Issue 26

Next 1 March, when you tie a martenitsa, or a red-and-white braided yarn, on your wrist, you'll be wearing much more than the remnant of an ancient tradition. The martenitsa not only protects you from the evil eye and announces the coming of spring, it also symbolises Bulgaria itself – according to Vagabond's readers.

The martenitsa won the first ever Symbols of Bulgaria @ Vagabond campaign. A misty morning in the Rhodope came in second, and Bulgaria's ubiquitous mutri took third.

You can't miss them: hulking monstrosities of bronze, stone or concrete that tower over town squares, parks and public buildings all across Bulgaria. Once part of the Communist regime's propaganda machine, these monuments to past heroes and future dreams now rank among the most potent reminders of Soviet ideology and its megalomaniacal aesthetics. Some have disappeared – the Georgi Dimitrov Mausoleum in Sofia was blown to pieces in 1999, The Alyosha in Pleven was torn down, and many busts of Lenin have disappeared, most likely sold for scrap metal.

"If you don't learn to savour the upsides of living in a foreign country, the downsides can drive you crazy," observes Mark Stevens, director of British defence and aerospace company BAE Systems in Sofia. His words capture the attitude shared by many general managers of large international companies in Bulgaria.

I am sitting in the courtyard of the unnamed eatery in the village of Leshten, on the western slopes of the Rhodope. The view before me is magnificent – the sun is setting over the Pirin, and its last rays colour in dark red the nearby mud-and-wood houses. The home-made rakiya I've tasted is probably the best in southwestern Bulgaria, the shopska has been made with hand-picked pink tomatoes, and the white cheese is simply fabulous.

A man of perhaps 80 slowly comes up the path to the restaurant. “Hi,” he says.

My first encounter with this year's Nobel Prize winners in medicine was not academic, but gastronomic. And like a fine five-course meal, my haute cuisine experience with Professor Luc Montagnier and Dr Françoise Barré-Sinoussi has a comedic appetiser.

Bulgarian cinema has yet to match the success of contemporary Romanian films. However, the past year has brought a ray of hope – and Yoanna Boukovska is aware of it. Her most recent role was in Small Talk, a modern adaptation of Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, directed by Vlado Kralev. The action is set in Varvara. "It's one of the few remaining wild spots on the southern Black Sea coast. It has an amazing atmosphere, very nostalgic, just like in old Bulgarian films," Yoanna says. The film will hit theatres in early November.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then Lyubomir Klissurov definitely has a lot to say – but he would be unable to because he is usually under water. He took his first underwater photographs of the Black Sea in 1973. Since then, he's collected so much material that he claims to have the world's largest collection of underwater shots featuring Black Sea flora and fauna.

When one of the three major holidays for remembering the dead rolls around, Bulgarians are transformed – from unapologetic atheists and lazy Eastern Orthodox believers to outright pagans.

Hardly any other European country can boast with a magazine with a concept like yours, at such a high level in both style and diversity.

Congratulations and keep on like that!

Jerry Schu, Luxembourg-Sofia

Dear Vagabond,

My wife and I were avid readers of your magazine whilst we lived in Bulgaria, but due to family reasons we have recently returned to the UK after two and a half years in Bulgaria.

I've been an official Bulgarian resident for two weeks now and will bring my American take of the English language to the teenagers of Pazardzhik soon as I become their EFL teacher. I love many things about my new home in Bulgaria, but I also find that it is essential in any transitional time in life to maintain a high level of humour. Quirks about the magical land of Bulgaria that seem quite bizarre, looked at with an eye of absurdity, become quite entertaining.

For a year I was driving around in my Lada, completely oblivious to how much it was blighting my social status. Then I got my Ford Escort. Granted, it wasn't that much of an upgrade considering the Ford's scratched panels and 1995 birth date, but it ticked over much better than the 1985 Lada Combi with home-made LPG conversion. I noticed a difference right away. I was able to drive in the fast lane without a bigger car driving on my tail just to prove a point. I got cut up less, and people didn't block me in at parking spaces.

Is the expat community full of certified alcoholics who, instead of spending their time in Bulgaria visiting cultural sites and learning the language, sit in English bars watching satellite TV and hitting the bottle? Equally, is the indigenous male population full of alcoholics who on waking at 6 am reach for the nearest rakiya bottle?

"What do you mean?" I said, though I knew exactly what she meant. A week earlier, driving home from my girlfriend's place late at night, rain blurring the windshield faster than the wipers could clear it, I'd pounded my fists against the steering wheel and hollered, "What am I doing here!" I didn't mean anything about my girlfriend. What I meant was, what in the world was I doing in Corvallis, Oregon? It rains constantly in Corvallis. When it's not raining, it smells of cow manure. I'm from the beach. I'm from San Luis Obispo, California.

The latest one was funny, though.

by Betti Fayon

The last 18 months have been a whirlwind of reshuffles for the Bulgarian Government in its efforts to iron out creases in the infamously weak judiciary – marred by grey areas and organised crime. One of the less publicised appointments was that of a new secretariat to the National Anti-Trafficking Commission in June 2007. In June 2008 the US State Department Trafficking in Persons report noted this change saying that "the Government of Bulgaria does not fully comply with the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking; however, it is making significant efforts to do so."