Holidays in Bulgaria and Greece
ZAVET – The New Year in Bulgaria started with a bang – literally – when the clock struck midnight on January 1, 2005. A small party of Bulgarians had decided to descend upon my apartment to celebrate the New Year, and out on my balcony two of my friends were lighting large, loud firecrackers. They would light them, throw them and then make those “Wowowowowo” sounds like a stereotypical Native American does in cartoons. Most of the firecrackers exploded away from the apartment, but some exploded right on the balcony, making me jump each time and awaking every goat within a 20-mile radius.
Of course we weren’t the only pyromaniacs. Every apartment building sounded as though it was firing rounds of ammunition. BOOM! CRACK! BOOM! Serious, if you closed your eyes, you would have thought you were in the middle of a firestorm in Baghdad. This lasted for at least an hour. One of my students across the way was even trying to throw his firecrackers onto MY balcony.
The scariest part was when my one Bulgarian friend (who I believe had partaken in some alcoholic beverages) tied a roman candle to the balcony rail, pointing it toward the sky like a rocket. This was fine, except he had the firework pointing the wrong direction. Soon glowing balls of fire were shooting on my balcony and some were going into my living room. They all laughed at the blunder while I worried about my impending lecture about fire safety from the Peace Corps Security Officer.
I guess I should have been ready for this. For the past three weeks kids had been lighting these things off – at school, in the center, outside my windows. This was one of the few reminders of the holiday season here in Bulgaria. Christmas exists, but on a scaled-down version. There are Christmas trees and lights, but they didn’t come up until about two weeks before. This is partly because of Communism and a large Muslim population here. As a result, Christmas (or Koleda in Bulgarian) is just starting to become a major holiday again.
CHRISTMAST REVIVAL
Fifteen years ago, Christmas was frowned upon by the government. Local officials made sure no one had a “Christmas” gathering or party. Religious ceremonies were all but prohibited. Even Santa Claus (Grandpa Christmas for Bulgarians) was deemed too capitalist and became “Grandpa Frost”. FYI, Bulgarians, along with other countries, have a Christmas character called Snazhanka, who is this beautiful young girl who hangs around with Santa. No one is quite sure of her role in Christmas, but she definitely lives at the North Pole, which makes me wonder what Mrs. Santa thinks about Santa flying all over the world with a young woman.
Anyway, kids get presents and celebrate the old traditions again. On Christmas Eve families eat traditional dishes but without meat. It’s only on Christmas Day that they dig in and eat a big, fat pig. And by the way, they eat everything off it – ears, feet, intestines, back fat.
The kids here basically know only one Christmas song: Jingle Bells. And their rendition goes like this: “Jingo Bills Jingo Bills, Jingo all da way. Oh wit fun it tis to ride in mmm mmmm mmm sleigh. Hey!” We tried to sing some others, but they always wanted to go back to Jingle Bells.
Holiday parties are popular here just like the States. Teachers, offices, organizations have banquets. I attended my teacher’s banquet, which turned into a 7-hour eating, drinking and dancing binge. They danced to Bulgarian music, doing the tradional “horo” dance – it’s kind of a like a brisk, extended version of “Ring Around the Rosie” except nobody falls down (unless they’ve drunk too much rakiya). The singer, a giant Bulgarian with a giant beard, also slipped in pop classics like “I Can’t Help Falling In Love”, “Unchained Melody” and “Livin’ La Vida Loca”. But he failed to include one Christmas song.
At school, each class also has a class party. They had these at the discotek or the restaurant. All the kids exchanged gifts and even chipped in to buy their class teacher (like a homeroom teacher, but he or she moves up with them every year) a gift. I attended one of these parties and the kids were relatively under control.
In this region, Turks don’t celebrate Christmas so for most the New Year is the bigger holiday here. Gifts are given on New Year’s and it’s a time when everything is closed and people spend time with their families. At our party we had tons of food. We had special rolls that had the New Year’s fortune baked into each one. According to the small piece of paper placed in foil of my roll, I will make a lot of money. Unless Peace Corps dramatically increases my monthly stipend, this isn’t likely to happen. There was Bulgarian salad of cucumbers and lemons. There was sausage and salami. There was baklava, a favorite of mine, and of course, lots to drink.
For me, the holiday season was nice, but a little hard as well. The weather has been dark and cold. Being away from your family gets to you after awhile, especially when you hear about all the good stuff they will be eating and doing. Plus, Bulgaria just isn’t a pleasant place in the winter.
So I went to Greece for Christmas.
ATHENS
The moment we crossed the Bulgaria/Greece border the sun began to shine and the landscape took on a pleasant appearance that people lived here and they actually enjoyed it. This could have been because of the nicely paved roads, the painted houses or the breathtaking mountains of northern Greece. Or it could have been that we were just so glad to be actually moving after sitting at the border for more than three hours.
My trip began the night before when I took the 2 a.m. bus from Zavet to Sofia. I stood at the bus stop for a half hour in the frigid cold listening to three old Bulgarian women ramble on and on. I arrived in Sofia at 8:30 a.m. then jumped on a bus with my three American friends at 9 a.m. and headed south.
Bulgaria is a wonderful and beautiful country, but after living here for eight months, one tends to forget that roads don't have to have big ruts and holes. And buildings can be nicely painted, even stylish. Bulgaria's financial crisis became more apparent to me after going to Greece. Everything from restaurants to office buildings to roads is nicer and newer there.
We spent only three whole days in Athens, but it was a welcome rest from Bulgaria. Everyone spoke English. There were nice restaurants that were similar to those in America (ie. They serve water and bread for free with your meal). We ate hamburgers and pizza, splurged on ice cream (Gasp! Contrary to Bulgarian belief, it is possible to eat ice cream during the winter without getting sick) and of course, saw the sites. The Acropolis is amazing and the surrounding monuments are great as well. We went on a tour of three islands, which were beautiful.
The funniest moment on the trip came from an earlier mishap. Me and the now four other girls (the sister of a volunteer met us in Athens) went to the Hill of Aeropagus, a famous rocky cliff that sits just below the Acropolis and is a wonder spot to view the city. It also happens to be the place where Paul the Apostle spoke to the Atheniens and converted his first Greek. Anyway, one of the girls lost her hat when the wind blew it off. She thought it was gone for good, but three hours later, we decided to take a look. Maybe we could find it.
Just below the cliff there was a park and some caves. I went to the place where I thought it would have been, but the area was fenced off. I thought it was a lost cause, but then I saw a group of Greeks sitting on this bench. One was facing the other way taking a pee, but the other, yes! The other was wearing a hat. It was same pink, brown and black argyle hat Teresa had been wearing. I called the girls over. The men didn’t speak English, but the girls smiled and pointed to the hat. He finally gave it back. It wasn’t a big deal, but I will never forget the look of that disappointed Greek man who for a brief moment had possessed a beautiful pink argyle hat.