On 15 September 1989 the school year began in an unusual way. Our class teacher announced in a stern voice: "Children, we have to be very happy that Marin did not leave for Turkey. If he had, he wouldn't now be sitting at his desk; he would be shining shoes on the streets of Istanbul instead. But he and his family remained here because they know that their true motherland is Bulgaria, not Turkey."
Nothing illustrates better Bulgaria's ambivalence towards relatively new post-Communist concepts such as human rights than its attitude towards gays. On the one hand, one of the country's mega chalga stars, Aziz, is both a Gypsy and a very open gay, who aggressively promotes his sexuality as well as his extravagant appearance and lifestyle. Controversial he may be, especially when viewed by Boyko Borisov who notoriously bans his billboards in Sofia, but he is both entertaining on TV and very rich – and many Bulgarians consider these qualities "make up" for his "crooked" sexuality.
It also provides information about the "transparency" of everything and the mystical ways things seem to work here... For about three weeks now I've been trying to pay the postage fee of 60 leva through the bank – what an adventure it's been! Seems as though they never heard of such a thing as a money transfer. Today, suddenly, it seemed to work – until somebody called me back later to say it didn't, and I had to come back to the bank again, because of some ima problem, or there's a problem.
It was called The Church of the Assumption – a typical Orthodox construction from the early nineteenth century, looking more like a large chapel.
"This is the oldest church in the region, that's why it's the main one," Victor clarified. "Correct, Father?"
Three years ago, in New York, distinguished Bulgarian photographer Ivo Hadjimishev was having dinner with Nellie and Robert Gipson, a Bulgarian- American family, who had sponsored educational and museum projects in Bulgaria for years (see Vagabond No. 23, August 2008).
What happens when a psychology graduate with the nose of a reporter and the talent of a writer locks herself up in a flat for six months, only communicating with the world through Internet dating sites? In Stanislava Ciuriskiene's case, the result is an intriguing, insightful and edifying book that you won't be able to put down.
In 1909, 9 September fell on a Thursday. Usually, Thursdays were business as usual for the numerous Jewish shops and other establishments in what at the time was a city with a significant Jewish population. But on that day they were all closed, as if it was a Sabbath. The streets of the Jewish neighbourhoods – the rich lived on either side of what is today Maria Louisa Blvd and the poor in Yuchbunar, present-day Zone B5 – were nearly deserted. The only sound was the buzz of thousands of voices coming from the market near the Banya Bashi Mosque.
No one likes spam, but many of us, for one reason or another, keep casting a curious eye on those little by-lines some people include at the end of their emails. "Faith is believing what you know ain't so" someone quotes Mark Twain to me while someone else keeps asking me do I really need to print this email. "Jesus loves you! Don't give a shit."
It has become a commonplace that street markets represent the cities they are in and indicate their prevailing cultures. London's famous Camden Lock Market, Acton Market and, of course, Portobello Road Market have long become tourist attractions as well as local hangouts, and so have New York's PS 234, Paris's Rue Cler, Madrid's El Rastro and Istanbul's Kapali Carsi.
Whether you are a son-in-law like honey, or with money, or cute as a bunny, and equally funny, continuing to charm your newly acquired Bulgarian mother-in-law is a lifetime's challenge.