Monday, November 18, 2013

Protestant in Bulgaria

My tongue chases the blood of Christ
dripping down my hand,
from His Body, cradled between my fingers.
I miss.

I scribbled those words yesterday after we took communion at the Methodist church in Dobrich. The wine had soaked in the bread faster than I could place it in my mouth. I tried to clean it up without the indignity of licking my hands like a child with melting ice cream. There was no help for it. No one noticed, most likely.


A few pictures of a lovely city near Dobrich and on the Black Sea. It's a different world just a 40 minute bus ride away from where I live. Hard to believe they exist so close by and so independently.

A small cave formed under the Roman Bath House Ruins where someone lives. Sleeping bag, trash, and excrement found

Bulgarian Book Treasures. And poetry.

Thursday, November 07, 2013

Beginning of November Reflection

I leave for Sofia in an hour. One night in Sofia. Then a weekend in the mountains. Then the GRE.

Oh the GRE. I've been studying for a few months. If nothing else, I can say that I'm consistent: the score I started with is the score I'll end with. Almost no change in months of practicing.

The start of November was a good one. I don't know what it is about the turn of October into November but it is a change like the changes of April into May. One season quickly falls into the other with scarce days in between.

November is a yellow month: yellow light fading towards winter white, yellow leaves falling in night time rains.

Dobrich is changing to me. I didn't mind it when I first arrived--it was new. Then, I spent a month wondering how I would establish a life here. Now, 2 months (how impossibly short!) after moving in, its changed into a place I know I can be. This past weekend assured me of it. I spent time with a new friend, was promised a cat "on loan" whenever I want it, learned about volunteer work in the community, and danced. Routine. Order. A comfort and chance for creativity!