Fashion Explosion

Plovdiv, Bulgaria

Yes, it is very Euro, but Plovdiv is absolutely off the hook. Off the hizzy, true tight aight. It is the second largest city after Sophia, and rumored to be the cultural capital. I've never seen anything like this in my life - not in NYC or London or Paris or Rome. Every girl -- EVERY GIRL -- is dressed like they came off the runway, usually well put together but frequently on slut-time. Mothers with baby strollers, middle-aged women eating ice cream, 12 year old girls giggling on their cells. And they're literally wearing things that I have never even seen before. I always wondered who actually bought runway clothing, it is all here. Most of the main center of town is fashion boutiques and stores like Mavi and Diesel. There seem to be very few men at all, and their sense of fashion is nonexistent; the men must be confused, dressing like punk rockers or 80's hairband freaks with wristbands and capri pants. Scott declared that all you need to do is dress clean cut, maybe put on a nice shirt, and you're money. This is exactly one of those places where fashion magazines and Sports Illustrated discover their models.

So we wander the alleys and the main drags of outdoor cafes lined with chairs for people watching (not unlike Amsterdam). There are random ancient Roman amphitheatre ruins, and I stopped at one of the frequent casinos to drop a few levi on Blackjack. This town is all pros and no cons.

Crossing the border on a bus from Turkey to Bulgaria was entertaining. Security was not so tight and the Bulgarian border guard only gave us Americans a few gay jokes and little trouble. But the amazing part was the duty free cigarette smuggling ring. The bus company workers (3-4 per bus) stock up before the border, but are only allowed to bring a certain amount in. So what they do is distribute cartons of cigs throughout the bus - under everyone's seats - so when the dude with the flashlight hops aboard he can't do anything about it. Old women, young business men - EVERYONE freely and happily participates. Scott and I looked on in disbelief - why does nobody think it is wrong or immoral!? It is a mass campaign of disobedience and corruption among the common people, a sort of "we will all go down together" thing. Amazing. What a perfect entrance experience to Eastern Europe. It was just annoying to be delayed for cigarette smuggling at 4:30 am on a Sunday.

Bulgaria has less English speakers, but who cares. We found a sweet towny bar that plays mostly monster ballads or whatever we request (usually Black Crowes with some Hendrix thrown in). The bartender, Alexander, is a lawyer who finds plenty of work but nobody who can pay him, and so he continues to get by with a second job at the bar. Great guy, I felt bad for him. A pint is about 70 cents usually, and a good meal is a few dollars. Their beer, Kaminitza, is good, and I think the beer drinking will be picking up across eastern Europe. It has been pathetic recently. We're heading to Nesubur and Varna, resort towns on the Black Sea next.
Mom and Dad, I bought something in Turkey that will be coming in the mail from Bulgaria, so look out for a package. Don't get scared like the Morocco experience! The Turkish post has been privatized and it was much cheaper to send it here.

Our last days in Turkey were spent in Ephesus and Gallipoli. Ephesus was too touristy and I didn't enjoy it so much. Western cruise ships dock nearby and unload tours onto the grounds of the ancient ruins (former capital of Asia Minor after Persia was defeated by Alexander the Great). I had more fun hanging out in Selcuk (town) with carpet salesmen all day drinking chai, wandering the town market, eating cherries, and talking about surprisingly deep topics like capitalism and disintegration of traditional family structures, the artistic depth of Turkish carpets and kilims, and of course differences in women from different parts of the world. Marco and Emino taught me a lot more about Turkey, and I must rethink what I have said about how modern and Europeanized it is. It seems that the east of Turkey is a whole other experience, poor and much more loyal to Middle Eastern customs and a family way of life. Many people do not want to join Europe at all.

You can read and study forever in school, collecting MA's and BA's and JD's and Phd's like trophies, but you will never really begin to understand what is going on in the world until you travel.

Gallipoli is a rite of passage for Aussies and Kiwis. It is the Normandy experience for them, and they come in droves every March to honor the fallen ANZAC forces at cemeteries and memorials along the coast of the Dardanelles. Scott and I toured the small war museum and walked a few kilometers along the coast to ANZAC Cove, where the main landing occurred. We met a nice family with a son at Virginia Tech for engineering, and hitch-hiked back to the museum with a couple college guys who got out of the car to say goodbye in traditional Turkish style: kisses on both cheeks. My favorite part of Gallipoli was learning more about the making of Mustapha Kemal (Ataturk), a commander at the trenches of Gallipoli and father of the new Turkish nation after WWI. He had a great tribute speech in 1934, honoring the fallen ANZAC boys:

Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives... You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side now here in this country of ours... you, the mothers, who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land. They have become our sons as well.