Alaskan Bulgarian

One of Them Walkin' Stories

Yesterday I took a long spring walk around town, the doves came back for a time, and all this was in those heady hours before Condi Rice testified on CNN. It was a big and busy day. But the weather was clear, with a stiff breeze, and enough warmth to keep the coat at home. I'd been meaning to take a walk throughout this entire week off. I figured yesterday was as good a day as any to get around to it.

Silistra has been looking awfully good lately. There are small green leaves on most of the smaller trees, and the cherry blossoms are still hanging in there. Even the sycamores outside my window have been waking up to see what's going on. They don't give me to much shade yet, but they will when it counts. I decided to start the walk at the hill on the south end of town. There's a TV tower and an old Turkish fortress at the top, but before you hit the tourist attractions there are great views of town and terrific plantlife (And that's why you're here isn't it? To see plantlife?).

The Orbita Hotel is about 3/4s of the way up the hill, facing town and the river. I don't think it really runs anymore. Frankly, I can't understand how it ever did. It's a twenty minute walk from the bottom of the steep-ish hill to the hotel's entrance and the only road access comes from a driveway that begins five miles south of town on the road to Shumen. I can imagine a Soviet tour agent telling some less-than-favored party member that "Northen Bulgaria is really very nice this time of year. And I'm sure you'll find the hike to your hotel pleasant, too. Fatty." Forced excursions are really the only way I can see this hotel existing. Surprisingly, it's mentioned in my Lonely Planet, published a few years back, but it's not really given top billing.

At the top of the hill, you run into the sunflower fields. Or at least that's what these were last year. So I'm guessing that 3 months from now this will be solid and flowing gold. This also marked the beginning of the powerlines that plagued each and every view. But seeing as I haven't had any power outages to speak of in my just-less-than a year here, I suppose I shouldn't complain. They've done their job.

After the giant sunflower fields came the smaller vineyards and cherry orchards that ran along the trail until the fields became a forest with small clearings meant for things that love to eat grass. The blossoms have been around for a few weeks now, and they've recently picked up some leaves for collars. As I was passing and taking the photo, the tree was pretty visibly shedding, although I'm afraid I didn't pick it up too well. Spring is moving slowly on, but it still seems to be near its peak.

And that, if folklore is to be believed, is what got spring to where it is today. The red and white strings between the blossoms are martenitsi, the bracelets one wears in Bulgaria throughout March. Solomon Passy even wore one at the NATO induction ceremony, although it was arguably beyond all martenitisi expiration dates. The things are supposed to come off, at the latest--I've heard, by March 23rd or the first offical days of spring. When they do come off, they get tied to a fruit bearing tree like this one, or placed beneath a rock. And there they stay until they fall. I've seen martenitsi that must be three or four years old still clinging to their branches.

And speaking of things that have passed their time. This was a small hut along the trail I was walking. In the distance is Silistra's TV tower. I have no idea what purpose this hut served, or if anyone lived there, but it looks like somebody didn't want it there anymore and then gave up on getting rid of it. So now it just sits there, one of Silistra's many, many ruins. And one of the newer ruins at that, from the looks of it.

Getting into the forest and dodging little brown piles, it wasn't a great surprise when I came on this little tableau. The shepard was in among his sheep on the left, and the two goats in the middle of the road kept an eye on me as I passed. Apparently, I was suspicious. Later came cows, then horses. There's more than enough for everyone to eat right now, but when that lower growth disappears come summer, there are going to be pretty few choices. They seemed to be enjoying it while it was there.

On the way back, I passed the old, half-built hospital. 14 or 15 floors of incomplete mass. In its own way, it's sad and terrifying. Terrifying in that there seems to be a building like this in every Bulgarian city, no matter how large or small. It was a country that was expanding and had big ideas (like a major hospital four miles out of town), and then everything ended quickly. Now it's slowly rebuilding, new restaurants in the center of town, ads on every billboard, rumors of an airbase. The signs of rebirth are everywhere around here, and sometimes I only see them. Then I take a walk and stumble on this hospital, which may never be finished, and you have to wonder just a little bit about things.

Posted by Rob at April 9, 2004 07:55 PM