Town Holiday!

Sunday was a big day in my town and around Bulgaria - the Day of Saints Cyril and Methodius, creators of the Cyrillic Alphabet. Born in Thessaloniki, Cyril and Methodius came to Bulgaria as missionaries and created the alphabet as a way to introduce Christianity to the Slavic people. To do this they needed a written language that reflected the different sounds of the Slavic languages of the time. Using some Greek letters, and also inventing some new letters they came up with the Glagolitic alphabet, which eventually transformed into the Cyrillic that many countries use today.


When Preslav was the capital of Bulgaria during its Golden Age, there was a great literary school that contributed much of the great historical literature of the country. Without Cyril and Methodius, much of the expansion that Bulgaria experienced probably never would have happened. Since this alphabet directly contributed so much to the development of Veliki Preslav (and to Bulgaria for that matter), the town celebrates it as its town holiday.

Today, the festival is somewhat removed from celebrating the contributions of Cyril and Methodius, and more an excuse to have a carnival come into town. The day kicked off in the center with a short presentation by the mayor, and a wreath-laying at the statue of Czar Simeon (the king of Bulgaria when Preslav was the capital and throughout its Golden Age). After that various groups put on singing and dancing presentations for about another hour.


When the presentation was over, it was off to the carnival, conveniently set up next to the pazar up the street. This was one of the most ridiculous, yet fun times I’ve had in town so far. Firstly, the weekly pazar (outdoor market) was expanded and included merchants from all around the region, and even some from some other cities selling everything you could imagine from clothes, to random gadgets, to chalga. Next to the market, crammed into a tiny square, were several rides that can only be described as deathtraps, some rip-off games, and several ponichki stands.

A word about ponichki: I think the nearest approximation would be little donuts, but to call them just "little donuts" would be a crime. These Bulgarian versions are fried not only in hot oil, but also a mixture of dreams, puppy kisses, and children's laughter, then drizzled with chocolate sauce and served directly to you fresh and warm in a little basket with a tiny fork. Pretty much the best and worst food ever created…

A little ways further up the road towards the school and the orphanage was located a giant inflatable slide and a dirt buggy track. Actually "track" is probably a bit of an exaggeration (more like a tiny circle of anti-fun and dust) but the allure of it brought the kids in anyway. I was almost snared as well, but luckily those tricky Peace Corps rules saved me from certain doom (PC rule 537: No driving anything ever. Sometimes donkey carts, maybe).

To my surprise, the children from the orphanage were allowed free rides on many of the attractions present, which made for a great weekend for them. As for me, I just had a good time hanging out and watching the people pass by on what was undoubtedly the most crowded I have ever seen my town. It seemed that most of the people from town were there, and for the first time that I can remember, the town actually felt as big as people tell me it is.

Until next time…

Days of Graduation

I have to say, Bulgarian graduation celebrations ("Abiturenski") are pretty awesome.

Today, at random intervals, groups of kids would start chanting numbers - "First, second, third..." all the way up to twelve at which point they go crazy and yell really loud. This is for each grade they've passed. Now that they're graduating they have the authority to go the whole distance. This makes it kind of awkward for people who aren't there yet (or who didn't graduate), since they have to drop out of the chant at the grade that they are at or that they made it to. This is a good incentive to stay in school... No one wants to be that guy who has to stop at 10. Well maybe some kids.

At the same time, there are cars passing by at like 2mph covered in balloons and honking constantly. Some of them at their windshield wipers on and the washer fluid running, getting people on the sidewalks wet as they drove by. I've seen this before after weddings, but it's a whole different story when there are several multiple cars all doing it at the same time.

We had a small party at the orphanage with cookies and bezalkoholno (soda - lit. "without alcohol"), and the kids were all decked out in their new suits and dresses. There are 5 graduates from the orphanage this year, and they are all awesome kids who will definitely move on to do great things. I'm going to miss them too, since I've kind of leaned on them (especially in the beginning) to establish myself there.

After the graduation ceremony, the kids will be shouting all night long, the horns will be blazing, and at least for one night, the graduates will run the town. The festivities will continue until morning comes, when the tradition is to walk up to your school one last time and watch the sunrise together as a class. Then everyone goes their separate ways. This is a tradition that is definitely better than its American counterpart, and shows a great amount of solidarity with classmates and friends. It's a special end to a night that means so much more here in Bulgaria than I feel graduation night means in America, since graduating high school is a significantly more rare occurrence here. In America it's usually just something that's expected. Maybe that's why the parties didn't seem as cool.

Until next time...

A Day in Sofia

So I’ve been to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, several times now, but I’ve realizes that I had never really written about it. This particular visit was due to a meeting of the Anti-Trafficking in Persons committee, of which I am now Co-Chair. This is exciting for me, because I deal with this issue in my work since my kids are prime targets, and also something that is important to me on a personal level. I’m so glad to have the chance to help lead this committee and to help lead this committee to spread awareness of this huge - yet still unfortunately overlooked - issue.

Anyway, Sofia is a big city (the biggest in Bulgaria), but even as it holds such an important place in the country and in the region, it is an often misunderstood place. I often start my day at the Central Bus Station, a monstrous glass-faced building, and head either for the Peace Corps office or the center. Since the PC office is in the middle of nowhere with practically nothing interesting around, other than rows of residential block apartments, I try to hang around the center as much as possible. Here, most of the interesting things in town are located with a radius of a couple of kilometers or less.

In the direct center of town is located a square called “The Largo” (currently being totally redone), in which is located Parliament, the President’s office, and the Ministry of Justice (interestingly located in the building that once housed the former headquarters of the Bulgarian Communist Party).


Watching over this square is the gold-skinned statue of Sofia, the personification of Wisdom. The statue stands in the place of a statue of Lenin, toppled during the fall of Communism, and is a symbol of Bulgaria's desire to put its past behind and start anew with other nations in the world of democracy.

A short walk away from the center is the impressive Alexander Nevski Cathedral, the largest in Bulgaria, and large enough to occupy its own square. The domes are a brilliant gold that can be seen from many places around town, and the interior is covered in impressive frescoes and sculptures.

Right next to Alexander Nevski is the Church of Saint Sofia (Hram Sveta Sofia), dating back to the 6th century, and also the city’s namesake. Arguably more impressive than Nevski due to its age and significance to the city, the brick building also houses an eternal flame for fallen Bulgarian soldiers.

Heading the other way from the Largo, we reach Boulevard Vitosha, the city’s (and pretty much the country’s) main shopping street. The street starts at the Church of Sveta Nedelya, another famous and beautiful church and heads towards Mount Vitosha, a still snow-capped mountain just outside of town. The Boulevard runs for more than a kilometer and includes tons of international high-fashion (and expensive) stores.

At the end of Vitosha is located the National Palace of Culture (NDK for short), a gigantic complex of theaters, meeting halls, and even TV studios (BTV, one of the big Bulgarian channels, calls this home). It is also here that my group officially swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers. Pretty much anything with national cultural significance happens here. It’s also located in a huge park, which is a nice place to hang out when the weather is good.

There are plenty of other interesting things to check out in Sofia as well and I can spend (and have spent) a good bit of time just wandering around. And the food! Mmm… It’s one of the only places in Bulgaria where you can find good international food. Anyways, I hope this was a good introduction for all you people outside of Bulgaria. And for the people in Bulgaria, you probably know all this already. But maybe you liked the pictures… or something…

Until next time…

A Night at the Theater...

I just got back from my first trip to a Bulgarian play. Man that was an experience. I don't even know how to put it into words, but I have to try. The name of the play was "Zavrushtene" which I still don't know the translation to. I think it means something like "The Arriving" or something like that. The plot went something like this:

Act 1: An older man, Georgi, gets a visit from a lady named Milka who tells him that she's in love with him even though he's married. He tells her that he's not interested, to which the Milka responds by exploding emotionally and yelling at him that he'll be sorry and never have a love like her's. The man's wife, Gergana, comes in and wonders what's going on, and Georgi tells her. The couple's son, Svilen, comes home from out of town, now grown and engaged. He has brought his fiance, Eva and they are madly in love. Eva tells the parents that she has no family except for her mother who lives alone. The parents find out that Eva's mother is Milka and proceed to freak out because they have been avoiding her. End of Act 1.

Act 2: The audience learns that the fiance is actually the child of the Georgi and Milka from before he was married to Gergana. This is where the audience started to get into it. Milka comes by the house while everyone is there, and the whole thing is revealed. Of course, Svilen and Eva are shocked at the discovery that they are actually siblings, and a good 10 minutes of crying from everyone ensues. Suddenly, Eva tells everyone to stop, breaks the 4th wall and asks the audience and the family, "But what will happen to my BABY?!" At this point the audience just goes crazy and starts yelling and clapping. End of Act 2.

Act 3. The audience is still going crazy and talking to each other about what has happened. Eva tells Svilen that she isn't actually pregnant and just told that to everyone to see what her mother's reaction would be. The audience lets out a "Awwww..." and calms down. Svilen tells Georgi that she's not pregnant and he goes to tell Gergana. While he is out, Svilen tells Eva that they can still be in love, but not in the same way (in a strange sequence with dimmed lights, sappy music, and a swirling spotlight effect). Milka comes in crying, and no one reveals to her that Eva isn't pregnant. She leaves for good, and Eva leaves too, but says she'll be back. Gergana threatens to leave everyone too because this was such a traumatic experience, but then decides to stay, saying, "This is Love." She and Georgi down a couple of shots and dance horo. The end.

I have to say, that even though the plot might have been on par with a Spanish soap opera's, I was totally entertained. Can't wait for my next one... And now that the Chitalishte (community center) is finally open, I'm sure there will be plenty more opportunities.

Until next time...

Slushat Li Detsata?

By far one of the most frequent questions I hear from people around town when the conversation inevitably shifts to working with children in any capacity is, “Do the children listen?”

Ever since I have arrived here at site I have heard this question at least once a week, and I wince a little every time I hear it. For a while I never understood why it got to me so much, but after a while I realized that this question (to me) epitomizes everything I find wrong with the system and methods of child care in this country. Now I’m not saying that there’s nothing good about child care in this country. Truth be told, I have met several great teachers and child care providers during my time here who are having a positive influence on the children they work for. However, when I hear Bulgarians every week telling me about how the school system is failing and how children have no interest in learning, it makes me think a little about why. The question reveals a lot...

The first problem is that the question addresses the concerns of the child care worker rather than the needs or even the problems of the child. This is reflected in the fact that often, the system of child care here is more concerned with itself or with its employees than with the children it works with. I cannot tell you how many times I have wondered exactly how many people here are working with children because they have to, or because they want to. Thus the question transforms a potential shortcoming of the worker into the fault of the child. I have heard stories of when children are dancing on tables in class ending in, “Ne slushat” – “They are not listening.” OK… what have you done, or what are you going to do to address this? Are the children unruly in class because they aren’t listeners, or because your classroom management skills are lacking? What is the punishment or the incentive to behave? More often than not, there isn’t one.

The second problem is that the question is really meaningless. It doesn’t address anything. Or rather, it addresses so many different things that it loses its meaning. I have heard the question used to ask: “Are the children well-behaved?”, “Do they pay attention to you?”, and even, “Turkish and Roma kids can do things?” When can you tell if the children are “listening” if the question itself isn't even consistent? Many times, the question doesn’t refer to discipline, but also the overall behavior of the child. For example, you may hear in response to a child at the Yasli who won’t stop crying, “Ne slusha” – “He/she is not listening.” Is this a case of a 2 year old refusing to pay attention to you, or is it a common reaction to being away from parents?

Sometimes the question even refers to the abilities of the children. At the orphanage I hear stories about kids who are slacking off in class ending in, “ne slushat” (They don’t listen). Though this should be the topic of another post, it is this situation that is perhaps most frustrating for me. I hear the question posed like this all too often in reference to the kids at the orphanage, many of which have been moved through the system without learning how to count or read. Are they not interested in class, or are they not participating because they can't understand what you're teaching and don't have a way to catch up? Or is it because they can't afford the textbooks you're using in class? Or is it because most of the people in town have given up on them and treat them as criminals or mentally challenged? Perhaps simply saying they aren’t listening is easier than acknowledging the shortcomings of the system.

My answer to the question has usually attempted either some clarification, or just “Yes, they listen.” This often prompts some surprise on the part of the asker, either because they aren’t used to have a question directed back at them in response, or because the expected answer is always “no.” When I proudly tell people around town that my kids are great - the children at the orphanage who can’t read or have had behavior problems, the little boy at the Yasli who cries for hours because he misses his mommy, the group of kids I pass by every day who hang out and pretend to build houses out of sticks instead of going home after school – I get looks of bewilderment, or the look that says, “Yeah, right.”

Sometimes I just want to say to them… “The kids are listening. Are you?”

Until next time…