Ideas: A National Crisis

Project brainstorming is hard; getting into the mindset of a 12 year-old Bulgarian is not an easy task. You have to ask yourself "is this worthwhile?", "is this sustainable after I leave?", and "does anyone really care about baseball?". Peace Corps Volunteers have a high rate of success in their projects, but occasionally, there is a few miscues. I present to you, the top 5 worst Peace Corps Projects*:

5. How-To Class on Internet Piracy
4. George Bush Appreciation Society
3. Big Mac Eating Contest
2. Amy Whinehouse Dress-Up Day
1. Gladiatorial Combat







(*This list in entirely fictional, and has never, ever even entered the though process of the wonderful volunteers of Peace Corps Bulgaria,...promise)

My Childhood: Part Deux

Question I get all the time is 'why did you join the peace corps'? There is no one reason and I doubt piece together one in this brief entry. However, one small piece of my development is attributed directly to one person. No, not my wonderful parents, or my brother, not this is someone outside the bloodline. Of course, I am talking about my childhood idol and hero, Ken Griffey Jr. If you are around my age, liked baseball as a kid, then you know where I am coming from. Mix in the fact that I lived in Seattle for 8 years, and it makes perfect sense. Why then am I talking about this 39 year old soon-to-be-hall-of-famer? Because the greatest thing to happen to Seattle since a couple of nerds built computers in their garage has happened:



9 years later and the prodigal son returns...

This really has nothing to do with Peace Corps, Bulgaria...but no one said excitment was rational.

Next entry topic: Why Warren Moon should come back to the Seahawks

Best Question Ever

This isn't a full entry; just a quick note:

On monday, someone asked me: "Tobias, what does "Space Jam" mean?"

And now I realize why I am here,...and I couldn't be happier

Why does Thursday the 12th get the shaft?

Its Thursday, February 12, which can only mean its time for a blog entry.

This time I thought I would focus on anyone who is coming to Bulgaria in the near future. Any questions, feel free to ask.

The first picture is intended for any prospective Peace Corps Volunteers who are coming from a warm climate to the magical lands of Bulgaria:



yes, these were once shoes. Get ready people, it is going to be cold. However, don't think its all bad,....you can improvise...



Snow+frozen pizza= just the way mom made it,...or you and your roommates in college did.

And on the subject of collegiate friendships, Bulgaria is ripe with remembrances of years past. The third largest (and best) city in Bulgaria, Varna, has an amazing mall with digital projection movie theatre, KFC AND Subway but also the best arcade I have seen since elementary school. What does this have to do with friends from my university days? Not much, but this picture sums up everything that is great about America:




When you play this game, a single tear rolls down your cheek,...and it is red, white and blue,...and it is searching for Osama Bin Laden.

From rambant Patriotism, we move right along to what makes my job so great; the kids (cue:awwwwww). I play soccer with them, or they ask to see my killer jump shot. If I even get close to the backboard, they all cheer for me. Biggest ego boost around.




My homeboys and girls are great, but when we play soccer, they also stick me in goal, and I'm not allowed to kick the ball (I think this is for my own protection or to keep my shoes pristine,...not sure). However, they ask me to throw the ball, which is wierd, but it seems entertaining to them. So I do a little wind up, and hurl the ball, which always get a giant cheer.

That about does it, but I promise to be a little more timely with the next entry.

Celluoid birthday

Today I turn 23, or in the words of my good friend Kelsey, "You are just two years away from legally renting a car". To commemorate this silver, no,...ah,...quartz?....whatever 23 works out to, I decided to take a stroll down memory lane the only way I knew how: through movies. I wanted to look back at all the movies that have influenced me through the years. In trying to think of a list, in somewhat chronological order, all I could come up with was this:



which soon led me to:



at which point I thought of:




So now I'm thinking: Did I fail? Based on these films, all I should aspire to be is a ninja who a) surfs b) solves crimes c) has a grandfather of asian descent even though his parents are clearly of anglo-saxon origin. But to break these down: I'm afraid to get punched, kicked, or slapped in the face which probably eliminates the ninja lifestyle. I would say surfing is in option, but since I was 10 I have been mortally afraid of stingrays which might create a problem. Then theres the wise mentor. I, personaly, do not know any 6 foot talking rats with an encyclopedic knowledge of the warrior code, nor do I come from a long line of mystic ninjas. Therefore, I come to the conclusion that being 8 was awesome or life in the early 90's was taken for granted.

So in conclusion, thank you for all the birthday wishes, and to the parents with kids born in the 80's who graciously chaperoned trips to the cineplex or were dragged against there will to toys-r-us to buy the latest Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures: thank you...and COWABUNGA!

Today is january 25th, and judging by my last entry, this means I am very lazy. This statement is only half true. While I am on the lazy side (my alarm clock is set for 11am) I had a busy, busy couple of weeks. First and foremost, I went to the glorious city known to the world as Amsterdam. I will remember by another name: "The place with the best cheese, thai food, hamburgers and french fries, and every other emenity I have been missing for the past 6 months". Sadly, my camera had no batteries so if your curious about my travels, google "food" and "Amsterdam" and that should bring you up to speed. However, of particular interest for this trip was where I stayed: The Amsterdam Hilton. Now, Hilton hotels have been synonomous with my vacations, mostly because my dad's name is Hilton and my middle name is Hilton, but the Amsterdam Hilton was different. It was the site of John Lennon and Yoko Ono's famous Bed-In to promote world peace. Or in the words of wikipedia (whoever words those may be):
"Knowing their March 20, 1969 marriage would be a huge press event, John and Yoko decided to use the publicity to promote world peace. They spent their honeymoon in the presidential suite (Room #702) at the Amsterdam Hilton Hotel for a week between March 25 and 31, inviting the world's press into their hotel room every day between 9 a.m. and 9 p.m. After their other stunts, such as the nude cover of the Two Virgins album, the press were expecting them to be having sex, but instead the couple were sitting in bed—in John's words "like Angels"—talking about peace with signs over their bed reading "Hair Peace" and "Bed Peace"."

Big display in the lobby and our room happened to be on the 6th floor which is the closest I came to touching history.

Take care every one,....and give peace a chance

Hey Party People-

Usually, there is a log jam of "year in review" articles at or around the 31st of December. They are amusing, but kind of grow into a feeling of resentment or gloating. To buck this trend I thought it would only be appropriate for a new approach:

"The First Firsts"

First time I've even been bit by a dog (no skin puncture, just ripped jeans)

First time I have had (and purchased) a beer in a movie theatre

First time I have seen someone crash a bike,...while walking it

First time I've been driven around in a donkey cart

First time I've seen an indoor skating rink that is actually just white plywood

First time I've been asked to translate the words to a Lil' Wayne song

First time I've been referred to only as "English" by a neighbor (i.e. "How are you, English?")

First time I've been paid more for shipping an handling than the actual item I want to ship

First time I've even been schooled by a 10 year old in soccer

First time I've throw garbage into a dumpster only to have a cat jump out at me

First time I've had homemade alcohol

First time I've been asked to drink homemade alcohol before I've had breakfast

First time I've seen peanut butter and did a celebratory fist pump

First time I've watched a live sporting event at 3am

First time I've seen energy drinks sold in 2 liters,....yes,...2 liters.



So there you have it. Confusing, amusing, and always entertaining.




And with my first 5 months committed to the history facebook, I eagerly await the next 21. I hope everyone had a wonderful new years and may you all seize the world of possibilities 09' has at our collective fingertips.

To the Lonestar State, to Buffa-love, to Tahoe, to The Great Pacific Northwest and all the peguins in between; Happy 2009

Kavarna is a beautiful town. I love it. Can't get enough of it. The only glaring problem I find is the noticeable lack of street signs. To get anywhere I have to rely on something much greater than signs...rock stars. Sit back, put on some classic tunes (preferably anyone who was popular 20 years ago, dust off your leather jacket and enjoy.







From Seattle to Orange County to Buffalo to Tena, hope all is well.

Balto 2008

Thanksgiving: A time to be with family, a time to celebrate the blessings in your life, a time to walk on the highway at 5 in the morning...well, only in Bulgarian.
This weekend was my fist Thanksgiving in a foriegn country, and my first doing battle with Bulgarian transportation. So far, I have been lucky, and every trip I've done on has involved a direct route and no real problems. This weekend, BG got the better of TH Hewitt. Here is a play by play of my trip:

Friday 7pm: Take the last bus to Varna, 3rd biggest city in Bulgaria, with the goal of taking a night bus to Yablanitsa. The bus leaves at 11:45pm, which gives me enough yime to catch a movie, buy 11 cheeseburgers for thanksgiving, and leave in a timely manner.
Friday 10:45pm: Saw "Body of Lies" and left wanting to work for the CIA. My backpack is now full of cheesesburgers and I am certain my sweatshirt will smell of McDonald's for the next 2 years.
Friday 11:15: I realize any bus stop past 9pm is really shady and not a fun place to be.
Friday 11:40: I leap onto the bus as soon as the doors open. Cheeseburgers still warm.
Saturday 4:45am: A bus attendant tells me my stop is 15 minutes away. I am slightly dissapointed I won't be able to see the end of "Death Race" because I know the third act will really pull everything together.
Saturday 5:00-5:09am: I see a giant sign for Yablanitsa. I see another. And the bus keeps moving. And keeps going....and going. Yablanitsa signs have been replaces by road signs indicating Sophia is 62 km away. I tell the bus driver that Yablanitsa is (was) my stop. He looks at me, then tells me no problem.
Saturday 5:10am. The bus stops at a gas station and I am told "Its Yablanitsa". I get off the bus, and instantly the cold air attacks every inch of skin on my body. I know Yablanitsa is to my left, so I do what any reasonable person does; I start walking.
Saturday 5:12am. Two minutes into my journey, it starts to rain. Life is funny to me.
Saturday 5:47am: Life is not so funny.
Saturday 6:09am: I am now waling in a storm drain because on-coming traffic scares me.
Satrday 6:18am: I slip on something and eat it on a hill. My hands are numb so falling down leaves me indifferent at this point.
Saturday 6:32am: I start hallucinating. I tell myself I am on the modern day Iditarod, but now 10 mcdonald's cheeseburgers have replaced the diphtheria antitoxin
Saturday 6:47am: I start to question wheather or not I will be arrested for hitch-hiking. Every car now makes me incredibley paranoid.
Saturday 6:57am: I seriously debate eating all the cheeseburgers. I settle for one.
Saturday 7:00am: The most glorious sight I could behold; off ramp for Yablanitsa. I once again fall down a hill but I land at the bottom of a sign that reads "Sofia 80 km". I suddenly think back to the start of my journey...I have walked 18 km. Even though the comforting sign of Yablanitsa is in sight, I fail to read the bottom, which says '5km'.
Saturday 7:01am: As I summon my stenght to go another 5 km, a car begins to slow down behind me, and I hear the worst sound in the world: A police siren.
Saturday 7:01 +10 sec: :What will a Bulgarian prison be like, I wonder.
Saturday 7:02am: I am asked where I am going and what I am doing, all in Bulgarian. Luckily I make out the key phrase of "I am visiting a female friend" or preatilka. The police officer asks me her name. I say "Jenna", and then without a moment to pause he says "Jenna Back?". I say "yes" the most emphatically in my life. He tells me to get in the car, he will take me to her house.
Saturday 7:10am: I am walked to the door step of my friend's apartment, and given a hardy handshake and smile. The officer wishes me a nice day. I made it.

Life is funny sometimes

Family Fun mInus the Family

Kavarna is home to my 14th favorite sports team, the Kaliakra Football Club, but by far my favorite division 2 Bulgarian soccer league team. Home games are spectacular, especially the game I went to with my Bulgarian tutor on saturday. Now, I have been to games in my 4 major sports, and nothing can compare. First, games are free if you show up early, parking is free and any liquid known to man can be brought in. The only real drawback to the game I went to was the weather; absolutely freezing cold, hurricane winds and pouring rain. I once went to a Seahawks home game in December and that seemed like Tampa in the summer compared to this. Luckily, Kalikra's faithful are treated to covered seats, but due to the harsh winds, only the back to rows were safe from the rain.
As both sides marched onto the field, the entire crowd erupted into a chant of "hiday!" which basically means "hurry up". And this really set the tone for future chants and taunts. I saw seemingly mild mannered older gentlemen transform into soccer hooligans in a manner of seconds. This nice man seated a few seats down from me, said hi in a very pleasant manner, but as soon as the first call went to other teams way, he was throwing down something about someone's mother. And on top of this, someone brought a megaphone and would sporadically yell random phrases, but we sounded like the old grizzled father on telemundo. If you've seen telemundo, you know what I'm talking about. And to top this off, when the line judge called Kaliakra off-sides, a man literally charged the fence to give me a piece of his mind before he had to be restrained by his buddies. First half was awesome, and I figured it would all be down hill for the next 45 minutes. I was both right and wrong about this prodiction.
Remember how I said it was freezing cold? Well, I assumed it was in the low fifties since earlier that day I went running in shorts and t-shirt. Well, it was much colder...much colder. At the 55 minute mark, with the rain still coming down in buckets, my tutor nudges my arm and says something that sounds like "snyak". I have no idea what this means, but he points up, and keeps saying it...and then I realize he is referring to the snow which has begun to fall. Freaking snow. My first thought is "Man, a soccer game is a horrible place to freeze to death" but then I start to notice how horrible it must be for everyone on the field. The poor ball boys are soon rescued by the team equipment manager who gives each one a team parka, which promptly hangs down to their ankles. One player on the other team is bravely wearing a short sleeve jersey, and snow has started to collect on this hair. When the ball is within 50 feet of him, he runs like the wind, just trying to stay warm. Pretty soon, the whole field in a white blanket, and the ball is barely indistinguishable. I can't feel my toes. The cigarette intake of the fans has risen from smoke every 5 minutes to every 30 seconds, but most people can only last 2 puffs, before their hands get too cold. My shoulders are now permanently hunched over. My tutor leans over to his friends and informs him I am from Orange County. This gets a huge laugh, and if you told me a year ago I would be freezing my butt off at a soccer match in north-eastern Bulgaria, I probably would of laughed too.