Plovdiv

After the crazy week that was, it was a treat to go to Plovdiv. Lucian’s boast notwithstanding, Plovdiv was lovely. Truth, Bulgaria is lovely; but Hadji Dimitar is not a proper first impression. I am including the dogs in this entry but still that horse-drawn garbage “truck” has eluded me. When I hear the clip-clop of the buggy, my camera is always in my bag, under books and wrapped around head-phone cords. I have tried to take it from my balcony but it is not cool to take pictures in the early morning from a height.  I’m sure you can imagine all the problems that might come up from such a situation.

On to Plovdiv. I went with Kathleen, Kyril, Bailey (Kathleen’s sister), and Dixie (Bailey’s boyfriend). We took a bus, which took about 2 hours.  There is something to be said for watching a city go by without any concerns.  In a taxi, I am too busy thinking how I am getting screwed. On the trolley, I am trying to look cool and aloof, while still making note of where I am and when I need to get off. But the greyhound-like bus is safe. I’m on it, seated, and allowed to look at all the scenery: wide-eyed, wowed and uncool.

Is it incredibly naive to say we are all the same? The industrial outskirts of any city are the same. The places to fix a flat, buy a toilet, measure wood looked just like some sections of the Bronx. Where I used to teach, the walk home on Webster Avenue looked exactly the same. But I will admit that the “working” overalls that are worn here are great! I’m bringing a pair home. When I move into my first real house (in Baltimore) I am wearing those blue cotton overalls as I clean, paint, and live out the 80s montage I wrote about earlier.

Plovdiv was in the midst of some market fair. People were selling all kinds of stuff. I bought honey. Partly because I do like fresh honey, but also honey was a significant export from the Euxine to Greece; and I am a sucker for tradition.  I bought the honey from a woman who spoke English and let me sample all different kinds. Just as finished with one spoon, she was stuffing another in my mouth.  I must be super starved for positive attention: I found this forceful selling tactic endearing.

We went to an art show. Pavlina, a friend of Kathleen, had a showing of her photographs. These were self-portraits of her aura. I fell in love with a sculpture made of wood called the Charioteer. On the street, I ran into a young Jamaican girl. She was pushing a carriage with a little baby. Actually she approached me. I was busy thinking of buying something else I didn’t need. She said that she had to talk to me because she rarely sees a black person in Bulgaria. She said it was hard to live here and she wanted to get to the States. It can’t be that hard, someone must have been a bit kind to her, she did have a child.  Long story short- she and her Bulgarian husband are trying to get to the States. And I am pretty sure they lied to each other, implying that the one could get to America easier than the other. It was too complicated to understand. I gave her my email address. She said she wanted more info about the States. “Sure,” I said, “but I am very very poor and have no power and only marry for love.” I told her I live in a strange land called Oohioo and was (all-things-being-equal) happy to be in Bulgaria.

The Roman theater in Plovdiv is kind of magnificent. I mean the combination of intact remains and the way the general public could use it as its plaything. There are things in Greece that were just barred and Italy, well no one has and will be told Non toccare! more than I was. But here, I was climbing all over everything. Even the cats were especially touchable. My own cat isn’t this friendly. In fact, Peter has told me that Skala has forgotten all about me and loves the stairs. I too love would love to have an upstairs, but Skala, I am very very poor. 

Can you see the 3 dogs?

Bus terminal-not exciting

Hadji Dimitar's dogs

I like it- It's the Bronx!

Bulgarians too wash their own cars.

The start of the market fair- similar too Manhattan's street fairs

Bailey and Dixie. We are at a Plovdiv restaurant

My God the honey!

A sample Pavlina's photos

The Charioteer

No joke: 4 weddings in Plovdiv. Old road+new cars=mess.

Kind cat, but still prefers stairs.

Plovdiv "City of 7 hills" none paved.

They still hold events here. Those are cushions.

In the back, storage room. I paid 1 Leva and saw everything