After an hour or two of trying to find the Syrian Embassy (in the wrong spot), and after receiving some help from a man who began our conversation - which would somehow get into the topic of the company Herbalife - with "Japan, China, Korea?" I went to an information area in the Sofia University. It turned out that I was about four miles away from the actual location. Afterwards, I went to go take a piss, only to find that the door behind me had been locked (
so that what that noise was...). I started to parade, while screaming at the top of my lungs "HELP ME" and throwing chairs around until someone- I actually protested peacefully, reading my map to formulate my plans, finally figuring out to take the 18 Tram, then make a switch to the 67 bus. I waved someone down, and the same guy who helped me find the embassy with googlemaps - this message is brought to you by GoogleMaps - came out and unlocked the door; victory! I knew where I wanted to go and headed towards the - hey, did I just see a "Salsa Plus Club"?
Finally arriving at the Syrian Embassy, which looked quite amazing, I walked in with a curious mindset of what would happen, only to be greated by a man in a booth...The waiting room looked cool by the way - and for once, I was in a world with only Arabic and Bulgarian; no English texts;
Ooooh.
"Hello"
"
Zdrasti kak ste, Gavoriate-"
"Bulgarski?"
"
Gavoriate Angliaski?"
"Only little"
"
Yes, I'm trying to get a Visa for Syria"
"Citizen of Bulgaria?"
"
No, I was born in the USA"
"Sorry. Only Washington"
"
Don't be sorry. Blagodaria", my heart shed a tear at that point.
The man then interjected with a "Be back shortly" and came back with this rather stunning woman - I was actually hoping that he may have been able to talk to someone to pull some strings, however,this would equally suffice...
To my dismay, he instead handed me three pamphlets to Syria, one in English,
one in Arabic, and one in Spanish - Alright! Just what I had ALWAYS wanted! Damn. No Visa and even worse, no Syrian beauty. At least these pamphlets are pretty.
Yes, this means that I'm probably going to be waiting on the border of Turkey and Syria for seven hours, waiting for Washington and Damaskus to process my passport.
I later walked into a Western Union Money Exchange and was "greeted" by this lady wearing Givenchy glasses - the branding being very apparent on the sides, glistening in the light. You could just tell she was a bitc- her cute coworker was actually nice and smiled.
With my 200 Levas, I ventured back to the area in where I saw "Salsa Plus Club" earlier, only to find it closed. It was 13:40 afterall. What's that on the window, a schedule you say? I think I need to take a photo!
Across from the club was a small coffee shop. I approached it confidently, saying "Zdrasti!" - to the owner, not the actual shop - walked in, and ordered a Late Macchiato. Instead I got a Cappucino because there was no Late Macchiato.
Damn you Sofia! I sat down and the owner came up to me and started talking in Bulgarian until the point where I told him that
"
znaya samo malko Bulgarski, oocha b Germania" (I speak only a little Bulgarian, I study in Germany")
"kannst du Deutsch?" (Can you speak German?)
"
Ja Ich kann Deutsch!"
"Ich habe da fuer vier jahre..."
We ended up talking for about three hours and I learned a few useful phrases in Bulgarian, like "Biszh szhalawl" or alternatively "I would like..." Oooh yeah. Who's a big boy now?
During my adventures I became slightly depressed. The thing is with Sofia, it seems like there are hardly any beggars in comparison to Freiburg, which has about 250,000 people. I don't think that in Sofia, the beggars have a choice - there is no one to give money out, especially during a low traffic season; no tourists. So they have to go forge for food, which is when I saw some people just digging out of the trash bins for food and just eating what they could find. On my way back to Ctsevan's I found this lady with a Northface hat just standing there with her camera, taking photos of this woman holding out a tray for coins...Picture after picture, it was almost as if she was just shooting her with a rifle. Reason I mention Northface is because I have this bias against it, as it is a rather expensive brand to be brandishing, if this lady was a journalist of some type, I might have agreed for her righteous and tubular cause and not become so internally raged, but in this particular manner, it just seemed so...animalistic. "
Okay, just stand still little lady while I take pictures of you!
Say Cheese!"
I walked up and gave the old woman a few coins in Leva, and scurried off trying not to scream obscenities - cause let's face it, she - the photographer - could have been a journalist afterall.
After touting and walking in an angry manner, unleashing my angst on a McDonalds by screaming at it, I managed to get back home.
Cstevan says to me, so innocently
"Aaron. I am sorry. I am poor, I cannot make you food"
"
Okay, that's absolutely fine! I'll go get some food"
"Did you find a place to eat some traditional Bulgarian food?"
"
No I did not, only fast food places (which pissed me off because Bulgaria has some amazing food - thanks to a special someone, this I'm already aware of - there's McDonalds and KFC...but I can't find a local joint in the reaches of walking).
"We will we go sometime somewhere"
"
Sounds good! I'm going to go buy some food to cook"
"I have a headache"
We get along like peas and carrots. He and I can relate...I should have a small entry about him, photo included.
Later we ended up eating some pizza.
I go to the Mall of Sofia, use my newly learned phrases like a kid who just learned how to say dog and from that point on, points at everything and calls it a dog and I cannot help but realize how much the food here costs. Being told about it and actually seeing it are... Two. Completely. Different. Things. For example, a - ouch, I just hit me head on a lamp - a pound of chicken breast costs about ~2,82 Euros; ~3.85 USD.
Now you've got to take into consideration that the average Bulgarian survives off of something like 2 Euros a day. Which has inspired me to buy from the smaller shops. A few cents won't dent me, and they certainly won't dent the big name stores, whereas someone manning a tiny hut selling fruits or drinks could such a small "dent" make a huge impact in whether or not they'll be eating potatoes, using warm water, or even have the opportunity to try an exotic fruit like a kiwi or even mangos.
So at the end of the day, I'm grateful for the fact I even have this opportunity to travel, have an opportunity to not have to be in survival mode all the time and be able to learn something like Salsa or Bulgarian. And the times in which I acted inappropiately in life, whining, crying, and being irrational with my actions were all unnecessary and really just plain stupid and immature. There have been times where I fucked up great things in life - and possibly the best things in life because I wasn't grateful. Times where I never considered that _being able to not be grateful_ IS in fact a luxury and that life could always be worse.
The Bulgarian word for thanks is "Благодария" or alternatively (blah-go-dar-ee-ya). Which brings me to a rather fitting, but cheesy name for this blog...
;)
-Aaron
P.S.
I just ate a whole half liter of Bulgarian Yogurt and have not had any gas - I think I have found the ultimate food.
P.S.S. Make that two - 800g of Yogurt total. Still no stomach problems.
