A Street at the Wrong Time and the Wrong Place, Ivanka, Vurshets

2006-04-21T20:06:00Z

I live in the main street. “Republica”. It used to be called “Gheorghi Dimitrov”* during communism. Living here is like living at the wrong time at the wrong place.

In the thirties it was planted with plane trees which everybody is “very proud of”. Around this time electricity was also brought to the street, direct from King Boris’ power plant in Euxenograd. They did it because Vurshets is a spa town.

Everybody who comes to Vurshets says that my street is beautiful. But it means nothing to the people from town. We take it as a given!!!

The drivers hate it because the many holes in it ruin their cars; the sweepers hate it because of the billions and billions of tree leaves they have to sweep every day; the few young people who have stayed in town say “it really sucks”. Stray dogs cross it this way and the other, tourists curse when they find themselves stepping into the excrements of horses, goats and other animals grazing nearby… Only the pensioners, the majority of people living in Vurshets, like to meet here and talk politics.

My street is the witness of base passions, of poverty, misery, “decorum”, of love, hate, children’s laughter, friendship, broken relationships, the tears of rainy days, and gossip – the favourite activity of most of us, of hypocrisy…

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A Street at the Wrong Time and the Wrong Place, Ivanka, Vurshets