Day 4: Melancholy of Identity

What would an international travel experience be without a slight existential crisis? Yesterday I had the melt down, wondering if I was cut out to be a mother and wanting the possibility of other lives. Today our family handled the conference better and I was able to delve (happily at first) into questions beyond diapers and toddler fits. I came face to face with one of the past lives I have lived and experienced a rather old and tired crisis of sexual identity.

Today is pride. In the U.S., it is a particularly important pride, as same-sex couples have been recognized by the federal government as a legitimate marriage possibility. Putting aside the fact that I view marriage as a problematic, archaic institution (despite reaping the benefits of my straight marriage over the past two years), I am enthusiastically happy about what this says about how society views LGBTQ people.

I have never been to a pride event before today. Seville has a rather large (in my opinion) LGBTQ community, and the pride parade was much bigger than I expected. As I stood on the sidewalk, my arm wrapped around Nikola's waist and our son looking forward with his usual confusion, I felt shivers run over my arms. Excitement crept over my skin, but settled into me as a strange type of dread.

I felt the way I always feel when I look at a group of people that I long to join: like an outsider. In this case, I really am an outsider. I am not Spanish, so I know nothing of the local LGBTQ struggle. More blatantly obvious: I am pretty much living the life of a straight woman.

They say sexuality is not defined by your current relationship, but by your desire. I have always identified somewhere in the murky waters between bi and pan sexual, but as my focus draws ever more tightly to my family, I find that even my desire is fading. I find men and women attractive, but I no longer desire to have sex with them. I no longer have the energy to imagine or desire sexually. I am pretty much Nikola-sexual these days.

I have never been comfortable in the LGBTQ community. Perhaps it is because I am a bi woman, and our experiences and existence are so often discounted. My sexuality has been called into question by gay women and by straight men. You know who has not called my sexuality into question? The people who I have dated. The man I have married. For this reason, my sexuality never became part of my culture. I never immersed myself in the political and social aspects of sexuality. I allowed sexuality to just be a part of me- not a definition of me.

Still, on days like today, I wish that I could run through the streets, laughing with my arms around the waists of others, my lips on their ears, and laughter bubbling in our throats. I wish I was part of that community of people. I wish that I could stand up and claim my sexuality in front of the world. But I am left wondering--- what is the point if the life I am living does not acknowledge it? Sometimes I feel like a traitor. Other times I feel like the only role available to me in the LGBTQ community is that of an ally, despite the fact that I am actually LGBTQ.

What saves me is that my husband is supportive of me in these moments, standing next to me as the parade passes, asking me if he should run our son under the giant rainbow flag on the street. At least there is that.   

Spain: Day 2

Yep. Head over heels with this place. Or maybe it is just the aspect of 'vacation.' Honestly, I was a little crabby before we left because I thought, "How can the primary caregiver in a family actually have a vacation, especially with the whole family there?" When your daily routine consists of changing diapers, dealing with melt downs, and singing "Where is Thumbkin?" on repeat, is a change of location going to make much of a difference? Won't there still be diapers and melt downs and thumbkin?

The answer is, yes, there definitely are all of the things I do on a daily basis at home, but they are easier to do here. For one, Nikola has actually been on vacation these past two days. He has been with me and Peatuk. He put away his computer (despite being late on a few projects- yipes) and stepped up to helping manage Peatuk and giving me attention. THAT feels like vacation. Not absolute, but taking away half of my daily responsibilities is quite a lot. I can sit and enjoy a cup of coffee. That is nice.

Besides Nikola, the parks here are a great vacation. There is something about the way they are set up, with a giant square surrounding a rather large play area, that makes it safe to let Peatuk have a little more space and autonomy. He rarely goes outside of the park, and if he decides to, I can let him wander and just trail after him. It is relaxing to not have to constantly guide, engage, and shepherd him. I love not having to tell him no. This really makes me ache for a yard of our own, which he is free to roam and explore.

How nice the other people are here also makes it feel like vacation. They are super into football. I thought that kids in Bulgaria were into football, but here it is everyone. This morning, Peatuk was wandering around and we came across two little boys playing football on the alameda. They were using the columns at one end as their goal post.

Photo from wiki commons. Columns @
Alameda de Hercules, Seville Spain

No one seemed concerned or upset that they were playing with a cultural monument. (This goes into my theory that the people here really enjoy to LIVE in their space. To make use of it. To enjoy it.) Instead, an older woman stopped and shouted encouragement at the boys, giving them tips on their foot positioning. She then asked if I was their mother. I said that I don't speak Spanish and shook my head, pointing to just me and Peatuk. She didn't mind that I didn't speak Spanish. She continued talking for a moment, with a huge smile, and then engaged Peatuk for a bit.
Peatuk was enthralled with the strange game he was watching and, of course, toddled up to the boys. They let him take their football away and put it on the ground and they both shouted, "GOAL!" for him when he gave it a little push. They didn't have that much patience to stop their game, so I took Peatuk away at that point, but the fact that they were so polite about it made my morning.
A while later, the ball got chased away by a football, and a woman around my age trapped it perfectly and kicked it back. It was like, 'If you are on the alameda, you are engaged in our game.' And that was just it- everyone WAS engaged. They were happy to be engaged with each other.

I notice fewer phones out, a few more old school newspapers in the morning. But mostly, people earnestly chatting with each other. Listening with desire to understand. Speaking with animation and passion. I really wish that I knew how to speak Spanish, but even without it, I can tell that these conversations are lovely points of engagement. 

Spain: Arrival

I need to remind myself not to fall in love while I am here. Or do I? Maybe a rousing case of city-lust is just the thing I need to get me out of the doldrums of having a toddler as my most constant companion.

As soon as we got here, I felt like I was at home. The dry heat is similar to Tucson. The food, the language. It makes my heart ache for a "home" that I put aside a long time ago. Yet, even though there are similarities, the differences make it its own, unique place. In many ways, it is better, simply because it is Spain- a place I have daydreamed so idly about that I wasn't even aware of my dreams. A constant voice in the back of my heart saying, "Someday, you should go to Spain," with absolutely no logical reason why.

In those dreams, I always imagined myself on a balcony. Second floor. White curtains blowing in the breeze. Opening onto one of those tiny, cobblestone walks. We have that in our room here, but it is better than the dream. The tiles- the cool way they feel under my bare feet and the contrasting patterns. The bare walls. The tiny balcony that actually turns our who room into a balcony. It is absolutely perfect.

The language is different than Southwest Spanish. I knew it was different, logically, but hearing it is spoken is still shocking, and beautiful. It sounds round and open, the mouth so soft as people speak. Speaking of mouths... the smiles. Everywhere, there seems to be the hint of a smile just waiting to be shared. When they are shared, they are given so liberally that I cannot help but return them. The smiling makes me slightly giddy. Drunk, and I have yet to take a sip.

Six days can't possibly be enough. Or it might be. I remember the way I fell in love with Istanbul, and the way that moving there ruined the allure of that magical place. I am sure that moving here would also taint my starry-eyed notions of perfection. However, I definitely will keep Seville in my back pocket as one of the perfect vacation cities for me. Sometimes, you step off of a plane and you feel like you are home. You feel right. Dead strings resonate in your heart. Those are places worth exploring.

The First Run After...

On Monday I went for my first run since I have been pregnant. It was my first run in almost two years. It is hard to believe it has been that long. Running was so ingrained into my identity that I could not imagine skipping two years, and in a lot of ways it feels like just last winter I was training for the cheverny marathon.

But I wasn't.

Last winter I was raising a little boy who was learning how to babble and smile. I had this and that health problem left over from 9 months of swelling to accommodate said boy, not the least of which were ingrown toenails that prevented me from walking comfortably, let alone running.

Now, everything is more or less sorted and I can run. I even have a babysitter who can watch Peatuk so I can have up to two hours to myself, reading, writing, sleeping, cleaning, or... practicing the physical exercises.

That is how Monday I packed up the aforementioned baby boy in his stroller, took said babysitter with me, and hit the track just around the corner from my house.

In a lot of ways, the 'run' was absurd. I jogged a mile, walked a lap, and then jogged a second mile. That was it. I was incredibly slow. The whole ordeal took me almost half an hour. For two and a quarter miles! My lung capacity that I worked so hard to build up over the years is almost completely shot. My joints are not used to running. Two days later, my muscles are STILL sore. And, I can no longer run in a regular bra, lest my milk-filled bosom bop me in the nose.

My body and my mind still remembers heading out for 30 km runs. They remember my posture. They remember that a 10 km used to be an easy day. Now, I can't even make a 5 km run in one go. In some ways, all of that hard work I put into running is gone. In other ways, I know I am mentally ready to get back into it and so it should not be as hard as starting over from the very beginning. I know what to expect. I know which training regimes work for me.

Even as I say it was a bad run, it was also a very good run. Because I did it. Because I used my body again. Because there were moments that I reconnected with a part of me that has been dormant for so long, and I could feel her in there. I know the first couple of months are going to be frustrating, and I know that I have to remember to be kind and gentle with myself. I have to remember not to expect to much. I have to remember that I was basically sedentary for the past year and a half. (Something I will not fall into during any subsequent pregnancies).

I have set an easy goal. By the end of the summer I want to be running 10k again. Not a fast 10k. Just 10 continuous kilometers without feeling exhausted or straining my lungs. I don't even have a weekly amount I am working towards. Nothing so complex. I just want to be able to go out, on and given day, and hit a good, solid stride for about an hour and not want to stop when it ends. 

Spring Training

Sometimes I feel like Nikola and I are smack in the middle of the traditional family fairy tale. Of course, I arrived at it in a roundabout way, 10 years after the fairy tale usually starts. After all of my adventures, this one feels quaint and frustratingly slow. At the same time, I have never felt more stable and more happy than I do here, with my husband and son, in our little one-bedroom apartment in Gabrovo, Bulgaria. The conflicting emotions are strange, to say the least, but not altogether bad.

At the moment, our goal is to get Paiyak Development off the ground. Honestly, it is going great. Nikola's profits are steadily growing. His interns are turning into junior developers that can make great contributions to the company. His clients are more than happy with his work and his client base continues to grow. At the same time, we are working on building a brand that is socially aware and makes a contribution to our community.

All of this comes at a price, though. Nikola is at the office for about 10-11 hours a day, Monday through Friday, and another 6-8 hours on Saturday. All that leaves for us as a family are Sundays. Four days a month that slip away too quickly. When I don't think 24 hours a day every day would be enough to satiate my desire to cuddle with him and explore with him, how could Sundays possibly be enough?

While I refuse to be the family that always puts works first and ends up miserable slaves to money, I realize that Nikola loves his work and is not unhappy in front of his computer, solving problems. I also realize that this is short term. In a few months, he should be able to scale back his hours a little bit, and within a year we hope that he will be working just over full-time. Until then, Sundays will have to do.

Last Sunday, we decided to test Peatuk's new bike seat on a longer ride. We were originally going to go to Etera- the classic little water village/museum at the end of town. However, in the morning, I found this interesting looking house for sale in a village about 11 km away from our current apartment:

It is a bit beyond our budget, but architecturally, it is quite different than anything I have seen available in our area, and we were both enamored with the huge windows. We decided to ride up the mountain to see if we could magically find this house and see it in person. 

On the way up, I had to stop for several miniature breaks and push my bike up the steeper hills. I realized I have not been this bad at riding in several years. I also realized that without a lot of training, getting a house up in the mountain village, even if it is less than 10km away from the city, would not be doable with the anti-car lifestyle I have created for myself. Besides hauling my baby and groceries up and down the mountain multiple times a week, I could not imagine sending Peatuk down on his own to go to school 5 years from now.

Despite these realizations, I was having an amazing time. The exertion felt incredible. Spending time with Nikola and working towards a common goal felt great. Getting out of the city and taking advantage of the mountains we moved to felt great. I was quite happy.

By the time we got to the top of the mountain, Peatuk had had quite enough of his bike seat. Even though it was t-shirt weather down in the city, it was quite cold up on the mountain, especially with the sun tucked behind clouds. As we climbed, we realized snow was still on the ground, and spring would be coming to these last 5km later than it does in Gabrovo proper. 

We tucked Peatuk in for a snack and wandered the (rather dead) village to find our home. It was just as gorgeous as it was in the pictures but, perched precariously on the edge of a mountain, I realized that it would allow no room for a garden and no room for Peatuk to play. No, the house was not for us, and neither was the village. 

Still, coming down from our mini adventure, I felt a great sense of accomplishment and bonding with my family. After all, this is what life is really about. Making small achievements together. Creating memories. 

Someday, we will buy a house. Someday, we will have a successful business. Someday, we may even be able to take vacations and have grand adventures. Until then, these moments make the wait not only bearable, but incredibly sweet in its own right. 

Nemo: My Little Orange Lenovo

My macbook pro has been on the way out for about 3 years now. Sometime before I left for Peace Corps in 2010, its battery died (has it really been five years since I came to Bulgaria!?!), but it lasted through my service. About a month before I left Bulgaria, it decided to simply not start up. Luckily, with a thorough cleaning and some new fans it was able to keep running. I installed a fan booster and got an external cooling pad to help keep the temperature manageable. Then, in Turkey, I Frankensteined its power cable and had to do another deep cleaning of it. Its graphics card blew, and I replaced it. But a few weeks ago, when I noticed that it could barely run skype anymore, I decided it was finally time to get a new computer. My first new laptop ever (the macbook had been used).

I wavered between the ASUS Transformer flip book and the Lenovo Yoga 2. The ASUS was a bit more affordable and had greater potential for upgrades, but the Yoga was just a bit more sleek.

I often have a difficult time making decisions when it comes to large purchases, especially electronics, which I know very little about. My last two decisions for electronics were quite terrible, and so I was nervous about this one. I fear that I drove Nikola a little towards insanity with all of my back and forth and obsessive comparisons. When I read that ASUS considers their warranty void when you open the back cover to install the upgrades I would have made upon purchase, I decided to go with the Yoga. So far, I think it was a great choice.

I got the 13", Yoga 2. Not the pro, which is about 400 more dollars. (Although it was tempting, it was not something I really needed. I did get the version with 8GB RAM and a 128 SSD (I wanted 256, but they don't have a 256 in the basic model). It is a touch screen, convertible laptop/tablet. I somehow doubt that I will use it in tablet mode very often, but I have already found stand mode great for watching videos. It is my first full-HD screen, and the keyboard and casing is beautiful to touch. It is just so dang sleek :)

It already inspired me to start writing a bit more. I transferred my files from one of my novels into yWriter, which I have been eyeing ever since I considered switching to windows. I love it as a program. It breaks the book down into short scenes rather than chapters, which I might actually be able to work on if Peatuk ever decides he wants to take a nap again. (For the moment, he has decided that sleep is the most evil thing ever and he will never sleep again, and I am going rather ragged over it).

I also tried skype. I can actually run skype, have a conversation, and still check out other programs on my computer. So, you know, I can look something up while talking to someone! My old laptop had gotten so slow that I had no control over anything else if I was in skype. Or if a web page was loading. Or, whatever.

I also find that my work is a little bit faster, probably because I am so excited about the laptop and none of my keys on my keyboard stick in the least.

I had a difficult time treating myself to a large purchase ($1000 on my current income is quite a chunk of change), especially because Nikola's new laptop, which he codes on, was about $100 cheaper than mine. Does a writer really need a fancier toy than a programmer? Perhaps not, but I am ecstatic about it at the moment!

Ohhhh- and I got the little convertible blue tooth mouse that goes with the yogas. It is amazing. Very responsive and a pleasure to touch. AND- no cables for Peatuk to play with. Win! 

Life is Good

Occasionally, circumstances conspire to make me appreciate life just a little more. Recently, there have been a few deaths among my family and acquaintances. In the past, death has caused me to feel a range of emotions, but only recently has it made me feel fear. I suppose that I have never been so entwined with anyone as I am with Nikola and Peatuk, and the very thought that something could separate us as permanently as death is chilling. However, it makes me appreciate our lives for what they are now.

Yesterday, the weather was beautiful. Peatuk and I went to a park with our friends to play on the swings and slide. He loves the swings. He is a little freaked out by the slide, so he decided to just sit at the top and watch his friend go by. I am realizing the spring is creeping up, and I cannot wait for Peatuk to start walking, so we can spend many days in the playgrounds. Long walks, bike rides.... I see the potential for so much more mobility in our future.

As Peatuk grows, he is developing such as awesome personality. He is sweet. He loves to make people laugh. He is cautious of new things and occasionally cautious of new people. He is always curious though, and his curiosity wins out over his cautiousness. He still hates to sleep and basically goes-goes-goes until he is physically unable to continue. He is very social. He prefers people to toys, but he is getting curious about how the world works. Basically, he is awesome, and it is such a pleasure to be his mother.

The business is growing. Our designer is starting off great, learning a lot, and seems very motivated. Our junior developer also has quite a bit of motivation and talent. This month has been hard, because Nikola is working 12 hours a day, 6 days a week in order to pull in money while completing training. I also have been supporting the business with income from my writing. We hope that it will begin to pay off soon, but we know that it will be at least a year of really hard work until it is potentially stable. Still, there is so much possibility, and Nikola's clients seem very happy.

I love our apartment. We have all of the furniture that we wanted to buy for it, and it is very comfortable. I will be sad to leave it someday, but I will also be looking forward to owning our own home and having a garden sometime in the next couple of years. Tomatoes. That is my goal- 52 jars of beautiful sunshine-tomatoes. Then, maybe, bees, but we'll see about that.

We will be interviewing a potential babysitter sometime this weekend. Then, I will have a few hours to myself each week. I am thinking: running, cycling, and yoga. I am also thinking I might pick up the pen again and finally finish the book I have been working on. Unfortunately, the longer I live in Bulgaria, the less enthusiastic I become about my writing. I wonder if it from a lack of immersion in English or if it will return to me once I can dedicate some time to the craft. Ohhh... speaking of craft, I may actually get to finish some crochet projects. I think I would like to try my first sweater next fall, so I want to get a few smaller projects under my belt.

In other words- life is normal, and very, very good.