When in 1194 the citizens of Chartres donated their labour to dig the foundations of the new Cathedral of Our Lady, whose predecessor had burned down, they had a couple of aims in mind. The first one was purely practical. The cathedral, which housed the tunic of the Virgin Mary, attracted a host of pilgrims and their money to the city. The second was their religious enthusiasm. They worked without pay to purge themselves from sin.
After just a few weeks in Bulgaria, or a few hours of watching Bulgarian TV, you will have noticed that something quite strange is going on with Bulgarian bread. On the one hand, Bulgarians left, right and centre will swear by the quality of their bread, and President Parvanov will be seen partaking of bread dipped in salt from a plate proffered to him by a girl clad in a 19th Century "folk" costume – yes, you've guessed right: he is opening a new cultural centre or meeting dignitaries in the provinces.
One of the major problems encountered by expats and visitors alike when going around in and out of Sofia is their inability to read even the simplest place names and street signs. Unless you are well-versed in the Cyrillic alphabet, you will find it impossible to pronounce relatively common names such as Бургас and Несебър, not to mention the more complicated Пазарджик and Велико Търново and, of course, that all-time favourite, Джулюница.
It seems that Bulgaria has declared more days of national mourning recently than any other country on the planet. Yet confusion reigns as to precisely what should happen. The only beneficiaries seem to be populist politicians who demand such days – and sanctimonious media quick to condemn any lapses in mourning etiquette by the country’s "great and good."
One of the shifts that has been slowly taking place in Bulgaria since "The Changes," as most Bulgarians refer to the collapse of Communism 20 years ago, has been the re-emergence of an independent Bulgarian literary tradition. Not that it had disappeared. Simply that it had been quieted. There was once a time when merely to distribute self-published poetry or fiction among friends would have been punished by the thought police. Yet now Bulgarian writers are finding their voices again, and finding an audience, both in their country and abroad.
Bulgaria is obviously not a major player in world politics but maybe I'm quite wrong about that, if the careers of most American ambassadors in the post-Communist phase are anything to go by. Take John Beyrle, Nancy McEldowney's predecessor. After three years at Kozyak Street, the location of the new American Embassy in Sofia, Beyrle is now the American ambassador to Russia. You don't need to be involved in international politics to understand that this is one of the most important jobs an American diplomat can hold, especially at the present time.
First of all, I am a guest in this country, so I have to follow the rules of my hosts, whether they obey them themselves or not.
Secondly, we can't complain of corruption here and at the same time find nothing wrong with passing a 20 leva note to a policeman. I know they don't get paid much and need some extra income in order to feed their children. But hey, this is not my problem. The Bulgarian state should pay decent salaries to its employees; it's not my duty to make up the deficit. Their job is to protect me, not to rob me.