Crazy Botch

Crazy Botch was the only girlfriend I had from the university (yeah, you know what follows). She was studying  Arabic or something of the sort. We met on an excursion to Greece organized from the university where Crazy Botch started exchanging glances with me. It later turned out that she only did so after consulting with her female friend that found me quite charming (so modest, I know).

Her father worked “security” and for those of you which don’t know what this means in Bulgaria, it means pretty much the same as archaeology – something very shady. I was even warned that I shouldn’t tell anyone about her father’s meeting with the other people from his “security” firm. Anyway, I’m not here to write about that, Crazy Botch was a handful in itself.

I was very motivated to have a proper relationship with Crazy Botch for some altruistic reason but with time I started to feel that something about her was a little bit off. She would often fall into fits of rage because I’ve made some stupid (but obvious) joke but even more often for no reason at all (sounds familiar?). There was this time when we went to the mall to have a snack or something and I tried to kiss her – she pushed me back and the second time I tried to get closer for a kiss she said “fuck off”, got really angry and made to leave. I was said to see her go for the softhearted jello I was and just stood there wondering. I was at the same place when she got back and said, “Let’s go”. Just before we got to her place she said “Please don’t tell Mommy and Daddy that I acted this way, and acted as if nothing had happened for the rest of the evening.

The was some kinky stuff with her and at times,  she even seemed to like it and yet there seemed to be times where she seemed to be disgusted with it. I think the strangest thing was when I found that she had put me on speaker while we were talking on the phone. I think she was trying to prove to her parents how disgusting and perverted I was. I think she kind of got off from it. I’ve heard her speak similar stuff about her best friend (yeah, the one who originally “liked me”) with whom she has been for most of her life.

The difference between her behaviour when we were alone and when she was with her parents (also the fact that she was constantly comparig herself with other people while doing nothing{a.k.a the best way to never be wrong}) led me to the conclusion that I should get out as fast as possible, so one morning when she made a very nasty remark while we were lying in bed in the apartment of her parents I decided that I can’t and shouldn’t take it anymore, put on my clothes and left in a hurry. I could tell just from the look in her mother’s eyes that she was very offended by the way that I was leaving.

I didn’t want to answer her calls from that moring on but she didn’t seem to get the hint. First there were the dissapointed texts, then the apologetic ones. In the end there were the threaths and “what would happen if she had contracted some STD from me”. I think she was under the impression that I was so much in love with hear that I wouldn’t pick up the phone in fear of her breaking up with me (don’t look at me, that’s just the general impression I got from that person, to be clear – a very deep narcissim).

I saw her friend a couple of times in the university after that and she seemed to have a strengthened interest in me. I think Crazy Botch told her of the kinky stuff “I made her” do and and she found them to her liking. It’s sad that at that time I already considered them as one organism. She tried to approach me a couple of times but I played the dead  squirrell until I didn’t see them anymore.

The Meeting

I wrote to Mira Mayer, the dean of the MA program at the New Bulgarian University explaining my “situation”. I wasn’t sure she’ll respond and what the consequences might be so my first e-mail was anonymous. She responded that she can’t do anything about my complaint if I don’t use my “real identity” probably to make sure that I was indeed a student at the university. I responded with a second e-mail fully explaining what my deal was and she answered that I can meet with her at her office.

I went to the university and scheduled a meeting with her in two weeks after that day. The whole scheduling part was awkward because the male secretary asked me what was the purpose of my meeting and I replied “Abuse of a student by a teacher from the university”. My answer was not thought over and yet it conveyed perfectly what I’ve experienced. “And this student, is it you?”, he asked. “Yes”, I replied.

The meeting seemed like a long time from that day so I thought a lot about what I was going to say. Should I include every unprofessionalism that my teachers have made during my 5 years at the university or should I settle for the most appalling ones? Some of them were so absurd in their making I doubted she would even believe me. I think I settled for the middle – I skipped most of the horrid ones but kept enough to let her know (or so I thought) that the situation was serious. She had a small ledger to take notes as I explained my complaint in more detail. I mentioned names of students and teachers but she didn’t seem to be writing any of the teacher’s names. Yet, she seemed to believe and be truly disturbed by at least some of my stories. She kept asking me these questions about my current engagement with the university, “whether I was a regular student at the university, have I paid my last tax for the semester”, and so forth. I’m not sure if she wasn’t checking to see if I was her concern at all. “And now you don’t have a supervisor or your theme written?”, she asked like everything that I’ve told her about my negativity filled experience at the university was not a big deal. “I don’t want to graduate”, I said. “So, what do you want me to do?!”, and I said “I haven’t yet given up on the university but I want to be done with my current MA, also I want my money back so I can start a new MA that’s not so horrible”. She replied that it wasn’t in the university’s policy to give money back but she’ll “do something” and she’ll call me, “you did leave your number right?”. She already had my e-mail and we’ve been keeping a correspondence, so I thought it very weird.

At the end, I didn’t ask for my money because I really believed that I was going to get them back, I just wanted her to understand how serious these things were for me.

It’s been three months and she still hasn’t called.

P.S. It would be ironic for a person who has written about racism, The Holocaust and the like, let her students be oppressed.

Maybe it’s just me.

Atilla

I read the beginning of a book about Atilla a while ago. It said that medieval authors viewed him as bloodthirsty and  gruesome just because they wanted to downscale greatness of his achievements.

When I imply that some of my teachers at the New Bulgarian University were hypocritical and so forth it comes pretty close to cyber bullying, but I’m not doing this because I want to downscale their academic achievement, surely there must have been some. I’m doing this because a lot of students have been hurt because of the policy that the people at the department of archeology at the New Bulgarian University keep. There have been secret meetings determining which student should go to wich “prestigious” archeologic site, teachers trying to play footsie under the table (literally) with students from the female gender without their consent, taking one student’s work and giving it to another to present, of course without the consent of the former, straightforward abuse of (and snapping at) students, giving special privileges to students, unprofessional teaching and working behaviour, the list goes on and on.Thanks to their mob mentality and

Thanks to their mob mentality and groupthink (or maybe a complete lack of shame?) the teachers, of course, remained completely oblivious to their student’s problems and needs. It’s not that bad if it’s not happening to me, right?

What I’m trying to say is that there should be a radical change in the department of archaeology at the New Bulgarian University, or otherwise, students will continue to use it as a platform for enlisting to other programs. The few that don’t use it as such will drop out some midterm, either to visit a mental institution, try purchasing a firearm, or go hang from a bridge somewhere.

Until that change happens the department of archaeology at the New Bulgarian University will remain the place most similar to the Aokigahara forest in Japan.

Hey, dudes and dudets

Hey, this is my first post in WordPress and I just wanted to anounce myself to all the people using this site. My name is Martin and I’m currently 27 years old. I live in Bulgaria which is a very small country in the asshole of the world, which can have its’ pros and cons. I’ve studied archaeology in the New Bulgarian University for some five or six years and I just want to share my thought on the state of education in my country and particulary in the above mentioned university. There were good and bad things about it, but in the end I think the bad outweighed the good, so I my next few posts will be about some things that quite disturbed me in the place that I study and after that may be I’ll share some nice things about my life and hopefully pleasant events that will continue to happen in the future.

That’s all from me for now, I hope you find my posts interesting to read.

Take care