Finding Religion

Thank you to Declan for bringing this to my attention. Here are two of my favorite FSM-related graphics. First, the paragon of scientific support for FSMism... ...and now an artistic rendering of Him by Niklas Jansson. I now feel complete.

I'm Pathetic

Tonight, I was watching a Thanksgiving episode of The Simpsons (second season; Bart flings Lisa’s centerpiece into the fireplace) and I started to cry. Especially when they mentioned the sweet potatoes. Don’t get no sweet potatoes ‘round these parts. No yams neither.

Oh, Maklish...

And just because I feel like it, here’s a picture of one of my favorite signs in Struga. In case you can’t read it, it says “Welcome to the best grill in the town end all kinds lake fish thanks you for your trust welcome again!” When I am deciding which restaurant to patronize, trustworthiness isn’t usually one of my criteria. Perhaps it should be.

Struga Five-O

It was bound to happen. Spend two years in a foreign country and you’ll inevitably have at least one run-in with the cops. Or, in my case, a swim-in.

Yesterday, the weather was beautiful, so I decided to go for a swim in the lake. Of course, it is now far too late in the year for any right-minded bearer of a Macedonian passport to go swimming, so I was the only person actually in the water. (“You go swimming NOW?! But it’s too cold!” Wimps. Get into an outdoor pool in DC in May, and then we’ll talk.)

I should probably mention that when I go swimming, I GO SWIMMING. None of this standing-around, old-lady-sidestroke, little-mermaid-hair-flipping bullhonky. Racing suit. Cap. Goggles. Stopwatch. Giddy up.

So, in my usual fashion, I headed out past the reeds and weeds toward the middle of the lake, then turned to swim parallel to the shore and around the aforementioned reeds and weeds. I swam past a couple beaches and reed beds, then turned back after about a half an hour. I realized that this might be the last time I’m in the lake, so I took off my goggles and did a little elementary backstroke (AKA tickle-T-touch AKA monkey-airplane-soldier) so I could look at the beautiful mountains that surround the lake.

I was in mid-monkey when I saw a nice speedboat heading straight for me. (Cue “Miami Vice” theme song.) This was particularly unusual because (1) there were no other boats on the lake, and (2) nice boats are few and far between here. Not so unusual that it was heading straight for me, as boaters in these parts like to use me for target practice. As the boat approached me, it slowed down and I saw POLICIJA emblazoned on the side. Was I breaking a law? No swimming after September 15th? Speeding? Illegal breaststroke kick? At least I felt comfortable that they wouldn’t deliberately run over me. They kept pace with me for a few minutes, then they continued on toward my destination, the little beach by my apartment building. I noticed that they were poking around the reeds a lot, but still wasn’t sure what they were doing.

After a few more minutes, the boat turned around and began to return from whence it came. They honked at me and asked if I was going to “that beach.” Yes, I replied. They said something else that I didn’t quite understand and sped off. Then, as my little beach came into view from behind the reed bed, I saw four men standing and looking toward the lake…and I understood.

I had been gone for so long that they called the police to search for me! Apparently, going swimming for an hour is highly unlikely here. The men on the beach greeted me with a heroine’s welcome, thoroughly amazed that I could still walk after such an ordeal. I was touched that these strangers were so concerned about me. I was sorry that I worried them so much. I was disturbed by a mental picture of my body entangled in the reeds. But more than anything, I found it hilarious.

What I find particularly amusing is this: The police were responding to a call about a missing swimmer. They head directly toward the only swimmer in the lake, who happens to be relatively close to the place that the missing swimmer was last seen. They pass the swimmer, spend fifteen minutes poking around the reeds, THEN ask the swimmer if she’s the missing person. Brilliant.

What a way to end the summer. If I manage to get in another swim this year, I’ll be sure to tell the nearest sunbather to call the police only AFTER I’ve been gone for an hour.

PS: In exactly 6 weeks, I will be in London. Holla.

Churches Galore

Last weekend, Beth came down to Struga for a weekend of local sightseeing. First, we hit up the cave churches in the villages of Radozda and Kalista. The cave church in Radozda is dedicated to Archangel Michael and dates back to the 13th century. The church is usually kept locked, so we had to go into the closest restaurant and ask for the key.







The inside of the cave church in Radozda.










Kalista has two cave churches. The church dedicated to the Holy Mother (Sveti Bogorodica) dates back to the 15th century is attached to a hotel (Comfort Inn and Monastery). It consists of a rickety staircase that joins a few creepy cave-rooms that have frescoes, altars and other orthodox-y things. (Sorry, no pictures yet.)

The other cave church, Sveti Atanas, is much less attached to a hotel. Beth and I had seen enough churches, so we decided not to seek the key to this one, and instead opted to take silly pictures.

The second cave church in Kalista... and me.

Next, we went to Sveti Naum, or as Beth kept calling it, Sweaty Naum. (In case you haven’t figured it out yet, “Sveti” means “Saint.”) Here, there is yet another church/monastery attached to a hotel. Thankfully for these churched-out girls, Sweaty Naum also boasts a peacock colony, freshwater springs, a few beaches and beautiful vistas. And we were boasting wine, chips and salsa in our backpacks.

Apparently they breed the peacocks to match the paint jobs on the nearst car.

Funny story (that you may or may not find funny): We saw a little hut-church called Saint-something-other-than-Naum. Inside there were lots of traditional orthodox offerings, such as money, oil and knitwear (seriously). Outside of the hut-church, there was a little sign with an arrow indicating “Saint Water.” We followed the arrow, and it led to A FAUCET. And the faucet was surrounded by the same kinds of offerings as in the hut-church. At the time, we were in dire need of a bathroom, so we proceeded to look around for an arrow pointing to “Saint Toilet.” (We didn’t find it. A non-holy toilet sufficed, though.)

Krushevo

Krushevo was not only the site of our COS conference—it is also a hotbed of Macedonian history! Early in the 20th century when Macedonia was still under Ottoman rule, a bunch of Krushevites rose up against their oppressors and founded the first incarnation of an independent Macedonian republic, conveniently called the Krushevo Republic. The Krushevites held down the fort (a figurative fort, I think) for all of 10 days before the Ottomans returned and put their feet up on the nascent republic.

Krushevo is somewhat of a tourist destination these days. In the 70s, a monument in honor of the short-lived Krushevo Republic was built. However, two fatal errors were made with regard to this monument. First, they named it the “Makedonium.” I don’t know about you, but for me, that name evokes images of a crumbling sports complex. Second, they modeled the monument after a retro-futuristic tinker-toy spaceship.

Makedonium aside, Krushevo was a darling little mountain town. And they have a great public transportation system.

COS Conference

From Tuesday until Friday of last week, I joined my fellow volunteers from the MAK8 group at our Close of Service Conference in Krushevo. Various members of the PC staff in Skopje gave us tons of information about all the things we have to do before they will honorably discharge us—mostly paperwork. We also talked about what it will be like to leave Makdo and return to the United States. At some point, I realized that as much as I am looking forward to coming home, I will probably go through a rough transition period and sink into a mild depression for a month or so. Mom, Dad, this means I will likely spend hours on the phone with my PC friends, almost all of whom live in different time zones. We will probably just cry into our respective receivers, bawling about how no one in the United States gets it (“it” yet to be determined). Please just put up with me and soon I’ll return to normal (“normal” also yet to be determined).

At the COS conference, we did such things as list our accomplishments over the past 2 years. And on a scandalous side note, three of the (male) volunteers in this picture are either already married to or planning to marry women from Macedonia! Thus far, we have a total of 5 lifetime love matches in our group (2 female PCVs and their Makdo men, and 3 male PCVs and their Makdo women). Our Admin Guy, Jim, has playfully dubbed the Peace Corps Macedonia program the "Macedonian-American Dating and Marriage Service" or MADAMS, for short.