"Here piggy piggy"

Once upon a time there was a small and innocent pig. His name was Porcul and everytime we ate dinner, we left a little extra on our plates to give to him. He especially liked eggshells . In the summer he got our leftover corn, soup that wasn't eaten, stale bread, mamaliga left over. Porcul grew fat, so fat that he couldn't leave his pen. All he could do was eat and sleep, sleep and dream of when he would eat again. Summer browned to fall, leaves fell into winter and suddenly there was snow. Porcul continued to eat his due. Then one night he dreamt not of slop buckets and sarmale but a chilling nightmare that ended with him being chased by a knife. The next morning he awoke shivering. He quickly attributed these feelings to the cold and waited for his breakfast. Nothing came. They must have forgotten. Lunch. Again, nothing. Dinner, Not a thing. Two days later...Dec. 20th St. Ignot, he heard the hinges of his pen open. Finally something to eat. That was the last we saw of porcul alive.

Today I got a bag of pig skin from one of my students. You may think that it is gross, but it is a Romanian Christmas tradition to slaughter a pig for x-mas. Supposedly the pigs dream about their own slaughter. Every X-mas food is subsequently made from the slaughtered pig and believe you me they use every little bit (ears and tail included). It is an interesting tradition. Not very kosher, but all of Europe is obsessed by the pig in some way or another it seems. Other, more vegetarian traditions include caroling. The kids go to each of their teacher's houses caroling in exchange for money or candy. It is the Romanian version of trick or treating. I am going caroling on Thursday with my 11th graders. They have taught me a few Romanian carols which are quite beautiful. I, in exchange, taught them some X-mas songs and of course the driedel song. We had a competition of who had the most holiday songs. I lost of course. I gave it a good go though, but hey I am a jew remember.
The snow is glorious and up to my ankles. Yesterday I got into a fight with my 10th graders and they pushed me down and shoved snow into my face and down my shirt. It was a good time. I was asking for it. There also seems to be a tradition of boys throwing snow balls at random girls who walk down the street. Winter is a dangerous time for women. But under the proper tutorage of Aleca ( Vanda's daughter), I must SCOOP, ROLL, THROW, DUCK.. The problem is by the time I have scooped, everyone else has made it to the throwing. I promise, i will be a snow ball professional by the end of winter. I had my first fall though. Luckily it was 12 at night. I was walking home with Beth to my apartment. Chatting away, midsentence I took a spill and fell straight backwards onto my back. It didn't hurt, but it must have been hilarious because Beth couldn't stop laughing for 10minutes. Isn't winter wonderful!