Bela Lugosi's Dead

So I taught my first class at The University of Craiova on Tuesday. Contemporary American and British Theatre. Out of the 37 students signed up, only 8 attended. It’s a continuing problem at Romanian universities, and this year new rules were implemented that require students to attend at least 75% of their classes. I handed out the syllabus, and the students seemed shocked that I will be giving 8 pop quizzes with no chance for make-ups. They told me that students must work outside jobs, and one girl told me that she is also signed up for a math class at the same time our class meets!
In addition the Theatre class, I'll be holding active office hours for students and faculty who want to practice their English, re-sorting and shelving the English/American library, and in the process of developing a discussion forum/movie night at the American Corner; our first meeting is in four days. My Romanian language classes start Monday. I'm waiting to meet the head of the Theatre department here; I've offered to give acting workshops and teach a weekly yoga class (one grad student blushed recently when I mentioned yoga. She said it was “exotic”). And, besides agreeing to teach workshops in Timisoara and Bucharest, I've been asked to give a speech at a "Language, Literature and Cultural Policies" forum here in November.
So last night, I was cooking up these not-so-fine Betty Ice Bonanza frozen green beans with a side of rice, listening to Bauhaus on my laptop, hot water slowly trickling into the humongous, square, 3-foot deep bathtub that takes an hour to fill, and it finally hit me: I'm in Romania! For nine months! And I feel fine...