not so fist hearted

Its surprisingly easy to be back here. I have my qualms with American culture, but it isn't as though they didn't proceed my trip to Bulgaria. I miss a lot of things about Sofia, and I will continue to miss those things, but dammit, my friends and my parents here are really quite awesome and they are definitely worth coming home to.

Now I am off to the east coast. Not really sure why I am leaving, but I guess it makes sense. I have to fully greet my country before I can settle back in to life.

My livejournal post was much more profound... but right now, I really can't be bothered.

karadare reflections

The beach was beautiful. But I think I prefer mountains. Something about spending that much time relaxing really tired me out. In reality, we ran out of sun screen and I was so afraid of turning bright red that I spent most of the last two days sipping nescafe in the bar reading Palace Walk. It was quite nice. And a great way to reflect on the last 2.5 months of my life.

It was funny, Katerina was paging through a magazine on the picnic table and stumbled across a five page article on Minnesota. Is it a sign? Or maybe just a coincidence. Who knows, but I found it very amusing. I wanted to take the article, but I restrained myself.

Didn't see any dolphins or sharks, but I imagined them playing out in the distance. The waves were really strong, but I found that if I went in deeper I could ride over them more easily. I am a much better swimming than I think I am... Neither of the girls with me knew how to swim. Bon fire's at night with African drums and singing. Early mornings waking with the heat of the sun. Crashing around on the waves, walking along the coast, being treated to shopska salat by friendly Bulgarians, meeting English speaking Bulgarians at the bar... twas nice.

But I am happy to be back in sunny sofia where my friends and surrogate family reside.

karadare

I am going to the sea by night train tonight. I am going to a beach that's a fourty five minute walk from the nearest inhabitant. It is the last untouched piece of sea coast left and it will be developed within the next two years. Dolphins, swans, nude beach... should be interesting. Anyway, camping on the beach, eating only what we bring, drinking only what we bring. I'm sick as hell, but maybe the relaxation will do me some good. that and the questionable over-the-counter antibiotics.... what a strange country this is.

But the moral of the story is I won't be back until the night of the 5th and I will have no contact with the outside world (except cell phone if there is some emergency) so if you don't hear from me, you know why.

Chow- wish me happy dolphins, friendly sharks and beautiful sunrises! And ... you know... tolerable sun burns. (Nude beach... hmmm)

Chow

apologies

My apologies- I wrote that last blog entry in a state of extreme and possibly somewhat blind determination. I am going to visit between the 10th or 11th and the 19th or 20th or something. I will go to Baltimore first to visit Peter, then DC, the NYC and upstate NY if Oliver is there, which it seems like he won't be. It was just a crazy idea yesterday, but now it seems like it might actually happen! And of course I intended to ask you all before inviting myself (though I did get an open invitation to bitch about the US in a garden at any time...)

Giving oneself something to look forward is a very good defense mechanism.

plane tickets

I just found out I can't change my plane ticket. My whole plan is fucked, I only have a week left and I am spending most of it on the sea.

When I get home, I am going to take an East coast road trip to reflect on my life and visit my sister and uncle and peter and his brother... and no mom and dad, you can't convince me otherwise.

So... um... I will be home on the 8th. I let you know when. But I am leaving on the tenth for the east coast. I'm pretty upset. I'm not ready to go home.

hostel life

The hostel is full. In fact, all hostels in all of Sofia are full. Which means, of course, that I have been sleeping all over Sofia in a wide variety of people's home's. Last night I slept in a twin sized bed at Ana's house that I shared with Katerina. However, due to the fact that I was at the liberty of their time schedule, i went to sleep at 4:30 and woke up at 9... Two months of sleep deprivation is starting to grate on me. I have fantasies of sleeping on clouds and hard wood floors and anywhere that is big enough to curl up in fetal position and catch some sleep. I have slept at Reiny's place, Boby's place, Ana's, two different people named Peter's, Stefan's... I have slept across three chairs, I have slept in a mildewy basement and woken up with a sore throat the next morning. I have even slept in one arm chair, curled up in fetal position. But tonight I have a bed. In my own room. With no one else snoring or waking me up too early. I can sleep any time of the day behind a locked door. Peter is on vacation in Varna and I have the key to his room. I will sleep like a baby, only without the crying and waking up in the middle of the night... I will sleep like a sleep deprived homeless young adult who, for the first time in two months, has her own room... I can't wait.

Life is good. I am exhausted.

Never want to say goodbye

The weight of leaving this place is starting to set in. Maybe its the cloudy, cold weather or maybe its the annoying French teenagers who took over my dormitory and stole my glasses and threw my shower sandals out the window and clogged the toilet with tampons and broken glass (though you would think such an experience would cloud my positive vision of Bulgaria). I've been talking a lot to two friends of mine named Peter (Peter Roetke and Peter Rusev- this really is the summer of the Peters...) about culture clashes and MN peter and I both agree that Bulgarian culture has changed both of us immensely. Peter Rusev is a Bulgarian actor/director living in Denmark trying to make his films, so he's experiencing the same culture clash that us MNs have (only from the other side)- between the stoic, emotionless, passive aggressive, always positive, black and white culture of Scandinavia versus the open, warm, overflowing-with-emotions culture of Bulgaria. Both MN Peter and I are much more open than we were when we came here- we can see it in ourselves and we can see it in each other. Katerina and Annie make fun of me all the time- when I first came here, on my very first night I sat with the two of them at the hostel bar. They were trying so hard to get me out of my shell and I was hopelessly shy and scared- scared of Bulgaria, scared of adventure, scared of new things, scared of the language barrier. And now that they've known me for two months, they can see that I've changed. I speak freely, I bubble over with warmth and affection- I am so much more outgoing than I was when I got here. But its not only warmth that defines Bulgarian social skills- they aren't afraid to point out what's wrong with the world. I've had so many conversations about the government and communism and repression and the education system here and corruption and... and no one is afraid to point out what's wrong with the world. In Denmark, Peter tries to do the same thing and they always say "Be positive, Peter." Like being constructively critical is somehow a sin- like every human has a switch in their brain- positive, negative, positive, negative. There is no gray, there is no middle ground. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are a lot of things wrong in Bulgaria, a lot of things that are totally backwards. But the people are not one of those things. The people here have hearts of gold. Always kind, helpful, generous. Maybe they have nothing, but they will give you everything. Not like individualistic American culture where everyone has a lot and no one gives anything. All anyone cares about is their career, you can't just sit in a garden with friends talking about life, happiness, love, politics, whatever. There is no time for gardens in the United States. There is no time for anything- everyone always has to be doing something.

I can't stand the thought of going back...