Strem Talks

I was never actually aware of this when I was a child, but when I was a bit older after my grandfather passed away, I heard stories of my grampa finding pennies and saying they were pennies from heaven. I thought it was a cute little story and didn't think much of it at the time. As I got older, it became a strangely relevant presence in my life, but we'll get back to that.  First, a little backstory. My grampa was a hilariously interesting man. He was gruff, but he was also one of the sweetest men I knew when it came to his grandkids. I've heard stories of him being a bit hard, but my generation of the Strem family never really saw that side.  By the time we came, he was older and moved to Florida with my grandma Emily, so when he did see all of us he was just happy to be around the chaos (and trust me, it was a lot of chaos).  The other thing about my grampa was his name. When I was around 21 years old, I went and got a sunflower tattoo as a memory of this great man, an...

So I landed in Casablanca around 11:00 on Friday morning. After winding my way through customs I went to find my luggage. Having four bags, I tried to find a luggage cart and much to my dismay, I could not find one. I find one piece of luggage and am standing there waiting for the second one.  A bit off topic, but I have to mention the biggest pet peeve of someone who has been in and out of airports all week: Why in the hell does everyone have to stand RIGHT NEXT TO THE BELT?  Why do you pull your luggage off and place it RIGHT NEXT TO THE BELT? Do people realize they are not the only ones desperately searching for their luggage? If everyone stood back and placed their luggage back behind them, everyone would be able to get to the belt and get their luggage, but NOOOOOOO we all have to come first. Stupid human nature.  Anyways, I eventually find an abandoned cart and pack it with my luggage, only to find out why the cart is abandoned: it is broken. "Well, it's better than...

My sister and I were talking before I left the U.S. about how nervous I was for this opportunity because I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  If you've never heard this expression, it just means that bad things usually come in groups and one shoe will hit you and shortly after the other will come down and hit you again.  The reason I have lived by this statement for as long as I have is because I have been hit with an inordinate number of shoes in my lifetime.  After a week spent with my best friend from college and her two wonderful daughters, I was at the Atlanta airport ready to begin this crazy venture.  First shoe: I had to check all three bags because the man checking me in at the counter said it was too big and would not fit on the plane.  The bag designated to be my carry-on has all of tehe things that are most important: my diploma, my birth certificate, the binder where I put all of my teacher memories, my grandmother's pearls. Things that are a...

So, I am currently thinking about what it means to leave the continent. I am terrified and exhilerated and there are several other exclamations and expletives that fit my mood at this exact moment.  I should be in bed, resting before a very long, very harrowing journey.  However, I find myself incapable of sleep at the moment.  As I sit here, wondering about what the future holds, one thing has stood out to me about other people's reactions to my current adventure.  So many people are so enthralled with this idea that I am leaving my entire life to move to another country/continent to do something bold. Some talk about how jealous they are.  Many talk about how excited they are.  Most have the same general comment: "I don't think I could ever do that..." Which leads me to my next post and the most Stremiest-Talks style post I think I've written in a long time.   I've spent the last week with my best friend from college which means I went back in time r...

As most of you are (well) aware of at this point, the adventure was getting closer and closer.  With the impending deadline fast approaching, I started to get increasingly nervous.  I started to wonder if I had lost my absolute mind.  What if this is a terrible idea?  What if I hate it?  What if I sit in my apartment and never actually do...well...anything?  The doubt crept closer and closer, my emotions became more and more intense and I started to realize that it was actually going to happen.  I said goodbye to all the people I loved who I would be leaving behind. There were cards, and hugs, and joy, and laughter, and fun.  Yesterday, I officially packed the remainder of my belongings into one of my best friend's car and my adventure officially began.  As I pulled through downtown Northampton, I was laughing and crying all at the same time.  Remembering all of the best times I had in that town and unsure when I would see her again. N...

As many of you know, I was recently offered a teaching position in Ifrane, Morocco.  The announcement went out on Facebook and shock, awe and congratulations were uttered with varying degrees of enthusiasm.  While visiting my former school, I was able to tell my former students about this new crazy adventure.  While most were a little taken aback by the news many didn't seem surprised once it had sunk in.  It seemed like such a "Strem" thing to do.  Clearly my name had become synonymous with daring.  I was ecstatic to hear that.  Now, I'm down to nineteen days left in the Pioneer Valley.  Nineteen days left in in the apartment with the crazy roommate family that I was lucky enough to find.  Nineteen days left in the place that I have called home for the last eight years.  A week after that I will officially leave the continent and move over three thousand miles away. For the past few months, every time I think about it I end up with ...

Dear Eren, I am writing this the year after your death and it is so incredibly hard but there are some things you need to do for the amazing people you encounter.  My father was enamored with my impressions and stories of you because you were the strangest, most wonderful student I possibly ever had.  I sit here writing this thinking how in the heck I ended up with someone so incredibly individual and fantastic.  I called you Penguin.  Here's why... I remember you coming to my classroom in 6th grade and you were this tiny little Turkish boy.  You had the strangest accent I've ever heard.  Still to this day I am the only one who can mimic you (that I know of) because even your sister had no idea where you got that accent.  You raised your hand in my classroom and asked me, very seriously, "Miss?  Why did the penguins take over Antarctica?"  It was the strangest question I had been asked in middle school (which was saying something).  ...