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.
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