In London Dead or Alive? Who Cares?

Everyday I live and work in London and see things that should shock but don't.

Cycling to work through Harlesden one morning, I see someone lying in the middle of the road, I think to myself that he was dead. Drivers were driving past not stopping but swerving to avoid running over him. Pedestrians walking past staring, but that's all. It was unreal as I approached the body,  I parked my bike and tried to drag him out of the middle of the road. It was a late to middle-aged Afro-Caribbean man wearing old clothing and he stunk of stale beer. There was no reaction to anything I did as his trousers began peeling down to the extent of embarrassment as I pulled him along on to the pavement. There were blood stains from a head injury left in the wake of the dragging. Someone seeing me struggling, stopped to help after firstly hiding his manhood by pulling his trousers up again.

Eventually amidst the stream of traffic rubber-necking a car finally had the grace to stop in front of us with his hazard lights on to stop traffic behind and rang for an ambulance. The body was eventually propped against a shop window out of the road and on the pavement, Moments later the ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance and that's where I left the scene with blood on my hands, still unsure whether he was alive.

An uncaring, selfish and disjointed community were evident with this occurrence. This is not the world I want to be part of. What hope is there for people living in this area? What have they to look forward to?

The worst bit? I am not shocked.......Why?

A Will? Good idea, but for what?

It is quite funny how sometime you can overlook such blatantly obvious things whilst getting caught up in an idea.

After joining new work Union with my new job and one of the benefits was to give a free Will service for members with a firm of solicitors that they work with. Great, was the thought that went through my head, I had been meaning to do this for years but never been in a position to have disposable income to throw at the idea. Also, because I had a serious cycle accident, this provoked the thought of getting it done before I get killed!

So, it was with an eager pen I wrote to the solicitors to get the process started. The letter of application was send a few weeks ago and to be quite honest I had forgotten about it until a letter arrive yesterday. (This one wasn't stolen form the communal letterbox this time!)

I was tired from work but forced myself to get the application completed and sent off; one less job to later on was the thought.

As the first part was completed with formal stuff like name address, union membership number etc., it came to the section as to what I was to leave. Now it may seem strange to think that this was something that had been completely overlooked. I suddenly looked at my assets and felt quite shocked from the fact that I had nothing! No property, no savings, no car, no jewelery, not even any furniture I own. I used to have a bicycle a few weeks ago, but that was written off with my accident and worth nothing now. All I could leave to anyone was my clothing and that wouldn't even cover my funeral bill! After further thought I discovered that the most valuable thing I owned was my prescription glasses.

It was a very long time of thinking and coning to terms with what was state of fact that I realised that there was no point in a Will if there was nothing to leave anyone. And that wasn't about to change either. At 57 years old I wondered and tried to work out how could this be at my age? 

At least I get a state pension at 66 years old, but unfortunately that can't be put in a Will! 

How could I have ever overlooked such an obvious element to the point of making a Will?

Work History in the UK since 2010

Well since I have been in the UK I have had a variety of work over the last 6 years. Let me recall....

Ah yes. The first job was as a postal sorter in Hatfield. This was a temporary post to cover for Christmas. Within two weeks they asked me if I wanted a  permanent job in the sorting office with prospects beyond. I didn't take this up and moved into a permanent job as a warehouseman in Asda working nights. This lasted for around six months where I started by shelf filling. After a month they put me in charge of movements of stock in the warehouse and responsible for going onto the shelves for fillers. They paid for me to be trained up as a forklift driver and made it clear they were looking to put me in line from promotion to supervisor in due course. I was looked on by other workers as a spy in the midst as my attitude to work was positive and constructive and this didn't fit the bill to many who worked there. I left as I was headhunted by Tesco who I worked for before as a warehouseman before I left for Bulgaria in 2005.

Into Tesco team again which lasted another six months or so working nights as a 'picker' again. They were looking at my potential as a supervisor as they planned to make me up from my time there before, but I didn't get to stay long enough for this to happen now or back then, I was off again.

I had applied to become a bus driver for various bus companies and I was accepted to work on them all. Arriva, Arriva Shires, and London Sovereign. I decided to go for London Sovereign based in Edgware. Having passed all the tests put in front of me I was now a Bus Driver and quite enjoying it. Withing 18 months I was pushed into applying for a Driving Instructor and was accepted having passed all the tests, interviews and trial instructing. With my teaching background, perfect attendance and proven driving skills and interpersonal relationships I flew through and was appointed Relief Driving Instructor and the training began from January 2014. 

Whilst Instructing I also completed an NVQ level 3 in Driving Instruction as well has being given opportunity to teach CPC and BTEC in the classroom. In addition I was out assessing drivers and giving preliminary assessment for prospective drivers coning int he company. I was loving my work now, but my mind was on Bulgaria throughout. This was the passport to leaving the UK and I was very lucky to have a job I loved whilst I was here in the UK against my will.

London Sovereign did not offer me a permanent post as a Driving Instructor so I looked elsewhere. Tangerine was a company who taught me to be an Instructor and also supported me in the NVQ I qualified for. I applied for a Trainer/Assessor with the company, I job I would have loved to do, but there was not free travel with TFL and that was worth a hell of lot, not least freedom for me and Galia at the weekends. We did not have a car and relied on free travel, a perk that TFL gave us being employed by the bus company. I still wonder now whether this was a bad move refusing the post, time will tell.

So, it was only another couple of weeks and I got a job with Metroline as a permanent Driving Trainer and not have been there from nearly 4 months. The money is good, the job is something I still find very easy to get up in the morning and go to. Also there are prospects ahead which is why I took the post. This how is where it is at.

Well, that's progress for you in the bus industry for you after such a short time there. Like I say, I love my work and count myself very lucky doing this and using it as a vehicle to Bulgaria!

That's the work history for you since I have returned to the UK,

The UK - Still the Same Reasons Stand for Leaving

Well, having now been in the UK for a few years with a few brief trips back to our home in Yambol, each day that goes by makes it clearer and clearer why we shouldn't be here.

There are things that have happened here that would scare the living daylights out of people I know both friends and family if they knew about it. But, right now it is being kept locked up in a box which will be opened and revealed in due course when the time it right. There are things that need to be said to expose the evil that has been done by people who think they are Gods. This I might add doesn't just encompass a certain part of people, but a variety of parties not related! I have a great desire to write all about it and all the parties involved should be scared and not sleep at night from worry. This is how we felt over the last few years and continue to suffer.

Enough said for now on this and to looking ahead to the future, and the future is bright! Mainly for the reason of knowing our home is going to be in Bulgaria with no return the the UK for whatever reason, unless my children happen to want me invite me to their wedding. 

The plans are laid it is just a question of when. Galia is just as desperate as I am to get back and live the life we had before, but not in poverty as we found ourselves before. I love my work and that's the only reason that keeps me sane and the thought that the work I do is the key to life in Bulgaria eventually. All else about our life here is essentially a rat race. We have no friends other than old friends who we knew before I went to Bulgaria for the first time. There are acquantainces from work but socially; we are isolated.

I will go into how we arrived to living in a box in the centre of Edgware eventually, but we are happy in our own company without any strangers to have consideration for. The 'room' we live in is 16m2 with a bathroom 2m2 (which is the size of a cupboard). The kitchen is a sink with a microwave underneath and a fridge wedged under the draining board. There is a couple of portable camping hotplates besides the sink drainer. That's it. We have had cockroaches and mice, (the mice have just returned this week again as we live directly above a fish and chip shop which is where they come from.) There are parties in neighbouring rooms every weekend and our post get stolen froma community post box in caged letterbox in main entrance door. With no washing machine, the launderette however is only 100 metres away so that is a bonus. People stamp past our door at all hours which is something we have had to get used alongside the stifling heat in most of the spring summer and autumn with no air-conditioning, remember we live above a fish and chip shop. It has taken a long time to get used to and bare up to things, but there are people far worse than us, people who have nothing to look forward to!

More, much more to come...

Why Back to the UK?

It has been quite few years now back in the UK working, but that's all I do here. The question as to why I came back is something that is quite difficult to answer, although many may suspect it is to do with money.

With life in Bulgaria is was really a quest for survival. There was never going to be any time when the worry about where the money was going to come for the next electric bill or repairs to the home let alone anything else considered a luxury. Let me stress though, this is how most Bulgarians live and you can totally understand why the draw to places that pay decent wages for work appeals so much. After all, it is a sense of dignity to try and do something proactive to find work and build for the future to many Bulgarians. When the walls of red tape went down for freedom to work anywhere in Europe look what has happened. It is still very difficult just to go to a foreign country and find work and even harder if you don't speak that language, but many have.

The question still runs through my mind on why I left Bulgaria. Part of that was with the same ideals as why Bulgarians leave. I have a duty to my family both in Bulgaria and the UK to find work and pay for basics and that was not happening in Bulgaria despite my best efforts. I of course had a head start, I was a qualified teacher with lots of work experience in many fields.

Well the decision was made and I left heading towards London where the streets are paved with gold but was never going to be my new home. The story unfolds.

Back to the UK and London? Not my home, hasn't been for nearly a decade!

Unemployed In Bulgaria - More Than Likely

Having just got back to work after being laid off with a bad back, it was seemingly back to normal albeit in freezing temperatures and a frozen up Lada that wouldn’t move. Taxi fares took up a third of my daily wage without my own transport and buses that just didn’t go en route to my work place. This is the last thing I need after a week off sick with no pay. Oh well, I thought, once this ice disappears all will be well. Or will it…

Yesterday 5 people got laid off work due to lack of business, today a further two got their cards. The workforce is down from 26 to 18 and on Monday it will be down to 10. Things are in a serious state here. Monday we hear there are more being laid offs with Galia and I two of many more victims of the recession here.

I don’t really feel in the mood for blogging right now, as my mind is preoccupied with contingency plans if more than likely we both get our cards on Monday. Funny, but I just had a horrible thought. Does the UK call? At least I will get Unemployment benefit there if I can borrow the airfare there. A worse nightmare scenario, so stop there Martin.

What am I thinking? We will get through somehow here I know. Thousands of Bulgarians are out of work and have no subsistence money how do they survive? I am about to find out.

Work - That's How It Is In Bulgaria For Bulgarians

It is a standstill in Bulgaria right now. Even with the exceptional mid winter nothing is happening on the land, which lays dormant until March and then the work begins in April. It is traditional the working land is ploughed in February which should give a finer soil composition after many months of frost and is also the time for sowing garlic to follow on the November sowing last year. Exciting times ahead, if only there were more hours in the day to deal with this.

Working 45 hours a week it is going to be hard work to keep on top of things on the Yambol Factory farm as I will have to work in the evenings there. To me this is a new system, a Bulgarian system of burning the candle at both ends that I hadn’t realised until recently. How else do Bulgarians manage to keep their homegrown produce in full production and hold full time jobs at the same time? Quite simply it is by working around the clock and at weekends. This year will be a new dawning for me on how hard Bulgarian work and would explain they’re ‘leka rabota’ (easy work) attitude. After all you can’t work 100 mph 24/7 from April to October, so they take their foot off the pedal to cope with this. (I actually hate the expression 24/7 - It's such a westernised quote!)

It is no village farmhouse this weekend as we are trying to economise even further and the cost of our weekend trips is expensive and not really commensurate to our income. To put it in perspective the cost of a weekend in Skalitsa all in is the monetary equivalent of over two days work! This is something that cannot be reduced with the car fuel for 74 kilometres round trip, heating and extra food and drink. With the spring and warmer weather we will have to think of a cheaper way of getting there and back. Perhaps sharing the trip with village commuters, which we did on occasion last year.

We currently have a good life here, work very hard enjoy the time not working with the best food and drink you could imagine and a social life that doesn’t cost anything other than time. We don’t travel at all or have holidays other than perhaps an extended weekend on the coast once a year, but that makes it even more special when it happens. If there is one thing on our want list it is a bit of privacy, but that’s just me I suppose.

Finally Got A Job In Bulgaria Again

Thank you all for all your comments regarding my last post. There is a burning inside me that wants to spill all that happens here but it is being held back by time. It is something that I thought I would have lots of here - this is not the case right now. Far from being a rat race, things just take far longer to do here than in my previous life and trying to acclimatise with this is still something I am trying to fight, although never as much as I used to.

After being made redundant here back in 2007, it is with relief that I have now found local work here at the minimum Bulgarian wage (around 18 BG Leva a day.) I am now otherwise occupied for over 40 hours a week sweating out with other labouring non-English speaking Bulgarians. I am very lucky indeed, as many people here do not have any work at all here. It was found through the family grapevine and social connections, without this I would now probably be on a plane to the UK with borrowed money for the flight and find myself homeless and jobless there.

So as it stands now I am working as a labourer full time. It is physically demanding and I’m totally knackered at the end of the day, (which I really love for some strange reason,) but now have a living here where a contribution to the family budget can be made. I certainly feel less guilty eating the food that is constantly laid on the table. After work it is working on the farm, even in the dark and weekends still at the village of Skalitsa maintaining the farm there (without Internet connections.)

The time spent blogging now is maybe an hour or two at the most prior to hitting the pillow for some well earned sleep. Somehow the pressure to fit things in this time is making blogging stressful trying to cram everything in. For now all I can do is keep things ticking over and that’s what I will try and do. This is being written in a rush at 6:00 am prior to setting off to work at 7:00 whilst eating a banitsa and drinking Ayran.

Living or Surviving in Bulgaria?

I mentioned on a previous post that it is not a case of living here but surviving here. For many who come here to retire they have a income from either a pension, inheritance or a nest egg they have saved to live on. These expatriates are mainly here to retire and take the backwaters of Bulgaria. Trips to the Coast, the mountains, sightseeing, restaurants and many other things to keep them amused and entertained. There are other countries that can provide a much better retirement location that Bulgaria and I still contest that the main reason expatriate retirees are here is because it is cheap.

It was my original dream to move to France, I loved the diverse countryside,the culture and the language. Everything was geared toward a move there, then the cost of living went sky high, property prices untouchable with a dream now that had faded into oblivion. A depressed Englishman with a dream of living on a small holding completely shattered. I didn't want much, just a small living area and a bit of land to do my own thing. No cars, televisions, microwaves or anything that the modern world makes you think you need. A simple life where you work for you food, not a financial world, but a bartering world. It can still be down to a degree in Europe, the question was for how long?

Bulgaria was there, it seemed just what I was looking for. Then the affordability of Bulgaria came in to play. Affordability is one thing, maintaining to pay for living a life there is another. You can survive will a little money, but you can't with none. Without any pension, nest egg or inheritance, this was the last chance I had. Staying in the UK wasn't an option and although it going to be difficult in Bulgaria it was something I felt compelled to do rather than carrying on in a downward spiral - You could call it desperation I suppose.

Galia works for her brother who owns and manages a boiler manufacturing company. On the site they not only have a new massive factory, but around a big area of land, part of which is farmed by the workers and the crops are rewards for their labours. Now I have been offered work there in the past as another cog in the wheel of boiler manufacturing, but Galia didn't want me to as she felt that this isn't the kind of work that I would enjoy. Besides that that assume that the pay would be an insult to an Englishman. She works there full-time from 7:30 to beyond 5:00 and the odd Saturday and receives less that £150 a month. She is a manager and gets paid more than the workers there who work the same hours. We manage on this wage and Baba's pension; I earn next to nothing and living off other people's income and this is very difficult for me to accept. There is little or no work for me now in the factory as the financial crisis has meant that employees have had to be laid off.

Today, we are just about surviving, as long as our health is fine we should make it. As it stands we will be working all our lives to survive. Having said that, that's exactly what we would be doing the UK and probably end up in an early grave for our efforts.

Would I return to the UK to work for a short spell again for more funds? There is only one reason I would go back to the UK, but that's my secret.

Welcome Home to Bulgaria Sylvia

Monday morning and Galia and I can hardly move, as the muscles in our bodies seemed to have been through ten rounds in a boxing ring and we were the losers. Why?

It all started with Galia’s niece turning up in Bulgaria, she had been working as a nurse in Greece for the last four years. She had decided to come back to Bulgaria and a home welcoming evening was organised at a Yambol restaurant last Saturday evening. In attendance were Galia, her niece (the nurse) another niece of Galia’s, plus another friend of the family. The scenario is set for four beautiful women and myself out for the evening and the best part of the morning., We partied on until we dropped, how fortunate am I and Sylvia insisted she paid for the whole evening! She had been earning ‘real money’ in Greece, not the pittance given out in wages to employees in Bulgaria - After all, that’s exactly why here and millions of other work abroad.

We all met at 7:30 in a well-known Bulgarian restaurant and the eating and drinking began. Four years away and Sylvia had lots to talk about with her experiences working in Greece. My goodness can she talk, Bulgarian are renown for their non-stop talking and conversation, but this to date was the most incessant example I had experienced since coming here. Four Bulgarian women talking all night, not much food was eaten, too much talking for that, but quite a bit of rakia was downed throughout the night, Sylvia loves rakia, she couldn’t get it in Greece and was making up for time.

We were due to attend a retro music discothèque after the restaurant, as Galia and myself took off to make a reservation at around 9:30. But to our disappointment it was fully booked and we had to think of alternative plans after we had got back to the talking, salads and Rakia.

During the course of out restaurant stay, I was fortunate to meet the Head coach of the Bulgarian National Basketball team, I had met Ivan once before on the 'St. George' Name Day party in Yambol's big Diana Park in the summer. Lovely chap, but he was letting his hair down tonight with friends, he still smokes with his left hand and rakia held in the right as I remember from before.

Sylvia was a stressed Bulgarian woman this evening, it showed as she couldn’t get her words out fast enough – she wanted to get it all off her chest. She told tales of how badly she had been treated in Greece by the men who have no respect fro their own women let alone Bulgarian women. She spent most of her time indoors tending the sick. Never had hardly any time off and what time was off was spent sleeping recovering from the workload. She never wants to go back there again and realises that money is important but there is no quality of life doing what she was doing away from family. She intends to work in Bulgaria but won’t even think about work until the New Year – she needs time to recover mentally from the experience. Galia and I know exactly what she is going through on that scale.

We had some musical visitors; a local village called Kabile has a Gypsy band. They came in to perform well-known Bulgarian songs but in Gypsy style arrangements that involved a lot of unified singing (shouted in the main) with a rhythm that never stops. The band consists of an accordion, two clarinets, a violin and two drummers. They were loud, brash and full of energy and they were still playing gone midnight as we left.

We went to another restaurant with more live music, this time Bulgarian/Greek/Gypsy style with the Gypsy element on keyboard the Greek on the bouzouki and Bulgarian sung by the very big male vocalist. We spent the rest of the evening now on beer and dance with a little meze on the table.

The dancing just went from strength to strength with music just calling and wanting to be danced to. This of course was expected from everyone who dined there as the lines of Bulgarians with traditional dance steps were made throughout the evening.

We finally finished at gone 3:00 in the morning and in bed just before 4:00 after walking a few kilometres in the crisp clear Yambol air. We never get drunk of course, there is far too much dancing to ever get that close, besides it isn’t the Bulgarian way to do this.

A night out with my Bulgarian family was an absolute pleasure, we are all glad to see Sylvia back in Bulgaria, but as we all know here, she will need time to recover from being away, this is important for tonight we knew she wasn’t at all right from the experience of being away from her homeland.

As for us, well we all know now why it is painful to move today, the dancing we did would merits a marathon! We probably lost weight that evening!

Bulgarian Cities and Towns and Much Needed Villages

This is Bulgaria and in this place where I have chosen to live we find 249 towns and cities over 5,000 villages scattered around the country. Almost every Bulgarian has a village connection either because they once lived in a village or their ancestors lived or still live there. Bulgaria remain a rural country in so many ways. Many Bulgarians have moved to the towns and cities for work but often they return the villages as it is only there that they can resurrect their Bulgarian soul.

Life today in Bulgaria as many Bulgarians will tell you, takes a village to survive. If there were no villages, life for many would be unbearable for many that live and work here. This is more true for the older generation, but in time the younger generation will become that older generation and have the same feelings.

It has been difficult for many Bulgarians over the last two decades. Before this, the population had time to relax with friends, enjoy the beautiful nature and have a stress free existence. This is not the case in Bulgaria today for many people who working harder, work longer with relaxation becoming a thing of the past. It is even more difficult with this for them to stay in communication to people. Money earned has to be spent on food and other things rather than other luxuries rather than having a good time with friends and family.

Village life is totally different from town and city life. It is cheaper, friends are always there working. People grow almost everything they eat. There is bread, sugar and a few other things bought at the store but most are homemade. Rakia, of course, the national drink, is made from the grapes or other fruits grown in the gardens in the villages. It is not uncommon for a village household to make in excess of 100 litres a year of Rakia for their own use. Buying Rakia from a store or offering anything other than home made Rakia to visitors is unheard of.

It is as important to people to spend time in a village as it is in the cities, but in a different way. Town and City folk work eight hours a day and go home or go out to play. Village folk work from dawn to dusk and never go anywhere. When all the work has been done, you will see people sitting on the street in front of their houses or in the yard around a run down old table. Town and City folk have time to waste, but this is never ever the case in the village as there are always chores to be done. They are deep in though of the arrival of winter and they must be
prepared.

To many Bulgarians feel that village life is not an appealing life style on a permanent basis. It offers very few of the nice things in life that the western world have come to enjoy. However, it offers something for the town and city folk for a few days or weeks. A deserved break from the rat race of the city and their stressful working environment. It is in the village that they can reconnect to their roots and the real Bulgaria. This is something they can't find anywhere else.

Their culture and tradition, while not as popular as they once were in the past, can still be found in villages. Grandparents and friends still live in the old ways, doing things how they had always been done and life itself is simple and good. the village is a refuge and relief over a glass of homemade Rakia and Shopska salad. These are moments in time to forget modern Bulgaria where the hectic life will wait again for them.

Working Bulgarians?

Working Bulgarians in Bulgaria are subjected to very long hours indeed, not only long hours, many months without holiday entitlement and ridiculous rate of pay but all is not what it seems.

It has got to the point where because of the stress living and working in England we can back sooner much sooner without much finance and working here again is something we now have to do.

Having worked in Bulgaria before, and put the hours in basically for the most at a Bulgarian rate of pay the problem was that I worked like an Englishman and the pace of work was completely different from Bulgarians.

What I am getting at is the long hours up to 12 hours a day is quite normal for Bulgarian workers, the pace at which they works means that they tackle the problem of extended hours with slow, methodical work with many breaks. Working sometimes is just a case of them being there for most of the time.

I have lost count of the times I see workers in shops and markets just sitting there smoking, talking or sometimes not there at all. This is normal. The customers and shoppers are far outweighed by the sellers and shopkeepers therefore the demand for stressful busy time is nonexistent.

The minimum rate of pay per month in Bulgaria is 220 BGL every month. Just based on working a 8 hour/five day a week equates to 1.38 BGL (55p) an hour. Most however work in excess of 10 hours therefore over 6 days this brings the true hourly rate to 92 stotinki (37p) an hour. Bare in mind that also the majority of workers are paid the minimum wages and a black market where less than this is paid to casual workers.

Just a thought, a packet of cigarettes now cost on average around 2.40 lev and would take over 2 half hours working to earn. In the UK it would take just one hour based on their National minimum wage! So who says that cigarettes are cheap in Bulgaria? They are nearly three times the equivalent here for the working Bulgarians. I won’t go into how smoking pensioners get by…

The point I am trying to get over is that long working hours is something that is normal here and is only looked at with shock from foreigners comparing western Europe hours and pay. Because they are in the workplace for 10 hours or so the term work may not apply for that amount of time.

So, because of our poor disposition, Galia is now having and indeed wanting to work. Relatively speaking though she is better off than most other Bulgarian workers as I would not allow here to work through the 60 a week hour barrier with a minimum wage. Bearing in mind she done this before working in a shop and would have done it again without me there.

Myself, I was offered work driving long distances but Galia insisted that I don’t take it up as I was English and the hours and pay would not do me justice. She knows full well that my work-rate would 110% and not like a Bulgarian and I would totally exhausted myself doing it.

She is right of course!

Supermarket Slavery and Bulgarian Lemmings

Supermarket slavery to some may seem like a strong statement - but just ask anyone who has worked for these profit making monsters, me included. It is rooted right down the line their complete and prime objective to make money and total disregard for any humanity in the workforce.

Supermarket slavery goes deeper than the shop floor and the checkout girl with the grim face.... add Bulgarian lemmings and you have something called workforce manipulation in full flow!

Stories about Bulgarian being lured to the UK to work for pittance and live in squalid condition carries on regardless. What on earth possess these skilled workers, many with University education, to go and do work that Brits don't want to do. This picture of the the UK where the streets are paved with gold still stands in the mind of many foreigners who haven't been there!

Recent stories still hit the headlines one in particular where some weren't even paid for their services made under a false promises. Where do these unfortunate Bulgarian workers' get legal support? Where is their trade union? Who has their interests at heart? The only way this particular incident was resolved was apparently only through media attention. Where does this leave all other instances out of the public eye? Simple answer really it still carries on regardless.

Most of the workforce are there in the food chain geared up to serve supermarkets with their massive profit margins. Why do they have gross amounts of profit? - because of the proven 'criminal' cost cutting exercises that go on further back in the food chain process.

Much of this goes on where sub contracting work goes on but who is responsible for the contractors who lure these workers? Much is unregulated and even now where there claims to be more mandatory regulation introduced. Regardless of this, history dictates that this 'immoral system' contrived by the pressures of profits will still continues due to the screw being turned from supermarket demands.

The supermarkets on the face of it may have a moral responsibility from the root of their profits to account for the treatment of indirect industries that make them so successful. Vetting can be made throughout the food chain process with a drop in the ocean to them in terms of investment needed to solve this.

It should be mentioned that would be a complete u-turn in policy from them as their sole aim is to make as much profit as possible which leads to this corner cutting and feeding off the poor, in essence turning a purposeful blind eye to anything that involves additional cost nibbling away at profits.

The money earned by and Eastern European workforce in Britain for unskilled agricultural work is between 3-4 Euros per hour. How on earth will they pay for their ticket back home on this let alone sending back any disposal income to families back there? It would seem they would be better of finding work in their own country as least they wouldn't go hungry!

With my ear to the ground in Bulgaria there is still this impression that the UK is rich hunting ground for 'loads of money' jobs. Even with negative publicity pushed upon them they are still like Bulgarian lemmings jumping off a cliff. The only saving grace to many is that they can't afford the flight to the UK in the first place.

www.bulgarianrealestateonline.com

www.ourbulgarianworld.com

www.self-catering-breaks.com/Properties/Prop42149.htm

Skalitsa Man from Eden to Heaven

Things change and this week there was another chapter closed in the road I live in Skalitsa. Another member of the Skalitsa community passed away last week, my closest neighbour Dino. He was 73 and fell asleep in the field of sweetcorn never to wake. A very peaceful ending for a man who never stopped working all his life but always had time for people. His wife departed some 10 years ago now is joined up with him again in Heaven's garden having both spent their lives in the Garden of Eden.

His family are working his farm now but on a scaled down level whether it carries on as a farm or whether it gets put up for sale and turned into an ex-pat home is up in the air at the moment. But as trends go this is what is happening in the villages. He had helped me personally no end with learning the ropes of farm life and took me into the community with such warmth and friendliness and I miss him being there now.

Dino was a man of small stature, he have a severe curving of the spine hence he was bent forward permanently, quite common in many older generation smallholders. Never really found out what the cause of this was whether inherited or from the labours of the land. He was well known to everyone as are all the people who live in Skalitsa. It was quite strange about Dino's relationships with most other folk in the village but they never ever commented on whether they like him or not. They didn't have an opinion of him he was just Dino and nothing else. Of course everyone talks to everyone else all the time and Dino was no exception and often villagers on their way past his farm they would pause to sit on his bench outside his farm talking sometimes for hours as the sun sinks down the Bulgarian skyline.

The produce Dino had on his farm made him completely self-sufficient bar bread, lemonade, gas and electric. He works very hard never having taken a day off in his life, that's a fact I found out when speaking with him one evening. His farm is large and livestock comprehensive with every food on his doorstep. He makes money out of his livestock and together with his feeble 80 pounds a month pension makes ends meet. Not a day goes by in the three seasons where free is gathered food for his animals from neighbouring community shared lands. Once a week the accumulation of muck is taken away by his horse and cart to one of the Skalitsa village municipal dumps, namely an allocated field up the road!

Rakia and wine was made on an industrial scale with his own distilling system in one of his outbuildings. I remember him taking me in to see his rakia making in action, he had 10 x 120 litre barrels full of sliva fermenting away, the fermenting fumes could have knock you out there and then!

Many an evening no matter what season he would come around with a small bottle of homemade rakia and tomatoes either fresh or bottled depending on the month and we'd sit in or out and just talk. It was the case that he considered my rakia better than his as by the end of the evening it was always my bottle of home made rakia that has seen it's way to the bottom and his untouched. It took quite a while to realize that he was a skilled master at poaching other's rakia by praising it! That's all part of his make up.

I always remember him asking me for 1000 leva for a Lada car as he said his horse was too old now - this was asked for not as a loan but a gift! He thought that this Englishman was lined with gold after seeing the inside of my house with what I thought was very humble personal belongings. Even until the day he passed away he was sure that I had more money than I needed and he never gave up asking me.

He used to swear a lot, I knew this solely from the tone of his voice, routine first thing in the morning and last thing at night and a sporadic basis in between these times. The reason being that his sheep and goats never did what he wanted. Most evenings he was chasing them up the path by my house trying to get them back into his pen and I often wondered in his wisdom why this wasn't solved many years ago. I asked him this very question and he would just shrug his shoulders and not give me an answer then carry on where he left off, yes he's Bulgarian alright!

Quite often when the flocks of sheep and goats come by and fleece off to their well trodden ground back home Dino would have forgotten to shut his big farm gate and flocks of sheep and goats wonder in his yard to eat his hard earned hay for his own herd. I used to watch this with humour from my kitchen window as I knew at any moment after, the swearing and cursing would start and the waving and beating of his stick to get them away from the free feed and back in to the road. Again, after all the years he has been here working why does this happen? I don't bother asking as I know what the answer will be...

The day before he passed away I was helping him pull up his broken water pump, service it and put it back down his well. This is the least I could do as it served me well when I had no water in the first few months here in Skalitsa. It now worked perfectly after six months of non operation. He was a very happy man at this point, he had his well water back and of course it didn't cost him anything to fix, even more reason to be happy.

He loved having his picture taken. The very first time I gave him a print of himself, (sitting on the rubble that had been dug out for my septic tank.) I went to his house a few months later at Christmas and in his living room this photograph was the only picture in the room sitting as the main feature on his side cabinet. This make you feel so humble about things you take for granted.

Dino was part and parcel of the character of the the street and now he's gone his cursing and nose for good opportunities to poach rakia will be missed. His companionship will be sorely missed but most of all the simple fact that you knew that he was there all the time, it may seem quite strange thing to say but that how it feels.

So as another chapter unfolds, the old population in villages are gradually being faded out and no one to carry on the farming tradition. Towns and Cities give the call of money to the new generations and you can hardly blame them for seeking a 'better' living for their families. Opportunities in towns, cities and other EU countries for that matter now are ever increasing and the villages leaving a void to be filled. These homes are turned into holiday or retirement homes for ex-pats in the main, others are bought and just left to rise in price but vacant.

I felt compelled to write about Dino and so I have but this epitaph could have been written for many other older generation Bulgarians in villages throughout the country.

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