Here Comes The Bride

Tonight we had steak y’all.

With blue cheese and caramelized onions! Steak! Steaaaaakkkkkk!!!!!

We got it here: The Forum. And It. Was. So. Freakin’. Yummy.

I also had wine. Lots and lots so I am a little tipsy at the present moment. Okay. Maybe a LOT tipsy.

But I digress.

The other day I wanted to know from where the tradition of the bride throwing the bouquet originated, and boy did Yahoo! Answers come through. Why did I want to know this?

I will tell you in a minute.

As it turns out, it really is a hell of a lot longer explanation than I anticipated and quite frankly I found myself getting distracted after the first few paragraphs (probably related to all of the wine?), but evidently it has something to do with 14th century folks ripping the clothing off of brides for good luck. Interesting, no?

Anyway, this past weekend Yana, Ryan’s coworker, got married and Ryan and I were invited. Bulgarian weddings are actually really, really cool and we had a blast. There was a ceremony via the municipality in the center of town that involved, among other things, a charming piano compilation of the “Wedding March”, “Everything I Do I Do It For You” and “Chariots of Fire”. We presented flowers to the now legally married couple and pretended we understood what was going on.

There was also a spectacularly gorgeous religious ceremony that reminded me of the myriad Greek weddings I went to when I was young and made me get all creative and stuff with the camera and want to cry except I thought I would look stupid so I didn’t. We took pictures of the now religiously married couple and pretended we understood what was going on.

And then we went to the reception. Which was amazing. Throughout which we danced, and ate, and pretended we understood what was going on.

When we arrived, there were salads and salami/cheese plates on our tables with jumbo bottles of vodka and homemade rakia (a really potent Bulgarian brandy that tastes sort of like rubbing alcohol but possibly stronger). I promptly devoured all of the salami and looked around for more. It was seriously good salami. I shouldn't have worried because later we got beer and grilled meat followed by wine and caramel torte... all yummy stuff. But the salami remained my favorite.

Bulgarian weddings typically involve a lot of tradition and this one was no different. As Yana and Nicolai entered the reception hall, a man and woman (performers dressed in traditional Bulgarian attire) performed a dance involving a white sheet and brilliant red petals to line the walking path of the new bride and groom. Yana and Nicolai (along with the Maid of Honor and Best Man) made a champagne toast to the newly married couple's happiness, and then threw the glasses over their shoulders.

It kind of surprised us too. But it was cool.

They also played tug o’ war with some sesame bread drizzled in honey. This tradition states that whoever gets the largest piece will then have the bigger role in the new family. (Although Nicolai snagged the proverbial lion's share of cake, Yana’s pretty feisty and I suspect she might have something to say about this.) There was lots of toasting and shouting of “Gorchivo”. This literally means "bitter" and is the equivalent of dinging your spoon against a glass to get the bride and groom to kiss)...

...and of course there was some horo-ing. And – oh - did Ryan and I horo! Once. We did the easy one. I’m not sure, but I do believe we made quite an impression since the DJ said "Мяваонтяо ьвнтяасхе явасносьсхъл ьавосадьоах яаоявнхяасе ьяавонхъсехвь ъхьвасехжв ьхъньасодге хх жявяаосе хвяаоскесхънх RYAN EE MEAGAN!!!” (Translation: "Bulgarian I don’t understand…. Bulgarian I don’t understand… Bulgarian I still don’t freakin’ understand… RYAN AND MEAGAN!!!")

We didn’t horo too much after that as most of them were much too confusing and it was more fun to watch than break our ankles or fall on the ground or something. But we did dance to some slow songs and get our groove on to some fast ones. And we were good, so nyah! But these gals were better.

There were some other things we didn’t quite understand (and believe me I’ve done some research and haven’t been able to figure it out). Like when the Maid of Honor (MOH) and Best Man (BM) sat in chairs as the perofrmers held out cakes, dancing in an attempt to entice them. When the MOH and BM joined in the festivities they placed money on top of the cakes trying to charm the professional dancers into giving them the treats. Even though I didn't "get it", I thoroughly enjoyed this part of the reception because it was just neat.

But the best part of the evening was when I caught the bouquet.

I need to preface this with I have always loathed this tradition. I freely admit this is mostly because I have never, ever caught the bouquet before. I am a bitter old maid. It is true. So this time when all of the single chickies lined up, I honestly figured I’d wind up in pretty much the same sad flower-less state. And I thought I didn't care.

But this time the bouquet came flying our way and I kind of raised my arms, prepared to make some sort of a half-hearted attempt at catching it.... annnnddd it.....landed on the floor.

People, I threw myself on top of it. Seriously. And then I snatched it up and sort of waved it in the air. And trembled a lot and almost cried like I had just won American Idol. (Which, I must say with their whole "America Gives Back" really did make me cry buckets last night. I am officially a FREAK.)

So I caught the bouquet. And Ryan caught the garter. And they took lots of pictures of us and said our names a few times and a lot of other Bulgarian stuff. And some little girl tried to get me to give her the flowers. She was really cute and at first I didn’t understand her. But once I did I pretended I totally didn’t because, bitch, those flowers were MINE!!! All MINE!!!

(She really was a cute little girl, though, and I felt bad afterwards... But not that bad.)

So it was fun. And since Ryan and I have pretty much decided we are getting married (maybe two years down the road... not, like, tomorrow Mom - sorry!), it gave me free reign to get all giddy about this for all of one evening. That was fun for awhile, but I think I started to freak Ryan out a little bit.

Now instead of obsessing about menu items and bridal parties (because, um, premature much??), I am reading awesome blogs like this one: Amalah: The Queen of Everything and spending some time trying to convince my old roommate Laura I am not too skinny. Okay, so this picture does make me look as though I have freakishly thin arms.

But really, I am not as skinny as it appears. We eat plenty (did you see the part about the steaaakkkkk!!!!)?? We run regularly. And THIS is a picture we took the weekend before last at the Shipka Pass. Here you can see that even though we walked up 1000 flippin’ steps, I still have my curves and my booty and all. See, Laura? I love you for caring about me, though! And - hi! - I miss you! So much! And everyone else back home too!

Here are some more pictures of Shipka Pass and Shipka, ‘cause they are pretty.

Peace Out. It is past my bedtime.

The Turtle Hunter

I have a confession to make.

I have a soft spot for turtles.

This is particularly problematic for me because I used to live in Florida. There it seems turtles are of the opinion that it is perennially safe to cross major highways at Absolute Minimum Tortoise Speed. Of course this is usually not the case. You see, as I’ve already explained, Florida roadways are virtually teeming with 99-year old blind nuns, tourists who firmly believe it’s okay to drive backwards at 75 miles an hour on I-4 because they missed their exit… and... well….me. So the combination of both stupid turtles and nut-job drivers proved troublesome for me because whenever my eyes inadvertently zoomed in on one of my half-shell buddies in peril, I would inevitably feel the immediate need to launch myself like some sort of crazed PETA person from my vehicle in order to rescue them from certain death.

Naturally this sometimes this entailed me slamming on the brakes and veering off onto the side of the road to divert them to a much safer locale. On other occasions it resulted in me making slight errors in judgment like the time I made a U-turn to save my valiant turtle friend and realized it was, instead, an armadillo. As much as I wanted to help that little guy out too, I left him sniffing around on the side of the highway. I had heard that armadillos jump when frightened and quite frankly that would have sent me shrieking into the middle of the road myself, effectively thwarting all future turtle rescues. Plus, can armadillos get rabies? I think so, people, I think so… Truth be told, though, while I definitely practice caution and avoid things like frothing raccoons or ginormous snakes, my heart is big enough for virtually the entire Animal Kingdom (except most members of the arthropod community) and I have paused to offer a free ride (and a sometimes a meal or two) to anything from dogs to frogs to ducks.

Which is why I was so delighted by the Sunday afternoon I spent at the Green Balkans the weekend before last. Ryan’s friend Mindy had come to town on Saturday, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves rocking out to live music courtesy of a cover band at Club Jam that first night.

Despite the musical entertainment, however, I was already fairly preoccupied with our upcoming adventure. You should first know, Зелени Балкани (a.k.a. Green Balkans) focuses on nature conservation and restoration of habitats. And although I wouldn't necessarily qualify myself as a "tree hugger" 'cause I still prefer plastic over paper... I try to do my part and Green Balkans' mission is definitely a cause I can get fully behind. However, I was mostly excited because this organization primarily focuses on rescuing and rehabilitating injured birds of prey. A month or so ago while in Plovdiv, Ryan and I had gone into raptures over a tiny hummingbird no bigger than my thumb that flitted about a bush rather unexpectedly (we actually thought it was a bumble bee at first)… so I was quite thrilled to visit with its much larger brothers and sisters up close.

And I was not disappointed! We saw owls and storks and baby chickens and falcons and some really flippin’ big, hungry, demanding pelicans. We watched Christine feed a friendly but exceedingly noisy honey buzzard that I wanted initially to take home as a pet, but after a few minutes determined it adorable, but decidedly detrimental to both hearing and sanity. (If you watch the YouTube video below, you just might have an idea why.)

I even got to hold a turtle or two. All in all, it was a thrilling day… made more so when Shane (shades of the Crocodile Hunter... that is to say, bravely but gently, kindly and not in a manner that could at all hurt the bird) wrestled a huge golden eagle out of its cage so Christine could give it an injection of antibiotics. (Ryan should eventually post this exciting yet elegant display of Man versus Beast on his blog, found here: Ryan in Bulgaria.)

The past couple of weeks, although not typically of the “Animal Planet” variety, have been fun nonetheless. Last weekend for Easter, Ryan and I visited his friend and fellow PCV Tracy in Zlataritsa, a small town a few hours north of here. On our way to Veliko Turnovo, our transfer point to Tracy’s town, we found ourselves talking to Nicolai, a 14-year old boy who wanted to practice his English with us. Understand that Bulgaria is a relatively safe country and you will often see people leaving their babies and small children alone in their strollers outside on the sidewalk while they shop. (To try and be fair, these magazines are generally small and the children’s mothers are likely able to keep an eye on them as they pick up their milk, eggs or what have you.) It is also a country comprised of many friendly people, so it only surprised us a little when Nicolai offered his phone number to us and asked for Ryan’s e-mail. (I don’t have to tell you, I’m sure, that in the States this probably wouldn’t happen… at least not in the larger cities. No, in DC or Orlando or most urban places an older man exchanging contact information with a young boy would, at the very least, raise a few eyebrows. But we’re in Bulgaria now, so his mom beamed happily and wound up taking a picture of us with her two sons.)

Then Nicolai made my morning. He whispered something to his mom and returned to our side to present us carefully with two bright red Easter eggs. Now I was raised Greek Orthodox which is very similar to Bulgarian Orthodox. Growing up I didn’t know that not everyone ate Easter Bread with a red Easter egg in the center or engaged in the time-honored tradition whereby family members take turns smashing the ends of their eggs together until the person with the un-blemished egg is pronounced as having a year of good luck. Since they do that here too I was elated by the gift and gently held them in my hands for a few minutes, before gingerly placing them in my coat pocket for "safe-keeping".

We won’t talk about the part where I promptly forgot about them upon our arrival at the bus station, gaily flinging my coat on the bench, which I then immediately opted to exuberantly use as a seat cushion. Whoops!

At any rate, Zlataritsa is absolutely beautiful and aside from my first migraine in months that laid me flat for a few hours, I really enjoyed the trip. Although, given the predominant theme of my photos you'd think I'd never seen a damn horse before. My mom will like them, though!

Hi Mom!

I am truly chagrined that due to said headache I missed out on the Midnight Easter Vigil. The ceremony is extraordinarily beautiful and, again, very similar to the Greek Orthodox observance of the holiday. Starting at 11 PM, while Ryan and I napped, Sarah, Tracy, Maggie and Katie stood inside the church with the rest of the village, holding unlit candles. The priest lights the first few candles and as he and the rest of congregation begin sharing their flames with one another, the church slowly grows brighter and brighter. Once the ceremony is over at midnight, tradition states everyone departs the church en masse and sets out for their respective dwellings with the hope that their candles remain lit until they arrive home. While I am sad I missed this, fortunately Sarah took some breathtaking pictures.

This weekend, Ryan and I are taking a bus to Kazanluk and onto Shipka, a small mountain town with a beautiful monastery. And at the end of the month we’re hoping to head out to the Black Sea Coast for some of that proverbial R & R (not that I’m not getting tons of that right now!)

In other traveling news, next month Ryan and two of his friends from the States (Scott and Anna) will be joining us for some “nomad-ing” around Europe. We plan on going to Istanbul and Prague for sure, but are still debating the rest of our destinations. It’s looking like Thessaloniki will be one of them for the purposes of getting my visa... and Ryan is lobbying hard for Amsterdam (Never having been, I'm firmly on board for this one, too.) Perhaps Bucharest? Maybe Budapest? Who knows?

Crap. I just realized I totally forgot to write about our football-fabulous weekend Chirpan three weeks ago. Teach me to be lazy about updating my blog. Oh well. This is getting just a bit too longwinded to go into detail, but I did take some pictures (showcased below) and Ryan has a nice recap on his blog. Pay his site a visit!

'Til next time, folks.