If you read the previous post, you may have wondered, “Why would anyone be making cartwheels and horseshoes?” Well, one of the really cool things about living in Boychinovtsi is that, at times, it felt like I was a time-traveler who had jumped back in time perhaps 100 years. Cars were far outnumbered by bicycles, horse-carts, and donkey-carts, and the closest thing to a traffic jam was a stubborn mule or a parade of goats in the middle of the road. Beyond that, neighbors in Boychinovtsi take the time to get to know each other. They stop to talk to each other, look after each other, and are quick to share food, drink, and laughter. I imagine it's how things once were everywhere. It's how things should be.
Rush hour in Boychinovtsi.
Donkey-carts were even more common than horse-carts.
Boychinovtsi traffic jam.
Sveti, my host niece, enjoying a bike ride.
Stoil with his bike.
One of three horse-carts we had, compliments of Stoil's handiwork.