Reminiscent of family vacations where my parents would inquire as to my wishes, make suggestions, and list all possible options only to receive no fully articulated response, I took a trip to Sofia, Bulgaria, this weekend. The difference between this trip and those of my childhood is that in this 2010 version I play the part of my parents while my previous role is filled by my nine traveling companions, Americans plus a token German, few of whom have a communicable opinion but instead a travel-induced attitude to rival that of 12yo me.
Despite the realization of this semi-planned visa trip as three days of the blind leading the blind and slow-walking (not quite lame) around a city about which I knew nothing, it turned out to be fortuitously timed.
We were in town for the annual commemoration of the death of Bulgarian hero and revolutionary Vasil Levski. After lurking in the orthodox church narthex and snapping paparazzi shots of a priest gang and unidentified Suits, whose importance warranted a posse of Bulgarian Secret Service equivalents, we left for dinner. Following a Bulgarian pub meal we were intercepted by further remembrance festivities and a kneeling recitation of the national anthem that almost made us late for our performance at the puppet theater (over 200 puppets!).
Our second timely highlight resulted from an attempted visit to the Bulgarian ethnographic/art museum (couldn't tell which it was) that was made better when we failed to gain admittance past the foyer. The museum was closed for a (Bulgarian, I assume) magazine event, and I was left eating croissants, curious almond-flavored cookies, and helping myself to hearty glasses of OJ amongst schmoozing/smoking gallery/magazine patrons in the lobby while my travel companions toured the gift shop in search of souvenir shot glasses.
The Eastern Bloc state solidified it's reputation as a happening place in our international student minds after Wolf, our German, naturlich, persuaded us to taxi to the student part of town for Bulgarian clubbing, his contribution to group planning. Admittedly, we were not a huge hit and our frequent and adamant requests for Beyonce were repeatedly denied, but we loved the experience of Bulgaria as much as Bulgarian college boys love using hair product.
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