AaronTsay: Бургас и Аарон

Leaving Veliko Turnovo was actually sad - I felt like I was being ripped out of my home. That's the thrill of traveling and life; getting out of your comfort zone. Damn! I had gotten so used to just pouring honey down my throat while eating bread...

My train was scheduled to leave at 14:53 and arrive at 20:45 - just a few minutes after the Salsa class I looked up online would end. I had a transfer in a city called Stara Zagora (Old Zagora) and half the ride Hristo was present, as he was heading home towards Kazlanak - which has wonderful roses.

The train station situation was hectic - I was told to be prepared for old women shoving you out of the way and for people fighting over seats. The reality was not all too bad. The smell though, was. Going from German ICEs and Regiobahns to Bulgarian trains was a huge switch, you get so used to having your cleaniless and order... In the train I rode in, it was in a deteoriated condition. But the lighting was good!

After the senile man and just about every other passenger - Hristo too - left, it was down to me and this other dude. He sneezed, and that's when we started the conversation - after the "Na sdravi" - "To health." I learned that he was studying Social Paedagog - like Social Work. We shared the belief that people are fascinating, but there are always your extremes of jerks and so... Seems like we can only recall negatives so easily... like right now for example!

We reached Stara Zagora and the train station itself was...just empty and also deteoriated. You learn to appreciate what you have then quickly get used to conditions. I boarded onto the train to Burgas and three hours later... I was there. The place I had known, but at the same time, did not ;).

Much to my dismay, I was unable to get a place to sleep for a week from Couchsurfing - too many old people says one of Hristo's roommates and not enough students. Also to my dismay - but expected - was the cold weather and snow. Both of which I was aware of prior to arriving. It was actually some of the most snow in years, which I was super excited for. After a few failed attempts of locating my hostel and walking around aimlessly, I reached my hostel after consulting the free WiFi in the Burgas Train Station- Hostel Burgas, and was greeted by a rather large man who resemebled a mix of Hugo from Lost and Hagrid. I asked Mitko - the only person there prior to my arrival, whether or not I was the only one there.

"Yes."
"woohoo.."

I took to the streets to get some food - I could have swore I saw a food stand in the town center... I brought my netbook along to use the internet at the train station, which was the only train station I had ever been to with FREE wifi - FREE.

So I get kicked out of the train station because it's closing time and make way to the food stand in the town center. Something doesn't seem right at all. In fact I feel uncomfortable. I get to the food stand and all of a sudden, there's three thin and tall girls surrounding me - like a bunch of cats ready to be fed. I'm thinking to myself...it's a cold Monday night...three girls - Oh God no - there from The Red Cross and they want donations! Then the boy manning the grill says to me "Bitches bitches bitches..." and I take a closer look - great, they're prostitutes - thank goodness they weren't with The Red Cross ;).

I get my food and want to get out because I don't feel comfortable at all. One of the ladies approaches me and asks for the time. I pull my cell phone out and drop it - D'oh! I show her the time...then we have a small dialogue...

"Piesh okay?" - "Smoke?"
"Ne."
"Sex okay?"
"Ne."

She then mutters something I didn't understand and I walk away, a Forest Gump moment - completely innocent. I continue to pick up tempo and I can hear the high heels clicking - it reminds me of the days where I lived in Vauban, and every morning my roommate would walk up our stairs with her high heels on. That's when I would know my roommate was awake (I ended up leaving Vauban cause we had a disagreement between a ghost doing the dishes). The tempo of the high heels increases...and I'm thinking to myself, "Aaron, use the bag if you need a weapon." I hear some shouts of "Hey" - think of a man imitating a girl voice - and some whistling until I get halfway to the hostel, where they've given the chase up.

I go home feeling sick - not sure from the meat or because of the incident. I get back to the hostel and tell Mitko about what had happened over a glass of wine.

"Oh yeah..them we know them"
"What???"
"We don't actually know them, but they hang around there"

That night I go to sleep and wake up in the morning I need to do something - a paper. Oh and I put on my Martenista that Presiyan gave to me - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martenitsa

So I trudge through the day interpreting a poem called "Memory of Marie A." and make way to a Salsa class and to meet some breakdancers.

The Salsa class itself was fun, especially because it was instructed in Bulgarian. I believe somewhere along the lines, he asked whether or not I understood what he was saying. Of course I responded with an "excuse me?" and luckily both teachers could speak sehr gut English. Afterwards, I ran towards my next practice - breakdancing.

Five people present, one leaves.

"He's got teen problems...but first we dance, then we talk"

So we cyphered- these guys were good; they executed very cleanly. I had actually been in contact with one of them for a month and had planned to meet them since then. The music too, was slightly different; bit more electro.

"Now that we have danced, we can talk"

Afterwards we had a nice discussion about my encounters with the prostitutes, violence, and politics. We joke around and I get a feel for what type of relationship they've all got with each other..

After days of attempting to write my paper, getting chased by hookers, and getting ripped off by a taxi, Thursday finally arrives. I decide to visit a bar (Vile Vilekula) that a couchsurfer was working at and ended up skipping practice. I was certainly not prepared for what happened afterwards. . .

Anywho! The weekend comes and Burgas was lit, the sun was shining, and I was feeling good. The only drawback was that I was leaving for Istanbul on Saturday night...

I walk the beach and people are rather friendly, when all of a sudden I hear German... Turns out these two, mother and daughter, were from Kassel - originally from Cottbus, and had decided to live in Burgas/Bulgaria because of more freedom in education for a youth. This resonated with what I had heard before - that Bulgaria is a great place to grow up in. We walk and talk for about two hours, talking about politics...til it's go time - for SALSA!

I go to the Cocktails and Dreams Bar, where I had been before the previous night, I sit at the bar and get to know the bartender and he serves me drinks and recommendations. He said he came to Burgas for love. Salsa wouldn't occur til about an hour and a half later - all the while my stomach is killing me so I decide to use the restroom. I get done with my business and the air dryer isn't working, so I start fiddling with it, figuring out if there's a button or some certain pressure to push. I'm touching the dispenser everywhere, then all of a sudden the pressure was too much on me pushing up too hard and the dispenser goes flying up, resulting in taking out a picture frame off the wall. I gently put it to the side, the frame, and the dispenser comes on. I finish drying my hands...then I figure out the picture frame.. A few more minutes pass and Dobri - the bartender - and I get into a deeper conversation on what matters in life, family and friends, and then it's time to go upstairs. But before I go, I meet an ex-patriate of the U.K. who tells me that he is an oil engineer in - guess where - Libya.

Turns out that he was lucky to get out before the "shit hit the fan" and that he's currently getting paid to do...nothing.

"I was told to go and I asked them what they wanted me to do...well they didn't respond, so I'm just getting drunk. I get to spend time with my girlfriend and we don't see each other so often, so it's nice."

The company was losing roughly 20 million a day in profits and the rucus in Libya resulted in about 120 of their company vehicles, 30,000 USD each, getting forcefully and "peacefully" taken away by an armed mob.

I go upstairs and tell the bartender that Dobri is a good guy - he is afterall! The upstairs portion is rather small, and there was hardly anyone up there, so I go to talk to this dude...until "She" arrived. In the corner of my eye was a boy who looked to be 16 or so, doing some spins. .

As a commentary note - I have not seen any Asian people at all...in any of the Latin/Salsa parties I have seen. Furthermore I have no seen any Asian people in Bulgaria - save for those operating restaurants. I like to think that I have a tendency to stick out.

She comes up to me, I'm like fresh meat, and we go to dance. I use my few moves, but we have a good time. Afterwards, she introduces me to her friends, telling me, "now that I have danced with you, they will dance with you." That didn't work - yet.

I take a seat and watch, she's really good. Like the 16 year old I mentioned earlier, you can tell when people are really enjoying themselves when they're dancing. Like Naska said in Ivan Vasovo, you cannot lie with dancing. You could clearly tell these people were just having fun, without trying to make a point. Absolute bliss. "She" and I dance again, Bachata, and she tells me that she's an instructor. I tell her I've been looking for an instructor for the past week, and I'm leaving in an hour. Fuc- There's one thing that kind of bothered me about a lot of people in dancing, and it's that they're not having fun... Some people are so uptight about a set of rules that they just can't have fun or let go in the moment. Unfortunately this is incredibly prevalent in the breakdance world - many hold on to these set of rules and traditions...ugh. Not enough freedom. Enough about that rant, so we exchange contact information and I tell her if I get denied at Syria, that I will be back.

On the way towards the hostel, I keep an eye for my three amigos, but they aren't there which kind of disappointed me, I did want to say bye. I go a different route this time and hear some rock music blasting, I see a much older woman in one of those tiny shops dancing all by herself, so I take note and start bangin my head up and down. Rockin.

I get to the hostel, get my bags, tell them bye and not to smoke too much weed - bad move. I hurt someone's feelings. Great. Now I live with guilt and my microfiber towel is still there. I get to the busstop and meet an older woman there, she came back from Sofia, spending the weekend with her friend. Then I see a suitcase...A SUITCASE WITH SEA SHELLS. PICTURE TIME!