It’s Monday morning and I am wide awake as I sip a coffee in my lively hotel lobby. I’m waiting for Pedro to get here so we can start our work day (he went to Slovenia this weekend and is driving back this morning). This past weekend was a semi-long one in Croatia; there was a national holiday on Thursday, so Pedro gave me permission to fly to Bulgaria that day to visit two of my fellow trainees, Slavy and Mwongola! Needless to say my Thursday morning flight through Budapest was an unenjoyable one, as Pedro and I had been out CELEBRATING the night before because I made consultant! (much more to come on that later!)
Slavy – who is from Bulgaria – and Mwongola – from California – picked me up at the airport in Sofia, the capital city of Bulgaria. I immediately felt a difference in the culture, atmosphere, and comfort level. Bulgaria has a long, suppressed history – the Bulgarians were basically the Turks’ slaves for 5 centuries, and after World War II became a communist state in the Eastern Bloc. Slavy was two years old when the communist regime fell, but felt the repression throughout her entire childhood as anarchy became the norm. Now the country is under a parliamentary democracy, but remains completely corrupt. The normalcy and functionality that we take for granted in the United States simply doesn’t exist in Bulgarians’ lifestyle. Street signs don’t make sense, nor do road lanes; radio stations don’t function most places and nicely-paved sidewalks and clean building facades are nonexistent. I was too excited to see my friends to have any time to feel unsafe or culture-shocked, but Mwongola said it took him a good 3 weeks to not get pissed at every Bulgarian who shook their head yes and nodded their head no (Bulgaria is the only country where this occurs).
After a trip to the American and German embassy (it was still their work day and they had to pick up some documents for their project), we headed back to their chic hotel downtown and immediately set out on foot for dinner. A five-minute walk brought us to an amazing outdoor restaurant that is “sooo typical Bulgarian”. The waiter greeted us with huge loaves of bread and spices – “we always greet our guests with a batch of warm bread and traditional Bulgarian spice; now who wants rakia?” Rakia is the typical alcohol in the Balkan region (very popular in Croatia as well), which tastes like licorice vodka. I try to like it and always pretend I do, hoping eventually I will acquire a taste for it, but honestly it is 100% disgusting. We ordered some anyway, as well as a “traditional Bulgarian salad” and our various meals. They all had hilarious names, and under each order a badly-translated description of exactly how the chef prepares the meal attempts to lure you to order it. For example, one meal was “Rabbit with Expired Game License” and Slavy ordered “Mrs. Foxey’s Female Chicken dish”. I opted for stuffed paprika, and after some rakia and house beers enjoyed a wonderful meal. Full and tired, we called it a night after one more trip to a local bar, as we had to wake up the next morning to work from our hotel.
The next day, we were trying to figure out how to spend our weekend together, and Slavy casually chirped in, “why don’t we visit Greece?” – WHAT? GREECE? It’s close to Bulgaria? And we have a car? Nothing could change my mind. After numerous work phone calls and emails from the hotel, we wrapped up the workday and hopped in the car to head south. We stopped in Slavy’s hometown, Sandanski, for dinner. Driving through the place where Slavy grew up was even more of an alarm – ramshackled apartment buildings, uprooted sidewalks, tons of barefoot children running around…meanwhile Slavy is in the front seat, as cheerful as she always is, proclaiming how much she loves her hometown. Her parents were waiting for us outside and her mother came running down the cement staircase of the non-insulated, fading building to greet us with warm hugs and kisses. She ushered us inside to meet Slavy’s father, grandmother, and younger sister, and immediately directed us to the kitchen table, where platters of food were waiting for our arrival. Slavy’s whole family sat and watched as we helped ourselves to meatball soup, Shapska salad (tomatoes, cucumbers, herbs, and tons of feta cheese), and meat patties. All “very typical Bulgarian”. When I didn’t take a meat patty right away the grandmother became nervous I was a vegetarian, and the father kept commenting on how we weren’t eating enough, despite grabbing seconds and thirds of everything. Oh yea, and her family doesn’t speak a lick of English, so all the while I was trying to thank them and attempt pleasantries and they would just smile and shake their heads (meaning yes, yes) as Slavy attempted to translate 5 conversations at once. We were eager to head to Greece, and knew we would be staying in Sandanski the following night, so we said our lost-in-translation goodbye’s and hit the road. I was ecstatic to reach the Greek border – after passing it you could immediately notice a difference in the road quality, the radio station selection, the signage, and the preserved landscape – and Greece is the country that is supposed to be one of the “worst in Europe right now”, which just shows how the media solely cares to highlight European Union countries’ problems, rarely touching on the difficulties of less-developed countries in the region.
After somehow finding our hostel with no GPS and no map, we hit the town of Thessaloniki, the second largest city of Greece and the capital of Macedonia. Greeks don’t consider Macedonia a real country, so depending on whom you ask, we could have been in Greece or we could have been in Macedonia! We woke up the next morning to a nice breakfast on the back terrace of our hostel, where newly-born kittens roamed beneath our feet and Greek music filled the air. We then walked through town, where large, modern buildings juxtaposed thousand-year old Greek ruins. We took a short bus tour as well, and then drove even more south to check out the Greek coast. We definitely were not in the most pristine beaches of Greece because we were so far north, but the sandy beaches were exactly what we needed – we sunbathed the day away and enjoyed frappes (cold Greek coffee drinks) and people-watching. The amount of Greeks enjoying the beach, happily ordering numerous beers left me wondering just how hard the crisis has hit the Greeks – they should take a trip to Bulgaria or Bosnia and then talk about decrease in quality of life…
I was sad to leave, but eventually we headed back to Thessaloniki to grab a “truly Greek meal”, and luckily found some locals who led us to a hole-in-the-wall Greek restaurant, where we indulged in Greek salads, potatoes with yogurt sauce, stuffed peppers, and tzatziki spread. Full to the brim, we arrived to Slavy’s house ready to shower and rest, but her mother had spent all day cooking us another meal! Of course we had to eat it and enjoy it, as she had made Slavy’s favorite Bulgarian dish – we each received our own pot of vegetables, ham, spices, cheeses, and egg that takes hours to cook and is a true delicacy in Bulgaria. It was probably one of the best foods I have had abroad, and we made room to enjoy it, thanking her profusely for her time and effort in trying to make us feel at home in this outlandish country of Bulgaria. The family shares one bathroom in the entire apartment, and when I was given a towel to shower, I was confused on where to go because I had not seen a shower when I had gone to the bathroom before, but they led me there anyways, along with a pair of clunky shoes to wear “so I wouldn’t slip”. I realized that the bathroom WAS the shower, and I had difficulty in not getting the toilet, sink, mirror, toothbrushes, etc. completely soaked! The family did not seem to mind/notice, and gave me one of their few bedrooms for myself. Staying with Slavy’s family was a truly eye-opening cultural experience; her parents were some of the nicest people I have ever met, which I could immediately grasp despite not being able to communicate a word to them. We walked around Slavy’s downtown the next morning, and she pointed out her elementary school, the “dance club they would go to when they were 13”, and the numerous cafes/random shops she would visit when she and her friends felt like skipping school. Truly living a different culture, even if it was just for one night, was an amazing and unforgettable experience, and makes me grateful to have friends like Slavy!
We headed back to Sofia and did a little bit of last-minute sight-seeing in the city center (churches, government buildings, the normal) before I was dropped off at the airport. Another life-changing weekend down, who knows how many more to go...
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