Reminiscences

The other day, I realized that I have only four more months left in Bolivia. Time has flown by. It got me thinking about what I have gained from being here - a place that was unknown to me seven months ago. Some things were obvious: it has helped me improve my Spanish; it has helped me learn more about the inner functionings of an organization that provides both microfinance products and health services and education; it has allowed me to explore places that I had never thought I would visit. 
Other things were less tangible. For example, it is almost impossible for me to imagine going back to the "developed" world. The place where everything functions, where driving infractions are taken seriously and punished, where time is respected, where such a thing as "customer service" exists. It seems like I lived in that world in another lifetime. I have gotten so used to riding on often crowded minibuses to work, that I can't imagine getting on a subway where, god forbid, you make eye contact with someone. That is just one example - the concept of personal space is very different here. 
While coming down from El Alto a couple of days ago, I saw La Paz sprawled out before me, lights twinkling all the way in the distance. It is one of the views I enjoy and will miss the most. I thought about all the frustrations I felt at the beginning and how I don't feel them as much anymore, although nothing around me has changed. I guess I have. I realized that you can only feel frustrated if you come with preconceived notions of what a place and its people should be like, of what is the "right" way to do things. Once you overcome that, it is much harder for the differences and so-called quirks to get to you. This should have been clear to me. After all, I have lived in foreign countries before. I guess deep inside I knew that but I had never voiced that thought coherently before. What is infuriating at first, can become endearing over time.
I am not certain of the point when I started feeling less like a tourist and more like a someone who actually lives here. Perhaps it came at the time when I started relating more to my colleagues, or the time when merchants would quote me the local and not "tourist" price, or the time while talking with our organization's clients (women of low socioeconomic and education levels) they asked me when I would come back to talk to them again. Whenever it happened, one thing is clear. It is harder to leave behind a place once you cross that line. Once you have let the local people and culture get to you.

An End and a Beginning

I can't believe it has been more than two months since my last post. I guess I haven't been very inspired lately (mostly my own fault). But since I do post important milestones, I thought I should at least make note of this one. I finished my Master's! The graduation ceremony was last Monday, June 1. Two school years have certainly flown by. From them, of course, I take many memories - both happy and sad. It is a bittersweet time. Strangely enough, this graduation didn't feel as significant as my college one. Perhaps because it involved only two years of studies or perhaps because this is the second time round, so to speak. In any case, it feels different. So, what now? Well, first a couple of months off, during which I can hopefully spend some time in Bulgaria. And then a new adventure begins. This time in La Paz, Bolivia. At the end of August, I start work for Pro Mujer (a microfinance organization that works in several countries in Latin America) as part of a fellowship program for a year. I can't wait to experience a new place again, gain inspiration, and recount the stories here. The blog won't be this quiet for too much longer :) Stay tuned.

Coming to Terms

On 28 February, I received the phone call that all of us - especially those who live far away from their families - dread receiving. We hope that the day we receive such a phone call will never come, but deep down inside, we know all too well that it ultimately will. It was my father on the phone. I could tell right away from the tone in his voice that this was not the usual "wanted to see how you are doing" phone call. Something had happened. Something bad. The seconds between the first hello and his next words felt like an eternity. So many questions raced through my mind: What had happened? Was someone hurt? Am I just imagining the difference in the tone of voice? Is this the dreaded phone call? Finally, he spoke, and as he did, I felt something shatter within me. It was my grandmother. She had been crossing the street and got hit by a truck. She was gone. My first reaction, for a split second, was disbelief. What?!?! That's not possible. That couldn't have happened; not to her. But it had happened. There it was. I had seen her two months back and now I will see her no more. Then the tears came. Tears of sadness (I hope she didn't suffer), tears of anger (at the driver - how could he have not seen her? what was he doing?), tears of worry (how is my grandfather taking this? what about my mother?), tears of nostalgia (for what was but never again will be). So many emotions that I almost felt like I wouldn't have enough tears for all of them.

What happened after that is a bit of haze. I talked to everyone in my family. Actually, "talked" is exaggerated. It was more like crying together on the phone. I had never experienced my mother so distraught, disconsolate, almost broken. Never before had I seen or heard my father cry. My sister - I think she cried herself to sleep that day. There was nothing to say. It felt fake and wrong to try and offer words of consolation, when inside I felt exactly the same way they did. At the same time, the human instinct, makes you want to try and somehow protect those around you from the pain, at least as much as you can. There it was, 28 February 2009.

With each passing day since then, it has gotten somewhat easier. You have to accept in order to move on. I went home and spent time with my family, celebrated my grandfather's birthday, saw family members who live in other parts of the world. But most of all, we all remembered my grandmother - at her best but also at her not so good moments, the things she would do and say, and her manner of being. There were smiles and there were tears and there was every single other emotion in between. I did not always agree with her, but I will never remember our disagreements. To me, she is and always will be someone I will love and cherish forever.

I want to end this post with a story. While I was back in Bulgaria for a year, I would visit my grandparents almost weekly. One time, I was there for dinner and we had had a lot of food, plus wine, of which my grandfather might have had a little more than usual. We were still sitting at the table, talking, when out of the blue he said to her, "I love you" and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. Her reaction was, "What are you saying?!? You've had too much wine." At that moment in time, I couldn't help but stifle a smile. That's how the two of them were, always.

This post is for her. May you finally accept the fact that people do love you and miss you, and always will. Rest in peace. Почивай в мир.

Obamanos!

It is reality. Barack Obama is the next President of the United States. It will take a little bit for that reality to sink in completely, especially as we return to the usual suspects at the White House over the next couple of months. The results feel special not only because of the historical moment that they represent in so many aspects, but also because I was able to participate in them first-hand. I voted for the first time in a U.S. presidential election, having gained that right two years ago.

Tonight, as I sat among my public policy classmates, our eyes glued to the television screen, our fingers crossed, and our hopes up, I felt grateful that I could participate in this process and witness this transformation directly. And, perhaps, for the very first time since I received my naturalization certificate, I could say I felt truly proud of my second nationality.

Yes we can.

The Rollercoaster Dip

Inevitably, when I go somewhere for a longer period of time, the initial excitement wears off and I experience the slump of being in a foreign place and no-one to discuss and share my excitement or impressions with. Yes, I have the blog. Yes, I can always call and write someone. But it´s not the same. It´s not the same as being able to just call someone up and go out for a beer or coffee or a walk. And I don´t mean just anyone. I mean someone who knows me well. So, I guess as I start my second week here, I have come to the slump I am used to experiencing. Today, I am in a pensive and almost melancholy mood. I miss many people. I know by tomorrow I will feel better, and as I get to know more people, I know the feeling will disappear. But for now, there is no point denying it. And although all my colleagues are out celebrating the 2nd anniversary of the Millennium Challenge Account in Nicaragua (more on that in another post), I simply don´t feel like joining the fun. Yes, I can pretend. But then I am not really one for pretense.

Wide Awake Yet Sleeping

Yes, it has been a while since I wrote here, I agree. And I apologize for my infrequent posting. I hope to change that once this semester is over. I will actually have something new and exciting to write about come June because I will be in Nicaragua for 11 weeks this summer! Very exciting, but I can't fully immerse myself in thoughts about the summer given that quite a bit of work still separates me from my departure date. That's as far as updates go.

The second thought that I wanted to put down is just how unexpectedly spring has crept up on me this year. I had been waiting and waiting. I saw the trees bloom but then I guess I stopped paying attention. At some point last week I actually finally noticed that dandelions and violets had sprung up all over the lawns on my way to school. Somehow that made me feel a little sad; I have always been good about noticing such things. And noticing has always put a smile on my face. But I guess my immersion in all the minute details of my school work made me completely overlook the big picture. That's just one of the things I actually finally noticed that "I didn't notice". I don't even want to think about what else I have missed out on (sigh).

Well, I guess I at least learned something from this: 1) I am never taking more than the regular load of classes again (what was I thinking?). 2) I really need my dose of outdoor time to be happy and feel sane. 3) Taking notice of little things is a treat not to be underestimated.

Nostalgic

Tonight, for the first time in a very long time, I felt nostalgic about not being in college. I never thought I would actually say this since I have been so enamored with grad school so far, but it's true.

I went to a Indian dance performance on campus tonight. It was (as a classmate of mine put it) "punjabitastic". As the lights dimmed and the dancers took up their positions on stage for the first choreography, someone from the audience suddenly yelled out, "Yeah, Rohan!" This was followed by several other similar calls addressed to different dancers. At first, I found this annoying. Having most recently seen only professional performances, I had gotten used to the common courtesy of observing complete silence when in the audience. But then I realized that the audience was simply offering their support for their friends who had been rehearsing for weeks, and perhaps even months, to put this performance together. And I felt a pang of nostalgia. In that moment, all those undergrads seemed so carefree and tightly bonded. At that moment, those things felt very far from my own life right now.

It would be fantastic to have another four years to bond with people when you are just starting out on the road to responsibilities and adulthood. A time when you are learning more about yourself, exploring many different options, and focusing on the friendships. Instead of worrying about whether you will get a job, what kind of job would be best, or what your longer-term plan should be. Instead of having to schedule time for friends weeks in advance and having everything run on a planner and feel choreographed somehow.

I guess, when it boils down to it, I just miss being more spontaneous.

Out of the Loop

Lately, when I have visited my parents and sister in Brussels, I have noticed one thing: I feel out of the loop. They have their inside jokes, their way of talking to each other (my sister often scolding my dad in a manner that would have been completely foreign a few years ago), topics they discuss over dinner, things that they feel passionate about. Often, I find myself not having the slightest idea that they cared about this or that issue. That this or that happened to my mom the other day. It is only normal, I know. After all, they live together and I haven't been living with them since Aug. 1997. There are bound to be a lot of things that I miss out on that go on in my family. Just as there are a lot of things that they miss out on in my day-to-day life.

When I first realized that I was no longer going to be part of this family in the same way (sometime during my second semester in college), I almost panicked. The thought really scared me. It was overwhelming to think of myself as being on my own from now on. (Of course, I was not and am not on my own in that literal way, but you probably know what I mean... it's the fact that the people who have been closest to you your whole life won't know when you are happy or sad, pensive or in need of conversation...the subtleties of one's life are lost to them (as are theirs to me)). I slowly came to accept that that's just the way it was going to be... and that it happens to everyone sooner or later. For me, it just happened much sooner, but that wasn't necessarily a negative thing.

But back to today. This is not really a complaint so much as an observation. I do feel out of the loop sometimes. I do catch myself surprised by certain things when I visit. I sometimes even try to search my memory for any recollection of how things used to be when I lived with my parents. Have things really changed that much? Or have I or my perceptions changed? It is a thought-memory game one could play for hours.

In the end, I just come to the conclusion that despite these "holes" in my collective family experience, the vital supporting structure is still there. In the end, the holes don't matter so much because they can easily be filled. And that will be the case no matter how much time has passed. That's the amazing thing about family.

Things I Miss Right Now

1. My sister.
2. Being able to snuggle up in bed with a good (non-school) book and discuss it with someone close once I have finished reading it.
3. Speaking Bulgarian (doesn't happen to me often these days).
4. Dancing. Sometimes I wish there would be daily dance "stress relief/break from work" sessions with different music playing. I would definitely be a frequent attendee.
5. Being able to stroll through Sofia's city center at night - admire all the lit-up buildings, my favorite fountain in front of the Presidency, knowing that I will be joining friends for drinks and conversation soon (those were some of my best memories from the past year in BG)
6. Theatre in Sofia... the selection is unbelievable.
7. Snow...I really really want to go skiing.
8. Picnics and barbecues in Rock Creek Park (DC).

Guess that is quite a few things.

The Justification

I’ve been watching you, he said.
And I simply sat in silence.
To disagree would be too much,
To agree would prove my weakness.

Accusations – so easily molded
Prove hard to grasp and disentagle.
They fly past and I ignore them,
Breathing deeply, looking boldly.

Doubts cannot come in, I think.
Cannot let neat arguments move me.
Focus, be brave, take the step!
Yet I'm paralyzed; I'm speechless.

One more day, one more night
Certain one day, swayed another
Conference of voices in my head
Some prevailing, others quiet.

I'm still watching you, he said.
And I turned and made my exit.
Did a tear roll down my face?
Or was that merely what I wished for?

Today...

Today, I feel light and happy and I have had a smile plastered on my face for most of the afternoon. (Not that I have been feeling unhappy since I got here or anything but it just feels different today somehow. I can best relate it to the feeling of having found my place when I returned to Bulgaria last year.) It is starting to feel like I am getting to know people better and be more comfortable with/around everyone. Following this presentation skills workshop we had today, everyone in our group (36 of us, about half the class) had to give a toast. I know it probably sounds cheesy but I think that "insignificant" activity brought everyone closer together. (The champagne we had to go along with the toasts probably helped as well:)) I know I am going to be saying this a lot and risk becoming boring in the end but there really is something to be said about the people here. From a Chinese journalist who had to write under an English pseudonym in order to overcome censorship to military guys who have served in Iraq to people who have directly been involved in electoral politics... the span of experiences is beyond anything I could have imagined (and I had heard quite a lot about our school from friends who had completed the program before me). Also, it really is a great feeling to have so much in common with so many people--from personal and professional interests, to experience in various countries, to language skills etc. It is already promising to be a tremendous learning experience. Again, I don't mean to sound cheesy but I truly feel that way.

For those of you who want to get a small glimpse of this place called Princeton, a few pics below.

And last, I have been talking a lot about myself lately. Now I want to know what has made you smile recently.

Today...

Today I just feel kind of empty. I hope the feeling goes away. It's been good to see all my friends here, but somehow I just can't shake off the feeling that I don't belong here. Which in turn makes it very hard to imagine that I will be spending another two years on this side of the Atlantic, starting very soon. Sigh. I know it will be different in an academic environment, both atmosphere-wise and socially, but still... why can't I be thrilled instead of semi-excited?

You Laugh a Little, You Cry a Little

Some of you already know this, but I have decided to share it here with everyone who reads this blog, given that all readers, especially the regulars, now share in my life somehow. My stay in Bulgaria will be coming to an end in 2 months' time...for now, at least. The reason I finally decided to share this here is that I feel torn. But let me back-track a little bit to tell you the full story.

I had applied to graduate schools (International Relations and Public Policy) and was supposed to start school in fall 2006. But I decided to defer for a year and return to Bulgaria instead, promising myself that I would indeed end up going to school the following year if I got accepted to my first-choice school and received enough financial aid to make the decision rational. In the meantime, I wanted to discover for myself what Bulgaria was like, what it is like to live here, and make my own conclusions as to whether I could and want to live here. After 9.5 months, the answer is a very definite YES. So definite, that now I feel somewhat sad that I have to leave for the States again. Don't get me wrong, I am very excited about graduate school, being a student again, and being surrounded by brilliant people, but I will miss Bulgaria, my life here, and everyone in it tremendously. But guess like that poem about the penguin states, I have come to the realization that no matter what, I will always miss something from the other side of the ocean. It is inevitable when I have spent so much time in both places.

What I feel happy about though is that I no longer feel scared of the prospect of ending up here...in fact, at this point in time, I would prefer it, but we'll see what the future has in store. And before bidding Bulgaria farewell for the next two years, I plan to take full advantage of the remaining time (and to document the interesting points here, of course). And no matter where I am, I will continue to write about the things, people, places and happenings that leave an impression. I do hope you will continue reading.

I will be back and forth in the coming weeks, so apologies in advance if I don't update this as often as I usually do.

Back from the Long Weekend (or Why I Love Being in Bulgaria)

Before the long weekend approached (May 24-27), I had decided I was going to spend it in Sofia. Given that I had been away from Sofia most of the previous 4-5 weekends, I wanted to spend some "quality time" at home. Well, that lasted all of one day. On Thursday, a friend called me up and asked me whether I would like to go to her AUBG reunion in Blagoevgrad (a city an hour and a half south of Sofia by car; AUBG=American University in Bulgaria). So on Friday we took the bus and off we were. The following 2 days were fantastic and I am so thankful that she dragged me along!

I hadn't been to Blagoevgrad in 10 years... a lot has changed since that last time. The town is cleaner and more developed. My first impression was how lively and cheerful and packed with young people the city center was (which I guess is no surprise, given that this is a university town). By now, as I have previously mentioned, I have gotten used to meeting old acquaintances in random places, this is Bulgaria after all :) and as a friend once said, "Well, there is only 8 million of you, so what do you expect?" This reunion was the perfect setting to do lots of "random acquaintance meeting"--people from high school, people from Mojito, friends of friends, etc. I even met someone whose New Year's party I had been to 9 years ago... it took us a while to figure that out though. We both had that "I-know-this-person-from-somewhere" feeling, but couldn't quite place the time and location of our last rendezvous... and slowly the memories started resurfacing. It was an interesting process. From initially looking only vaguely familiar, I started remembering the name, the place, the conversations, the people who were part of that same evening.

From there, the rest of the weekend was spent with a group of people (some old, some new acquaintances) eating, drinking, dancing at Underground (the all-time favorite club/bar for AUBG-ers), walking around. I didn't really know these people or not very well at least, but it was as if we were old friends. Connections were immediately made; you know someone who they know, etc. and in that way it's like you know each other. On Saturday night, as I sat watching a play put on by AUBG alumni, surrounded by people laughing, it occurred to me: This is why I love Bulgaria... this is why I am very very happy that I came back here. For moments and times such as these. Even when you don't really know the people who surround you, you know that you are connected to them somehow, through someone, and you feel close to them regardless ... like in that theatre. You feel in your place.

Estrangement in Bulgarian Society

This morning I witnessed the following scene: an old lady (probably in her late 70s or early 80s) with a walking cane was trying to cross the street in the middle of construction of tram tracks (which has been going on for a few weeks now). The problem was that the construction people had not thought of creating a temporary bridge or walkway of some sort, so people have to literally jump over recently installed tracks and through dug-out holes a foot or so (30-40cm) in depth. So the old lady was struggling to make these maneuvers. Every step with her walking cane took her at least 5 seconds. At the same time, people were simply passing her by, breezing right past her as if she didn't exist. That saddened me. As I neared her (since I was crossing in the opposite direction), I offered her my hand as support to make the last steps to the pavement. She was totally surprised, but immediately started offering words of gratitude and blessings. (She said something to the effect of, "Thank you very much. May you have much health, my child." Благодаря много. Да си живо и здраво детето ми. )

As I walked away I thought to myself: How simple it is to do something good, to help someone, to make someone happy even for a moment. The sad part is that unfortunately Bulgarian society, as I have come to notice, has become a lot more individualistic and selfish to an extent. With the changes that have taken place since the fall of Communism, the economic hardships that most have gone and still go through on a daily basis, we have become estranged to each other. I remember when neighbors used to regularly visit each other. Now, we all hide behind our apartment walls, often barely saying hello as we pass each other in the hall or elevator. We simply ignore what goes on around us and pretend we don't see (just as was the case with the old lady). I share this here not because I am trying to make myself look like a saint for helping her; on the contrary, what I have come to realize and what has shocked me is that I feel that inevitably I have somewhat started to turn into those uncaring people that would rather ignore than do something.

With my return here I learned that I can't always be polite, make way for people on the street, or wait for a customer service rep to take notice of me in a bank, for example, because then you are just trodden upon and don't get anything done. To a degree, you need a little bit of "non-caringness" to live here. That's the simple truth. However, that should not reach the point of complete callousness or selfishness. Despite the somewhat harsh reality here at times and the bullshit, we need to remain human. I need to remain human and myself. Doing what I did today reminded me of that. It also made me feel good inside.

Back in the Day

I have really enjoyed spending more time with my grandparents since I have been back in Bulgaria. Not only because I love the Sunday lunches that one of my grandmothers always prepares but also because I have learned a lot more about each of them as people. And interestingly enough I also learned how they each met their spouse. For some reason, I hadn't known this until now, or even been curious to ask. I have no idea why. Seems like something I would have loved to learn even when I was 17 or 18.

The stories of both my sets of grandparents really touched me... actually, they almost made me cry (yes, I can be sentimental like that). So, as something that has had an impact, I thought I would share them here.

The first story: My grandfather met my grandmother after he first moved to Sofia from his village. He rented a room in a big house not far from the city center; he had 3 or 4 other housemates. The stairs to the upper floors passed right outside his bedroom window. One evening as it was pouring out he noticed a young woman with an elderly man walk up the stairs. They were both drenched from the rain. My grandfather claims that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It turns out that the young woman knew one of the other housemates and was hoping to find a room to rent in the same house. Her father was accompanying her. The landlord turned them away saying there were no more rooms available. But my grandfather intervened, offering to share a room with one of the other housemates and make his available for her. And that was that. The woman moved in; somehow they all fit in the house. And, of course, it's probably not too hard to guess that the young woman in the story is my grandmother. So here we have it: love at first sight. Only a couple of months later they each visited their respective families to introduce the other person and were married a month later.

The second story: My grandmother was on the train on the way to visit her cousins. And this is where she met a young man with whom she talked most of the way. Before getting off the train, the man asked for her address and whether he could write to her. My grandmother agreed. They kept up their letter correspondence for at least a year while he was stationed with the army and saw each other perhaps once or twice. They were married soon after his second visit to her village.

What struck me about both these stories is not only the almost fairy-tale way in which they start... but also how simple, quick, and based on little information the decision to marry was. Nowadays, it seems that we ask ourselves too many questions, analyze way too much, and view every relationship under a magnifying glass to figure out whether it is the right one. And we do this not only with relationships. Obviously, things are very different now from the way they were when my grandparents were in their late teens and early 20s, but sometimes I can't help but wish that I wouldn't think through things so much (and I am not talking only about relationships here) and would just take the plunge.

Anyway, I would be curious to hear your thoughts on analyzing too much nowadays vs. having it all be much simpler back then. Why can't things just be simple?

A Good Day

Today is a good day. Not that anything in particular has happened. But somehow I am at peace and feel... happy. I think it's good to note those moments; makes it much easier to get through the tougher times when they come around.

(I think I can "blame" the arrival of spring for my good mood.)

Smiling... and why

Things that make me smile today:
1. It is Friday.
2. No matter how crazy it gets at work I can always block out the sounds and part of the stress by listening to frisky radio.
3. I am going to see another play tonight--Sexx with Andrey Batashov.
4. It appears I received a comment to my post Beautiful Bodies from Laura Cunningham--the playwright of "Beautiful Bodies", the play I absolutely loved. Google never ceases to amaze me.
5. I am surrounded by friends and family--at the office, virtually, in Sofia, in the US... and in other parts of the world--from Spain to New Zealand... every time I remember that, the thought makes me smile.
6. I look forward to the John Digweed gig tomorrow at City Center Sofia Mall.

What puts a smile on your face today?

A Slightly Complicated Question

Tonight as I was having dinner with my grandmother, she asked me, "Is America an attractive country?"

She caught me slightly unprepared for that question. My first reaction was to say "No." I don't think of the US as an attractive country--yes, there are definitely interesting things to see; the landscape is phenomenal in some parts; and some of the cities are pretty unique (like New York or Chicago, for example). However, I don't know why the word "attractive", in my mind, doesn't quite accurately describe what the US is like. Which led me to another question. What is the US like? How do I describe it to someone who has never been there? A country in which everything is of massive proportions, distances are large, and people very materialistic and individualistic (as well as workaholics), where society at large is pretty conservative, yet claims not to be? That applies, but those descriptions definitely don't do it justice. Make it seem like I don't have a very high opinion of the place where I spent the past 9 years. So, here briefly are a few of the positive things I have found about the US:
1. People are friendly, and although in most cases that is superficial, it still makes your day a whole lot more pleasant than when you are being frowned upon the whole time.
2. You can achieve almost anything you set your mind to. Many people will claim "the land of opportunities" is merely a cliche. I couldn't disagree more.
3. People are open to new ideas and aren't afraid of being different (and of not following the path recommended by society at large)--i.e., traveling the world for a year, joining the Peace Corps, volunteering, etc.

To end this story, I will also tell you something (slightly unrelated) that touched me. My grandmother then told me how when she was young and still living with her parents in their village, "Gone with the Wind" (the book) had become a big hit, and she had asked my grandfather (who was still courting her at that time) to buy it for her from "the city". She read it all in "one breath", as she put it. I don't know what exactly touched me about this story. The fact that she had the opportunity to experience something clearly "American" decades before I made it to the US to study? Or perhaps the fact that this book in particular transcends borders and time to touch the hearts of thousands of people? Or maybe it was the fact that her image of America stems from that book...and she will always view it as "attractive."

Today...

Tonight as I was heading home, walking along Tsar Osvoboditel (one of the main streets in Sofia), for the first time since I arrived, I thought to myself "It feels good to be here." It's not that I felt badly before; as I think I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, I just felt sort of neutral. I didn't feel bad, but I guess I also didn't feel at home. Slowly, I think that is changing. And it's definitely a great feeling! Liberating, is the best word I can think of. Slowly, I don't feel behind, like I always have to get used to something I am not familiar with, start from scratch...I do find it a bit strange that I feel this way only a few days after my worst week, as described in Saturday's post... but I guess that is how things are here. It is a roller-coaster ride all the way and a place of extremes. We'll see how it goes from here.

So as a treat :), here are a few pics I took last week of some of my favorite landmarks in Sofia, and a view towards Boyana ("suburb" of Sofia, if I can call it that, although it sounds funny to me) and Vitosha mountain, taken from my grandparents' apartment. Click on the image if you want to see a (much) enlarged version.