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.

Rila Monastery

On our weekend trip to the festival in Pernik, we made a spontaneous decision not to return to the festival for a 2nd day, but instead drive for two hours to the Rila Monastery. Founded in 927 AD, Rila is Bulgaria's most important religious site and many Bulgarian pilgrims come to pay homage. The monastery itself has been plundered, burned, restored, and declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983. It was founded by a hermit monk Ivan Rilski, who lived in a cave for twelve years and slept on rocks. He dedicated himself entirely to a life of isolation and prayers to God and became the founder of Bulgarian monasticism.

Most Bulgarians recommend seeing this retreat in the spring or summer because of the green beauty of the Rila Mountains and cold running trout streams. Tom and I thought we would wait, but when we realized that we had a car and were within striking distance, we decided to check it out.

To get to this very remote monastery requires commitment and patience. When we turned off the main highway towards the town of Rila, we thought we were almost there. No, Tom drove through a very curvy mountain road for another thirty minutes. Because the monastery rests between two mountains, sighting it from afar was impossible. We didn't know we had arrived until we took a curve in the road around a bend and saw a very small parking lot.

The reward was greatly worth the drive. I thought the retreat magnificent in the snow. It was certainly not crowded and evoked the beauty of a solitary retreat for spiritual contemplation.

Within the monastery walls is the Church of the Nativity with vivid frescoes covering the outside walls, telling stories of the damnation of sinners and the ascent upward toward the angels and saints.

Another architectural attraction of the compound is the four levels of wooden balconies that all turn inward facing one another and looking down on the shared grounds.

Snow and ice covered the interior lawn. A few black-robed Eastern orthodox priests walked throughout. The inward facing balconies, folk type paintings on the facade, and the meditative atmosphere reminded both of us of the many Dzongs we saw in Bhutan with the saffron robed monks.

Festival In Pernik and the Rila Monestary

This is Tom writing this one.  It has been an interesting weekend.  We are back home now in Plovdiv after attending a festival in Pernik and then a drive to the Rila Monestary.  It was my first experience driving in Bulgaria and I must say that it was uneventful.  The super highways are very nice - wide, smooth and services at convenient locations.  The other roads were narrow, full of pot holes and partially covered in snow and ice.  Some of the local drivers tend to be a little aggressive. They will pull around you to make a left hand turn if they don't think you are being pushy enough.  All in all - not bad.  We had a hotel in Bayana for the two nights. A Fulbright Graduate research student told us about the festival and rode with us.  She is extremely bright, self-confident, and totally committed to getting the most of her Fulbright experience.  She knows some Bulgarian and is quite tech savvy (software engineer for Apple in the summers) so she was a big help getting there. We all stopped at our hotel because it was on the way to the festival.  After leaving the hotel, we were on a heavily traveled secondary road and the police waved me over.  He barked something in Bulgarian and when I shrugged he reached in, turned my lights on for me and motioned me to move on by saying "OK Bye Bye."

I am sure that Carol will write more about Rila but I would just say that the driving was a challenge.  Lots of snow and ice, large potholes, narrow roads and limited signage all contributed to the adventure.  I got a Bulgarian sim card and Carol was navigating using my phone but we still managed a few wrong turns.  It took us a little over two hours each way but all in all - well worth it.

Pernik festival a la Mardi Gras

Tom, Rachel, and I set out on Friday for the Surva Festival in Pernik, which is about 30 miles southeast of Sofia. Rachel was interested in the festival because she researches different folk flutes and their uses. What we read about the festival reminded us of the annual Busójárás festival we went to in Mohacs, Hungary. Much like Mardi Gras, it is a pre-Lenten  carnival celebration where men adorned with freakish, horned wooden masks (busós) parade through town to scare off winter and welcome spring. It has an ancient pagan history. Well, so does the festival in Pernik.


 Here are a picture of the masks in Mohacs and a brief historical summary lifted from Wikipedia if you are interested. Otherwise skip over the italics:

Busó masks (Mohács, February 2006)

According to the most popular legend, during the Ottoman times of the territory, people from Mohács fled the town, and started living in the nearby swamps and woods to avoid Ottoman (Turkish) troops. One night, while they were sitting and talking around the fire, an old Šokac man appeared suddenly from nowhere, and said to them: "Don't be afraid, your lives will soon turn to good and you'll return to your homes. Until that time, prepare for the battle, carve various weapons and scary masks for yourselves, and wait for a stormy night when a masked knight will come to you." He disappeared as suddenly as he arrived. The refugees followed his orders, and some days later, on a stormy night, the knight arrived. He ordered them to put on their masks and go back to Mohács, making as much noise as possible. They followed his lead. The Turks were so frightened by the noise, the masks, and the storm in the night, that they thought demons were attacking them; and they ran away from the town before sunrise.
In the older, less popular story, the busós are scaring away not the Turks but Winter itself.
In any case, the locals have celebrated the Busójárás in early February every year ever since, hosting "guest Busó teams" from neighbouring countries (Croatia and Serbia, local Šokci Croats and Slovenia) and also from Poland.


The Surva festival is held over the whole weekend, and the event that most interested us was the night parade masquerade on Friday night. We got there early and milled around the town centre promenade where numerous wooden booths sold various traditional foodstuffs and souvenirs. We couldn't tell where the parade route was or anything. We went into cafe for hot chocolate because it was getting cold and we also wanted a WC. Emerging from the cafe into the night air, we saw brightly lit torches to the left. It was thrilling! Fire filled the night sky. Our old Mardi Gras Krewe in San Luis Obispo was called Krewe Flambeaux after the old torch lit night parades in New Orleans. No way could this take place now because of the fire hazard. Well, fire hazard be damned!

The masked paraders stood tall posing with their torches while people took their pictures. There were 50 or 60 of them, all ages, wearing extremely large animal masks. The mask, according to folklore beliefs, protects from the harmful influence of impure powers.  The other remarkable part of their costumes was the heavy belt of bells (like cow bells) that hung down from the low waist like a short grass skirt. The sounds of the bells hanging from the belts of the dancers are said to reinforce the protective properties of the masks.

All of a sudden one started jumping up and down in a particular dance motion, and then all the others followed until an amazing rhythmic sound of unity and celebration reverberated. It was electrifying and surprising because we did not know they did this. The dance of the bells is supposed to evoke a blessing of prosperity, rich harvest, health, and fertility for villagers and their farm animals. The whole atmosphere of the event evokes pagan rituals and a primitive life force.

   

Here is the website if you would like to read more.
 

WWW.SURVA.ORG

 

People We Have Met

Our first wonderful Bulgarian friend is our landlady Lili, whom I have already referred to in a blog because she greeted us upon arrival in Plovdiv. The second is a colleague named Milena, whom I have emailed with for over a year now. We finally met last week. She is still finishing the first semester at the University, so she is busy grading and giving exams. Nevertheless, she met us last week in front of the post office. She has a big smile and a head of bright red hair with glasses. I immediately liked her and felt comfortable. She took us around the corner to a new, kinda avant gardey tea shop, where the barrista recommended their cocoa tea. We said, "Sure." We have said this repeatedly since arriving to any suggestions from wait people, because -what do we know?

We noticed a camera crew inside that was filming and wondered if this was some new style urban film making that you read about. Milena knew the owner who said that it was a tv crew from a national tv station in Sofia. The owner was a tall woman with very fair skin and contrasting black hair in a page boy with bangs. She had on a pleated skirt and a loose sweater over a collared blouse with a long silk tie. She had a very attractive distinct style as did her tea shop. Milena told us that she owned the art gallery right next door where talks are held and introduced us.  Evidently the camera crew was doing a piece on Plovdiv because it was being considered as the number one tourist destination in Europe. 

After Tom and I sat down with our tea, Milena told us that the tv crew wondered if they could interview us. We were incredulous, but said sure (once again). They asked us what we thought of Plovdiv and if we thought it deserved this honor. Having arrived 48 hours ago, we emphatically confirmed that yes, we did. Later, Milena sent us the tv newsfeed, and the pictures of Plovdiv are great. Check it out.

http://vbox7.com/emb/external.php?vid=66de5f1d9d


Our next friend named Rachel is a student Fulbrighter, who has lived in Plovdiv since October.  She is studying different kinds of folk flutes and is taking flute music lessons. I was put in touch with her before we left because she had an apartment vacancy. We had emailed a couple of times, and after we arrived, we met for coffee. A graduate of Barnard, she is impressively smart, full of useful knowledge, and a kind soul. She told us about this folk festival in Pernik that she was going to over the weekend. We knew nothing about it, but it sounded reminiscent of a fun festival we went to in a village in Hungary at this same time of year.  Tom and I decided to go, and it ended up that we were able to give Rachel a ride because Lili offered us the use of her car. A very generous offer. More later about our escapades!

Food

Tom and I have been very excited about the food in Bulgaria. It is much healthier that what we were expecting. Every single menu leads with a full page of salads, and it is January! Salads are a large part of the Bulgarian diet. We can't get over the size of the salads; they are larger than entree size, like a small platter. Tom and I ordered one and split it. The one in this picture was like cole slaw, primarily cabbage with yogurt-like dressing.
 


We followed this with a chicken and a lamb shish kabob. Bulgarians are big on grilled meats. The restaurant we went to for lunch was cozy with a fire, wooden walls and furniture, and red folk table cloths and napkins. It's an old restaurant near us that local people flock to. One large party was celebrating a birthday, and the two women next to us were only having bowls of soup and bread. Flatbread is popular, probably because of being close to Greece and Turkey. You can order different kinds and they are often served in little paper bags.

Wednesday night we went out to our first, more fine dining restaurant, one that was recommended, called Hemingway. They have pictures of Hemingway on the menu, kinda funny. The waiter wanted to impress us, so we let him by taking his suggestions. He started us off with roasted aubergine diced with a wonderful feta spread and toast. All kinds of feta are sold here-delicious variations with olives. He then brought olive tapenade flatbread. I told him I liked seafood, so for an entree he served me squid stuffed with octopus and prawns with some cheese melted over the top. More than I could eat, but very good. He served Tom a veal steak with green pepper sauce. The veal was to die for--just delicious. It was cut and served like a steak at home. Tom had two beers and I got a half bottle of wonderful red wine, and our meal was about $43. Previously we had eaten at a pizzaria that serves fabulous thin crust pizza with wonderful salads for $15 including drinks.

Although I have done a lot of cooking because it has been cold, I have a feeling we will be eating out A LOT. By the way, yesterday I went and bought a scale....

 

Striking Observations

The most striking thing so far is that nobody smokes inside.  Not in restaurants.  Not in coffee shops.  Not completely sure about bars but so far it is incredibly nice to be in a smoke free environment.  We see quite a few people smoking outside but not inside.

We went to a movie this afternoon.  Saw "Youth"  It was in English with Bulgarian subtitles.  We are told that is the standard - nice for us.

We have had no trouble finding people who speak enough English to communicate the basics.  We are told that it will be more difficult when we in more rural areas.  The people are super friendly and this town is simply beautiful with lots of sights to see and places to investigate.

And - most striking of all is the abundant availability of salads.  In Hungary we were dying for some lettuce and good healthy salad and here there is an extensive salad section of all menus and the grocery has iceberg, butter, and romaine lettuce - all fresh and crispy.

Life is good.

The Amazing Internet

I am eternally grateful to Al Gore for inventing the internet.  As we have reported, we have been searching for a way to watch sports and some of our TV show here.  Most if not all channels are blocked here so even the HBO GO app and Watch ESPN are blocked here.  A little research and $60 later, I found Express VPN which gives you a US IP address and voila - everything is available. We watched an episode of Downton Abbey last night on the computer - not perfect but certainly ok.  The only problem now is the time difference.  We have the technology to watch most sports live - but we would be up in the middle of the night.  Maybe after Joe Biden cures cancer he can even out all of the time zones.

PS - I sure hope that a VPN is not illegal and I have just admitted to a crime.  Later.......

Sports Bar

Back out on the streets of Plovdiv in search of a solution for our sports addiction, Tom and I came across an imposing façade on the main pedestrian mall whose glittery lights exclaimed Sports Bar and Casino. The black entry doors mysteriously opened in front of us and revealed a bodyguard dressed in black who spoke no English. A cheery, East European woman with a severe hairstyle, also dressed in black, asked us for our passports. You must have a passport to get in. We didn’t have them with us, but went back the next day. This speaks to our determination.  Once we provided our passports, the doors to the Sports Bar unlocked before us. It was the most depressing place ever! For all its artificial glam, the dark space smelled of stale smoke, vibrated with American pop music, and housed the requisite video poker and slot machines as well as blackjack and roulette wheels. About two players were in each room. All men, all looking sad and varying in age. We found our way to the small sports area where about eight large tv screens projected all types of sports, and stadium seating provided the viewing area just like in Vegas. One lone man sat in a lounge chair smoking a cigarette. A young man was behind a podium. He spoke little English and was not very friendly or inviting. I could see the Australian Open on a couple of screens, but saw no football. This was Saturday and we were wondering if they would be showing the pro football playoffs on Sunday to determine who is in the Super Bowl. The man told us it would not be live, but they might show it the next day. He was in no way encouraging.

We couldn’t get out of there fast enough. After getting our passports back, we returned to the daylight. My theory about the place was that it was run by Russians, and we were not welcome because we were obviously Americans. I worried about them now having copies of our passports and the next thing you know the Russian mob would be raiding our apartment and taking us hostage. Who would pay the ransom? Tom’s theory was that we didn’t look like gamblers, so why bother being friendly?  He also informed me that all casinos in foreign countries require a passport to get in. He did easily promise not ever to go back and play blackjack.

We still do not have a solution to the Super Bowl, but I think we will survive. In the meantime, I am blissed out to have found that Eurosports on tv is covering the Australian Open, and I have been reveling in the viewing of a five set Djokovic match. I think I can relax now.

Television Travails

Even given the below freezing temperatures, we have been out exploring everyday for a few hours. Our apartment is very near a big park that is currently covered with snow with its fountains iced. We know that in a couple of months we will be trying to remember what it looked like all frozen over and that children will be running through the fountains. Right now, however, I am paying close attention to my feet because I don’t want to slip and fall. When we are not outside, we are indoors in our apartment. In fact, we have spent many hours here as one does when it is frigid outside: hence my blog entry on domesticity.

Along with my desire to create a home has come corresponding habits that I relate to having free time indoors and that is television. I confess to being used to having a pro football game on, especially a playoff game, or a tennis match, especially the Australian Open. My friends know my love of tennis and understand the void I feel to be missing a Grand Slam. To be doing laundry or cooking without tennis on is for me to feel something missing. The silence has been interesting. No music, no Alexa, nothing.

When we saw Lili again, we asked her about the tv because even Tom couldn’t figure  out how to turn it on. She showed us how to operate the small box set. There are very few stations, but we have learned how to get International CNN in English. Okay, so now we can hear the same news every half hour. By the third day, however, the sound of English was comforting. Now, not so much. I confess to actually feeling some anxiety at the prospect of silence. This is a confession, one that I am not proud of.  It is one of the things you learn about yourself when taken out of your routine environment. Please don’t misunderstand, when we travel, I never miss tv; we seldom ever turn on a tv set in a hotel room anywhere. But with daily routines being established here, I have realized that since retiring and no longer needing to read and prep a novel for teaching, I am accustomed to watching tv after dinner. So much quality tv is available now. Downton Abbey was starting; we had just finished Homeland and The Knick. News was not going to take the place of these stories. For me they are simultaneously relaxing and intellectually satisfying.  When I tried reading, I could only sustain it for an hour without getting sleepy, and we were wanting to stay up in order to turn our internal clocks around.

So I discovered an addiction in Bulgaria, and to my chagrin it fits the American stereotype. Lili offered no solution, only the instruction of how to operate the tv. Tom cannot find a way to stream anything, including ESPNwatch. So this means no North Carolina basketball or Super Bowl. When we met Milena, a colleague (and another blog entry), I apologetically broached the subject. We are ready to pirate! Anything! Where is a Sports Bar? Please, help us! She couldn’t immediately offer a solution. So now our problem (to be fair, Tom was not as crazed as I was) sent us to the Tourist Information Office. Okay, we didn’t go there only to ask about tv; we did have other questions.  We brought up the Super Bowl and the location of a Sports Bar. The young man in the office named Stoyan told us Bulgarians were not interested in American football.  In so many words, he was telling us no Super Bowl would be playing anywhere because no one cared. We understand completely that American football is not the center of the universe, but this would not deter us.

Domesticity

I have been surprised how focused I have been on setting up a home here. I have never considered myself domestic, but yesterday I found myself wanting to cook a pot of something good because it was so cold outside. Finding beans and spices was a challenge because of our inability to read labels. This is the reason why I find myself looking for name brands I know. Well, this is a lost cause. Even in a drugstore, I thought I could find Advil but maybe not read the directions. Here the products are different. Nothing is recognizable. Completely different brands. This was not true in Hungary or Thailand. I want to find out where their products come from. I did manage to find white beans, a small piece of ham, garlic, onion, celery and carrots, but spices--forget it! Nevertheless, yesterday I cooked a really satisfying pot of white beans. We also bought a rotisserie chicken and I fixed zucchini, onion, garlic, red pepper, and feta. They have all kinds of variations of feta and sell many different kinds of olives. Although I often buy our vegetables at Farmer's in SLO, the produce here tastes even better. There is also a lot of fruit--oranges and tangerines. The diet is amazingly healthy.
Restaurants will give you the option of having mashed potatoes or a salad with your meat entree.

I also washed clothes today, using the washing machine that is in the kitchen.  The drum is very small, but I did two loads easily. The dryer is a rack that you lay clothes on and let them air dry. Because the rack is not large, you are limited in how much you can wash at one time.

Showers are also interesting. I have decided that Europe just doesn't do showers or bathrooms like we do in the states. Bathing is strictly utilitarian; nothing about the set up promotes lingering or enjoyment. The apartment has a shower wand and drain in the floor next to the lavatory. To help prevent complete bathroom coverage, a rod with a shower curtain helps promote a separation, but not really. Water floods the floor because I don't think we are supposed to keep the water on except when we are pointing it at our body. I hate Navy showers when you turn off the water when you are sudsying. It is freezing. Did I mention that the high today was 30 degrees and the low 12?  With the drought at home, we collected excess water in buckets and then used that water to flush toilets. So my point is that we are not water wasters, yet we enjoy our showers. The size of American bathrooms and showers speaks to our love of bathing, and I suppose excess. Shaving legs in such an environment will be challenging.

Our Apartment and Landlady

While is San Luis Obispo we found our Plovdiv apartment on Airbnb and began communicating with our host Lili, who is a doctor. Lili met us the night we arrived, gave our driver directions through the old narrow streets, welcomed us graciously by opening a bottle of wine, and went to pick up pizza. We knew immediately that we had found a friend and that we were very lucky. She is quite short and full of energy. Her knowledge of English and the city is invaluable. Our stay in her apartment for six months is unusually long for an Airbnb, but the arrangement works very well for both of us. I felt strange at first like we were pre-empting her of her home. Her things are here and yet we live with them. She told us that she often rents one bedroom to someone while she stays in the other. She works in a nearby hospital specializing in children's diseases and genetics. She seems to genuinely love people. I am sure by the time we leave we will know her well. Right now I am thankful to have found such a kind soul.

I will share some pictures of the apartment.

 

First Day in Plovdiv

We awoke to a snow-blanketed city.  People slowly began to come out around 11am; many were digging up snow around their front stoops and sidewalks. I haven’t walked on slick, icy sidewalks since Pecs, Hungary, in 2009. In fact, I am wearing the same boots. It’s so much fun to walk out of our apartment that will be a new home for six months and see what awaits. Everything is a discovery.  The corner grocery nook, coffee shop, the closest ATM, the local police drinking coffee, the snow plows digging up the walkway in front of the post office, and the pedestrian mall or brick-lined street that leads to the Roman Amphitheater.  I also love that the city is littered with cats that don’t seem to mind the snow. People feed and pet them. What a wonderful tonic since I already miss our animals.  I took pictures of everything covered in snow because I know it won’t be long before this white landscape is just a memory.

Grocery shopping was the main item on our list. We needed beer (Tom had already gone one night without any), water, and other essentials. I have never had such a disorienting shopping experience, and this is primarily because of the language.  Bulgarian is written in Cyrillic alphabet, which is not Latin in origin, so to English speakers, nothing is familiar. In fact, all language is indecipherable. Food labels were seldom translated so just picking out tea was challenging. Black, green, herbal? Same with jam or jelly. I found myself looking for brand names I know like a capitalistic co-dependent. Although we bought some necessary items, we came out without anything to eat for dinner.

Trip to Plovdiv, Our New Home

For me the beginning of our new Bulgarian experience began when Tom and I boarded the regional jet from Munich, Germany, to Sofia, the Capitol of Bulgaria. On this Wednesday afternoon Tom and I appeared to be the only tourists, and I felt as if our different appearance was noticeable. Whatever makes us Californians stood out next to local Eastern Europeans in winter time. I do not mean I was uncomfortable; when  you are surrounded by another language and culture than yours, you know you are not a part of it. People do look at you. I imagine they placed us as Americans pretty quickly.

We were met at the Sofia airport by a driver who took us the hour and half to Plovdiv. He spoke little English and it was a very cold evening. Snow covered the trees and hills. We asked to stop for a sandwich and some water. We were both coughing and when I reached for a water bottle in the van, it was empty. There appears to be mainly two brands of roadside cafes: OMV and another I cannot replicate. Our friend in Hungary had told us that OMV was Austrian and the other was Russian; he always stopped at OMV because he found it more reliable and was predisposed to anything Austrian. Our driver passed many OMV's  and stopped at the other place. No one spoke English, which is completely understandable, but different from our experience in Hungary. One reason I picked Bulgaria for my Fulbright is that I did not want to have a Western European experience.

The driver called Lili, our landlady, who gave him directions and met us at our new address, a door at an apartment building on a very narrow street. We are glad not to have a car. We all carried our six bags up four flights of stairs. We could tell immediately that we had found a new friend in Lily. She welcomed us into her apartment, made us feel at home, picked up a lovely salad and pizza for us, and toasted us with wine. A wonderful beginning to our new, short life in Plovdiv.

Preparations

Preparations are well under way for our next adventure. Carol and I leave next Tuesday for a little more than six months in Bulgaria. Carol was awarded another Fulbright and will be teaching American Literature at the University in Plovdiv. We have our passports with the appropriate visa, apartment secured and ride from the airport arranged. Not only did we learn a lot from our experience in Hungary but the development of the internet has made many things easier to organize. You may recall that our first night in our apartment in Hungary was a lot like camping - no sheets or towels or blankets and no coffee our first morning.
This time - through Air BnB, we have a fully furnished apartment and we have communicated with the landlady several times. Carol and I will both be updating this blog regularly so check back and let us know what you want more information about. We were very pleased and somewhat surprised when we returned from Hungary at the number of people who commented about the blog. We had no idea so many were reading along.