Glory Ho

Trip to the Police Station On Foot: 16 minutes
Figuring out the Right Window: 4 minutes
Waiting in What Can Only Be Described as a Mob While Strange Chinese Guy Breaths on Your Hair: 25 minutes
Waiting at Window While Pink-Sweatered Bulgarian Women Disappears: 11 minutes
Retrieving Your Lichna Karta: 5 minutes
Knowing You’ll Never Have to Return to The Sofia Police Station: Timeless

Some people are content with public confusion, chaos and disorder. For everyone else, there’s America.

*Lichna Karta is the Bulgarian equivalent of a Driver’s LicenseYou might say that the DMV is not your favorite errand either. But let me assure you that there is really no comparison. This was my fourth trip to the police station over the course of three weeks. All for one purpose.

However, I would like to take this opportunity, back-handed as it may seem, to say a good word about the BG. Change, thank goodness for Bulgaria, is inevitable. This Lichna Karta experience, compared with last year’s, was a considerable improvement. Friendlier. Less time consuming. Another clerk (on an earlier visit) was downright helpful. The pink-sweatered lady also seemed to have a sense for who had been waiting in line since birth and who had used what we call “cane charity” to reach the counter. Yes, my friends. Customer service is slowly trickling in.

Business is blooming through the concrete, too. Not exactly a tree growing in Brooklyn, but growth. Definite growth.

The Kenar sandwich place where I get a weekly helping of corn and mayonnaise salad, tomato sauce and white beans, all together on a sandwich, (“not a very nice combination,” even my Bulgarian friend commented) was remodeled to include an automatic sliding door, increased behind the counter organization, retro signage and even a couple of decorative plants!

Recently, the fruit and vegetable stand, run by my buddy Veli, was nothing but a 2 x 5 space of cracked glass, sagging shelves and bent boxes. She now carries almond-stuffed green olives an kiwi. See the photo of her new store below.

There’s even a new airport with overpriced bottled water, toilet paper in the bathroom and electronic grids with flight information. Everything you might expect!

Technology. While moving. Last time we took a Bulgarian train, en route to Serbia, the customs guys came around with a little mini-computer, and they were somehow actually punching our passport numbers into some kind of SYSTEM (!) which was somehow connected to some other kind of SYSTEM (!) which determined our lawfulness. Impressive.

The list of goods unavailable in Sofia is shrinking. Since we have arrived, our non-stop (24 hour grocery store with three aisles) has begun carrying fish sauce, coconut milk, bean sprouts, Mexico-imported (actually spicy) salsa, soy milk, tofu and peanut butter which tastes crunchy, sugary and very American. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MONUMENTAL THIS IS? The big commercial grocery store is looking more and more like Safeway every day, too. They even have avocados and tortillas. Warms my heart.

Sometimes, however, I cringe at America’s exports. Basically, anything useful, mass produced, profitable and making every suburb identical and identity-less, is now a form of excitement in Sofia. For example, in the last year: A three-story mall including food courts with multi-continental choices, bathrooms which can hold a hundred, and a twelve-plex cinema. I tend to steer clear.

Bulgaria’s been thinking about the law, too. While rules can really suck, this country could use a few. There’s been slow and bittersweet progress against pirated music and movies. I admit, we participate. Even my Bulgarian friend, founder of Art Group Haide, a club which supports young filmmakers, insists that “because no one can afford to rent movies or attend cinema on a regular basis, without free downloading, we’d be stuck watching only Bulgarian films.”

But the government is making it harder. A few of our favorite sites have changed (and taken away) their tune. The owner of one, Data.bg was arrested. Bulgarians don’t like it one bit. They even staged a protest. Slightly ridiculous of course–a little like American immigrants protesting about having to be legal—but nonetheless, progress. Protests mean Bulgarians suspect that their own actions may have a direct impact on change.

Oh yeah, that whole EU thing. It’s part of the reason we initially chose Eastern Europe. An EU transition sounded exciting, dynamic, full of possibility. That wasn’t exactly the atmosphere we encountered. Most Bulgarian people were as excited about the EU as they were, say. . um. . . well, most Bulgarians don’t actually get excited. (Michel and Ani you are different!) Sure there’s no immediate gratification, but long term, baby, long term! There will be benefits. Like a parent, in response to a negative teenager, I want to say: “It’s for your own good. Really. You’ll thank us for this one day.”

Charles Darwin suggests that “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” While that may be true, I believe those who not only respond, but accept and even roll out a red carpet for change will not simply survive, but thrive. It’s taken some time and tears, but slowly and surely, Bulgaria is being charmed by the wiles of change. I’m happy for them.