This past Saturday I was lured to Veliko Turnovo (about two hours away from Shoumen) with promises of Kenyan food and a gathering of Peace Corps folks. Once I got in town, I was supposed to meet up with a couple friends at the bridge and then we would head over to the apartment.
While I was waiting at the bridge, I couldn’t keep my eyes from the bungee rig. It wasn’t ever really a question
. The price was right (about 8 dollars) and before I knew it, I was filling out a waver form. One of the questions was weight – in kilograms. My first reaction was, ‘nosey Bulgarians, why do you care how much I weigh?’ It is common to have people ask your weight, age, salary, etc… and that is one of the cultural differences that still gets to me occasionally. Luckily, before I scribbled down a half thought out, rough estimate of my weight in kilograms, I realized accuracy was critical. Weight determined rope length. Rope length determined if I hit the river below me or not. I did the math a couple of times before I wrote down an answer.
With that disaster averted, I got strapped in. The dreadlocked and long haired duo that made up the ‘staff’ seemed competent enough. To be honest, I just wanted to make sure they were sober and the straps were on tight. Really, really tight.
Once I was all clipped in, I stood on the railing and just let myself fall forward. Free fall, not breathing followed by a quick yank. One thing that I didn’t really think about was how close to the bridge you get on your bounce up. As you are rocketing upwards, a little alarm goes off in your head and I was sure I was going to smash into the bottom of the bridge. After you realize you won’t hit the metal, it gets even more fun; as you are bouncing around, you can do flips and flail your limbs around. After a couple minutes, you are pulled back up to the bridge.
With my feet on solid concrete, the dreadlocked girl stopped me from climbing over the railing and said, ‘10 leva’ to go again – just over 5 bucks. ‘Of course,’ is my reply. After the onlookers heard I was going to do it again, they all kept saying the Bulgarian word for ‘surprise.’ Surprise?!? I think ‘surprise’ is the second worse thing I could have heard at that moment (the first being ‘whoops’). Turns out the surprise was for me to lean back and the dreadlocked one would hold my wrists. She would determine my fall.
Once we had that cleared up, I agreed and leaned back. With my eyes close, I waited for the drop. She told me, ‘No, no, no. Look at me. Look at….’ The second I opened my eyes, she let go. Tricky.
Gut jumps, free fall, no air… yank. While I was bouncing around, I completed a couple of flips. And, as quick as it had started, I was standing on the bridge. It was all over.
After that, we went to the apartment and feasted on Kenyan food – really good, by the way. And, perhaps the best part was that on Sunday I only had a two hour bus ride home. I was in my apartment at noonish.
Hope all is well,
Mark
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