Snaps From My Teacher Training Course

Some Snaps From Suceava

International Conference on British and American Studies

This is a picture of me speaking at the Messages, Sages, and Ages Conference at the University of Stephan Cel Mare. I was one of two keynote speakers for the conference. It was a wonderful experience although I felt a bit out of my element. Most of the participants were PhD professors in literary studies with topics such as "The Space-Time Paradigm in British Literature", and "The Duality of Reality and Imagination in British and American Post-Modernist Fiction." The title of my speech was, "Bumping My Head; Navigating Through Cross-Cutural Doorways." I am not sure if the content was Modernist, Post-Modernist, or Post-Post-Modernist. Whatever it was, those in attendance will now have strategies for keeping their balance while using a Japanese "squatty-potty". Don't let the serious look on my face fool you. The picture was snapped after the conclusion of my talk. I tried to pose like I was saying something profound. Sadly it looks more like I need to make a quick exit for that aforementioned squatty-potty.

Dem Bones Dem Bones Dem Dry Bones

October 14th is the feast day of Sfanta Parasceva, the Defender of Moldavia. Her bones and other holy relics are kept at Iasi's massive central cathedral. The faithful from across Romania and much of Eastern Europe converge on the city for a week of activities both religious and decidedly secular. Like rock fans seeking tickets for a sure to be sold-out show, lines of people camp out for days outside the cathedral for the chance to pray over the sacred bones of Parasceva. The less devout, however, skip the church, break out their latest batch of "must"( a wine-like spirit) and stumble through the streets attending concerts, cultural events, and craft fairs. The goods for sale are equally incongruous. At one stall selling handiwares, a row of crosses and religious icons shared a display case with a naked gnome giving the finger and a print of Minnie Mouse mooning a red-faced Goofey.

On the last day of the festivities, I left Iasi to attend a conference about 100 miles to the northwest. It was my first solo train journey and I was exceedingly pleased that I managed to board the right train and find my seat without a hitch. As I entered the compartment I was cheerfully greeted by a 77 year-old woman from the southern part of the country returning from her pilgrimmage. She immediately began chatting with me in rapid-fire Romanian. I tried to be good company, but after establishing that I was a teacher from America going to a conference, my linguistic skills began to fail me. This did not deter her. She kept right on going--highly animated--sometimes laughing at a joke she had made, and then proceding to regale me with more stories filled with wit and pathos. After a few moments the compartment door opened and a young university student entered and took her seat. The older woman asked our new travelling companion if she spoke English. After a moment's hesitation, she responded, "Uh...da." My elderly friend's eyes illuminated. She pointed to me and pronounced "din America!" After a few more moments the young woman turned to me and said, "She is happy because I can translate for her." The young soujouner did not appear overjoyed at the prospect as she tucked away the novel she had planned to read in silence and annonymity and sat back to assume her role as a conduit for cross-cultural communication. With that the old woman began to pull out small saint cards. These cards bore the pictures and vital statistics of various champions of Orthodoxy much like baseball cards with the batting percentages and earned run averages of major league Hall of Famers. "This card is of Saint Parasceva," said our translator. "She is especially good for saving you from poisons." The woman handed over a second card. "This is Jesus. I think you know him already." All in all I received six cards. I am not sure what the others will save me from, but if get poisoned any time soon I know to reach for Parasceva. Then the old woman tried to teach me the sign of the cross. To her horror I touched my left shoulder before my right--the Catholic way. "Nu, nu, nu...", she said throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation. "No. You have to do the right first. That makes Satan run away," said the student. I complied like a chastened school-boy. "Oh--da da da--buna!", the woman said, happy to see that her efforts were not in vain. She then began to explain through my translator that besides getting Satan to flee, the use of the sign of the cross also helps to get discounts when shopping. After much more theological education I saw that the train was pulling into Suceava--my stop. I asked if I could take a picture of my new friends before departing. The old woman covered her face and said "Batran--batran" (old old). Despite her protestations, I think you will all agree she has a lovely face. As I left, the young student reached for her novel and bid me farewell. I still don't have all the saints straight in my mind, but I am definately going to remember that shopping tip--Christmas is just around the corner.

I'm not dead.

I am remiss for not updating this blog for nearly a week. I am busy preparing for my first teacher training course which begins tomorrow. In addition, I have to prepare a keynote speech for a conference in the neighboring county of Suceava before going on to another conference in Bucharest at the end of the month. While in reality I try to maintain the face of a calm smiling Buddha statue, the picture above more closely resembles how I am feeling.

I promise to post something within a few days. If not, I promise to refund the price of all your subscriptions.

To my father, I would like to thank you for your thoughts on the election. I think Lincoln would be a good choice, however I doubt he would want to run again seeing how things turned out the last time. As for Palin, she might well go moose hunting in the congress. Thankfully most of our politicians rarely bother to show up for votes. The ones who do come will most likely be asleep, so they will die painlessly.

To Dr. Sherri Tapp. It was good to hear from you as well. I hope your mod. goes swimmingly. I always enjoyed coming to your class. Are you still hitting the gym? I am going to join a local fitness club once they are finished with rennovations. In the mean time, I am enjoying a diet of cream and butter soaked mashed-potatoes, fried meatballs, pork and beef cutlets, and 300-varieties of sausages. The only green thing I have seen on any plate here in Romania is the floral pattern on the porcelain.

If anyone is thinking of possible Christmas gifts, some nitro-glycerin and a defibrolator might come in handy soon!