My First Day in Sofia, Bulgaria

Arriving at the Central Bus Station

I almost felt as if I was at the Denver, Colorado airport

with these white-capped "mountain" roofs

My couchsurfing host Kamilla had given me excellent directions in advance for finding my way from the bus station to her place.  Bulgarians on the tram showed me how to pay and made sure I didn't miss my stop.  When I got to Kamilla's place though, no one answered the bell.  While I had stored most of my luggage, I brought one suitcase into town with enough stuff to get through a couple of days. Hmmm, if she wasn't home, I would need to take my suitcase with me sightseeing that day.  No problem. I could do that. I'm not one to let that slow me down.

A couple of Bulgarian ladies noticed me standing there and asked me what I needed.  When I told them the situation, and that I was ready to go sightseeing, they insisted on walking me the one kilometer or so to what they felt was most important for me to see. I couldn't believe the time they gave me! And I found that friendly attitude all day long.  Bulgarians made me feel incredibly welcome. My sidewalk hostesses said I needed to start with a couple churches.

This giant egg was opposite

the Russian church.

The sign says,

"This is the egg of happiness.

Touch the egg and make a wish."

Church of St. Nicholas the Miracle Maker,

a Russian Orthodox Church,

built on the site of a mosque.

It was started in 1907 to pacify a Russian diplomat

who refused to attend Bulgarian Orthodox services.

I would have just reposted the diplomat somewhere else,

but then, Sofia wouldn't have this gorgeous church today.

The outside has been lovingly restored
by a Russian government

no longer threatened by religion.

The inside,
full of candles
and the damage candle smoke can do,

is much darker and mystical.

 Upon entering the church,

I returned to an intuition I often have

when I encounter Russian culture:

a sense that an American

can never completely understand

"strange Russian soul."

A beautiful side view.

This church was just down the street

from the most visited church in Sofia.

I was glad I had taught myself

how to read and pronounce

the Cyrillic alphabet about 20 years ago.

I could get a sense of what this sign said:

something like Moscow House in Sofia.

The Russian Embassy?

This is the most visited church

in Sofia, Bulgaria:

the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral

built to honor the Russian soldiers who liberated Bulgaria

from the Ottoman Empire.

Gee, no wonder Bulgaria and Russia

have always been so tight.

Beautiful iron scroll work outside the church.

A mosaic of Jesus just outside the front door.

And on the other side of the front door,

a mosaic of St. Sophia and her three daughters:

Faith, Hope, and Charity.

I tagged along with a tour group to listen to a description of the church.  It was very beautiful and I could have enjoyed the church even more if someone had turned the lights on.  The tour guide said that her company had asked the Bulgarians many, many times to light the inside of the church (it has sublime chandeliers waiting to do just that) but the Bulgarians had never been willing to turn on the lights due to the costs.  She said, "tourists would be willing to pay, no problem, just to see it.  That didn't sway the authorities. They weren't going to charge people even one lev to enter a church."

I agree with the tour guide.  It would be as if a Bulgarian had traveled halfway across the world to see the Jefferson and Lincoln monuments and Americans didn't bother to honor their interest by lighting them at night.  I suggest putting the utility costs in the Bulgarian national budget if Bulgaria doesn't want to charge tourists.  Many people only have one day to get a sense of the country - why not make the opportunity to tell the Bulgarian story count?

It was at this church that I learned the single most impressive fact about Bulgarians: during centuries of Ottoman rule, a majority of them resisted conversion and remained Orthodox Christians.  That attests to a level of stubbornness and will that is truly uncommon.  People who can do that, can do anything.

This lion statue

is a part of a memorial

to unknown soldiers

who have fought on behalf of Bulgaria

through the years.

It's fairly recent,

having been put here in the early 1980s.

Next to the cathedral

was the second most ancient church

in Bulgaria: the Hagia Sophia

(in English, St. Sophia's Church)

During Ottoman times,

it had been turned into a mosque

and minarets were added.

I went into St. Sophia's church, and it just so happened a service was in progress.  I slipped into a back seat and listened.  It was magical.  The parishioners were so devout they were standing and carrying flowers.  There were unseen someones, (monks? a choir?) chanting an unbelievably beautiful liturgy.  I could not believe my luck to get to see and hear this. I sat down, not being quite as devout as all those standing, and also worshiping outside of my own Christian tradition so I could beg off as not knowing when to stand, and also being a tourist rolling a suitcase all over Sofia in need of a little rest. Wow, that chant was magnificent!

All of a sudden, the service seemed to be over and the standing parishioners parted.  Many people up front seemed to be crying.  Could they have been that moved by the service? I marveled to myself about Eastern mysticism that I could never quite completely understand.

Then I saw what the parishioners had been standing around with their flowers.  A casket! And a photo of the departed! OMG, I've CRASHED somebody's funeral. I wheeled my suitcase, as quietly as one can wheel a suitcase over cobblestones, back out the front door.

It's one thing to see a church, but this time, in my own boorish fashion, I saw an ancient church in use.  Even with my unexpected need to skedaddle, I felt deeply grateful to have heard and seen what I did. Later a Bulgarian told me that only very important people would get to have their funeral in that church. I licked my wounds in a nearby park before grabbing my suitcase and "rolling on."

My goal was the Happy Bar and Grill, closer to the center, which I remembered from my Prague chaplain's blog as a place he had eaten. As I was heading there, I heard someone behind me call my name. I didn't know a soul in Bulgaria.  I turned around and there was Kamilla, fresh from the doctor's office and the tourist office where she had stopped to get some literature about Bulgaria to share with me. She had recognized me on the street!

Kamilla was an incredibly thoughtful hostess

to have provided all of this literature.

We enjoyed really delicious roasted vegetables

at our outdoor cafe.

When I had made a comment earlier

to a Bulgarian saying I had heard

about the miniskirts at Happy Bar & Grill,

the lady said, 

"Hey, it's a free country!"

Why, yes, yes it is.

  Kind of gave me shivers when she said it.

I loved the contrast of the

Happy Bar & Grill

miniskirts with a

a priest in ancient garb

waiting to cross the street.

After lunch, we went back to Kamilla's apartment and I opened my suitcase to discover I had grabbed the wrong one.  This one was filled with books.  So I had spent my day wheeling a suitcase full of books all over Sofia. Sigh.

I went back to the bus station and traded suitcases.  When the luggage attendant discovered that I could say "thank you" in Russian, she immediately dropped her demand that I pay for the privilege of changing out my suitcases. Man, these Bulgarians and Russians are tight.

I'll continue with my first evening in Bulgaria in my next post.