My blog - Borislava: 2015

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Friday, 1 May 2015

Sofia, Bulgaria, a Saturday at the end of April, 9 a.m…. Here I am, seated in the hairdresser’s, overlooking the Porter's-Lodge of the smart condos where my highly successful sister lives…Why, damn on, I have been dragged from my bed at 8 a.m., after some 12 hours of a trip and then just 4 hours sleep, in order to have my hair toned and my make-up and manicure done, as if I was going to the Oscars? Probably, because, the first phrase, apart from the welcoming trivialities that my mom pronounced at the airport after I landed from Rome, was: “How you dare walking around with this dreadful look? You should pass by the hairdressers before showing up at my neighborhood….” Not that it was such a surprise that my beloved mother didn’t have a better idea for a conversation after almost one year she hadn’t seen me in person…Or that she didn’t care that, apparently, I am already 40, married with two kids, flying from Madrid just to be with my family for 48 hours, or… that by some chance I just had had a lunch with a young American version of Keanu Reeves, who didn’t find me so repugnant… In vain…Actually, her words sounded quite familiar, even refreshing ...a blast from the past, a renewal of the never-ending, over-demanding perfectionism, which as a red line survives trough the times within the women of my family.

So, the journey started there, with the controversial character of my mother… After 35 years of professional life, most of it teaching chemistry, she retired with 250!!! Euro monthly, “with the compliments” from the unhuman Bulgarian pension system... an amount that actually would’ve not allowed her to live decently, if she doesn’t have other sources of income. However, this does not prevent her to support financially a whole army of beggars, socially excluded individuals and even several gypsy families…Her tactics are quite curious, like regularly buying counterfeits like this hilarious copy of Dolce&Gabbana,

or renting one of her flats at a funny rate or even for free, “in order to help”…. At the same time, she could complain “the service is bad” in a five star hotel and tell she has nothing to put on, looking at her overloaded closet….

It would’ve sounded funny, if actually, during those two days I didn’t have the constant feeling that I was 15 again and my late father would open the door and bring peace and reason among us.

It would’ve been sad to feel so changed, if my visit to the cemetery with the graves of my paternal grandparents didn’t hit me in the face, lost somewhere during the years of studies, travels and numerous attempts to reinvent myself. It was such a shock to realize that I still belong to a place, to a nation, to a community. And as it is true that there are Bulgarians sleeping on the benches of El Parque del Oeste in Madrid, as Mario Vargas LLosa wrote in one of his last essays, it is also true that the most famous museum in the world, the French Louvre, shows exactly these months the treasures of the ancient Bulgarian kingdoms. This land is old, as old as the Greeks and the Romans are. And there is nothing to be ashamed of….On the contrary…Our blood is strong, since we have accepted any foreigner to stay…Our spirit is healthy, because we keep our faith alive and our understanding that there is no bad job, as long as it helps us to survive….

On that day, when I was buying beautiful flowers to my dead ancestors, I realized how lucky I was to belong to a family of honest men and women, who left my karma clean and my head high.

Finally, as if to complete that particular journey to my roots, I met a 94 years old gentleman, once a famous lawyer, who had served as an army officer during the WWII in Karlovo, the native town of my maternal grandfather. He explained me that before each battle he used to take his soldiers to the Monument of Vasil Levski, the Bulgarian hero, the icon of our freedom and identity, who was born in that small historical town. Then, the old gentleman added – “You should be proud and lucky to bear his blood! Levski protects us wherever we go. During the war we knew some of us would be shot, others would survive, but he…will remain forever. As long as we keep him in our hearts, Bulgaria will be alive! And this is the most important!”

In the modern cynical world, cold and almost robotic, when human dramas are just business issue in the news headlines, these words were like a punch in my stomach. The almost physical feeling, the sensation that at least I was alive accompanied me during the lunch with a view to the Vitosha Mountain, during my flight back to the West and even the first day in Madrid, at a conference on the Global Governance…Ironic? Or a sign of the destiny? I don’t know…The only thing I know is that I’d wish that pain in my stomach to remain as long as it could…For my good…

Thursday, 12 March 2015

Peter Lindbergh - Portofino o como hacer arte de una pulicidad

Si todavía nos permitimos soñar, mejor hacerlo con algo bonito...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSoIQUzhESA

Sunday, 1 March 2015

1 Март - Baba Marta

ЧЕСТИТА БАБА МАРТА !

С пожелание за здраве и късмет !

След като накичихме и дърветата в Ню Йорк, значи има надежда да открием, че българското си го носим навсякъде по света....Та дори заразява и другите......

Last year, a Danish friend of mine sent me a photo of Martenitza on a tree in the Central Park, New York ! It seems our lovely Bulgarian tradition is becoming more and more popular, if not world spread !

Saturday, 14 February 2015

San Valentin - revisited

Today I received from my husband something very similar to the image,

and must admit I feel lucky to be loved by the same man after so many years of living together.

However, I have a special message on this very day...For those who expect something and probably will not receive it, for those who have left behind their hopes and for the broken hearts, who hate St Valentine because it turns their pain even more present...

Judging from my vast experience in receiving flowers from infatuated men, everybody would think I have been privileged....Probably it is so, but let me tell you a secret - yes, you'd definitely feel great when you receive your Valentines and notice the long faces of your friends, green of jealousy. However, it actually doesn't change anything...A man could send a bunch of roses even bigger than this one, could accompany it by a card, that would make your hands shaking, could buy you a huge Teddy bear, or even organize a serenade !!!, and then, the very same man could betray you without even a blink...The true love is not in impressive gestures, neither in high declarations, rather in the open and stable heart and in the everyday effort to see the beloved one happy. If not so, why a single day of the year, dedicated to the madness of buying red heart-shaped cushions, candies and roses would make someone unhappy? If your family or friends do really think you are a marvelous person, why being sad just because on this very day, a sleazy guy doesn't tell you lies that would be washed out by the tomorrow rain? Or even worse, if you do really believe for years that someone loves you and suddenly discover that he loves himself better than anybody else? Probably it is anti-romantic or too rational but however, it is a different perspective worth to think about. Life offers us many opportunities for happiness and it is upon us to choose to enjoy them.

Last year, on February 14th, we went to see the Archimboldo's portraits Flora...Two marvelous XVI century paintings illuminated the hall, touching everybody with their timeless beauty. No artificial effects, no commercial tactics, not big slogans. Just art in its pure essence. If this feeling could be compared to the human love, the last would be something unconditional, placid and serene, certain in its fundaments and vigorous in its defense. The ability to penetrate such a feeling is art by itself.

Then, two weeks ago, listening the radio in my car, I heard a man's request for a famous bolero: "Abrazame.." (Hug me)...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OG8of0gnKYQ. He explained on air, that though he was blind, each time he listened the song he used to feel different...And there, alone at a grey stupid parking, this confession filled my eyes with tears...For very few gifted persons, like that blind, mid aged humble man, Valentine's day is every day, as he has the only thing that is actually needed for love - a heart, a real one...

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

Trujillo, Cáceres

When one "googles" "Trujillo", an optional choice appears - Trujillo, Spain or Trujillo, Peru....Apparently, the Peruvian Trujillo was named after the birthplace of its conqueror Francisco Pizarro, i. e. Trujillo, Spain. Even today, the Spanish Trujillo keeps the monument of its prominent son at the Central Square ( Plaza Mayor), surrounded by impressive Renaissance architecture.

Apart from Pizarro, Trujillo is closely related to the history of the Spanish Empire through various noble families, and its numerous historical buildings - palaces, monasteries or ancient commercial offices still breathe the atmosphere of its past glory.

Today, some turned into museums, others - into hotels, most of them live their second life.

The January sun falling on the square and the ancient roofs, unexpectedly adds to the place some serenity

A breakfast with such a view, what else one can ask for...., well, shared with various English toursists, if this could be the only disadvantage....

A determination to return is formed already...

As for the picturesque Trujillo, Peru, where, unfortunately, I have never been - better to leave some things to the chance....

For the time being, I keep my lovely memories from Trujillo, Caceres, Extremadura, Spain and recommend the visit

Sunday, 11 January 2015

Lisboa - Feliz Ano Novo

Siempre me ha gustado la película de Woody Allen "Everybody says ""I love you"".

Al final de la historia toda la familia se va a celebrar la Noche Vieja en París. La fiesta temática de los hermanos Marx es una buena idea, pero lo de la Ciudad de las Luces me parecía un tópico. Así que cogimos el equipaje y nos fuimos a Lisboa. Algo más bohemio y menos glamuroso, pero que, ciertamente, valía la pena. Gente disciplinada, recorrimos la mayoría de los sitios mencionados en las guías turísticas e incluso tuvimos la oportunidad de desviarnos del cliché y disfrutar de la cara menos conocida de una de las ciudades más bellas de Europa.