I knew that I wasn't doing a great job packing when I left Washington State last week for Sofia but I couldn't get my head around what I needed to bring with me and what I already had in Sofia.  I stocked up on books for the year both to teach and for pleasure.  I bought a new camera hello Canon Rebel! But somehow in the hubub and rush of getting packed up I brought with me only one pair of dress pants.

A year ago this would have freaked me out.  This year I had a good laugh at myself and thought: well, this means that you get to do some shopping. Then I spent some time thinking about what it means that I brought 30 pounds of books with me and only one pair of dress pants.  I think it all gets back to my priorities--it's not like I purposefully only packed one pair of pants--I was just thinking, although obsessing might be a better word, about what I was going to be teaching this year rather than what I was going to wear teaching.

That and Bulgaria has taught me a lot over the last year. After I won my Fulbright to Bulgaria, I worried endlessly about what to pack, how I could get a years worth of things, clothing and mementos in two suitcases.  I fretted about what I needed and then I questioned myself about whether my needs were actually needs or wants. I cautioned myself not to bring frivolous things and I endlessly packed and re-packed my suitcases.

Today, I can barely recognize this girl in myself. This time I packed in a couple of hours and brought two suitcases with me--one of books and the other clothes.  And as I unpacked in Sofia, I could hardly keep myself from laughing at as I hung an assortment of mismatched clothes up. I packed what I love this time not necessarily what matched.

But today it's different.  I know what to expect.  This time around I know at least five important things.  <!--more-->
<ul>
	<li>First I know that I can find what I need here in Bulgaria and I know where to find it now which was very different than a year ago where I didn't know my way around the city, I was bad at (or couldn't) ask questions in shops, and I felt overwhelmed by everything.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
	<li>Second, Bulgaria taught me (or alternately I learned) how to drink a small hot coffee out of a plastic cup.  So much so, that when I was back in the States it would take me forever to drink a "regular" 12 ounce coffee.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
	<li> Next, this past year I learned wow to open aryan and yogurt containers without spraying yogurt or aryan (a plain yogurt like kind-of-smoothy).  What's important here is that the lids are all metal with a little tab that you pull on to open the container.  The problem is if you open it with the tab facing you more likely than not you'll end up with yogurt all over yourself.  The key: to turn the tab so that it's across from you and open the container so that the lid pulls back towards you--this reduces the likelihood that you'll end up with yogurt on yourself.  It won't however eliminate the yogurt all over yourself but it helps a lot.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
	<li> Fourth, I learned how to live without a clothes dryer.  I hang clothes outside and time my washing machine so that I can hang things outside in the sun at the best part of the day.  There was  a part of me that hated it to start with--especially when the clothes were wrinkly-wrinkly or not all the way dry--but now I really like it.  But I love it--especially when the clothes come in smelling like sunshine.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
	<li> Finally, Bulgaria is teaching me how to get over my fear of making mistakes.  My nature is such that I don't like to make mistakes, I don't like to ask questions that might reveal that I don't understand something but the thing is that I quickly learned that I would be completely miserable if I lived my life this way.  So I started asking questions, letting people know that I know that I didn't know something or calling friends to ask for help.  Sure, I am still afraid of looking stupid and I worry that people are regularly judging what I say (if they can understand my bad Bulgarian) or what I do but I've gotten over the worst of it.  Mostly I hope that they can laugh at me.</li>
</ul>
I guess that this is a good a point as any to conclude this post.  I hope that the people I meet and interact with each day are able to laugh at me.  I don't mean that I hope that laugh at my pain but I hope that they get a kick out me--trying because that's what I am always doing.  I am trying to live in Bulgaria, I am trying to learn the language and I am trying to have a good time doing it.

So when I imagine how people react to me I'd like to imagine that they are laughing at me and getting a kick out me--a foreigner trying to navigate this confusing and sometimes mixed-up place--rater than the other option which is that they are annoyed with me.  The good thing and hard thing is it's hard to actually know how people are reacting to you because as a whole Bulgarians are well trained at keeping a single expression on their faces so much so that I never know what they are thinking.  Thus I assume they are getting a kick out of me because when you don't get any indication whatsoever what someone else is thinking I believe that you can insert your own ideas into this empty space.  That and it's a hell of a lot nicer to think that you're making someone laugh (even if they're laughing at you) rather than thinking that you're annoying someone, making them angry or wasting their time.