Welcome to Bulgaria

Down the lane the raspberries are ripe as are the wild strawberries, all red, tiny and seeded. Each is a drop of sugar for my tongue. In the meadow the red-backed shrike is feeding half-grown babies and young chaffinches flutter from ground to tree to bush, learning to fly.

At 6:30 in the morning the world is mine. It belongs to me and the newborn sun just recently crested over evergreen mountain. Gaudy chickadees, yellow-bellied and blue-winged, are noisy in their twittering business while the jays and nutcrackers are loudly proclaiming their right to be king of the tallest pine.

By 7:00 the less-wild world is awake. Dogs are trying to outbark their neighbor’s bark and the mountains echo back the harsh sound. Behind me the slap, slap, slapping of sneakers on gravel announces the first of the morning joggers. The redstarts and crossbills sit on chimneys to watch these Nike-clad bipeds run by, breathing more heavily than normal because of the altitude.

By 7:30 it’s time to put away the sights and thoughts of sky-reaching mountains. It’s time to put jeans and hiking boots aside and dress for breakfast, dress for work. After all I’m not here to be a nature-watching tourist. I’m a Peace Corps trainee and this is my third day on the “job” here in Bulgaria.

It all started last Thursday near Washington, D.C., in a hotel just south of the Pentagon. There we had two days of meeting new friends and fraternization, two days of lectures and class participation, two days of new rules and regulation, two days of fun and motivation, and two days of eagerness and anticipation. And suddenly there we were. We were no longer Peace Corps invitees. We were now Peace Corps trainees, with a nametag to prove it.

Now came the big wait and sit. First we waited in the lobby and then we sat on the bus, 40 miles to the airport. We waited in the hour-long line at the Lufthansa check-in counter and then we sat two hours in the airport waiting area. A cup of Ben and Jerry’s fortified us all and then it was back to another sit, this time eight hours on an overnight flight to Frankfurt. A three-hour layover brought another wait and an Egg McMuffin in the airport golden arches. Another sit put us on another plane. This time it was Frankfurt, Germany, to Sophia, Bulgaria, where miraculously all our luggage arrived on same plane we did. One more sit took us 90 minutes by bus up into the beautiful Rila Mountains to our hotel on the edge of Rila National Park. So with a wait, sit, wait, sit, wait, sit, sit we rolled 21 hours off the clock.

After a traditional Bulgarian welcome of bread, salt and honey, a good night’s sleep to ward off jet lag carried us into our first training sessions. Bulgarian language, community skills training, technical training, health, safety, emergency action plans, and more Bulgarian language have occupied all of us for the last three days. In between sessions we’ve learned to dance several versions of the hora, Bulgarian line dancing done in circles with everyone holding hands.

Now tonight we’ll party with a Bulgarian folkdance group to entertain us and then we’ll dance the hora again.

Tomorrow our stress level goes up. We’ll move out of our sheltered cocoon of the hotel and move in with local host families, many of whom speak no English. Shirley and I will live with separate families but in the same small town. But that is a challenge for another day.

Right now I'll remember my early morning walks through the strawberries and past the ripe raspberries. The first bird on the first morning was a spotted nutcracker, a lifebird, a bird I’ve never seen before in my life. What a good omen it was to have my first bird be a brand new bird. Thirty-five more species have since followed and three more have been life birds.

Now I’ll sleep, my last night in the hotel. Will I dream of quiet lanes with raspberries and chickadees or will it be the wild dancing and music of the hora?

Welcome to Bulgaria!



What a large volume of adventures
may be grasped within this little span of life
by him who interests his heart in everything.

Lawrence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey

Goodbye Old Baldy

Goodbye Old Baldy, I’m a leavin’ you now

It’s here. Thirteen months of applications, references, medical tests, packing, repacking, checking things off lists, and closing up the house have now come down to a final day in Arizona. Of course we’re looking forward to meeting Bulgaria but this is a day for looking backwards as well as towards the future.

It’s time to say goodbye to the javelinas, bobcats, and roadrunners that come to our yard. We’ll miss the cardinals and the oriole that sing in the trees and the quail that nests in our flowerpot. Now we’re leaving, just as the summer rains bring Mexican poppies into bloom and saguaro cactus into full fruit. Of course we’ll be back in 27 months but it’s been nice to enjoy one more full moon on the mountains and once again watch the fury of a desert lightning storm stretched out from horizon to horizon. Our xeric desert landscape has turned a wonderful green.

I just finished my last hike to the summit of Old Baldy. Its 9400’ elevation gives me a panoramic view for 60 miles or more. I’ve climbed that mountain four times this year and 103 times since 2002. By now I know every inch of the eleven mile trail, up and down. I know the bears, rabbits, and squirrels who greet my early morning hikes when I’m usually the first one on the mountain. This week I saw a mother bruin out showing her cub where to find the good grubs and berries. “Hello, Mrs. Bear. That’s a mighty handsome youngster you have.” “Woof,” she said in return.

Tuesday I replaced my old hiking boots and packed a new pair of Lowas for Bulgaria. It’s hard to put aside an old pair of boots. They’re like a comfortable friend. This is now the second pair I’ve retired in my 7 ½ years of hiking 4,000 miles on rocky Arizona trails.

We’re leaving our beloved desert behind. We’re leaving our many furred and feathered acquaintances. But we’re not leaving our friends and family. We’re taking you along! Stay tuned and see what happens next.

Richard & Shirley


What a large volume of adventures
may be grasped within this little span of life
by him who interests his heart in everything.

Lawrence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey

For Tony

Tony, the pottery pachyderm, is named after my good friend Tony Mercurio. This patriotic fellow is politically astute and always votes but he never reveals his political party. However, I did notice that his trunk leans slightly to the right. Tony (16” high) is part of a series of sixteen Pot People that I created in the clay studio in 2005.

Now this July I fondly remember his namesake, Lt. Col. Anthony Mercurio, who died two years ago this month after proudly served a full career in the U.S. Army including a tour in Vietnam. Tony now rests in honored glory in Arlington National Cemetery. Here were my thoughts at his Memorial in 2006.

Like everyone here, I’m proud to say that Tony was a friend of mine. His smile always lit up a room. His jokes were so funny you had to laugh, even though you knew that they were really baaaaaaaad jokes.

Does anyone remember the ice chest that Tony found alongside the highway? He said that he stopped and looked at it because it looked like a brand new chest. He opened up the cooler and found lots of ice and something carefully wrapped in a white cloth. He was curious by now, so he unwrapped and unwrapped and unwrapped the cloth and found a big toe, a severed big toe. Obviously this was a medical emergency, so Tony did the only thing possible. He called for a toe truck! I can still hear Pat Krohn groaning over that one.

Tony and I spent many a pleasant day driving out in the country looking for eagles or checking out a ghost town down on the Mexican border or sneaking up to Mt. Lemmon for pie and ice cream, although it certainly wasn’t on the approved diet for either one of us. But sometimes a man’s just gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Each of us always swore that we wouldn’t tell on the other.

Throughout all of our drives we talked, always we talked. Ours was never a silent friendship. We each shared a passion for history, both the recent and past events that have shaped our country. Tony taught me about Viet Nam from his personal experiences and he shared the broader picture of the political situation of that time. I had spent much of the 1970s in remote national parks, isolated from television and much of the news, so many of Tony’s stories were totally new to me.

In turn I could share with Tony some of my knowledge of the history and biology of our beautiful desert country. Even when we never got out of the car, there was so much to see and learn if we just took the right dirt roads. I showed Tony where I panned for gold in the desert and where to find lush green-pastured hills that stretched as far as we could see and belied the fact that we were in the middle of the Sonoran Desert.

But most frequently Tony and I talked about politics. As you all know, Tony and Lisa were heavily involved in Republican politics in Texas and have retained a strong interest here in Arizona. In fact Lisa will still occasionally let her views be known in letters to the editor in the Green Valley newspaper. I do wish though that she wouldn’t pull her punches and let us know what she really thinks.

Politically, Tony was a proud conservative in the Ronald Reagan mold and through his efforts, and Lisa’s, Tony helped bring about the political change that has redirected our country for the past 30 years. My political convictions were a little different from Tony’s. Dare I mention the ‘L’ word here? To say that Tony and I were on opposite sides of the political fence would be an understatement. We were such opposites that if he and I were building that political fence, Tony would probably be nailing on vertical boards on one side of the fence while I was busy putting up horizontal boards on the other.

But for all of our political differences and all of our political discussions we never had an argument, only discussions. There was never an attempt to prove the other person wrong or to try to change the other person’s opinion. For me it was a wonderful experience to have serious discussions on political topics of the day with someone who had a different viewpoint than mine. I know that I could have done that with a number of people in Green Valley, since we liberals are in such a minority here, but what made the discussions with Tony so special was the fact that neither he nor I ever had to defend our positions. We could each say what we thought about the economy, or the war, or George W., or Bill Clinton and we could each gain an understanding about how someone else might feel differently about these things.

Tony and I disagreed on many of the small details of governing our country but there were many big issues that we agreed on. We both loved America. We both believed in keeping our country safe. We both lamented the super-strong partisanship that has gripped our Congress and our political system today. Both the elephants and the donkeys ought to be made to stand in a corner until they can learn to talk nice and play well with others.

Tony proudly supported the red issues and I proudly supported the blue issues but I have to admit that there was one red issue that we both agreed on..…that bright red cherry pie on Mt. Lemmon…with ice cream of course.

Tony, I miss you. But I’m sure glad I knew you.

Richard

We're headed for Panichishte

It's now exactly one week before we leave for the Peace Corps. We're excited and ready to go. Well, almost ready to go. Our lists are all checked off and the packing has begun, well sort of.

Next Thursday we fly from Tucson to Reagan National Airport in Washington, DC. A short taxi ride across the Potomac River will take us to Arlington, VA, and the Double Tree Hotel for two days of Peace Corps registration and orientation. Then Sunday evening we board Lufthansa Airlines for an overnight flight to Frankfurt, Germany, where a change of planes will send us on our way to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria.

Now we know where our first introduction to Bulgaria will be. From Sofia a bus will take us two hours south to the Rila Mountains. The ski resort of Panichiste (Паничище) will be our training site for four days of language training and an introduction to the country and culture of Bulgaria. As a person who has always found a spiritual home in the mountains, the Rilas will be the perfect place for me to begin a new adventure. I'm sure that the smell of pines and the brisk morning air will get me off to a great Bulgarian start.

The Panichishte resort is 1350 meters (4400 feet) above sea level and lies on the border of Rila National Park near the spa resort village of Separeva Banya and not far from the town of Dupnitsa on highway 1. This is not only a ski resort, but also a recreation center for various sports. Although these pictures show Panichishte in winter, we expect to see green meadows and full-leafed trees. I'll still hoping for cool mountain mornings though. The Peace Corps says bring a fleece jacket for these four nights.

After this quick introduction to Bulgarian language and culture we'll be off on the next phase of our Peace Corps life. On August 1st we'll each gain new Bulgarian relatives and move in with our host families. "Эдравейте. Каэвам се Ричард. Как се каэвате?" Hello. My name is Richard. What is your name?

Richard & Shirley


What a large volume of adventures
may be grasped within this little span of life
by him who interests his heart in everything.

Lawrence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey

The Clock is Ticking Down

Tick, tick, tick, tick, there’s only two weeks to go.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, it’s time to get this show on the road. There’s bags to pack and things to sort. What will we take? What will we leave? Which parts of our life go with us and which stay behind in Arizona? Shirts, shoes, slacks, and socks, yes that’s the easy part. A coat for the snow, a hat for the rain, boots for the trail, and moccasins for indoors, all fill their corners of the suitcase. There’s khakis for Mondays, a suit for Wednesday, Dockers for Friday, and jeans for the weekend but where do I put my friends?

Shirley has a sewing kit, a small umbrella, and a Swiss army knife. She has a new paisley scarf that can turn two outfits into four and tall leather boots that are made for walking. No potholes will get her down. She has clothes to dress for work and clothes to dress for play. Even small earrings and a necklace will find their way into her bag. She has a new scarf for cold winter days that will keep her doubly warm. First because it’s made out of wool and second because it was made by a friend. But where will she put all her other friends?

The Peace Corps says pack light! Keep it down to 100 pounds they say! But who wants to lug a hundred pounds? Not me. In 2000 we traveled around the world for eight months with 30 pounds each in our duffels and five more in our daypacks and felt wonderfully free. I’d love to travel that way again but reality has set in. In 2000 we saw no winter and had no need to pack work clothes. Everything we wore was a soft leafy green or khaki brown as we sought to blend in while we skulked on jungle trails. In Bulgaria we’ll see all seasons and be in cities, towns, and villages as well as on mountain trails. So we’ll take our allotment of two bags each, but 100 pounds? No way!

Some clothes we’ll take. Some clothes we’ll buy as needed. We’re not worried about being clothed. It’s the rest of our life that we’re trying to fit into our suitcases and duffels. I’m a naturalist. I’ll pack binoculars before I pack underwear. And then there are books: field guides to birds, bunnies, bullfrogs, and butterflies. They all get priority. Shirley has her books too. They have to go along and so does music. Our life includes music. For me it’s classical, for Shirley it’s more varied, but for both of us there needs to be music. An MP3 player takes up the smallest amount of room and we shall have music wherever we go. But there is still something missing.

What’s missing are the two ‘F’s, friends and family. We want to have all of you along with us. So here’s what we’ll do. For those of you who can fly to Bulgaria, either by levitation or by credit card, we can offer you our “guest room” when you come for a visit. We’ve packed two sleeping bags and two sleeping pads and we’re certain to have a floor somewhere in our apartment for you. For those of you who are flight-challenged we can still visit with you and show you around Bulgaria because the first thing going in our carryon bag is a laptop computer. It’s our telephone and our mail box.

Somewhere in some fashion we will have access to the internet, maybe in our apartment, maybe in an internet café down the street, or maybe down the road in the next village. It may not be frequent access but we will have access.

You have our email address. If you write us, we will write you. In addition we will try to share Bulgaria and share our Peace Corps experience with you on this blog. Tune us in and see what’s happening. Our blog postings may be sparse at first. The Peace Corps promises to keep us very busy during the first three months of training but after (if) we survive basic training we will try to share with you if you will share with us. That way we can take the most important things (you all) with us on this new adventure.

Welcome to our blog and welcome to Bulgaria.

Richard & Shirley

p.s. For our new friends who haven’t read the tales of earlier adventures I have archived, on this blog, copies of Thirty Pounds and a Passport, the story of the 2000 adventure which celebrated our retirement, and On the Roof of Africa, a story of my climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro, Shirley’s present to me for my 60th birthday.


What a large volume of adventures
may be grasped within this little span of life
by him who interests his heart in everything.

Lawrence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey