Paperwork is going to be the death of me. It would be nice
if there was some snazzy computer interface that Fulbright could use to receive
all of these forms. It’s rather confusing and I’m afraid I’m going to lose one.
Since my grant starts in September, any sort of delay could delay my first
payment until after I need to be in Latvia.
Nevertheless, the paperwork is almost submitted. I’m mailing
off my completed medical forms tomorrow. I need to also send off my loan
deferment papers and various other papers that require my signature. Some of it
will have to wait until I have an actual address and location in Latvia.
In other news, I have a coat. I had visions of being
swallowed up by a down parka, but the coat isn’t as ugly as I imagined. It wasn’t
too expensive. (Dez recommended Burlington Coat Factory and though it took some
digging, I found a suitable coat.) I also bought some awesome Merrell boots and
some Smartwool socks.
The embassy has been in contact. I found out that I’ll be in
either Rezekne or Valmiera (not Daugavpils
as previously thought). Rezekne is about 50% Russian. Valmiera, to my
knowledge, is less Russian. I imagine they’ll put me in Rezekne since I have a
background in Russian and no background in Latvian, but who knows? I’m prepared
for either. Both are charming. Latvia
is small enough that I’ll be a few short hours from Riga
regardless.
I’ll be assistant teaching at the high school level. I’d
rather hoped for a university setting, but the more I think about it, the more
I’m okay with high school. We can talk about pop culture. Hopefully. As I wrote
that sentence, I realized that I’ll be 10 years older than most of these kids.
What sort of pop culture do I share with 16-year-olds in Latvia?
Oy. (How is that for stream of consciousness blogging?)
For the most part, I’m not particularly worried about being in
Latvia. I
figure, if I survive the getting there I’ll be able to roll with whatever
happens. The worry comes out while I’m lying in bed at night, trying to sleep.
It’s hard to drown out the little voice telling me that I’m going to be lonely
and cold and miserable and that I’m giving up a good job, a great town, and
fantastic friends for a lark. That’s the voice that also wonders loudly why I
feel the need to wander off to other countries when it’d be a hell of a lot
easier to just be happy here. I usually don’t have an answer, but when I wake
up, those thoughts are gone because I’m so damned busy.
I went to Texas
to visit my family around the fourth of July. It was hotter in Kansas
than it was in College Station. Not
much happened. I re-discovered why I don’t have cable. I found a book on
Latvian. We went shopping in Houston.
I ate Mexican breakfast and had steak-fingers from Dairy Queen. My brother and father
made bratwurst from scratch -an endeavor that I never wish to witness again. I
prefer a certain level of disconnect between the preparation of my meat
products and myself. I made cabbage stuff. It was pretty good. I can follow
directions like a boss. Mom made strudel. It tasted lovely but looked like a
giant sandworm from Dune, so I fashioned eyes for the worm and a tiny Paul Atreides
out of a rolled up piece of bread and cherry stems to put on top. The dog
almost ate Paul, but he survived to ride the sandworm into the apple-scented
sunset.
On the Kansas
front, I’m busy. I’m still working full time. I’m trying to figure out how to pare
down and
pack up my apartment. My parents are arriving to take care of my bed
and the cats on the 27th. After that, I’m living somewhere? That’s
still in the works.
Also, I’ve got an
orientation in DC in a couple of weeks. I’m excited, even though we won’t have
much actual time to see DC.
