Being Ill in Bulgaria

Seeing people of my own age around me draws me to compare health. Of course you can't tell how healthy a person is just by looking at them. however you can see how they walk, posture and general body language to give you clues to their wellbeing. One of my great pastime is people watching anyway so when my focus is on someone akin to my age there is bound to be comparisons with myself.

We all have been ill at some point and now it was my turn for a change. Pain is something I can bear when I am in control such as pushing myself physically on my bike or cycling, but pain caused by illness is at the very least an intolerable scenario.

As you get older you put up with aches and pains, it grows upon you gradually that is acceptable it is a message reminding you you're getting older and can't run around like a spring chicken anymore. That doesn't mean you become stagnant, just more careful with excursions for example proper warming up and warming down before and after exercising or thinking first before running for a bus or picking up that heavy box. It took some painful experiences to come to terms with that way.

Well now back in Bulgaria and putting up with a painful left hand for months, which I put down to a history of tension initially taking up the viola after puberty, (long story). Then working in Bulgaria full time in a boiler factory in Bulgaria back in 2007, basically with an active drill in my hand 8 hours a day (I'm left handed). The latter did the most damage. I started up the piano again for a least and hour a day a few months ago and the left hand was giving me problems with tension and stress which gradually got worse, but I persevered. Perhaps I should have read the signs and given it a break. On top of this my cycling requires hours on end of grip on the handlebars, which doesn't do the wrist any favours especially when the weather turned a little damper and colder. So come the end of November it wasn't very comfortable at all.

The Barrels That Did The Damage

27th November arrived and it was the evening before Rakia Making Day. I had to help get two big barrels full of fermented wine out of my garage and onto a van. It was a cold evening pouring with rain and I had been waiting for half an hour for the van to arrive on the street in these condition. A cold man with no head cover or gloves and soaked through with the thought of rakia making motivating him. The van duly arrived and as I began to lift the first barrel my left wrist cracked under the strain accompanied with a sharp dagger like pain. I worked through the pain on the second barrel and struggled with four heavy sacks of wood. That was it I thought, give it a rest overnight and will be fine in the morning. That evening I took a couple of paracetamol and an early night to bed for a 5:30 rise in the morning and very excited for the Rakia Making Day ahead.

The following morning on waking up before the alarm, I should have gone to the Doctor, but with the excitement and adrenalin of Rakia making in front of me I pushed through the pain and got through the process one-handed, including the driving to the village. It didn't end there, the pain was becoming very close to intolerable now and apples had to be peeling and cut to add to the fresh rakia crying out for them. Galia insisted she should do it but being the fool I am for some reason I have a compulsion for self-suffering and a steeped history for working through pain just for the hell of the challenge. The apples were duly albeit painfully prepared and my left wrist was now transformed into constant pain rather than intermittent with movement. Something quite wrong there now I thought. Still I will rest it overnight and tomorrow with no plans to do anything. It will be fine.

Bed at 11:00 and the pain now was constant increasing to the degree I couldn't sleep no matter what position my hand was in. By 02:30 I was at the end of my tether end and in tears with pain. The wrist was compressed by wrapping in a pair of socks around it to support, but that made no difference. The agony now was completely out of my control and that's where the decision was made to visit the hospital. But I was feeling light-headed and dizzy almost to the point of passing, so I reluctantly had to wake Galia who was in a deep sleep next to me for assistance.

A&E My First Hospital Call 2:30 am

A taxi was called and we arrived at the local hospital some 10 minutes later. I was seen immediately and examined thoroughly by a team of at least four Doctors in attendance with three nurses in turn. I was laid down on a bed and put on a drip for three hours. I was shaking from cold and nerves as they mentioned that I might be suffering from a stroke!! Bloody Hell was my reaction to that, after all the fitness I do and this? Can't be! I was left to ponder that for quite some time. During this time I was distracted by an argument right by the side of the bed I was lying on with a Gypsy Mother and Daughter demanding a prescription off the Doctor. The argument lasted ages and was very heated in the end they were ordered out of the treatment rooms and had to wait until the day shift started to be served. I found out that this was common that Gypsies often come at night with a free taxi service and free treatment and drugs just because they are treated differently to Bulgarians. they take advantage of this and when given the free drugs sell them on for 100% profit. We (or should I say Bulgarians) have to pay for taxis, medical treatment and prescriptions!) This incident however didn't detract me too much with the pain I was in and the shaking continued.

Second Hospital for X-Ray

5:00 in the morning and it was a transfer to another hospital, (with a taxi we paid for!) for an x-ray. This hospital was where Galia's Nephew works who I cycle with on occasion. We turned up and an x-ray was made within 10 minutes. Then it was another hospital for an examination from another specialist with addition tests to be made. Another taxi taken and now the third hospital in the space of 12 hours.

Third Call Yambol's Polyclinic

Whilst waiting to be seen, there were six other parties there all with the same appointment time of 16:30 to see one Doctor. How was that? I was examined and told that there was no stroke but probably just an infection and further blood tests would be taken early tomorrow morning. I was given a prescription two series of injections, (hate those!) one set of tablets, and a powder compound to be mixed with water and drunk. All this cost money including the visits and Doctors seen with tomorrow the promise of more costs. No avoiding this unless you are a Gypsy apparently. Doesn't matter that I'm British and paid National Insurance throughout my working life not that I expect any special treatment as a Brit. 

Current Medication!

Another night but this time I slept well after a bout of two injections one on each cheek and other prescribed medicine. I  was told no food or drink in the morning prior to the planned hospital tests and duly adhered to instructions turning up with a rumbling stomach. 

Fees paid for blood and urine specimen test although only blood was taken even though we paid for both. the queuing system here is absolute chaos and only though who have no scruples about running up to the treatment room get seen first. A classic case seen here where an overweight man crawled up the corridor as if it was his last walk on earth, then once the surgery door open he was an Olympic Athlete sprinted to the door and getting in before those who had been waiting for their turn. I find it strange that no one complains. I have been told to just keep quite in these situations as many Bulgarians are prejudice on finding out I'm English in confrontational situations. This advice has kept me out of trouble for years even though it is difficult not to express an opinion seeing what goes on..

The blood test was good, all normal, a relief and it was now time to continue with the given drugs and become a passive person for a week. No fitness, no piano, no work on repairs or rebuilding my bike and no driving. Difficult!

The Cost!

I'm feeling a lot better now, but am reminded again about how old I am and how I should behave. The total cost of this episode amounted to over 100 BG Lev. You just can't afford to be ill here without private health insurance which is something I cam considering right now. But will it get overlooked and on the backburner when I am fit again? Probably......That's what the vast majority of people do here in Bulgaria anyway, take it as it comes, they just don't have disposable income for a, What if?', scenario on health.

So now when I people watch and see individuals my age and compare health, I know that at any point in time health can change without warning, that doesn't stop you trying to look after yourself though to reduced the risk factor which I will continue to do. Beside I feel that investment in fitness is cheaper than investment in health insurance which I can 'Ill afford,' on my small pension here.

Why Move To Bulgaria? - World Blog Surf Day

It is World Blog Surf Day today (28th March) and Golden Prague has organised just that. A series of blogs written by expatriates especially for this special day. Essentially a world surfing tour from many expat bloggers telling why they are where they are.

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Why did I become an expatriate in Bulgaria? This is often a question asked and not an easy explanation either. There are so many reasons that this happened, but the main reason was perhaps running away from a previous life that had made me ill. It has taken some time to work out that answer and many other expatriates if they are honest with themselves will own up to that fact.

To know what I see and have now found in Bulgaria you really need to know the yearnings of the past so forgive a little history into why I live in Bulgaria

Every since I was a kid aged 6 or 7 years old I'd see a hill in the distance and I wanted to go to that hill. Later as a teenager in London the 70's, green living got a hold of me and the combination of wanting to be somewhere else and self-sufficiency was a pipe dream.

It wasn't until I was 46 that the opportunity came to pass. Owning and working a smallholding I thought was an impossible dream. England was too expensive, then Wales and Scotland became beyond my means and finally France, which was affordable during the 80's and early 90's was left too late and we were priced out there as well.

It was now 2004 and eBay was being surfed, a house was being auctioned and there was only 8 hours to go, and the price was under £2000 with no reserve. I thought it was a scam or a joke and followed the auction through. The house with land was sold for just over £2000! I didn't believe it, but did after I looked into other property in Bulgaria going for roughly the same value It was quite a revelation and an affordable opportunity that I thought had hit a brick wall.

Within 3 months of seeing this site I had done masses of research on Bulgaria, visited it and actually bought a farm smallholding online! Within 6 months of viewing that auction and indeed knowing where Bulgaria was, eBay I escaped the financial and rat raced rut that I was was living in the UK and was living as an expatriate there. It wasn't panic or a mid-life crisis, but a sudden realisation that Bulgaria and me just clicked.

Now there are many things I regret in life, many based on not acting quickly enough, but moving here was the best solution for me and my lifetime ambition. I have sacrificed more than most can ever imagine to get here and many said I was crazy to make the move. To me now on reflection the poverty and simplicity of live here is the great appeal, it was only poverty based and a complex life based on mortgages and credit through a material based culture in the UK.

Many other considering it may prefer more 'up market' countries to move to. Bulgarian life is very rough at the edges for most people here, the infrastructure here is quite unstable. Politics is corrupt in the main and a sense of helplessness from the everyday Bulgarian know there is nothing they can do about it. Mafia infiltrated industry is the only reason it survives as it does here. There is four levels of living here, the rich, mainly Mafia based businesses, the town folk who work for a living and the old pension people in the villages. Then of course there is the gypsy community were in the main live on the fringe of Bulgarian society. Please excuse the generalisation, but that is how I see it here in a snapshot.

Bulgaria is it's own monster and you live and get on with the monster or you try and fight it from your foreign perspective. I gave up fighting the monster quite early on after meeting it face to face everyday.

The Bulgarian countryside is beautiful if you ignore the rubbish that is thrown everywhere. The wildlife and nature excels here and is a major attraction along with the Black Sea Coastal resorts, not totally spoilt from over development yet if you look around. And then there is the skiing resorts if you like skiing and can afford it.

The people seem to be very cold initially, but once you get acquainted you will have a friend for life who can't do enough for you. All you need to do is talk and the thaw starts straight away.

Finally, I am indeed luck enough to now have a Bulgarian partner whose family I know live with. This truly is the most Bulgarian of adventures one could get. A very simple life now is led day to day as that is how most Bulgarians live, on a day to day basis.

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Please now can you consider surfing onto Ricky Yates Weblog. He is an Anglican clergyman who moved to Prague to become Chaplain to the English-speaking Anglican Episcopal congregation in the Czech Republic. A great insight of this Chaplain Brit now living and working there. http://rickyyates.com/

No Chemist Queue, No Waiting, But Never Easy

A simple trip to the chemist to get some medication for Baba should have been plain sailing, but this is Bulgaria and things like that just don't happen.

The day before I had dropped off Baba's personal medication booklet in which all prescribed medication is recorded. The chemist didn't have stock of one type of tablet and this was due to be picked up the next day (today) with payment. The book was left with the chemist so it could be recorded signed and stamped ready for collection. - Simple so far isn't it.

On turning up to the chemist shop there was no waiting as there were no queues. this makes a change from many shopping and bill paying chores I'd done recently in Yambol. I also saw the same person who served me the previous day. She told me that there was no medication booklet for Baba here and I was to try another chemist 100 metres down the road! I told here that I saw here yesterday and personally handed over the booklet to her, but she still insisted the book wasn't there and again to go the neighbouring chemist.

I was completely mystified initially by this complete lapse of memory of this middle aged chemist assistant, added to which an ever growing suspicion that perhaps my Bulgarian wasn't fully understood and this was quite depressing.

So off I tramp to the next chemist knowing fully well that the booklet wasn't there and I would be wasting their time and my time when I get there. Time isn't important here, so I carried on regardless to practice my Bulgarian if nothing else.

Again, no queues no waiting as I asked it there was Baba's medication booklet in their hands. A couple of women assistants who deal with me in tandem understood me completely and started searching for the booklet. A few minutes later they came back an told me what I expected to hear, there was no booklet. They then went away to get a man in the chemist office who spoke a little English. This was a complete waste of time as I told him the story in Bulgarian and he confirmed back to me in very bad English that he understood completely, but there is no booklet here.

It was back to the original chemist, yet again, no queues, no waiting and saw the same assistant once again. I explained that the book must be here and for her to look for it again. She went away to return a moment later with the booklet along with the prescribed tablets that were delivered today and rubberbanded to the booklet. Bulgarians in the main don't normally apologise from my experience, well according to most they are never wrong and this was the case here. No apology just a comment saying, "Sitchko dobre," or "Everything is okay."

So Baba finally got her medication and I got my speaking Bulgarian confidence back. It is funny how on so many occasions that a simple task is never really a simple task in Bulgaria.

Google Translator - Very Funny Sometimes

We have discovered Google translator and now I can write to my Bulgarian partner Galia in Bulgarian and Galia in turn can write to me in English and fully understand each other better than ever before - it is like an instant miracle or getting a sixth-sense. We have been writing to each other for the last few days through Skype using the Google translator before posting our messages, fantastic, but extremely funny sometimes.

As with all non-human translators, the meaning and phrasing don't always make a logical statement and such was the case on many occasions over the last couple of days.

I have given a few of these funny moments for you to see. My short explanation of the intended meaning is bracketed underneath.

tonight I will hire some food
(Tonight I will buy some food)

you breakfast?
(Have you had breakfast)

increase the degree of air conditioning and let your oven
(Turn the air-conditioner up and light the gas fire)

a man who lives for us will lead me
(a neighbour will drive me (home))

You sit on your ass
(Can you sit down on your bottom yet? - referring to my slipped disc injury)

after work I go drink in a brandy plum and salad
(I'm going for a Salad and Rakia after work - she was teasing me as I am confined in bed)

No doubt there will be many more of these in the future

Keep Your English Mouth Shut

A Skype message from Galia today, ‘I’ve broken my tooth can you bring my toothbrush and toothpaste to work when you pick me up at 5:00?’ Oh dear, it wasn’t bad enough that she had been ill with her kidneys for the past two weeks and picked up a cold at the weekend, now with the broken tooth a trilogy of illnesses have come about. And there’s me as fit as a fiddle feeling guilty that she has all the problems.

We met at 5:00 and it was straight off to the dentist after she had gingerly brushed here teeth before the short trip to the dentist. The tooth that had broken was a molar that had taken some battering with a boiled sweet at lunchtime.

The dentist was in the town centre as we parked up and made out way to the entrance. You would never know a dentist was there as the façade was just like another other town house in Yambol. The only give away was a very small plaque (quite funny seeing as it is a dentist sign) about the imposing grey painting metal gate. As we walk through the front garden there was a classical styled tap and sink built into the wall with a moulded bust at eye level and next to that an old vine that travelled up the wall and out of site, there were still black grapes hanging just out of arms reach, which it probably why they are still there.

You would still never know this was a dentist until the double glazed front door was opened, but it wasn’t from the sight of the narrow ceramic tiled hallway, it was the unmistakable smell of a dentist. Hard to describe this clinical and distinctive air of scent, but all who attend dentist will know.

Galia, who hadn’t said much throughout all this time, understandably sudden gave instructions. ‘Stay here!’ She was telling me to wait in the hallway whilst she went into the dentist’s reception room. I was under the impression she didn’t want me to see her in pain. There were other patients and partners there but all in the reception area with Galia, I was the only person out of the social limelight. I really felt like I should have been in the chatting away with everyone else.

I could hear things going on in the busy environment as I sat on a little lonely plastic chair there feeling like an outcast whilst reading a tattered, old, Bulgarian football magazine that was left on the table.

A full 30 minutes had elapses as people walked backwards an forwards past me giving greetings as they went past, as they do here. There was a little curiosity in their mannerisms as if to ask why I am sitting there and not in the surgery with my partner like everyone else is?

Galia finally came out with the dentist; I was quite surprised to see that the dentist was quite an elderly woman. Greeted them both as they approached and it fell upon a silence. I looked at Galia and asked if she was okay. Still there was no response and a silence came about again. It was almost a rushed movement as we walked out, no eye contact was made from Galia as she quickly said goodbye to the dentist and paced outside leaving me in her wake. It was only when we both got outside I finally realised what all the strange goings on where all about.

It was explained that I should have kept my mouth shut and not said anything at all in the dentist’s premises. Galia went on to explain that if they found out I was English they would charge her more money for the treatment. She was very worried indeed that now they may well up the price for the work they are due to do tomorrow. As is was, even at Bulgarian prices, the cost of the work needed is the equivalent of around one month of Galia's earnings (around 350 leva).

The fact that I speak Bulgarian all the time I am with Galia doesn’t come into play, it is not Bulgarian’s Bulgaria and anyone listening who know straight away that this is not a Bulgarian and therefore richer than them!

It is so true that because I am English or non-Bulgarian, they will charge you substantially more, even if you have a Bulgarian partner. If a Bulgarian has an English partner, they will think that that Bulgarian will also have come into lots of disposable income; this is how they think. This is how they see the English here and this is what we have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

No one knows that we are both living here on the poverty line like most others and if we try to explain that they think we are lying. There is no way out of their thoughts and association of English equals Rich. Perhaps Galia is right; well I know she is, if I keep my mouth shut when out and about, this would be better for us all round.

Speaking Bulgarian Is A Must Here

Speaking Bulgarian is a must if you intend to live in Bulgaria, not least just out of respect for the country you choose to live in. How would you feel if someone came to your home country and just didn’t bother try and speak your language? Without any knowledge of Bulgarian you will be spending a lot of money for many reasons, including getting conned by Bulgarian who take advantage of you. I’ve seen it happen.

Since coming here I am quite proud of the fact that I can quite easily get by with my Bulgarian, in fact it only took a couple of weeks to be able to manage simple greeting, a little small talk, shopping and getting around. I’m not that intelligent and have dyslexia so if I can do it so can others. I had to try really hard to set aside time to learn by various methods. Labelling all the items in the home, having the Cyrillic alphabet on the wall in my sitting room staring at me all the time. Also, and not successfully, reading language tutorial books, tapes and CDs, all of which I stopped after the first 10 pages because they just didn’t work for me.

The most effective way to learn was to visit neighbours and although in the beginning there was hour just sitting there like a lemon, there is a transition of just picking up a few odd words, then to a few sentences and right now, understanding most of what the conversations are about and contributing to a degree. This has taken three years but then I have had an advantage of working and living with other Bulgarians for a couple of years now. There has not been any formal tuition in all of that time.

The language is difficult, many other try really hard but just can’t get off the ground with it, but at leas they try and can gain respect from other Bulgarian for the effort they make.

It comes to pass that now I speak English on very rare occasions, it can be weeks that pass and no English is spoken, then when it is called for I forget simple English words like air conditioner or wood burner, that is very strange for me. Recently I had family over from England, they had to keep reminding me of English words and found it funny that every so often I would speak in Bulgarian to them without even realising it.

This coming weekend is very different however. We are off to our Skalitsa Farmhouse for the weekend as usually, but I am accompanied with four Bulgarian women. The include Galia of course my partner, Poliya her niece and her two daughter,s Chrissie and Slivia. Chrissie is 18 and Silvia is 9 years old and they both speak English which is a mandatory requirement in taught schools now for all children in schools here. The idea is that I speak English all weekend to them so their language skills can improve. That to me is going to be very difficult for me, as I haven’t done that for over three years. A relaxing weekend it won’t be; I will be mentally exhausted by Sunday evening trying to speak English all the time.

There is one thing for sure, if I hadn't made the effort to learn Bulgarian there would be total isolation from everything in Bulgaria other than other expatriates who don't try to learn. And to all who know me, that would be the last thing I want.

Red for Go in Bulgaria

As we approached the first set of traffic lights they turned red. Slowing down Ivan said, “Go! Go!” The lights were firmly red as he continued to tell me to drive through them, as there was no traffic and no police around. So off I go turning right after jumping a red light feeling quite guilty about it.

Ivan explained after that everyeone did this, if the way was clear and no police were about what is the problem, what harm it is doing. He went on to say that the police would not even bother picking on red light runners as long as it was safe, the police do it as well.

It is one thing to jump lights in town but the silly thought came over as to why they don’t have traffic lights in the villages? Just a moment of stupidity with that thought for one fleeting moment I could see all the villagers jumping red lights as they are a law unto themselves. Then within a few seconds I realised how stupid that thought was; there is no traffic in villages!

Ivan was quite proud of me calling me a true Bulgarian driver having taken his advice. He said it saves time, fuel and other cars behind me that followed would think I am Bulgarian not English. Well, that little consolation fro me really as Galia just sat there with a grin on her face, but it didn’t give away whether she thought it was right or wrong. But then she has told me to drive the wrong way up one-way streets before now!

Bad Brits in Bulgaria

From Novinite News Wednesday, 19th September 2007

Two UK nationals were given 8-month suspended sentences and three years to be served in probation for attacking policemen in Bulgaria's town of Veliko Tarnovo a week ago.

I was going to keep quiet about this but last week I recall an instance where I was walking home to get my daily Bulgarian lunch and reading a topic thread about the same type of thing hit a note.

On a daily basis en route to home cooked lunch, I always pass the police station in Yambol, this is also the place where you also get your residents permits from. This being the case occasionally you hear English being spoken as they make their way there from the town centre or hang around the area at lunchtime as it is closed.

This was one of those days where a family group with distinct English accents were picked up were making their way up the hill toward the police station. I tend keep my mouth shut on these occasions as the lunch waiting on the table at home would get cold if delayed. And in this instance I was very glad I did.

Bulgarian parking systems on the pavements in Yambol mean that I was forced to follow behind the English speaking people in single file whilst walking on and up the hill. This gave opportunity to overhear their conversation on reflection wish I never heard......

It was about get rat-arsed on the previous Saturday night at a stag night on the Black Sea Coast. They went on talking about smashing a window, trashing the hotel room they were staying in and roughing up the hotel manager who had 'the cheek' to complain in the morning.

They spoke with pride in their voices as the laughing followed the description. In the process their limited vocabulary was mixed with an infrequent variety of abusive adjectives. To add to this one of the foreigners was pushing a pram with a child in it - What a future for that child!

Now this is something that embarrassed the living daylights out of me. I just hoped and prayed that they weren't applying for a Bulgarian resident permit as they turned off toward the entrance of the police station. They should really be going there to face charges!

Many or most things that go on in Yambol are pleasant experiences but on occasions something shakes you up a bit. this was an instance but nothing to do with Bulgaria or the Bulgarians but undesirable outsiders who feel they have license to do what they want without fear of punishment.

So when an item of news comes in where punishment is given for this type of behavior it is actually good new but what did they get? In the case that was mentioned a suspended sentence - What is that in terms of punishment? Well nothing actually.

On a final note, this is very rare in Yambol and its surround. The instance witnessed was the only instance in all the time I have lived and worked here in Yambol.

Whatever the future holds with these people coming to Bulgaria the attraction of this region remains firmly in decent law abiding foreigners with a respect for how things are here.

Some Black Sea resorts however will always bring in summer madness from foreigners which is why I am so glad I live away from all this.