In exactly one month my Peace Corps service will be over, and I will be relaxing in
I’ve got several things to blog about between now and then, but let’s start
with things I’ll miss when I leave Bulgaria.
It goes without saying that I’ll miss lots of people, but here are a few of the other
things I’m really going to miss.
Public transportation. Lots of other volunteers complain about the buses and trains. I love them. They have taken me to the four corners of
all places in between. The public transportation here is far superior to what we
have in the USA.
Train rides. I love train rides, and it is definitely my preferred means of transportation here.
Spring. I’ve written before about how much I’ve enjoyed spring in
White Storks. Symbolic. Iconic. Awesome.
Woodstoves. I’m particularly going to miss the smell of the smoke in Bulgarian villages from woodstoves from autumn through early spring.
Shepherds and goat herders. A field or hillside without a shepherd or goat herder will forever look incomplete to me after living here.
Little Owls. In every village, Little Owls sit on rooftops and bark away at dusk.
Seasonal markets. First come the mandarins, then come the strawberries, cherries, raspberries, apricots, watermelons, melons, peaches, and finally the apples and grapes. The vegetables have their seasons too, with cucumbers and tomatoes (I know it’s technically a fruit) dominating the summer months, peppers the late summer and fall, pumpkin and zucchini fall, and potatoes and cabbage late fall through early spring.
Fresh fruits and veggies from the garden. There is nothing like a Шопска салата made from fresh cucumbers and tomatoes straight from the garden.
Walking down the street and picking fruit. Fruit trees are everywhere. The ones with branches hanging over the sidewalk are fair game.
Two liters. A two liter bottle of beer costs about $2. There is no better way to spend an afternoon than sitting in the park with friends, drinking a two liter, and people watching.
Freedom. There might be open container laws, but they aren’t enforced. You can freely walk down the street or ride the train with a bottle of beer, booze, or wine without a care. You can raise livestock, walk them down the street whenever you want, and kill them in your backyard without worry.
Black Redstarts. One of these guys has awakened me with his song from spring to fall for the past three years.
The distant sound of a train whistle piercing the frozen air.
Feasting on home-grown, farm-raised chicken, rabbit, goat, pig, and lamb.
Horse and donkey carts and the clickety clack of the animals' hooves on the pavement.
The smell of peppers roasting.
Дюнери. On a Peace Corps living allowance, there is nothing better. Why Bulgarians eat at McDonald's and KFC is beyond me.
|Photo by Lori Joas.|