{Bulgaria} Anxiety and Free Books

Kyle and I are leaving for Bulgaria on Tuesday. We are both excited, of course, but I'm also a tiny bit anxious. We were home around this time last year and in the months that followed our trip, my grandparents have been getting sicker and sicker to the point where everyone has started preparing for death, my dad's business (subcontracting with real estate developers) has been (understandably) doing really bad, and for the first time since coming to the State (1999), I really feel like my life is not there anymore.

That's a strange feeling to acknowledge. Contrary to the experience of many of my friends, I never really wanted to come to the States. Things just sort of happened that way and I ended up following in love (with a man AND with the country). However, I never lost touch with my friends. In fact, my best friends are Bulgarians living in Bulgaria who I met AFTER I moved to the States.

I'm not sure what has triggered the shift. I think it is not unrelated to finally settling down after so many years of nomadic existence. But that's not all. In the past year I have felt more irritated and exasperated with Bulgarian politics, social conservatism and provincialism. THIS has SOME to do with the conversations on my feminist blog but that's not all. It has to do with the pettiness of Bulgarian media, the total lack of vision in governance, the numerous attempts at creating "The Bulgarian X" as opposed to starting something genuine and authentic. I realize that this sounds both vague and pessimistic and probably, makes little sense to those of you who have not visited Bulgaria yet. Those of you who have... please let me know if you feel the same way.

The ONE thing that has actually helped me cope and clear my head about this is Cynthia Phoel's book, Cold Snap. I read it a few months ago while the book was still being edited. Now that it's out, I am packing my copy for our trip. The book is a collection of related short stories set in a small town, not much unlike the one where I grew up, in the mid-1990s. Many of the characters sound and feel like people I know well: hardworking women who manage, nurture and pull entire families forward; men who don't mean harm but end up harming many; eccentric and creative types who anywhere else in the world would be recognized for their free spirit and authenticity but in Bulgaria end up being laughed at and turning to knitting and mushroom-picking for release.

When I first read Cynthia's book, I just loved how brutally honest it was. I was simply smitten by her ability to describe a life both gritty AND tender, patriarchal AND loving, provincial but remarkably touching. In a way, the book really changed the way I think of Bulgaria and triggered a shift in the relationship I have with the stuff that has bothered me the most. That's why I am so excited that our BookClub is reading the book too!

Kyle and I leave for Bulgaria on Tuesday. Before we go, though, I would like to send a courtesy copy of Cold Snap to two How to Marry a Bulgarian readers. I only ask that if you do end up with a copy of the book, you promise to be active in our discussion of it towards the end of July! For a chance at winning a free copy, please leave a comment under this post with your name and email address. This will be a quick contest, since I need to mail the books tomorrow.

Good luck and happy reading.

What do you love about the place where you live right now?

I write so much about Bulgaria and Bulgarians on this blog but, in my gut, that's not really what the blog is ABOUT. I really think of this place as a space dedicated to expatriation, immigration and the meanings and feelings we attach to those experiences.

Yesterday I was chatting with Lucy of PocketCultures about my post on what I like about Bulgaria and we thought it would be a great idea to open up that conversation to a larger audience.

What do you love about the place where you live right now?
If you are an expat, what do you love about your adoptive country?

Here's what Lucy says about Britain:

I'll go first: This poster - keep calm and carry on - sums up one thing I really like about Britain. The dog ate your lunch? Your house just collapsed? The financial system is 30 minutes away from meltdown? Keep calm and get on with your life. The first part of 'carrying on' usually involves making a cup of tea.

Awesome, no?!

Now let us know what you think. Leave a comment here or drop me a note on Twitter. Maybe at the end of the week, Lucy and I can put together a combined list of greatness!

Running into old friends

I am reading Aleksandar Hemon's The Lazarus Project and, not even 50 pages in, I'm loving it. I'm going to share a paragraph to give you an idea why. (The protagonist is a Bosnian immigrant living in Chicago):

It happens to me all the time: I run into people I used to know in my previous, Sarajevo, life. We yelp in surprise; we kiss or slap each other on the back; we exchange basic information and gossip about common acquaintances; we make firm promises about getting together soon or staying in touch. Afterwards, a tide of crushing sadness always overwhelms me, for I instantly recognize that whatever had connected us has now nearly dissolved; we only make gestures, get through the ritual of recognition and pretend it was only through our negligence that we had been parted. The old film of the common past that disintegrates when exposed to the light of a new life.

"Tide of crushing sadness" is exactly IT. No need to be an expat to have experienced it.

Does being an expat give you Dissociative Identity Disorder?

I have two blogs. It's hard to keep two blogs. Scratch that. It's almost IMPOSSIBLE to keep two blogs. I only say "almost" out of respect for people who actually do it quite successfully. Unfortunately, I am not one of them.

I bring this up here not because I feel like I should be apologizing for my absence (although, should you care to know, I was tending to my feminist calling). I only mention this because I feel that as expats/immigrants, etc., we often get pulled in multiple directions, which tends to keep us busy at best, anxious at worst. The Bulgarian* and the expat parts of our brains are at odds; oftentimes, for very sensible reasons. Sometimes, all the tugging... back and forth... starts to wear out our patience.

My two blogs, for example, are a direct representations of my Bulgarian and my expat inner worlds. And currently, I am so warn out of constantly negotiating that both have fallen neglected. We all have our ways of self-medicating and I am dealing by indulging in a short period of un-thoughtfulness. When I encounter a serious thought, I push it away. I know it sounds flippant, but it's what I need right now.

So, tell me, is this something you think about? Do you feel pulled in different directions by your "Bulgarian" and "expat" selves? How do you deal with your various identities? How do you make them co-exist? Have you been able to craft a unified identity for yourself? Do you sometimes feel like you are a character in a novel and the author of your book has decided to give you the gift of dissociative identity disorder?

*Plug in your own nationality here. Recently, I've been lucky to have some new readers, many of them expats, not necessarily with any Bulgaria connections. I am so happy you are here! I've always hoped it goes without saying that this blog is not *really* about Bulgaria or Bulgarians only.I look forward to getting to know you all better!