my head is awash in a deliberate smattering of songs coming from the tiny mp3 player on my lap. lush colors of fall blur together as my train scoots ever closer to sofia. i head to the big city for a lazy afternoon of reassembling myself, alone and anonymous. i am without a schedule and i revel in the spacious freedom of this friday.
quite unlike the previous year, my mind enjoys the luxury of aimless wander. unstructured time is spent self-replenishing, rather than merely surviving, and often directs my thoughts to a hodgepodge of musings.
the musing du jour is a disconnect i feel between bulgaria and what i characterize as "europe." i'm regularly remiss in reminding myself i do, in fact, live in europe. it's just that... well, bulgaria simply lacks that quintessential je ne sais quoi of my (admittedly) superficial "real" european characerizations. defined narrowly in the context of one "euroadventure '05," a two week rapid fire tour of (mostly) western europe (which was lovely anyhow), the strict confines of my version of europe have yet to extend their reaches to the land of the bulgs.
emanating from that trip are crisp images of jagged swiss alps and fondue-filled villages below them; pristine hillsides and impossibly blue lakes; filthy underground metros in rome and fancy water poured from mesmerizing sapphire glass bottles, haunting facades of blackened stone structures in prague; quaint buildings and colorful villages, "gas" water and gelato every 20 meters; european cars ("tent on wheels") crammed one behind the other on every street; sidewalk, in every parking lot and alley.
comparatively speaking, bulgaria is relatively devoid of such ubiquitously european denotations, almost hopelessly so . a friend who dares to explore bulgaria comments,
"in no way does it feel like europe here," when i probe for her opinion.
"is it the sidewalks? you can be honest," i offer. the sidewalks here deserve their time in the spotlight. perhaps only in bulgaria is one able to plunge one's foot into a well-disguised reservoir of filth water whilst advising a clueless friend to mind "sketchy-looking" concrete sidewalk squares, as they often lead to unexpected surprises.
"no," she continues. "it's not the sidewalks, or the food, or even the claustrophobia of sofia. it's just..." she trails off in thought.
it's just not europe, i tell myself as i silently release colorful expletives at having to march along with a wet foot.
********
i sit patiently as i am whisked off to sofia. i return to pondering my efforts to join bulgaria and europe, seeing them now to be a tactic of repressing my unassailable homesickness. while bulgaria as a whole is decidedly un-european, i conclude, sofia, in all of its quirkiness and pretentious disdain, is my primary connection; it is the most quintessentially european place available under my narrow limitations.
if you need me in the next 9 months, i will be in sofia, vacationing with my replenishing self and drowning in my music until i no longer have to endeavor to find home.
by then, i will simply have arrived there.
2 comments:
I remember remarking on my blog that Bulgaria isn't Europe and then my European friend asking me what I thought Europe was, totally busting me in my throwaway comment. All I could come up with is that EUROPE as a concept seems to involve an embracing of tradition and history and stuff along with definite movement into the future, something like progress. Those two feelings together is Europe. Maybe. Anyway, Bulgaria doesn't really seem to have either, as a whole.
agreed. it's one of the more difficult things to articulate, as it is mostly a sense and nagging feeling that we're just adrift in a place still stuck in time. an excellent point, to be sure, that feeling definite movement into the future here is certainly a luxurious and "quaint" notion. not so in other places. thanks for the comment.
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