A Street where Life is Neither Black, Nor White, Ralitsa Naydenova, Vurshets

Posted by maria dimitrova 21-04-2006

I love my street, I grew up here, but…

I hate the mornings, I hate the afternoons… The evenings are a bit more bearable. You would ask why?... I’ll tell you.

People in the old days were different. They helped each other and struggled for a better life in the neighbourhood. But everybody has withdrawn to their shell now. My neighbours and I don’t go beyond saying ‘Hi’ to each other. I don’t really have much time for them – silent old men and women. They only open their mouths to gossip.

The two gossip points in my street are the bench by the local kiosk and the front of Baba Mitka’s house. You can sit there and watch life go by. The people who attend regularly are Chicho Bozhan, the kiosk’s owner, and Baba Mitka herself. You can also sometimes see Botev, Licho Zekata and Pepi the German. These three are odd ones...

The most impressive buildings in my street are the baking factory and two little godforsaken houses which are falling apart, waiting for their last hour.

Not far from my house is the largest Orthodox temple in Northwestern Bulgaria – the St. George Church. Baba Ruska comes to the bell tower at 7.00 o’clock in the morning to ring the church bell and announce exact time to the town.

Life in my street is neither black, nor white. If you are sad, there is always someone to make you laugh; if you are happy, there is always someone to make you cry.

To see Ralitsa's pictures click here