GO-ING, GOIN', GONE TO BULGARIA & BACK TO USA

GOING, GOIN', GONE TO BULGARIA & BACK 
TO USA 

Closing the chapter on a summer vacation is a tough thing to do. It is not because the sun will never shine brightly again. Fall is full of colors; winter is innocently white. 

Nature is pretty. If you take the time to look around, you will find screaming beauty. Even a family member, who never talks to you is beautiful. Maybe, you never told him he was beautiful. There must be a reason to become friends with someone on FB, too. Go back and remind yourself of this moment!

In my case, I am friends with Bulgaria. I am not referring to FB. I was born there. Even the customs officer knew it by looking at my first and middle name. My last name is American. My husband is American.

Let's start the story with Bulgaria. 

As far as my native country, I will be frank with you -- I do not read the Bulgarian newspapers, follow the news on Bulgarian TV, or attend any events bringing together the immigrants in USA. I have my reasons for it -- I try to stay away from what may create a misconception and reinforce some preconceived notions in my head. I want to keep my memories solely of the Nature and my people.

This time, just like before, my trip was not well planned, my health does not allow it. It never listens to me. 

After crossing the ocean, my husband and I made a stop in Vienna. The rest of my family lives there. 

It does not do justice to Bulgaria to be compared with one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. Besides, the story is not about Vienna. Vienna is music, culture, art, architecture, coffee and pastries (excuse me, Schnitzel)... and much more. 

If I have to choose a city to live in Europe, it will be Vienna. 

I have a big part of my heart there. I do not have the German language down, but I have always been a good student. 

The Ferris Wheel ( my all times favorite)

Whether I like the name (expat), or a visitor, or a tourist, I am one of those. I was goin' to Bulgaria. 

Upon arrival there, I experienced something totally personal.  One can call it a 'reverse culture shock'.  I go so rarely, for such a short period of time, I have to draw my conclusions about the country from a 6 day visit. I just walk on the yellow pavers and think what I did 20 years ago. Were the pavers different, or I was different. I reminisce about everything and nothing specific. A bird can make me cry, the bird on the next tree may look the same, but it will make me smile. This 'reverse culture shock' goes farther and farther as reminiscencing over the past continues.

In the country you were born, feeling "gone" is not nostalgia,  It is a date with the surreal. Have you experienced a dream, which gives you a smile and tears? I have many of those. I open one of my eyes, look around and run back into my sleep.

At the beginning, going back to Bulgaria resembled that dream. We arrived late, went to the hotel and woke up early. I put on a white dress. I wanted to look beautiful for my morning meeting with Bulgaria. We had just a few hours before driving to the Black Sea. 

We always see The Bulgarian Orthodox Church first. It never sleeps. It always waits there for me; it smells the same; it feels the same. Every time we visit the country we end up with tons of pictures from it and paintings of it from unknown artists sitting at the market closeby. 

It was Sunday; everything was closed [but the churches] and the  currency exchange place. I could not go back to the dream. The Home of God and the currency exchange place woke me up. There were many tears, but I also got a picture in a white dress. That was it.

It was time to be with family, have some nice food and travel to the beach town. 

I wrote two blog posts from my vacation. "Tasty and Testy in Bulgaria" and "The Girl & the Rufa Fish." They are both to be found on colemanwriting.blogspot.com. Those two posts are among my favorite; What upset me, shocked me, made me smile and brought joy to my heart is in there.... 

As they say in the big books, this represents different stages of my 'reverse culture shock'. 

Years from now, I will laugh and frown upon what I wrote.  

When I was living in Bulgaria I was not a close friend with the breathtaking Bulgarian mountains. I was not a mountaineer. Maybe, I never had a good friend to take me to the mountains and introduce me to them. I had one, who made going to the mountains a sprint, not a slow pace enjoyment. I truly regret not finding a real friend for mountain hikes. 

Just look at the mountain pictures of a young Bulgarian photographer --  Maya. I missed on all this beauty.

It is never too late to go back and explore, hang out with the mountains.

I live in USA. My husband was born in Colorado. He is not simply American; he loves nature; he loves mountains; he works and teaches about nature. If asked what he can't live without, he will choose me, I know it, but I will be in the tree crown. This is an envious place to be, isn't it? 

Is there someone born in Colorado, who does not love mountains? If there is one, help him! If anyone who sees them and does not 'awe' at the view, help him!

I looked back at my family albums only to realize that I appear on every picture in the mountains. Next time, I will make sure there are more mountains without me.

Our time in Bulgaria ended after 6 days. We flew back to Vienna and, finally, to USA. Tired but exulted, we did a frantic car race to pic up our third member of the family - Tiger Boy. We all felt like we have not seen each other for years. "Where have you been? I wish we were all together."

This experience makes me wonder, "where is home?" Is it where I an born? Is it where I have a family and friends? Is it where I have a house? To me, there is only one answer. 

Home is where LOVE is. If one has not found LOVE yet, he should keep looking. It comes in all shapes and forms, any season, any place, any time. You may not be able to have a house, but in your heart you have more than enough space for LOVE. This is your "Stairway to Heaven"