Recap & Homeward Bound

So, this is it. My last night in the Hippo Hostel, in Budva, in Montenegro, in the Balkans. I am heading off to known and unknown elements back at home in the San Francisco Bay Area again in less than 5 hours. Sigh.

Before I get too much into thanking all those people who played any role in my many mind-boggling memories of this place from the past 6+ months, and then rehashing some of those memories in quick-witted fashion, I should say that I'm going back to the Bay, and hopefully finding a nice, new apartment in Oakland again, near the lake (anyone know of any good vacancies?) because I didn't manage to find an impressive new job in public radio anywhere else in the country that would necessitate my relocating out of the Bay Area so that I can practice the occupation that I have loved for almost 10 years now. So, sigh, again. I'm going back to my favorite city in the world, where the largest concentration of loved ones in my life reside, where all my favorite places and things are, and where my beloved is waiting for me to not have a long-distance relationship with him anymore. I'm not that bummed about going back, thus.

But, it's been quite an odyssey here these past several months. It's hard to be leaving this place that since April 5th, I've been calling Home, this beautiful, lively, hectic, scatter-brained, infuriating, wonderful place -- and that would be both the hostel AND the city of Budva. As far as life-changing, eye-opening, furiously intense, and adventurous chapters of a person's life, this ranks up there just under my 4 and a half years in college as the period of my "youth" that I'll think back to for the rest of my cognizant years on earth as a time when I met a world of wonderful people and things, and experienced the most in life. And, it all fit into a neat little window of half a year.

I'll remember a lot from this window: the places, the people, the sights, the conversations, the laughs, the torment, the mishaps, the food, the fun, the folly, the things I wrote about in this blog, the things I *didn't* write about, and everything in between. I think in Italian, the phrase mille locos, or something spelled similarly, translates to "a thousand crazies". Every last crazy of my mille locos these past 6+ months was worthwhile. From my early days here transitioning into this world, to my laid-up months with the back injury, to life in the trenches during the height of the heat, humidity, and water shortage of Budva, to the past month and a half when I've been able to double my number of red dots on the wall map I own of cities I've been to -- it was all worth it. All of it. That's right, I wouldn't have skipped this for anything in the world. Though, no, I also wouldn't do it again. Because I believe that the most life-affirming experiences we have, the ones that shape us with sledge hammers and not chisels, we can only have once, and must then move on to the next one. It's true, my therapist told me.

So, to recap: Martina is leaving the building. In just a few short hours. I'm traveling to London, New York, and Orange County for the next 2 weeks. I'll be back "home" the night of Thursday, October 25th. Everyone residing in the San Francisco Bay Area, I'll be expecting a massive ticker tape parade down Market Street that weekend. Thanks. And, I'll see you all soon, wherever you are.

Reports from the Field II: Heating Up

During happier, more active times, before I became a bed-ridden internetolic with her own blog, I was sending emails home to my peeps, giving them the scoop on all the haps here in Budva. Let's go back to said happier times, now shall we? Just so I can remember how fun it was when I was still vertical...


D A T E L I N E : 18 May 2007; Budva, Montenegro

I don't know if it's the heat, or the general Montenegrin spirit of there's-still-time-I'll-get-it-done-later that's overtaken me, but
what I intended to write WEEKS ago has been sorely delayed. I swear, I began this 5 days ago! Actually, lots of things that I intend to do everyday aren't getting done in the time that I'm intending: studying Serbian, getting a haircut, planning my excursion to Italy, buying a beach towel that has an image of a 500 Euro bill on it, etc.

There's always some reason to put these things off for another day. It's hot, I can't be expected to move! It's hot, I need to go to the beach! It's hot, I need to hang out at the radio station! So, I'm not nearly as productive as my best intentions would lead me to believe.

In the past month, I've slowed down on the daytrips a lot more and have just settled nicely into a more common, day-to-day routine that involves the hostel, the beach, the radio station, and barbecues. Also, during that time, the Hippo saw it's share of bad luck: 11 days without a phone line or internet, 2 occasions when we lost our plumbing (one of which lasted 2 whole days!), 3 occasions of losing power suddenly in the evening (one of which occurred right when the movie "Hostel" was reaching it's annoying and long-awaited conclusion), and a 2-night stay by a group of 9 disrespectful, rowdy, young Slovenians who acted like they were on one of those party buses that frats like to rent and tear through the city in. We survived, though.

Now, the days are getting longer and (did I mention?) hotter. Which means that we're getting busier here with more guests in house. The body count for April was officially 83 in the end. And, so far for May, we have 56. (I've got Euro signs in my eyes.) My radio show, Ponta Planet, will now officially start airing the week of June 1. It'll be bi-weekly, though I don't yet know which days. Did I also mention that there's a Montenegrin attitude of there's-still-time-I'll-get-it-done-later? Some decisions don't get made until the last possible minute. In the meantime, though, I'm out recording content for future shows, and writing a script for the pilot for prospective new sponsors. Good times, playing radio producer in a country in which I don't speak the language!

And, there are obviously great days in the sun to be had as well. Last week, as I was walking from Budva to Sveti Stefan along all the different beaches and coves with an Aussie hostel guest of ours, Brad, I came upon a little grassy hut that overlooked some stone decks along the sea. There were people sitting around inside eating, and since the place *looked* kind of like a restaurant, we went inside to have a drink and ended up sitting down to an amazing lunch of grilled fish with the owner of the place, his brother, his mother, and his best friend. Zoff, said owner, a balding, mid-forties playboy fisherman who likes to sniff your hair and kiss your neck if you're not able to dodge him, only opens the restaurant to his friends, but will allow random tourists to lay on his private decks and sun themselves for a small fee. Since he seemed to like me and Brad, and I liked his grilled eggplant and how fresh the blue fish was, we came back the next day and spent more than 6 hours with him and his friends going out on his fishing boat, eating, sunning ourselves on the deck, and learning how to de-scale the catch of the day. I took to calling Zoff's mother "Mama", because I didn't know her name. His brother, Dragan, drove us home at the end of the day. And, now, everybody's mobile number is in my phone. And, all I wanted was to be in at the restaurant and to make sure I could use the decks free of charge.

Done and done!

Also, the first weekend of May was Budva's annual carnivale. Everyone at the hostel went out for 2 nights of partying in the Old Town that Friday and Saturday. There were parades, baton-twirling dance troupes who did routines to "Holding Out for a Hero" and the ever-popular 80's soundtrack hit "Maniac", and live music on a huge stage erected outside the Old Town walls. I discovered that I like a Macedonian pop singer, Toše Proeski, despite his following of screaming 14-year olds. And, now, I can honestly say that I've seen a re-enactment of the biblical story of the great flood while standing in actual pouring rain. That's of course not to be outdone by the fact that I then danced under fireworks with a firetruck hose pointing to the sky over us making it rain even harder than God intended. The only thing missing that weekend was an organized wet tee shirt contest.

All told, the slowing down to a day-to-day routine isn't at all bad!