Baba Marta

Baba Marta or Granny March Day is celebrated on March 1.  It is yet another ritual that marks the end of winter and beginning of spring.  Here in Bulgaria, martinitsi, or red and white yarns are exchanged.  There are hundreds of sellers in public places and one can buy from very simple to very elaborate martinitsi to exchange with friends.  Some of Carol's students gave her some and even a shop keeper of a store we frequent gave us one. One legend says that you wear the martinitsi until you see a tree in bloom - another says is must be a fruit tree in bloom - and another says you wear it until you see a stork.  The display in the town plaza was in honor of this tradition.

Lots of fun and different rituals to learn about.  Having fun!

Veliko Turnovo and Independence Day

We rented a car and drove to a lovely city about 3 hours from here.  At least, it should have taken about 3 hours and ended up taking about 6.  The Google Maps app on the phone went a little crazy and routed us a weird way and then the road we were supposed to take was closed.  We had to back track a mile or so and then take a very small curvy road to our destination.  Oh well, another adventure.

We met Isabel and John for dinner, (she is a fellow Fulbrighter), and then walked to a spot where we watched a light show at the Fortress.  Very impressive!  This was Bulgarian Independence Day or Liberation Day.  Seems that Bulgaria was liberated a number of times over the years.

 

The next morning was rainy so Carol got some work done and when the rain abated we set out to find the artisan shopping street.  There were lots of fun little shops and Carol found a copper pot she really liked.  Here she is with the craftsman himself.

The next day we set out to see the fortress.  It was very impressive.  That spot occupied from the fourth millennium BC.  The second kingdom fell in 1393 and the fortress was reduced to rubble.  You can see the foundation and a few areas have been restored.

There was a huge monument that we could see from our hotel room. 

 I took the foot bridge across to see it up close.

Bulgarian Buddy

 A hill close to our house called Liberator's Hill has a towering statue on the top.  The monument is a replica of a Russian soldier who helped liberate Bulgaria from the Turks in the late 1800's.  There are lots of paths and steps to the top and great views along the way.  I have been up three times - two by myself and once with Carol.  All three times, I met this very friendly Bulgarian man who was descending the hill as I was ascending.  We met in almost the same spot each time - really weird.  He and I have chatted each time although he does not know a single English word and my only Bulgarian word is "davishonay" or "goodbye."  I found out that he is 71 years old and climbs to the top twice a day.  He is very talkative - although I have no idea what he is saying for the most part.  Today when I met him - I think he asked me if I was working here and I said no - my wife was.  He had met Carol a few days ago.  He smiled and pointed to the imaginary Carol and made the universal sign for very pretty.  He was with another guy today so I got my phone out and took a selfie of the three of us.

The guy I met three times is the short fellow in the center.  I suppose I will run into him again - I think he asked if I wanted to go for a coffee - but who knows.  I will keep you posted.

Unexpected Opportunities

Last Wednesday evening I went to a local Toastmasters Meeting.  I have been a member of the SLO Motions Toastmasters club for several years and have totally enjoyed my experience.  Before leaving home, I checked the TM International website and found a chapter here in Plovdiv.  I decided to check it out and was quite impressed.  The meeting had an agenda and was structured almost identically to our meeting back home.  I really didn't know what to expect - would the meeting be in Bulgarian or English.  Would the members be old or young - male or female?  I was by far the oldest person in the room filled with energetic, English-speaking Bulgarians.  They were a bright, funny and quite enthusiastic.

I am looking forward to returning and hearing more of their very entertaining speeches.

And then, on Saturday, I participated as a judge in the Bulgarian Creative Writing Competition. Essays from all over the country from grades 6,7,8,9,10,11 and 12 were submitted.  We first read about 45 entries and decided on our own if they should move on the to next level.  The criteria was heavily weighted towards creativity, but grammar, spelling, and adherence to the theme were also factored in.  The next round consisted of reading the "passed" entries from a different grade.  We scored these and the top ten in each grade made the final round.  Our group then read the top ten and picked the top four to move on the National judging.  As you might expect, there were some marginal entries, but I was impressed by the clever, sophisticated and entertaining submissions by so many students.

Here is a picture of the judges from the Plovdiv area.

You may wonder how I got involved in this.  The organization that puts on the competition asked the Fulbrighters if they would be willing to help out.  Carol said that she was too busy but happily volunteered me to participate.  Let's hear it for the Half-Brighters.

Wine Festival

There seems to be many different festivals every weekend here in Bulgaria.  Carol immediately keyed in on a wine festival in Brestivitza, a town about 30 minutes from here.  Using our landlady's car once again, we ventured out into the unknown.  We got to this little village and saw the little vendors setting up around the town square.  We didn't know exactly what to expect or when so we walked around a bit.  There were a few wineries with casks on the back of pick up trucks giving out samples but it was a little too early even for us.

We had heard that a procession started at the church so we wandered up there to see what was going on.  There was nothing happening so we asked a man there if there was a celebration today.  He seemed to say yes and when we asked "When?" he looked at us and said "Wait.  Just wait.  It is what we do - we wait."

We wandered a bit more and could tell things were gearing up.  Some flag bearers started walking from the church to the square with a priest behind.  The music stopped and someone made a very nice speech.  With that, the flag bearers, priest and everyone else started this processional through town.  There was a police escort which consisted of a police car with it doors open driving in front.  We paraded through town and then out to the vineyards.  There was a table set up with candles stuck in bread.  The priest said some prayers and blessings and then tossed some holy water only 5 guys behind him who represented the five families who made wine in that region.  Then the priest went into the vineyard and pruned a vine or two and sprinkled more holy water.  I am guessing that the vines now are prepared to produce the best grapes ever.

As fate would have it, during the ceremony, a guy turned to me and said in perfect English - "Beautiful day isn't it?"  When I responded he asked where I was from and we started talking.  It turns out that he is Dutch and but has lived in Bulgaria for 20 years and owns a sewing factory!  Naturally, we had lots to talk about and he ended up inviting us to the winery of one of the "Big 5" families for a bar-b-que and wine tasting.  I think we crashed the party but no one seemed to mind and we had lots to talk with him and his wife about.

Carol and I are going to see their sewing factory on Friday.  Strange things happen in this world for sure.

Nice speeches in the square.

Processional to the vineyard

The blessing of the vines.

Crashing the party.

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Bulgarian Wines

I have very much enjoyed all the red wine I have ordered in restaurants in Plovdiv. Our landlady Lili was even kind enough to bring us back a plastic bottle of her "Poppy's wine." He lives in a nearby village, and evidently most rural Bulgarians make their own. This week past week I wanted to learn more about specific Bulgarian wines made around the Plovdiv region.

On a local map, we saw Bendida Enotheca and Wine Shop and decided to pursue it. We walked quite a distance to get there (in an area where Bulgarians live in apartment buildings).  We spotted it because we saw a couple of men stowing big plastic bottles of wine into their car parked on the sidewalk. As we entered the small shop, we didn't know what to expect. I had read somewhere that they served tapas and wine tasting samples. First, we observed shelves of plastic liter bottles and numerous small plastic cups with remnants of red wine. I knew I couldn't do any wine tasting without something in my stomach.

A friendly Bulgarian woman came up to us and asked in English if we would like to taste. Tom told her we had come to get some information. She told us about her family winery, that she was the sommelier, and her daughter, the winemaker. Although English was her fourth language, she enthusiastically informed us about grapes that were unique to this area. So I had to taste.

I told her I liked red wine, and she asked me what my favorite was. I told her Pinot Noir, but that I also liked red blends. She said that Bulgarians liked bigger wines than Pinot.  First she poured me their lightest red, which I immediately liked because it was not that light. She told us about the grape wine varieties Rubin and Mavrud that are typical of the Plovdiv region. The Rubin was my favorite. They also sold labeled glass bottles of these wines. However, I couldn't resist the deal of two plastic liters of Rubin for 20 lev or $12, so we toted it home and have enjoyed it every evening at dinner.

The woman on the right is the sommelier and mother of the wine maker at Bendida.

Carol really liked this particular jug.

Daily Life in our Apartment and our new World

Tom and I have now been in Plovdiv three weeks and have begun to settle into some routine-sorta. Some things remain the same: Tom gets up first and makes coffee. I like this ritual particularly well. However, he has been sick, and this shatters everything. However, he is never down for long. Yesterday he had a stomach virus that had him down and out on the couch. Very unusual for Tomas. Today he has rallied and is cleaning house. Vacuum out like a weapon, on hands and knees in the shower with the terrible drain, and ripping sheets off the bed. I always know when he is feeling good because order is restored and I am the beneficiary.

 
My duties include taking care of food, cooking, and laundry. Right now these chores are daily. The washing machine holds about a purse-size load. The machine tucks neatly behind a kitchen cabinet door. The refrigerator does the same.  This is all neatly compact.

When I do laundry, which is often, I tablespoon laundry detergent into a tiny drawer that won't pull out completely. Literally, I take a tablespoon like I am scooping up sugar and place it carefully in the little slot.The shortest cycle is an hour and half and that is for baby loads.

Once removed, I lay the garments out on our Hungarian dryer--this is our word for it. Our apartment in Hungary advertised having a washer and dryer. When we arrived, we discovered that the dryer was a hanging rack and that this was all anybody had. Now I have a similar rack to dry clothes on in San Luis Obispo and am quite attached to it. The Bulgarians in apartments across from us hang their laundry out on poles that extend out on their balconies. Our dryer sits in our living room.

Cooking and Grocery Shopping

Cooking has gone well. We have a small oven and two burners. I have made a lot of soup, bought rotisserie chicken (a luxury) that lasts for three or more meals and then I make a chicken soup. When Tom was sick yesterday, he wanted chicken soup. None was made, so I went to the store to buy some. No cans of soup-none-no Campbells-nothing. I am sure that Bulgarians make soup and don't buy it. As I have reported, the Cyrillic alphabet is challenging. I have learned only the letters A through G, so I can't read any labels. Also food brands are entirely different. No Delmonte, no Campbells, no Heinz, no General Foods, no Trader Joe's.  I didn't realize how much I rely on labels to identify products: Advil, Tide, Kleenex, Cascade. I wrote about this in another blog entry. Alone at the store I felt conspicuous holding up boxes and cans like a Martian wondering what they contained. Many people don't speak English, so I didn't want to intrude on ordinary citizens going about their day.

The store not only did not have cans of soup; it didn't sell chicken broth either. Think of all our cartons of chicken stock! I found very small boxes that looked like they could contain boullion cubes. I just couldn't read what kind. I had a Bulgarian dictionary with me and found the Cyrillic word for chicken. Looking for these exact letters gave me the pace of an archeologist exploring a newly uncovered site. Eventually, I felt self-conscious and grabbed something that looked chicken-like.

At the checkout counter, the clerk showed me the printed amount on the receipt. Okay, I've got this. I have mastered the money! The bill was 22 lev and 71 cents. I handed her a 20 lev bill and a 5 lev bill. She said something to me in Bulgarian, probably asking me something. At this point in my grocery shopping experience, I already felt like a child, so I figured I had done something wrong and apologized in English for not understanding. Then it occurred to me that maybe she was asking if I had one cent. By the time I got my coin purse open, she grumblingly handed me the change as others impatiently waited in line.

I returned to the apartment after one last mishap. I stopped at a corner grocery, almost every corner has an urban green stall. I stopped to buy water and beer. In front of me, a very attractive red-headed Bulgarian woman with black leggings and over the knee leather boots screamed when I dropped a bottle of beer behind her. The glass crashing on the tile floor was astonishingly spectacular as was the flood created by the frothing, surging liquid beer, some of which splashed on customer's leather boots. She spoke loudly to the cashier, grabbed napkins to wipe herself, and wouldn't look at me as I profusely apologized. The cashier was very nice and kept saying, "No problem." However, my accident covered the entire floor space and made it difficult for other customers to come in. I quickly grabbed a plastic bottle of beer, tried to help her clean up, and left.

I returned to our apartment chastened by my day. Fortunately this morning, all is well. Tom is feeling good, back to cleaning, and playing bridge on the Ipad. We are ready to greet this new day.