Fall and Winter

(Well, so much for a monthly blog posting. But since we didn't have consistent internet service until January, we had to let certain projects go. We do hope to blog in a more timely manner this spring, but for now, this continues Tamara's thoughts and observations from the end of the last posting until January 2008. Happy reading. And please check out the new link on the right to photos of our time in Bulgaria.)

September ?

We are showing the apartment for the owners, and at the very first visit, Tristan pipes up and says “Tell him about the gang fight!” Dimitri wanders out onto the balcony where I’m showing the lovely views, and announces “This is a bad apartment,” to which I reply “For us it is, baby, because it’s too small.” After the visitor left, Dimitri asked,

“Why can’t we tell them about the cockroaches?”

* * *

September 18

We’ve been showing the apartment for almost two weeks now, and when we thought we had a taker, the owner stopped communicating with us, and the opportunity was lost. Frustrating.

The kids are having some ups and downs in school, yet I feel confident things will smooth out in a few weeks. Dimitri is having the easier time of the two….

* * *

October 11, 2007

We finally found a renter for the old apartment (the very same person we had tried so hard to place in the apartment the week before). On September 26, the owner showed up, the new renter was there, and we received the damage deposit without a problem. It was amicable enough, and we were quite relieved to have it behind us.

Peter and Georgann stayed with us another few days, and then they headed off to Nice and some other places in the south for a week. They subsequently returned for another stint in Paris, and we had several lovely days before they had to return to the States.

One day, we were all walking with Peter and Georgann, after a nice dinner out, near Place de la Concord. I was playing with Dimitri, carrying him on my back sideways with his belly to my back and swinging him around. We were walking this way, threading our way through lots of people who were out for the evening. I remember seeing this man walking towards us, watching us, and his face went from passive, even somber, to opening up like a flower with a beautiful smile and shining eyes that reflected our joy. That image stayed with me for days.

That same night, there was a big celebration all over Paris called La Nuit Blanche (the white night). Places all over the city had events and there was music all night in some places. We wandered between Place de la Concord and the Louvre Palace in the Tuileries Gardens. There were hundreds of huge candles in flower pots that were arranged in different patterns. One extravagant arrangement of about 100 pots was lighted and then raised about 50 feet above our heads by this enormous crane. We walked through the garden for over an hour before going home. My favorite fire pot arrangement was a globe shape that was about 15 feet high and had 60-70 pots in it. This arrangement was repeated in many locations, and was equally pleasing to me each time I saw it.

The new apartment is so much better than the old one. It is much quieter, bigger, and simply more appropriate for our family. Nothing like the space we are used to in our own home, but our standards have changed dramatically. The only frustrating thing about our move is that the Freebox, which is a unit that allows us to use internet, phone, and have a gazillion tv programs, got routed to the wrong phone line since the previous owner gave us the wrong number. So for some insane reason, we have to cancel our subscription, send the equipment back to the company, wait for it to be credited, then reapply for another Freebox. Not to mention that each time you request a new line, it costs 90 Euros, which at the current exchange rate is about … $126. We were about to tear out our hair over the issue, but Dimitri put it into perspective. He said, “Is it as bad as me dying?” Obviously not, and of course that made me think a bit. At the end of the day, what is important is that we are all safe and healthy and we are having a very unique experience here in France. And I can always go to an internet café . . .

Everything takes so much time here. At the old apartment, the owners ordered a new refrigerator the first day we were in the apartment. It was delivered in just a few days, but unfortunately was too big for the space (the owner had not bothered to measure the fridge, but had just eyeballed it). So they went ahead and left the new fridge, told us that we could use it and that we needed to go to the store and pick a smaller model. I dutifully went to the store (Darty) and picked out a model that was smaller but the same price. After much discussion and communicating with the owners, we went back and ordered a cheaper model, but it wasn’t available for two weeks. So we made do with the bigger fridge totally in our way in the kitchen for the two weeks. One day before delivery was to occur, the store called the owners (even though I had given them my number) and said there was a delivery problem and they would call us in a few days. They did not call, and when I went back to the store again to straighten it out, they reset the delivery for the following week. We got the new and correct sized fridge exactly one day before we moved out of the apartment. It took one month to get a fridge delivered!!!

On the positive side of things, I have committed to exploring Paris methodically with my niece, Emily. Emily is working part time for a retired movie star, Olivia de Haviland. She is also applying to veterinary schools and trying to get some more experience in the field of veterinary medicine. Even though she has been here for two years, she has not seen a lot of the cool things that are here. So we have decided to try to do something special with each other once weekly in order to experience more of the headliner sites in Paris. Last week, we went to the Museum of Natural History – the section on comparative anatomy. There were over 1000 skeletons of different animals from frogs to baleen whales as well as numerous samples of various animals in different stages of dissection in jars of preservative. Most of this exhibit is over 100 years old, and some of the specimens are 200 years old!

* * *

October 19, 2007

The weather has continued to be fabulous. My brother Brian and his wife Paula were here Saturday through Wednesday, and it was beautiful the whole time they were here. The day they arrived was the day of Tristan's performance at the opening ceremony of the annual Montmartre Grape Harvest Festival. Tristan dutifully got on stage with his class and mouthed the words in French to “Brave Margo,” a song by Georges Brassens that talks about a shepherdess who finds a stray kitten. She nurses the kitten at her breast, and when she pulls back her blouse to nurse the kitten, all the guys in the village were there, there, there, there (“la la la la” in French, with a clear double-entendre). The women of the village grow jealous and end up killing the cat, and the shepherdess, in her grief, takes a husband as a consolation. Georges Brassens is an extremely popular artist in Paris, and everybody loves this song. Not what you would find 8-year-olds singing in the States, however!!!

After the performance, there was a huge parade with people in costume from their respective regions showing off their harvest and regional products. There were also dancers doing folk dances, folk musicians playing the hurdy gurdy and accordions, brass bands, baton twirlers, etc. There were people walking along, pouring samples of wines from their regions, and one group of guys were carrying a huge wooden barrel full of freshly picked grapes that they were handing out (yum!). The parade went all the way to rue des Abesses, which is right next to where we live.

Sunday, we celebrated Emily's birthday with a crepe breakfast, and then walked up to Sacre Coeur, where there were a gazillion booths with wine, cheese, bread, pate, sausages, and other foods from all over France. Brian bought some foie gras du canard, I bought some other yummies, and we came home and had a feast.

Monday, I took Brian and Paula to Les Jardin des Plantes, and we went to the Museum of Natural History’s Comparative Anatomy section, a.k.a. the skeleton museum. It was super interesting to me and Brian, but rather boring for Paula. The next day, we went to the Chateau de Versailles, an enormous castle built in the late 1600’s around the time of Louis XIV and XV and Marie Antoinette. We spent most of the day in the extensive gardens. We had a wonderful feast picnic, and at the end I did a whirlwind tour of the palace. We were exhausted, but happy. Paula is such a trouper - she cannot ride escalators, so she does the stairs in all of the metros, which means that she walks more in Paris than the average tourist - whew! They took off for Nice on Wednesday, and will be back through for a couple of days in a week.

The boys are continuing to learn, and things are gradually getting easier for them. According to Tristan, he does not understand anything, but according to one of his friends, he has made a lot of progress (we had our first play date last Friday). I am sure he will learn in spite of himself as time goes on. Both the boys still get tired, but it is not as dramatic as when school first started. We are making a huge effort to have a consistent schedule with bed times and good nutrition, and that has helped.

We still do not have a phone line, so we cannot hook up to an internet/phone/television service. This is the never-ending saga with tons of boring details about red tape and miscommunication. It will simplify our lives dramatically when it is all set in place. I am particularly looking forward to having a phone that I can use for free international calls. Tristan is, of course, looking forward to a consistent internet service! I have pretty much stuck to my guns about not letting the kids have computer time during the week, and they only get two hours of computer time on weekends. The exception is that I have given them some computer rewards for some goals they have reached in French. Now both kids can count to 100 pretty flawlessly in French. We are working off and on with conjugations of French verbs, but that is going slower. I feel that if they are not always obsessing about the computers, they rediscover that they have other toys. Anyway, we'll see how things go. Their overall behavior is better if they have less computer time.

Dimitri is so compassionate for animals. We have to be careful about what we eat around him. He will eat no meat except porc, because “pigs are stupid.” He chose to ignore me when I pointed out that pigs are actually quite smart. He loves snails and shellfish, because they are cute, and gets quite upset when he finds that we are eating anything of the kind. At one point, we were eating clams, and he begged me to stop eating them. My salivary glands were working overtime with the deliciousness of the clams, and I continued to eat them. Dimitri had to leave the room. Another time, we were eating a type of roe in cream sauce on crackers, and when he discovered what we were eating, he said, “You have no respect for fish!”

Tristan, too, is quite compassionate towards the shellfish. I remember once when Tristan was three or four years old, we bought some live clams at a wharf, and he released them into the ocean. It a was beautiful moment. He was quite distressed once when he saw a fishing show where a swordfish had been caught and was being clubbed or gaff-hooked to death.

* * *

November 24, 2007

We had an absolutely fantastic Thanksgiving Day in Paris! As we were preparing to cook pies the day before, the oven went out, but fortunately, a neighbor a half-block away let me use her oven. We did the rest of the cooking on the stove top, improvising as we went. Emily rocked with a stunning gluten-free stove-top dressing and gluten-free gravy with duck giblets - both were absolutely delicious! We had traditional Smith-family cranberry relish and a sweet cranberry concoction (fresh) made by Emily's new friend, Rebecca. Since Turkeys cost 7-10 Euros per kilo (up to $8/ pound), and since we did not have an oven, we went with a pressure cooker and a chicken. Fifteen minutes, and voila, cooked and moist and delicious. I think I'm a convert to the pressure cooker!!! Sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, capers, olives, salad, green beans, and pumpkin pie. The works. Emily, Rebecca, and I had a blast cooking and singing together.

Emily met Rebecca not too long ago through a mutual friend of theirs. She has Boulder connections through Naropa and Frog Belly Farm, a place up on Nelson road which happens to be across from where Thea Tenenbaum lives. So Rebecca knows Thea, and she knows Toby - she took a singing workshop from him! She actually has a bunch of his music here in Paris, and is going to leave it with me to learn. There is also some folkdance connection through Thea's daughter. I told her about the time Toby and his then girlfriend taught me the Hallelujah rounds when I was 13 years old and spending a summer in Alaska with Pat Burge. Small world. I'll have to email Toby.

We had a wonderful sense of euphoria when we finally got connected to the world again with internet and phone last Friday. Unfortunately, our elation was short-lived. The new system worked for a few days, then started going on the blinks, and now it does not work at all. It costs about a dollar a minute to call customer service, and they are not patient at all, plus the cell phones keep cutting out. Well, just another test of our patience. Meanwhile, we are back to pirating the wireless connection of the cafe next door until we can get some help with our system.

We have adopted a little critter called an octodon degus. It is a little rodent like creature from Chile that is related to the chinchilla, guinea pig, and rabbit. It was found by this lady in a park - she is from Chile and recognized the creature. It was very cold, so the little guy was easy to catch. Anyway, they are predisposed to being diabetic, and I think this one already is diabetic, which may be why it was abandoned. He (we think we have seen male privates) has taken up residency in our bathtub, where he seems quite content. We have to banish him to a box when it is time for us to bathe - he does not like it at all. We are looking for an appropriate cage, but they have special needs, as they tend to gnaw through anything plastic.

* * *

November 28, 2007

Our internet fiasco continues... We got the modem last week, and everything worked fine for a few days. Then, gradually, it stopped working. After much trouble shooting and very expensive phone calls to customer "service," they informed us that they would send us a new modem. Well, they are actually out of stock at the moment, so it will be another three weeks before we get the new modem. We are so spoiled by exceptional customer service in the States, it is almost unbelievable that it it so hard to get connected. If we change to another company, it will take at least two weeks to get connected with them, so it is hard to decide what to do. Anyway, trying to keep a positive attitude, but I miss being able to call people (the service is phone, internet, and TV).

The other sad thing is that the degu died Sunday. It was clear that he was already sick when we got him, but I did not expect to lose him so quickly. We had researched his dietary needs thoroughly, and were providing everything that we could find that was recommended. I think that what ultimately happened was that he started nibbling on his bath sand due to "pica," a behavior that happens in some illnesses when the animal eats something it doesn't normally eat (usually dirt or sand). Anyway, he had an acute GI stasis and everything shut down. I had some medications with me and treated him like a rabbit, since their GI systems are similar, but to no avail. He had an abnormal breathing pattern from the beginning, and was off and on squinty-eyed, but I was hoping that with good management and nutrition I could turn him around. We are planning a burial in Bois de Boulogne tomorrow.

Other than that, we are enjoying being here. We have entertained here at the apartment several times with French guests, which is excellent for practicing our French. Also, I am trying to get out a bit each day to seek interactions, as it is easy to isolate myself in the apartment doing homemaker-type things.

Emily is in Italy this week, but when she gets back we'll continue our plans for exploring Paris together. Our next adventure is to go observe a master dressage trainer at the royal stables at Versailles next week. I have yet to completely explore my own neighborhood - there is so much to see!

* * *

On December 7^th, my cousin David’s son Wesley Bonham was murdered in Tampa, Florida. He was helping a drifter by the name of Joshua Wilkins by giving him a place to sleep for a couple of nights. Wes met Joshua at the fitness center where he sold memberships, and after talking with him for awhile, felt sorry for him and invited Joshua to crash at his place. Two days later, on Friday, Joshua killed Wesley in Wes’ apartment. He hid the murder weapons (two knives) in a couch, barred the door with the couch, covered Wes’ body with a quilt, and fled in Wes’ rental car. He was caught in Texas after a high speed chase for a traffic violation, and he was arrested for driving an unauthorized vehicle and resisting arrest. Monday, Joshua was charged with first degree murder.

Our world was rocked. Everything came to a standstill and yet everything went on in the world. Disbelief, flurries of phone calls, and many tears shed. Our phone service got disconnected after that first day, so we felt isolated and relied mostly on internet to do our communicating with family.

Christmas came, with grandparents and Auntie Rhonda. We enjoyed each other, and were so glad to be together. It was surreal, preparing for Christmas in spite of what had happened. But it was important to cling onto the tradition of the holiday, and to sincerely enjoy it with family members.

I went back to Oklahoma City to be with family for Wes’ memorial, held January 12th. It was an intense weekend, with many tears shed and also a lot of joy and laughter shared with friends and family.

Now I’m trying to get back to some sense of normalcy as the needs of my children and husband embrace me.

* * *

January 25, 2008

Dimitri will go with his class to a castle called Chateau de Neauphie-le-Vieux for five days and four nights in late March. It is 40km from Paris, and parents are not allowed to go, so it will be a big adventure for him. Regular classes will be held there, as well as all kinds of activities for the kids. They will have horseback riding lessons, experience taking care of farm animals, parties, picnics with bonfires, and who knows what else. Every parent I’ve talked to who has had children attend these events in the past says it is a fantastic experience for children. Some of these kids have never seen farm animals before, so that is exciting. But the main thing is that it is a big step in making kids grow up and establish a level of independence.

Dimitri had to go to the doctor to update his shots yesterday in order to be able to go on the castle trip. The mom of Dimitri’s best friend, Oscar, recommended a doctor who has an office near to where we live. It was a truly unique experience for me to walk into a French doctor’s office in Paris. Everything is handled so differently than in the States. I had called the day before, and the Doctor himself answered the phone. He told me to come fifteen minutes before my appointment time so that he could write me a script for the vaccines. When we arrived, there were five to six people in the waiting room, which was rather small and distinctly dingy. The reception desk consisted of a tiny corner with barely enough room for the secretary to sit to answer the phone. The office was not dirty, just worn out looking. It reminded me of some of the shabbier veterinary clinics I have known in the States. In between patients, the doctor, Dr. Pomey, looked over Dimitri’s shot record, and after a brief discussion with me, sent me next door to the Pharmacy with his secretary to order the vaccines. I paid for the vaccines, and then returned to the doctor’s office to wait our turn to have Dimitri seen. No questionnaires to fill out, no history taken. I looked over the vaccine products carefully, making sure they were what we wanted, and checking the expiration dates. When it was our turn, we were directed into Dr. Pomey’s office. It was about 10’x12’, with a fairly large desk, two chairs in front of the desk for patients, a bookshelf mashed full of books, and a couple of simple pictures on the walls. There was a very small extension to the office at the back, where there was an examination table and a tiny counter and cabinet. After a brief consultation, Dr. Pomey directed Dimitri to the exam table and had him take off his shirt. He clearly was used to children and was gentle and quick with the vaccinations. Since Dimitri was expecting it to hurt (and was pinching his ear and biting his tongue to distract himself), he ended up giggling during the vaccines. Dr. Pomey proceeded to charge us out right there at his desk. No credit cards, mind you. Only checks or cash. Total cost of vaccines and office visit was 64 Euros, 26 of which was the consultation fee of the doctor. A far cry from the sumptuous offices and high doctor fees in the States.

Speaking of health issues, we are on the lookout for lice and pinworms. Evidently, it is often a problem in the schools, and we’ve been warned that it will probably affect us sooner or later. Word has it the lice don’t like lavender essence, so our kids are going to smell like lavender all winter.

* * *

January 26, 2008

Last night we had the first sleepover with Dimitri’s friend Oscar here. All went well, and we discovered that Tristan really likes spending time with Oscar, because Oscar corrects his French, but does not laugh at him.

Getting Started

On July 21^st, 2007, after three days of little sleep during our frantic packing and moving of the house into storage and a long day of traveling on planes, we landed in Paris. The sky was grey, and it was quite chilly. We took a shuttle with our 400+ pounds (literally - we were at the 100 pound limit for each person) of luggage to an apartment that we had rented for our temporary digs. We were absolutely exhausted, and it took several days to recover from all the jet lag and sleep debt. When the fog had lifted from our brains and we could think straight, we started looking for an apartment to rent.

Renting an apartment in Paris is tedious and exhausting. After finding listings that are interesting, you have to connect with the people who are in charge of renting. Then you have to meet to look at the apartment. If you like it, you turn over your “dossier,” which must contain a gazillion documents to prove that you are able to afford the apartment, etc. Then they examine all of the dossiers and decide who they want. It’s like being interviewed for a high powered job. And everything that seems like an appropriate-sized apartment is quite expensive. At the end of 10 days, we had learned a lot but still did not have an apartment lined up, and it was time to go to Bulgaria to visit our close friend Maya and her family. Maya is Bulgarian but moved to the States in 2000. She returned this summer with her twin daughters, Kina and Dimana, and her son Isa while her husband Nehad stayed in Oklahoma City to work and take care of the house. My sister Rhonda had already joined up with us, so she was traveling with us at this point.

So Monday, July 30^th, we got up relatively early and took two Metro trains, one RER/”normal” train, and one airport shuttle train to reach the terminal at Charles de Gaulle. In the airport we heard French with a smattering of other languages. As soon as we got on the first plane to Munich, almost everybody was speaking German, and on the second leg to Sofia, there was a little bit of everything, most of which I did not understand. Fortunately, I was sitting next to an elderly French couple and could converse with them. I was amazed at how the hostesses would flawlessly flip from one language to another, and they seemed to know at least three or four.

Maya and her brother, Dobromir, met us at the airport in Sophia and helped us get the correct taxis to the hostel where we had reservations. The “wrong” taxis, by the way, would have cost us as much as 50 times as much as the normal taxis! Basically, if people see tourists from America or Europe or other wealthier countries, they jack up the prices, and most tourists don’t know to argue. We were extremely glad to have our local guides!

In Sophia, we stayed in a hostel called the Art Hostel for two nights waiting for another American friend. It was a truly amazing place. Mostly, it was a place for young travelers to pay per bed per night, but since we filled up a room with the five of us, we were allowed to have a key to the room so we could leave all of our stuff there while we explored. The place was also called We Usually Spend Our Time in the Garden, and aptly so, for the owner and many of the hostellers were usually behind the building in the garden area. We stayed up late each night, sharing music and stories with the other travelers. One morning, an accordion player from Switzerland improvised to a 5/8 rhythm which sounded distinctly Bulgarian, so Maya and Rhonda and I jumped up and started dancing around the garden. The atmosphere was great, the competition for bathrooms and showers high (I did not shower) and the mattresses were two-inch thick cotton batting - not comfortable.

After two days in Sofia, we took a train to Sliven, Maya’s hometown. It is nestled right next to the southern side of the Balkan Range, a beautiful mountain range. We stayed in an apartment owned by Maya’s father and used it as our base for traveling to other locations.

* * *

Wednesday, August 1^st, 2007

We're in Sliven, Bulgaria, at an internet cafe. It makes you appreciate how much we have at home when you realize how much other people do not have! The communist era put a pretty big stamp on this country. The people are very friendly, but you can tell there has been a lot of poverty. Some things are sooo cheap, yet other things are extremely expensive, like renting a car (which we are trying to do now). If you are obviously a tourist, often you will be aggressively charged for services. Again, we are extremely glad to have local friends who can translate for us!! Tomorrow we will head for the mountains to go to a folk music and dance festival. I am really looking forward to it!

Tuesday, August 7^th, 2007

We rented a couple of small cars, piled everybody in, and drove to the Rhodopes mountains a few days ago for a Bulgarian folk festival in Gela (near Shiroka Luka). It was located at the top of a mountain meadow and was surrounded by people camping for the event. The main attraction was a gaida competition (the gaida is an instrument that is sort of like the bagpipe). There were also people selling food and their wares (rugs, costumes, lace, and tons of other assorted things). At one stand, they were roasting about 40 chickens and a lamb on several spits over an open fire. It was a beautiful day, and at one point there were a couple hundred people dancing together to the music. The music was very interesting to me, and I loved seeing the competitors in their traditional costumes. That evening, it got rather stormy, so we did not attend the festival on the second day.

Over the next couple of days, we explored the area before heading back to the plains. We toured a deep cave with amazing stalagmites and stalactites and then another cave that was used as a prehistoric dwelling. Then we hiked around this amazing natural bridge area with several stone archways a couple of hundred feet high - beautiful, but nerve-wracking with the younger children!

Last night we were driving home and stopped for gas, and completely by surprise, met the son of Maya's first cousin. So their whole family came to the gas station to say hello and they ended up inviting us to their apartment. The family was very nice, but it was a challenge to be there because of their constant cigarette smoking (even the 17 year old was smoking!). We pulled out some food since we had not had anything to eat for dinner, and then they shared the cookies that Maya had bought as gifts for them at the gas station. An enormous storm came up during our visit with flash flooding everywhere and a pretty long power outage. We lit some lanterns and watched the storm for awhile (amazing lightening and thunder). We ended up crashing at their place (nothing like 10 surprise guests!) and leaving at 6 a.m. in order to make the deadline for returning the cars this morning.

Everybody is pretty wiped out today, so we'll regroup for the next adventure tomorrow. Isa's birthday is Thursday (he will be three). At some point we will go to the little village where Maya grew up (I think for Isa's birthday at least), and we still plan to go to the Black Sea (probably at the end of our stay here). The more we see, the more we want to see. It is very tantalizing.

I am finally learning a few words of Bulgarian. Today I learned how to count to 10, and I was having Isa teach me a few words. It was hilarious, because he would tell me a word in Bulgarian, and then as if a little language switch had been flipped, he would start babbling to me in Bulgarian. I would crack up and remind him to speak English. He was really thinking about the translations - it was so amazing to see him thinking about it and then successfully translating (with some re-translations by Kina!).

The day we drove to the mountains, we arrived pretty late in the evening, and we could not find a place to stay. We were pretty tired, after a full day of driving with 5 active kids! Maya was asking about hotels at a general grocery store in a little village called Stoikite, and by chance a guy was there who had a villa up the hill and offered to give us three rooms with six beds for 40 levs/night (that translates into about $35/night). We were so relieved and grateful! We ended up staying three nights, and one day, when we had left some beans to soak for soup, we came back to find our soup magically prepared by the grandmother in the family! Wonderfully spiced and very Bulgarian! Just a taste of Bulgarian hospitality . . .

* * *

After returning to our base at Maya’s father’s apartment in Sliven for a couple of days, we went to Maya's village (about 25 minutes west of Sliven, in the foothills), where we spent 2 days at her uncle Dimitir’s place. Despite our lack of ability in Bulgarian, we could at least claim one child, Dimitri, with a Slavic name, and we also met another Dimitir while there. In honor of Isa's birthday (and of us, I think), they slaughtered a lamb for the event. It was actually happening just as we arrived - a little taste of living close to the earth . . . I did not draw the kids' attention to it until after the lamb was no longer struggling, but then I asked if they wanted to watch the process of skinning the animal and all the rest of the things that have to happen when you butcher an animal. I was fascinated, of course, and Dimitri wanted to watch. Tristan was grossed out and did not want to see much of it. It was so interesting and very satisfying to me that they did not let anything go to waste. Meat, brain, heart, kidneys, intestines - all would be used. The skin would be sold later to the gypsies, who cure it and sell it to someone else. They baked the entire lamb in a stone oven. First they built a fire, and when it was quite hot, they pushed the coals to the side, slid the lamb in on a big tray, and then sealed the moon-shaped opening with a stone door and clay. They left it to slowly cook for about 5 hours. We had quite the feast! And the rakia (a very strong home-made grape liquor) flowed. I did not drink much, but it does not take much to feel it . . . Probably having to get the kids to bed was my saving grace! One of the most delightful things about their house was that there are grape vines covering the outside garden and patio area where all of the eating took place. Enormous clusters of green and purple grapes were hanging from the arbor. We would pick several huge bunches at a time and pig out. They also had really good peaches and plums and everything was ripe or close to being ripe! They also had sheep and goats that went out to pasture every day and came home in the evenings, and some pigs and dogs and a cat. We all would have been happy to stay longer, but we needed to come back to get ready to go to the Black Sea!

We ended up staying in Sliven for an extra day so that we could ride the lift up into the mountains with Maya and the kids. It was a 20 minute ride up the mountain, with dizzying drops and spectacular views. At the top, we walked around for awhile, Tristan did some lizard hunting (unsuccessful, according to him), and we found some delicious yellow and purple wild plums.

On Sunday, August 12 we were to meet Maya and her kids at the bus station to catch a bus to the Black Sea. We arrived with all of our luggage about 5 minutes before the bus was supposed to leave, but Maya was not there. She arrived the minute the bus was supposed to leave and managed to secure seats for all of us (11 people, including Maya’s mother, who decided to come at the last minute), and get the kids on for free! The bus was completely full, so we felt quite lucky indeed (albeit a bit stressed!). We rode the bus as far as Sozopol, where we spent the next several days. The weather was warm and the water was lovely (though we had to dodge a few jellyfish!). Tourists abounded, flesh of all different colors bared to the sizzling sun on beaches with tiers of umbrellas. Some topless women drew our attention, but the novelty wore off (except for the ravishing young woman who was perfectly tanned everywhere except her lovely breasts, which were burned beat red!). Sozopol was pretty touristy, but fun anyway. The old part of the village was very interesting with ancient buildings and narrow winding streets. I took a walk by myself one day out to the point of the old village. It was quite hot, so I climbed down the rocks and took a nice dip, then went back through the village again, stopping to look at the wares set out by wizened old ladies, usually selling lace work and homemade preserves.

On August 15^th, Rhonda and Tom left early in the morning for Turkey. Tim, Tristan, Dimitri, and I said our goodbyes to Maya and her mom and kids and jumped on a bus headed to Sofia. We had a pretty uneventful but tiring 7.5 hour journey. After disembarking, we lugged all of our stuff to the taxi stop and got into line. At that point we had no locals to help us and were at a distinct disadvantage with the language barrier. Tim speaks a few words of Bulgarian, but not enough to really converse. Anyway, we showed the address of the hotel to several taxi drivers who waved us away and took other passengers. Finally, this lady who seemed to be directing the flow of passengers into the taxis came to us and spoke a little English. She talked to a taxi driver and he apparently agreed to take us. Tim wanted to make sure that we would be charged the correct rate, so he tried to ask the guy. After a few moments of back and forth misunderstanding, the driver got angry, yanked our luggage out of the vehicle, and took another passenger. In a fit of frustration, Tim yelled at him in English (something about how he was treating guests from another country) and flipped him the bird as he drove off. I was certain that we had completely ruined any chance of a ride, and there was a flurry of talk from the lady in charge to the other taxi drivers, and then she managed to get another driver to take us. As it turned out, it was a very short ride, so the drivers did not want to bother with a small fare. We tipped the driver liberally - we were so grateful to be at our hotel!

After dumping our luggage at the hotel, we walked around the city for awhile, stretching our legs and catching a few last sights. We walked to the amazing Aleksandûr Nevski Cathedral, which was quite spectacular lit up at night. The kids were exhausted and earned piggyback rides for the last hour of our walk. We settled down for our last night in the relatively comfort of the Hotel Iskûr, happy to have a toilet that worked and plenty of toilet paper.

The next morning we made a mad dash to a local store that sold folk costumes and rugs. We pondered for awhile, and finally bought a couple of beautiful Bulgarian rugs, one antique and one new. Our precious new purchases under our arms, we dashed back to the hotel just in time to catch a taxi to the airport.

The transition from Bulgaria to France via Germany was easier in ways than our trip in the opposite direction two weeks previously. We had a great time in Bulgaria, but it was a relief to be in a country where I understand the language! It was like being in a total fog not understanding anything in Bulgaria for two weeks and then having the fog lift as we got closer and closer to France . . .

* * *

Saturday, August 25^th, 2007

Now, after a rather stressful week, we have finally found and settled on an apartment. It is owned by an English man and his Pakastani wife - lovely people. The apartment was a bachelor's pad for him before they got married. It is tiny (maybe 550 sq. ft.), on the 5^th floor with no elevator, but with a big balcony, lots of light, and partial views of the Eiffel Tower and Sacre Coeur. The floor slopes dramatically, so it feels like you’re a bit drunk when moving about . . . Tim has labeled it our “Bateau Ivre” after the famous Rimbaud poem. An apartment with “character,” let us say. We will have to spend some time cleaning and organizing the things they are leaving in the apartment - we'll do that today and tomorrow, and then move our stuff in tomorrow. I can't wait until we're settled in. Rhonda is here still, so she'll help us to decorate and to make it feel like our space before she has to leave on the 31st.

It has been rainy and drizzly here a lot so far - I'm hoping the sun comes out after we are settled!

Next week we will have to get on the ball about getting the kids scheduled for going to school. Hopefully it won't be too difficult getting them enrolled. The school where we think that Tristan will go is just half a block away. We have not figured out where Dimitri will go yet . . .

* * *

We were given the keys to the apartment on August 25^th, after making a deposit of $3200 (2300 Euros). Rhonda and I came over and started cleaning. We soon discovered how grimy things really were. Each shelf in the kitchen had a distinct layer of grey grime that took 5-6 wipings with various products before coming clean. There were a few dead cockroaches, but I did not think much about it since the owner mentioned that the building had been sprayed (I assumed recently). But soon we discovered that there were indeed some very healthy ones scampering about! When inquiring about the issue to the neighbor on the same floor, she seemed to think it was quite normal and informed us that we simply had to set out traps every two weeks or so to keep things under control.

The first night in the apartment, I was very aware of the noise on the street and was uncomfortable on the pull-out couch. Surely I would get used to the noise, and I knew I could make the bed more comfortable by putting the mattress on the floor and putting some camping pads under it.

The second night (Monday), just as I was getting into a deep sleep, I heard a tremendous commotion outside. Lots of voices yelling. The volume kept going up and then I heard a gunshot. There was more yelling and then two more shots rang into the night. Tim had jumped up and was on the balcony watching. He saw about 50 men right outside the Pigalle metro preparing to battle - breaking bottles for weapons and posturing at each other. Both Tim and Rhonda saw some guys attacking a car with crowbars. Tim thought he saw a couple of policemen appear, and by the time I got up to look, most of the people had run off, but there were still a few men jumping around at the intersection. I heard someone yell, “cours, cours” (run, run) and they all ran west along rue de Clichy. Someone had been wounded and lay in the intersection. Soon a knot of people gathered around him. In about 15 minutes, there were 20-30 policemen and an ambulance at the scene. Eventually, the wounded man was helped up and into the ambulance, but the ambulance did not leave. Evidently, they were using him as bait. Sure enough, a couple of guys came back to try to see into the ambulance (we assume to see if their buddy was OK). Then they started sauntering off across the street. At some unseen signal, about 10 cops ran across the street and jumped them and took them off in hand cuffs. Finally everything settled down. The next day, we found out that it was definitely a gang fight. There had been a fight the day before, and since two people had been injured, this was the reprisal fight. Thirty people were arrested in relation to the fight and three people injured (not seriously). From everybody we’ve talked to, this kind of event is extremely rare.

Tuesday, Tim and the kids were going down the stairs and heard a domestic dispute with a lot of scuffling and yelling on the third floor. That night, after I had been asleep for awhile, I was awakened by a horrific screaming. It was almost inhuman. I leaped up to find the apartment empty. After I oriented myself to being upright, I found Tim and Rhonda listening on the landing. By that time, the screaming had subsided and we heard a woman sobbing. A neighbor was calming her down and calling her mother or a friend for her. We heard enough to figure out that her boyfriend (or husband) had left her. We think it all was happening on the same floor as the domestic dispute, so we were thinking “good riddance” about the man….

The rest of the week was busy with preparing the enrollment documentation and visiting the Mayor’s office and the schools themselves. We also took some time to look at a couple other apartments, and we agreed to lease a different apartment starting September 15^th. We had realized that the small size of the apartment, the poor insulation, and the cockroach issues were all of concern. The events of the previous week probably influenced our decision somewhat, but there were other things too. The apartment we will move to is at least twice as big, better furnished, in a little quieter location, and even has a piano. It is more expensive, and yet it seems so important to be comfortable this year.

In spite of the desire to move, we already have a sense that this apartment is home, and there is a feeling of grief over leaving it. However, when a cockroach marched across Tristan’s breakfast plate, and when another dropped out of my travel dictionary, the need to be somewhere else was affirmed.

* * *

September 4^th, 2007

Yesterday was the first day of school for the boys. Dimitri was enrolled in a kindergarten that is a 20 minute walk away (on rue de Goutte d’Or), and Tristan started in an elementary school half a block away. Dimitri was supposed to go to a school close by (on rue d’Orsel), but it was full, and the director of that school, Monsieur Cure, was decidedly unpleasant when we inquired about being on a waiting list. So I made the 40-minute round trip walk four times yesterday to rue de Goutte d’Or. Both the teacher (Audrey Martin) and the director (Madame Novarro) of the school at rue de Goutte d’Or were very pleasant and kind. Today, however, Monsieur Cure called out of the blue to tell us that a place had opened up after all at rue d’Orsel. All we needed was a “certificate de radiation” from the old school. I walked over to rue de Goutte d’Or one last time and tearfully told the director the situation. I had already grown quite fond of her and Dimitri’s teacher, and was exhausted from the whole process. When I told her that the director at rue d’Orsel was not very patient, and was rather “méchant,” she burst out laughing and then reminded me that Dimitri would be with the teacher, not Monsieur Cure. I suspect that Monsieur Cure has a bit of a reputation for being short with people. Anyway, I took the certificate de radiation over to him, and he, much to his credit, was congenial enough, and promptly took us up to Dimitri’s new classroom. Michelle is his new teacher, and she seems quite nice.

It will be difficult for the kids for awhile, to be sure, but after two days, Dimitri is already repeating French words and short phrases to himself. Tristan is resisting more, but I think after a couple of weeks, they will both feel much more comfortable, and will be able to start communicating bit by bit with their classmates.