great weekend

This past weekend I went with Svetolube, a history and geography teacher at my school, to his village about an hour to the east of Ruse. **The village, Цар Самуил, is named after the last ruler of the 1st Bulgarian Kingdom (around the end of the tenth century).**

We went out to Svetolube's (Tsetso for short) village to take in all of the sights of the annual village festival. Pretty much every village and town in Bulgaria has one. Honestly, there wasn't much to see.

The village has certainly seen its better times with the festival serving as a microcosm of that trend. Currently, there is only one functioning school in the village. The primary school stands in the center of a huge field. The school is wedged in between the old schoolhouse one one side (destroyed by arsonists according to Tsetso) and what is left of the initial construction of an extension of the school on the other side. The add-on was started in the twilight of the communist years (late 80s) and has simply been left standing. These defunct, half-built structures serve as unofficial memorials to the brilliant state planners of the Communist era. In this field behind the school, a small bazaar was set up where one could buy anything from candy to rugs to tracksuits (kinda like the one you have Will). After making the trek through the path where all of these goods are hawked, you found yourself in a mini-carnival of sorts. It fell a few steps short of par with EuroDisney.

But for all that the village lacked in aesthetic beauty, the people were amazing. Everywhere we went and everyone Tsetso introduced me to was very kind. It was difficult to understand most of them but judging them by their facial expressions and the words and phrases I did understand, they were very happy to meet me and share time with me.

Saturday night, Tsetso's niece and nephew came to visit with a group of their friends. They are from a medium-sized city called Dobrich (Добрич) about an hour to the east of the village. They are about my age and the differences in conversation, interests, and expressions between them and the older Bulgarian population is astounding. We all had a great time Saturday night and enjoyed the delicious food and apricot brandy that Tsetso's mother prepared for us.

Being in a rural Bulgarian village highlights the huge divide between the younger generation and the one which came of age during the mid-twentieth century. Whereas an older Bulgarian (especially someone who grew up in rural Bulgaria) will gladly point out the finer points of the Communist Party and scoff at the corrupt nature of the current political and social scene; younger Bulgarians are [almost unanimously] interested and unbelievably informed with the attractions of 'the West.' (e.g. cars, NBA, higher education, pop music) *Last spring a guy I met while playing streetball told me he thought the Wizards would be a lot better if they played stronger defense. And nearly everyday a student asks me some crazy question about the engineering involved in a 1960s muscle car engine.*

When talking with people from villages, nostalgia directs almost every conversation. When talking with younger Bulgarians from the city, their level of interest in all things western (regardless if their opinions are formed soundly or not) is remarkable.