Bulgaria Day Three ((A Bulgarian Wedding))

This would be my first actual day spent in the country that I was supposed to be in. Emily and I were spending our day on an SAS trip to a Bulgarian village. It took about 1.5 hours to get there and when I stepped off the bus, my eyes bugged out. We were in the middle of nowhere, a country-side so desolate that I was surprised to know that even 180 people inhabited the village of Dybovik. I could look in all four directions and only see cornfields and wheat fields for miles and miles. Each road led to a field of some sort.

We had the Mayor of the village tour us around a bit, taking us to the local theater/library. The library smelled like an old used bookstore… it was amazing. I ran my fingers along the spines and dust actually collected on my hands. The books all looked ancient, unread, and it made me feel sad. I saw a Mark Twain autobiography and The Shining, both translated into Bulgarian, both sporting dusty covers. I briefly wondered what the people of the village did in their spare time, if not read. There was nothing around for miles and miles.

We then visited the church, which was some kind of Orthodoxy. The Priest greeted us at the door and we were welcomed by this tiny lady, Gena, who was at least 7o. She resembled a small nun. Her face was so sweet and I made sure to have my picture taken with her. We each were handed two candles to light, one for life and one for death. I lit my life candle and stuck it on the stand, and then lit my death candle and stuck it in a pile of sand. After we all participated in this ancient tradition, we made our way to the Mayor’s office.

At one time, Dybovik had over a thousand inhabitants, but then people started to move away and just never came back. Now most of the villagers are over the age of 65, and have lived in the village all of their lives. The Mayor, Tanya, explained that there was no school in the village, and that any children they might have must travel to the nearest schoolhouse which happens to be 25 miles away. I found this distressing. Many children just don’t go to school because of the distance and time it takes to travel so far every day on such little amounts of income. She told us that this town used to thrive, but now they just kept marking villagers off mostly because of death. Their village was not doing well.

We walked to Tanya’s house for the lunch that was being prepared for us by the women of the village. While walking, I made sure to take a long look around me. These houses were not shacks, but they were much, much smaller than the average American one-story. Gardens full of vegetables and flowers and fruit trees crowded yards and competed for growing space. This was their life; growing crops was this village’s main source, and probably only source of income. It was incredibly sobering.
Then we rounded the corner and were greeted by at least ten smiling old lady faces. An elderly man was blowing into what looked like a bagpipe, and the women were all wearing traditional Bulgarian dress. It was stunning. I waited my turn and ripped off my piece of bread from the homemade bread bowl, and dipped it in seasoning. Then I drank from the same cup that everyone was given to drink from, a bitter homemade wine that I downed to be polite. I walked to the next lady who gave me a hug and placed a crown of popcorn on my head. We were all adorned with crowns of popcorn to keep the evil spirits away. It was customary.

We moved in a herd to the “guest room”, an outdoor lounge area filled with picnic tables and garlic cloves strung from the railings and ceilings, also to keep the spirits away. Food was sitting on our tables, and we delved in while the ladies sang and danced for us. It was amazing. The food that was on our table, however, was only appetizers.

Appetizer Menu:
Stuffed Vine leaves (rice, carrots, onion, sunflower oil, dill, celery, parsley, and served with a yoghurt sauce)
Tarator (Cold soup of yoghurt, cucumbers, garlic, dill, and sunflower oil)
Fried Zucchini with yoghurt sauce, garlic, and dill.
Fried donut-like pastries
Potato cakes with egg and cheese

Then we were served lunch:
Traditional Shopska salad (tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, sweet peppers, feta cheese)
Bulgur (Rice) with chicken (paprika, sunflower oil, parsley, mint)
Rice a la Doubroudja (rice, zucchini, carrots, pepper, okra, and green beans)

Drinks? Homemade red wine and brandy. I tried the Brandy (the guy pumped it right out of the barrel into my glass) because I’d never tasted brandy before… and my eyes watered and my tongue burned and I choked and sputtered gracefully. I don’t think I’ll ever drink brandy, ever again.
We also had homemade plum juice, which tasted exactly like the prune juice I had to drink as a kid. I was not a fan.

Dessert:
Homemade Baklava and homegrown watermelon. They were both so refreshing.

We got a tour of the garden area, which was huge. Billy and I ate our way through the garden: Apples, grapes, watermelon, peppers, eggplant, carrots, peaches, and unidentifiable berries. We are pretty much guaranteed travelers’ diarrhea in a few days. There was also a wooden swing hanging from a tree by the side of the house, which Emily and I had a field day taking turns on.

We all gathered back at the table for the traditional “marriage” ceremony. The women of the village wanted two volunteers to dress up in traditional Bulgarian marriage garb so they could show us what a wedding ceremony looked like. Billy volunteered, and he told me to volunteer with him, but before I got the courage to raise my hand, another girl beat me to it.

They dressed up and the women danced around and then everyone started dancing and shouting. It was the best time, especially on a super full stomach. I took only a million pictures, and then we had to say our goodbyes.

Everyone joined hands and literally danced down the road in this long snake-like line to the bus. Other villagers who witnessed our rowdiness cheered us on, and I think I laughed so hard, trying to kick my feet and move forward at the same time. It was hilarious.

I gave each woman a hug, and we kissed cheeks, saying goodbye probably forever. It’s weird how people can communicate without ever speaking the same language. They showed us an authentic Bulgarian village, and accepted us into their homes by cooking and dancing and singing with us, and not one of them spoke English. I find that to be miraculous, amazing, truly an experience I will never in my life forget.

I got on the bus and had to hold back my tears. The Mayor was crying and blowing us kisses. The women were waving their hands, and walking slowly back to their own homes. These people have probably never seen an American before us. They probably don’t get out of the village much, and certainly don’t do the “tourist” thing. This was a first for them as much as it was for us.
This whole experience made me understand the Bulgarian way of life more than anything else possibly could have, and from this experience, I probably feel more connected to Bulgaria than any other country I’ve visited, aside from Austria. These women cultured me, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

A.