What a beautifully simplistic concept for a photo story.

Communication in my job.

CIS Region: Central Asia. These are my people. They spent long hours studying correct article usage and past participles. Not that I did, but I recognize how hard they work. I read their essays. I know in what ways they think an AUBG education will broaden their global perspective and cultivate their capacity for social responsibility. They glimpse my eccentric hipster tendencies, when I add them on facebook, to develop a deeper more comprehensive connection with them. We are both savvy inhabitants of the information age, I am saying. "Hey! How is your application coming :)" I ask. I try to maintain the median of coherence in our present web lexicon. I have not yet stooped the to LOLs, but do throw in the occasional emoticon. This helps to keep a light tone when the topic dives into uncomfortable waters, like the inadequacies of their financial situation."Have you thought about taking out a loan? :$ :$ ". And on it goes.

When I speak to them though, I dont have the luxury of using colloquial adjectives like Dope and Sick and Hella, lest they think the tree is unintelligent or the cat is actually feeling unwell. I speak like a Teacher. I dont drop the G's in my gerunds or let my "no"s fall to "nah"s. I prop my speech up, with the candor of enunciation. The helpfulness spews out of me. Most of my sentences beging with "well" or "actually". "Actually, we the university dont actually issue you the visa. The country of Bulgaria has to do that." I try not to feel like a paper pushing bureaucrat, but sometimes I do.

They make grammar mistakes and cultural hijinks take place and occasionally these are very funny, but I do not laugh at them. Or at least not to their face. That would be insensitive and counter-productive. I am genteel and direct, the Wal Mart greeter of the University. There are so many factors beyond my control, that they will base their decision on. I just smile, push them in the right direction and give them a sticker.

When they find a better school, that has better programs or is giving them more money, I wish them well in their future endeavors and try not to feel a twinge of sadness at the loss. When they confirm, I do my best to squelch the blossom of pride I feel and stay professional.

When they get here they will have issues, just as I did, in assimilating. They will be different issues, but issues all the same. Issues of the innocent 17 year old. Our uniting strand, that we are the youthful denizens of Bulgaria, outsiders at home, however temporary it may be.

After lunch I returned to my cubicle and around 1:30 decided to indulge in a cup of coffee. Coffee being a increasingly infrequent for me, due to my mixed reactions to anything more than a half a diluted cup of green tea.  By a couple sips in I knew it was a bad idea, but I was already in it, deeply committed. My thoughts we racing and I felt euphoric and ready to WWF (the fake wrestling group not the environmentalist group) body slam someone. After finishing the espresso shot I did the next best thing, which was to make some phone calls. Reading through my list of students who had not yet submitted all of their application documents, I found one missing Financial Aid papers. I tried her cell phone but it was non-operative, so I decided to try her home phone. I should bare to mention that calling home phones is something I have always strayed away from due to the fact that very few of my applicants families (I presume) speak English. So after a couple rings a woman answered in what sounded like something close to an English hello. At least it didnt sound ridiculous like the Bulgarian (awwo?) hello. I introduced myself in English and before I was finished I heard the click of being hung up upon. "No, you may not speak to ------" said my co-worker snarkily. In my revved-up state I was undeterred like a Harley barreling towards a tornado. So I called again this time and I had to wait a little longer. When the woman picked up, I put on the Russianest voice I had in my memory banks and asked her in the few Russian words I know, if I could talk to her daughter. She started talking back to me and that was when I realized I had no exit plan for this situation. I had thought I would ask to speak to her daughter and she would obligingly acquiesce, without using any of her own words. But the words they were flying at me. I stumbled, synapses firing. Not wanting to ruin the integrity of my foreign language conversation, I began haltingly speaking in Bulgarian while racking my brain for non-vulgar Russian words to throw in the mix. That way I would be able to at least pretend to my coworkers. Just an actively bi-lingual guy like the rest of you. Aint no thing. But they had already started with the commentary on the my precocious attempt at speaking not-english. "Da... Nyet.... Amerikanski Universitet.... Ako mozhete da pricham with your daughter." She didn't understand me, so I figured it would be ruder of me to stay on the line than hang up, so I quickly said my Dosvidnye's and tore the phone from my ear. My face was flushed with embarrassment and concentration. I sat through a couple minutes of patronizing compliments about my accent and then the din subsided to the pitter/patter sound of uncalloused fingers hitting keyboard. Know your limits and remember it's refreshing to feel uncomfortable sometimes, the audience usually forgets about your embarrassment 10 minutes later anyways. Thats what I learned today. One of those three-fold morals... I mean... Not to get too preachy. 

Emotional vocab

It’s a shame emotions are all inherantly attached to cliches. The reason for this, is that we all feel them and all have described them over and over again. Our brains are rattling full of bunches of words illustrating them, so its hard for us to really be present when experiencing them. We cant live in an isolated, vacuum away from the incessant din. We also can’t truly encapsulate something as abstract and complex as love or envy in a word.

Its frustrating but only when I’m tired and I don’t want to have to try, because it also puts the hunger in my belly for the words. 

It's quite amazing how easily our bodies can cure maladies by using the most basic of health regimes. One technique that is used in Japan requires a person to drink 1260 milliliters of water (less than a liter and a half) before consuming anything or brushing their teeth. The person should then wait 45 minutes before eating breakfast. The article states that using this regime over an extended period of time has cured Diabetes, Pulmonary Tuberculosis and even Cancer. Perhaps these are isolated cases with a few more factors at work than the article gives credit for (it gives the credit solely to water therapy), nonetheless it's amazing to think that just a little planning every morning could save a person hundreds of dollars in medication per month.

It does cause you to pee a lot though... On second thought, I'll get a large coffee and a Bacon, Egg and Cheese Mac'Muffin. Yeah, and throw one of those hash browns up in the mix.

In the beginning...

To start out I would like to explain just a little about this project, The Corporate Vagabond Blog. The name Corporate Vagabond (or CVB as I have begun endearingly calling it in the past 30 seconds that it has been in operation), speaks to the nature of my current work as an Admissions Counselor and Recruitment Coordinator for the American University in Bulgaria. In this job I am half stoop-backed, paper shuffling bureaucrat and half bright-eyed, slick haired traveling salesman. Which in my interpretation means I am Corporate (I work for a non-profit educational institution) and am a vagabond (with a home and a job), because I prefer vagabonds over traveling salesmen. They always have vivid hyperbolic stories to tell, as will I.

As an afterthought I googled the name of this blog and found similar titles, but in spite of my wounded creative pride decided to keep it, because I think it is catchy and captures what I hope will be its essence.

Which brings me to the point of this Blog. I have been searching for a way to discipline myself to write more and in a more structure manner, to keep my scribe muscle lithe and limber. A friend suggested a blog about travel. This would work however I do not travel frequently enough to write as extensively as I would like. I have previously tried to write a blog about my own personal philosophies, but that was very short-lived as I have only a few. Instead this blog should capture something bigger than just myself, my opinions and the things I do. That would be great! But Im not sure what's left. This noble goal will probably fail and I will write the usual self-congratulatory musings that are found in other blogs. I will probably mix it up with some current politics, culture, music, experience, comings, goings, happiness, sadness, death, destruction, life and rebirth. But first, let me begin.