While I was dancing the Hora… (or A Bulgarian Wedding Story)

This past weekend I had the honor of joining my host family to marry off the eldest child. It had all the fixings of an American wedding. (Family and friends, dance and drink, etc…) The bride was blushing, the groom was late, and I was there. Here is my account of the events:

The week leading up to the wedding has been busy with preparation. On Thursday family started flooding in, and the snowball began to roll. The dinners were longer and louder. Luckily, one of the cousins, Pepi, spoke English well and I was able to engage in the conversations. After awhile the rest of the family left the table. We stayed. He and I stayed up well past the bedtime of the rest of the house and put away more than our fair share of Rakiya. It was nice. The next morning I had to catch a bus to class at 7.30. It was ugly. For nine hours I sat waiting, like a kid on Christmas Eve, to get back to the festivities. And get back to the festivities I did. Pepi and I were joined by other family members and the eight hour dinner cycle was repeated.

Saturday, the actual wedding day, came hard and fast.

The house exploded with activity. Cooking, ironing, eating, drinking, little kids following the weird American around, hair, makeup, lights, camera, action. Around three thirty the two man band struck up. An accordion and a bagpipe looking thing made from sheep stomach. Around four o’clock the groom showed up. We did not let him in. I did not find out till later that this is a tradition. My host brother, his buddies and I held the door closed while Iliana, the bride, waited in a room. The groom started slipping money through the door. The barricade team was not going to be bribed. The struggle ensued and then the door came off its hinges.

The door actually came off its hinges. The barricade team decided it would be a good idea to them in. At the next door, my host brother demanded more money for entry. Once the groom got in, his next task was to find the brides shoe. They had hid it. He found the shoe in a shoe box, clever girl. From here, we headed outside to take pictures.

I was then shoved into a car, and once again I had no idea what was going on. We were going to the courthouse.

The courthouse was like a Disneyworld ride. We walked in one set of double doors and stood in a room. Music boomed and a voice began the ceremony. It was very Wizard of OZ, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Everyone was basically silent. Since I had no idea what was said, I really have no more to say. We walked out another set of double doors, and were closely followed by the next group in queue. More pictures outside, I am shoveled into a car and again confused. Next stop, Church.

We pulled up to a beautiful Eastern Orthodox Church. There was a ceremony in the entry way while chanting echoed from somewhere inside. Once inside, no one really seemed to care. The all just grouped around the walls and talked while the formalities were taken care of. They are not very religious here. The ceremony was very interesting and involved crowns. From the church we headed to the reception.

Here the party started. I sat with another PCV, who had lived with the same family during his training. He was a good guy and we have made plans to hang out. We started with salad and Rakiya, both were particularly tasty. The next course was what I think is tongue. I did not ask before I ate it and did not want to know after the fact. There was music and laughter. Generally, it was similar to what you would expect. Thomas, the other PCV, and I were placed at the young adult table.

It was cool to interact with some Bulgarians my age. We have made plans to hang out. As for the dancing it was a nice mix of very outdated American (a version of La Cucaracha was played), Bulgarian pop hits (not too bad actually), and the Hora. It is a traditional dance of Bulgaria and done in a group. There was a lot of the Hora going on. Pretty soon it was four a.m. and everything was over.

I know that I am just still in a good mood from the wedding and will have some below average days. But, while I was dancing the Hora for the fourth time I had to ask myself, “Who do I think I am?” I was an American dancing under the Bulgarian sky, and being treated like family. It is hard to complain about that. In short, I really do like it here; and, yesterday in particular was a good day to be Mark Jackson.

Thanks for hearing out my ramblings and I hope life is treating everyone well. Keep the emails coming; it is nice to have a clue as to what is going on.

~~Mark


"So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out...There's so much left to know and I'm on the road to find out."
--Cat Stevens

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Calling from the US...

Well, I have only had two cell phones. One in the Netherlands and one in Bulgaria.

Here is the break down of my phone number:
011 - To call any international number from the US.
359 - Bulgaria Country code
886712417 - My phone number
Thus, 011-359-886712417

If you are calling from Bulgaria, just dial: 0886712417

Some have had luck with a phone card from: www.hellobulgaria.com.
It is about 15 cents a min. Hope to hear from some of you.

~~Mark

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Sofia...

Sofia:

There is no questioning it anymore, I am back in Europe. The final bit of evidence needed was a doner kebab. A dripping mix of lamb shaved from a spit, garlic sauce, and vegetables. Chicago has deep dish pizzas, Bloomington has Pizza Express, and Europe has doner kebobs. This was a dietary staple when I lived in the Netherlands. And, ladies and gentlemen she has returned. I will keep you abreast of further sightings. Aside from being home to the first doner I have had in over a year and a half, Sofia is beautiful.

After our long day of Peace Corps meetings on Friday a friend of mine, Casey, and I decided we needed to do something. So we left. The deciding factor for choosing Sofia was George. George is a PCV that lived in Sofia until he moved to the States about twenty years ago. Fluent in Bulgarian? Check. Friends all over the place in Sofia? Check. Willing to show us around? Check. A no brainer.

We got into Sofia late Friday and headed to Hostel Sofia; a cheap, clean, albeit cramped hostel with a wonderful family running it. I guess Peace Corps people use it all the time. I will be back. Once we settled in, we got dinner and got lost. We wandered ourselves right back to the hostel and crashed. We woke up and killed some time (read: got lost again) waiting for George. We were supposed to wait for him outside our Hostel, so we picked a café and waited. It was a nice enough café, but was deserted. We spent our time watching people in suits being let in to a very modern and secure building (think CIA). George and Igor, one of his friends, finally walk up they are laughing. George asks us if we can read Bulgarian. No George, not yet. He points to the shiny building we have been sitting next to and tells us that it is the headquarters for the current Communist party. I must to learn how to read Bulgarian. George wouldn’t sit down while we finish our drinks. We left.

The day was spent hopping from one Café to another. The plan was to bump into major sites along the way. A very civilized way of touring a city, I must admit. At one of the café’s there is a statue of Lennon laying in the grass, this used to be in some famous square in Sofia.

Someday I will get into more detail about the ruins left from Communism, it really is fascinating. We went into a gallery with the largest collection of Christian Icons in Europe. George knew the curator. We were led into the restricted access ‘depot’ where thousands of Icons sit with no funding for refurbishing. Every one of them was priceless and every one of them sat on a shelf. The curator locked the depot, locked his office and joined us for the next café. What a great society. The conversation at this café was particularly amazing. Igor was the head of publishing for the Bulgarian Ministry of Culture. The three old friends argued, in English fortunately, about almost every aspect of Bulgarian life. If I had a transcript of the conversation, I would post it. When people say the best education does not come from school this was what they were thinking of. (To my cousins who may be reading this: Stay in school.)

It helped me imagine what Communism was like, what is holding this country back, and why I am here. We kept walking. The sun stopped shining, we kept going. Around midnight I realized this might not ever end and took myself out of the game.

Sunday morning Casey and I were on our own and decided to walk to the train station. We had spent quite a bit of Bulgarian Leva the previous day. On the way we stumbled into a market. We bought some fruit and filled our water bottles from a little fountain. One of the most satisfying breakfasts I have had to date. It was this market that also carried doner kabobs, the significance of which I have previously stated. We got to the station, Casey hopped on a bus to his training site and I caught a train home. It worked and it was conducted in Bulgarian. A great trip.

Next weekend is my host sister’s wedding. The house is bustling and exciting. Expect some type of correspondence regarding the event. Thank you again to everyone who has written me.

~~Mark

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I don't speak Bulgarian...

I am going to have to admit that I am in a very strange situation. Forget the whole Bulgaria thing, or that my town is the toilet paper capital of the Balkan Peninsula, the most surreal part is that I have not a clue what is going on about 80% of the time. Just imagine going dumb and mute in a single plane ride. Granted I am getting the basics down (about 20%) but getting past eating or going to the bathroom I am in the hurt box. For example:

The Festival:

My family and I went to the Youndala festival last Sunday. I didn’t know it until we got back home. I had a vague notion, via group charades, that a ‘picnic’ was being put together for Saturday. So, I spent most of Saturday near the house waiting to go for a nice meal outdoors. Saturday came and went. No problem, I must have misunderstood and forgot about it (things like that had happened before). The next morning, I wake up and am told to grab some shoes and a fleece. Then I am directed into a car with a bunch of other people and we head out. To where? I don’t know. No one else in the car seemed worried. So, I just sat quietly and looked out to the beautiful Rila Mountains. My host brother had talked (via translator) about going kayaking, rock climbing, camping, bungee jumping and more. Are we going bungee jumping today? I don’t know. After about an hour of this cyclical pondering we came to a carnival. It was nice. We walked around, watched some traditional dancing, and looked at the bazaar with almost anything for sale. After awhile we got back in the car and started driving again. Are we going home now? I don’t know. About four miles down a road we pull off and start driving around a beautiful meadow. We get out, put the drinks to cool in the stream, built a fire, and started grilling. It was nice. After eating for a steady two hours, we are still there. A couple more pleasant hours pass and the sun starts to set. Are we going to sleep here tonight? I don’t know. Once night had fallen completely, we packed up and began driving again. This time we did go home.

I have resigned to the fact that for awhile I am going to have to be as fluid as possible and not worry about not understanding. If I had in this instance, I would have ruined everything. Just about every event is a trust game, like the ones they have you play in church retreats. Close your eyes, tip backwards, and hope someone catches you. Law of Averages says that the system will not work every time, but “Without the bitter, the sweet just isn’t as sweet.”

“I am Frank, and Frank must go.”

~~Mark
PS: The two quotes are from Vanilla Sky.

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My Day Off...

Yesterday was my first day off since I started in DC. It was an interesting one. I decided to go for a run in the Rila's that morning. At my brother's request I took Ben, the dog. So, it is Ben and I running around on the trails. Everything is great. About half an hour into the run, we came across a bunch of grazing Bulls. Now, it is me, some huge Bulls, and a growling dog. I guess dogs and bulls are not typically friends. I felt like I had taken a wrong turn in Pamplona. Once I got Ben to calm down, he and I started walking past the pointy beasts. We got through them safely. And all was well in the end.

As I get back to the house, there is a bunch of noise coming from the chicken hut. It turns out that one of the chickens had broken its leg. Out of respect for our vegetarian friends, I will not go into detail. But, I must say that dinner was both interactive and tasty.

Today, I will be heading off to a festival in a neighboring town. Sounds like it will be fun. Thanks to everyone who has emailed. I am doing my best to get back to you as soon as I can. It does mean a lot.

~~Mark

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Some Pictures....

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Week One...

Dztra 've te...(Hello)

Well, I am sorry that I have not been able to update anything since I left the states, but it is because the site we did our initial training was a bit remote. No internet and a one and a half minute phone call home cost about a day's wage. We are talking about horses, cows, sheep, chickens, dogs, kids, roma and more walking around the streets.

Here we go...
The flight to Sofia (the capital) was not a problem, I was able to sleep most of the time and all my bags arrived unscathed. Once we cleared customs (which consisted of walking through a few doors, no questions were asked) we were met by a bunch of screaming PCV's (Peace Corps Volunteers). They gave us flowers, fruit, and water. Then we were shoved on to a bus and sent to Strelcha.

Once in Strelcha, we were given the night to sleep/regain composure. That was nice, but did not last long. We were flooded with information ranging from who to call if we want to quit to what to do if you are being attacked by fleas and bed bugs. (lovely) We were given manual after manual and told to read them all. In between, we were given lessons in Bulgarian. This lasted for four days. The positive was that we were able to bond as a training class and get used to the food/customs in a bit of a vacuum. From there, we left for our training site and host family.

Here is the break down of my host family:
Mother -- Mariya
Father -- Nickoli
Brother -- Constantine 29
Sister -- Iliana 28
Dog -- Ben
Cat -- Lukas
Chickens -- about 15
Turkeys -- about 10

Iliana does not live with the family and is getting married at the end of the month. Nickoli is a big guy who loves to eat and drink. His specialty is homemade Rakiya. This a clear Brandy made from Mariya's plums. He has promised to show me how to make it. Good times. Mariya is a great cook and has a huge garden. Every meal we have fresh vegetables and fruit. Mariya is a true mother type and always wants to know where I am going and if I am hungry. Coszo (Constantine) is huge and is a bouncer at a club. At home he is great, but I would not want to see him at work. Yesterday we went for a beautiful hike along the mountains with Ben.

The town I am in is called Belovo. It is a factory town of about 5,000 and to be honest is not pretty. But, it is nestled in between three mountain ranges (you can see all three from our balcony). It is around two hours from Sofia, which is very modern. And about 50 min. from Plovdiv, another big city.

The daily routine is long. We have 4-5 hours of Bulgarian starting at 8.30 or 9.00. Then, we have assignments due once a week that are going to take awhile (including, meeting local businesses, the police, mayor, etc...) If we are not in class, we are studying at a cafe, or at our host family's house (more Bulgarian). The good news is that a dobrovolka ot Korpus Namira (PCV) that has been in country about four months dropped by to show us around. She went through the same program and was able to hold full conversations with my family. So, as hard as it is it will pay off. And, this is the only time studying is making my life easier. I am excited.

Again, I am sorry about the delay. Things are not exactly reliable around here (i.e. if it rains the phones and internet go out for awhile). Also, I will get some pictures up as quickly as possible. We are having some technical difficulties.

I hope this has not been boring, but at the same time I will do my best to keep everyone informed.

~~Mark

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Leaving for Bulgaria...

The last couple days have been spent in board rooms going over the policies/procedures of the Peace Corps. They have ranged from safety to laundry. To be honest, it was mostly plain dry information. The good news is that I have met what the Peace Corps calls your 'immediate family.' These are the other volunteers that will be leaving with me.

The range of people is amazing. In total, my class is 56 people strong. A much larger group than I had thought. We have one woman who is in her sixties. We have three married couples. And, we have everyone in between. Professionals, graduate students, mothers, fathers, and the young ones like me. I have not met a bad person in the bunch, not surprising given the circumstances. From what I have heard, and now experienced, these are the people that I will become very close with. A strange bit of information to handle before you even know their names.

Here is the more detailed itinerary for the next week:

4 August: Fly to Sophia and take a two hour bus ride to Strelcha. (Even our advisor was not sure where Strelcha is on a map)

5-9 August: Do more training on Bulgaria (in Strelcha).

9 August: Meet and move in with host family.
This begins the three month training phase. From here, I will spend about four days a week in my new town going to classes. Once a week the entire group will meet up in Pazardjik (between Sofia and Plovdiv).

Hope everyone is doing well,
Mark

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Day One...

The last couple weeks have been nutty partly trying to get everything in order, but mostly trying to say goodbye to everyone. A good buddy of mine asked on my last night in Naperville, "How do you say goodbye to everyone you know?" I guess the answer is that you don't. That is why I am really going to try and keep this journal up to date. And, as bad as it was to leave family, friends, coworkers I am still 100% confident that this is the right road for me. I have a feeling that at the end of it all, I will be amazed that I ever thought of not going.

--Mark

A quote given to me by a very good friend:
"Not all those who wander are lost." -- J.R. Tolkien

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