the second reading altogether, and having a lay woman start the gospel so Fr. could read only Jesus’s words were less than desirable. The homily involved kids holding signs with words about Jesus as the Bread of Life as well as a loaf of bread and a ciborium of (please God) unconcecrated altar bread. The priest kept asking leading questions to the altar boys on either side of him... which they couldn’t answer. At least it was clearly connected to the readings. When the homily was over and we moved immediately into the Prayer of the Faithful (skipping the Profession of Faith entirely), I finally leaned over to the woman next to me and asked what time Mass was in English. It turned out to be happening concurrently in another chapel. I hesitated then left to find it. I figured, at worst, I could come back for Mass in Spanish this afternoon and it was better than wondering what would happen next.<br />
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I found the English Mass easily and the priest was only in the middle of his homily so I felt pretty good about that. It turns out the parish has THREE Eucharistic chapels - the main church, this smaller chapel, and the perpetual adoration chapel. Pretty awesome. After the homily, there was a blessing for two men who were being commissioned as EMHCs. It was reverent and taken very seriously. Fr. really stressed the honor and duty of the role. Mass cntinued as normal except for two teen girls in front of me who were far more interested in hip checking each other than paying attention to anything that was happening. I managed to refrain from letting them know they might fit in better in the kiddie Mass downstairs.When it came time for communion, I was shocked and disappointed to see the priest sit down and leave distribution to the EMHCs. I understand the need for them (they use intinction with one person holding the ciborium, another the chalice, and a third the communion paten) but after the seriousness with which Fr. addressed the commissioning, it was clear he wasn’t a flake so I was confused about why he was sitting. It turned out my judgement was misplaced and I felt ashamed of myself when he explained/apologized to the congregation after Communion telling us how he had burned his right thumb in a firecracker accident the week before and it was hard to hold the hosts. I then wondered if I would have had a similar feeling had I stayed in the Mass for kids. Considering most everyone was leaving the church with a lollipop in their mouth when I passed them, I’m doubtful that judgement was as off.<br />
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So now I know where and when English Masses are and can avoid the Mass (more of a Mess unfortunately) for kids in the future. All’s well that ends well, right?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-131692324657043362018-08-05T22:56:00.000-04:002018-08-05T22:56:33.753-04:00School and the marketSchool started last week. We eased into the year with two half days but starting tomorrow it’s full speed ahead. My class is pretty well behaved so far. They’re chatty but that’s supposedly a cultural thing. I’ve identified a couple of the leaders of the class and am already working to “get them on my side.”<br />
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Using responsive classroom teacher language is one of my big goals for the year and I’ve been working on it already. I’ve got sentence starters up in my room as reminders and that helps. It’s funny to remember how I reacted when I first heard about RC. I was a baby teacher and looking forward to having class stores and points and chart systems. Little did I know how much unnecessary work those all are! Even though it seemed like everyone else at the RC training this summer was sponsored by their school and I was paying myself, I’m incredibly glad I went.<br />
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After a totally lazy day yesterday, I went to the central market with some friends today. Just like Europe, it’s the best place to get inexpensive, local produce. A full market bag with lettuce, spinach, peppers, eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, onions, lemons, cabbage, mushrooms, sweet potato, and avocados was $10. Unlike Europe, everything goes immediately into bowls with water and vegetable sanitizer when I get home but then it’s ready for the rest of the week. I’m looking forward to my cooking this week!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-61755535092051687032018-07-29T15:09:00.002-04:002018-07-29T15:09:57.001-04:00This week in Guatemala<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">We continued new teacher orientation for most of the week. Returning teachers came back little by little to be introduced before the whole staff returned on Friday. I had forgotten how much longer staff meetings are at a bilingual school because everything has to be done in both languages.</span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">Our orientation was incredibly, perhaps unnecessarily, thorough. As someone who likes having all the information, I didn’t mind most of the time but it was frustrating when the same information was presented multiple times. My grade four team is great; I think we will get along well. It’s cool, not being the “baby” teacher in the team. I’m firmly in the middle in terms of experience and on the stronger side if considering international experience. This should help with one of my goals this year which is to be more decisive in my classroom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">I’m excited with how much of the Spanish I understand. Granted I can’t produce much but receptive language is always stronger than productive. Settling in is still progressing slowly but surely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">Here are some pictures of the beauty that I’m surrounded by here! Visitors are very welcome!</span></div>
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Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-61889279707071009082018-07-22T17:19:00.000-04:002018-07-22T17:19:02.087-04:00Guatemala!So, I moved to Guatemala City last week.<br />
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In the two years since I’ve blogged, I finished my contract in Beijing and then was in Lahore, Pakistan for one year. Lahore was great... the country is beautiful, the people are friendly, and the pollution made me nostalgic for Beijing. Unfortunately, that last item led to a contract amendment so that I could live in a place where I could breathe. Hence, Guatemala!<br />
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The strangest thing about moving here was how easy it was. I left Pittsburgh at 7am and arrived in Guatemala before noon! For someone who has moved to Europe or Asia six times, arriving to my new home in less than ten hours door-to-door with no jet lag was surreal.<br />
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We started orientation for new teachers on Friday and then went to Antigua on Saturday. This morning, the English Mass was canceled at the nearest church to me. However, it was canceled because they were having a special celebration for the 12th anniversary of beginning Perpetual Adoration. Can’t complain about that!!! Plus, the church is safe walking distance from my apartment and they have an evening Mass most days of the week. I was praying for something like this. In China, it was impossible to go to daily Mass or adoration, in Pakistan, daily Mass was accessible but there wasn’t adoration. Now, in Guatemala, I’ve got both!<br />
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I’m hoping to get back into a habit of blogging weekly, so expect to see updates on weekends.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-70617502064929883882016-08-09T04:44:00.003-04:002016-08-09T05:03:26.819-04:00Russian ComposersWhen I was in college, I was very excited to take a course on Russian and Soviet history. Unfortunately, the teacher left MUCH to be desired in her "teaching" of the class. As our final project, we had to write a research paper. I gambled that she wouldn't read it and wrote completely bogus information about Russian composers and music.<br />
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Fast forward to Summer 2016. I took the Trans-Mongolian Railway from Beijing to Moscow and then continued to St. Petersburg. There is a famous cemetery in St. Petersburg which happens to contain the graves of all the composers I wrote about. Here is the footage from my trip as tribute to them and their work.<br />
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Borodin</div>
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Unfortunately, the final two videos are two large for Blogger... I will try to post them on FB</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-1648916735151476732016-08-09T04:44:00.002-04:002016-08-09T04:52:06.589-04:00Russian ComposersWhen I was in college, I was very excited to take a course on Russian and Soviet history. Unfortunately, the teacher left MUCH to be desired in her "teaching" of the class. As our final project, we had to write a research paper. I gambled that she wouldn't read it and wrote completely bogus information about Russian composers and music.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to Summer 2016. I took the Trans-Mongolian Railway from Beijing to Moscow and then continued to St. Petersburg. There is a famous cemetery in St. Petersburg which happens to contain the graves of all the composers I wrote about. Here is the footage from my trip as tribute to them and their work.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzciR47DGDQc39Ca8LvfyPnp3vQbT0888qZcpH6OPRFcs1JjjoiOxZjRmQ9FyvjtMDWUqcsv6nLTVg5UnX68w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Unfortunately, the final two videos are two large for Blogger... I will try to post them on FB</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-70831998751706286392016-07-02T21:37:00.001-04:002016-07-02T21:38:51.466-04:00Open Letter to Myself of 5 Years Ago<div class="MsoNormal">
7-1-16<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dear Rose,<o:p></o:p></div>
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I won’t
lie, the next few weeks will suck. You don’t know this yet, but you won’t sleep
for the next two days and you will feel terrible. This is your gut telling you
to get out of the situation. You won’t do it at first, but after stewing for a
few weeks and talking to your “twin” Jen, you will break free. It will take time
to recover. While you will get heartbroken in the future, I hope and pray this
is the only time you will ever get your mind broken. You will get through it! Don’t
beat yourself up when it takes time to heal! You’ve given six months of your
life to someone who has sucked you into his warped way of thinking. It will be
years before you go to Mass without either feeling guilty because your shirt is
“too low cut” or doing it on purpose out of defiance. But these years will
pass. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This isn’t
the only challenge you will go through in the coming years. You will meet more
Mr. Collinses. Someone you hoped would be a Darcy will turn out to be a Wickam
of the vilest sort. And it’s not only in romantic relationships that you will
struggle. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In less
than two months, you will be forced to make an excruciating decision. You will
know what you have to do, and will do it, but it will rip your heart out. The
months after that will be miserable. You will feel close to ok, only to have a
friend betray you, or a carpet ripped out from under your feet. You will spend
countless hours trapped in your parents’ house wanting to die. It won’t be all
bad, however! You will be come much closer to Helen and John. Helen will become
one of your best friends. She was a little kid when you left for college and
now you’ll get to know her as a young adult. Eventually, you will get a job. Not
a good one – but you will enjoy it. And, in the end, this experience will lead
you to a career that you love. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Let me
tell you a little more about the next few years. After ten months in the US,
you will move back to Hungary. While teaching on the eastern side of the
country, you will fall in love – with teaching. The next summer, you will,
willingly, move back to the US for grad school. Two years later, you will end
up in CHINA. The next summer, you will take the Trans-Mongolian Railway from
Beijing to Russia. After that, I can’t tell you; I haven’t lived it yet!<o:p></o:p></div>
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These
years won’t be easy either. You will make and lose friends. You will be
betrayed and maligned by someone you trusted. But you will make it!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Five
years to the day after that airport meeting, you will walk down the street in
Ulan Bator, Mongolia, almost crying as you mentally compose this letter. None
of this would have happened if you had tried to make that relationship work. In
the end, you probably would have gotten your heart broken along with your mind.
(For future reference, if the <u>idea </u>of kissing someone makes you feel
ill, you probably should date them!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today,
you are adventurous, happy, living a full life, and FREE. There might be a
relationship in your future, but, for now, you are too busy living your life to
mind being single.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m
going to close now before the tears escape the corners of my eyes and the
Mongolian family in my cabin on the train think I’m nuts. I am so proud of all
you/I have accomplished and I can’t wait to see what’s next!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m
rooting for you!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rose<o:p></o:p></div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-18360792196679270002014-03-14T17:20:00.000-04:002014-03-14T17:20:50.926-04:00PSANo, I'm not starting up my blog again. At least not right now. I just had to post this here because it is the only place that a certain person from my past might come in contact with me. This person refused to accept that I could not explain what a panic attack feels like. He may never see this and I'm fine with that.<br />
<br />
If you ever see this (you know who you are), please know that, while I am eternally thankful that you are not part of my life anymore, I hope that you find the very specific person you are looking for.<br />
<br />
<br />
What anxiety and panic attacks really feel like:<br />
<br />
<br />
http://blog.relationshipsurgery.com/after-seeing-these-9-images-anxiety-and-panic-attacks-all-make-sense/Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-78492352035183503412013-05-05T10:26:00.000-04:002013-05-05T10:26:39.699-04:00Ride of the Valkyries -- as interpreted by middle school studentsOver the past few months, I've done a lesson with all of my upper school students (grades 5-8) on music interpretation. I played "Ride of the Valkyries" and they had to answer questions about what the story was, who was in it, where it was, when, how it felt, etc. In every single class, at least some of them were convinced it was from Star Wars. These are some of the responses. Most of the names are kids from the classes.<br />
<br />
"School explodes, Csabi and Zalan survive. Zsolti is a zombi and Csabi kills him" <br />
<br />
"C3po is dead in a World War in Budapest at Heroes' Square.<br />
<br />
I also started taking pictures of the stories after the kids wrote them on the board... here are some of my favorites:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWqFpKNhSABmQ3WDXUSr-AbFLvIsd5iEq7WnfFYb5GttZxr-aTmKk4VS5xXmAEixO2nek0-_IxTXMqRBndYlQI1e9lAXIsWw3Rt-dAUyGNTaWVh3k1zGjVuCXAGDfqnlRmEuVAYlIRYOM/s1600/Thokoly+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWqFpKNhSABmQ3WDXUSr-AbFLvIsd5iEq7WnfFYb5GttZxr-aTmKk4VS5xXmAEixO2nek0-_IxTXMqRBndYlQI1e9lAXIsWw3Rt-dAUyGNTaWVh3k1zGjVuCXAGDfqnlRmEuVAYlIRYOM/s320/Thokoly+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
One day, the coconut go to school and meet the banana. The coconut hate the banana. So they fight. The coconut won.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
One day the banana go to the chocolate planet and he meet the pineapple. They fight but the clown stoped they, because he love olives.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-gMHWD5K5hYsslFw1Hq3GzAQYFROMumI_Obb1ELhUL0uXhzF26aLyNAj15axtAYIHVzyLMJnsP-oa7YzBzptTwSUCXLY5F0s1xLcfq_j-eskxX0_TP-ixMWO_NZJDZtSYl4IG2Jzxu8/s1600/Thokoly+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-gMHWD5K5hYsslFw1Hq3GzAQYFROMumI_Obb1ELhUL0uXhzF26aLyNAj15axtAYIHVzyLMJnsP-oa7YzBzptTwSUCXLY5F0s1xLcfq_j-eskxX0_TP-ixMWO_NZJDZtSYl4IG2Jzxu8/s320/Thokoly+004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One day Luke is go to Darth Vader with Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris is stuck Darth Vader's hair the chewing gum. And Darth Vader is don't put out his hair.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One day, Chuck Norris is go to Yoda. They are speak a long hours when come on Luke and die Chuck Norris. Yoda is go to Sweets Planet and eat lots of sweets.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BK_UJ_k6VviQthRVu2qJfs6wDkhHeIQbjcTc5Y5_Yxh8XSJSb13BWmgkygHYuv41vbRmUYDKhuLmk64cDxktMkv53FFx11gIAoX_7rhyphenhyphen5VY-ANCajyoDOZmUGPev3Cozw-K18MpzOOw/s1600/Thokoly+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BK_UJ_k6VviQthRVu2qJfs6wDkhHeIQbjcTc5Y5_Yxh8XSJSb13BWmgkygHYuv41vbRmUYDKhuLmk64cDxktMkv53FFx11gIAoX_7rhyphenhyphen5VY-ANCajyoDOZmUGPev3Cozw-K18MpzOOw/s320/Thokoly+005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One of my 5th grade classes with their stories</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMLoeY3KwoGzUs_Xy5odKwry-_CmJlyKZy6v8s6kU8tRb0W-VvmfhiTJCR4IvEZhtrzPN91HHhsUFqEE_ApaTItj3AOP6yXwCJm8ia6htzc14mL1KW5c0yn9TWxFqfq5InSP7jX0wERqw/s1600/Thokoly+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMLoeY3KwoGzUs_Xy5odKwry-_CmJlyKZy6v8s6kU8tRb0W-VvmfhiTJCR4IvEZhtrzPN91HHhsUFqEE_ApaTItj3AOP6yXwCJm8ia6htzc14mL1KW5c0yn9TWxFqfq5InSP7jX0wERqw/s320/Thokoly+007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Miklos is extra crazy mummy and kill Panna with a Miss Rose's music book. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiS929xa9fOzAUSGhWkGkXyVvgNsUJH7fsRbJKN-B4Siyb4clOcaQ-kMSuVukZ-C_4R6bvlRMxjhdoxmm5ht_hkiPIZkmjMJqQFKV64_kb5lSvpA7RK1YNd20GSf2r0a1hWqaTgMzrJGg/s1600/Thokoly+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiS929xa9fOzAUSGhWkGkXyVvgNsUJH7fsRbJKN-B4Siyb4clOcaQ-kMSuVukZ-C_4R6bvlRMxjhdoxmm5ht_hkiPIZkmjMJqQFKV64_kb5lSvpA7RK1YNd20GSf2r0a1hWqaTgMzrJGg/s320/Thokoly+008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Miklos dancing (the kan-kan) and singing the star wars music. He's wear the red skirt. The red flower in Miklos hair.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can see Dori and kill them with a sword. After eat the heart.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPA2qRZ1iHiM3jHHAFaCR61sXdxkCFZiLTX3hf4L44NncRTjam0kYkUXAbu5n6_r7XX50UvOXlV1mTXTIkN1KxFzlio1pjXbQCBIZ_n3F8jDtT7OLQyl4Tp67EQhB_EZ1Hbs0AsLGXrXo/s1600/Thokoly+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPA2qRZ1iHiM3jHHAFaCR61sXdxkCFZiLTX3hf4L44NncRTjam0kYkUXAbu5n6_r7XX50UvOXlV1mTXTIkN1KxFzlio1pjXbQCBIZ_n3F8jDtT7OLQyl4Tp67EQhB_EZ1Hbs0AsLGXrXo/s320/Thokoly+011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Szabi and Niki go to the cinema. They see a horror film in 3D. An the monster kill Szabi. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Miss Rose singing in the school at night. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J43F_kR3KOMpMCi59-fGa_0MIAQs49CklKqoafXVdZ6IXQh77PVaM3egsAHMWMkydtFoXlEJMobholAuSKakWMhyphenhyphenTAnM1fH_9wo_nQI2cVQa4vx35MiaHm2g0TshKBXRyRJHZ06wx7o/s1600/Thokoly+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J43F_kR3KOMpMCi59-fGa_0MIAQs49CklKqoafXVdZ6IXQh77PVaM3egsAHMWMkydtFoXlEJMobholAuSKakWMhyphenhyphenTAnM1fH_9wo_nQI2cVQa4vx35MiaHm2g0TshKBXRyRJHZ06wx7o/s320/Thokoly+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Bence is talking in Miss Rose's lesson in the evening.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Frankie left her leg at the disco and it go to dancing when she sleep.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi982jUlQXEcXf2UJcSSloGgHCw9HbZeVaFwAONuaPmouyjncewaaX3lUy3bk9c8oL_fxQZfzo1mxAFQs0Eq-gjXIjYfnSD18NTu2RLC4D80Yk0wF3B64P6Cps_y02pYeuKfOi6rkgW5FY/s1600/Thokoly+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi982jUlQXEcXf2UJcSSloGgHCw9HbZeVaFwAONuaPmouyjncewaaX3lUy3bk9c8oL_fxQZfzo1mxAFQs0Eq-gjXIjYfnSD18NTu2RLC4D80Yk0wF3B64P6Cps_y02pYeuKfOi6rkgW5FY/s320/Thokoly+015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Viktor Orban (Hungarian prime minister) goes to Bikini Bottom in the 1550's because Spongebob needs a new best friend. They have a great time, and they make Krabby Patties.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVkG1kPtAznTHxWbiPHT9FXTp9P0kKMmoEpKUzgzYIgRqR_JOCAd1mmK2YLy_7yeKdrVAB_gapk4_NcGr6ID5xce0XRioPRs5WD07MvjH_F5nbj5XS8DqTTFt_3c8pK-J27YmERDR3tE/s1600/Thokoly+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVkG1kPtAznTHxWbiPHT9FXTp9P0kKMmoEpKUzgzYIgRqR_JOCAd1mmK2YLy_7yeKdrVAB_gapk4_NcGr6ID5xce0XRioPRs5WD07MvjH_F5nbj5XS8DqTTFt_3c8pK-J27YmERDR3tE/s320/Thokoly+017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Gyulabaci (principal of our school) and Hitman kills Pinocchio in Gyulabacsi's office. After they eat Pinocchio's bottom in a hospital.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIO4_mjEJq2C27pUl6FCwKAmZXHtWROuZq-u_P6Ccw6UH6QD1gSnDAq_T-T-5HEP4BRGLbOLo0x4eYIJnT3wTpcZwuQU-pzIpiMUaeVVJYpLsl4J0DmkLtzzmQ2KPbcYgFq6aqLwltYE/s1600/DSCN6407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIO4_mjEJq2C27pUl6FCwKAmZXHtWROuZq-u_P6Ccw6UH6QD1gSnDAq_T-T-5HEP4BRGLbOLo0x4eYIJnT3wTpcZwuQU-pzIpiMUaeVVJYpLsl4J0DmkLtzzmQ2KPbcYgFq6aqLwltYE/s320/DSCN6407.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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In the 21st century Sponge Bob is going to catch a shark but the shark is not very happy and the shark eat Sponge Bob. He didn't die, he is going back in the time. He is very scared and he is woke up. This is a bad dream. (one of the students who often struggles -- I was very proud of her)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Obi Wan: An UFO killed Anakin.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anakin: An UFO killed me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In this time, Darth Vader started dancing for this music: Gangnam Style, and the Dark Emperor, Dora, Diego, and Jack Sparrow ... sorry ... Captain Jack Sparrow did the same.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5uE2IKHzudtQa0rWqLzrFK9TMITZRqwz6JFezLYj58rwiR58eYImnVXpZ1Gt01DS_GRSI4DOPE8B3KBik8NRGTd0UqJZ7RclR2mLTDeesP0XhO43bK8ZiiNHdIoKJXZs7yCowXzg3M0/s1600/DSCN6405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5uE2IKHzudtQa0rWqLzrFK9TMITZRqwz6JFezLYj58rwiR58eYImnVXpZ1Gt01DS_GRSI4DOPE8B3KBik8NRGTd0UqJZ7RclR2mLTDeesP0XhO43bK8ZiiNHdIoKJXZs7yCowXzg3M0/s320/DSCN6405.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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In 300BC, Dora the explorer is singing gypsy music. After she meets with PSY at the Krusty Krab. Spongebob serves them hamburger. :) At the end, they make a Harlem Shake video.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At the 19th century Obi Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader fought at the White House. The President killed himself, because he heard the music which was boring. Then Dora the explorer went to the White House and she saw when they were fighting. Then she picked up a sword and killed Darth Vader. After it she went back to the TV and sang a song called Gangnam style and started dancing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoxt9sjlc3BMm34A4-tSJGFwiz_iP9n7KD3x5jonUTWBetkyZGt8USNPzZG1JzjpBhhGCvqCf80093DqhKPiWW_IQOUcQ2BjjhAvX0yIHkrIKrb4QBLmu3ceuEgWnUt45gn8jKoVzxH0/s1600/DSCN6403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoxt9sjlc3BMm34A4-tSJGFwiz_iP9n7KD3x5jonUTWBetkyZGt8USNPzZG1JzjpBhhGCvqCf80093DqhKPiWW_IQOUcQ2BjjhAvX0yIHkrIKrb4QBLmu3ceuEgWnUt45gn8jKoVzxH0/s320/DSCN6403.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In 3200 BC yoda singing in the white house with the beautiful spiderman.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Dora THE EXPLORER</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away ... When Dora was playing computer games, she was attacked by Darth Vader. Dora dueled him for 5k$. Dora won and she killed her pet monkeys 'cos she won. After one week Dora died in a heart-attack.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
HOPE YOU WILL ENJOY</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"The force may be with you"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While I am very much looking forward to not teaching middle school after this year there are fun bits sometimes.</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-49590149079828205622013-04-15T21:28:00.001-04:002013-04-15T21:28:35.913-04:00Third time's a charm: a tale of three grandpas<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I was 11, my grandpa got very
sick. We didn't know until the very end but he had been fighting bone
cancer for a long time and it hadn't been treated because the doctors
insisted it was just diabetes complications. He was in hospice at
home and I remember visiting and trying to avoid sitting in the
living room because it was just too depressing to see the once vibrant
man lying on the sofa hardly able to move. I also distinctly remember
a “hospital smell” that didn't help things at all. One of the
times we visited, I sneaked out of the house without going and saying
good-bye. He died before I could see him again.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At 18, my grandpa died unexpectedly. My
family was living in Europe at the time and only my mom was able to
fly back for the funeral. I didn't feel the guilt like I did the
first time because I hadn't chosen to ignore him but I still missed
it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My grandpa is retiring this year from
his job as professor/choir director at my university. He has been one
of the biggest inspirations in my life for the past seven years. I
don't know how many classes I had with him in school (definitely more
than 12). He accompanied me on both my junior and senior recitals as
well as many juries and concerts. We roadtripped with assorted other
music students to choral festivals. He was always ready to discuss
problems and help in any way he could. I felt a huge connection to
him from the very beginning which has only grown over the years. I could write on and on about this man and the impact he has had in my life but I'll sum it up pretty simply: if someday I am half the teacher he is, I will have done my job.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFLueWya_dTqmTAeS9Nok8T8OAMss3wFYIihNt35T59DxmKffF3D6ppnM6NuZGMFmkUWBAEIVcPoM3oL6xhW0bK3TdBM73jpKwC9Cbfsaztp_IJOBPg0JKUTVHiQOi0-TBneum9jCjNM/s1600/DSCN6411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFLueWya_dTqmTAeS9Nok8T8OAMss3wFYIihNt35T59DxmKffF3D6ppnM6NuZGMFmkUWBAEIVcPoM3oL6xhW0bK3TdBM73jpKwC9Cbfsaztp_IJOBPg0JKUTVHiQOi0-TBneum9jCjNM/s320/DSCN6411.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In front of University Choir</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I heard that he was retiring, I
knew I had to make it home for his last concert. Thankfully, this was
a much happier occasion than a funeral but I knew I would always
regret it if I couldn't come. I wasn't going to let this opportunity
slip through my fingers. I kept my trip a secret from almost
everyone. I am friends with him on facebook so I was especially
careful not to mention anything on there. By the week before my trip
only four of my friends (and my immediate family) knew I would be in
the States.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FJgWbk23ar4CQ-P02msV92PUbrH4lCsXp9uuYXl9njrhGgO6DLk0YOkIj3ZCIm7dxpbxZrXaI-9s07qPJr1f4peFyo3vkJk-vCdwUpNwF8dW8Hjyj8vYAhKjYWvx3OIvqVfVHFCdNbw/s1600/DSCN6417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FJgWbk23ar4CQ-P02msV92PUbrH4lCsXp9uuYXl9njrhGgO6DLk0YOkIj3ZCIm7dxpbxZrXaI-9s07qPJr1f4peFyo3vkJk-vCdwUpNwF8dW8Hjyj8vYAhKjYWvx3OIvqVfVHFCdNbw/s320/DSCN6417.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching philosophy: every lesson should have an "AAhh," "Ahha," and "Haha" moment</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Most of this blog post is being written
while I sit in airports before and between my flights going back to
Hungary. I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to travel home
for this concert. Yesterday, I spent most of the day in PA. I saw
friends who I haven't seen in years. I had a chance to catch up with
various professors. And, best of all, I saw the way his eyes
lit up in shock when he realized I had come from Hungary just for the
concert. He later mentioned it in the middle of the concert as he
spoke of how touched he was that so many music alums had made it.
“Someone even came all the way from Hungary. Yes, for real.” I
had multiple people come up to me after saying they had no idea I was
there until they heard what he said. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNivGIZepKTzK0tGLDB1QgIEYiqWSBz7XPSO6UNT1ihpH0ouSctt6tp9DHz-dZyitgGKexRMM1HwhPLLWVj4jK_1sw_YvG824Diy9LrhKjtmTW2uQG_2-g9hVHi05k9Msaw4XflUP42E/s1600/DSCN6418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNivGIZepKTzK0tGLDB1QgIEYiqWSBz7XPSO6UNT1ihpH0ouSctt6tp9DHz-dZyitgGKexRMM1HwhPLLWVj4jK_1sw_YvG824Diy9LrhKjtmTW2uQG_2-g9hVHi05k9Msaw4XflUP42E/s320/DSCN6418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the end, I wouldn't change a thing
about my trip. It was completely worth the cost and travel time even
though I was traveling nearly as long as my time in the US. Besides
the concert, I was able to spend time with another friend today
(Monday), see my therapist, had a dr. appt, ate tons of Mexican food,
enjoyed two full days of ungraded English conversation, purchased
more stickers for my students, had a phone interview about my
internship for next year, and spent time with my family. I've needed
this trip with how lonely I have been (I had two friends last
semester – one moved to Budapest, the other “broke up with me”
because she claims she has too many meetings to ever see me).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_T6Ze23nxxndKxPJOqF52v6XtZYv2PEa5H-Dah-k_rpuQsiRv6Z3-ZZh6ZUD2bq0qH355IAJGlN2nZEIfCvIeLVQB1f22CoYgzToFQ3m6FpWrDvqExk4hfrN1jjPf930NaQvsjkL8U4/s1600/DSCN6420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_T6Ze23nxxndKxPJOqF52v6XtZYv2PEa5H-Dah-k_rpuQsiRv6Z3-ZZh6ZUD2bq0qH355IAJGlN2nZEIfCvIeLVQB1f22CoYgzToFQ3m6FpWrDvqExk4hfrN1jjPf930NaQvsjkL8U4/s320/DSCN6420.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With some of the other "music kids"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I might have messed things up the first
two times with my grandpas but I have nothing to regret about this
time.</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-87372583793251354482013-02-16T04:19:00.001-05:002013-02-16T04:19:37.456-05:00Just an average day at the marketThis is one of the many things I will miss when I move back to the States.<br />
<br />
6 eggs<br />
1 large bulb of garlic<br />
3 big oranges<br />
1 cucumber<br />
1/2 lb beautiful mushrooms<br />
and<br />
1 beeswax candle (from the woman who probably made it)<br />
<br />
Grand total - 1260ft ($5.77)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP71iXN6msIcHilzyLbDFraGrapkVJqWCU6a19B424yj_5TwfiF5D3LKSp_RSoG4x7zWGCOgNKbwTIrAutdHSPJ4wjPKwgoQJzcEqCGGdkUlfU_1IP8iNZNy5t95WYxlP3G0UF7iTZ1dc/s1600/Feb162013+215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP71iXN6msIcHilzyLbDFraGrapkVJqWCU6a19B424yj_5TwfiF5D3LKSp_RSoG4x7zWGCOgNKbwTIrAutdHSPJ4wjPKwgoQJzcEqCGGdkUlfU_1IP8iNZNy5t95WYxlP3G0UF7iTZ1dc/s320/Feb162013+215.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Total without the candle - 760ft ($3.48)Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-8660888949372123992013-02-13T14:53:00.001-05:002013-02-13T14:53:36.146-05:00Personal StatementThis is for my University of Bridgeport application. The program is a Master of Science in Elementary Education with initial certification. The first year of the program is comprised of interning in a local elementary school and classes in the evenings. The last months are for student teaching. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!<br />
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Staring
at my bookcase, I wonder when the education books began to outnumber
the music scores. When exactly did I start to purchase teaching texts
over aria compilations? What changed my goal from staring in Mozart
operas to being Miss Kovach and teaching about Columbus, baking soda
volcanoes, and multiplication? The important thing, however, is not
how this change occurred but the simple fact that it did. </span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> I
came to love teaching through experience. Becoming a teacher was not
something I planned. At first, teaching was simply an excuse to move
to Hungary. I was ill prepared and had little knowledge of what
teaching actually required. I had worked as a kindergarten assistant
and taught a few preschool classes for an education course in college
but those were little preparation for facing a classroom of middle
school students. My first day was terrifying. I remember thinking “at
least I never have to have another FIRST first day of teaching!”
Despite my apprehension, I am proud of my accomplishments that first
year as a teacher. Of course there were problems, but as a brand new
teacher with little support, just making it through the year was a
victory. Now in my second year as a full-time teacher, I have
realized teaching is more than a means to an end. I love teaching and
I want to obtain certification which will broaden my opportunities as
well as help me become a better teacher who can inspire students to
love learning.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> The
certification program at University of Bridgeport is particularly
appealing to me because of the internship part of the program. After
spending two years as a teacher, I hope to continue to develop
through experience as well as formal education. The opportunity to
apply what I will be learning directly into my internship will be a
better means of reinforcement than any test or paper could ever be.
Additionally, I strongly believe that teachers have an obligation to
be both educators and role models to their students. The opportunity
to work with and learn from experienced teachers in my placement will
provide very practical and applicable knowledge in these areas. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> My
professional goal after completing my certification is to become a
classroom teacher in an international schoo<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">l.
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Grades 2-4 are
particularly appealing to me, because students are excited to learn
and ready to continue building on the foundation created during
nursery, kindergarten, and first grade. </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">In
my two years as an English teach</span>er in Hungary, I have seen how
important it is to be an ambassador for my country. I may be the only
American my students ever meet so it is vital that I make a good
impression. Additionally, the children in international schools have
a special set of needs and, having lived outside of the US as a
child, I understand what some of those challenges can be. With this
c<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">ertification and degree, I hope
to be better equipped to educate and inspire my students. </span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-52226228632638857382013-01-27T15:24:00.002-05:002013-01-27T15:24:48.256-05:00The men of Pride and Prejudice ... and meIt's been two years. Two years since I started the most damaging relationship of my life. Six months of getting caught and dragged into the mindset of someone who has even larger mental issues than I do. My counselor once laughed (kindly) when I expressed my anger that I wasn't "over" the situation. She said that like a broken leg or any other injury, things take time to heal. That was three months after the relationship ended. I wonder what she would say if she saw me now. It's been a year and a half since I broke up with him. I'm still angry. I wish I could be the bigger person and wish him well. I know he didn't mean to destroy me the way he did. Tonight, I realized another piece of the puzzle. How can he be over me (at least, I hope he is when he's back on the dating site where we met - something I adamantly refuse to do) when I am still a wreck? I guess it takes less time to heal a broken heart than a broken mind.<br />
<br />
I've been thinking about Pride and Prejudice lately. That book has never been one of my favorites. I tried reading it when I was 10 or 11, had to read it in 8th grade, and then tried at least once after that. While I have always enjoyed the film adaptations, the book just irritated me. That changed in the past month. I have been watching (and loving) The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on youtube for months. This modern adaptation of P&P is quirky, hilarious, and engaging. Without saying too much about it, I highly recommend it. Now that I've reread and actually "get" P&P, I've been thinking about it almost non-stop. I've realized that I've liked, dated, and/or been liked by nearly every man in the book in some form or another.<br />
<br />
Mr. Collins - had Lizzie married him, it would have destroyed her mind. Her heart as well, but currently, I think a broken mind is worse. I had to laugh when I saw an interview with the actor who plays Mr. Collins on LBD. His description of the role sounds just like the person mentioned above as well as others who have tried to get that close. <br />
<br />
Wickham (hardly deserves a title) - such a despicable human being. While he broke Lizzie's heart, she was lucky enough not to have been close enough to have given him her mind. I liked one. Not enough to have my heart was broken when his true colors were revealed, thankfully, but enough to be filled with disgust and anger over someone who could exploit the innocent in such a way. Thankfully, as in the book, his situation has permanently changed to prevent further occurrences. <br />
<br />
Fitzwilliam - at least in the world of LBD - every girl's best friend. Doesn't do well with more than that. <br />
<br />
Bingley (or Bing Lee - LBD) - a kind, gentleman but, ultimately, too gentle for Lizzie. At least the Bing's that I have liked have retained my respect after the attraction faded. <br />
<br />
I'm missing one. Oh, right, Mr. Darcy.<br />
<br />
Sigh. I like to think there is one out there for me. Who knows. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-16666851702779652152013-01-06T14:48:00.001-05:002013-01-06T14:48:58.573-05:00Happy New Year!2012 is over! Hallelujah!! What started as the most miserable months of my life (maybe even worse than my time at Central) finished with a bang in London's Trafalgar Square with my sister, Helen. Now, I'm back at home dealing with the enormous let-down that comes after two weeks of Christmas vacation and Helen's returning to the States.<br />
<br />
I had a wonderful visit with Helen. She arrived a few days before school ended and visited my classes for two days before Christmas break. Once school was finished, we spent a few days around my town, visiting the market in Debrecen, going to the spa, decorating for Christmas, making caramels, roasting a duck for Christmas dinner, visiting my vice-principal's house, and other assorted things around Szoboszlo. Although, I much prefer living in Budapest, it was nice to be able to show someone my little town.<br />
<br />
The day after Christmas, we took the train to Budapest and spent a very rainy day walking around. We tried to go to the ice rink at City Park and the Christmas Market but both were closed due to the rain. We did make it to dinner at our family's favorite restaurant. At this point, things got crazy because I had to run home (3 hours each way on the train) to get my inhaler. Both of us had bad colds and I didn't want to risk 10 days without it. After I arrived back to Budapest, we barely made our flight to London and arrived exhausted.<br />
<br />
Our original plan had been to visit Sarajevo because I enjoyed it so much over Fall break and I thought Helen would like it too. This fell apart when the Hungarian train system cut the direct route from BP to Sarajevo which would have made the trip twice as long. We scrambled at the last minute to find something else to do and decided to go to London and Dublin. It was a wonderful decision. There were plenty of bumps in the road as we had to find hostels and flights over New Year's but everything got sorted out in the end. I would NEVER stay at Heathrow Lodge again (I don't think our room had ever been cleaned... ick!) but we could afford it and made do.<br />
<br />
Except for our hostel situation, London was fantastic. I can't wait for my next chance to go back! We got the London Pass which worked really well for us - included travel (important since we were staying about an hour from the city center) and was simpler than buying tickets everywhere we went. We saw Westminster Cathedral, Westminister Abbey, Buckingham Palace (the Queen was home), the Household Cavalry Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral, Tower Bridge, The Tower of London, toured the National Theater backstage (disappointing because they didn't show the costume areas), toured the replica of the Globe Theater (I got to be a model in the costume demonstration... almost made up for the National Theater), got to see Tower Bridge raise and lower, watched New Year's fireworks from Trafalgar Square, Big Ben (not nearly as big as I expected), and probably a bunch that I'm forgetting.<br />
<br />
Both Helen and I got very excited, and subsequently disappointed, over two different church services we hoped to attend on Sunday. Helen wanted to see/hear her favorite boy's choir singing Evensong at their home church but they were gone for Christmas break. I have been dying to attend an Anglican-use Catholic Mass since B16 established the Personal Ordinariates. Unfortunately, the one I found was also on Christmas break so we just went to a "regular" Mass. More things for us to look forward to for our next visits.<br />
<br />
On New Year's Day, we flew from London to Dublin and spent a few days in a city very important to our family's history. My Dad remembers the math teachers' party at which my Mom met him in Wisconsin, but doesn't remember meeting her. He first remembers meeting her in a train station in Dublin when they were both there for a conference. Six to eight first dates later, there was finally a third, fourth, etc date and the rest is history. Neither of my parents could remember which train station but we visited both.<br />
<br />
In Dublin, we went on a walking tour led by a local grad student who shared loads of info about the history of Ireland and Dublin. It was fascinating to hear, especially about the Catholic history of the country. We didn't see nearly as much in Dublin as in London, but I wasn't as interested in it as a city. It was nice to visit but I don't see myself back any time soon. One thing that shocked me was how expensive it was. I never would have expected it to be more expensive than London. One of our days we spent on a day trip/bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher and Galway. That was my favorite part of Ireland. It was so beautiful and our drivers/tour guides were very informative and entertaining.<br />
<br />
The food in both places was fantastic! We ate so much cheddar cheese it's amazing we didn't turn orange. Living in a country that tends to have mostly bland cheese, I was in heaven. I also loved the fish and chips. I don't buy fish very often and tend to be picky but both places we got fish and chips were amazing. The fish was mild and creamy with a soft/crunchy shell (yes, I realize that doesn't make much sense). The chips were good too but I found the fish to be the real star of those meals. Our last night in Ireland, I had an amazing Steak and Guinness pie which I think I could eat almost everyday of my life. Although we were in London where Helen (at 17) could have legally drank, we didn't have much alcohol on the trip. I had a London's Best in the little pub next to our hostel in London and a Guinness in Dublin but wasn't impressed with either. I did really enjoy the Classic Pimm's that I had in London though. <br />
<br />
We arrived back to Budapest on Saturday morning and spent the rest of the day visiting pastry shops and getting some last minute shopping done for Helen. She flew out this morning and I took the train back to Szoboszlo. School starts again tomorrow morning and I have massive amounts of laundry to do but I am choosing to enjoy my last night by doing a whole lot of nothing.<br />
<br />
Pictures will be on FB and I may try to add some to this post later.<br />
<br />
Happy New Year everyone!!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-90185765617441634292012-11-23T17:49:00.000-05:002012-11-23T17:49:09.074-05:00Shakespeare and the monkeyOnce upon a time, in a kingdom far away, an actor and an actress met and fell in love. Eventually, they had a daughter who they named Elizabeth. When Elizabeth was young, she promised she would never be an actress like her parents. As time passed, however, a strange sequence of events resulted in Elizabeth being thrown into a season of Shakespearean dramas. To her great surprise, she loved acting. Shakespeare was her favorite because there was so much substance to his plays. She decided that she wanted to become a professional Shakespearean actress.<br />
<br />
After many failed audition attempts, Elizabeth secured a place with an acting troupe. It was not quite Shakespeare but she was confident that she could use (and continue to develop) her talent which would help her be a better actress. As with any company, the first few shows were rough but Elizabeth thought it just needed time. Unfortunately, time only made things worse.<br />
<br />
Eventually, Elizabeth realized the awful truth. She had been hired by a circus and turned into a performing monkey by a powerful magician. She had been reciting monologues and blocking scenes when all they wanted her to do was stand on a ball, pat her head, and rub her tummy. At first, Elizabeth tried to resist. They might have turned her into a monkey but she knew who she really was. She continued on, trying to share Shakespeare with those who visited the zoo. Unfortunately, the zookeepers were not happy with this. They had to find a way to make her stop.<br />
<br />
The answer came with a simple strip of duct tape. The zookeepers placed this tape across Elizabeth-monkey's mouth and sent her back into the cage. Poor Elizabeth was heartbroken. After rejecting acting for so long, she was finally ready to perform and was now restricted to eating bananas (yes, there was a mysterious way she still could eat them even with the duct tape.. it's a fairy tale... don't question it) and scratching her head and armpits.<br />
<br />
One day, a wiser monkey came to visit Elizabeth. This monkey knew that Elizabeth was not really a monkey. The wiser monkey told Elizabeth that the zookeepers did not really want an actor but only a monkey. She knew that she was better than that but she also had to accept that all the zoo wanted was a performing monkey and they would keep finding more ways to punish her when she tried to do more complicated performances. Elizabeth was still sad but she agreed to pretend to be a monkey. It was simply not worth fighting about because the zookeepers would always win.<br />
<br />
TBC?<br />
<br />
In other news, I still love extended metaphors and Happy Thanksgiving (one day late).Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-57713133583784929762012-10-13T06:23:00.002-04:002012-10-13T06:23:44.004-04:00Everyday life in SzoboszloIt's been a while since I've written. Not because I've been particularly busy but because it doesn't feel like much has been happening - in the most wonderful way possible. I am settling in and Szoboszlo feels like home. I teach, lesson plan, shop, go to choir practice, make it into Debrecen for Mass some weeks and others just go here in town, I cook, I watch tv, normal everyday things. It's hard for me to remember that this isn't "normal" for everyone reading my blog because it seems so natural to me.<br />
<br />
One of my main goals this year was to figure out if I love living in Hungary or if I just love living in Budapest. I've only been here a month and a half but I know the answer quite definitely. I love living in Hungary. Last Saturday, I got up early and took the train to Budapest for the day to see some of the other CETP teachers. It was very strange because I had never "visited" Budapest before. Of course, I've lived there and I have seen many of the sights and I know my way around, but I had never gone there just to visit. Comparing it to Szoboszlo was bizarre. I love Budapest, it's a wonderful city and I will always be grateful for my years there, but now I can see more of its flaws. The city is big, dirty, noisy, and smelly. I am happy to be this close (2.5 hours by train) and be able to visit every so often rather than live there.<br />
<br />
School is going well. Slowly but surely I am learning names (hard when I have ~425 students!!). At this point, I know most of the students who misbehave as well as the excellent ones but I still need to learn the rest. I would venture a guess that I know about a quarter of the names (when they are in class... it's much harder when I see them in the hall and don't have a class to associate them with). Not bad when you figure I've only had five classes with most of them (I was out sick for three days in September with a bad cold)! The kids are sweet, it was quite an adjustment at first because they speak much less English than those at my last school but I am figuring out how to make things work. My favorite classes to teach are 1st grade (they are so so adorable), 5th grade (very small classes and they are bright/hard working kids), and one of my 8th grade classes (they focus better than any of my other classes and we get things done much quicker - which means they get more time to play games - it's a win-win situation!). <br />
<br />
I am still playing the "I don't know what you're saying, tell me in English" card and will do so as long as I can. Of course, I slip up every once in a while and respond to something they say but I tend to play it off and be extra "clueless" for the rest of the class. Even though I don't respond, it is very helpful to know what they are talking about. I would prefer that they not swear in Hungarian in my class but I'm not sure how to deal with that without "exposing" my knowledge. I have given most of my upper school classes a piece of my mind when they have slipped and sworn in English. <br />
<br />
Finding creative ways to manage my classes is a bit of a challenge but I'm getting better at it. All of my students need to have a name tag (we made them the first week of classes) so that I can see who they are and I have different tactics for different grades to ensure that they have them. First and second get stickers if they have them and a sad face if they don't; I think I may start recording more closely with rewards if they have a certain number of stickers. Third grade gets an X if they don't have it and after three Xes I'll be talking to their teacher. The fourth graders are getting a taste of my childhood - if they don't have their name tag and/or notebook I assign 15-25 sentences for the next week: I will bring my notebook/name tag to Miss Rose's class. We are having a contest in fifth and sixth grades and the class loses points if they do not have their name tag. In seventh and eighth, I give them time at the beginning of class to make a new name tag if they don't bring one. I count how many minutes of my teaching time it takes them and then I take the same number of minutes from their break at the end of class. In general, stickers are a wonderful reward for anything. I haven't used them in 7th or 8th but even the 6th graders get very excited to get them for a good mark on an exercise in class. All in all, I really love teaching. It's funny since I never expected to be doing it but I can see myself teaching for a very long time.<br />
<br />
All my paperwork is completed. It was fantastic, I only had to go to immigration in Debrecen once. And, had the officer not mistyped my name in the form, it would have taken about an hour. As it was, we were finished in an hour and a half. Two weeks later I received a letter saying my residency application was accepted and another week or so later, I received my residence permit. Both of those came by registered mail so I only had to go to the post office and pick them up. The school has been so organized with all my paperwork. I have been very thankful because it saves so much time, energy, and worry that one of my papers will be misplaced.<br />
<br />
My health card took a little longer to get which was almost a problem when I was sick. I had a nasty cold (just a cold this time... I didn't let it develop into bronchitis or anything!) and had go to the doctor. That was challenging because my contact teacher was in England on a school trip. I ended up calling Hajni, our program director. She called the school and one of the other teachers took me to the doctor after the principal called the doctor's office. My doctor is directly across the street which is great because it only take a minute or two to get there depending on when the lights turn. The pharmacy is around the corner from the doctor - I can still almost see it from my balcony. Despite not having my health card, I was able to see the doctor and got prescriptions for antibiotics (which I took even though it turned out not to be bacterial), nose spray, cough medicine, and vitamin c. The appointment was free and the prescriptions cost about 6000ft (a little under $30) all together. I think the three days of rest which the doctor also prescribed did more than the rest! I've gotten my health card since then so, while I hope I won't have to go back, things should be fine if I do.<br />
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As I mentioned above, I'm singing in a choir in Szoboszlo. It's held at the music-focused elementary school for the teachers there and other people from the town. We have a concert this afternoon at my church to celebrate the beginning of the Year of Faith. Most of the members are much older than I am (there are a few in their 30-40s but most are 50-60) but it's nice to have a place to sing. I may be joining a choir in Debrecen as well. My contact teacher's best friend teaches in the music school at the University of Debrecen and I met her yesterday. She invited me to join the Debrecen university/community choir AND is going to help me get set up with a voice teacher from the school for private lessons!!<br />
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The mail seems to be great here - I've gotten everything that people have sent quite quickly - so feel free to send me something!<br />
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Kovach Rose<br />
Szilfakalja utca 6 2/5<br />
Hajduszoboszlo<br />
4200<br />
HungaryRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4308836824328499008.post-17787987015113123382012-09-29T12:08:00.001-04:002012-09-29T12:08:10.121-04:00Dear Subconscious: Shut Up. It's been almost a year since my decision to swear off relationships. Most of the year has been fine. So much has happened (crap and otherwise) that a relationship would have just complicated everything. Not to mention the fact that I truly believe it's better for society if I am single. The past few weeks, my subconscious has been rebelling against me. So many strange dreams about me being with different guys in all sorts of romantic situations. Possibly the result of too much Downton Abbey, who knows. The most frustrating thing is that I know most of the guys I'm dreaming about. And, for the most part, I've either dated or wanted to date them IN THE PAST. For a variety of reasons (good, bad, and neutral), none of them are date-able and that's fine. I don't want to date them or anyone else.<br />
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I've woken up gagging over a dream to free a criminal so that I could marry him.<br />
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I've woken up bewildered after a dream in which I was married to a gay guy.<br />
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There have been plenty of others which I don't remember all the details.<br />
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Last night, I had a cute dream about being on a school camping trip with a ton of people (we were students) and sneaking into this guy's (not someone I know) room so that we could pray night prayer together. Apparently, neither of us knew that the other was interested but it seemed like we were on the brink of finding out when I woke up. I had a split view both first person and third person omniscient but then the way he had his arm around me wasn't exactly subtle either. This was definitely the most "realistic" of the dreams I've had lately in terms of what I could see myself actually doing (minus being students) had I not sworn off relationships. I wish I could want it to be reality.<br />
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I definitely do not believe this dream "means" anything. The last time I had a dream which I thought was foreshadowing turned into a big mess. First, I thought the guy was a neighbor of my parents' who I MAY have spoken 100 words to in my entire life. Second, it was a new student at my uni who I proceeded to pine over for two years. I later became friends with his girlfriend (now fiancée) and she found it hilarious that her boyfriend had been the "man of my dreams." Thirdly, I thought it was my rad-trad ex from last summer -- definitely the worst option out of the bunch.<br />
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So, I don't think my dream last night meant anything. But it didn't help that I saw someone who looked just like a "grown up" version of the guy. Sure, the guy is attractive. Yes, I noticed that he didn't have a ring (on either hand). But, NO, I am not going to try and meet him, obsess over him, etc. etc. like myself a year ago would have. My track record just isn't worth it. (And that's not even considering my "slightly older Hungarian man" record because I do not hold one disgusting person's transgressions against a country which condemns his actions just as much as the US does.)<br />
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Seriously, though, the dreams need to stop. <br />
<br />Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03325576300752777588noreply@blogger.com0