AMAZING LADIES:

Not everyone in Bulgaria would agree with me, but every weekday when I see the Romi street cleaners keeping every part of this city clean for its citizens and guests I think what amazing women they are.

I first saw them in our training village of Varshets. I thought at the time it was unique to that town and a great way to provide employment. It was summer, there was always some litter on the sidewalks, but more often there were nature’ droppings…….seed pods, leaves, flower pedals or fruit that if left unattended, made the area “grungy”. Most fascinating when I first saw them were their brooms. Tied onto the end of a wooden pole (or sometimes a stick) was a thicket of shrub branches, easily replaced when worn and always available. Most important they were FREE. Scattered throughout town, these ladies methodically swept not only the sidewalks but the street gutters as well!

I was a bit surprised when we moved to the big city and once again saw the Romi street cleaners. During the fall they were responsible for “raking” the leaves not only on the streets and sidewalks but also from under the shrubs in the parks and along the street medians. For weeks on end they fought what seemed like a loosing battle, but Mother Nature finally gave up having shed the last of her foliage, and they were victorious.

With the leaves all swept away, I wondered if they would continue to work through the winter. Absolutely! They continued with the daily cleaning of sidewalks but as the weather worsened and the snow made its appearance and the ice started forming, they took on new responsibilities. Outfitted with flat wooden shovels and bags of sand they now cleared the sidewalks or chipped away at the ice at the bus stops, making it safer and easier for all of us hurrying to work or tending to our needs.

With the threat of snow past for another year, came the spring clean-up. All the sand they had carefully spread throughout the winter now lay heaped in the gutters, or filled sidewalk crevices. Very methodically they swept and bagged it all, swept the garden lawns and prepared the city for another rebirth.

I love walking this city, but I particularly enjoy it when the Romi street cleaners have preceded me. They are what keep the city from looking like a dump as many of its residents do not think twice about littering. If they were ever to “strike” the city would look quite different in just a week’s time.

Just like a child who's attention is heightened with the musical call of the ice cream truck on hot summer days, my ears perk when I hear the "swish, swish" of the tree branch brooms. I know the ladies are close by.

So to you ladies, I extend a smile, a greeting and my heartfelt appreciation for the amazing job you do!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lynn 

SUMMER CAMP

There are a number of ideas that Peace Corps pounds into our heads right from the get go. One of them is the idea of SUSTAINBILITY in terms of skill transfer and projects. It has been a problem for Peace Corps from its inception. It is all grand and good for the Americans to come into a country with ideas, energy, optimism, idealism, resources and so much more, but it is another thing for our work to continue long after we are gone. There are “Volunteer Monuments” all across the globe…libraries that are unused, computer labs without technicians to maintain them, gyms that are locked and so on. Obviously there are many successful projects and significant skill transfer resulting from volunteer efforts, but it is still a hole into which many of us fall.

With this in mind I did NOT want to do the summer camp I was asked by my school director to organize with my counterpart. The reason being, that a PCV had done such a camp three years ago and it had not been repeated since. Where was the SUSTAINABILITY?  Running a camp also meant finding funding….never a fun thing to do in my minds’ eye. Some people are good at it. Let’s just say it has always been one of those organization jobs I have always avoided carefully. The last road block was a shortage of time. In true Bulgarian fashion we were not asked to start working on this until after Easter break…basically the middle of April.

With no choice but to move forward I decided to try and make it worthwhile. Actually like so many projects it started with a loose framework and flushed out as we went. The first thing to do was understand how the previous camp had been run and why it had not been repeated.  After hearing about it the two key elements that I thought needed changing were the number of kids involved in the camp and a change in staff. Previously PCV were brought in from the neighboring region to engage the kids in games and crafts. As stated by Petya, they camp did not continue because there were no PCVs. I hoped to go from 40 campers to 120 and from PCV running the camp to teachers implementing the activities. (We reached 95 students and 7 teachers worked the camp) We decided a theme would add more meaning to the activites for the week and started under the larger umbrella of “environment” and narrowed it to “litter” a major problem in the mahala.  Internet searches, books etc offered many ideas for games and projects and the camp started taking form. Writing the proposal resulted in defining goals for the students and teachers as well. There were still approval and funding hoops to negotiate (some done by Mike while I was in the US) but at last we got the go ahead and the funding just in time.

Now that the camp is behind me I can say with great pleasure that it exceeded my expectations in so many ways. I never doubted that the children would enjoy it, but I did not anticipate they would enjoy it so much. The satisfaction reaches beyond the children though, to the teachers who implemented the camp as well as other on-lookers including Roma security and custodial staff. Not only were the activities new for the children, but the idea of learning through games and fun was as well. To have the adults recognize the value in this was what energized me. It was seeing kids who struggle everyday in school with behavior because they are learning disabled, fully engaged, having fun and being successful that made all the work worthwhile. It was seeing the teachers work in teams, negotiating the dynamics of leadership and support, offering their own suggestions and having them implemented that reflected signs of change, and it was seeing the kids working in pairs, small groups and larger teams successfully that convinced me they are capable of whatever is expected of them.  The camp was not without flaws and not as successful as we would have liked if measured by the “indicators of success” required by the project funders, but from my point of view it was wildly successful. Will the lessons learned by the students be evident in September? Perhaps, if we reinforce them with a school wide “anti-littering” campaign.  Is it sustainable?  I’m not sure, but it has a better chance than the last camp because it was completed by them, not for them, and with another year to practice the skills learned at this years camp …..it just might continue beyond my service.

 

   

      

  

   

 

LYNN

Bright Lights!

A few weeks ago, while standing at the bus stop, I noticed a man painting the light posts. He was working only on the lower part.....whatever he could reach without a ladder. I was impressed that the rusty light post had been primed. He was painting it a metallic blue.....looked nice....wonderful improvement. I looked to my right and noticed that the poles on my side of the street and the center median had also recently received the same attention. The sentinels on the other side of the street were still wearing their rusty red uniforms.  It lifted my spirits to think one of the indicators of a neglected infrastructure was being addressed. But how wide spread would this phenomena be? The 30 minute bus ride was spent scanning the city streets, looking for other blue metallic light poles. hey came and went as I traveled through different neighborhoods.

During the ensuing weeks I have watched the various stages of work being done, and felt sorry for the man who was prepping the poles. He was sanding them by hand with a fold of sandpaper (could it possibly be 3M paper?). My heart went out to him, knowing that once again in Bulgaria the tools of work never seem to match the size of the job. I can't imagine in the states that the removal of over 20 years of rust on a whole city's network of light poles would be tackled by an individual with sandpaper!!!

As I travel around the city my eye is continually drawn to the light poles and the difference they make in the overall appearance of the area. I wonder how many other people have noticed. To me it changes the mood of the street.  I believe that by summer's end, the whole city will be brightened (we'll see about Stolipinovo) by freshly painted light poles. Is it too much to hope, that there is a plan to do something with the bus stops as well!!!!

Lynn

Why Aren’t You Going…..Home??? Notes From a “Whiney” American

Why Aren’t You Going…..Home???

Notes From a “Whiney” American

As many of you may know, Lynn is back in the US for a quick one-week trip.   The major reason for the trip is to see Scott before he deploys to Iraq.   But she is also combining it with some preparation work for Shawn and Chrissy’s wedding in September.   (We will both be coming back for two weeks then.) 

Since Lynn is going back, I have gotten the question from several people “Why aren’t you going also?”  It is a fair question.  And, I do have an answer.   The first part of the answer is that Lynn and I had been discussing only her going home for a long time.  However, we did not know if Scott would have any time before he left.   As the XO (executive officer), he is the one responsible for all the paperwork, checking, and double-checking to be sure everything gets to Iraq.  While we were waiting for final clearance and information from Scott, Lynn and I had only been thinking that Lynn would be one going.   “It is a Mom-thing”, and I was OK with that.  Although I would have liked to see Scott, I did not have a strong need to do it, and Lynn did. 

However, as event finally unfolded (and all this happened in about 36 hours), Scott did have more time off than we thought, and Lynn could actually get almost two days with him.   As we worked though all the logistics, and checking flights (and having British air cancel all of the preliminary reservations because of a pending strike – so we had to start again), we kept our focus on getting Lynn there.  The day after we had made the reservation, we looked at each other, and asked “Did I want to go?”   I had really not thought about it!  Often in life, you have a goal or direction, and you get blinders on – just seeing that one thing.  You can miss everything else.  So… I had not thought about it.   Did I want to go? I was not sure.  But why not? 

The first reason was simple.  I still did not feel I had to see Scott.  We do get to see him often on Skype, and talk a lot.   The second reason was that I would be home in about two and a half months for the wedding.  The third reason was much more complex, confusing, and obscure. 

When we made the decision to accept the Peace Corps Invitation, we also decided we did not want to return to the states during the two year tour.   We had read that coming back to the states was hard because you would experience all the things you are missing.  And… then you  would have to go back to Bulgaria – and forget again all those things Americans take for granted.  It would be like Tantalus seeing what he wanted, and then turning away.  We did not want to do that.   However, that decision and strategy got changed shortly before we left when Shawn and Chrissy announced they were getting married.  (By the way – we are very glad to be coming home for that.)   But, I still had those feelings (or maybe fears) about going back to “cushy America”. 

You maybe asking yourself, “What is Mike talking about?  I have seen them say how happy they are in Bulgaria.  What is different now?   All of that is very true!!  Lynn and I are probably as happy here as we have ever been anywhere.  But we have adapted, accepted, and embraced our life here.  I have happily forgot most of the things I took for granted at home, and go about life here like most Bulgarians.   But – lest you think life here is a “cake-walk”, let me give you an idea of a few of the many things that I have conveniently “erased from my mind”.   Although this may seem like a list of “whiney” complaints, it is not!  Think of it as a way to better understand our life, and the Peace Corps experience.   Before I launch into the list, remember Lynn and I are very happy here, and I will say that again at the end of the list. 

A few things I miss from America

1. My car – and the ability to go anywhere, anytime, without waiting for a bus.
2. The comfy leather seats with lumbar back support in the car
3. The six speaker sound system in the car that I can crank up full volume when the mood strikes me.
4. The 3.2 liter engine that can tear down the interstate and make me think that “I am king of the world”. 
5. The garage which is just 12 feet from the door to the warm house
6. The garage door that goes up and down at the touch of a button
7. Never getting wet going from the car to the house.
8. My own “full-size American” bathroom.  Lynn and I share a 5 by 6 bath now.
9. Heat in the bath room – especially in winter! (You have no idea how cold toilet seats can get.  Some volunteers had their seats crack and break this winter.)
10. Taking showers for as long as you want!  The hot water will not run out. 
11. A king size bed!
12. A comfortable mattress that doesn’t make you stiff every morning
13. An electric blanket to keep you warm – especially when you first get into bed in the winter.
14. An ergonomic office chair.
15.  Our home office.  (right now, every day I work at our kitchen table – until it is time to eat when I move my computer)
16.  A large monitor to easily view – like the one at home
17.  A comfortable lazy-boy chair.  (Now I use a chair like you have in a meeting room for eating, working, and most everything.)
18. A view of the St.  Croix River out our bedroom window.
19. Watching the bald eagles soar at eye-level off the bluff from the back yard.
20. Biking the back roads of Wisconsin.
21. Our cozy home in Wisconsin instead of the 420 sq feet apartment we have here.
22. A Dairy Queen cone when ever I want it. (That may be why I weighted 20 pounds more at home.)
23.  An “American-size” refrigerator stocked with cold food and drinks
24. Several types of Wisconsin cheese instead of only one kind of white or yellow cheese.  
25. Our doctors, dentists, good hospitals, and great health care just 5 minutes away.
26. A government that functions efficiently (you should see how poorly things work here) without blatant “mafia control” of most everything. 

Well, I could probably keep going till I reach 100 on the list.  But I hope you get the idea.  Remember, LYNN AND I ARE VERY HAPPY HERE!  But that does not mean Bulgaria is a paradise, and our lives here are without small trials.  When you have been here for a short time, you begin to appreciate so much more what we have in America.  And most of the things you miss are what everyone takes for granted at home.  Possibly the most important thing to understand is that the vast majority of people on earth live like we are living now here in Bulgaria (or MUCH WORSE).  America really is unique and special.  And most Americans do not have a clue just how lucky they are to have been born American.  Unless you have experienced something like we are experiencing, I don’t believe any American can begin to understand “how good they have it”.    Recently, I found a short presentation which emphasizes this.  If you have read this far in the blog, please take a couple more minutes to view these few slides.  Global Village - Only 100 people on earth   

No matter how I feel today, I will be home for the wedding, - experiencing and remembering all the things I have conveniently forgot.  (And probably loving every minute of the "American Experience"!!)  I’ll see you all in late August.   

Mike

Andy and the Volcano

Andy and the Volcano

Andy Viner made it to visit with us over the May first weekend. Although I was worried that 3M would cancel his flight because of expenses, the trip was not cancelled. And then when all of Europe’s air space was closed due to the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in Iceland, I was sure he would not make it. But, I was just being too pessimistic. All the parts of his arrival flights were on time, and everything worked out great. Even “Mother Nature”, and the Volcano could not stop this reunion.

I have read several of the blogs of the younger volunteers who have talked about their parents, siblings, or relatives visiting. They always talk about how great it is to see them, and how much they appreciate it. As I read those blogs, I had always thought it was because they were “kids”, and their loving parents had come to see them. Well – after our visit from Andy, I am seeing this in a slightly different perspective. Yes – it was great to have Andy here, but some of the reason it was so good was because of things that I had never thought about, or expected. I expect the other volunteer visits were good for some of the same “unexpected” reasons.

Lynn and I are immersed in our day to day life here. As we have said before, the changes, confusion, differences, and challenges all tend to eventually “blur” into one murky pattern of every-day life. We don’t always think about things. But, when a guest comes (especially an inquisitive one like Andy), I found that I had this unexpected “drive” and desire to talk about everything. I did not realize I had this need to talk, (and talk, and talk) about all that we have learned, experienced, and assimilated here. But, when given the opportunity, I found it hard to keep my mouth shut! (Please – no comments about that has always been an issue for me!) Thankfully, Andy was a very helpful partner in this, and constantly kept asking questions. And then I could just keep on talking.

The other part of this pattern is that I don’t believe any of this would happen unless people visit us. The guests have to be here to see situations, and ask questions. Without those questions, most people would quickly get very bored just trying to listen to us, and understand what we are saying. In fact, we have been told when we return, we have to expect that most people will only want to hear about 5-10 minutes of our experiences before their eyes will “glaze over”, and their heads will begin to nod.

Although Andy may have gotten tired with the pace we had, his head never nodded. We had a great time. Following are some pictures, and the schedule we had for the visit.

Thursday –

A “jet-lagged” Andy was up early, and we went off to visit Lynn’s school, and walk through the Mahala (always an “interesting” experience. 

Then we had lunch with folks from my foundation. My counterpart Krum is on the left. Ivan, our director, is next to him, and Maria is the person who is in the office with me most of the time.   

After that, we just spent time walking around our beautiful city.

Friday –

We took the train an hour and half north to visit Hisar. Hisar has some of the most extensive Roman ruins in the Balkan Region.

Saturday –

In the morning, we drove with my foundation to a small village about 40 minutes away to watch a folk dancing competition which was sponsored and organized by us last year. This year, the village did it all on their own. In the afternoon, we just finished a easy walk around Plovdiv completing the tour of our town.

Sunday –

I took Andy to a monastery 40 minutes south of us into the mountains. The visit to the monastery was quick, but the hike into the mountains from there was longer, and more challenging. The quiet, solitude, and spectacular views from the mountain tops made the struggles getting there worth while.

Monday –

I took Andy back to the airport in Sofia by train. The ride goes near some snow-covered mountains, and was an easy trip. His flights back to the UK were on time, and uneventful.

We had a great time. And, we think Andy had fun too. In addition to his visit, he also had about a half a suitcase full of goodies for us. Thanks to all the folks who helped with the supplies. We are already using them!

We have decided it is really nice having visitors. Although we really don’t expect any others, we will welcome everyone who decides to go through the trials of traveling almost half way around the world to see us.

But most importantly – Thanks to Andy for being the explorer – the first to visit.

Mike

A Look at Special Education in Bulgaria

The education of children with special needs in Bulgaria is in its infancy. Like so many things here, you can compare it to the United States about 50 years ago. Traditionally any child with a physical or mental handicap has been institutionalized and like many of our institutions in the 60’s and 70’s, they have been pretty deplorable.

There are no children in the schools here with physical limitations with the possible exception of deafness, or blindness. There is a school for the deaf near my school, but you will not find these students in a regular classroom. I know of a very bright high school student who is blind and attends one of the better Plovdiv high schools and does very well. I know there are teachers in the municipality who work with special needs students, but it is usually for a minimal time per month, and rarely in the school setting. Mitko is a first grader, who on the very first day of school I picked out of the crowd as someone who was probably ADHD. He has an engaging smile and is always eager to greet anyone he meets, but he quickly demonstrated the confines of school were challenging for him. I believe by Christmas he was no longer coming to school. The explanation was that he was seeing a resource teacher. On a few occasions following that I did see a man who visits the school periodically try to work with Mitko in the library. Mitko was having his way, dictating the terms of engagement, and I have not seen them working together since. I don’t know what has happened to Mitko, whether he is attending a different school, is receiving a few hours of education a week from the “specialist” at home, or has just fallen through the cracks. Whatever it is, it is not enough.

On Friday of this week, I visited a friend whose assignment here in BG is to work with the special needs population. She works in two settings, an orphanage and a day care center for disabled students. I spent about three hours at the orphanage and two at the center with her. They were very different, and rightly so. Though they both serve a special needs population, their directives are very different.

The orphanage is just that on one level. There were healthy children who are orphans or whose parents can not care for them for whatever reason, but do not want to give them up to the state permanently. The families may have contact with the child, while others are put up for adoption. The second group is the severely physically or mentally handicapped. As difficult as it was to see some of these children lying in their cribs, often with contorted emaciated bodies, and to be acutely aware of the quiet due to lack of verbalization, you can see that efforts are being made to change the way things are done in Bulgaria regarding these children. The facility I visited was a “campus” of three buildings, a lot of outdoor space in an enclosed compound on the far edge of a village outside a larger city. It was very clean, bright, and well staffed with both professionals and “helpers”. The children were clean, well dressed, and noticeably missing was the “institutional” smell, as we traveled from one room to another. It is clear, however, the caregivers think of their jobs as just that…”caregivers”. I could not help but think of the complaints I used to mentally lodge against the nursing homes where both Mike’s and my mothers lived out the end of their lives. Attendants would care for the physical needs of their charges, but attempts at engaging them seemed minimal. Perhaps it is a necessary outcome of institutional care.

The orphanage does have a “baba” program, which pairs some of the children with a “baba” (grandmother) for several hours a day. They have their own playroom and are encouraged to interact physically with the children, engage them in play and in general stimulate them. For some “babas” it is an opportunity to chat with their friends, but to their credit, they were always holding a child when they did. These children may not be getting the directed intervention US educators would like to see, but they were getting more than those who did not have a “baba”. The “baba” culture here in BG (as in so many places including the US) is to “do for the child”, so independence is not encouraged, though many of the kids are capable of independence with directed skill building.

There is also a special wing of one building which houses a “day care center”. The group is small and most of the children who attend the day care program are actually residents of the orphanage. The funding for the creation of the center was from an EU grant or program, thus relatively new. It is currently under the budget of the orphanage. There is a different staff for this program and there was a more interactive environment here. It was closer to a special needs classroom in the states, but the intention to teach was not as strong.

The frustrations experienced by my friend revolve around knowing what can be done with these children, but working with people who can be openly hostile about change and the possibility that it could be different. Even the professionals….doctors and psychologist are not supportive. Some practices are so contrary to those of the U.S. it is extremely difficult to not get upset when seeing them. For example, in two of the buildings there were bedrooms with the most physically disabled kids who generally spend 22 hours a day in their cribs. We went into both of these rooms and there was not a staff member present. Perhaps the kids are checked on periodically, but there is not a constant vigil. They are also tucked furthest away from any activity, making it less likely someone will just “pop” in to see or talk to them. There was not music or radio to fill the space, and rarely was there anything on their cribs to look at. This seemed worse than solitary confinement in prison. Many of these children’s deformities have worsened because of being in these cribs for such prolonged periods of time. There is no muscle on their bones. Stripped they would look like the ads of the children in a campaign against starvation. Some have lived their fifteen years of life like this. We entered playrooms to find eight children on the floor unsupervised or with an adult sitting on a couch disengaged from the kids. Again, no music, no attempts to encourage language, very little physical contact. It was explained to me that children with epilepsy are the worst off because it is believed that if you touch them it will cause a seizure. They most often are the ones in the cribs.

The high point of my visit was to get a little guy sitting in a foam padded play space to giggle out loud. Just some tickling, talking, and floor play had him laughing. I had seen this child earlier in the day care and he was so serious and afraid. The care taker in the room where I played with him was sitting on a nearby seat just watching. The power of suggestion can be a strong one. I hope it left a mark here.

After three hours, we headed back to the city, took a lunch break and walked the 25 minutes to the day care center. Whereas there are about 80 residents at the orphanage, the center serves the needs of about 40 children. It is chartered to serve students 3-18 years. Some come for the whole day, others following a half day in the public school and still others just for services such as speech therapy. Again the facility was bright and clean, with plenty of space. The kids were divided between two floors or activity areas. The staff here was engaging and excited about the PCV’s work. Within the last six weeks she had had a major breakthrough with an autistic child she started a behavioral program with. I watched the videos the center recorded of her work and was so excited myself about the changes in this little boy in six weeks. No one believed it possible, but it is difficult to argue with reality. The videos will be a wonderful tool to use in discussions with the psychologist and doctor who were sure nothing could be done for this child.

In the back of my head since I arrived has been the thought that I would like to work in some way in an orphanage. Plovdiv has about five of them, though I have not been able to locate them. This summer will be the perfect time to get started. Even if I am simply a “baba”, I may be able to model and encourage some “new and unusual” ways of interacting with these special needs children. It is a challenge to be patient when there is so much work to be done.

LYNN

Easter and the Black Sea

View of "Old Town and the fortress

Easter and the Black Sea

My spring break was a full 11 days long. This was a bit unusual because it combined the school break with the four day Easter weekend. The weather was not great, but it provided time to just decompress. I think as the days and tasks of living in a foreign country, working in an environment fundamentally different from one’s life experience and still “only getting by” with the language blend together, we loose track of the little stressors that do add up. As I spent hours just enjoying a novel and staring at the sea I could feel the tensions evaporating.

Mike had the four day weekend off, so we planned a trip to the Black Sea, “a must see” area of Bulgaria. We chose to stay in a small historical town, Sozopol, just south of Borgas one of the two large cities on the coast. It was absolutely wonderful.

The five hour train ride from Plovdiv to Borgas, like most train rides in Bulgaria was a visual delight. The deep rich earth of the freshly plowed fields contrasted with the adjacent bright green fields of winter wheat. The rolling hills were topped off with pom-poms of blossoming apple trees, and carpets of yellow wild flowers and forsythia carpeted the edges of the tracks. In the distance on both sides were the protective walls of the mountains. It is a mystery how and when the fields are turned as there are no farm houses every mile or two surrounded by colorful equipment, standing ready.  Great distances would pass between the tiny villages struggling to survive while its residents live a life of decades past. 

 Cobblestoned streets and wooden Revival style homes.

                   

Sozopol a thirty minute bus ride south of Borgas sits on the tip of a peninsula, jutting into the Black Sea. The tip forks and to the left is “the old town” and to the right is “new town”. The bus dropped us off on the isthmus connecting the two. Waiting were eager residents offering rooms in their homes. We agreed to take a look at one place offered by a cab driver who lived in the center of old town with his family. No pressure, just look and if we didn’t like it …that would be OK. Because his home was in “old town” we agreed to look.  Old town is less than a mile wide and maybe two long, but packed into that space is a labyrinth of tiny cobbled streets with many houses from Bulgaria’s 19^th century Revival Period. They have a distinct architectural style with a stone lower level and wooden upper level. Some of these old homes had the original wood siding and others had been beautifully and carefully restored. With stories and history lessons as we made our way the short distance through town we arrived at the guest house and were shown around. We decided to stay. Ramon then dropped us off at a restaurant on the sea for lunch. 

                                                                       LUNCH: The top balcony was a single table for two!  

T

   

We had a private little space with just one table for two overlooking the sea and facing a few small islands. We spent the rest of the afternoon just walking and exploring, catching it all in pictures before returning to our very typical Bulgarian guest room. While exploring we had checked out open restaurants and decided on one specializing in fish near the small harbor for dinner. We were the only diners sitting on what in season would be the           outside patio, heated by a propane heater. With only one table to serve, the service exceeded the Bulgarian norm, when there is often one waitperson for the whole restaurant!

Saturday Morning had us out early with the intention of moving to a new location. There wasn’t anything in particular wrong with where we were, but with the sea within sight from so many places, and my soul longing to be reenergized by it, I really wanted to move.

We found a small hotel with a dining room, hanging on the cliff’s edge close the tip of the peninsula. It was perfect, with a corner couch in front of a large picture window with the bay and sea as the backdrop. Walks to “new town”, further exploration of the “old town” more picture taking and hours reading between visits to the dining room filled the rest of our stay.

On Saturday evening we joined residents and visitors outside the church for an Easter Vigil service. Our cab driver had told us about it so we had some understanding of what should happen. Throughout the day people were seen emerging from the church with tall thin candles, some with just a few, and others with handfuls of them. At the vigil, votive candles were brought forth from the church and circulated so all could light their own. For such a little place, the crowd felt large.  Eventually Mike could see a cross bearer exit the church and make his way to the front of the crowd. The procession moved slowly, everyone trying to keep their candle lit. We later learned, the goal was to return home with the lit candle, to bring good fortune and blessings upon one’s home and family throughout the year. We made it back to the hotel with our candles still lit! Not sure if that counts, but we considered ourselves “successful”. What we could not see and did not experience was the tradition of walking around the church three times with the lit candles and the return to church for a service. Only a few devotees participated in these rituals.

The tone of the weekend changed drastically late Sunday afternoon when we left Sozopol behind and visited a fellow B25 in Borgas. Chris lives on the top floor of a Communist block with a view of the Romi/Turkish mahala where he works just below him.

As is always the case, the mahala was quite separate from the city proper. He has done a great job integrating into his “work community” shopping at their little stores, visiting their cafes and in general living with them. He, and as an extension, Mike and I were invited to dinner by a friend of Chris’, a Romi and his family. We were picked up and after checking with us that we felt comfortable going into the mahala, we were off to dinner. The Romi and Turks have their own prejudicial attitudes toward each other, but are often forced into living with each other. This particular mahala has invisible boundaries with Romi or Turkish sections and streets. In general the Romi are poorer than the Turks, and thus live in the worst part of the mahala. So off to the very back corner we went. There certainly was a sense of familiarity about it, as it became more and more difficult to navigate through the people that have no other outdoor space to go to other than the unpaved, rutted streets. Abandoned scrap cars are playscapes for children, and crates, metal scraps or “whatever” are benches for watching the world go by!.

Our host had a lovely family, two sons in the primary grades and the youngest a girl of kindergarten age. Their home had three rooms, with the “living room” doubling as the parents’ bedroom. The edge of the bed provided some seating and an assortment of other sitting stools were arranged around the table lower in height than our norm. Salads and a lamb and rice dish were the main course. Two additional roasted legs of lamb were also offered.  People seemed to come and go throughout the meal: a son sent off to buy juice, a sister–in-law- stopping by to bring news of a funeral in another part of the country the next day, and a mother to meet the Americans.  With antennae up, one tries to be sensitive to the work and effort that went into the meal, while watching to see how much everyone else is eating, knowing what an expense this was for the family. Trying to balance being appreciative while calculating how much to leave behind on the serving platters for future meals is never easy. I have no idea how we did. The special homemade Easter cookies were brought out which we know from our “cultural lessons” takes a lot of time and effort to prepare. Most Bulgarians now buy these Easter cookies. They were sweet with a hint of lemon. Without time to clean up, we rushed off to church.

This young couple (in their early 30s) are members of one of the Evangelical Churches that are taking root in the mahalas. There were about two hundred people of all ages in attendance. As guests we were quickly whisked to front row seats and asked to introduce ourselves at the beginning of the service. The building was a plain hall decorated with construction paper signs and artificial flowers. An electric keyboard was prominent front and center. The children opened the program with song and sayings, led by a woman that had “teacher” qualities about her. Their ages were from about 4 to 14. I was impressed as they sang a number of songs from memory and with heart. So often we hear that the Romi “don’t understand the Bulgarian language”. These children were clearly not having a problem with it as they sang and recited prayers all in Bulgarian. The children were well behaved. They were quiet and respectful, coming and going during the 2 ½ hour service. The women offered praise through song next, followed by a small group of four or five young men. I had the feeling there was something special and different about these young men from most in the mahala. Mike and Chris were brought up front to join the men. Mike’s uncertainty of what was to come next was evident on his face as Chris was asked to say a few words (in Bulgarain). Mike was spared and the singing began. With all the musical praise completed, the preacher took the podium. We could identify the general gist of the sermon, but always became anxious when reference was made to us. At the end, we were greeted by most members of the congregation with warm hearts and kind smiles. Certainly a different Easter, but not without spiritual significance.

LYNN