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.