Flyin’

Friday was moving day for my brother, Simon, and his wife. Thankfully they didn’t have too much junk (at least by American standards,) and many hands indeed made the work light—in fact we were done in a few hours. So, Micah—my other brother—asked me if I want a ride in his new airplane—a Lancair Legacy. Of course I jumped at the chance; he has been building this high-performance airplane for a couple of years now, so obviously I wanted to experience what it is like to ride in this “sports car in the sky.” As you can see from the battleship gray color, there are still a few cosmetic tasks that need to be completed, but nothing that would affect its air-worthiness (despite the ominous “passenger warning” on the instrument panel.) In fact, he had just modified the oil door on the cowling, which allows us to appreciate the throaty six-cylinder engine (it did sound like a sports cars when he fired it up) in the picture at the top—it certainly doesn’t need any help from a hypothetical MTV “Pimp my plane!”

We taxied to the runway, checked the engine, and then Micah released the brakes. I was immediately impressed; the plane pushed me back in the seat in a way that I’ve only ever experienced in a jet.

Micah’s friend, Eric, was also ready to fly, so he got into his little plane and joined us in the skies within a few minutes. He also built his own plane—a Cassutt, which is a type of aircraft that they race around pylons in Reno, Nevada; needless to say it is fast. Never the less, Micah was able to blow his doors off, as we say in the American vernacular for racing past another vehicle. We flew to the Pelion airport for fuel, and I learned just how expensive this hobby is—avgas is over $3 a gallon!

On the way back, we came across Micah’s neighbor, Tim, who is an aerial photographer. Of course, we had to get some more pictures (I had been taking many from our perspective, but needed some of us.) So, we flew to Lake Murray to snap some air-to-air photos: in the picture above, Eric is on the left in his Cassutt, and Micah’s Legacy is on the right (if you blow it up, you will see Micah in the left seat—looking toward the camera, and I looking forward—starting to get a little queasy from all the steep turns.) Photo credit: Tim French. I took the final picture here: silhouettes of Tim’s plane on the left and Eric on the right captured over the lake at sunset.

On Blogging

I’ve been blogging nearly continuously for 3 years now. So, naturally, I’ve given some thought to why I do this. I started my first blog when I went to business school in Vienna in 2004. It was intended as a way for my friends and family to keep up with what I am doing without sending out individual emails (or pestering anyone with bulk emails.) As such, it was successful; my audience grew by word of mouth to include all kinds of friend, family, acquaintances, former colleagues, and classmates. Granted, it was not a steady audience (except my mother, who would ask my father every morning if I had written anything new,) but this is the beauty of a blog: friends who had “not visited [my] blog in a while” could easily catch up, since a month’s worth of post can be easily read in one sitting. However, one unexpected person I found out that I am writing for is myself—specifically my “future self.” It turns out my blog is also my diary; I actually enjoy reliving the heady days of grad school, for example, by reading something I wrote a year or two ago. Of course, I would not actually write a diary (that is something only teenage girls do,) so blogging for an audience is an incentive for writing my personal history. However, this dual usage leads to some conflict, namely self-censorship. Due to the broad audience that could potentially read my blog, I often have to choose my words carefully. It’s not that I lead a particularly scandalous life, I just don’t want to bore my audience most of the time (sometimes, though, I do nerd out for the sake of my brothers.) Never the less, many times I redact large portions of what I write in Microsoft Word before I even post it (which, by the way, is good advice for you students out there: don’t write up to a minimum word count; write past it, then cut out the weak portions, leaving only the good stuff.) The other issue is that some characters that make up this ongoing story of my life like to maintain a lower profile. I have little compunction about sharing my life on the Internet, but I’ve found that some people don’t like the idea of me writing about or posting pictures of them on my site. Therefore, I have become more guarded—practically, I have adopted a first-name only policy. One particular young lady has made it clear that she did not want to appear here, but recently has relented, and even ask “why am I not on your blog?” So—without further ado—here is my girlfriend, Mirena.

Ski Borovets

Despite dire warnings that there is insufficient snow in Bulgaria for skiing, we went to Borovets on Sunday with two American diplomats. But first, we had to go shopping. After spending most of the day in countless shops, we went back to a little shop and bought a cute snow bunny outfit that Mirena had initially found. (We also bought a business suit the same day.) Mirena insisted I buy something for myself, so I got a cool new ski jacket; the total for everything was a mere 320 leva ($212.)

The actual skiing was decent; the slopes at the top of the mountain were fine for the most part, although there was over a meter of snow missing compared to last season. I skied nearly nonstop all afternoon, getting my money's worth for the half-day ticket (25 leva.) Meanwhile, Mirena and one of the diplomats were getting beginner ski lessons on the bunny slope. I know this can be frustrating, but she had a reasonably good time.

The past two days have been spent running around town getting "loose ends tied up." For example, this afternoon—just before my flight—we were in the notary's office getting some documents officiated for my business (investment.) Then it was off the the airport, but the new terminal, which is finally in operation. After a tearful goodbye, I was taken by bus to my plane in front of the old terminal—the jetways were standing unused. The Sofia-Brussels flight was remarkable only for the beautiful view of the sunset crisscrossed by contrails of other flights over the skies of Europe. At one point, I looked down I noticed a large river, which I thought probably was the Danube; indeed, just a few seconds later I noticed the unmistakable junction of the Sava and Danube at Belgrade!

Right now I am writing this in a fairly nice hostel in the center of Brussels, having spent my last Euros for the key deposit, I can't even buy a fine Belgium beer! Tomorrow I will get that 10 Euro back, and stretch it between lunch, souvenirs, and train ticket back to the airport. UPDATE: I ended up frittering away the morning, and had to rush to the airport with only minutes to spare—so don't expect any souvenirs! :-(

Velingrad

First, here are some time exposures (all 25 seconds) from New Year’s Eve. The first one—made at 22:00—is a calm view toward Mt. Vitosha (which was only barely visible by the naked eye.) After midnight, fireworks broke out all over the city; people were shooting them rooftops, balconies, and the street—it was like the fourth of July! ;-) In the third picture, you can see the burst of light coming from the official New Years/EU Accession party downtown—which we just watched on TV.

Spa

For the New Year’s holiday (of January 1st and 2nd) we went to spa resort town of Velingrad. We originally made reservations at an old restored hotel (check out the iron work over the door in the picture below!) but we decided on a nicer, newer, and cheaper hotel after tearing all over the city looking for the best value. As in many places in Bulgaria, these spas are fed by naturally hot, slightly minerally water.


The pool was a balmy 31C (88F.) We also hit the Roman (steam) bath, sauna, and had massages. Mirena asked where people go relax in the US; I honestly couldn’t think of an equivalent. I am sure we do have spa resorts somewhere, but I think most people “just go the beach.”

TP

On the way back to Sofia, we came through Belovo, home of Belana Paper Mill—Bulgaria's largest producer of TP and paper towels. Along the road opposite the factory, the street was dotted with vendors selling all the various brands produced there. We stopped and Mirena bought a restaurant-sized roll of paper towels for 3 leva, but she said their prices were actually not that competitive; I suppose they lure Sofians into thinking they can get a good deal on their way home.

Below is one last time exposure I took at twilight as we were heading back to the expressway (notice the streaks of light from cars on the extreme right.)

Oh, and BTW, it is snowing right now! ;-)

Happy New Year!

“Christmas” shopping

As a formerly communist country, New Years is still a bigger holiday in Bulgaria than Christmas day—nearly everyone is guaranteed a 4-day holiday: December 30, 31, January 1, and 2. Since presents are exchanged on this holiday, the shops and malls were packed Friday and Saturday, so I got to experience two last-minute Christmas shopping rushes this month!

Movies

Yesterday, I watched two movies. With the exception of a few French and Russian flicks, cinemas in Bulgaria show the same Hollywood blockbuster as nearly everywhere in the world, and—many times—premiering on the same weekend as in the US, since all they have to do is add subtitles. The cinemas in Sofia are all fairly new, with stadium seating like we have back home, but the ticket prices are significantly cheaper: 4 to 6 leva ($2.70-$4.04.)

First, I watch the new (re-make) James Bond film, Casino Royal. I found it to be a clumsy effort, and—as expected with any new actor playing Bond—I didn’t like Daniel Craig in this role; he seems too rough-edged for this role—Bond is supposed to be effortlessly suave. The parkour stunts were cool, but many of the traditional elements were missing, most notably the array of cool gadgets and the nude, female silhouettes in the opening title sequence. Like I’ve always said, the Bond franchise is just not the same since the end of the cold war, a sentiment seconded by Judy Dench’s “M” character in this film–which of course was poignant for me, watching this behind to old iron curtain.

Later that evening, Mirena and I went to see Robert Altman’s final film, A Prairie Home Companion. The star-studded cast (Meryl Streep, Lindsay Lohan, Kevin Kline, Woody Harrelson, and Tommy Lee Jones) brought in at least a half a dozen Bulgarians who were so bored/disappointed, they left before the end—even Mirena fell asleep. This is to be expected, since it was a sentimental film made for PHC fans (like me.) I wonder who thought it would be a good idea to subtitle and distribute it here.

Back in BG

Well, who’d have thought that I would be back in Bulgaria after only a month back home, but Mirena insisted and since I had nothing better to do—no job yet, and no new year’s eve plans—I had to come over for two weeks. Plus, Bulgaria will join the EU on January 1, so that should make for a big party!

I left for the airport on Christmas day, just as my mother was preparing her big dinner for the whole family; too bad I missed that, but we were all together on Christmas Eve for the magnificent banquet that Debora, my sister-in-law has made a tradition lately.

I had an 11-hour layover in Brussels, so despite being dead-tired from the overnight flight, I had to get out and explore the city. The weather was less than ideal (cold and cloudy,) but I was impressed—Brussels is a magnificent city. BTW, I have an overnight layover on the way back, so I’ll get to see more of it on January 9/10th.

That’s all for now…

Back home

Sorry for not posting anything lately. I’m not quite sure what to write about anymore, and I’m afraid I’ve already lost most of my audience. Never the less, I do intend to keep blogging indefinitely regardless of where I am, so do come back every once in while.

So, for some highlights from the past 3 weeks: After arriving back home from being abroad for 16 months, my homecoming was overshadowed by an announcement from my brother and sister-in-law—they are going to have a baby! Obviously, we are all very happy for them (especially my parents.) But, hey, Joel just returned—you stole my thunder! ;-) Not to be outdone, my other brother and sister-in-law, made an announcement 2 weeks later…that’s right, they are going to have a baby too (in fact they are even farther alone!) So, yes, it is kinda hard being the only single person left in my family, but I’m used to it.

On the day before Thanksgiving, I met with some current IMBA students that I had met in Vienna back in March (they are doing the exact same program I did 2 years ago.) We met at the Carolina Coliseum to see our local, minor-league hockey team get beat by a team from Florida. This was first time I’ve ever been to a hockey game; thankfully Daniel (IMBA 2007) was able to explain the finer points of the game to me and his classmate, Antonio (who is from Puerto Rico, and had also never been to a hockey game.) What an incongruous sight, to see two teams from the Deep South playing a game that would, under natural circumstances, be impossible here.

Thanksgiving was great; I fully enjoyed the traditional feast and seeing family that I had not seen for over a year. Our last guest was my cousin from Germany, who is an au-pair here in South Carolina, unfortunately no one told her that Thanksgiving dinner takes place in the early afternoon; she arrived at 19:00—oh well, I know that feeling (lack of knowledge of local customs.)

The next day, I braved the crowds on the biggest shopping day of the year to browse the newest electronics at Best Buy and Circuit City. That evening I met two of my former classmates that still live in Columbia, one from Bulgaria and one from Romania. It was good to exchange notes on living/visiting each other’s countries.

The next week, I finally put my bike together and went out for a ride again. The weather was unseasonably warm—24C (75F.) Now I remembered what I liked about South Carolina! However, I have really gotten out of shape, because after my usual 53km (33 mi.) loop, I was exhausted. I promised myself to get back into shape, but the weather has turned colder, and I’ve only been out on one other occasion.

Hydro project

Ever since we moved down from Ohio and my father purchased the house where I grew up for most of my life, he has wanted to harness the water that flows out of the small lake that his property is situated on. However, through the years, this idea had been forgotten until my youngest brother expressed interest in it 2 years ago. Ever since then, they have been gung-ho about it, plowing right into the excavation and building of the power plant (pictured) without researching whether it is even economically and practically feasible. They have had no electrical, mechanical, or any other kind of engineering assistance or even any kind of drawings other than the proverbial “sketch on the back of an envelope.” Despite this lack of professionalism, it looks like they will soon have a turbine spinning in the power plant very soon. A week ago Saturday, we all piled into my brother’s pickup truck and drove to the outskirts of Atlanta to pick up the rebuilt turbine and associated hardware that they had ordered from an equally “seat of the pants” micro-hydro expert. This was loaded into the pickup and a trailer (pictured), and with a minimum of verbal instruction on how to put it all together, we headed back home. My other brother and I—who have been warning them against this foolhardy scheme—are impressed that they have gotten this far, but we’re still doubtful that they will ever produce any substantial revenue from selling power back to the local electrical co-op. We see it as a source of amusement, watching them from the sidelines as they muddle through. Despite our collective electrical and mechanical expertise, we have vowed not to help them in this foolish endeavor. Never the less, we do hope they are successful, and now that looks increasingly likely.

Reverse culture shock

For the last 3 calendar years, I have spent a total of 26 months abroad. After each homecoming, I wait for the phenomena called “reverse culture shock.” However, even after not touching American soil for 16 months (except for the US embassy), I still have not experienced it. In fact I am amazed at how natural it feels to be back home; it’s almost as if I haven’t been gone. Granted I am restless, and I am looking forward to the next adventure.

The one characteristic that is unmistakably evident is that everything in America is big! Food and beverage portions are big, hence Americans are big, and therefore they drive big SUV’s (it seems no one drives a regular car anymore.) I am alarmed at how much weight I’ve gained in the past 3 weeks; I now consciously watch out for overly processed, high fat food (that, granted, tastes so good!)

Seriously, what I have found downright sickening—especially around the holidays— is this run-away consumer culture. Why do we feel compelled to listen to marketers and buy junk for ourselves and our family and friends that we don't need? Then we rent storage space, buy/build sheds, and finally, get a bigger home just to store all this junk. Granted, Americans aren't alone in this compulsion; but since Americans and (mostly young) Europeans are used to financing their lifestyle with credit cards, it is more evident here. I expect this disease to spread to other parts of the world with the expansion of consumer credit. I am thankful that my parents drilled it into us that “if you don't have the money, you don't need it!”