Where Is He? (Formerly Pierre In)

Reflections from the Road

2008-03-02T07:13:00.000-08:00

It has now been well over a month since my journey began, and I have decided to use this post as a forum for my thoughts from the road. Thus far the entire experience has been an eye opening and contemplative event. I have met people from all over the world, seen geographical regions of certain continents where I could have never pictured being, and even learned a little about myself in the process. However, there are also certain components of traveling that I have grown to despise. Recently Splat and I were traveling overnight on a train from Brasov, Romania to Budapest, Hungary. In an attempt to be economical, we opted for a chair on the train rather than a sleeping car. Unfortunately during the middle of the night, someone grabbed Splat's bag and stole all her jewelery as well as all of our pictures from the whole trip. Although, they are just material objects and our well-being was not affected, it is difficult to know that their are people out there with the capacity to do such horrible things. Hopefully, he is reading this blog right now realizing what an asshole he is (yeah thats right I am talking to you!!!). Another aspect of traveling that seems to be catching up with me is the fact that I am constantly on the go. Sleep, which in the past has been one of my favorite activities (see CA summer at camp, year 2000), has been few and far between.

My grandmother would refer to the entire last paragraph as kvetching, and that is not my desire at all, so I believe I will now share a more positive observation. For instance, I have realized that my traveling partner has a way of adapting our lives into some sort of sadistic reality TV show. The plot goes a little like this: Splat tells me that we need to ask for directions (replace with - menus, the bill, hotel costs, food, the list goes on and on), with my most confident strut, I attempt to fulfill these wishes. The results are 9 times out of 10 not positive. I try to slow my English down (I would originally raise the volume of my voice, but I quickly discovered that people generally loathe this strategy), but no matter what I say, the person looks at me as if I have two heads. No matter how good looking these two heads may be, it rarely gets me the result I need. When I return to my traveling companion, she is normally laughing hysterically at my failure, at which point she approaches the person and figures out what we need to know with relative ease. I have begun to suspect she is fluent in a wide host of languages including but not limited to: Hungarian, Romanian, Greek, Arabic, Carney, Latin, and Swahili.

Right now we are in Budapest (on the Pest side) Hungary, and despite the weather and first day fiasco, we are really enjoying this city. It reminds of Melbourne in many ways and makes me miss Australia. I know I had much more to say, but I cannot seem to remember it all, so I will leave you for now with the aformentioned anecdotes. Hope all is well with all.

A Beautiful Day In Bulgaria

2008-02-26T08:29:00.000-08:00

Ahhhh ... Bulgaria. What a wonderful place. Splat and I arrived in Sofia, the capital, after a long night train from Istanbul. We stepped outside, took one look at the city, and decided to push on to a smaller town called Veliko Tarnovo. It was at this juncture in the trip that I experienced my first major culture shock. In Bulgaria, people shake their head side to side to indicate yes and up and down to signal no. Of course I am use to seeing the head go side to side and hearing the word "no," but this was not the case. It has been minorly confusing.

We have been doing the usual sight seeing, and a few days ago we saw a huge fortress that over looks the entire city. I really had to use the restroom, and my Bulgarian is rather shaky so I was not sure exactly which direction to turn. While I was snooping around I noticed a rather cute dog chained to a dog house in the middle of this fortress. The dog was tiny and didn't seem to pose any initial threat. I tried to tip-toe my way around it, and the bastard sprung at me and bit my leg! In retrospect, I guess I could have drop kicked the dog, but I am not a huge fan of animal abuse, so I took it like a man. Thank god that I had to get a tetanus shot before going to Africa.

In the meantime, Splat and I have decided to try out this website called couchsurfing.com, which places travelers with people who have open couches in a specific area. So far no one has worn our skin as a suit, so that is a huge positive. In fact, we have met some really friendly and interesting people. The travels continue as we head to Romania tomorrow, I will keep you posted. As they say in Bulgaria ... Daaaaa!

One For The Road

2008-02-24T01:52:00.000-08:00

As Sarah and I were walking to the train station to board our train to Bulgaria, I was asked a question by a waiter which I had never been asked before. Let me preface this story by mentioning that it is not out of the ordinary for any of the people working in a restaurant to come outside and talk to passer byers. Normally the conversations range from local soccer teams to American politics. However, this waiter completely caught me off guard. After looking at Splat, he asked in his most curious voice, "How many camels did you have to give her family in order to obtain her?" My first reaction was a simple, "WHAT!" He then repeated the question slowly, "How many camels did it cost you for her?" The only response I could think of was telling the man, "You would not believe how many camels I had to part with ... and elephants too!" He seemed rather impressed by this answer and let us continue on our way.

Later that night, on the train, we were approached by the Bulgarian border patrol. They get on the trains that are traveling at night and check everyone's passport to make sure there are no stowaways. Of course, we had the only room on the train that didn't have a working light. This caused the security guys to come into our room to examine our passports. The first guy shines his light on Splat's passport and then on her face. He then says in English (with a heavy Bulgarian accent), "I believe this car is heaven and you are an angel!" After that, I don't even think it mattered that I was in the room. I could have been smuggling nuclear warheads, but it wouldn't have been a problem because the security guard liked my girlfriend.

I just wanted to get a few of these stories off my chest, before new and exciting ones come along. Hope everyone is doing well. Drop a message if you get a chance.

Turkish Delight ... Don't Mind If I Do

2008-02-22T06:07:00.000-08:00

We arrived in İstanbul two days ago, and after three wonderful days here I am sorry that I have to say goodbye. The city, both old and new, is absolutely beautiful. The people have been extremely helpful and friendly (but not too friendly). We spent the first day mellowing out, although we dıd manage to go to the Giant Bazaar, a huge market where the prices start out astronomically high but always find a way to drop within reason (mainly after you have already decided you do not want the item).

We stayed right in the heart of old Istanbul, which is called Sultanahmet. All around us were beautiful mosques and huge palaces. I had the chance to see two or three extremely large mosques as well as the Topkapi Palace (the home of the Sultans of Swing). Imagine buildings that take up numerous city blocks, and seem to rise up into the heavens (the nondenominational heavens) and you have yourselves the mosques. We also took a tram into the newer more westernized part of Istanbul. There were shops everywhere selling everything from Nike gear to traditional Turkish fezzes. Perhaps the whole highlight of this new Istanbul excursion was the catfight I witnessed right in the middle of the street. Of course tepeeman does not condone fighting nor does he wish to see it happen, but these two twenty somethings had each other by the scalps and were yelling what I only believe could be the worst Turkish expletives at each other. A huge crowd gathered and it was a lot like the street fight in Rocky VI when Tommy Gunn thinks he can beat Rocky in a street fight. Anywho, it was exciting.

Today I spent around an hour in a Turkısh bath. It was quite an experience. I was handed a towel and told to follow this man that was speaking his slowısh Turkish (I didn't have the heart to tell him that no matter how slowly he spoke, I was never going to be able to understand Turkish). He takes me into this large sauna, and right away my glasses fog up. So now I can't see what is going on and the only directions I am receiving are being given to me in Turkish. Anyway, the guy leaves and I am now left with a bar of soap and a plastic bucket. I am trying to look at what the other guys in the room are doing, but my glasses are so fogged that I really have to squint to see anything. I think this really freaked out a lot of the older Turkish men who might have begun questioning my intentions for coming into the bath. I tried my best to make use of the soap and water, but I am still a little skeptical of my bathing ability. Hopefully my trip to the bathhouse won't end up as a segment on Turkey's Funniest Home Videos.

Next stop Bulgaria. Really looking forward to pushing on through Eastern Europe. I hope to post soon. Much love.

My Big Fat Greek Experience

2008-02-17T03:59:00.001-08:00

Splat and I have not had much luck since arriving in Greece. While the city of Athens was beautiful and the island of Santorini has been wonderful, I am starting to doubt our chances of ever leaving here. We arrived in Athens on the 11th of February, and had planned on spending only a day or two exploring the sights. As it turned out, there was a transportation strike scheduled for the 13th. This meant that no trains, buses, or ferries, would be running on that day. Since we had planned on leaving Athens on the 13th to head to the islands, we were literally stuck. However, we realized that a few more days in Athens would allow us to map out the remainder of our journey and relax and unwind from the Africa trip. So on the 14th, we boarded an overnight ferry from Athens to the Greek island of Santorini. The ferry put us on the island at 4:30 in the morning on the 15th. We spent that day sleeping and enjoying the nice weather we had expected from an island getaway. As luck would have it, the 16th and 17th were not so nice. In fact, it is currently snowing in Athens and on the island (which it has historical done only twice in the minds of many of Santorini's residents). This of course may prolong our leaving the island since the ferries do not operate during bad weather. As of two o'clock this afternoon (the 17th) it is still undecided whether or not we will be leaving today. I guess this is all part of the experience of traveling on the other side of the world.

I have had plenty of time to reflect on the culture and the people of Greece, and although it may be a little premature, I am not thrilled with the hospitality or general attitudes of many of the Greek people we have encountered. I am not sure whether it is their attitudes towards Americans (a general give away when decked out in North Face attire), or whether passivity and politeness are traits that are frowned upon by a majority of European countries. Also, everyone (this is not an exaggeration) in Greece is a smoker. I believe it is customary for every child to receive a pack of cigarettes on their 2nd birthday. Right now I am sitting in an internet cafe and am forced to breathe the disgusting smoke infested air. This is not to say that I have not been forced to breathe the smoke infested air in every restaurant we have eaten in, the ferry we traveled to the island on, the bookstores, clothing stores, travel agencies, and generally every other public place we have walked into.

I am also in the process of checking into whether the words "excuse me," exist in Greek culture. Once I find out, I will be sure to let you all know. On a positive note, we have met a few nice people. Yesterday, Splat and I attempted to walk about 18 km to the town of Oia (ee-ah). This is a town in Santorini that offers the best view of the island. About an hour into our walk the sky darkened and the rain began to fall. We were forced to turn around and head back towards the place we were staying. It was a far walk, and my numerous attempts to hitch a ride had been unsuccessful. Just when I was about to give up, a nice lady and her mother picked us up off the side of the road. They were more than willing to drop us off in the middle of the town where we were staying. It felt good to know that there were some hospitable people here on the island.

I hope to figure out soon where and when I will be heading to my next destination. As soon as I figure it out I will be sure to let you all know. Hope all is well. Take care.

The Purpose of a Blog

2008-02-11T01:46:00.001-08:00

Looking back on the past two weeks, I have come to understand the purpose of keeping a blog. In the techno-savvy world in which we live, a blog is a great way to keep family, friends, and the occasional internet predator, informed of my whereabouts and adventures. With that said, I apologize for the delay in my blogging activity.

As of this morning, I have begun the European leg of my trip. Instead of paying for food in lion's teeth and mosquito repellent, I now must buy food in the absurdly expensive euro. Despite such cultural setbacks, I am finding Greece quite enjoyable.

I will now attempt to summarize the past two weeks in Africa...

When I last wrote, I was in a rather nice town in the center of Namibia. The town, Swapkamound, is on the outskirts of the Namib desert. Splat and I were able to ride quads/4 wheelers/ATVs through the sand dunes of the desert. It was an awesome experience, and one that I would definitely do again.

Once we left the Namib desert we headed north to Etosha national park. It is the Africa's largest national park at almost 24,000 square km. It was this trip through Etosha that helped me compose "My top 10 reasons for Lasik eye surgery." These are as follows:

10. I could not see the giraffe
9. I could not see the oryx
8. I could not see the aardwolf
7. I could not see the kudu
6. I could not see the zebra
5. I could not see the blue wildebeest
4. I could not see the damara dik-dik
3. I could not see the warthogs
2. I could not see the European bee-eater
1. I could not see the lion

Although the prescription of my eyeglasses may help those people with good eyesight to see the moon from earth, I have had a hard time spotting some of the more mystical pieces of Africa.

After the national park, we crossed the border into Botswana. Our first night in Botswana was spent at a campground where local bushmen danced traditional dances for us. I was so inspired by the singing and dancing that I joined in. I will try to paint a picture of this experience in words, but I am sure I will not be able to do it justice. It is me and three men (who are wearing nothing but fig leafs over their crotches) dancing around a small fire. They have these shells wrapped around their legs which make shaker noises each time their feet hit the ground. The whole time I am trying to keep pace with them, and I am guessing that the guy behind me felt bad for me because no matter how hard I stomped my legs they were not making any noise, so to compensate he hands me a huge ostrich feather. All of a sudden this 60 year old bushwomen hops into our circle dance. Either she was so overwhelmed by the music or the fact that a white guy like me has such rhythm, she begins to shake uncontrollably. The three guys start taking the hot ambers and the ash from the fire and start rubbing it on her. I have no idea what is going on at this point, and believed that I was taking part in exorcism, so I start to fan the woman as hard as I can with the ostrich feather. By the time the dance was over, the lady was covered in soot and I had soiled myself. It was an awesome experience.

After Botswana we headed to Zimbabwe. Sarah and I threw ourselves off a three hundred foot bridge, which was a rush. We then drove 16 hours straight from Zimbabwe to South Africa. That is the much much abridged version of my time in Africa, and I am sure once the pictures get developed or uploaded, I can fill in the numerous pieces of the story that are missing.

Hope everyone is doing well. I miss and love you all, and will keep this blog thing going strong.

I am the Lion King

2008-01-26T00:35:00.000-08:00

After much deliberation I have decided to end the blog formerly known as Pierre In, and start a new blog that chronicles the highlights of my travels through Africa and Europe. For those of you wondering how this change will impact my writing, we will just have to wait and see.

I arrived in Cape Town, South Africa on the 18th of January and spent most of the day just lounging around our hostel in an attempt to familiarize myself with the place. Cape Town looks a lot like most cities built near the ocean, and I would say that its architecture and set up is very closely related to that of San Francisco. It took only the first night for me to realize that I should be more careful when reading the reviews people write about accommodations in Cape Town. If I had paid more attention to these reviews I would have noticed that the one I chose had a tendency to be noisy on the weekends. Seeing as we arrived on a Friday, the next two nights were spent tossing restlessly as African adolescents partied below us until 5 in the morning. Needless to say, I am still trying to catch up on my sleep.

Finally on Sunday morning we met up with the overland tour group and guide we would be traveling with for the next three weeks. Our group is a United Nations-esque mix of people. Those who have come as far as Korea and those who have come from the not as far of Switzerland. I have been practicing my Swiss-German but it is not a functionally sound as my Korean. I look forward to talking to all of you in a foreign tongue when I return home.

We spent the first two days of the tour working our way north through South Africa. On the third day we had to pass through the Namibian border. After the ritual circumcision, I was cleared through customs; however, I felt like Namibia had taken a little away from me. I should mention at this point that our tour is a camping tour, and at night it is Sarah and my responsibility to set up our tent. The first few days were fine, and I believe that we may have even beaten an old German WWII record for fastest tent ever assembled. However, after a few days of pitching the tent, we made the executive decision to just sleep in our sleeping bags on the ground. Not only did this save us time, but it allowed us to be up close and personal with some of the African wildlife, especially the jackals.

I have a plethora of exciting adventures I want to relate, but am pondering the proper way to express my excitement of them. For instance, I was fortunate enough to hike through the dunes of the Namib Desert (that's right - open google map!!!) Our desert guide was a local Namibian man named Franz (don't ask me how his parents came up with that). I learned a lot about the formation of the dunes, and even had the chance to jump down the side of a dune cliff. I felt like surviorman sans camera crew and any outdoors experience (except for the three overnights I did with Brad and Laurie at summer camp).

Of course there have been other highlights, too many to mention without getting carpal tunnel in my fingers. Once we enter Europe it will be much easier for me to access the internet and give everyone reading this a detailed account of my life.

I will leave you with the story of a young Jewish bushman, who in order to become a man in the eyes of his tribe, had to go out into the desert and spear the much feared and highly sought after gifilte fish. After many days the boy had not found the fish, and he began to feel disheartened. How could he return to the tribe without the fish? He pondered a solution for many days and many nights, until waking one morning with a solution. In his haste to return to the village and tell his people how he had fought off the wild Caananite dog, the gifilte fish's biggest predator, he did not leave time for his bread to leaven. When the bushman returned his people ignored his story but marveled at his creation of the newest African food ... matzah.

Hope everyone is well. Much love, I will write more soon.

The End

2007-12-18T19:13:00.000-08:00

Cultural Shock 101

2007-11-12T21:04:00.000-08:00

Today I was able to add to the list of numerous things a scrawny Jewish boy from the 'burbs should not do ... Hunt. However, I decided to put my love of living things aside for a few hours while I ventured into the world of carnage also known as hunting.

However, there was a catch. I was not given a gun. Nor was I given a bow or arrow. Heck, I didn't even get a wooden whistle that made the mating sound of a pheasant. It was strictly my job to trudge through wooded areas of the farm we were hunting at in hopes of flushing the pheasants out so the people with guns could shoot them. I couldn't tell if the people I was hunting with were joking or not when they instructed me to walk through the woods and scare the birds so they could fire shotgun shells in my general direction. Perhaps the only positive in my situation was that I was lucky enough not to be hunting with the vice president of our great nation; at least this meant I had a fighting chance.

When the hunt was over, and our group had killed about 15 birds, 1 jackrabbit, and a cooler of beer, I did learn how to clean a pheasant. This process took me back to my ninth grade science class. I remember walking into class one day and seeing a little baby pig stretched out on a metal tray. I thought about playing the whole "not kosher" deal, but decided that it would be a good learning experience. It was the same thing with the pheasant. I learned how to get rid of the feathers, where to enter the bird in order to remove the internal organs, and how to slice the gizzard up for good eaten'. I am almost positive these skills will help me somewhere down the line, as pheasant was such a popular dish in my household growing up. Mom, this time I'll clean the pheasant so you don't have to.

Halloween

2007-11-12T20:49:00.001-08:00

Halloween is a Pagan holiday. For this reason alone you can pardon my ridicule of such a sound financial scheme. Instead of dressing up as a promiscuous nurse, or a promiscuous police officer, or even a promiscuous firefighter, I decided to go as a much less provocative version of myself. However, I could prematurely sense the disappointment my students would feel by me dressing up as me, so I decided to spend some time carving the likeness of me into a pumpkin.

Sorry

2007-10-15T20:18:00.000-07:00

To all of my adoring fans, I apologize for the long overdue blog update. Many things have happened over the past few weeks, but I will spare details and get down to the nitty gritty.

The first topic of today's blog deals with the current BCS rankings. South Florida, Kansas, Hawaii ... it sounds like the the first three games of the Penn State football season. How can a Penn State team that completely dominated 17th ranked Wisconsin still not fall into a BCS or AP poll rating? At the same time the highly overrated Michigan Wolverines some how managed to find their way into the 24th spot. Does anyone in a position of sports responsibility remember that Michigan lost to Appalachian State and Oregon. Also, they managed to squeeze by Northwestern (should have lost), Purdue (should have lost), and Eastern Michigan. O.k. O.k., so they beat Penn State 14-9 in a real shootout, but did I mention Michigan lost to Appalachian State. Do the sports columnists of this great country not have any dignity for the sport of football. The one positive is that when we beat first-ranked Ohio State in two weeks, it will be that much sweeter.

Well now that football is out of the way, we can talk about my life. I recently spent some time in Denver hanging out with the Rippin Skiers. They showed me a great time, and the possibility of a move to Denver seems all the more reasonable. Perhaps the highlight of my trip, aside from spending time with friends, was my run-in with crazy Chuck, a South Dakotan autochthon full of spirit, song, and alcohol. This man had a song for every occasion. If your hair was blond he had a song, if the sun was shining he had song, if your shoe was untied he had a song. While having a song for all occasions is no real feat, it was the enormous amount of mucus that Chuck would cough up while in mid-song that made his act something to see. There were a few occasions when I thought his heart was actually going to stop from a mucus clog or he was going to rupture something and cause internal bleeding. Either way I guess I was not the only one concerned because the waitress cut him off at 5:30 in the afternoon. Chuck, if you are reading this (which judging by your basic demeanor and the fact you were paying for alcohol in spare change makes me think you are not), I really do wish you the best buddy, and South Dakota misses you dearly.

The trip was great, and really helped with my headspace. I am back in the classroom and loving every minute of it. In what other profession could a lesson on garbage and pollution turn into a 15-minute discussion on flatulence? I was teaching about garbage and landfills, and just as I was explaining how the methane produced underground from garbage landfills needs to be released to prevent combustion, one of the students farted. In the education world we call this a "teachable moment." You can imagine my students surprise when their teacher told them that if I was to hold a match to their fart I could produce a tiny explosion (the adjective varies depending on the lunch being served that afternoon). I had a few teachers ask me later on in the day why my kids were discussing methane to the other students. The way I see it is if they can remember the word methane, it shouldn't matter that they are talking about flatulence.

I hope to keep this blog updated from here on out, but I do not put any guarantees on that. I look forward to talking to everyone soon, but in the meantime stay good. Love you all.

2007-09-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

In lieu of recent events surrounding my phone bill, I have decided to take my Lent vow early this year. I am going to give up talking on my cell phone for 40 days. Some of you may think I'm crazy. Some of you may even be saying, "But wait, he has the most sophisticated piece of technological equipment available on the market (*** that is of course excluding the Nintendo Wii and the Toyota Prius ... but those don't count they are Japanese products). Well you naysayers are correct. I do have an iphone, but I have come to realize that the iphone is the one responsible for my astronomic phone bill. You see, the iphone makes it incredibly easy for me to dial 11 easy digits and talk to someone from lets say ... Sweden! If Steve Jobs had made it a little more difficult for me to dial overseas, I would not be faced with such a burdensome phone bill. With that being said, if you need me I can be reached by starting a bonfire and quickly waving a blanket over it 7 times. Carefully not to wave it eight times because that is the universal code for After Labor Day Shopping Sale.

In school news, I received a wonderful question from one of the girls in my class. It was the afternoon and I was teaching math (for those of you that know my math ability, I use the term "teaching" very loosely in that sentence), when the young girl raised her hand and asked, "Mr. Schwartz, what if that guy never invented clothing?" I was a little surprised at how sure she was of it being a man that invented clothing. In fact, after owning a pair of button-fly jeans, I am almost one hundred percent sure that it was not a man who invented clothing. Anyway, I asked my students what they thought life would be like if clothing was never invented. One boy raised his hand and said, "There is no way I would come to school." I agree with him, why come to school when you could be out running around naked!

What Is Good Parenting?

2007-09-22T15:54:00.000-07:00

If any Pennsylvanian parent approves of their child going to the University of Michigan, I suggest that child services be notified immediately. Nothing good could possibly come from sending a child to Michigan, a school rooted in corrupt football. I hope that ever player on the Michigan football team is convicted of academic fraud. I also hope that their fate rest in the hands of an extremely unforgiving judiciary board.

Daily Minutes

2007-09-13T17:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I am officially the new third grade teacher. Today the lady I work with gave birth to a baby boy, and all I gave birth to was an ulcer.

It isn't all that bad. My mornings run very smoothly, and all the kids in my morning reading group (a two and a half hour block) are my classroom students. This is good because they understand my rules and expectations.

At the end of the day, I gave my students a few minutes to make pictures for Mrs. Doe. As they were handing their pictures in, I noticed that one boy had drawn a picture of a lady giving birth to a child. Of course, I thought that this was the greatest card ever made, and I can't wait to deliver to my mentor teacher in the hospital. This card is almost as good as a letter that one of my girls gave to me yesterday. Written in the most beautiful handwriting was a card that read, "Dear Mrs. Doe and Mr. Schwartz, I can't wait until you have your baby!" Not only was the message great but she had drawn a beautiful flower and balloons on the front. I will also include that card in the package I deliver tomorrow.

I cannot wait for Friday to arrive, and I think that I might check out a Pow Wow that is happening in Pierre this weekend, as some of my students will be there dancing. I'll make sure to let everyone know how it goes. In the mean time hope all is well with everyone. Much love.

How

2007-09-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

It has been recently brought to my attention that there are certain components of my blog that may not follow standard English protocol. I would like to mention one simple fact - It's my blog and I will cry if I want to. With that being said, I will use as many prepositions at the end of a sentence, grammatical errors, and vernacular slangs as I wish.

There were a few things that happened to me today that help me look back on the day's events and laugh. The first of these many moments came around 8:45 this morning. I had just informed my students that Mrs. Doe (names have been changed for legal reasons) was admitted to the hospital, and that her baby was most likely on the way. I talked about how she would need some time off to recover and when she was ready she would bring the baby in for all of us to see. I then asked my students if they had any questions (sometimes I do this for my own personal enjoyment). Of course, one of my students in the back row raised his hand and asked in complete seriousness, "Did the baby poop in Mrs. Doe's stomach?" There were a few things that made this question so unique and difficult to answer. The first thing was the sincerity with which he asked the question, and the second was the fact that he used the word poop with ten other 3rd graders around. Needless to say, I had to do my best bullshitting to answer his question and keep my composure.

The second event I will discuss involves a new teacher, a half a pot of coffee, and one extremely upset bladder. In all of my teaching experiences, I have been free to use the bathroom at my leisure. However, today was my first time in the classroom without any assistance from a mentor. Seeing as I was going to be teaching all day, I thought it would be a good idea to consume as much coffee as possible in the morning. Well, 9:05 swung around and I could already tell that it was going to be the longest day of my life. By 10:15, every part of my body was quivering. I scanned my brain for possible ways to escape to the bathroom. Some of the ideas I came up with were - just peeing myself, calling the office for a five minute substitute, or reporting a terrorist attack and running to the bathroom (too soon?). Although the pain was unbearable, I managed to make it to 11:15. I dropped my students off at the gym, and told them that in the spirit of excercise I was going to run back to the classroom as fast as I could. They all started cheering me on, and I sprinted to the classroom. What I thought would be a five minute pee ... was.

The rest of the day was pretty standard. Everything has become a little more hectic, but I am still in control.

The only other thing I feel needs to be mentioned is that I discovered what I believe to be the worst job in the world. In my opinion, being a camerman for the Women's World Cup has to be the worst job ever. In case you have not been following, the Women's World Cup of soccer is currently happening in China. I watched a game this morning between Sweden and Nigeria in which every three touches resulted in a turn over to the other team. It was like watching ping-pong sans grunting. I'm not saying that the reason the camera kept swinging back and forth was because they were women, but more likely because they suck.

Love to all, and keep me in your thoughts as you ask for forgiveness for your sins (especially after this entry)!

What A Monday

2007-09-10T18:23:00.000-07:00

For those of you following along at home, life just got real. Today I learned a thing or two about embryonic fluid. Apparently, if this fluid begins to leak, they admit you to the hospital because most likely your baby is on the way. What does this mean for me? Well it means I will finally have the classroom all to myself.

I am rather excited about the whole situation. I think that it is great that the lady I teach with is having a baby and she will make a great mother, but also I will now have the chance to add my own flavor (white devil flavor) to the classroom. While this was exciting news to end my day with, I also forgot to mention that a large number of students have infentigo. When the nurse first told me the news, I could have sworn she said elephantiasis. Imagine my disappointment when I pictured my classroom full of children who would be required to carry their testicles around in a shopping cart. However, I was relieved to learn that she said infentigo, which just means that huge bolstering pus mounds would be on my student's faces.

Anyway, I wanted to dedicate most of this entry to an email Jill sent me about Muslims not being capable of being good American citizens, but I have decided that I might have to spend more time researching everything I wanted to rant and rave about. Mom let me know if that email was sent to you as a serious message, or was it just one of your friends messing around with you? Love you all.

Sincerely,

The 3rd grade teacher formerly known as "White Bastard"

My Sister the College Student

2007-09-06T14:17:00.000-07:00

There are a few times in a man's life when he can consciously remember a tear coming to his eye. Perhaps the birth of his first child, receiving his first automobile, or the first time he talks to his inebriated sister at college. For me, the latter was definitely one of those occasions.

Ever since arriving at college four or so days ago, Kady has been out to defecate on the Catholic diocese. Beliefs that apply to many catholics such as possession of a threefold ministry, veneration of Mary mother of Jesus, and the continuous organizational descent from the original church founded by Jesus, are just a few of Seton Hall's strict foudations that my sister wishes to challenge. And who can blame her. wasn't it Jesus's curious nature that lead him to the finding of Catholicism? Would Seton Hall even been standing today, if Jesus had not decide to dabble in Goyism?

So my advice to you Kady (that is if you have continued to read this far) is to branch out and explore the curiosity that comes with entering college or any new surrounding for that matter. Maybe head to a church service or two. But just make sure that if you are going to subject yourself to a catholic service, you owe it to yourself to take part in the body or Christ. (*** I would like to just make a side reference here to inform Eric that the body of Christ is a lot like his body - alcohol and wafers).

In related news, I was watching a show on MSNBC that I think was called "Inside America's Prisons." I'm not sure if it was pure coincidence or a strategically made video to scare the life out of me, but I swear that every inmate they interviewed was from Newark, NJ. Kady please do me a favor and stay the hell out of Newark.

Hope all is well with everyone, and I look forward to seeing you all in a few days. Kady please say a hail mary for Penn State.

L'chiam

First Week Summary

2007-08-31T13:48:00.000-07:00

It is the end of my first week, and oddly enough I feel a lot like ....... ERIC! I received a $1200 paycheck for doing absolutely nothing. Sure I run off copies of math sheets, laminate posters of the color wheel, and flush fecal matter down the toilet when my students forget how, but is all of this deserving of a hefty paycheck? I guess it is! The only thing separating me from my much more productive brother, is my professional decorum. Sorry Er, but all the people here love me (at least that is what they tell me to my face).

In all honesty, I have really had a hard time dealing with the amount of down time I have during my day. For instance, today I spent a good part of the morning attempting to fix the laminator. Any one who has ever worked in a school district knows the importance of a well running laminator, and I did not want to let any of my colleagues down. After fidgeting with the machine, I decided to direct my attention to the 200 or so copies I had to make. Well copying really didnt take me that long either, and with nothing left to do, I was forced to head back to the classroom.

All of this monotony was just my morning. Trust me my afternoon did not get much better, and as I am sure you are all bogged down with work, I will spare you the details. However, the week is over and I am now formulating thoughts for my weekend. Odessa (my roommate), Justin (my friend), and I (the figurative me), were thinking of heading to the Twin Cities for a day or two. I like the idea, but I may push for a trip to Jackson, Wyoming - home of the Teton mountains. I will make sure to keep everyone updated, and hopefully there will be pictures to accompany my mindless rambling. Love you All!

P.S. Splat - hope teaching is the shit!!!

The First Day

2007-08-27T14:02:00.000-07:00

I assume that the purpose of a blog is to inform people of your life on a daily basis. With that being said, I realize that it has been almost a week since my last blog. However, on a positive note, nothing of any really significance has happened to me here in Pierre since that last blog.

Today was the first day of school. I walked in to the cafeteria bright and early to see a hundred or so beautiful faces staring at me. It could be the glasses, but more likely it is my whiteness. The day was spent informing students of the do's and do nots of the classroom. We went over every mundane detail in hopes that the students would be able to follow along. One of the positive things about student teaching in the spring is that all of the conditioning is already done (Pavlov had the right idea), and the kids know what to do and when to do it.

Finally, I have decided to include a small section that addresses any humorous/ridiculous comments. For example, today one of the young girls in my class walked up to the lady I teach with, looked at her pregnant stomach and calmly asked, "Are you still with the baby's daddy?" I am sure that there will be plenty of good quotes in the near future. In the meantime, I hope everyone is well. I will speak to you all soon.

Back at School

2007-08-21T18:31:00.000-07:00

Howdy Ya'll,

I am officially back in the swing of things. I have set myself up in my old room, and it feels semi-comfortable to be back.

The past few days have been perhaps the most boring days of my professional career. Day one was spent reviewing insurance. I probably should have been paying attention, as this information will probably help me in the future; however, I wanted to see how many times I could fit the alphabet on a standard sheet of paper. I think I was up in the thirties before I lost feeling in my hand (side note - I was wondering if there is workman's comp for the pain I suffered in my writing hand?).

Today we had a staff meeting in which the superintendent addressed us on the policies and procedures of PILC. He paid particular attention to certain "important" points of the handbook. One of these points involved the appearance of staff. The superintendent informed us that he prefers when people are clean shaven. After saying this, many of the teachers broke out into laughter. When Mr. J (the superintendent) asked what was so funny, a few people mentioned how his last comment had probably ruined my school year. I managed to laugh myself, but it was mostly because they have no idea Jesus is about to be back in full force.

I am heading to Macy, Nebraska this thursday to pick up some of our students from the Omaha tribe. It is an overnight trip, and I am sure that I willl have some interesting stories to tell when I get back. Until then, I will leave you all with love. Hope to hear from people soon.