cliff divers NO MAS

It is so exciting to see signs of progress, don’t you think? Any kind of forward movement, whether it be by leaps and bounds or just by half an inch, is something I welcome with undeniably open arms. Maybe sometimes you have to dig pretty deep to find it, but when you do see it, you should grab it and hold on tight. I’m not necessarily speaking of progress in terms of local infrastructure or construction, I am also speaking of progress in terms of yourself because I believe it's the hardest place to progress sometimes, at least for moi.

Recently I had a conversation with my friend Peter, you know, the lumberjack I do yoga with from the Arctic Circle, just about everyday things, and when we came upon the subject of requirements left for completing our classwork here at CEU, my first reaction surprised me—it was not the same scene as the previous semester, when upon mention of requirements and assignments and presentations my face would freeze into a very still position leaving my eyes glazing over and my mouth dropped open drooling in fear. No, no, while Peter and I were going over this TO-DO list about a mile long, I felt as cool as ever, John Travolta style. And I think my reaction rubbed off on him because Peter and I usually mutate into those awful frozen droids together, and this time when he looked at me waiting for the go-ahead signal to begin our panic-fest, Peter took a breath too, and there was no drool. SO COOL—progress!!

I know that previously we became addicted to this feeling of complete terror and didn’t even give ourselves time to step back and absorb things. It was like a race to see who could freak out first. That got to be pretty exhausting to tell you the truth and I missed being mistaken for a sane person. It is in this way of right away giving in that I think you just sort of cut out the credit or respect you should give yourself from the very beginning and don’t even allow the option of thinking of the other possible realities--that you CAN do it. “It’s too hard and it’s too much” are the only things that are allowed to run through your mind—what a defeatist attitude! YUCK Kate, grow a backbone. And in our case, Peter and I just jumped straight off the cliff without even thinking, plunging down, down, down into reaction, sort of like lemmings! The thought of being challenged to push harder was apparently too much for me. It is so funny looking back on me even just a couple months ago because I have changed my behavior so much even in that short time span. I was never such a weakling before when it came to challenges, I have always been a hard worker and very self-motivated but I think that by putting myself back in a situation which has not always been easy for me—in this case, school—I was in a little bit of shock that I had to put some effort in it, it didn’t come as naturally to me as other things, like sports for example where I can always find the extra effort. So maybe I was bound to feel a little vulnerable, but that shouldn’t give me free reign to start my blubbering session whenever I feel, right?

It feels SO good to have my mind under some kind of control, even at the tiny level I am speaking about here. And it’s on a daily basis—like a regular adult. HA. Now I AM allowing myself to see all the other options, the positive options—there are so many—and it makes a huge difference. That’s progress.

give it up for Africa.

This is my younger brother Michael. My family affectionately calls him Mikeypoo-poo. He loves that. Mike is about two years younger than me and he lives in Africa. He always tells me how different him and I are—he is so level-headed, calm, rational and mathematically minded, whereas I am directly his opposite—a 5’9” body of CHAOS! But really, I think we are very similar, he lives in Africa for crying out loud, so it’s not like we are oil and water—we just express ourselves in different ways. He is also THE most considerate person I know—he would give you the shirt off his back, that kind of thing, you know? He rarely has a bad attitude and this quality is infectious when around—I love spending time with him. He also was BFF with Mother Theresa and has the answer to global warming...HA, I'm kidding but that's what I'm making him sound like, huh? But really, my favorite thing about him though is his ENERGY. He absolutely exudes this genuine care for others and he is so refreshingly untainted. Don’t you love it when you are around someone and you can feel their energy, their personality, their vibe, whatever you want to call it? Just by thinking of them you get a goofy old clown grin on your face? Rare, but you know it when you feel it. LOOOOOOVE it.

Anyways, I am so proud of Mike now because he is doing something that initially scared the pants off of him--living outside his comfort zone. It is really exciting to get emails from him telling tales of Africa and the way he is dealing with the once so foreign circumstances and issues that are now a part of his daily life. However, prior to this experience, it was hard to relate to each other even though we grew up practically attached at the hip and share many of the same memories. As we grew up we naturally experienced the world in different ways and spent more and more time apart and this soon led to a veritable Grand Canyon between us in terms of the variance of our experiences. All of the sudden it was like he was speaking Chinese to me because we could not understand one another. But since his journey out into his own life in the recent months, experiencing things in his own unique way, we are able to understand one another again because it is our differences in experience (which once pulled us so far apart) that now pull us together. It is no longer just me telling of the lessons I have learned, but it is also him sharing times when he felt worn-down or lifted up. Africa is helping Mike discover things on his own and find his own way and we can relate once again. Gracias AFRICA :)

ps--someone is reading my blog in the HIMALAYAS--did you see that?!!

CONSTRUCTION

All of us are architects by nature—did you know that? We all want to relate to others, to empathize, to BUILD BRIDGES. Or as we all know it, make friendships. Maybe our reasoning behind creating ties with others is different from person to person but the bridge is still nonetheless built. I have bridges with a variety of people in my life—ranging from 2 year-olds to 91 year-olds, from jocks to scientists, from musicians to sculptors, from homeless to the very tip-top of the upper-class, from liberals to ultra conservatives. Somehow within each of these people I have found something similar to myself or to the person I want to continue to grow into. And together this person and I have “built a bridge” which both of us can cross and recross hopefully well into our lives.

But of course there are bridges that crumble or burn, when a friendship deteriorates or just plain fails. That is such an awful feeling and I have experienced a couple of those-- and each time it feels worse. I don’t know if it’s because I always go into friendships hoping for the best, hoping that this friendship will be one which I can always come to rely on but letting go is so hard for me when it comes to that—it is messy and complicated, not always so clean-cut and simple as it might seem to be.

Speaking of building bridges, you all will be happy to know that last night I successfully carried out one of the most sacred and time-honored traditions of being a female…GIRLS NIGHT!!! Would you expect anything less from moi?? YES oh YES, I hosted a girls night at my apartment here in Budapest, international style. So many were represented—Hungary, the US, Bulgaria, Romania, Latvia…and Mary-Kay and Bobbi Brown OF COURSE!!! But by now, if you are absorbing anything from this silly blog you know that I am one who enjoys relating to people in general and I am so thankful for those I have met while in Budapest, and on this night, LAS MUJERES. The women in my program are some of the most powerfully intelligent, aware, and motivated PEOPLE I have ever come across. Their recognition is deserved—and what better way to do so than sitting together in a circle, serenaded by none other than Shakira, surrounded by mounds of chocolate, cakes, and other finger foods with wine and emotions flowing??!...I can feel my brothers backing away from their computer screens right now.

This version of girls night definitely had a more academic feel than any I have previously been a part of, but I think that it is SO interesting as well as important to bring the variety of those who you care about together—whether it be a girls night in Eastern Europe or not, building those bridges is essential.

Please go begin construction.

s-u-n-s-h-i-n-e

It is always around this time of year in late February, that I start to make deals to sell my soul in order to see the sun for longer than 5 hours at a time. However, the deal-making is done for this year because SPRING IS HERE!!! Today there was no other word but MARVELOUS to describe the weather in Budapest. The sun was shining like it just won an Oscar by 7:30 this morning. It was like I woke up with a spotlight on full blast prying my eyelids open—just the thing I had been hoping for.

Upon peeling myself out of bed and observing the sights below my window, I did next what came naturally—I zipped up my boots, took out my spring jacket and headed off to all of my favorite cafes to spend the day reading, eating and smiling away. I spent the entire day café hopping. IT WAS GREAT. I probably consumed 7 times the amount of liquids that constitutes a balanced bodily intake, but today I did not hold back. It was only when I went to pay for the first of my 19 beverages of the day that I realized I had 4 different currencies in my pocket. I went to sit back down and took out my laptop only to find a message in my inbox from one of my best friends—who is Colombian—and another few messages being from a South African, a Swede and a Greek. I then opened up my notes from class the previous day and got to thinking about my professors being of German, Hungarian, Bulgarian, and Swiss backgrounds.

WHAT HAPPENED TO ME? I remember like it was yesterday, that I was taking a vacation with my family to Vancouver, BC and when it came time to cross the mystical, magical border beyond the US, I had to practically be tied down and sedated because of the excitement of my very first experience visiting another country—and just the English-speaking one that touches our northern border. Looking back, I also remember making weekend trips to St. Paul with these butterflies in my stomach because of getting to go to the capital of my state. And I also remember oooooohhhing and ahhhhhhhing at the novelty of the mysterious foreign exchange student in high school. I don’t think I actually knew a foreign person until I was about 16. Oh how the tables have turned…Now instead of having to be tied down when crossing borders, I have to be woken up to show passports and travel documents, my weekend trips consist of impromptu treks to Austria or Croatia, and now it is ME who is the foreigner—discussing with my Polish roommate his reasoning behind why it is necessary that he blasts his music at 5 in the morning. And I’m only oooooohed and aaahhhhed at if I actually tell people to oooooh and aaaahhhh.

It’s funny the person I grew into since I was at one point so sure of living my whole life in my hometown. Now I don’t know if I will ever live there again. I sure miss it some days and especially the great people there, but I know in my mind and heart that is not the place for me. But the point of this blog is not to showcase my traveling ability or name drop all the foreign friends I have or places I have been—the point is that I am doing what I once thought was so very far out of my reach--figuratively and literally. Prior to my initial abroad experience I had closed the door on a life outside of Minnesota—my comfort zone—as well as on alot of other dreams and intrigues I had because they weren’t of the norm, conventional or practical. And that made me hesitant—the thought of being myself! Yuck, I hate that I let others dictate how I felt about my own life. But somehow by taking that very small, very chaperoned first step of exploring Vancouver, it was as if the flood gates opened. Once I had been exposed, I found I had the ability to keep going by myself. And although getting past what others think of you is a huge obstacle, it is SO satisfying when you are on the other side doing what it is you had previously ruled very undoable.

For me it is living a life like the one I am now and being the person that I am growing into which makes me most happy. This will most likely change as the years go on—I will want different things as life continues, but for now I am happy. And to think it all began just by going 20 miles north of the border.

ROLE PLAY

The other day I made my first trip to the baths that Budapest is so famous for. I went with a girlfriend of mine, that is after she twisted my arm and tore me away from the love of my life right now—microeconomics. HA, yeah right. What an awful lover micro is! Same affair day after day, no change, just forces me to sit in a chair and open my notes in order to strain every neuron in my brain that hasn’t given up on me and succumbed to thoughts of silliness and fun, over analyzing curves of isocosts and isoquants. Maybe this is a little too personal to be sharing, but what the heck…to tell you the truth, micro and I have no chemistry! NONE. At all. I preferred its cousin—macroeconomics :)

So going on, I went to these baths with my friend and indulged my jaw-droppingly pale self in steaming saunas, swimming pools and massages for half a day. What a heaven that was—if you come over, I’ll take you but I swear you’ll never want to leave. And as the day wore on, my friend and I tried a variety of relaxation techniques, finally settling--bellies up--in the swimming pool with a ceiling opening up to a beautiful blue Hungarian sky. We talked about a variety of topics, but the one that struck me the most was the following. We had come on to the subject of men (surprise, surprise) and the varying “relationship systems” and she was telling me about her boyfriend waiting for her back home, east of Hungary. He is the love of her life but something she said struck me as very odd and actually to be honest, sad—she told me of how while he loves her, he doesn’t respect what she is doing in her life, getting an education, I mean, and trying to better herself. My friend has been told that her place is and will always be in the home, caring for her family and soon-to-be husband, never speaking up, never challenging the very concrete gender roles. AND on top of all that, she has known for a large part of her life who exactly it is that she would marry and take those steps with. Everything in her life was leading up to...her marriage.

Since being in a different culture I have adopted to coming across varying values and principles, but this hit me that day in a way I was not prepared for. I cannot imagine being constrained (in my eyes at least) like that. I think I would keel over and die. But what she said next hit me at an even different angle...after the completion of her degree at CEU, she was ready and willing to go back and step into that life with him. Where she comes from, you do not rock the boat. You put on the cloak you are meant to wear and ask no questions as to how it was tailored or why it is that particular color. There are proper steps in life and the one she is taking now was not easily, if at all, accepted by her culture.

By the end of this conversation with her, while I had come to realize how very different values in this world are from place to place, I was in a sweating panic for her. The culture I am accustomed to places value on independence, individualism, and self-creation. I have been taught that life isn't a procession up the aisle to marriage, but a path of constant change and discovery. But she was not upset with the role she would soon take on—one of self-containment and complete obediation and dedication—she was in fact very calm and peaceful throughout our talk. It left me however, very tangled up inside and confused as to how to feel. Should I be upset that she was not choosing a life more like mine? Or should I be upset that her culture, in my eyes, locks her down and disregards her own wants? How can you possibly tell someone how to live their own life just because yours is different? And especially when they are okay with their path?

I don't think you can.

sorta like stilts??

Do you have a support system in your life?

Most likely you do even if you have to dig a little to find it. Since being in Budapest it has come to my attention that I have one of the largest on the face of this planet—HOW GREAT IS THAT? And I know that you who are reading this blog do as well—there are ALWAYS people rooting for you on the sidelines with pom-poms and pleated skirts and letter sweaters, the whole works, whether you know it or not. You don’t have to be on the other side of the world or going through trying times to have one, you can have one in any (and hopefully ALL) stages of your life. It’s important. I can feel the support I have even in my choice of yogurt in the morning. I hope you never feel like you are alone in life. Ever. While you may not necessarily see your support everyday or come into contact with them, I have found that they are ALWAYS there, they just have a life to live too. DUH KATE. But isn’t that such a great feeling—opening up your email after a draining day and finding a carefully written letter from a close friend or seeing a missed call from your family on your cell? Those are some of my favorite things about being away from home—feeling the presence of those who are physically far, far away.

Check out this view--can you believe that this is a part of our world??? SO UNREAL. It's Greece, by the way...

pour toi

showing a little love from Budapest

XOXOOXOXOXOOX

Welcome to reality...?

Too much caffeine, sugar and internet time coupled with not enough sleep, sunlight and exercise turned me into an absolute crazy woman over the course of last week. The balance was definitely OFF. I decided there was so clearly only one logical solution to get the Kate whom I am in love with back…flee the country. You know when your reality gets a little skewed and you just can’t focus clearly and you feel all blaaaahhhh? That’s how I was feeling and so a friend and I did a weekend in Belgrade, Serbia—yeah, I am still trying to wrap my brain around that—to fight back into the “healthy” reality and rescue our real selves back. You might be thinking “Good idea Kate, go to a torn-up country dealing with ethnic and religious conflicts to make you feel the warm tinglies again”, but sometimes a weekend completely separate from the reality you live everyday is the best medicine. I often find myself needing time to process information, emotions, scenarios, and thoughts after an intense time frame. Serbia let me do that and I am back in Budapest with more thanks than I can remember in a long, long time.

My reality here in Europe is different from that of back in the U.S. and my reality here in Budapest is so different from the one I encountered this weekend in Serbia. The closest I had ever gotten to Serbia before this trip had been through “60 Minutes” specials or the 6 o’clock world news so I had a rough idea of what to expect my eyes to see, but no idea whatsoever of how I would feel. I live in a world of want usually, being able to save up money not with the aim of purchasing essential necessities like food or clothing but for buying fun things like an i-pod or laptop. The world I felt though while traveling in Serbia was one of need—of industry, of money, of color, or opportunity, of up-keep, of so many other things I usually don’t have to think twice about. Talk about surreal. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what a permanent life there would be like and I have met so many people who come from such a place and they have so much drive and motivation and most of all, hope. That was the kicker for me—I felt sort of hopeless while in Belgrade because there was so much that needed to be done to improve the lives of those living there, at least in my eyes. But then again, if you have known nothing other than what you have lived for your entire life, I can see how in this example, a pattern of living for survival or to just barely reach the minimum threshold is all that makes sense sometimes. It was so hard for me to not think of how thankful I was that I would be leaving by the end of the weekend, that this wasn’t my permanent place.

I have something like a huge safety net while here in Eastern Europe—the fact that I am an American. If I don’t enjoy something or find something uncomfortable, it is easy and comforting to be honest, to know that there is an end, that I can retreat to a comfort I know will be there waiting for me in May. It is strange to know that while I can challenge myself for a specific period of time and then give things the “off” switch and head home to a home where I live in a luxury that now seems sort of absurd, it is also frustrating to me because so many others do not have this option. There is no “off” switch. The other day Wojtek (one of my roommates if you didn't remember) and I were at the grocery store and an awful Neil Diamond song came on over the loud-speaker. Right away Wojtek asked me what it is like to go basically to any place in the world and know that your language will be spoken, essentially that you can find a comfort in something wherever you go. I didn’t know how to respond. I haven’t ever known his reality. It is so different from mine—I can wave my navy blue passport in the air and fly away to anywhere on the globe to reach a hotel where I will hear instructions about how to get into my room in English, while he often has to take months to work out travel documents and plans and he rarely hears Polish being spoken outside his country. It is so hard to imagine this difficulty. I don’t know if I will ever be able to, but I hope that thought remains in my mind for quite a while to come.