Dress-up Tuesday

Tuesday morning we went to a conference at the Hilton—which by the way is very nice, and like the American Embassy, can make you forget you are in Bulgaria (except that most of the event was in Bulgarian—we listened to the [barely tolerable] simultaneous translation on cordless receivers [IR, not RF!] The occasion was the launch of CEED, an organization conceived to educate Bulgarian executives/business owners, but that’s not really important; I was told that basically the same people show of to all these type conferences regardless of the topic.

After an excellent (free) lunch at the Hilton and obligatory jokes about Paris (poor guy, after living down that name throughout childhood, this silly hotel heiress had to go and ruin the name), we still had to go to language class that was postponed from for us.

Andrew and Maury had invited us to go with them to the opera that evening, and one by one, we had decided to join them. You know I’m not a big fan, but for 10 leva ($6.20) I couldn’t say no—besides I was already dressed up, and what else would I do: watch TV & surf the Internet.

The opera house is relatively small and quite dusty, but I fully enjoyed the experience. The opera was Puccini’s Tosca. I should have found a quick summary about it first on the Internet, but between the Bulgarian translation and Andrew & Maury’s quick explanation I was able to follow the story.

Foretaste of Winter

Yesterday, and even more today, the weather has turned noticeably colder—not freezing, but certainly a hint of what is to come. Leaves are already turning colors on some trees. It is unmistakable where this is all heading…brrr!

Below: Ryan snapped this picture in Assenovgrad on Saturday. How confident would you be taking a taxi service called Titanic?!

Sauna on wheels

For the umpteenth weekend, we headed out of Sofia. This time it was an ‘optional’ excursion with Doriana to here hometown of Assenovgrad and Plovdiv. We had to wake up at an ungodly hour of the morning to catch an 8:00 bus (I know that’s not early, but we’ve been spoiled that way lately.) The bus was a humongous, double-decker job that you wouldn’t think would be able to navigate the narrow street of Bulgaria. The bus company’s response to higher fuel cost seemed to be to turn off the A/C and to go slower; I don’t think the driver ever broke 100 km/h. Never the less the Saturday morning ride to Assenovgrad was not too bad; although not comfortable enough to catch up on our sleep deficit of the past few days (out past midnight Thursday [Adam the Peace Corp guy’s last day in Bulgaria] and Friday [Tom Higgin’s {MBAEC alum} ‘end of summer’ party.] The title of this post refers to this afternoon’s ride back to Sofia. We decided sit on the right side of the bus to avoid the sun while traveling west; problem was I sat directly inline with a sunroof. I was the only one in the bus who had to wear sunglasses, but there was no one on the bus who would have allowed me to close this, the only source of fresh air for the second level, nor would I have wanted to experience any worse stifling, BO-laden air. First thing each of us did upon getting home this evening was to take a shower.

Saturday’s highlight was having a three-hour, four-course lunch at Doriana’s parents’ apartment. The food was incredible and her parents were a lot of fun to talk to despite the language barrier. Afterward, to work of the excesses of the afternoon, we strolled (several km, uphill) to the remnants of the fort and church set on a precipice over the valley leading to Greece—excellent location: you could probably just roll boulders down the hill onto enemy troops coming through the valley.

Sunday morning we took a short train ride to Plovdiv. (I snapped picture above with my head out of the window, then quickly ducked back inside so as not to get smacked in the face by the overgrown bushes/trees—what this country need more than anything is lawnmowers, weed eaters, bush-hogs, and such!) [Insert Top Secret line/joke here.] Oh, by the way, Assenovgrad is the wedding dress capital of Bulgaria; they have tons of bridal shops here. I couldn’t resist getting a picture with my ‘Bulgarian bride’—enjoy.

In Plovdiv (3rd largest city and former capital of Bulgaria) we climbed to the top of a hill to see a hazy overview of the city and the Alyosha monument—a statue of a Russian soldier that survived the ‘changes’ of 1989. However the highlight was a black lab that would chase a tennis ball down 100+ stairs and then come bounding back up to his owner only to have to do it all over again—good boy! Later we saw parts of the old town and parts of two Roman amphitheaters. I really liked Plovdiv; I actually think it is nicer than Sofia in a lot of ways. We had lunch at about 1:30pm and then boarded the sauna on wheels for our ride back home at 3:00pm.

SNAFU

The weekend’s events did not come off without a hitch as my previous post might have suggested. First of all, on Friday, I lost my camera. It was my old camera, so I wasn’t too worried; I just wish I had the picture of the “fortress of solitude” (embassy) that I had surreptitiously made. The good news is that today Ryan emailed me to tell me that someone in our party picked up; here is the picture.

Saturday morning we were all supposed to meet in front of a certain building at exactly 8:15 in order to catch a tram to the bus station to catch a certain once-a-day bus. However, at the prescribed time only Ryan and I were there. Our guide—Svetla—was late, Paris was in the wrong place, and we never heard from Julia. We missed the bus we intended to take, but found alternate routing (that was better anyway) and by 10:00 we were on our way, but sans Julia. She was having problems with here phone, and despite various efforts to contact her and have her come via alternate means, she was not able to join us in Rila. Lesson learned: make sure you know where the meeting place is and that your phone works. Actually it could have been me; first of all I didn’t set my alarm clock but woke up at 7:00 anyway (al la Kramer), and my phone was locked because I turned it off at the embassy and didn’t know the PIN.

Just now, I went by NDK (National Palace of Culture—just across the street from my place) to witness a fire fighters/emergency rescue demonstration. That's the great thing about this location—there is always something going on. BTW, note that the new Heineken billboard (see August 11 post) already has graffiti on it.

Rila Revisited

For the third time now, we visited the Rila Mountains. This time, however, we went west to the “nature park” which is owned mostly by the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and is surrounded on three sides by Rila National Park proper. The main attraction is the famous Rila Monastery, which was originally built in the 1300’s before the Ottoman invasion of Bulgaria. As such, it played an invaluable role in preserving Bulgarian culture and identity throughout 500 years of Ottoman occupation (or “the yoke” as they call here in the Balkans.)

Besides the monastery, there are other chapels and shrines throughout this area linked by trails that would have to be characterized as pilgrimage paths rather than hiking trails, since—to this day—Bulgarians still go visit these sites despite, for the most part, not being very religious. We visited a cave where John of Rila supposedly lived some 1100 years ago. It’s a real tight squeeze; as the tradition goes, supposedly, either you must be pure of spirit to pass or you are absolved of all your sins if you do make it. Architecturally/mechanically it does filter out the gluttons, which—as I have probably mentioned before—is not a big problem for most Bulgarians. At another shrine (pictured) people write their prayers/wishes on a scrap of paper and stuff in the cracks of the rock—al la Wailing Wall. It makes for a strange juxtaposition: ancient cultural/religious sites set in the middle of the natural beautify of the Rila Mountains—imagine a string of actively-used churches in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Svetla, our ‘cross cultural’ guide, is trying to expose us to as many different experiences as she can think of (and we are convinced, trying to shock us,) so this time we travel strictly by public transportation. Granted the buses were old, gritty, hot, and slow; but we remained unfazed. One interesting thing I noticed at the front of the bus above the windshield were football (soccer) stickers, pin-up girls, and iconography of Jesus and Mary all side by side!

Fortress of Solitude

Friday all four of us went the monthly Marine party at the American Embassy; this time it was a BBQ—lots of food for 10 leva. Met some interesting and high-ranking diplomats/embassy staff, but the most interesting observation would have to be about the massive new, ultra-secure compound that is the American Embassy as of two years ago. Its so far removed from its surrounding you could easily imagine you were back in the states. The guards let us in only after Ryan friend Catherine vouched for us and then we had to leave our phones and cameras at the entrance. The floors are covered in 12" x 12" tiles, the plumbing and electrical fixtures were American (they used US-standard 220 outlets throughout, which of course don’t fit either European or American appliance, meaning an electrician has to retrofit every power cord.) I wondered if they even used any Bulgarian cement!

Sozopol

Last week we found out that we have a long weekend; September 6th is “Unification Day” in Bulgaria. So to take advantage of the 4-day weekend, we left Friday afternoon by bus across Bulgaria. Half of the trip was on a nice, modern 4-lane expressway, but after Plovdiv it’s two-lane until Burgas (a port city.) En route we were delayed at least an hour due to an accident; it looked like a empty car carrier had tried to overtake some traffic around a corner and had no other choice but to ditch his truck into the trees to avoid a head on collision. After clearing this our bus also began passing long lines of cars (as well as being passed) it is a wonder there are not more wrecks along this stretch. We arrive at our destination a little before midnight.

Sozopol is a quaint fishing village turned resort. It is well preserved/restored and not too touristy (at least the old town—the portion situated on the rocky point jutting out into the Black Sea where we stayed. Thanks to Delcho for clueing us into this location—we would have gone to Varna (think: Myrtle Beach) otherwise. I assumed we would see and hear a lot of (British) English and German since they are represent the highest precentage of visitors to Bulgaria’s Black Sea coast, but apparently Sozopol has not been discovered by foreign tourists yet.

The first picture showcases the rocky coast—which is actually relatively young since seawater found its way through the Bosporus Straight flooding the Black Sea only several thousand years ago. This picture is taken from across the bay—a new part of Sozopol. On the opposite side of the peninsula there is a spot where you can cliff dive from 12.8 meters; Delcho’s friend Stefan demonstrated, and I wanted to go back and do it later, but never could find anyone to ‘spot’ me. The next picture is of the guesthouse where we stayed for 4 nights (or days in Paris' case.) This is the typical—and famous—style of old builings in Sozopol. Below that is our host tending to his fishing nets. They spoke Bulgarian, and only a smattering of English, German, & Spanish. However, between that and the little Bulgarian we knew, we actually got along very well—we talked about music, travel, etc. Best of all, our rooms were only 10 leva per night—I don’t how they can continue to exist with those prices. The final picture of that of the beach; if you blow it up and look real carefully you might even see some top1essness!

I didn’t really do much but sit in the sun (water & wind was a little to cool for me) and read. I finished Balkan Ghosts by Robert D. Kaplan. It is an excellent primer on the history of this region from Hungary to Greece. It recounts continuous cycle of wars, recriminations, atrocities, dictatorships, and mutual hatred that is ubiquitous in Balkan history. The author explores the ethnic, political, and religious influences of the last 600+ years beginning with the Byzantine Empire’s rule that segued into Turkish oppression, all the way up to Milosevic and a prediction of the events of the late 1990’s. Really explains a lot!

Monday night we went to a Jazz concert that was part of the greater Apolonia Festival taking place in Sozopol this week with Delcho and friends. You know I'm not a big fan, but it was interesting—jazz with an eastern influenced, and the ticket was only 6 leva.

Tuesday evening we took a bus to Burgas in order to catch the overnight train back to Sofia. Actually got some sleep in the bunks before arriving at 5:30. Slept another good 2 hours in my own bed and then got up for language class at 9:30.

This weekend we are off on another excursion—the Rila Monastery. I know it sounds like I’m having too much fun with too little work. Now you know why I chose to do this.

Your paper work is in order

Oh, I nearly forgot; Friday before we left, we went to the police station for the last time (this year at least) to pick up our “lichna karta.” I am now officially a (temporary) Bulgarian, entitled to all the prevailing discounts!

Bachelor refrigerator

I ate dinner out tonight—meat, potato, soup, bread, and a soft drink—all for 2.55 leva ($1.55.) Granted, it was nothing fancy, but even at a fairly nice restaurant it’s nearly impossible to break $10 including drinks. Needless to say, I am not cooking for myself as witnessed by my stereotypical bachelor refrigerator. Inventory: olives, mustard, remnants of a 2 liter Coke, and some pickled vegetables—which, amazingly, are actually pretty good, but useful only as a side dish. I just can’t see dropping 20-30 leva to stock up the fridge and pantry when a) I’m not much of a cook, and b) eating out is so cheap. I’ve even given up my morning Nutella sandwich in favor of a 1-lev flinzen.

Hydro-fest

Friday morning we had to come to “class” packed and ready to go because right after lunch we boarded a 30-passenger bus for the ride to Govedartzi for the VEGA-BTD weekend retreat. Near our destination we came across the film crew for “The Contract” again. Apparently they were shooting a police chase scene; Ryan saw two American (Ford LTD) police cars—no celebrity sightings though. We arrived at “Djambazki Family” guesthouse where everyone immediately took a nap (we stayed out a little too late Thursday night despite having a test on Friday morning.)


That evening we received some Bulgarian cooking instruction; most notably how to make the Bulgarian national salad: shopska. Julia and Ryan cut up tomatoes and cucumbers while our host demonstrated how to roast peppers on a metal sheet over an open fire. Afterward we had to peel the peppers which Paris and Dimi then cut into the salad. I cut onions until my eyes watered, and our host performed the final and most important step: grating a mountain of sirine cheese over each portion. Technically, Shopska salad is just tomatoes and cucumbers covered in sirine (without the peppers and onions.)

Saturday morning we had a breakfast of palichinkas with homemade blueberry and wild strawberry jam. (Incidentally I discovered a palichinka stand 4 blocks from my apartment; I suspect I will be having flinzen for breakfast quite often now.) After breakfast we set off for our hike in the Rila National Park. For the first few km we shared the trail with people participating in an orienteering race; they were running around looking puzzled with their maps, compasses, and flags. The actual Botanical trail we had come for started about a mile later. We had our very own botanist, Dimi, to point out the objects of interest; which was necessary because—despite being paid for by USAID—the signs were in Bulgarian only. At the top of our climb we had a bag lunch overlooking the beautiful glacial valley below (note how it is U-shaped.)

Our hike ended at the “chalet” Вада—it is actually more accurately described as a hut—where our bus was parked. While waiting for the rest of the group to arrive I discovered that this way station had its own little hydroelectric plant. At first I thought this little a-frame barely 6 feet high was a pump house, but upon noticing a 6" penstock going in one end and tailwater flowing out of the front, I immediately realized what was going on. For Arno & Simon Froese’s sake—but you're going to have to click on the links to see the picures—I stuck my camera through a gap in the door to get an interior shot showing the turbine, some pulleys and belts, but unfortunately not the generator. I followed the penstock up the hill to find a simple but effective diversion, control structure and dam. Offhand, I would say they have almost a 100 feet head.


House Djambazki is apparently renowned for its food in the area and I can see why base on Saturday evening’s dinner. After the obligatory shopska salad and Rakia, I had probably the best soup I have ever tasted and—as the entrée—an exceptionally delicious fish—and I’m not a big fan of whole fish. These particular fish come from the high (2000+ meter) lakes in the park; Paris commented that living at that altitude these fish are more bird than fish! All evening we were regaled with Bulgarian folk music from the surrounding residents in the village; although this was organized (and paid) for our benefit, we could tell these folks were having a great time getting together, drinking Rakia, and making music—a kind of jam session.

Sunday morning we again head to the park and hiked up another trail this time ending at another “hut” situated at the base of two majestic peaks. Unlike the previous day, there were tons of people here including some old folks who had managed to pick their way up the rock-strewn path and, while eating their lunch, busted out in traditional songs—specifically about Rila and the Maliovistza peak which would alternately hide and reveal itself behind a curtain of clouds—actually quite stunning.

After returning to House Djambazki to pick up Aideen (VEGA-BTD director), her 2-month old boy, and our bags, we headed back to Sofia with a stop at an artsy craft store in Samakov, which—as imagined—we guys found boring, but the women loved. We were probably all a little sore from all the hiking, but it resulted in a good nights rest.

Again, Ryan has an excellent account of last week's activities on his blog; click here to read about these events and more from his perspective (and see another picture of me!)