So, I've noticed that boys in general tend to have this thing for super powers. It's brought up almost on a daily basis by them and can be tied in to almost any conversation.
Girl: "I'm not looking forward to our train ride, it's gonna take hours to get home."
Boy: "I know, I wish I had the ability to bend space and time and just suddenly appear in our living room."
Girl: "Mm-hmm."
Girl: "Would it kill you to remember to put the toilet seat down? Oh, and no football tonight, Grey's Anatomy's on."
Boy: "Sometimes I wish I could shoot laser beams out of my eyeballs."
Girl: "I'm hungry."
Boy: "If you could have any super power, what would it be?
Girl: "Maybe I'll get a bagel."
Boy: "Like, if you could choose between flying and super strength, which would you choose?"
Girl: "I don't know, flying I guess."
Boy: "Heh, typical."
What's with that? Why the obsession? I get the impression many men believe that super powers actually exist and there are people out there hiding their ability to run at the speed of light or manipulate the weather or leap a tall building in a single bound.
Women, from my experience, don't think about this as often. When asked, "if you could have any super power, what would it be?" I would probably answer, "I'd like to be able to eat a dozen donuts and a tub of ice cream without gaining weight."
-Age
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Do Bulgarian Teachers Wear High Heels?
I got a package today from my mom. It was a bit bulky and oddly shaped, stretching at the cardboard seams and, upon examining this box in the small post office in my Bulgarian village, I was quite intrigued as to what my mother had sent me. I’d given her a list of things I wanted but my mom doesn’t always listen to me and it was very possible that this package either contained everything I asked for or a magic set and a signed poster of Tom Selleck.
Here’s what I got:
- · A book based off of Pride and Prejudice
- · Numerous office supplies (awesome!)
- · 5 dresses (one of which is actually a Halloween costume – Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom, naturally)
- · A bracelet with a small owl charm cuz owl’s are my favorite
- · And a ridiculous amount of tampons, which is what gave the box it’s odd shape
And let me tell you, it was like Christmas! I got, pretty much, what I'd asked for and I’ve never been so happy to receive post-it notes in my life! But that kinda stuff is so rare here and when I do find it, it’s just so expensive that I cannot justify the purchase.
So, of course, I immediately tried on all the dresses, remembered what it felt like to be girly and thought, “I don’t have shoes for these!” How in the world I could be regretting having not brought my black, peep-toe, platform heels as a Peace Corps volunteer is one of those great dichotomies that exists only in PC Bulgaria. While in January, I was expecting to be sent to a place where I could potentially live in a mud hut and bathe in the river, I was not expecting to have to learn the lesson of practicality as all the luxuries of the world are at my fingertips but not actually close enough for me to grasp.
The fact that there are clubs and fancy restaurants and places to buy beautiful clothes I think actually makes living in Bulgaria more difficult than a mud hut. Because I can’t have those things. I want those things. I see a washing machine in a shop window for 300 leva and I think, “I want that right now!” I see a pretty pair of shoes or a dining set that sparkles, taunting me with its shininess, and then see the reflection of the covetous look on my face before turning away.
Basically, I’m having trouble being frugal here. I was told by the volunteer who lives near me, a very hard-working girl who’s been here for over a year, that these first few months will be difficult, “you’ll wonder how in the world you’re going to survive on so little but, eventually, you’ll get used to this life, spend less and less, and then begin to save money without even meaning to.” I certainly hope so. Cuz right now I’m fighting the urge to go buy a pair of black heels. To match a dress I don’t know when I’m going to wear.
It’s not to say that I was rolling in the dough when I lived in California. Quite the opposite, actually. I worked between 50 and 60 hours a week most of the time and still could barely manage to pay my rent. I never knew what sort of paycheck I’d be receiving as my work hours were always changing and maintaining two, sometimes even three, jobs was often a nightmare. I’d save up for weeks to buy something like a black pair of heels. But I bought them. I genuinely felt I needed them. I know I don’t need those things here but it’s gonna take some serious will-power not to start a “shoe’s for Adrienne” fund instead of devoting my time to fundraise for the many needs of this community. I’ll do what I should, and gladly. I’m just saying it’s not gonna be easy. Or, it would be easy, if I were doing it in a pair of black, peep-toe, platform heels.
-Age
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Thanks, Billy!
Enough silly rambling from my head. I just received the Peace Corps monthly newsletter and there was an article, written by a currently serving volunteer here in Bulgaria, that really struck me as something pretty wonderful. I thought I'd share it here with you:
Two years. Not a lot to show. Completely satisfied.
I joined the Peace Corps with visions of grandeur. Seriously. They told all of us that there would be a lot of adjustments to be made, that we would need to be flexible and patient and that we probably would not change the world with one brilliant stroke. I thought I was the exception. I was going to move into my small community and capture people’s hearts and change their minds and maybe learn a thing or two about them in the process. I couldn’t have been more ignorant or, since we are talking about international development here, further off in my concept of what it means to be a grassroots development worker.
It has been two years since I started my Peace Corps service and I have learned a thing or two. I would like to take a minute to simply list some of the more important ones (in my humble opinion):
Development is hard. It is easy to sit in a classroom and toss around theories about solving the world’s problems but it is exponentially harder to actually get dirt under your fingernails. Nobody told me that. There is no manual or flip chart (sorry Peace Corps) that makes it any easier. Every last one of us is shooting from the hip. Sometimes it works and is brilliant and sometimes it fails miserably. But you should be proud of yourself for stepping in the ring because you have already done more than the majority of humanity ever will.
Peace Corps volunteers are not development workers. We are. But we are not. We do development work. But it is a third of our overall mission. Development agencies like USAID are completely different animals and it is not right or fair to compare what we do to agencies throwing millions of dollars at problems. We live next to people. Not across from them. Not above them. Next to them. We do not have stockpiles of resources but rely on our unparalleled resourcefulness to accomplish amazing things. We are incredibly resilient. And we are connected at a very real and personal level to the issues we are trying to address. This is what sets us apart, and what, I believe, makes Peace Corps dollar for dollar one of the most effective aid agencies around. What we do is human development and it is much harder to quantify and measure but, in the long run, much, much more important.
You can build a thousand schools and a hundred hospitals and all that is good and right but if you do not change people’s minds and educate them then it is highly probable that your grand accomplishments might not be around too long. Sustainability is both extremely important and extremely difficult to achieve but it is well worth the due diligence.
Because I have your ear: Drop books, not bombs. Educate and you will sow peace and prosperity, tolerance and love. We are never going to destroy the dark ideas in the world with M16s and laser-guided bombs. We will only make them ever darker and stronger.
I came here thinking that the Peace Corps was about me changing the world. I now know that this whole experience was much more about the world changing me. We, as Peace Corps Volunteers, are far more
aware, engaged, active, compassionate, etc, etc, etc… than we were before we came here and that is going to follow us for the rest of our lives. It is both our blessing and our curse.
Life is all about the little things. It is about human relationships and conversations and the small things that fill our daily lives. I wanted to change the world (I still want to), but I have learned to be okay with the idea that just changing one person’s mind is a monumental accomplishment worthy of praise and celebration. We never know what the seeds we now plant will grow into.
I am a Peace Corps Volunteer here in Bulgaria coming up on the end of my service. I have been here two years. I do not have an illustrious list of grand accomplishments that I can rattle off to you. I have not built bridges or hospitals or schools or empires. If I am completely honest, which for proprieties sake I probably
should not be, then I must admit to you that I do not have much to show from my time here.
But there are all of these things that you, and for that matter I, cannot see.
Thoughts
Ideas
Questions Raised
Minds Changed
The human relationships that we cultivate are immeasurable in their importance. The ideas that we share are infinite in their possibilities to bring about change. The small number of people that we directly influence are, without a doubt, forever changed. Change is certainly slow and often immeasurable. The things we do now often need years to grow into full-formed ideas and philosophies supported by actions and lifestyles. And still some things do not stick. Some people do not change. Some people never will. But even if they do not we most certainly have.
So yes it has been two years. And yes I do not have anything particularly spectacular to show you. And yes I am completely satisfied.
I am the first volunteer in my community and when I was being interviewed by one of the PC staff, Jason, on whether or not I felt ready to accept this task and become a full-fledged volunteer, he told me that being the first was going to be a challenge. He told me that there will be other volunteers doing amazing things in their communities and it may take a toll on my motivation because I won't be making the same strides. He didn't say I wouldn't makes strides of my own but that they would be less measurable. My job is to lay the foundation here. Change hearts and minds so that in the future they will be more open, willing, and able to implement some community-changing projects and ideas, with or without the help of another volunteer. This article of Billy's really hit home and I realize that I need to change my focus in the sense that I need to expand my focus. Do all I can while at the same time remaining open to any small accomplishments as well as learning from my many mistakes and so called "failures." So, let's do this!
-Age
International Development
By Billy Knox, B24 COD
I joined the Peace Corps with visions of grandeur. Seriously. They told all of us that there would be a lot of adjustments to be made, that we would need to be flexible and patient and that we probably would not change the world with one brilliant stroke. I thought I was the exception. I was going to move into my small community and capture people’s hearts and change their minds and maybe learn a thing or two about them in the process. I couldn’t have been more ignorant or, since we are talking about international development here, further off in my concept of what it means to be a grassroots development worker.
It has been two years since I started my Peace Corps service and I have learned a thing or two. I would like to take a minute to simply list some of the more important ones (in my humble opinion):
Development is hard. It is easy to sit in a classroom and toss around theories about solving the world’s problems but it is exponentially harder to actually get dirt under your fingernails. Nobody told me that. There is no manual or flip chart (sorry Peace Corps) that makes it any easier. Every last one of us is shooting from the hip. Sometimes it works and is brilliant and sometimes it fails miserably. But you should be proud of yourself for stepping in the ring because you have already done more than the majority of humanity ever will.
Peace Corps volunteers are not development workers. We are. But we are not. We do development work. But it is a third of our overall mission. Development agencies like USAID are completely different animals and it is not right or fair to compare what we do to agencies throwing millions of dollars at problems. We live next to people. Not across from them. Not above them. Next to them. We do not have stockpiles of resources but rely on our unparalleled resourcefulness to accomplish amazing things. We are incredibly resilient. And we are connected at a very real and personal level to the issues we are trying to address. This is what sets us apart, and what, I believe, makes Peace Corps dollar for dollar one of the most effective aid agencies around. What we do is human development and it is much harder to quantify and measure but, in the long run, much, much more important.
You can build a thousand schools and a hundred hospitals and all that is good and right but if you do not change people’s minds and educate them then it is highly probable that your grand accomplishments might not be around too long. Sustainability is both extremely important and extremely difficult to achieve but it is well worth the due diligence.
Because I have your ear: Drop books, not bombs. Educate and you will sow peace and prosperity, tolerance and love. We are never going to destroy the dark ideas in the world with M16s and laser-guided bombs. We will only make them ever darker and stronger.
I came here thinking that the Peace Corps was about me changing the world. I now know that this whole experience was much more about the world changing me. We, as Peace Corps Volunteers, are far more
aware, engaged, active, compassionate, etc, etc, etc… than we were before we came here and that is going to follow us for the rest of our lives. It is both our blessing and our curse.
Life is all about the little things. It is about human relationships and conversations and the small things that fill our daily lives. I wanted to change the world (I still want to), but I have learned to be okay with the idea that just changing one person’s mind is a monumental accomplishment worthy of praise and celebration. We never know what the seeds we now plant will grow into.
I am a Peace Corps Volunteer here in Bulgaria coming up on the end of my service. I have been here two years. I do not have an illustrious list of grand accomplishments that I can rattle off to you. I have not built bridges or hospitals or schools or empires. If I am completely honest, which for proprieties sake I probably
should not be, then I must admit to you that I do not have much to show from my time here.
But there are all of these things that you, and for that matter I, cannot see.
Thoughts
Ideas
Questions Raised
Minds Changed
The human relationships that we cultivate are immeasurable in their importance. The ideas that we share are infinite in their possibilities to bring about change. The small number of people that we directly influence are, without a doubt, forever changed. Change is certainly slow and often immeasurable. The things we do now often need years to grow into full-formed ideas and philosophies supported by actions and lifestyles. And still some things do not stick. Some people do not change. Some people never will. But even if they do not we most certainly have.
So yes it has been two years. And yes I do not have anything particularly spectacular to show you. And yes I am completely satisfied.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I am the first volunteer in my community and when I was being interviewed by one of the PC staff, Jason, on whether or not I felt ready to accept this task and become a full-fledged volunteer, he told me that being the first was going to be a challenge. He told me that there will be other volunteers doing amazing things in their communities and it may take a toll on my motivation because I won't be making the same strides. He didn't say I wouldn't makes strides of my own but that they would be less measurable. My job is to lay the foundation here. Change hearts and minds so that in the future they will be more open, willing, and able to implement some community-changing projects and ideas, with or without the help of another volunteer. This article of Billy's really hit home and I realize that I need to change my focus in the sense that I need to expand my focus. Do all I can while at the same time remaining open to any small accomplishments as well as learning from my many mistakes and so called "failures." So, let's do this!
-Age
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Commitment. What a Dirty Word.
I have commitment issues. Not necessarily committing myself to a man, though I don’t really do that, um, ever, but more along the lines of any commitment of any kind at all. I hesitate to sign that form before joining a gym. When asked to do anything that involves the phrase “long term” I always begin my response with, “ummmmm….,” I grimace at the thought of accruing any kind of debt whatsoever as that is a binding commitment to pay a monthly bill. I can’t get out of it, I can’t run away if I don’t feel like paying anymore. Bills, documents, obligatory contracts of any kind give me that icky feeling that usually accompanies finding a big-ass bug in your bed or walking in on someone while they’re going to the bathroom. I. Do. Not. Like. It.
But this fear, this repulsion towards commitment has taken a toll on my life. My hesitancy to take out student loans kept me from having the college experience my socially-awkward 20-year-old self desperately needed. I had at least 3 jobs and little to no social life in college. I should have been sowing my wild oats. I still have my oats, never got to sow ‘em. What am I gonna do with them now, huh? There old and no one likes old oats. No one.
It’s also kept me from signing up for a credit card and buying cool stuff. I’m not saying I want to be one of those people that’s buried in debt and knows deep down in the pit of their stomachs that they will always live paycheck to paycheck, barely making it in this dog-eat-dog world. No. But some debt. I nice computer. A fun vacation. A couple thousand dollars of credit card debt with a reasonable interest rate. Not that big of a deal, right? Wrong. The idea sickens me. I only used my Macy’s card when it meant I got a discount and then would go pay it online before the day was over. The one time I could only afford to pay the minimum balance, well, let’s just say that was a rough month for me.
My trouble with commitment when it comes to men is not only a whole other post but probably a whole other blog. But that blog already exists. A thousand times over. There are bloggers all over the internet documenting their relationship struggles, some much more articulately than others so I won’t burden you here with my reasons for being a love pariah. You’re welcome.
Some of you may be thinking, “Hey, wait a minute, Adrienne, you’ve just joined the Peace Corps and committed two years of your life to living and working in a foreign country. That doesn’t make you seem like much of a commitment-phobe now does it?”
I would say in response, “I don’t like your tone, mister. Not one bit.”
But I would also answer that I don’t consider this a commitment and because my mind does not describe it with that word the whole Peace Corps thing just doesn’t count. I know I can leave whenever I want. I also know I don’t want to leave. There is no awkward break-up potentially looming, no “This is your third notice, if you do not pay by (insert quickly approaching date here) we will send you to collections and your life will be over, you’ll probably go to prison” notice sticking out of the mailbox, and no feelings of failure, that this life turned out to be too much for me, more than I could handle.
I don’t want to feel buried or that life just happened to me and the choices never really felt like my own. But at the same time, I know that in order to really experience life I do have to commit myself to things. I missed out on a wonderful college experience because I was afraid. Of what? Who knows. But I know I missed out and I know it’s because of this inability to say, “OK. Yes. Let’s do it.” So, I plan to work on that while I’m here. Say yes a little more and dive right in. Oh, and I also plan to do it sober which will be something new. Saying yes is always so easy when you’ve had one too many. Totally sober yes-saying, that’s what’s in my future. I pray constantly for God to reveal to me his plan for my life but I think this is it, where I am now, what I’m doing now. When He opens doors it’s up to me to walk through them. That’s the whole “free will” thing He gave us cuz He loves us. It’s kinda nice and kinda terrible all at the same time. I feel a little bad for referencing my tendency towards drunken yes-saying in the same paragraph that I own up to being a God-fearing person but I think my new commitment makes up for it. Nah, probably not but God’s the Father of forgiveness so…lucky me!
Wow. What a tangent that was. I’m absolutely sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’m sure commitment is a problem for just about everyone. Whether they commit too quickly or not at all. That’s why there are so many phrases connected with the word. So while I work on my (insert commonly used commitment phrase here), I’ll keep in mind that I’m not the only one.
Wait, can I commit to this? Ah, crap.
-Age
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Pregnant Donkey's and Writing Contests
My mom sent me an email with a link to a writing contest entitled, "I never thought I'd..." She thought I might enjoy giving a crack at winning her a trip to New York. She's so sweet. I immediately became interested and drafted up several version of what I hoped would meld into one award-winning essay. We shall see. Here it is, please feel free to critique, comment, and suggest. I am more than open to your ideas and opinions. Wish me luck!
"Turn Right at the Pregnant Donkey" by Adrienne Hadaway
"Turn Right at the Pregnant Donkey" by Adrienne Hadaway
“Turn right at the pregnant donkey.” That’s what I tell people when they ask for directions to my home. Turns out the donkey was never actually pregnant, just fat. I’m relieved never to have asked this donkey, “boy or girl?” That would have been awkward. It may seem strange to some to give directions in this way but for me, here in Bulgaria, it’s been quite useful. Though, I suppose, if that donkey were to decide that the grass was actually greener on the other side, not to mention tastier, I may never have another visitor.
I never thought I would join the Peace Corps. That’s where I am currently, in a small village in Bulgaria teaching English, integrating into a new culture, and studying a language so difficult that I often think to myself, “What was I thinking? I can’t do this!” However, those moments fade when I look into the faces of the beautiful children living here, when I see the old women walking through the village streets as if from another era, when a 50 kilometer bus ride can transition one from a tiny town full of red tile-roofed cottages scattered among the hills to a bustling capital city of 7 million. I always knew I wanted to experience adventure. I always knew I wanted to relate to a new culture. I always knew I wanted to challenge my assumptions and general way of thinking. But I never thought I would join the Peace Corps.
Upon leaving my beautiful state of California for this daunting adventure many people asked, “Why are you going?” or “The Peace Corps? What’s that? Is that like the army?” Apparently the word “peace” was not descriptive enough. Though, to be honest, while I did have a basic idea of what joining this organization entailed, I had always imagined it consisted of a group of individuals completely dedicated to a very specific cause. I had no idea that it’s actual mission was so simple, so broad, so all-encompassing: spreading peace and friendship. That’s it. Though to say “that’s it” is to imply that it lacks importance or influence which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Spreader of peace and friendship” is much too long for a business card though still a title not to be dismissed as outdated, cheesy, or trite. People have always pursued peace. The idealistic will never give up on peace and even the realistic know that, though total harmony may not actually be achievable, the amount we strive to achieve it is proportional to the happiness of everyone. And friendship is as old as time, the cornerstone to any relationship worth having. Friendship transcends peace and takes it from a passive tranquility to an active desire to make others happy. To be a “spreader” of these two things is an important task that can be performed in any number of ways, down a multitude of avenues, and from a variety of personalities, perspectives, and passions.
My passion happens to be education. I value knowledge and wisdom, as many people do, and desire to motivate and encourage others to feel the same. To value something is to consider it of such significance that it plays an important role in ones’ life and education is truly something to value, something of such worth that it should play an important role in the lives of all. This will be my course, my method of spreading peace and friendship here in Bulgaria, accomplishing the goals I have set for myself to encourage passion for knowledge as well as to increase my own.
Though in my wish to encourage learning and it’s pursuit, I did not initially think to myself, “Hey, now, the Peace Corps seems like the way to go.” No, I went to school, I got my degree, I received my credential and I tried, in vain, to acquire a job teaching elementary age children in California. The timing was bad, the economy worse and I found myself, like so many others, in a rut. I don’t like ruts. The word itself is unattractive and my desire to claw myself out of this rut was all-consuming. I’ve never worked so hard in my life to achieve so little. Though, maybe I gained more than I thought, because it lead me to the conclusion that all this effort I was putting into myself was a bit selfish. I had focused on me for so long that I forgot the importance of focusing on others, that by helping others you, in turn, often help yourself. I decided to dedicate my time, my knowledge, my skills, my life to helping others though secretly knowing I would receive a multitude of blessings in return which makes the seemingly selfless task of joining the Peace Corps not quite as shiny and pure as one would think but definitely more genuine.
So here I am, a hippie of sorts, a pursuer of knowledge and peace and friendship. A dedicated volunteer with arms and a heart that open up a little more each day. I always knew I wanted more from this life but I never thought I’d join the Peace Corps. But I’m so glad I did and cannot wait to see what wonderful things come as a result of this unexpected yet pivotal choice.
-Age
-Age
Monday, August 2, 2010
My First Bulgarian Kiss
Alright. This past weekend, despite the ridiculous amounts of planning I needed to get done for this week’s Summer School and Adults English Courses, I was forced (not really) to spend the day with a lovely Bulgarian family and travel to 3 different monasteries in Northern Bulgaria.
We started out at 6:30 in the morning. This particular time of day and I normally do not get along but I managed to be ready on time with what I hope was a pleasant look on my face when they pulled up in their little green car. These particular churches were about a 2-3 hour drive away so we were gone the majority of the day and spent most of that time in the car. It was worth it, however, as the monasteries were beautiful, interesting, and unique.
I went with my friend, Marietta, and her family and at each church they seemed to pay particular attention to her: wrapping her in special fabric, having the head priest pray over her, lighting candles in her honor. At one point I asked Marietta, “Why are we visiting these churches today? Is it because you’re getting married soon.”
She told me that no, it was because she was sick. She has, what I’ve gathered, to be some kind of thyroid disorder and it flared up that weekend, preventing them from taking their long-awaited vacation to the Black Sea. They went to these monasteries to pray for healing. When I found this out, I made sure to light a candle and say a pray for my new friend.
The first monastery was very large and extremely beautiful. Inside, a church service was just ending and a group of priests and nuns were half-singing, half-chanting in a way that was really entrancing. The echo of their voices as they flowed in and out of one another’s gave an eerie yet powerful mood to the darkened church and the women in the front row, swaying with ardent prayers made me feel as though I’d stepped into another century. It was fascinating.
We then stood in line to take communion. I noticed that everyone before me took the bread before kissing the priest's hand and stepping off to the side to eat. I did the same, feeling very strange at having kissed the hand of a stranger but I also felt blessed to be able to participate in something so special and unfamiliar.
Most people in Bulgaria are Orthodox Christians though many of them do not go to church excepting major religious holidays. My small village has a regular church service every Sunday which seems quite rare though most of the habitual members are elderly women. When a priest at one of the monasteries asked me what religion I identified with Marietta’s mother, Marianna, quickly answered that I was an Orthodox Christian. I told him that, no, I was not Orthodox though I was a Christian. Marietta’s mother told me that there is only Orthodox and Catholicism so I must be Orthodox if I am not Catholic. The priest explained to her that there are actually many Christian denominations and then asked me again, which I claim to be. I told him I was Non-Denominational. He looked confused. I said that I had no denomination, that I didn’t identify with any of the one’s he listed. He had not heard of this before but seemed to accept it with little concern for my soul.
I may visit the church in my village next Sunday. Though I’m sure I won’t understand a word that’s being said, it’ll be nice to be a part of a fellowship again. Not to mention, making friends with baba’s is always a good idea.
-Age
We started out at 6:30 in the morning. This particular time of day and I normally do not get along but I managed to be ready on time with what I hope was a pleasant look on my face when they pulled up in their little green car. These particular churches were about a 2-3 hour drive away so we were gone the majority of the day and spent most of that time in the car. It was worth it, however, as the monasteries were beautiful, interesting, and unique.
I went with my friend, Marietta, and her family and at each church they seemed to pay particular attention to her: wrapping her in special fabric, having the head priest pray over her, lighting candles in her honor. At one point I asked Marietta, “Why are we visiting these churches today? Is it because you’re getting married soon.”
She told me that no, it was because she was sick. She has, what I’ve gathered, to be some kind of thyroid disorder and it flared up that weekend, preventing them from taking their long-awaited vacation to the Black Sea. They went to these monasteries to pray for healing. When I found this out, I made sure to light a candle and say a pray for my new friend.
The first monastery was very large and extremely beautiful. Inside, a church service was just ending and a group of priests and nuns were half-singing, half-chanting in a way that was really entrancing. The echo of their voices as they flowed in and out of one another’s gave an eerie yet powerful mood to the darkened church and the women in the front row, swaying with ardent prayers made me feel as though I’d stepped into another century. It was fascinating.
We then stood in line to take communion. I noticed that everyone before me took the bread before kissing the priest's hand and stepping off to the side to eat. I did the same, feeling very strange at having kissed the hand of a stranger but I also felt blessed to be able to participate in something so special and unfamiliar.
Most people in Bulgaria are Orthodox Christians though many of them do not go to church excepting major religious holidays. My small village has a regular church service every Sunday which seems quite rare though most of the habitual members are elderly women. When a priest at one of the monasteries asked me what religion I identified with Marietta’s mother, Marianna, quickly answered that I was an Orthodox Christian. I told him that, no, I was not Orthodox though I was a Christian. Marietta’s mother told me that there is only Orthodox and Catholicism so I must be Orthodox if I am not Catholic. The priest explained to her that there are actually many Christian denominations and then asked me again, which I claim to be. I told him I was Non-Denominational. He looked confused. I said that I had no denomination, that I didn’t identify with any of the one’s he listed. He had not heard of this before but seemed to accept it with little concern for my soul.
I may visit the church in my village next Sunday. Though I’m sure I won’t understand a word that’s being said, it’ll be nice to be a part of a fellowship again. Not to mention, making friends with baba’s is always a good idea.
These are pictures from the first monastery and it was by far the most beautiful and impressive
Marietta and I
Some handcarved souvenirs and the artist at work in the background
I didn't confess my sins nor did I realize that it was a practice among any religions other than Catholicism
These are the pews
You can purchase candles for 20 stotinki, 50 stotinki, or 1 lev.
This is a wall to honor and remember the dead. Candles are put in the ground when they represent prayers for family and friends that have passed away. Also gifts are left such as flowers, food, and even...
Their favorite beverage
This was the second monastery
We took a picture with the very friendly priest who I confused with my lack of denomation
This was the third monastery, tucked high up into the mountains
At some point, when I was buying a candle, I dropped a lev on the ground and it rolled all the way to the front of this carving. Marietta told me that it meant I should leave the lev in front of this carving, you know, if I wanted. How could I refuse? So that's my lev on the top.
-Age
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