What Makes a Good Christmas?

Having now got really quite sick by watching all the crap on TV about buying expensive Christmas presents, I saw an article today that tried to answer the question, what makes a good Christmas? The conclusion was, and I agree, covered many things but definitely not money.

We will be spending Christmas with family here in Bulgaria with lots of food, drink, music, dance talk and love, but no expensive present swapping. Firstly we can't afford it and secondly, which leads on from the first point, it is insulting and quite rude to give expensive presents here it just embarrasses.

I have quoted an exert from the article I read, and mentally equated to it really easily, how about you?

From Money doesn't make a good Christmas

If spending money on expensive gifts is what makes a good Christmas for some people, I sorrow for their Christmases when money is tight.

At this time, when more and more people are struggling to pay their bills and keep ahead of gloomy economic forecasts, it's nice to know a good Christmas is really about love and good will, smiles and songs, friendship and family.

At its most basic level, a good Christmas is about a young couple, arriving in a strange place with nowhere to stay but a stable full of animals and no gifts to give each other but the baby that was born there.

That was a good Christmas.

A Bulgarian Present - An Apartment

It is traditional in Bulgaria for the parents to provide their children with a home of their own this is normal. This is the main reason why mortgages are rare in Bulgaria the homes are passed down to the siblings without any need for them.

Today was such a day where this happened and the thoughts and emotions of the day were quite profound from everyone who was party to it.

Galia has two sons and two homes in Yambol, one home is the family home in Yambol where here mother and son who will end up with this home. The other is an apartment on the other side of Yambol which where many years ago she worked hard to pay for this over most of her working life, solely to provide for her other son. This is even more of an achievement being a single mother in Bulgaria.

How sensible that this tradition takes place and how unfortunate that the tradition is on the point of collapse, as the housing market prices have rocketed due to tourism, EU admission and greed, not necessarily in that order. The purchase of a new home in Bulgaria for Bulgarian children is beyond the reach of most people here without now the aid of the Banks who are laughing in the face of tradition here with their incessant need to control people and breed credit just for profit. No wonder there are so many banks in Yambol now, many Bulgarian need them to achieve their goal of finding homes of their children and can’t without them.

The tragedy is that the land and credit they can get from banks isn’t enough for property now as the price of an apartment is now longer commensurate to securing a loan based on wages here. Modern Bulgarian families now face the prospect of children who will become homeless when adults with their own families, will this lead to families sharing homes or finding work elsewhere and extended families fragmenting the very foundation of traditional family values in Bulgaria?

The other fact about Bulgarian families is that sensibly only have one or two children, this is purely practical in view of the responsibility that comes with parents. If you can’t afford to have the children and provide and set them up into adulthood with a home then don’t. How many other people in other countries look at this value when considering a family?

Back to the apartment that is now going to be handed over to Galia’s elder son, he has his girlfriend with him this evening. They called at the house at 8:30 it was dark and we all went see the apartment, which is now empty from the previous rent paying residents being ousted for this moment.

We arrived to be greeted by all the neighbours who were sitting out in the street talking. The smell of barbecued peppers and Rakia was strong but I couldn’t quite see where it was coming from, perhaps on of the many balconies that hung out of the small apartment blocks. It made my mouth water, even though we had had barbecued peppers to eat earlier that evening. It was a full 20 minutes before the talking stopped and we went inside the block.

Everyone is excited, Anton and Koyna for this was the first time they were to see the apartment. Galia as she was proud that all her lifetime efforts were now seeing a result in her son having his own home. Not least me as this was a totally new concept for me to see, a parent providing security for here son with the knowledge that she will be giving everything she has away. No need for wills to be made promising inheritance; this is all based on family trust and custom here. She will be looked after in the family house with her other son and future partner until she dies, he has the bigger share and therefore the responsibility of looking after his mother, just like Galia is looking after her mother in the family home presently. The idea of living in a home that you don’t own is something I find very hard to accept. The degree of family trust and a total materialistic stand off are the reasons that this happens here.

In the ground floor entrance was a series of brown painted metal post boxes as Anton checked his with number 8 written on it. He joked when he saw nothing in there saying that it will be full of bill for the apartment soon.

The basement of the block was explored, each apartment has a basement room for storage and we saw there were stacked metal shelves with lots of glass jars full of preserved tomatoes and peppers and old Russian Christmas decorations and a big wooden barrel that had some ancient wine in. On the top shelf was a new plastic covered single bed, something the previous resident had either forgot to take or will come back for as it is far too good to leave.

We finally got up to the first floor where the apartment was, before we entered Galia gave Anton the key and that was the formal acceptance of the apartment as a gift. He gingerly opened the secure front door amidst three other very individual doors in the hallway with hand made mats and slipper placed on them.

On entering the place was swarming with insects and a stale smell greeted us, but we were all beyond that as we explored the kitchen living room, bedroom and wet room (bathroom). There was a box room next to the kitchen and a sealed balcony with interconnections with the living room and bedroom overlooking the street.

For us all the place was a home but needed a lot of work all the tile were falling apart in the kitchen area and the rest was just in need of a total stripping and redecoration, the place has never been modernised since it was built some 30 years ago. We of course will all work together as a family to get it into shape. Money was offered to help with this as the gifting goes on. But I feel that Anton was overjoyed as for the first time he has now a place he can call his own home, but of course this will be passed down to his children in around 25 years time. No need to die to give.

We locked up and reflected on the moment of handing over and what work was still to be done and ended up in a local bar where the owner is a Bulgarian television celebrity. Ivo Anton brother had just finished work and was invited there as well as we all finally sat drinking a beer or two in celebration of the day in which Anton was given an apartment as his home. A lovely end to a day of giving.

ADD: I just noticed the Christmas tree on the post in the middle of the lower picture, this is there all year round, not early for this coming Christmas!

Bulgarian Birthday Party

This is Bulgaria and in Yambol we had been invited to a birthday party of one of Galia's friend who live just five minute walk from our house. I had been told that her husband was a hotel chef and that the food was to be scrumptious and in plentiful supply home made rakia to accompany. Actually the day had been a very bad day for me and to be quite honest I didn't even want to go but we had promised and Galia said that a few rakia in the evening would be good after such a terrible day.

The simple gift of a jersey and single flower along with a chocolate bar for their 3 year old son was taken as we walked the cobbled stones towards the house. This young Bulgarian family live right next to a Roma based neighbour hood as the live Roma music got louder and louder thinking that the music entertainment was already laid on thanks to the Roma. We turned into their street with the Roma street party in full swing and it was only 6:30 in the evening. This is a daily happening in Yambol in this area and heard from far and wide in this area. Again no one complains as the pulsating, heaving beat of the chalga was a privilege to have around - and free! I can just see many foreigners looking at the same situation and pulling their hair out. This is what happens here and to me I really can now start to see the sense in enjoying the situation rather than getting frustrated and stressed out with what before would be described as a invasion of unwanted sound in 'my space!'

The front door was approached, a red painted thick metal facade or a better term would be a barricade with no character stood before us. Well this is Roma territory perhaps even letter boxes would present a possible breach of security here.

From an outsiders point of view this was a dump of an area as the birthday house on the side of the Roma littered road that was in total disrepair, it looked like it had been ploughed up ready for winter. Somehow I knew that once inside the house it would be a complete contrast to the chaos outside just like the blocks, (tower blocks) simply beautiful well kept and very clean Bulgarian havens.

The was so true as we took our shoes off to walk on the pristine carpets and ceramic tiled floors you really felt the urge to skate on gave a heaven from hell feeling and a sense of sanctuary. The iron door was slowly closed and an antiphonal effect took place as the open air Roma concert gradually gave was to Bulgarian pop-folk music could be heard in another direction coming another room in the house.

Katia the hostess and Bulgarian birthday girl was given birthday greetings and was wished good health, good luck, good business and luck in love which is a traditional greeting after the initial birthday compliments. The gift were gratefully received and the formalities were over.

The inside of the house was completely modern, spotless with plain white walls and ceiling. As we were led into the living room area a table with food fit for a king lay both meticulously and symmetrically perfect. The snow-capped shopska salad taking the limelight amongst the other delights still in their virgin state!

Another Bulgarian couple turned up half and hour later, more friends, more talking, more food and drink and the party started for real. As always the woman worked around the men who only moved to have their pictures taken or change the music CD and the later only because the women wer in the kitchen preparing more food. To be honest that isn't entirely true, the husband like I said was a chef and all the food had been prepared by him before we arrived. This is very rare so I am told and backed up entirely with what I generally see on a daily basis.

It was now approaching 12:00 and the first occasion that the time was checked up upon, this is not important here it is how you feel and we were all full of food that just kept coming. Rakia with the salad, beer with the meat course (beautiful melt in your mouth pork with mushrooms and sauce moat around rice castle.) The dessert no less special, home baked sponge birthday cake - They save the candles for birthday during power-cuts. This was moist and delicious and a midway sweetness enough to satisfy these sweet-toothed Bulgarians but not too overpowering for me. All finally washed down with lemonade.

I said it was food fit for a king but I was worried about my Princess Galia that something would turn into a pumpkin after midnight only to discover it was my stomach was that something! The characteristic elements of a Bulgarian birthday party are the same as for any gathering of Bulgarian friends and family - food, drink, music and not least talk.

We left in the early hours of the morning and even the Roma party had run out of energy in the Yambol streets. It was only then in the dead quiet of the night with an almost full moon showing us the way home did the time seem important with work the next morning. But in true Bulgarian fashion we didn't rush home.