Monday, 27 January 2014


Snyag; snow in Bulgarian!

Exactly one week ago we were eating ice cream in Vitosha Blvd and didn't believe it when Boryana told us that it would be snowing soon. All for the better: the surprise was bigger!

Vicente and I thought that Maria and Zanda would have had enough snow for a lifetime, them being from northern countries and all, but then we realised that that would be like saying that we Mediterranean types have grown bored of our beautiful beaches, after so many summers of enjoying the sea and lying in the sun!

One of the things I like the best about snow is how everything is equalised under its blanket; the paths in the park disappear and the roads have to be cleaned if civilization is to keep doing its thing.Walking in the streets next to our apartment before the snow bulldozers -or whatever their names are- had really gone to work was quite a feeling; this whiteness that literally freezes reality visible, overwhelming, in all directions, including above and below.

I almost didn't go out for my usual run because of the snow but my sense of duty prevailed in the end and it was a good decision (Vicente remarked that I was very disciplined!) The biggest park near our flat where I usually go to when I don't want to go too far - Sveta Troitsa - gave me an opportunity to witness how, indeed, regardless of how many times you see snow in your life, every time is almost like the first.

"Gay" some things never change, no matter
in which part of the world you are!

Sofians went to Sveta Troitsa Park to enjoy
the snow with their children.

I miss my sled...

Is an invisible path still a path?

My hands were trembling too much in the cold outside
of the warmth of the gloves for this picture to be any good.
Snow never stays around as much as I'd like it to, however, and today the white stuff of happiness started melting under the winter sun, although it was still the coldest day we've been here by far! By this morning all of the roads were already full of the dirty slush that the snow leaves behind and makes it unpopular to those who see a lot of it every winter. In light of this, our mentor Boris told us of a Bulgarian poet, Smirnenski was his name if I recall correctly, who made the parallel in one of his works between the urbanisation of Bulgaria -the rural families moving to the city to find work- and how the pure, innocent snow quickly becomes dirty in the city streets... I would love to find this poem and post it here actually.

Fortunately we heard that there's going to be more snow coming in just a few days; the circle of rural innocence which turns to dirty urbanisation will not stop turning! What would the macroscopic, social equivalent of the dirty slush finally evaporating and returning to the sky be, though?

No comments:

Post a Comment