| Dear Family and Friends, Let me tell you about a typical walk to and/or from school here in Bulgaria . . . I start down the stairs in the house every morning after saying, "Dovizhdane" to my host parents and I stop at where all of the shoes are lined up in rows at the door. Houses are built up high with balconies and are usually one floor, but you have to climb up or down many steps to actually get into or out of the house. Usually, houses will have a lower apartment in which Babas and Dy-ados live in once they are older and desire to live with their children. We have an small apartment below our house, yet it is not lived in yet. So, in the mornings, I make my way down the stairs, out the door, and continue on my way to school along the worn cobblestone streets. As I walk, I may step over piles of hay, tattered cats and pathetic dogs, and large ruts in the road. I watch as an old man walks his goats through the street, gently nudging them with a long staff to keep them moving on their morning walk. I can usually hear a chorus of roosters welcoming the morning sun and I smell the sweet blooming flowers and plants all around me. Every now and then, I dodge compact European cars as they fly past, too determined to stop for frightened pedestrians. In the afternoon, after a long day of learning language and experiencing Bulgaria, I make my way home to continue to speak a new, strange diallect. I might call, "Zdravete!" to the old Babas who chat on the side of the road and stare at me as I go past and I watch as many men work dilligently in their garages on their old cars or load piles of hay into large wooden carts. I listen to children playing in the streets, who will most likely play hard until very late at night in their safe, comfortable neighborhood. I pass several children who meet me daily on my walk home to giggle at my Bulgarian words and I laugh with them as I practice the language that I had just spent hours learning. I approach my Kushtah (house) and brace for another round of learning Bulgarian as I notice children riding old bicycles and playing European Futbol (soccer) in the streets. I am greeted by my host brother who calls to me from his bike and my host sister who runs to me with a big hug and a smile. I greet them eagerly, before entering the gate, removing my shoes at the door, and entering the house to greet my host parents. As I climb each stare and think of what God has blessed me with, I ponder how thankful I am for Bulgaria and I remember why I am here and what I have yet to accomplish. I would give anything for each of you to see the Bulgaria that I am so blessed to see and experience every single day. Yes, this is Bulgaria, this is my home and my life for the next two years . . . this is what I will truly come to know, appreciate, and cherish. I Love You All! Chantel |
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