Early morning: Gyovren is a fog-enshrouded time warp. The only people I see on my morning walk are babas leading their cow to pasture or hauling hay in baskets on their backs. The sun breaks over the town as I reach the top of the hill. Some things are eerily familiar. The white gravel roads are exactly like our long drive way in Fort Gibson. The smell of chopped cedar whisks me away to memories of camping in Robbers Cave. And then I hear the call to prayer.
Mid-morning: I have my language lesson in the calamine lotion-pink, one-room library. They recently received a computer from the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation and I will be helping to keep the library open more often so people can have access to the internet. Afterwards I head down the hill to a cafe where women with small children gather daily. I chat with the women and occasionally play a game of backgammon with the men at the other table.
Lunch: I have lunch at my house--actually, it's the third floor of Sali and Zeynep's home. Sali is a construction worker at a nearby town where they are building a new mosque. When I turn the corner, I almost always see Zeynep near the front door, chopping wood. With perfect temperatures, no humidity, and a gentle breeze, only the constant preparation of fuel for winter reminds me that cold weather approaches quickly here.
Afternoon: After some time spent studying Bulgarian I like to get back outside. There are plenty of trails to hike or I can join Zeynep in weeding the potato field. Perhaps I can play volleyball with the pack of 4th-8th grade girls who roam the town. Or maybe I will "na gosti." Visit, is how this phrase is usually translated, but it only vaguely resembles the American sense of dropping by for a chat. "Na gosti" means stopping by a person's home, usually without any advance notice, and being served food and drinks for at least two hours.
Evening: I'm usually found at the school grounds where women with children congregate, or at a cafe with a terrace that gives a beautiful view of the sunset. At the cafe I sit with girls who are in high school or university in other towns and are only in the village in the summer. All of them have had English classes throughout their schooling and are excited to try out phrases with me. When I return home, Sali and Zeynep are starting their very late dinner and they always send me upstairs with a plate of something to eat the next day.
