On my second day in Bulgaria, I went to Vasil Levsky school in Kolarovo to meet Vilma. I taught English in this school in the Peace Corps in 2000 and 2001. Vilma taught English and was my mentor. I forgot that school was still in session but only half days for wrapping up final exams. Some of the teachers were in the staff room; it felt like I had never left. They had flowers for me. Many teachers were new, but there were a few from my Peace Corps days. The directora, or principal, was there; it was her retirement day. She was a bit subdued. I can only imagine what it is like to retire from her job after so many years.
On Vilmas lunch break, we walked around the village center. She showed me two new hotels. I was amazed; it is such a small village. We also walked to the fancy hotel on the outskirts of Kolarovo. Years ago, when I lived here, construction on the hotel was stalled. It was just a shell then, but the forest surrounding it was like a fairy tale with twisted old oaks and a small meandering stream.
This hotel is on the outskirts of Kolarovo. It is situated in a beautiful wooded setting of twisted old oak trees.
When my son Robert came to visit, we daydreamed about finishing it ourselves. The owner finally solved the problems causing the delay, and now it is a place for local people to gather and have a snack or a meal. I was so excited to see it finished; I decided to rent a room for one night.
The school children and staff were already at the hotel, and Vilma explained that the high schoolers were there to celebrate the end of school. She and some other teachers were chaperones. The sun was hot, the pool looked inviting, but there were many noisy children in it, so we just had French fries with feta cheese and visited with the other teachers.
When students were released to go home, I checked into the hotel. Vilma finished up at school and returned with Svetla. We enjoyed dinner and more conversation in the now peaceful surroundings.
I slept well. I planned to swim in the morning, but the swimming pool was in deep shadow. I waited till afternoon when the water was warmer. After school Vilma returned for me. We walked back to her car, parked near the school. On the
way, we passed the house of a friend. Sasha was sitting on the front porch; we stopped for a quick hello. Sashas son was celebrating his thirteenth birthday. We had a piece of birthday cake.
We walked past the school to see a dear friend, Vanetka, and her husband, Assen. She invited us for a late lunch. She is a retired teacher. Because of her hard work, her students became my star pupils at the school. She had prepared a quiche and shopska salade, and cake with syrup. It was nice to visit with old friends.
On the way back to Vilmas we took a little side trip to a small church not far from Petrich. Bulgaria has a long history; there are many old churches to visit. The interiors of most Bulgarian churches are alive with paintings of saints and stories from the bible. The walls are beautiful works of art. Outside the church, there is a garden with a faucet. I bent down to turn it on, but no water came out. Vilma said bottled bought up many of the natural springs in Bulgaria, so we could not take any holy water home
The following morning Svetla picked me up very early to go to Sofia to see her son Ivan and his family. During the drive, Svetla and I talked We only paused when language stumped us. We would look at each other in confusion. One of us would say, Vilma. Then we would laugh. It was our shorthand for Vilma can translate later.
When I taught school in Kolarovo Ivan was only eleven years old. He spoke English fearlessly and taught me about many of the customs of Bulgaria. Now he lives with his family on the outskirts of Sofia. While we shared stories from the last fifteen years, we sat in the yard watching his two young children play with a water hose. Later we drove into downtown Sofia and met one of his twin brothers for a late lunch.
