An American in Pleven

posted November 8, 2011

A little more than 6,000 miles.

That’s how far from home I am. I’m surrounded by new people, new sights and sounds, new foods, and altogether new experiences. 

Yet I can’t quit blogging about home. 

At first I wondered if my fixation on cultural roots resulted from some perverse sense of homesickness, some resistance to enjoy my life exactly as it is right now. But then I remembered, I am a product of my origin. Home colors everything from the clothes I packed in my suitcase to the stubborn, cultural tunnel vision forever framing my eyes.

It’s not a geography I can quickly resign to a spot on the map. It’s not even a mindset I can recognize and overcome. It’s the very fabric of my being. I couldn’t discard it if I wanted to. 

But just as I can’t help but view Pleven through Aggie-encrusted, Texas-sized, Wildcat-purple goggles, Bulgarians carry their own preconceived ideas, ingrained sensibilities, and influencing backgrounds.

So as much as I will try to appreciate, with as much objectivity as possible, all that Bulgaria offers in the coming months, I must do so through unapologetically Texan eyes.

Maybe this blog can offer a glimpse of the portrait as I see it, verbally paint the colors as they appear to me. Maybe I can add a little “y'all” to the traditional, standoffish Bulgarian growl. 

original post available here.