| Submitted by: Evelyn C. LeeperUnited States |
| Submission Date: 10 February 2005 |
|
 |
 |
As we did the
woman said, 'Ploschtad Lenin, number 7,' and pointed to where we
would catch the number 7. We thanked her (one of the few words of
Bulgarian we knew) and, as we looked back at our tram, discovered
our problem. In the confusion we had taken the number 9 instead of
the number 2. The large building turned out to be the train
station. We also discovered that the tram stops are printed on
signs at the waiting spots, so we just had to count how many stops
there were to Lenin Square and there we were. All this excitement
for only 70 stotinki (4 cents) each!
One of the first things we saw walking around (other than the
Sheraton, which dominates the square in a way Lenin's statue, now
gone, never could) was the yellow brick road. Yes, there really is
a yellow brick road. (Actually, it's mustard-colored, but I'll take
literary license.) It is made of an expensive paving stone called
klinker that came from Vienna in 1917 and was used to pave the
streets right around the palace area.
There is a very large synagogue in Sofia known for its
chandelier, so we wanted to see it. But it was on an unlabeled
street on our map. Would we be able to find it? I looked in the
general direction and saw a huge dome and on top of it, not a cross,
but a Star of David. I am still not used to the idea that a
synagogue could be as obvious as a church--in the United States,
synagogues tend to keep a low profile, especially in the physical
sense, as they are usually only one story high. But in Europe, at
least before the Holocaust, they built *big* synagogues.
We took pictures of the outside (and the street sign--believe
it or not, the synagogue is on George Washington Street!), then went
around to the entrance. A woman came out and we tried to indicate
we wanted to see the synagogue. I think she tried to tell us it was
closed, but we had no language in common, so she finally let us in,
probably due in part to our downcast looks when it appeared the
synagogue was closed. Actually, the synagogue is being renovated.
So much of the interior was covered with scaffolding, though we
could see the famous chandelier. It's nice that now that Communism
has fallen the synagogues of Eastern Europe are being restored; I
just wish it hadn't been during our trip.
One of the things the woman pointed out was a curtain donated
by someone from Nagasaki in 1900--an unlikely source. The
synagogue, by the way, is Sephardic, hence the domed structure.
After seeing the synagogue, we walked around a bit. Mark,
proud of his newly learned Cyrillic, spent his time reading signs
and book titles (there were a lot of street vendors selling books).
We even bought a pair of Clifford Simak novellas in Bulgarian.
We're not sure which ones--normally this information would be on the
copyright page, but many things are in short supply in the ex-
Communist countries, and in Bulgaria, copyright pages are among
them. Someone recently wrote to LOCUS (a science fiction news
magazine) that English-language science fiction is hard to find in
Bulgaria. It could be the local disregard for copyright laws that
has authors and publishers unwilling to send their works there.
Prices are much lower in Bulgaria than in any of the other
countries we visited (except possibly Romania--but there was little
to buy there). Books run about five leva (30 cents). Shirts and
blouses are under US$2. A soda from a street stall is 2 leva (about
12 cents). Our lunch on the way in was 22 leva (US$1.32) for the
two of us for soup, shish kebab, and yogurt. And, unlike in
Romania, here the stores are full of stuff. (Though again, I saw
few postcards--the tourism industry hasn't been built up yet, I
guess.) There is plenty of food and plenty of consumer goods. One
minor example: in Romania everyone seems to light their cigarette
from someone else's cigarette; we saw few match boxes and no
matchbooks. Here everyone selling cigarettes has match boxes as
well. (Where do the Romanians get their cigarettes, one wonders.
And what is their alcoholism rate, given that half the liquid stock
in their groceries appears to be beer? But I regress.)
Finally we returned to the hotel (on the right tram!). We went
through a large park--Sofia claims to be known as the greenest city
in Europe because of its parks. (Of course, it turned out that
Belgrade made this claim also, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)
One of the buildings we passed (in a somewhat run-down neighborhood)
was the Embassy of Palestine.
Dinner was nothing special: chef's salad, veal, and apple
strudel. One doesn't take Brendan tours for the fabulous food,
that's for sure. On the other hand, that's not the main thing we
travel for.
|
Breakfast was an enormous buffet. It would
have seemed enormous even if it hadn't been right after Romania; as
it was, the fresh strawberries and cherries alone would have been
wonderful.
Our arrival in the center of Sofia was somewhat delayed while
we waited for the cavalcade of the Israeli president to drive
through an intersection we wanted to cross. He was in Budapest at
the same time we were (the Parliament building was flying the
Israeli flag), and now he was in Sofia. Is he following us?
When we arrived in Sofia, the first thing that happened was
that we changed guides. The person we thought was our city guide
was just filling in until the real guide arrived--and a good thing,
as the real guide's English was much better than the substitute's.
(The Spanish speakers had a separate guide.)
We started with the old Roman ruins preserved around
St. George's Church, which dates from the 4th Century. But the
guide explained that the earliest known inhabitants of the region
were the Thracians. They were great horsemen and had a horseman as
their chief god, but since they had no written language, little else
is known about them. Oh, they believed this world was a punishment
and so wept at births and rejoiced at funerals. (Wouldn't this lead
to such a high suicide and murder rate the society would collapse?
There must be more that we weren't told.) The Romans named the town
Serdica, meaning 'center,' because it was at the intersection of the
main east-west road and the main north-south road of the region.
In a pedestrian underpass we saw more Roman ruins, this time of
the walls surrounding Serdica. They have made this into a little
museum with descriptions of the ruins and a display case of objects
found. At one end was the coat of arms of Sofia with its motto,
'PACTE HO HE CTAPEE' ('Ever changing, never growing old'). The
fortification had been strengthened by others after the Romans, but
not always successfully, and one very modern wall mural (done as
metal figures mounted on the stone wall) shows the keys of the city
being handed over to the invading Huns in 809. (The caption reads
'XAH KPYM C BONCKATA CN B E NZA B CEP W NKA 809'--except the 'N's
are really backwards capital 'N's.)
Our guide pointed out the building which had been the Communist
Party headquarters and was now the Socialist Party headquarters.
There are some external changes as well--the big red star from the
top is done and there are burn marks around several of the windows
on the ground floor. At the end of 1989, when everything was
falling apart, a fire broke out in the building. Whether it was
from government officials trying to burn incriminating documents or
from someone trying to burn down the Communist headquarters isn't
know (according to our guide) because the new government decided for
the sake of civil peace not to investigate.
The next stop used to be the Georgi Dimitrov Mausoleum, where
the body of Dimitrov used to lie in state as Lenin's does (did?) in
Moscow. But things change, and the Mausoleum is closed while they
figure out what to do with it. Dimitrov, who led the first European
anti-fascist revolt in 1923, went on to become the First Secretary
in 1945. He was, at least until recently, regarded as the 'Father
of Bulgaria.' Now he is buried in a cemetery somewhere. Lenin's
statue from the square is also gone and the whole area where it was
seems to be under construction. Even the stars (and hammer and
sickles) in the stonework of the buildings from the last forty years
are being chipped out.
(It was about this time I discovered that the last roll of film
I had shot, starting in Brasov, appeared not to have loaded
properly. Luckily I think Mark also took all the important shots.)
(Postscript: it had loaded properly; it hadn't fully rewound because
the batteries were low, but the one inch remaining out didn't ruin
any pictures.)
We passed St. Nikolaj and St. Sofia Churches, after once again
watching the auto procession of the Israeli president, this time
driving down the yellow brick road. We also walked down Ruski
Boulevard, whose name hasn't been changed as far as we can tell.
This may be because the friendship with the Russians predates
Communism; Russia helped Bulgaria free itself from the Turks in
1878. This is why the Bulgarians built St. Alexander Nevsky
Cathedral--to honor a Russian saint.
As we were approaching the Nevsky Cathedral, an old woman came
up to Mary (who was in her wheelchair at the time) and started
touching Mary's shoulders and legs and saying something in
Bulgarian. With the help of the guide, we found out she claimed to
have a healing touch, but since we were on a schedule and she needed
more than thirty seconds, Mary gave her regrets. The woman seemed
sincere and wasn't threatening, but it was unusual, maybe because in
the United States we see these people more on television than in
real life.
We entered the Nevsky Cathedral and got an explanation of the
iconostasis (the icons surrounding the altar doors). The icon to
the right of the doors (your right as you are facing them) is always
of Jesus. Immediately to the left of the doors is Mary, frequently
holding the baby Jesus and pointing to him, as if to say, 'This is
the Way.' To the left of Mary is the icon of the saint to whom the
church is dedicated. Unlike Roman Catholic churches, Orthodox
churches are not long and narrow, but more square. In this, the
Orthodox churches, the mosques, and the synagogues in this area we
have seen are similar.
One problem with viewing Orthodox churches is that they are
very dark inside; the architecture does not allow as many windows as
a Catholic church. Or maybe it's the philosophy--should there be
more mystery than daylight allows?
When the tour was over, we tried to tip the guide (as was
customary in all the other cities). She seemed very flustered by
this; apparently it's still not allowed or accepted in Bulgaria.
Steve, Mary, Mark, and I then headed for the exhibition at the
Jewish Cultural Center, which supposedly told how Bulgaria's Jews
were saved from the Nazis. The construction around Lenin Square
made navigating with the wheelchair difficult and the lack of street
signs (at times) combined with our map which didn't label every
street got us a bit lost--and in the heat, that wasn't fun. |
|
| Copyright © - "Evelyn C. Leeper" |
|
 |
| Other travelogues by the same author: |
|
|
|