Glory Ho

On Tuesday, Michael and I were in Pazardjik for a small volunteer hub. We met the new American Ambassador to Bulgaria, did a little shopping, bought a cell phone, went for a run and then returned home via train. During my run,I had a crazy, scary, near-end experience with dogs. I was running with fellow volunteer Anna, down a path along the canal where we’ve run before. Junkyards, random neglected statues and monuments among rows of trees and litter-peppered water-banks. No, not picturesque, but easy to follow and follow back, with the canal there. Anyway, suddenly, I caught the eye (my first mistake) of a german-shepherd like dog a hundred yards away and he came barking and
charging toward us as though he wanted to eat us. Seriously, it was a moment of sheer panic and Anna and I just stumbled over one another not knowing which way to go (since he was coming from the side, to runstraight away would have pushed us into the water). We must have been
screaming, but I dont’ remember if I was or not. i just thought, “Oh my
god, we are going to be attacked by this dog. Like really attacked!” We’ve been told to pick up a rock and throw it at the dogs–or even pretend to throw it–but at the time, the idea of taking my eye off the dog’s teeth to look down was unthinkable. Just then, a car came up the path between the dog and us, honked his horn and we began walking and the dog retreated. Lovely.

Michael was leaving for his run about 15 minutes after me with friend
Thomas and they had the same encounter. And it’s really hard for me to
beleive, but they basically both lunged at the dog (Thomas even emitted
his own bark) and the dog retreated back, apparently scared of Michael and Thomas! You can see why this strategy simply didn’t seem logical to me or Anna!! but nevertheless I guess it works. day.

We also decided to party a bit last night. Typically, we go out to eat
with the volunteers, maybe have a drink or two, then retreat back to our
room, reading, studying, talking and content to simply listen, with open
wide windows to the partying up and down the street. But last night, we
did some bonding, laughing and hanging out in people’s rooms. It was kind
like a college dorm. Had a GREAT time, though, caught up on all the
gossip, and planned a trip to Sofia this weekend with my favorite girls
from the group. Very excited for some real girl time.

On the way home yesterday, we took the train back from Sofia around 4:15. I was doing my homework and Michael was reading our Internatioanl Newsweek that we apparently receive free once at our permanent sites. I had said, when we left, that, it sure would be nice if they said “All Aboard” sort of thing before they take off! I mean, do they really only do that in the movies? Apparently. So, because Kostenetz, where we live, is a bit further from Pazardjik than many of the other sites, PC often provides a van for us. The van takes us to Pazardjik and somteimtes returns us as well. As a rsult, we’d only returned from Pazardjik via train, from Sofia, once before. This means we’re not exactly sure how long it takes, when the stop is coming up, etc. And it’s very easy to completely forget about your destination on the train. It’s pretty comfortable, rarely full, usually has a surprisingly soothing, rhythmic bump-n-hum that will put you right to sleep. But anyway, at some point, I was like, oh, shit, “This is our stop!”. Michael had been sleeping and we scurried to gather our stuff together. But the man in our car stopped us, insisting this was not Kostanetz. So we put everything back. But it looked so familiar, and look, there was the sign! This WAS Kostenetz! Get the bags, get the bags, hurry down the hall! Come on! But about five feet from the door of the car, the train started to move. I got to the old, iron step-swivel handle and I managed to get it open and eyed the beginning blur of cement and railroad ties begin to scoot by (very slowly, these trains do not go very
fast). I was leaning forward, of course, rather amused and probably
subconsciously happy about the drama!! And of course I was thinking; They
ALWAYS do this in the movies! It looks so easy–they only wind up with a
few bruises! It did look terribly difficult to make a decent landing but,
surely, I could make it, right? It’s at this point that from behind me, I
hear Michael scream “Andrea, do NOT jump off!” , And of course, I don’t
jump. But what’s better, the rail employees see us and motion to the
engineer to stop and they stopped the train for us! It was really cool.

So now that Michael has given you the logistic lowdown, I’ll try and provide a detailed picture.

I must remind myself, Michael er-Boudreaux (this is really hard for me to get used to–you know he has reinvented himself and this is his new name!) and I will let you know that before we even considered Peace Corps, we dreamt of living and working in a European city, but at the time, it seems not only logistically impossible (sorry to use that word again) but not so easy on the pocketbook. And what has landed in our lap? This very experience.

Sofia (pronounced SOfeea, NOT SoFEEa) is a Greek word, which translates as “wisdom” in English. I guess you could say that it’s an Eastern European capitol that’s struggling to keep up with it’s Western European sisters. While Prague was the unexplored backpacker bragging point ten years ago and now the award goes to maybe Budapest? or Zagreb?, right around 2014, look for Sofia.

Sofia is home to roughly 1.3 million people. The winding cobblestone, ubiquitous flower boxes and British-style painted street poles (don’t ask me what these are for, even in England) remind me I’m in Europe, and the familiarity of cathedrals, outdoor cafes, orange trams and trolleys, uniformed guards, black-and-gold-gated parks comfort me immediately. But the scarf-tied babas selling slabs of buffalo cheese on a bread box, and the desolation, dim bulb and dust of our apartment lobby, also maybe the train station primitivity remind me that I’m certainly not in Paris. Some monuments are carefully landscaped while others have been chipped away by graffitti, wind and apathy. We’ve heard about Irish Pubs and Indian restaurants, art galleries and book bazaars, but then there is also the matter of bus schedules, which, according to recommendation, are not printed, so the best idea is to take a picture of the schedule and then put that up on your buulletin board at home. Sofia does have fast food restaurants and I’m ashamed to say I already ate at Subway (you should have seen how red these tomatoes were) but amazingly enough, a nice dinner out with wine is cheaper than a family bucket at KFC.

Unfortunately, it rained the first two days there. in search of an umbrella, we were so proud of ourselves for scoring one before we set out to explore. Of course, when we opened the umbrellas we realized that they were child-size. One green. One purple. So, in the rain, with our jeans rolld up to our knees, we carried little green and purple parasols around Sofia! As Boudreaux mentioned, the public transportation is amazing (run by GPS!)(important for us vehicle-challenged volunteers) the subway is now expanding and the only danger we ever hear about is pickpocketing. People tend to be less direct here–in more ways than one. Another great thing is that you can everything is in Sofia, just like any major city. Maple Syrup, peanut butter and spices, for example are not at our corner market, but we can, in fact, find them.

While there is an admittedly defeating parking problem–actually it’s not a problem for drivers, they just park on the sidewalk–this presents an obstacle course for stiletto-wearing residents and anyone who wants to, um, walk around. But with all the engineers I hear about at USAID (they hang out at the Irish Harp, I guess) maybe it will only be a few years.

And that brings me to our apartment. Sunlit, tiny, on the fourth floor (no elevator, but remember we only have two bags, no boxes!) and maybe 100 yards from a fresh-fruit-vegetable-pasta-liquor-milk corner market, it’s terribly cute. It’s furnished of course, so, not only does it have the charm of french doors, an arch, exposed radiators and built-in linen cupboards, but there’s vintage furniture, chocolate-brown and round-edged like that antique radio you’ve seen on Broadway, a full length french mirror with white flower detail reminiscent of Decade (more Broadway shopping) middle-eastern style pillows and cushions for lounging and a balcony! So it has four rooms, really kitchen/couch/table area, bedroom/living area and bathroom. Remember it’s small, though. We have maybe three burners, a toaster oven and what sort of looks like a stove, but definitely is not. We’ll have to distill all of our water, our fridge is maybe a little bigger than my dorm fridge (remember Mom and Dad) and there IS a washer–quite a bonus. No dryer–have yet to see one here in Bulgaria. Hello clothespins! Our apartment is also quite close to everything or so we’re told–the tram, the cathedral, loads of restaurants, two parks, my work, etc.

What else about Sofia–well, the mountains, with hiking, ten dollar lift tickets and climbing are only a short hour or so away. (Yes, please don’t remind us how similar this sounds to Denver!) People, of course, party all night long and nothing really happens until around 11.

There is also, though I’m sure this is not unique, a yellow-brick road or “street paved with gold”. How cool is that?

I must give Michael the credit for this title. . .

And just as he begins to get his grip, I believe I may be losing mine. Indeed, it’s a little frightening to realize that we will be here for more than two years. But, of course, this is the whole point. Peace Corps is a very deft trickster. We thought we were prepared for anything. . .anything! and yet our life is still full of surprises. And fleas. And stray german shepherds. And 10-hour weddings. (No kidding, Dad. There’s no way you would have lasted. And we left early!) Indeed, we have somewhat lost control–Michael likens it to a ride at Disneyworld. Once you’re on the boat, there’s really no joystick, exit or bathroom break (not that you would want to hit the public restroom–we’re talking Kam’s quality here, folks). You just sort of go with it. Look there are some pirates! Watch out–a crazy Bulgarian driver (pothole avoidance takes priority over pedestrian/runner safety here–it’s by far our biggest risk). And there–it’s a group assignment for Peace Corps–but what are they doing still at the cafe–they’ve been there for hours!!). What’s happening now? We’re doing a traditional Bulgarian dance–step step step kick kick step step step kick kick. And what’s that I see on TV? Oh it’s Friends with Bulgarian not dubbed, but spoken over the real voices. (Of course, here’s where my collection of rerun memories finally comes in handy–I’ve seen this one and I already know what happens!) On our left is birthday party–they’re beginning with salami, cheese and pepperoni. Notice that everyone gets a small cup of Rakia (homemade liquor) and a ‘chaser’ of Fanta or Coke. And everyone has what us American’s might consider a small plate. In fact, this is the only plate they will receive. (a nifty trick–Bulgarians are, for the most part, quite slim) But, we’ll circle back to them later. Please turn your attention to the right now where you’ll see a family riding through town in a car. Let me affirm that your eyes are not playing tricks on you–there is no car seat in that vehicle for the baby and yes, they just ran that stop sign. (Stop signs, which are in English, seem visible only to foreigners here. We don’t know why.) Straight ahead now, you’ll see a runner. Doesn’t seem like a big deal, does it, but mark my words, the people she or he passes will stare at them in confusion and slight suspicion. (no worries, we are foreigners after all). Remember that dinner party–well, an hour has passed and those people are still eating (not even close to finishing) their salami, cheese and pepperoni. Some are smoking (inside, at the table) and some are listening. Few seem to be talking. I guess the people are more interested in each other than they are in the food. A good sign, I’d say. Maybe four or five hours later this same group of people will still be sitting, (no mingling really occurs) nibbling at their main dish, when they finally sing Happy Birthday in English (yes, it’s that universal).

Our ride is over for the day, (I must run up to Michaels’ before heading home) but for us, Bulgarialand is open every day. Tomorrow will be a new adventure.

What’s strange is that while the differences are many, they are few when compared to the similarities. We’re all humans–each typically seeking love, maybe some freshly-picked raspberries, a soft blanket, good health and a caring family.

So, besides Bulgarian, what are we doing? Well, every week, we have a Community Skills project, a Home Skills Project and a Language Assignment, along with frequent trips to Pazardjik and Plovdiv (1-2 hours away) and Sofia for safety classes, NGO seminars, project process lessons and admin tasks. For last week’s Community Skills projects, we had to speak with the Mayor (as it ended up, another director, as he was occupied) to discover what services the Municipality handled as well as their projects, community partners, government relations, strategies, elections and hierarchical structure. We then wrote a short, two page report on what we learned. This week, we must organize and prepare for a community meeting–create logistics, an agenda, invitations and decide who should attend and develop a topic. For our Home Skills project last week, we learned about our home–the boiler, the fuses, the appliances, the household chores, the plumbing, how to pay the bills, etc. and reported back to the teacher in Bulgarian. This week, we must interview both young and old Bulgarians to discover their hopes and fears and report on this. In addition,we will interview the Polizia here in town so we establish a relationship with the Kostenets authority. Coming up are a cooking assignment, our big meeting and much more.