09 Aug

I’m on the brink of tears, looking up at the hilltop town of Orvieto. The sun is hanging above the honey-colored houses. A large church juts up from the old center. And I’m in a medical parking lot in the valley below. 

I had driven 45 minutes to get here—my first time driving our stick-shift car alone, in Italy. I had traversed steep hills, downshifting and upshifting. I had gotten in and out of 5th gear and avoided the tiny Fiats whizzing past me on the highway. I had even figured out how to pay the tolls, and how to take off from a toll booth located on a slant, with the dreaded e-brake start. 

06 Aug

Admittedly, I had never heard of Italy’s Patron Saint Francis until a few days ago. 

The reason millions of pilgrims visit Assisi each year, Francis was the founder of the Franciscan Order, and a man who inspired thousands of followers to live a life of poverty, based on Jesus’s teachings. When he died in 1226, Pope Gregory IX quickly canonized him; and soon after, the Basilica of St. Francis (seen in the picture above) was erected in his honor. 

31 Jul

Since our arrival to Umbria, my husband has lovingly nicknamed me “The Mosquito Killer.” 

Armed with a spray bottle of vinegar in one hand and repellent in the other, I tip-toe around the apartment each night before bed. Eyes squinted, nose scrunched, I stare up at the ceilings. Could they be hiding in the 200-year-old tree trunk support beams? Are they perched in the crevices of the stone walls?

26 Jul

It's been two years since I've posted here. Two years of covid lockdowns, online teaching, then in-person teaching (in masks, 6-feet apart with windows open), then more online teaching. Sunday PCR and antigen tests, close contact quarantine protocols, and learning how to get over the crippling anxiety once pandemic restrictions were lifted.

This is just an account of what the last two years were like as a teacher (and why I've decided to take a sabbatical).

09 Aug

Most years, come August, I'm ready to go back to school. I've spent time with family and friends, caught up with hometown gossip, hugged my niece a thousand times, and even squeezed in a road trip or two. This August, however, things are different. No trip back home, no face-to-face catch-ups, no hugs. And despite an amazing road trip through northern Greece, the idea of hopping back on Zoom to teach teenagers has my skin crawling.

30 Jul

As we approached the Bulgarian/Greek border crossing checkpoint, I pinched the wire around my nose and tightened the mask’s loops around my ears. The border security guard walked from car to car, collecting passports and motioning for people to park or to join the socially-distanced queue to get tested for COVID-19. 

Luke and I held our breath as we handed him our registration, Romanian IDs and passports, strategically placing my American identification at the bottom of the pile. He gave us both a stern look and had us park next to the station. 

07 May

Last week was supposed to be our spring break. Well, technically it was still our spring break, but we weren’t allowed to go anywhere, and our trip to Jordan was canceled. So, it was basically the same as every other week, minus the Zoom lessons. 

“See Petra” and “Camp in Wadi Rum desert” have been on my bucket list for a long time. And after last year’s spring break in Egypt, I was longing to return to that part of the world. To help quell the feelings of wanderlust and utter disappointment, Luke and I decided to recreate our trip at home. 

Here was our itinerary (which we fully intend to replicate later this year), and some extremely silly quarantine recreations. 

13 Apr

April 12, 2020

For the last month, I’ve been receiving emails from the US Embassy in Bucharest: health alerts, travel advisories, and increased warnings to return to the United States, unless I’m prepared to “remain abroad for an indefinite period.” Then, a few days ago, the inevitable came: Commercial flights to and from the U.S. have been suspended. 

It’s day 29 of social isolation, and I’m currently writing this from our office--the place I’ve turned into my journalism “classroom” for the last four weeks. The windows are open, the birds are chirping, and the warm sun is streaming in; though all I can focus on is the fact that someone in the neighborhood is playing La Bouche’s 1995 hit “Be my Lover.” Loudly. 

28 Mar

Friday, March 27th, 2020

Last night, my husband and I spent some time looking out the window. All around us, apartment buildings were full of light. Even the old, gray Communist block down the street--the one I assumed was condemned--had suddenly sprung to life. 

A man in his living room did squats. A woman folded laundry. We saw people cooking, eating. A couple danced in their kitchen. 

I thought back to a few months earlier when Luke and I were on an Alfred Hitchcock kick. We watched “Rear Window,” and the whole time I kept thinking, Why doesn’t anyone just close their blinds?

24 Mar

Tuesday, March 24th, 2020

It’s day 8 of distance learning, day 11 of social distancing. At first, people were jokingly referring to this as “Corona-cation.” It was sunny and warm, and the first day of online teaching began with pancakes and coffee on the balcony. I believe my husband and I even toasted to the “time off.” A few days later, we found a Coronavirus playlist on Spotify. We made Aperol Spritzes and listened to “It’s the End of the Word as We Know it” by R.E.M. 

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