This morning, we took the bus from Plovdiv to Veliko Turnovo, where I spent most of the duration of my previous trip (a cultural exchange/mission trip for college students). Now I remember what I liked about this country!

Veliko Turnovo is situated in the Central Balkan region of Bulgaria, about 2/3 of the way east across the country and ¾ of the way north. It is the capital of the second Bulgarian kingdom (think Middle Ages … the Golden Age in Bulgarian history) and there are ruins of old Bulgarian, Turk, and Roman cities all over the place. Most of them were semi-restored in the 1970s by the then-occupying Soviet government, so they are either the original, in the falling down state, or re-built in brick. The town itself is built into the hillsides of the several hills that it encompasses, and the Yantra river runs through the edge of town. Veliko Turnovo isn’t anywhere near as big as Sofia … but as of this visit, it definitely qualifies as a city.

When we stepped off the bus, I couldn’t remember anything I saw around me. That was a bit of a panicked moment! We had a taxi take us to our hotel … the same one where I’d stayed on my first trip to Bulgaria. When we got there, things started to make sense. But this town looks so different! Andrew took a bunch of pictures of me looking dumfounded … I’d expected change, but not nearly this much. The whole city has been whitewashed, built up, and developed for tourists. All this actually makes it a much easier place for westerners like me and Andrew … though considerably less Eastern European. Bulgaria is planning to enter the EU in 2007, and much of this is presumably in preparation for that event. It does take some of the cultural flavor out of the place, but I think most people are better off economically. This is a very good thing … since the average wage is still only about $20,000/person/year with only 2 – 3 people in a household of 3 generations working. My eyes see this differently than others, though. We met a girl who is working in the Peace Corps and her mother, who was visiting her. It’s both of their first time in Bulgaria, and they commented “it’s like the country is 50 years behind the rest of the world! They tried to build a road to take advantage of tourism from the Athens Olympics … and they haven’t finished it yet!”

I’m glad I got to come back to this town and see how it has developed. The places I loved last time I was here have changed a lot. But it’s still a great town to visit. We tromped around the Tsarivitz castle (from the Middle Ages) and quite a few churches, and visited an art museum. It took us 3 days to do this, so you can imagine the slow pace and the high number of parks we just sat in and talked. But something in me feels settled somehow – like it can rest. And that’s good. Especially since I still love Bulgaria, would jump at the chance to learn the language, and would come back in a heartbeat … with a tour or cultural exchange or mission trip or something like that.

OK … I’ve been in Bulgaria before. Really, I have. But I don’t seem to be able to recognize anything. But I only spent an hour in Sofia on that trip (if you don’t count time at the airport) and none at all in Plovdiv. I’m not sure that excuses not recognizing the one church we visited during that one hour in Sofia (the Cathedral of Alexandur Nevsky), even after being in it for a while on the current visit.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’d have decided to come back if the first experience was anything like this one. The first time around, the signs were mostly non-existent or non-trustworthy (and in Cyrillic lettering, to boot) … but the people were nice and very helpful. I think it was the people and the very thorough introduction to Bulgarian culture that I loved. I should also admit at this point that I was traveling with a group on that trip … 12 years ago … and most of the accommodation, food, and transportation logistics were taken care of. MUCH simpler. If I come back to Bulgaria again, or get up the gumption to go to Romania, it will be on a tour or with an exchange group. Unfortunately, this time the easiest thing about getting around was the cab ride from the Sofia airport.

The first half-day we were in Sofia, we decided to reconnoiter our surroundings and make arrangements for a day trip to Rila Monastery (as recommended in the Lonely Planet guide, approximately 30 – 50 Euro and fantastic in my memory). Unfortunately, Sofia is Bulgaria’s capital and, as such, depressingly gray, disorganized, and chaotic. We did finally manage to find a couple tour agencies (no tourist information in the country’s capital … they assume the tourists will all flock to the Black Sea coast). The first two said either “no tours to Rila” or “you can get a private tour in a taxi for 90 Euro per person.” And here I thought Eastern Europe was supposed to be inexpensive!!! Finally, the 3rd agency told us that you can, in fact, take a public bus to the town of Rila where there should be other busses that can take you to the monastery. But the way the timing works, you’ll have about 2 ½ hours to find the bus, get to the (very big!) monastery, explore it, and return to the first bus station to get the last one back to Sofia. AAARGH!!! So much for Rila. We decided to leave Sofia a day early and go to Plovdiv.

The next day in Sofia (only full day) was remarkably better. We saw the Alexandur Nevsky cathedral that I’d forgotten, plus its crypt, which is filled with an exhibit of iconography rather than dead bodies and a couple other churches before collapsing in a café in the park for a couple hours. That had good people watching, too. But not enough to make us want another day there.

Plovdiv .. better than Sofia. The people are more helpful, the streets have trees, there are more parks, and more stands that sell doner kabobs and pizza (very helpful if you want lunch) and they have ruins of an old amphitheatre and other places in the ancient city of Philopolus that you can really explore and touch if you want. But not enough for much more than 2 days, which is as long as we spent there. Oh! Also they have a movie theatre that was playing “Pirates of the Carribean.” We couldn’t resist … especially since it was in English (Bulgarian subtitles).
One other plus about Plovdiv before I end my rant … we had a really fun experience with an older Bulgarian lady who sat down with us on a bench in the park. She spoke nothing we spoke (other than to be able to say “Sprechen Sie Deustch?”) and as we only speak enough Bulgarian to get to a hotel, minimally order a meal, ice cream, and beer … the conversation was stilted. But I’ll remember it for years. We learned that Plovdiv is an expensive place for pensioners to live, that it’s pricey to get married in Bulgaria (she was proud of us for our 3 years of marriage), and that (we think) she has a child who speaks Bulgarian, Russian, French, and English and who lived in New York for 6 years. I’ll remember her and her persistence in the conversation for years!!!

My mum came to see us in Estonia! Yeah! She had wanted to visit the Baltic States for quite some time, so when we asked where on this RTW trip she wanted to come find us, she chose Estonia. I’m glad she did.

Estonia was nothing like I had imagined. It was formerly occupied by the Soviet Union, so I imagined a small country something like Eastern Europe … Slavic, kind of dirty, dark. I was very wrong!!! But pleasantly so. Because Estonia is so far north and so close to Finland, being there is much more reminiscent of Scandinavia than Eastern Europe. At least I think so … I’ve never actually been to Scandinavia (other than in airports, and that doesn’t count). Tallin is clean and bright. Many of the buildings, especially the newer ones in the upper part of Old Town, are painted bright pink, yellow, and green. There are lots of trees and grass. And … since it is very close to the “land of the midnight sun” at this time of year … there is lots and lots of sunlight. I think my favorite thing about being in Estonia (other than seeing my mum) was the long hours of daylight. Even a month after summer solstice, the sun was out from 4:00AM to after 11:00PM. All that sunshine, energy, and vitamin D is a definite plus in my book.

There are, however, mementos of the recent Soviet occupation (Estonia was “freed” in a bloodless, “singing” revolution 12 years ago, in 1994). You can find former KGB headquarter and lookout buildings without searching too much. And many of the apartments where people actually live are the communist-style concrete monstrosities. There is a museum about the 54 ½ years occupation. And when you visit the new KuMu Art Museum (which houses an amazing collection of art by Estonian artists from 1800 or so through present day), much of the art in that 60 year period reflects the country’s mostly negative sentiment toward the Soviet regime.

We spent most of our time in Old Town Tallin … another World Heritage Site on our unofficial World Heritage Site tour of the world. As a side note … we were browsing the web the other day and found that companies actually give World Heritage Site tours, where you go from one Site to the next. Maybe we should start a company? The majority of the Old Town is still looks the way it did in the 13th – 17th centuries, with cobbled streets, a city wall (complete with defensive towers), the old town hall, and restored merchant shops. The reason they’re still there is primarily because the Estonians didn’t have the money to knock them down and rebuild for a long time. Now that they have the money, it’s better to have the old buildings renovated so they can continue as part of the World Heritage package.

We did also see the Song Bowl, a huge amphitheater where Estonians hold a nation-wide song and dance festival every 7 years. This played a big role in their “bloodless revolution” … they sang traditional songs and hymns that had previously been banned by the occupying Soviets.

We also took a tour through Lahemaa National Park, where we saw manor houses that had been built in the 1700s and quite a bit of forest. My primary motivation for going on the tour was the forest … I wanted to see the “nature” Estonia is famous for. As it turns out, people live in National Parks in Estonia and there are whole towns in the area with the protected wildlife status. So it wasn’t quite what I’d imagined … but still gorgeous. It’s by the sea, so kind of like visiting the Olympic Peninsula or the coast of Maine. Only different scenery.

It’s so good to spend time with friends! We spent out time in Holland exploring the country with my college roommate, Laura, her husband, Feike, and their two beautiful little girls. What a treat! Not only did we get to see good friends in a new place (which always helps you see other sides of the people) but we also got to see a new-to-us country with the help of a native (Feike is Dutch).

I can’t overemphasize how much it heightens the travel experience to spend time with people who live in the country. In this case, not only did we get to meet up with Laura and Feike, we also got to stay with Feike’s parents. So our experience of Holland included how houses look and feel, what people really cook, going to a local church, and how families share so much back and forth (cars, camping gear, schedules, etc). All of this in addition to visiting some very fun towns.

Laura and Feike took us to Leide (where Rembrandt was born and where there was a market and a festival celebrating his birth), Palais Het Loo (where their wedding photos were taken and where the Dutch royal family had a country home until recently), and Geithorn (a gorgeous town with canals for streets, affectionately known as the “Venice of Holland” but there’s not nearly as much marble).

All in all, we had a wonderful, relaxing almost 5 days playing with our friends and getting to know their always-growing daughters.

First, I should say that Cape Town is gorgeous. The landscape is green and sweeping, the mountains are majestic, and the sea smells amazing. Go a bit further north (about 15 miles) and you find wine country that looks like Napa and produces delicious wines I could drink every night. The beauty of this place makes it obvious why the Brits and the Dutch would want to colonize it. The stories of sailors and the Cape of Good Hope are inspiring. And the animals … well, South Africa is home to African “Jackass” penguins, the second smallest species of penguin … need I say more when it’s a family favorite animal?

We spent a day touring Soweto and the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg on our way to Tanzania. When we came back to South Africa, we went straight to Cape Town. We spent a week there, enjoying the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront, touring the Cape Peninsula (Cape of Good Hope and Boulder’s Beach with the penguins), taking the cable car up Table Mountain, wine tasting in the Stellenbosch winelands, and visiting Robben Island (the former prison where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were held during the Apartheid regime). The one thing we didn’t get to do was tour a Cape Town township. After touring Soweto, we didn’t have the heart to go to another township, especially a shanty town with considerably worse conditions. Rumor has it, though, that the Cape Town townships give more hope for the future than the ones near Jo’berg despite the more difficult living conditions.

It was a hard country to visit. The Apartheid government has only been out of power for 12 years. The country has come such a long way in that short period of time … but has much, much further to go before it is “out of the woods.” One of the first things people tell you when you reach South Africa … especially Johannesburg, but other cities as well, the warning is just someone less urgent … is “watch out for personal safety at all times.” And they’re not joking – violent crime is not uncommon in this country. The motivation for much of it continues to be extreme poverty.

The majority of our information about culture and living conditions came from tour guides. And, admittedly, most of our tour guides were white males. If I had to guess age, I’d say mid-30 to just retired. The picture they painted of life in South Africa is pretty bleak – considerable crime, government corruption, affirmative action programs that make it difficult for white people to find jobs (and subsequent “flight” of educated white professionals), lack of infrastructure maintenance, and unequal wealth redistribution (money doesn’t reach all the sectors of the population that need it – any redistribution has created a new “black upper class”). The “Coloured” tour guide we had was much more hopeful. He told us of the increased business opportunities, the freedom to live wherever you want (and the fact that doesn’t seem to lead to more violence), more foreign investment in South Africa, more trade exports, and the government taking care of the poor by giving them housing and creating job opportunities. I think the truth is somewhere in the middle, but probably closer to the second portrayal than the first.

Never in my life have I wanted a personal guide to teach me how to live – other than the time we were in South Africa. I’d never traveled to a place where I didn’t know how to feel safe before. And the safety warnings, barbed wire everywhere, many security gates and electric fences, and admonitions not to walk anywhere at night made me feel unsafe. But many people who live here love the country and would not dream of leaving. “This beautiful sunshine – that’s why I could never leave South Africa,” said one girl from Pretoria who was staying in our hostel. And I want to know how to live with those extremes – with simultaneous hope and caution.

We spent the majority of our 48 hour transit time between Phuket and Tanzania in Johannesburg. Before you get the idea that this was a surprise to us, let me say it was planned and we even had a tour booked to fill the most part of the time that would otherwise have been spent in the Johannesburg airport.

We had seen the Apartheid Museum as part of a travel show on TV while we were still in Seattle and thought it looked like an intriguing way to spend an afternoon. We booked the other half of the tour – through the Soweto township – as a way to see a bit more of Johannesburg. I’m not sure entirely what I was expecting … but I know it wasn’t the crash course in South African history and healthy dose of shame and fear that we got.

Soweto, as it turns out, is not nearly as awful-looking as it seems on TV. Never believe what they tell you in the movies, right? I don’t want to discount the fact that the people who lived there when it was first created were moved there forcibly because the government wanted to be able to control the black people and thought they could do that better in a planned “township” outside Johannesburg city that had plumbing, etc. than in a shanty town. But now it looks mostly like suburbia … perhaps more Tukwila than Issaquah, but suburbia nonetheless.

We spent our time in Soweto going through the Hector Petersen museum and Nelson Mandela’s former house (now a museum). For those who aren’t aware – like I wasn’t – Hector Petersen was a very young black student who was killed in riots that started on June 16, 1976. Those riots were among the first violent acts in a series of events that eventually led to the end of Apartheid. The museum in his honor chronicles the events that led up to Apartheid and the riots in which he was killed. The day we went was June 20, 2006 … shortly after the 30 year anniversary of the riots, so there were lots of school children there to learn about what happened when their parents were young.

The house that’s the Nelson Mandela museum is where he and Winnie Mandela brought up their 3 daughters and where he stayed for 11 days after being released from Robben Island (near Cape Town). Apparently, so many people visited him at all hours of the day and night that he had to move elsewhere. It’s a small 4-room house built by the Apartheid government. Honestly, I was too tired to be much impressed or not impressed by it … it just seemed like a small house. Surprising for someone of Mandela’s current international status, but comfortable and livable and probably huge for the time he lived in it, bringing up his girls.

The Apartheid Museum, where we spent the afternoon, is quite something. It chronicles the history of Apartheid from its early roots to the establishment of the new South African constitution in 1994. It’s filled with photos and film strips and lots and lots of plaques to read about what happened when and to whom, who the major players were, etc. I think the most startling thing to me was watching films of Winnie Mandela urging black people to fight (“we don’t have guns … but we have matches, and we have bottles, and we have petrol”) and then of what happened in the black townships after the government established the state of emergency toward the end of Apartheid rule. The government talks about how it’s the only black government to have been established without war … but the beatings in those films sure look like videos of war to me. The other thing about those state of emergency films was watching them with young black South Africans who clearly had no idea of what they were watching.

Highlights of the new South African constitution are displayed at the end of the museum. It includes, among other things, the right not to be discriminated against because of age, race, sex, creed, sexual orientation, etc. as well as the recognition of 9 tribal languages plus Afrikaans and English as official languages. And then our driver talked about how lots of young people don’t even vote anymore … only 12 years after the first democratic elections. I just don’t know what to think….

I had pretty bad culture shock as we drove back from Ngorogoro Crater (just next to the Serengetti) to Arusha at the end of our safari. I know a lot of it was just normal transition from national park/wilderness setting to the city. This happens to me in the States, too. Dirt road becomes paved (there’s a whole discourse that could go here about why the World Bank chose to pave the road to the Serengetti national park rather than between large cities in Tanzania … but I don’t know enough about politics to go there). There are more people and more noise.

And then I have so many thoughts about how little I really know about the people I’m driving past. That happens at home, too, sometimes as close to my house as Broadway … and that’s just 2 blocks! But at home, most of those people and I take a lot of the same things for granted: clean running water, electricity, walls that mostly keep out the cold. And many Tanzanians who live in cities have walls that would keep out most of the cold, probably spotty electricity, and maybe running water … but don’t drink it. Even in Arusha – which is a big city – I saw residents doing laundry and bathing in the river (a naked black man bathing in the middle of a city stream is quite the unexpected site!). Most people in the country, though, live in houses with thin walls, with no running water and no electricity.

I don’t mean to say these things because I pity the people. Tanzanians are obviously proud people. They dress gorgeously, in amazing beautiful, bright colors (the clothes are always clean), are fun to talk to, and work REALLY hard. And the ones we met were really pleased to show us what little bit of their country they could (even if it was the server talking about where they came from and their job). But their lives are so different from mine.

All this musing made me realize that I don’t even have a framework to process most of what I’d seen there. I had this thought in Thailand, too … the way I think about things, what I expect is so rooted in my experiences in America and the mostly western countries I’ve visited and in my education (also western). I’m not sure what it would take to really understand Tanzania, other parts of Africa, or even Thailand … other than lots of time and patience and probably living in the country, too.