English Lessons

I held an informational meeting for English language lessons today....AND it was a success! I was worried no one would show up and also kind of worried that a ton of people would come. Last week, I made signs and posted them in the teacher's lounge, culture center, municipality, museums, tourist center, etc. inviting everyone interested in learning English to come and discuss what they want to learn, what they already know, and when they have free time so I could hold classes that would appropriately match their needs. I heard people talk about it, but still wasn't sure who would actually attend. My counterpart and I practiced what I would say during the meeting and she came to support me in case I needed help. I also brought cookies. At 5:30 (the stated start time of the meeting), no one had arrived, not even my counterpart. But, by 6:00 (which I'm learning is 5:30 BG time) I had almost 30 people filling out questionnaires. The meeting went perfectly and I will start teaching two adult English classes next week, one for beginners and one for more advanced students.

Another week, more celebrations

I feel as if most of my entries begin the same way: I’m super busy, love the Peace Corps, and there was a celebration. Despite my unoriginality, this pretty much describes my time perfectly. It’s difficult to explain, since the things that take up time are hard to classify as activities. My day will seem hectic and overflowing, with hardly any time to do anything, but when I get home and try to think of what I did during the day, it’s not usually very clear. Also, there is usually a holiday for something. Last week was no exception: it was busy and great and there were celebrations.

My counterpart’s boy turned 4 years old last Wednesday. I helped her make rice crispie treats the day before his party. I’m not sure where she found them, but my counterpart had purchased marshmallows: the key ingredient to the dessert, which I previously thought impossible to purchase in Bulgaria. They weren’t quite the same as in America. These marshmallows were colored pink, strawberry flavored, shaped like mushrooms, and coated in sugar. Cornflakes were substituted for rice crispies, and margarine for butter. I thought rice crispie treats were sort of awful, but everyone seemed to love them. The party was awesome. I was took pictures for my counterpart. Definitely an over the top kids party with cakes, pizza, smiley-faced sandwiches, drinks for moms, etc. She also had all sorts of games set up for them (pin the tail on the donkey, a homemade piñata, etc.). Mostly, the kids ran around and hit each other with balloons.

September 15^th was the first day of school in Bulgaria. It is celebrated nationwide on the same day every year. Happy първия учебен ден to all teachers and students! I attended the welcome back ceremony for Petar Parchevich School with a friend in Chiprovtsi. Her daughter started the 4^th grade this year. The morning of първия учебен ден, when her daughter walked out the door of the house, her father spilled a bowl of water in front of her for good luck. Then, her mother gave her a bouquet of flowers for her teacher.

The students arrived at school dressed in their best outfits with bunches of flowers for teachers and queued by class in the schoolyard. They listened to some of their classmates sing, the mayor and school director talk, and stood attentively for the raising of the Bulgarian flag on the school’s flagpole. Parents took photos and watched. It didn’t seem to matter if they arrived to work late. After the ceremony, the students entered the school by class. They received their books and some paperwork and were released by 10am. It made me a bit jealous that America doesn’t have a similar holiday. Celebrating the first day of the school year seems to be a very good tradition; първия учебен ден honors the teachers and the students.

After the ceremony, I visited the tourist information center in the culture center. I described the ceremony I had just witnessed to the librarian (the library is also in the culture center). There was one class per grade, none with more than 25 students and most having significantly fewer. It was a pleasant enough event, nothing spectacular. She then related to me the celebrations of 15 September that occurred during her childhood in Chiprovtsi. Forty years ago it used to be a huge event with 4 classes per grade filled to capacity and students parading through the center and dancing. Times have changed.

While we were chatting, a tourist walked in speaking English! It was the first time I’ve encountered a foreign visitor at site. From Switzerland, living in Germany, this tourist was travelling across Bulgaria with her husband. Somewhere during their travels she had photographed a Chiprovtsi carpet and now wanted to buy one exactly like it. This is difficult since each carpet is unique and made to order carpets take between 3-6 months to make. Also the lady from the museum really wanted her to buy something and kept trying to show her smaller, souvenir carpets. It was interesting to act as translator/guide. My English abilities impressed the tourist, until I explained I’m a PCV from America. Then she laughed. Even so, it was fun to help her communicate with the women selling carpets and to share what I know about local history and culture. She was surprised to learn how few foreign tourists we receive despite the resources and sites located here.

Chiprovtsi Waterfall

The Chiprovtsi Waterfall is a five-mile hike from the center of town. Two trails lead to the falls. The Dyanitsa Eco Path and a dirt trail used by shepherds. They are about the same distance: the eco path is steeper and goes past the Gushovski Monastery, the shepherd route is easier, but its views are obscured by dense forest.

The two trails meet a road at a clearing about a half-mile away from the falls. There is a khizha (wooden shelter/hut) for overnight hikers and a sign indicating a butterfly garden near the intersection. Khizha ‘Yavor’ was being used by some resting shepherds when I passed it so I didn’t get a close look. There are several springs along the hike to refill with clean water. Though the last part of the hike is pretty steep and rocky I’m surprised how rarely people from Chiprovtsi go to the falls, especially since 90% of the way can be bypassed by car. Some of my friends have never seen the waterfall, and those that have been there usually only went once or twice. I hiked with another PCV and we didn’t see any other hikers. Hopefully, my sharing with colleagues of how beautiful the falls are and easy to get to will convince them to come with me next time.

A view from Eco Path 'Dyanitsa.'

Trail markers. Though somewhat sporadic, they do exist.

A water fountain, built in 1932. Drinkable water.

Gushovski Monastery Celebration 6 September 2010

Today was the big celebration at the Gushovski monastery ruins. I caught a ride up the mountain with, an older British man who retired to Chiprovtsi three years ago. According to what I’ve heard around town, he prefers his solitude and is quite the loner. However, during the short drive, which took a bit longer due to the vehicles and pedestrians loaded up for picnicking on the one lane road, he was fairly open. Born in Africa, he grew up in Rhodesia (now Zambia), but moved to England, the home of his parents, in the 1960s when he felt things in the country were not going in a direction good for him. I’m not sure what he did in England or if he has any family. But he had some very interesting stories about Africa.

The weather was perfect and the celebration was set up beautifully. On the top of the mountain, the single stone cross, which has signaled the presence of the monastery for hundreds of years, was adorned with flowers and beeswax candles. From the cross to the old monastery below, large Chiprovtsi carpets suspended from wood frames 5meters high created an outside hallway of sorts. It’s difficult to describe the effect this created upon arrival. It was beautiful, impressive, and unreal. Below, hundreds of people were setting up picnics and visiting with friends and family, stands were selling kebabs, orthodox priests were mingling and giving blessings. On top, it was quiet and reverent, all around mountains, no towns visible, only the giant carpets and stone cross. It was an interesting mix.

Now, on to the food, ceremony, and party. Shortly after I arrived, Simona, one of my favorite kids from town, appointed herself my guide. She had just managed to gracefully rescue me from a confusing conversation I had somehow become engaged in with an elderly woman about Kazakhstan and must have determined I was in need of assistance.

We walked around the grounds, saying hello to all of my colleagues, friends, and their families (she knew where everyone was) and exclaiming how lovely everything was. At the stairs to the old church ruins, I bought beeswax candles for us to light by the two stone crosses. A stone cross, nearly identical to the one on top of the mountain, stands in the bottom of the old church and was likewise decorated. Eight other crosses, from the same time and design are located in different spots around Chiprovtsi.

Between the church ruins and the monastery stand a line of 20 or so stone hearths in which giant pots of lamb intestine soup were being prepared-the centerpiece of the celebratory meal. We took a quick look, they smelled okay. After the hellos and photo ops, Simona showed me where Yolka and her family were set up. Yolka had invited me to celebrate with her family earlier in the week and I’d brought a bag of apples, tomatoes, and semi-melted Hershey kisses to contribute.

After drinking some very strong coffee from the small fire next to the table and helping Yolka prepare the salads I was given one of the large metal bowls to carry with me to the ceremony. The large pots of soup had been brought out of the overhang that protects the hearths and placed in a line on the ground. Around them, families were placing empty bowls. I placed the one in my hands next to the nearest pot of soup. Forming a large oval around the line of pots and bowls, each family placed one or two loaves of similar looking homemade bread with a beeswax candle in the middle.

The actual ceremony was brief. A very old, important priest presided. Flanked by two younger priests, he said a few prayers in the church ruins, then walked up the stairs to bless the oval of bread and lamb chorba. The other priests carried incencse and holy water and walked among the people. The bowls were filled, two large ones for our table of seven. I’m not sure how Yolka could tell the loaves of bread apart-they really looked identical-but she sent me to take the soup to the table while she searched. When I returned, she had found the bread, and placed a loaf into my hands. I brought the bread for Yolka’s table to a priest who blessed it and broke the first piece. Another very somber looking priest, carried a bundle of some type of green plant/herb. He dipped it in a bucket of holy water and hit me on the head with the dripping plant while saying another blessing. With a bit of plant fiber irritating one contact, I brought the bread back to Yolka’s table, where an extra large portion of the intestine soup, salad, meats, banitsa, and rakia were already laid out.

Oh the soup! Wanting to show how my gratitude and participatory attitude, and forgetting a similar story my dad had shared with me as a child, I finished my soup quickly and with lots of smiling. I was given seconds. For someone who rarely eats meat, eating a second portion of a dish with obvious hunks of soft intestines in it that has started to cool and coagulate from the grease, was a bit much. I ate that second bowl MUCH slower using lots of bread and leaving a bit on the bottom. After we were all uncomfortably full and the rakia toasts were getting a bit too frequent we piled into a large flat bed truck and headed back to town. The meal had been fantastic (the soup was an experience), as was the accompanying conversation. Even though I had felt awkward not knowing what to do or what was happening, I felt honored to have participated in the celebration with Yolka’s family. It was a really incredible day.

Future Supermodels of Bulgaria

WOW! Again, so impressed with the children from Chiprovtsi. The big kick off show for Chiprovtsi Party Weekend (my name for the series of activities hosted here this weekend) was Friday night. Singers, marching bands, dance troupes, and other talented young Bulgarians from the region performed in the Culture Center’s large concert hall. I missed the other performances—except for the very enthusiastic baton twirlers who I feared might let a loose one fly my way while I was trying to find a spot in the packed theater to photograph my kids—I was busy helping the Chiprovtsi kids get ready. They didn’t sing or dance, they modeled.

Last Sunday, I received a call from one of my colleagues telling me to be at the Culture Center at 5. My understanding was that there was someone there to discuss tourism development with me. I was wrong. Instead, there was a Bulgarian supermodel, originally from Chiprovtsi, who wanted to volunteer by hosting a sort of day camp for the kids while visiting her hometown. I was thoroughly confused how my tourism meeting had turned into me helping corral 30 kids while she instructed them on how to walk a runway. Her plan to have the children, ages 6-11(-ish), make outfits out of recyclable materials (junk from home) and model them in a mini-fashion show during the Friday performances didn’t become entirely clear to me until mid-week. Even then, I wasn’t too sure how this would be pulled off.

My skepticism was furthered by the lack of willingness the kids initially displayed to walk/pose in front of others. If they were too self-conscious to walk across a room, empty except for their peers, wearing their regular clothes, how would they possible model a ridiculous outfit in front of hundreds of people? To me, this sounded like a scenario that could go very bad. Where we going to encourage children, who are already shy about being singled out individually, on a large stage alone in front of family, classmates, and strangers? But, the kids were having a good time and are fun to be around, so I went along with the plan, besides, it how many people would actually be there anyways?

For the rest of the week, I went to the big classroom in the Culture Center after work and language lessons, to help sew jar covers on old dresses, make vests out of milk cartons, and repeatedly assure the girls their outfits were going to look lovely. Since I wasn’t there all day every day, I didn’t really see how it was coming together. It wasn’t until a few hours before the show on Friday that I even saw the kids do a run-through to music. Amazing. They weren’t anything like the kids that stared at the ground while walking across a classroom five days prior. These kids strutted and swaggered across the large stage with plenty of attitude, posing as if adoring fans and hungry paparazzi were waiting just for them (the auditorium held only a handful of marching band early arrivals from Montana, a few moms that were helping with the show, the sound guy, and me).

Hard at work...hanging out during practice, sewing dresses, painting finger nails. I never thought I could be so tired after painting nails, or that I would be doing so in my role as a Peace Corps volunteer...

Still, I thought, it looked like there were going to be A LOT of people. Not just from town. Several buses had arrived with what looked to me like serious performers. When I’d left the day before, the outfits were haphazardly being parsed together, most seemed unfinished and ridiculous…not something even cute 6 year olds could get away with. It was one thing to be confident on stage, but how would they look following a fancy dance group? BUT, we still had 4 hours before going on stage. Tedi took expert control, herding the kids into a large room with a table full of makeup, hair styling tools, and nail polish. While I applied makeup, nail polish, and hair spray, she brought the kids into an adjacent room in groups of two and threes to finalize each of their outfits. They emerged from the assembly line fantastic. They knew it too.

On stage they walked with their heads up, shoulders back, eyes on the crowd. True professionals. Bravo Tedi! These kids, that had been so scared of being in the spotlight 5 days ago, were now confidently displaying their individuality in front of a huge crowd. They received the loudest claps and were easy favorites out of all of the performances. I’m so impressed by them and grateful to have such great kids in my town!

Last minute instructions.

The group walk. Encore.

The BIG 2-4...and other happenings

8/31/2010 I celebrated my 24^th birthday in Bulgaria last Tuesday. It was wonderful!! I was surprised at the number of birthday wishes I received, both from America and Bulgaria, and felt incredibly loved all day. I think I’ve written about the difference between traditions for birthdays in Bulgaria and America in an earlier entry, but now I have a whole new respect for them.

The custom of treating your friends and family (‘cherpi-ing’), on your birthday makes a lot of sense to me. Instead of spending time and money every time someone else’s’ birthday comes around, surprising them with cake or whatever while trying to be fair and creative, in Bulgaria, your turn to treat is on your birthday (and name day, but that’s a different topic). You can make as big or as little of a day out of it as you choose. Also, it gives everyone who may have let the date slipped their minds a reminder to wish you well. I can’t really imagine this happening since I think the date and year of birthdays comes up in almost every introductory conversation I’ve had, right after the questions about siblings and before the ones on religion.

I brought fudge, rice crispy treats (received marshmallows in a care package and substituted cornflakes), hershey kisses, and coca cola. The ‘American’ sweets were a big hit. The rice crispy treats (I received marshmallows in a care package), were especially popular….and, difficult to explain. Marshmalllows are unavailable here and the word translates as a type of flower. Anyways, it was a great day, I was met in the morning by my coworkers wishes of ‘health, happiness, and luck’ in the coming year were and everyone I encountered wished me well. The girls from camp even put “Chestit Rozden den Megan!!”as their skype statuses (big deal for 7^th graders striving to establish their ‘I’m indifferent, yet effortlessly chill images’).

In Other News:

New Friend

The other day an older, raggedy man in his mid-late 70s came into the office I share with three colleagues. He looked like an out of luck panhandler from a large US city, complete with rough clothes and a long grayish-white beard. Appearances aside, he turned out to be a fantastically interesting character and very thoughtful.

As I quickly learned, Nikolai was in town to represent his art on for the opening of the exhibition. He had 20 minutes to fill before the next bus and apparently chose to spend it wandering around the Obshtina. When he learned I was from America, his face lit up. He proceeded to draw me a map of the United States and outlined several states, including Louisiana. His arthritic hands shook severely, but he moved the pin deliberately, saying the names of New Mexico, Nevada, and California while he worked. His mind might be going a bit—he kept trying to speak to me in French even after my colleagues explained I speak Bulgarian and do not understand any French. But, he was able to sharply recall several random words in English (morning, airplane, august, etc.) and wrote on the back of the map.

Several days later…While I was walking to my language tutor’s on my birthday, I recognized a coworker giving direction to a cab driver. I had told Nikolai the date of my birthday during our brief conversation, but I didn’t think anything of it. Birth dates seem to come up frequently when talking to someone for the first time and the Zodiac calendar is a relatively popular diversion among Bulgarians I’ve met. I was completely surprised when the taxi pulled up to the curb and the driver motioned for me to stop and wait. He opened the door and helped the old French-speaking artist step out. Nikolai grasped my hand in both of his, wished me health, happiness, and good luck, gave me a box of candy, and climbed back in the cab to leave.

Fall Now

Winter seemed to arrive this week in Bulgaria with no transition from the intensely hot summer. Last week, I was sleeping without blankets and spent most of my time at home sitting on the tile floor in the kitchen (coolest place). This week, the temperature dipped into the 30s at night. Even though the temperatures haven’t been especially extreme compared to places I’ve been before (80s and 90s doesn’t compare to Louisiana summers and 30s are no where near as cold as upstate NY in the winter), the lack of climate control entirely changes the game. In previous living situations, I’ve always been able to go into a temperature controlled vehicle or building. No more. Although I will have a wood burning stove in my permanent residence, the apartment I currently live in is without any sort of heating element and obviously no air conditioner either. With leaky seals on doors and windows, 30 degrees quickly becomes an extreme temperature.

Melinarka (A raspberry picker)

I’m pretty pleased with the timing of harvests. I was in Kravoder when most of my favorite fruit and vegetables were in season, now they are in season in Chiprovtsi. I get to enjoy them twice.

I went raspberry picking with Yolka this week in her large garden on the edge of town. I know Yolka from the camp I helped with earlier in the summer (she was the amazing cook) and she has a grandson who participates in a lot of the activities around town. She also weaves carpets. Anyways, it was lovely, she sang a song about raspberry pickers (melinarki) and I received a large bag of vegetables and fruit after a few hours of picking/eating raspberries.

I miss working in the garden in Louisiana. What began as an experiment to demonstrate my potential as an agricultural development worker (never appreciated J), turned into a hobby I enjoyed and that gave me great calmness of mind. I hope to help out more in the gardens here more before the final harvest.

Officially, I am here!

After one month and three trips to the office in Montana, I received my lichna carta (Bulgarian ID card)! I feel very official and proud of it. Not that it’s a flattering picture, it’s not, but I feel like I’ve passed some sort of mileston, like when I received my driver’s license after passing a test, except I don’t get to drive and I didn’t have to take a test.

Chiprovtsi Celebrations 4-6 September 2010

Chiprovtsi Municipality and Mayor Zaharin Zamfirov invite you to attend this weekend’s Celebration of the city of Chiprovtsi

All Weekend: Traditional art exhibition from Chiprovtsi, Chuprene, Berkovitsa, and Giorgi Damyanovo Municipalities [Exhibition/Sale runs until the 6^th, See photos below].

Saturday:

Registration for “Three Chuki-2010” mountain bike race; cash prizes awarded to top finishers. See blog entry for more info: http://bikingbulgaria.wordpress.com/2010/08/23/bike-rally-“tri-chuki”-2010/

13:00--Public meeting to discuss local development of Leadership Action Group

Obshtina, Chiprovtsi

17:30--Opening of new Tourist Information Center; Exhibition “Man and Mountain” Presented by Chiprovtsi Historical Museum; Symposium of paintings, graphics, and carvings by the Society of Artists TENETS-Montana

Cultural Center "Peter Bogdan - 1909"

18:30--Youth fashion show of eco-friendly outfits created from recycled material

Cultural Center "Peter Bogdan - 1909"

Concerts by: Brass Orchestra Sciences, Montana,Youth Brass Band, Varshets, Dance Group in ODK, Montana, Vocal Group in ODK, Montana,Vocal Formation Torlashki chants

Chiprovtsi Center Square

SUNDAY:

10:30--“Three Chuki-2010” mountain bike race begins, award ceremony to follow at Gushovski Monastery at 15:30. Technical guidance and number distribution begins at 8:30

Race Map:

20:00--Concert: Rajko Kirilov http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=264sIK6EVAw&feature=related

Gushovski Monastery

Monday: Gushovski Monastery Celebration

9:00-?

Pictures of celebration from prior years

Gushovski Monastery was built in the 17^th century and destroyed during the 1688 Chiprovtsi Uprising. Near the ruins, rows of traditional stone hearths for bread making, a stone drinking spring, a stage, and other things have been built for visitors. The celebration also marks the anniversary of the 1688 Chiprovtsi Uprising against the Ottomans. The Uprising and the intellectual awakening that preceded it are thought to be the beginning of the resurgence of Bulgarian identity and national resistance.

Examples from the Traditional Art Expo:

All items are for sale. In addition to traditional carpets, metal work, and carvings, there are some incredible pieces created from carpet weaving. The girl and old couple depicted below were weaved by hand on a traditional loom. For perspective on the amount of work that goes into this, it takes one month, 8 hours of day of work for a woman to complete a basic carpet. The bottom carpet is my favorite. The threads of the trunk and branches weave in and out of the carpet.