Yay Weekend! Time to . . . relax?

Good afternoon readers -this is your on site reporter checking in .

One week done - sweet. Weekend homework - not so sweet. Homework is:
Read -

• Good woman of Setzuan by Bertolt Brecht
• Death of a Salesman (I need to find the line that initates the "Point of Attack")
• Trifles (to understand Dramatic Structure)
• An essay by Elia Kazan on Street Car named Desire
• A different version of Good Woman of Setzuan - to understand the differences in translations
• little Shop - again - and then start collecting song books for other musicals written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken

And then I have a paper to type

So - no down time for me. Well, there's down time. I've just managed to fill it. To the movies with Ryan Simmons tonight, and to the theatre with FT's tomorrow.

In entertainment news
Last night I saw a very cool production of Comedy of Errors by Shakespeare. It's Shakespeares shortest play, so when we heard that this production was 3 hours long, we were very confused. However, it was done VERY well. The premise was this:

1940s movie set, in Europe during the war. They are filming a movie of Comedy of Errors, so the play took place on the movie set. they would shoot the scenes, and then have dialogue that paralleled the Comedy of Errors story line. The costumes/movement/comedy was fantastic. I didn't even notice that I was sitting for three hours, and for me to manage sitting for three hours of a Shakespeare play was amazing! Fantastic. If you get a chance, I would suggest you go see it.

Tomorrow is Mask of Zorro. I hear there's some amazing fight choreography in that, so I'll that wil be fun.

Last night I walked back from the theatre (on Navy Pier) to the apartment with a couple other people from the group. It was a fantastic night for walking, not too hot or humid. We took the path that followed the lake shore, and got to check out the skyline the whole way. It was beautiful. I didn't have my camera though, because I needed new recharagables. Apparently they don't have rechargable batteries here in Chicago - just regular ones. So, that's what I got, unfortunately. Sorry Earth. Also, their baggers here don't do paper at all. Only plastic. Again, Earth - tough luck.

There must be a game going on at the baseball stadium - I can see that they have the lights one. Can't quite read the score board - so no sports report today. Weather coming up.

Oh - on the way to the grocery store today, there was an absolute Law and Order moment. Laura and I are walking down the street, we've gone about a block and a half at this point, and suddenly all these police cars come whipping around the corner and tearing past us to this construction site and alley we just passed. So, of course being proper, polite, well behaved people, we got right in there to gawk at what was happening. One officer jumped out of his car (he was the passenger) and went tearing off on foot, they blocked off all the surrounding streets - the place lit up!

So we figure out where the action is and go around the block so that we can be there. I notice there's a taco bell, and stop in for a taco, so I can have something to munch on while we watch the magic happen. Pedestrians are being interviewed by under cover agents and uniformed officers alike, the cops are looking underneath the cars, in the flower pots, everywhere. And they have one person in custody.

So, the guys that were being interviewd by the undercover decide they ALSO want a taco, so I nab this opportunity to chat with them about what happened. Here's the story according to two taco bell craving peds:

Some random person accosted another random person with a gun, and then took off on foot while being persued.
Gets to the block where the taco bell is, ditches the gun and starts walking casually down the street. He'd just about made it, when the cable guy (yay cable guy) flagged down an officer and pointed him out. THey then took him into custody, he didn't own up to ever having a gun, and that's when the interviews and easter-egg gun hunt started happening.

it got a little uneventful after that - and my taco was ready (actually, beef and cheese stuff burrito- 89 cents, how can you beat that?)so off we went on our grocery store trip.

We decided we'd hit up target first, it's three floors, not including two floors of parking. So, get to the main floor, find the grocery section, pick up all of our stuff, and run ito a classmate. He says the best place to go for groceries is actually closer to our place, and that we should do our shopping there. So Laura and I put BACK our groceries, get the non-grocery items we needed (she's making a make-shift curtain/sound barrier out of a tension rod and a comforter) and headed off on foot, tension rods and comforter in tow, to the other grocery store. We get there, it's about a 4-5 block walk, and realize that the prices are actually more expensive there than at target, although this place has produce and target doesn't. Regardless, we load up our carts, pay, and then, now with 4-5 bags of grocery bags a peice, and her comforter and tension rods in two, walk back to our apartment, realizing that the grocery store isn't actually at all closer to our apt, and in fact, it's equally as far as target. So, next time we might just go to target. So it took us 2 hours, lots of walking. But, there's food in the fridge, and I can now make tacos! yay tacos! (I need to get some beer first though - probably from that liqour store I passed on the way home).

That's my day as of now. I'm going to start part of the reading homework, knock some of that out before Ryan meets me. then movies (I believe I have to take the subway to get there - gross) and home to SLEEP. it's getting blustery out, I'm thinking a bit of a storm is rolling through. I hear you're getting wet back home. Try to stay dry, and don't let the rain get you too down. (that was your weather report)

This is reporter Chandra Perry signing out. :)

Reporting Live - from THE LODGE - Chicago

It's a raining, dreary day here in Chicago, but attitudes are sunny here, despite the clouds.

Yesterday we had Dramaturgy for the first time. A dramaturg, for those that don't know (and I imagine that's a bunch of you, seeing as it's a new to theater, been around for only about 40 years or so), is the person that is in charge of researching EVERYTHING POSSIBLE about the play, author, time period, clothing, customs, culture, etc., choosing what is most important, and then using it to eduate the director, actors, and public about the play.

There was a lot of anxiety going into class yesterday, becuase Dramaturgy is apparenty the toughest class we'll take in our three years here. So we show up, we're all sitting in this music room, in the band chairs that force you to sit straight, so we're uncomfortable when we show up, we're uncomfortable when we sit down, we're just uncomfortable in general. (and the AC was just BLASTING, which made me mighty uncomfortable, seeing as I hate being cold.)

In front of us is a stack of booklets, which we assume are for us, and a bag full of mystery items, and a teacher who looks like she hasn't smiled anytime in the past decade. You can feel the anxiety climbing to record heights here in Chi-town.

Teacher (June is her name) is standing in front of the class, we are all settling into silence, and then she reaches into her bag and pulls out . . .

a mask. A mask of some demon with two horns reaching about 12 inches to the sky from it's head. And she puts the mask on. And she says - "this is what you've probably heard about this class - and it's all true". We weren't sure whether to laugh or not - and then she took of the mask and was just cracking up at her own joke - just laughing like crazy- and the fog that was the anxiety disappeared.

So, dramaturgy is going to be a LOT of work. We have two plays to be researching at the same time, one is a group project, and one is our own. We have the class three times a week, Monday, Tuesday, and then all day on Thursday. But I don't mind research and critical analysis. So, I think I'll be just fine.


Today we get done at 3:15, I think. Then Dori and I are heading down to the second floor where there's a little workout center. We're going to have a hot date with the treadmills. After that, it's grocery shopping. I've still got some leftovers from Monday's meal (which was difficult to make, on account of our stove being in operable, but that's fixed now, so the next meal should be a breeze!). I'm dying for some veggies, so I need to find out when the farmers market is here, and where exactly it's held. I also need a hole punch and an extra binder and things such as that.

And then it's off to the library, to do some research.

We're all sleeping MUCH better, having adjusted to the sound of the train. now I just need to adjust to the sound of people talking on their cell phones, and trucks backing up at 3 am, and car horns. It's getting there.

Still no solid plans for the weekend. But the group is starting to form a bit of a community, so hopefully by then we'll have each others phone numbers and the like and be able to just call each other up and say "hey, let's go do something".

We start at 9 today, beinging with a short gathering, and then off to dialects. Not sure how well I'm going to do my Cockney, but I think I can nail standard British. Then lunch, and then directing class, where we'll discuss readings, work on the monologue (which, contrary to what he told us on Monday, isn't due until next week), and the like, and that's my class schedule for today.

And so I'm off to whip up some breakfast and start the day. It's sure to be a productive one.

Chicago - day one

Well, it's the evening of day one. Whew! I made it through the first day, and it was jam packed. And we finished EARLY today.

We started at 8:30 with a gathering of all the first years, there are 13 of us. Then off to a short breakfast before heading to dialects class. We're working on the Standard British dialect first. We're covering 4 dialects in 6 classes. So, today I learned about preventing my mouth from moving laterally, and keeping the voice front of the teeth - if that makes sense to anyone :)

Then a break for lunch, and off to directing, where I felt like an idiot.

The class is set up in a discussion format, and today we were discussing the "central transaction" of a play, how to find one and how it influences the directoral process.

Except that we were discussing Chekhov. I HATE Chekhov. He writes comedies in which people try to kill themselves twice, fight over each others lovers and a lot of people die. How exactly is that funny???

So, I read the play - a while ago, but I read it. So to review before class I skimmed the play, got reacquainted with the characters, action etc.

Apparently I didn't read the play like these people read it. They were coming up with analysis that I could even grasp, and debating motives and such. I was lost.

So I said nothing. Very little. I did say some things, but then I didn't say them with confidence, and I felt like i was completely out of place. So I stopped talking.

Then with 5 minutes left in class, the instructor assigns us scenes to direct quickly and perform tomorrow.

I had 5 minutes with my director, and I have to perform a CHEKHOV monologue, tomorrow, for the class. Great. Lovely.

It's on my homework list tonight. Among a few other things.

I don't mind homework, I can deal with homework, and writing and reading, and all that. I can't deal with feeling completely out of place in a competitve program. I begin thinking "what the hell am I doing HERE?"

But, then I talked to my roomie Laura, who is awesome by the way, and she brought up a few good points. First, she feels the same way. She felt like she had read a completely different play.Second, she affirmed that I must indeed have SOMETHING to contribute, otherwise I wouldn't be here. And thirdly, that this is a learning experience, in which we are all supposed to learn from each other. So I should stop being worried about being wrong, take a minute to listen to what the folks are saying and learn from them as well as the instructor.

So, back to it tomorrow with a different mindset. I'll take the monologue and treat it as a reading, that will be worked on and polished, and it will not be about how I perform it tomorrow, but rather how it's worked.

It's just a big risk in front of people I don't know. Guess there's no better way to get to know them than to just put everything out there.

So, tomorrow I have due:

A 1-2 page paper,
A play (read)
three chapters of reading
a scene (dialects)
a monologue
a gathering of authentic sources regarding Little Shop of Horrors. Apparently the dramaturgy instructor doesn't like electronic sources.

It's 10 pm and I have the play to read and the monologue to practice, so I think I'm doing pretty well.

I didn't sleep well last night, the train kept me up and I was worried about Joe driving home. And it was cold in my apartment. Tonight we've turned off the air, and I've grabbed an extra blanket. Hopefully I'll get some sleep tonight.

Tried to cook some dinner and then learned that our stove/oven doesn't work. They were supposed to come fix it, but haven't yet. We ended up using the kitchen in the lounge, which has a nice view of the library, which I will be sure to photograph and share with you all.

I'm tired. But I'm glad to be here. I'm excited about learning from other teachers, pick up some things I can use, hone some skills. The nights are hard, I miss Joe and my apartment, but the days are jam packed! It's always a bit of an adjustment when you uproot yourself and place yourself somewhere completely different.

OOH ! one of the classrooms I'm in has the most BEAUTIFUL view of the lake. The school building I'm in is older, with ornate walls, marble with sculptures. And all the windows are arched. So, in this classroom, it faces the lake, and it has floor to ceiling arched windows with light just streaming in. When we opened the door to the classroom door, light poured into the hallway as if God had entered the room. So, classroom, wood floors, huge windows, lots of sunlight, and outside the windows is the lake, and in the center of the arched windows is the Buckingham Fountain, in full "bloom", and the sailboats were just hitting the lake. Gorgeous. I had to put on my sunglasses.

Unfortunately we actually had to do some LEARNING, which got in the way of my gazing out the window, but if I get the chance, I will definitely take a picture and send it your way.

Anyway - I'm sorry this wasn't lyrical and poetic, but I wanted to give you an update of what going on here. I'll tell you more about my classmates and such as I get to know them more. And I'll be sure to get pictures up :)

A Year? No - it can't have been

Yep - it's pretty darned close to a year since I started this whole adventure. An adventure packed year that has brought me, where else, back home. I would try to sum up that year in profound pondering, but instead, as usual, I'll just give you an update.

I'm done with my first year of teaching as of tomorrow. I've completed 9 months, and put them behind me, and in the process met new people and enjoyed new ideas and challenges. I can't say that it has changed me, and perhaps that's a good thing. Perhaps the lack of change this job has caused me is a sign of just how much I am meant to be there. Just how perfect this fit is.

I know that I have a lot to learn as a teacher, but the joy of teaching is learning every day. The joy of teaching comes not only from watching the light bulbs come on over students heads, but also your own. From both those moments of reflection where you are oh-so-excited about this moment of brilliance you had, and those moments when you truly feel you have failed those thirty faces looking back at you. It comes from the constant, minute to minute self-reflection that is required in this job, the cranking of the gears in your brain, as you try to discover whether you have met the needs of all the students, or just a few, if any at all.

It's a frustrating job, and I'm not going to lie to you, I'm tired. I'm burned out from hours of dedicating myself and my work, and pouring my ideas onto paper only to have them work great one hour and then fall flat another. I'm exhausted from the constant demand the students put on me, and the never ending desire to raise the bar even higher, to reach out to new levels, and impact more people. But the exhaustion I feel now isn't the kind I used to get at the end of a day in a cubicle. It's mental exhaustion with a kick back, I impacted someone. I can change the way I did this and it would be better, or I can say things differently next time. Because, although we never get a chance to do things exactly over again, although time moves on, dragging us along with it, we do get the chance to try anew, every hour, every day, which is a constant reminder that life goes on and each hour of every day is equally important. Sometimes I think teaching teaches me more than it teaches the students, and I'm not sure if that's good or not.

But I LOVE learning.

And I'm madly in love with life. Both the smooth days and the ones full of hurdles. Sometimes the latter more so than the former.

And there's my profound pondering that I promised you I wouldn't do. I guess I can't escape it.

Speaking of not escaping - I'll have these flashbacks, when the light hits my sunglasses a certain way, or somebody says something, and suddenly I'm sitting back on the balcony of the school in Spain, looking out at the courtyard below, and feeling so happy to be there. And although it's just a moment, it still leaves me happy to be where I am, despite the fact that I'm not off rambling through some far off country, I may be walking from the car to work, or out on a run, but those moments, those flashbacks, make me so happy to be where I am, and to have been where I"ve been. and to have taken everyone along with me :O)

Here's to a great summer vacation filled with more adventure (although probably cheaper ones, since I"m suriving on a first-year teachers salary). And to moments of reflection and self-discovery. Hope you check in once in a while. I'll work on that pondering thing. More story next time, less mindless wandering.

Update

Hey there folks! All those who used to check in must of stopped long ago, since I wasn't updating. But - I thought I'd post this just in case someone dropped by :)

After I got home I lived in an apartment with my boyfriend for a few weeks, did some work for an old company of mine, and attended two job interviews. The first one was in Detroit. Downtown Detroit. Yea - little white girl Chandi drove past all the burned out buildings and empty warehouses, parked in a gated lot, and walked into a security heavy building for a job interview. And got the job. And turned it down (for fairly obvious reasons).

I had applied for a job in Perry (yes - HA- Perry, how funny is that? I've heard that a few times, so let's collectively laugh and get it over with) - before I applied for the position in Detroit, but the Perry position didn't start interviewing for another week after I was offered the Detroit job. but I wanted it. I wanted it really badly. So, I turned down Detroit, hoping to all HELL that I would get called for this Perry position.

And I did. On the evening of some random Sunday the principal called me and invited me to an interview, I played it cool and said "I"D LOVE TO INTERVIEW FOR YOUR SCHOOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN DO YOU WANT ME THERE?!?!?!?!?!??!" a few days later I was buzzing off in my old car to the buzzy metropolis of Perry (a small farming community just outside Lansing). I interviewed with a whole committee of people; a student, a parent, an intern, two teachers and the Principal, and was sure that I had BLOWN the interview. I mean, BLOWN IT- into space, flying around in some separate stratosphere, circling an unknown planet, BLOWN IT.

So I cried on the way home. Becuase I had turned down the only job offer I was going to get, and would now have to sub for a living. Which sucks.

To ease my pain, I went back to the old company that I had worked for before Spain, and took up a temp position doing the same thing that I had started doing with the company 3 years prior. Yea, humbling, I know. But then they shipped me off to Ludington to help out there, which gave me a break, and a beach, and some new people to meet. While there, the most amazing thing happened!

I had been told that if they were interested in me, they'd call me in for a second interview, and have me come teach a lesson. And by the grace of whatever being saw my interview orbiting their planet - I got a call! I was in Ludington, and my boyfriend had the cell phone in Kalamazoo, so, in the middle of this training exercise in Ludington, Joey calls and says "You just got a phone call, call back this number" - so my heart starts racing, and my hands start to sweat, and everyone I'm training is wondering what the hell is wrong with me and should they call 911 - so I call back the Principal- hoping that I got a call back, and that'd I'd be putting together a lesson for them, and praying to all dieties listening that I wouldn't hear the three most dreaded words in interview history "I'm sorry, but. . ." - Steve, the Principal, picks up the phone and . . . the seconds tick by . . . my heart rate is climbing beyond healthy, into dangerous . . . and he - offers me the job???? He offers me the job!!! HE OFFERS ME THE JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I"m in the middle of a training exercise in an ISD in Ludington!!! So, I had to scream in my head.

Two weeks later I"m the drama and 9th grade "Language Arts on a Cart" instructor at Perry High School. I've been there a month, and things are getting better. It's hard coming in after the school year has started. And I'm struggling with not having a classroom, the lights in the Auditorium have flipped their lid, and we start rehearsals for the play this coming Monday. So much happens so fast that I feel like I'm dog-paddling in a whirlpool, trying to get to dry land, but just staying afloat. I'll get there eventually, and I won't drive home thinking about how I could have done things better, or how I could have handled a situation better. Someday I'll drive home and be happy with my performance - all in good time. Until then, I had the craziest, most successfull summer in my entire existance. And I landed the most perfect job in the world, and love the life I'm living. I'll try to keep you all posted as things go along. Thanks for keeping up with me! I'll talk to you all soon :)

The arrival home

Hey there all! I made it! Safe and sound, without much trouble. It was an adventure - it kind of went something like this -

After a night of carousing with a bunch of American business men, and some british people they picked up on the way, Josephine and I said our good byes as I stepped into a taxi, very hollywood, and I was whisked away to my hostal for my final evening.

Three hours later, at 4ish, my alarm went off and I drudgingly pulled my slightly drunk body out of bed, tossed it into a shower, and prepared for the treck (normally a short walk, but I have two backpacks, a toiletries bag, and two suitcases to carry) to the trainstaion. I get all of my stuff into the elevator, toss my key to the security guard at the hostal, and lug my, well, luggage with me to the train staion down the road, pump my money into a machine, and get my incredibly valuable ticket. I'm running a little behind, but still have 20 minutes until the train comes, so I"m doing okay. There is nothing on earth that could possibly make me miss this flight. I am so ready to go home and use a bathroom, without having to lock my bedroom or listen to other people do a group sing-a-long at 2 am.

The train comes as scheduled, and, with some help, I get me and my crap into the train car, and then hope that the train speeds up, because, with stops, it looks like we're going to be a little late arriving to the airport, and at a 6:00 arrival (it's the earliest I could get there, because that's when the airport opens) I'm cutting it close for an international flight.

Train arrives, I get off, the moving sidewalks aren't moving, so I haul my ass with my junk up the long ramp and across the sky walk, down an elevator and down to the opposite side of the road, where I follow the signs for British Air (yes, British Air) has their desk.

Now, at 6 am, slightly drunk, very tired, and incredibly over the idea of carrying my luggage around, I wasn't too happy to find that there's no signs in Barcelona Airport Terminal A to the British Air desk. So, I wander around a bit, trying to find someone who speaks English to point me the right way, figure out where I have to go, and on the way stop at the board to check the status of my flight. Hmmm . let's see, Iberia flights, Delta flights, oh yes, there it is, British Air . . . CANCELED!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE F**K??? As I turn my head angrily from the ominous board, flashing in angry red colors that awful word, I look down the hall and see the crowd of angry people, using tickets and carry-ons as pitch forks and torches, crying out angrily for an explanation. Perfect! I found the British Air desk.

Upon arrival at the mob I get handed a nice cordial letter explaning that the catering service (which also contains the luggage handlers, ticket takers, and candlestick makers in the union) is on strike. SO - I wait in line. And, when I'm next to be served, I get transfered to another line, where I am 5th to be served, and, when I'm 2nd to be served in that line, I get transfered to another line - the whole process taking about 3 hours. In the middle of the 4th hour, I get my tickets for Iberia to Frankfurt (which means I'm not going to London, so I'm not meeting my friend Alex to give her back her backpack, which means I have to ship that baby home from the US - splendid!) . This blessed ticket allows me to jump in yet another line, hand my luggage (which has followed me, with great effort, to each line) to the man behind the counter, and collect my boarding pass. I now have about 45 minutes until my flight. And I haven't gone thru security yet. Great.

SO - the race begins. I get in my 5th line to go thru security, pass the scanning, buzz on down to the breakfast counter to collect my complimentary crossiont and orange juice, down the orange juice like a shot, and head to my terminal, call Joe (which wakes him up at 3 am) to tell him about the change, and board the plane without much trouble. Leg one, success!

It's a two hour flight from Barcelona to Frankfurt (hey I made it to Germany after all!!), and I chat it up with the german next to me who looks at my itinerary. And he gives me more bad news . . . aparently there are two terminals in Germany - and I have to go from the end of one to the end of another, which is a journey of about a kilometer. And I have twenty minutes from the landing of one plane to the boarding of another. Which, I figure if I move really quickly Ican do. Except that in Germany you have to go thru security and customs all over again, which will definitely slow me down. Wonderful.

The plane lands and I BOOK IT! I'm practically running down the hall, up a couple escalators, jump the train that moves people from one terminal to another, get down to security, go thru the scanning, getting stopped because I was wearing a jacket, there's a disagreement between the two officers as to whether I need to take off my jacket before I walk thru the metal detector, to which I say "umm, sorry to interrupt, but that boarding announcement there, that's for my flight. Can we straighten this out a little quicker please" - they forget about the jacket, pass their wand over me, and point me to the large mass of people waiting to hand the lone customs person their passport and explain why they're making a connection in Germany. You've got to be kidding me. I wait for about 3 minutes before approaching the incredibly armed guard (took balls, let me tell you) to ask him if I could jump in front of the 100 people in front of me to get to my flight. And I do. Whew! Sign says gate C - I must be close! I'm now down to about 5 minutes to get to my flight. Fantastic. I make it to gate C, look for door 7, and find an arrow pointing me down a narrow hallway, down an escalator, and down yet another hallway before I get to the boarding gate. Upon arrival (completely out of breath and incredibly low on patience) I am told that my boarding pass is incorrect, and I need to talk to the lady behind me. Who is chatty cathy on the phone with a friend of hers in yet another language that I don't speak. I really have to work on that.
So I wait. And wait. I clear my throat, I hear them call final boarding, I wait. and FINALLY that damned woman shuts up, hangs up the phone and acknowledges my presence. She glances at my inadequate boarding pass, looks at her screen and tells me that my seat hasn't been paid for in full, to which I say "what would you like me to do about that at his moment, seeing as the bus to the plane is going to be leaving any minute" - she says "I just thought you should know" (right, because it was a HUGE concern of mine that I got bumped up to Business class for free by British Air for the Lufthansa flight - NOT my problem). I get my appropriate boarding pass, run thru the doors tossing my boarding pass at the very tired looking attendent, slip thru the closing doors of the bus and celebrate making it onto this flight. I told you, hell on earth could not keep me from catching this flight. PLUS - I'm business class!

The rest of the flight went quite smoothly. We were delayed in take off because of a thunderstorm, then had change our path to go over greenland instead of heading straight across the ocean, adding another 45 minutes onto the flight, but that's okay, because I have the choice of a variety of movies (15), cds (90), video games (10) and wines (endless supply) to choose from for my entertainment on my flight. When I get tired of flipping thru my selections, I can recline my seat to a flat bed, flip up my privacy screen and take a nap, all comfortable in my socks and eye cover. I was fed an appetizer, salad, main course, and dessert, then later a snack and another dessert, meanwhile the wine cart kept passing, always followed by a warm roll and some apple butter. I didn't really mind the extra hour at all :) I was able to chat it up with the business men around me, hear about their travels and such. Over all it was a delightful flight. Travel Lufthansa, it is a great airline!

We landed in DTW, and detroit has never looked so good! There was sun, and a breeze and I was back in the US. YAY!

And then I went to get my luggage. I got myself a cart, all ready to collect the miriad of bags that I had and head thru customs to meet Joey. And the bags came . . . and went. And none of them were mine. Not one. Not one of my three bags made it to Detroit. Apparently they all liked Germany so much they thought they'd stay. Going thru customs, the man looked at me and said "is that all the luggage you have miss?" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So, I smiled and said "That's all the luggage you folks gave me" - so he pointed me in the direction of the Lufthansa office to make my claim.

Poor Joe has been waiting for an hour :( But I made it thru the gate, found his smiling face, claimed my baggage and the rest is history! The great Lufthansa people dropped the bags off at my Moms Saturday nigh/early Sunday morning, so no worries there. And I'm very happy to be back in the States, having missed you all very much. Now, I just need to find a job - so any news of any teaching positions should be forwarded on to me :) Thanks again for all following my blog and keeping up with this great adventure. There will be more to come, that's for sure (especially dependent on where I end up teaching!), and you're all welcome to follow along with me on those too.

My photos are supposed ot be done soon, so I'll post an open invitation to all you bloggers out there to stop on by and check out my pictures, some Sangria and pan con tomato :) SO - I'll see you all soon!!

And the thunder rolls

Monday night I did a journal entry on how much I missed thunderstorms. They just don´t happen over here. I dont´have my journal with me, but it went something like this:

I miss thunderstorms. I love to hear the thunder in the distance and feel the temperature change. And then the wind picks up, and chimes everywhere start to ring wildly on peoples porches, like a gentle warning. Then the air takes on a whole new feeling, you can smell the rain coming, and the whole world seems electric. Then comes the first pat of the first big drop of rain, then more and more until an uproaring applause is released from the sky as thunder and lightning take the stage for their carefully coreographed song and dance. Every bird, insect and animal sits mezmorized by the show, silent, sitting and watching as nature stretches and unleashes her artistic talent reminding us how powerful and amazing she can be.

And we curse, and get angry, because the rain has canceled our golf or tennis game, or our shoes are wet, or the car is muddy, completely missing everything that is perfect about the show.

I´m laying here in my rented room, on my rented bed, resting my head on my rented pillow, listening to the metro run beneath the building, pretending that the rumble of the train is a thunderstorm blowing by in the distance, just passing through.

It doesn´t thunderstorm here. It rains occassionally, spitting a little here and there, only really downpouring once since I´ve arrived, and that was the day I finished the course. I miss watching the storms come in, seeing the leaves flip over, exposing their silver sides, watching the wall of water move down the street like an advancing army. Thunderstorms. One of the millions of things I miss about summer in Michigan.


Anyway- end of badly recreated journal entry.

Guess what rolled through last night? Yep. Just because I asked for it (okay, maybe not, but I can pretend). I was laying in the same rented room, again listening to the metro roll by, feeling the room vibrate, it would have been perfect if the lights had flickered. But then it just kept rumbling, and there was a smattering of pats on the tin roof outside my window and then "woosh", the rain just let loose, and mother nature voiced her opinion on the sunny day we´d just had. WOW! It was so exciting! my window faces an air duct, so I couldnt´see the lightning, but that thunder was so . . . just awesome! And I could smell the rain, and I just layed there in my room listening. A floor above someone was practicing Islamic chants, and across the duct someone else was playing harmonica, and then there was the person singing oldies, and all of it traveled up the air duct, meeting the sound of the thunder traveling down, and the most eclectic orchestra I´ve ever witnessed did a performance outside my window, just for me. I turned off the lights, layed in that bed (which costs me 23 € a night - not a bad ticket price) and listened to the show. It was AWESOME! Everything about being here, the cultures, the sounds, the smells, mixed with a few things about being home, it was like a requiem for my trip composed by the worlds best.

If anything on this trip, I´ve become a much more appreciative and positive person. There have been things that havent´gone as planned, but they´ve gone as they were meant to. Like teh whole flight home. I called BA once, didnt´get a ticket, and told myself I´d call twice more, and if I didn´t get it, then I wasn´t meant to go home. The very next phone call I got that ticket. I didn´t get the room I wanted in Barcelona one night and had to go to Sitges on my way to Tarragona instead, where I got to sit on the beach and recollect myself after a frustrating day. People have shown up that I never would have expected to meet, there´s always someone willing or wanting to do something to help, guide the way, or just smile back. There are a lot of things I ddin´t do the easy way, looking back, but I sure wouldnt´have had it any other way. Tomorrow, if it works out, I´ll head to Montserrat, otherwise I´ll collect my stuff and get ready for the long flight home, and then when I get home, I´ll have a cold beer and a burger, and sit on the couch with my boyfriend and my cat :) Maybe a thunderstorm will roll through, just to welcome me home ,)