I don’t think any description of Bulgarian life is complete without the inclusion of Chalga.
Known also by the more euphemistic term “pop-folk,” chalga is a style of music that, as far as I know, is unique to Bulgaria. Usually you’ll find it while flipping through the channels (somewhere between CityTV, the Voice, and MTV Europe) to find a half naked girl that only goes by one name dancing provocatively to a strange mix of techno and an array of Bulgarian, Turkish, and Roma folk instruments. Despite the inclusion of folk instruments, the connection to actual folk is weak at best, and I’m pretty sure it’s referred to as pop folk just to give it some sort of artistic credibility, which it rarely ever receives anyway. Lyrics almost invariably include at least one mention of “Tvoito tialo” (your body) and “Surtseto mi” (my heart), and either “Iskam teb” or “Iskash li?” (“I want you” and “Do you want?” respectively).
During my time here in Bulgaria, I’ve developed somewhat of a love-hate relationship with chalga in all its forms. While it could possibly be the most annoying and vacuous of all music forms, it’s something uniquely Bulgarian and a big part of life here. The children here love it (just as children in the States grew up with similarly horrible pop), but strangely the love for chalga knows no age. Sometimes while eating dinner or going na gosti, your hosts will leave a tv on looping chalga videos. This includes babas. It’s hard to say if it’s better to let them know that you don’t like it or that it’s destroying any and all culture in this country, or to give in and embrace the horribleness.
In most situations, I’ve gone with the latter.
Since I’ve touched down in Bulgaria, I’ve attended a chalga concert in a broken down stadium in Dupnitsa, danced kyuchek with coworkers at a Christmas party and on New Years, bought a chalga CD from what I have dubbed the “chalga salesman” at the pazar, and (since moving to Preslav) woken up to a steady stream of chalga hits blasted through my wall every morning. I have dedicated a chunk of my time at the orphanage every week to dance to some awesomely bad chalga songs with the kids in the tv room.
Since seeing is believing, I’ll share some of my favorites from my time here so far. Click the titles to check out the video:
Djena - "Shte Te Spechelia" Translated to “I will win you,” this is your typical break-up song, only with the inclusion of an electric form of some sort of folk instrument (could be a horn, gaida, fiddle... who knows). The video is amazing for a few reasons: When her butler informs her with a handwritten note “He now is with her!” Djena begins a transformation to win her boyfriend back. From what I can gather, these changes include giving up smoking (because the other girl smokes), giving up lipstick (because the other girl wears lipstick) and giving up her car in an attempt to get the other girl away from her boyfriend (I think). You’ll just have to watch for yourself, but beware the “twist” at the end.
Preslava – “Novata Ti.” (“The New You”) This very well might be my kids’ current favorite song, evidenced by the fact that they scream it at the top of their lungs whenever it comes on. The song features what actually sounds like a catchy mandolin riff, but that’s nullified by the pop beat under it and throaty singing. I’m sure something happens in the video, but for the most part it’s just a vehicle for Preslava to pose provocatively in a nice hotel. I think she’s stealing some other girl’s man?
Nelina – “Nyama Nashi, Nyama Vashi.” (“Not Ours, Not Yours”) This singer is a real folk crossover, and I know this only because I watch the Planeta Folk channel (all Bulgarian folk, all the time) every day and saw her singing folk songs. Therefore this song might actually qualify to be called "pop-folk" as it has an actual tinge of Bulgarian folk music to it, and is sung by a folk singer. As for the video, I'm still just trying to figure out what is going on. I think a few girls are fighting over a guy. But then there are some guys checking out some girls. A soccer ball gets involved. Then I think everyone dumps each other and they all start a dance party. That smile sure is enchanting though...
Ustata – “Male Male.” (“Male” is an expression here in Bulgarian used to express disbelief, sort of like “Oh my god”) This is the rap side of chalga. As a matter of fact, it might not even be considered chalga, but this guy does collaborate with chalga stars very often. I place this song in the category, however, for its use of a Balkan Brass band, its ridiculous lyrics, over the top video, and performer with just one name.
And of course no description of chalga would be complete without mentioning AZIS. Azis is somewhat of an anomaly in the world of Bulgarian culture - a large, cross-dressing, Roma (what English speakers typically call "gypsy") singer. Somehow the unlikely combination of all these factors combined with a wildly flamboyant personality has turned him into one of the most famous people in all of Bulgaria. I believe he has his own tv shown now as well... Michael Palin did an interview with him on his travel show not too long ago. If you'd like to check it out, as well as get a glimpse into his music, click here.
Regardless of what you might think of chalga, it’s an inescapable force that’s here to stay. For now, I’m off to dance to some kyuchek…
Until next time…
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
So Energy
It’s been a while since I’ve posted. The camera’s still in the shop, and even though I don’t have any new pictures to share, there’s been some interesting developments around.
Since returning from the Kukeri festival at the beginning of the month, I’ve been hard at work. I’ve been trying to keep my groups together at the orphanage. I’ve been dealing with this language, dealing with failures personally and professionally. I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly I’ve been doing for the past 8 months (!). It seemed like I hadn’t made any progress with any of the kids in my math and Bulgarian group, my English groups were falling apart, and I was having a hard time reaching some kids with whom I had previously made some good progress. I was called a liar and spit on by a kid after explaining that I can’t work with every child in the orphanage all the time. Eventually I found myself buried under the seemingly sudden avalanche of all these factors. I was sapped of my desire to do much of anything, and contemplated leaving for the first time since being here.
This past week I headed to a seminar in Stara Zagora (a town in southern-central Bulgaria) focused on HIV/AIDS education, human trafficking, and life skills. We spent the better part of our days in a hotel conference room trying to absorb a big amount of information in a small time, aided only by a constant stream of free coffee and cookies. The nights however were a lot of fun, and I’m glad I got to know the town a bit more. I met some b23’s (the group before us, English teachers), who turned out to be great people. Coincidentally we met an American conductor who teaches at UMass who was in town to guest-conduct a performance of Beethoven’s 9th, which we attended and enjoyed greatly (at least I did).
I don’t know when it happened, but at some point during the week I forgot all about all the things that had been plaguing me for a while. For a brief time, at least, I just let it all go and enjoyed myself. I was finally back in the moment. I also made progress on starting some life skills activities I had wanted to do since I got here, and also moved forward with a summer camp idea that I and another volunteer are working on.
Towards the end of the seminar we read some notes that were anonymously sent to each other between the Americans and Bulgarians. For the most part, this was an extremely cheesy exercise. One of the notes, however, really affected me, and I think it will stand as one of the high points of this part of my service.
The note read, “You are so energy!”
I smiled not only at the apparent grammatical mistake, but because it was the first time in a while I had actually felt genuinely good. I felt proud and confident, and for the first time in a while truly and honestly energized and ready to jump back into site. I have ideas again. I have motivation to do them, or at least to try. I am back in the moment, and my perspective has shifted back from one of looking back on my failures so far, to looking forward at the potential in people and things around town.
Being here and in this line of work, it’s easy to focus on the negatives. It gets in your head sometimes… Makes you think twice about reaching out to that kid just one more time, about keeping the groups going or about trying a new activity. It prevents you from venturing out and meeting people, and from developing the relationships with the people you do know. Makes you question if it’s even worth it to stick around. I think it’s why so often you find people here without the desire to start projects, or the energy to try new strategies or activities with kids. Things are not like this all the time, but it’s a pretty noticeable thing most of the time.
I have always considered myself somewhat of an optimist. I’ve often tried to gravitate towards the positives in the face of failure. It was this quality that I’ve relied on so many times in my life to get through the rough patches. Similarly I’ve also tried to help others in stressful times doing the same thing. I’ve always found that this ability has been a constant source of energy. When I first got here, I tried to act as an energizing factor in my town, the Yasli, and at the orphanage by being there for people and pointing out the positives. Somewhere along the line here I lost that.
Sometimes it just takes a simple, tiny note written by a stranger to put you back on the right track.
Until next time...
Since returning from the Kukeri festival at the beginning of the month, I’ve been hard at work. I’ve been trying to keep my groups together at the orphanage. I’ve been dealing with this language, dealing with failures personally and professionally. I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly I’ve been doing for the past 8 months (!). It seemed like I hadn’t made any progress with any of the kids in my math and Bulgarian group, my English groups were falling apart, and I was having a hard time reaching some kids with whom I had previously made some good progress. I was called a liar and spit on by a kid after explaining that I can’t work with every child in the orphanage all the time. Eventually I found myself buried under the seemingly sudden avalanche of all these factors. I was sapped of my desire to do much of anything, and contemplated leaving for the first time since being here.
This past week I headed to a seminar in Stara Zagora (a town in southern-central Bulgaria) focused on HIV/AIDS education, human trafficking, and life skills. We spent the better part of our days in a hotel conference room trying to absorb a big amount of information in a small time, aided only by a constant stream of free coffee and cookies. The nights however were a lot of fun, and I’m glad I got to know the town a bit more. I met some b23’s (the group before us, English teachers), who turned out to be great people. Coincidentally we met an American conductor who teaches at UMass who was in town to guest-conduct a performance of Beethoven’s 9th, which we attended and enjoyed greatly (at least I did).
I don’t know when it happened, but at some point during the week I forgot all about all the things that had been plaguing me for a while. For a brief time, at least, I just let it all go and enjoyed myself. I was finally back in the moment. I also made progress on starting some life skills activities I had wanted to do since I got here, and also moved forward with a summer camp idea that I and another volunteer are working on.
Towards the end of the seminar we read some notes that were anonymously sent to each other between the Americans and Bulgarians. For the most part, this was an extremely cheesy exercise. One of the notes, however, really affected me, and I think it will stand as one of the high points of this part of my service.
The note read, “You are so energy!”
I smiled not only at the apparent grammatical mistake, but because it was the first time in a while I had actually felt genuinely good. I felt proud and confident, and for the first time in a while truly and honestly energized and ready to jump back into site. I have ideas again. I have motivation to do them, or at least to try. I am back in the moment, and my perspective has shifted back from one of looking back on my failures so far, to looking forward at the potential in people and things around town.
Being here and in this line of work, it’s easy to focus on the negatives. It gets in your head sometimes… Makes you think twice about reaching out to that kid just one more time, about keeping the groups going or about trying a new activity. It prevents you from venturing out and meeting people, and from developing the relationships with the people you do know. Makes you question if it’s even worth it to stick around. I think it’s why so often you find people here without the desire to start projects, or the energy to try new strategies or activities with kids. Things are not like this all the time, but it’s a pretty noticeable thing most of the time.
I have always considered myself somewhat of an optimist. I’ve often tried to gravitate towards the positives in the face of failure. It was this quality that I’ve relied on so many times in my life to get through the rough patches. Similarly I’ve also tried to help others in stressful times doing the same thing. I’ve always found that this ability has been a constant source of energy. When I first got here, I tried to act as an energizing factor in my town, the Yasli, and at the orphanage by being there for people and pointing out the positives. Somewhere along the line here I lost that.
Sometimes it just takes a simple, tiny note written by a stranger to put you back on the right track.
Until next time...
Friday, March 6, 2009
Kukeri Pics
OK I lied (Well, sort of)... As I mentioned in my previous post, my camera is currently being refurbished for future enjoyment, but I was able to salvage the Kukeri pictures and videos from my card before sending it away. Yeah!
The first round of Kukeri marching and dancing in the center.
The next group getting ready to go on...
Some really tall Kukeris...
Showing off some patriotism (this year's Kukeri coincided with the weekend of Mar. 3, the Bulgarian Independence Day)...
So... without further ado:
A scene from the sleepy town of Shiroka Luka before the festival...
The concert we went to featured some crazy horo moves...
The first round of Kukeri marching and dancing in the center.
The next group getting ready to go on...
Some really tall Kukeris...
Showing off some patriotism (this year's Kukeri coincided with the weekend of Mar. 3, the Bulgarian Independence Day)...
This guy had the best seat in the house. In his house.
Here's some video to give you a better idea of the craziness:
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Kukeri!
So over the long weekend I took the long trip back out to the beautiful Rodopi mountains. This time I traveled to the village of Shiroka Luka (about 10km from the place I went to last time), in which is located a famous folk music school. Also located there is an annual Kukeri festival, which was the main draw for the weekend, turning this sleepy mountain town of about 500 into a churning madhouse of music, dancing, and scary men running around in costumes threatening people with wooden swords.
There’s a logical explanation for all this, dating back through the ages. The closest tradition I can think of would be Halloween, which of course started as a way to scare away bad spirits. Similarly, the men behind the Kukeri masks (bizarre, hairy, freakishly tall costumes) come out and do everyone a favor every year and scare away all the bad spirits that might be lurking around just in time for spring.
The way they do it is at once terrifying (mission accomplished) and sometimes hilarious. The entry starts with the far off sound of bells being clanged together as the Kukeris rhythmically jump closer and closer. Finally, they're in the middle of the center and doing their dance in a circle and chanting, seemingly in a trance. Then the real fun starts - the Kukeri begin doing their duty and scaring the daylights out of any spirits who dare to get in the way, usually by dancing. Many of the groups had costumed manifestations of the bad spirits to illustrate that they were indeed being scared away. Included among these personifications of evil were a golden idol, impish demons, cross-dressers, and a group of lost backpackers (seriously).
The festival concluded with the costumed men triumphantly going back to the places from which they came, now loaded with wishes of “Zhiv I Zdrav” (Life and Health) from the mayor of the town and the appreciative crowd. Now that the demons had all successfully been exorcised, it was (of course) time to dance, and a 4 hour long horo commenced in the center almost immediately.
Other highlights of the weekend included a concert at the famous folklore school the day before the festival. The dancing was mind-blowingly good, and the music eardrum-blowing (but still quite impressive). It was, however, great to see what the place there is all about, and there is a lot of talent coming out of the little school. It’s also nice to see that the Bulgarians are committed to preserving the great folklore tradition in the country instead of just succumbing to the onslaught of chalga and Katie Perry. It was also, as always, nice to be with friends, and we met some new friends as well – members of the EU version of the Peace Corps (EVS – European Volunteer Service).
I promise to you that I took a ton of pictures and video. However I discovered upon returning to my place in Preslav that my camera had mysteriously broken. I’m sending it to a repair guy, but I still have the card on which all the pics are located, so hopefully I can get those out to you soon. However, it might also take up to a month, so be patient. They’re coming eventually, along with a stream of other updates… I promise!
Until next time...
There’s a logical explanation for all this, dating back through the ages. The closest tradition I can think of would be Halloween, which of course started as a way to scare away bad spirits. Similarly, the men behind the Kukeri masks (bizarre, hairy, freakishly tall costumes) come out and do everyone a favor every year and scare away all the bad spirits that might be lurking around just in time for spring.
The way they do it is at once terrifying (mission accomplished) and sometimes hilarious. The entry starts with the far off sound of bells being clanged together as the Kukeris rhythmically jump closer and closer. Finally, they're in the middle of the center and doing their dance in a circle and chanting, seemingly in a trance. Then the real fun starts - the Kukeri begin doing their duty and scaring the daylights out of any spirits who dare to get in the way, usually by dancing. Many of the groups had costumed manifestations of the bad spirits to illustrate that they were indeed being scared away. Included among these personifications of evil were a golden idol, impish demons, cross-dressers, and a group of lost backpackers (seriously).
The festival concluded with the costumed men triumphantly going back to the places from which they came, now loaded with wishes of “Zhiv I Zdrav” (Life and Health) from the mayor of the town and the appreciative crowd. Now that the demons had all successfully been exorcised, it was (of course) time to dance, and a 4 hour long horo commenced in the center almost immediately.
Other highlights of the weekend included a concert at the famous folklore school the day before the festival. The dancing was mind-blowingly good, and the music eardrum-blowing (but still quite impressive). It was, however, great to see what the place there is all about, and there is a lot of talent coming out of the little school. It’s also nice to see that the Bulgarians are committed to preserving the great folklore tradition in the country instead of just succumbing to the onslaught of chalga and Katie Perry. It was also, as always, nice to be with friends, and we met some new friends as well – members of the EU version of the Peace Corps (EVS – European Volunteer Service).
I promise to you that I took a ton of pictures and video. However I discovered upon returning to my place in Preslav that my camera had mysteriously broken. I’m sending it to a repair guy, but I still have the card on which all the pics are located, so hopefully I can get those out to you soon. However, it might also take up to a month, so be patient. They’re coming eventually, along with a stream of other updates… I promise!
Until next time...
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