My Images of SEE – 21:51, Sunday 14th August

Post iced coffee/book reading chill out, we walked to the main square, then on to the department store where Liam thought he saw a currency exchange desk. However there wasn’t one. However, on passing through the Metro station, I spied one there, so we made for that. I changed Leva to the value of €70 – great! We then visited the café we went to yesterday afternoon. We spent 1hr 45 there just reading and surfing the net on our phones and chatting; over water and Schweppes Tangerine. That got us to 6pm. We then walked to a DM store, away from the hostel, and bought toilet roll. The we went to a pharmacy for indigestion tablets for Liam. Then we bought water and beer near the hostel for the train ride.

Upon our return, our bags were in order, and I looked at the Internet while Liam read. We then had a game of pool while the residents ate. I won, naturally. We then asked the girl on the desk about hailing a taxi. She said she would book one for us. So at 19:45 she did and he arrived promptly. She walked us to it too, and gave the Cabbie instructions. For 4 Leva we were whisked to the station for 20:00.

Upon arrival, a man looking slightly like Mario asked if we wanted help. We obliged him and he showed us our carriage, and then our berth. We gave him 4 Leva as a note of thanks. Then he demanded €20. I said we had no money (Leva at least) and showed him my empty wallet. He lingered and repeated ’20 Euro, 20 dollar’. So Liam gave in and gave him €20. He soon f***ed off. Cheeky sod! However, aside from that, the sleeper was a palace! Leather seats, side table, a top/down leather shutter. It was hot though.

We packed our luggage under one side, and then sat down. Our fellow travelers also arrived. They were a Greek pair, father and son. Very nice. We chatted to the son whilst the father cooled down in the corridor. We then had some of our beer once we had departed. The sunset was beautiful. A lovely set of cascading colours from yellow, orange, pink then red. Wonderful. We set up our beds with the sheets the Russian attendant gave us (as the train was destined for Moscow). We relaxed then once the younger Greek lad made for bed, we all did so. But what a luxury this carriage is in comparison to some of the dumps that we have seen.

My Images of SEE – 14:10, Sunday 14th August

So at the hostel we just opted for the free beer, leaving the pasta for tonight. As we sat on a large U-shaped sofa, a young lad from Bristol was sat next to us. He had just finished uni, so wanted to spend as much money as possible before starting his job in September. He was 3 weeks into his 6 week trip. We chatted about where he had been, and where he is going to. He said he’s off south – to Skopje. We gave him our positive opinion of the place. However, the opposite was in store for us when we mentioned Bucharest. ‘Spend one day there’, he said. Thankfully, we are: with that he left, so we went on the PC’s for 20 minutes.

We then walked past our apartment to a restaurant a couple of blocks up that served ‘traditional Bulgarian food’. The venue looked 150 years old architecturally, but was nicely painted red with white features. We entered via a side courtyard, and got taken inside to our table. The interior was homelike but with guns on the walls. I wondered how ‘Bulgarian’ that was. We ordered a bottle of local red, which was lovely, when all of a sudden the House 3-piece band started playing. A drummer, guitarist and & accordion player stood next to a group in a nearby room. Afterwards they played near us, with a familiar tune. It was Careless Whisper by George Michael!

We had a starter of cooked Goat’s Cheese, thin pitta-like bread, Blueberry Jam and roasted ring of apple. It was amazing. Liam then had chicken with asparagus – which turned out to be babycorn. I had mixed meatballs and ‘sausage’, which was lovely and filling. The spices went well with the red wine. It did take a bit of time between courses, but the dessert was amazing – Walnut Cake with ice cream. The bill only 60 Lev - £30! Bargain.

So we left, departing with our bag, and went to the hostel’s bar. It was 7 doors down from the hostel and on the first floor of a tall block. As we walked in only a small group of people were there. The barman gave us our free shot. Something green and strong. Liam had a coke, and me a vodka with ice. For an hour and a half we sat there and chatted, as a large group came in and entertained themselves behind us (we were at a bar running across the window). Then another, smaller group came in. The larger group of mixed nationalities 30 minutes after their arrival, and soon after, so did we. We then slept through the night until 09:00 this morning.

We got our rags on and went over to breakfast a little early. Liam had bread and cheese, I had bread with a lesser known brand of Nutella. I was feeling tender. We then got back to the apartment, wash and changed, then packed. We walked back to the hostel, and I settled the bill. We could leave our baggage under the watchful eye of the receptionist/manager. So we departed then for a second day of exploring.

We walked the route to the main square, the right heading south down bul. Vitosha. This has many western shops on and about halfway down, before the park, we stopped for a coffee. After our break from the sun, we continued to the park. It was a lovely wide park with parallel tree lines on either side of a wide pedestrian boulevard, centred with a series of water pools. As it stretched south, it culminated in fountains. Behind those was a behemoth of a construction. 

The Palace of Culture may make it seem grand, but it looked like a 1970’s hypermall. Behind that was Mt. Vitosha. A lovely view. We walked towards it, then beyond it to ‘lover’s bridge’. But it was a damp squib, so we walked back to the top of the park, and turned left down a main street that took us to the bottom of the shopping street we were on yesterday. 

We walked up this, then back into town where we entered a food place we saw yesterday. We had a fulfilling meal and then walked to the Museum of Natural History. Basically stuffed animals. But it wasted another hour of the day. We then walked the way we came, via a park, so sat there and read for a short while, before going into Costa Coffee across the street. 

My Images of SEE – 17:33, Sat 13th August

Had a lovely night’s sleep, but any dream of a lie-in was rudely disturbed by renovation work occurring downstairs. So we slowly woke up, and I dipped in for a shower. We walked across the road from our apartment to the main inn, where we entered upon a busy common room wrestling with a ‘buffet’ breakfast. I grabbed a seat, whilst Liam went ahead. Upon his return, I then got in line. One sale person was in charge, and things looked like they were running out. So I grabbed a slice of bread, some cheese, Apple juice and a milky tea. We devoured it then left.

Back at the apartment we set about our first round of washing. I washed whilst Liam constructed a Crystal Maze style washing line – involving the windows and a nearby cupboard. He then rinsed and wringed the clothes whilst I did. We then packed and walked back up along the long road to the train station. The buildings went from Mid-1800 imperial, to small 1960 constructs, on to crumbling fronts by the time we approached the station. This was another Communist experiment, yet a recent addition was made at the front in the form of a massive tent.

We went to information, where a local lady in her mid 50’s recited the phrase “International desk” whilst pointing. Following her fingers, we reached our destination. We booked two couchettes in a cabin of 4 all for £16 – bargain! We then departed the station, armed with 2 bottles of water and a Coke, for another main road into the centre. Again, crumbling buildings led to 1960’s ones, that led to older, nicer ones. We reached a square with 5 attractive points.

First was the synagogue, tucked down a side street off the square, behind the second point of interest. It had 4 points rising, and its central, larger point too. We then walked through an old building that contained a modern market. Meats, nuts, fruit, mixed with beauty products & cafes. We then appeared at the square again. We crossed the road to get on to the main part of the square, and then saw the mosque. Very impressive it was too, akin to the one in Skopje. Behind it were the ruins of the old baths. Nearby was a fountain, and behind two old former baths looking opulent. To the left of them, over an adjoining road, were several taps of hot spring water. We bottled a bit of the warm stuff, but decided to pour it away afterwards.

We then walked via the metro (to bypass the roadworks) to the next square that had the Orthodox Church on it, but to the east had the modern Presidency. As we walked past, we peered to our right. In the Presidential courtyard was an old church. We could freely walk in, so we did. It was such a juxtaposition, that church and the modern, neo-classical construct encircling it. We then exited via a different route and saw the old Communist headquarters. A ‘V’ shaped building facing west, it was imposing and impressive. South of it, on a plaza, was an old Orthodox church, now an archaeological museum. So we went in. 

75% of it was early Roman/Greek ruins. Statues, headstones, pots, carvings, coins. All very interesting. 25% was Christian Orthodox frescoes. Liam did ponder whether the building was Greek Orthodox (as the roof was glossed white, but cracks exposed some paintings underneath).We then departed and walked on the southern fork of the road split by the ‘Party HQ’, that took us to the largest Orthodox Church in the Balkans. It had a massive dome of gold, and was adjacent to the Assembly building. 

We then cut down a side street to the main shopping street, stopping for a blended ice coffee on the way. We walked up the shopping street to the main square, where we had lunch and cocktails for an hour, before heading back to our room. After our rest, we went over to the main hostel.

My Images of SEE – 22:57, Fri 12th August

One of my preparations was to exchange currency. With Euro’s for Ljubljana in tow, I decided to trade those in for Dinars now – as I will need them next week at any rate. So I spoke to the lady on reception to change my notes & to pay for the room. Her, and the guy with her, were both very polite. This proved by their help in calling the train station for me, to see if I needed to reserve a seat for the Nis to Sofia train (luckily we didn’t).

I then changed then packed. Liam went ahead, downstairs, to book a taxi to the train station. Whilst downstairs waiting, we could appreciate the views that the hotel boasted of the west of Nis – terracotta roofs flowing down the hill, to a green plain stretching out towards the airport.

Our taxi collected us, and delivered us to our destination for 200 Dinars. I asked a woman at the desk for the platform for the Sofia train. “1 or 3”. Great. So we waited on the platform. After 10 minutes a short train arrived. I asked a more official looking person. He said it wasn’t this one, but it would arrive in 25 minutes (that was its departure time). Anyway, we waited as the crowds grew for the train. 

When it did arrive, the embarkation was scruffy and there was a distinct lack of seats. So we perched in the gangway, forced to stand. However, we were next to an open window which was pleasant. This proved a plus over the first 2 hours of the journey, as the scenery was spectacular. 

Serbia is very green, hilly & mountainous, and dramatic. Its population is also sparse. We chugged along through wide, open valleys, and deep, narrow gorges. All in splendid sunny weather. The train itself was similar to last nights – 2 carriages of seats and one sleeper. It travelled (when it did) at approx 50 mph.

Before we got to the border, some seats came available so we grabbed them. At least we had comfort, although the water situation was looking tense. Anyway, the border control was quick on the Serbian side (unique?) but on the Bulgarian side it was a rather more sedate affair. I think we settled into the notion that we were always going to be late. 

By the time we left the Bulgarian side of the border, we were an hour late. However, the last leg of the journey went like a breeze. Bulgaria was a lot flatter, but agriculture was still dominant here.

We arrived at 19:00 at the dated, yet platformed, station. I got cash, and some liquid, and then we walked to the straight road that would take us to the hostel. At first, it looked grim but as you got further into town it became pleasant, and akin to Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin. After 20 minutes of back breaking walking, we found our location. Sort of. We went down the wrong way of the road, but returned and found our side door. Tucked behind old Soviet constructed façades, we witnessed a quaint old Inn. It was quiet, as it was off the street, but bustling, as there was a hive of activity. We went in and a woman welcomed us. She took our passports and aid to grab the complimentary pasta and beer whilst she sorted our stuff out. After a welcome refreshment, and catching 10 minutes on the wifi, the girl talked us through our accommodation, house rules & the city map.

A lad called Damien, of Sofian heritage but an English-speaking world upbringing, took us across the street to an apartment, which our room was in. It was lovely and big, but the fuchsia walls were garish. Once he left, we left for beers. However, once purchased, we saw a sign for McDonalds. So we followed our hunger the 500 meters to it, and then returned to fill ourselves and relax. A group of Spanish people returned, and offered us a drink. We politely refused, as we were shattered. We then slept.

Thoughts on Gerald Creed's 'Masquerade and Postsocialism: Ritual andCultural Dispossession in Bulgaria'

2014 saw the relaxation of the transition controls that were imposed on Bulgaria after it was accepted into the EU as a mechanism to reduce the number of workers who travelled west seeking employment. Whilst this has been at the forefront of British media and political discourse over the past two months, and with it this notion that large swathes of Bulgarians teeming at the border eager to plant themselves in the UK, this refreshing text enlightens us with the converse notion. Creed returns to the villages of Bulgaria and their remaining residents to observe the annual celebratory events known as kukeri or survakari, and seeks to place them in their new postsocialist, globalised setting.

Kukeri, or mumming as it is known in English, is as striking in its visual display as it is unique in the rituals that it follows in the early months of the New Year. Creed, in his general introductory observations, describes the participants as usually having masks, furs, bells, a staff, and an assortment of other props. A usual celebration lasts a day or two, and starts from the making of the masks or the unpacking of ones from past events. The acts that make up this event consist, in varying order, of a procession, a ritual dance around a fire in an open space in the village, trips to nearby villages or visitors from them to perform together, setting up road blocks for ‘donations’, but all contain a central event – the procession around each of the houses in the village.

Each participant is assigned a different role, and each has their part to play during the proceedings. Even these adhere to village specific protocols. All the participants are traditionally men, their varying roles including the bride, the groom, a priest, an arap or gypsy, a bear and bear tamer, as well as other carnivalesque figures. He describes many visits, ranging from those residents accepting them cheerfully; to those who are obviously not playing the game, to those who lavish food, brandy and paper money or those less able that provide eggs, beans or coins to the guests. Mocking of the people or property through pinching or throwing yard furniture around is to be expected. The perishable booty is then consumed and money counted in the evening. This could be repeated the next day.

What Creed then does is go one to describe in more detail individual rituals but in the context of four themes: Gender and sexuality, civil society and democracy, autonomy and community, and ethnicity and nationalism. On the first, he looks at how gender relations have evolved through socialism and postsocialism, and how the mumming ritual took on or replaced lost symbolic meanings for men as women became more equal. Also, since socialism departed a Western image of homosexuality arrived and began to alter the way in which an all male troupe saw their innocent comradeship, especially centered on the transvestite bride.  Katherine Verdery and Jane Sugarman in their commanding review for the Slavic Review (Vol. 71, No. 1 (SPRING 2012), pp. 135-137) focus on Creed’s analysis of masculinity in this context, and highlight his observation that prior to the transition masculinity was a ‘whole’ and took on many behaviours, but now rested on a continuum whereby being a lesser ‘man’ equates with new ‘feminized’ behaviours. The homogenization of gender and sexuality roles is the consequence of postsocialism. In looking at civil society, he takes umbrage at the West’s perception of what civil society does and what it should look like. Mumming, he argues, has taken on this role, as the state withdrew during the transition, and it either retained or nurtured further relations between villagers and villages. Accepting that civil society can be formal and informal, in its interactions with the state, he sees elements of civil society in mumming that the West tend to ignore because he believes it is seen as a premodern ritual in a supposed modern state (i.e. a representative democracy with a formal civil society); and thus not accepted to be included in such classifications.

In terms of the third theme, he observes the paradoxes of conflict and atomization & community that the rituals express in social relations in the village. On the one hand social relations express conflict – over booty, over who plays what roles, between the performers and the villagers in their homes, or between rival groups. But it also showcases unity – in the face of ‘outsiders’ such as other village troupes, arguments between families actually underscore their unity as a ‘village’ through the autonomy and interdependence of households. Finally, in addressing ethnicity and nationalism, he looks at the character of the gypsy in the mumming ritual along side the inclusion of Roma in the events themselves. Although inclusion was ambivalent with racism still present, mumming allowed Roma to participate because indigenous Roma (according to the villagers) were ‘their’ Roma. However, the threat to inclusion was always from those who returned and never interacted with the Roma on a daily basis, anchored in ethnic Bulgarian feelings of national inferiority. And so Creed ends by mourning the modernizing trends in mumming ritual and appearance, as a result of the transition from socialism and the penetration of Euro-American norms.

Creed’s text does provide a provocative insight into one cultural event that Bulgarian’s enact by weaving it into a polemic on the legacies of socialism, the ‘transition’ and the difficulties of postsocialism for the ‘village’ and villagers. But by describing mumming as ‘modernity in drag’ he does perhaps pine too much for what he sees as a ritual that had better days before it, and perhaps even under socialism. But he does this not from a rose tinted view of the ‘golden age of mumming’, but more as a critique of how Western imaginings, assumptions and concepts have altered the symbolism and meanings the rituals had as they were carried out by the mummers. I would argue though that the cultural value of the ritual must still be worth something if villagers continue to practice it, even if it has ‘modernised’ in its attempt to be more Western. And this chimes with Creed’s pursuit to account for the increase in the practice of mumming. The fact that the celebration takes place owes much to the value it has to the participants and the observers, many who travel home to witness it, despite the overarching postsocialist and neoliberal challenges to it from outside ‘the village’.