We went to London!

And…

We’ll…

Blog…

About…

It…

Soon.

Byee,

Love Stu and Elly.

It was one of those ‘if only I’d gotten the camera out moments earlier’ moments.

You might remember this post where we described how half of Haskovo’s charming power plant disappeared on us? Well, the other day I happened to be out on the balcony (not a common occurrence in winter!) when I heard this great boom like a thunder clap. I looked around to see the power plant’s 30m-high concrete smoke stack toppling over!

The image will stick in my memory forever! And the sound of its collapse was amazing (once it reached us)!

Here is a video I took of the aftermath. I apologise that it’s essentially pointless – in that I missed all the action and all you can see is the cloud of dust rising up from where it fell – but perhaps I captured some of the coolness of it.

Enjoy?

Cheers,

Stu.

Today (as long as you’re reading this hot-off-the-press on Thursday!) marks 2 months until we leave Bulgaria! So we’re continuing the list of things we’re not so keen to lose:

The following continues on from this post.

5. Not being understood: why is this a good thing? Well, for two reasons, both of which are devious! Firstly, having the ability to conduct private conversations in public can be quite handy! You know, important matters like: “Darling, you have a large piece of spinach stuck between your front teeth”, or “Don’t you think she’s a bit old to dress like her daughter?”, or “I’m a bit tired and bored, how about we make our excuses and leave?”. Secondly, once you’re used to the fact that no one is speaking a language you can understand, you simply tune them out. It’s great! No need to turn around to see why that dude behind you is yelling… he’s almost certainly not yelling in your direction! And when we go out for a coffee, the many murmurs in Bulgarian mingle together into a strange kind of white noise that’s very conducive to the kind of introspective conversations that Elly and I keep finding ourselves having lately!

We’ve been wondering what it’ll be like when we get back to Australia. Will we cope with suddenly not being able to block out all the noise? Or will we accidentally ignore people? Who knows.

6. Non-processed food: actually, Bulgarians LOVE their nasty, stale, preservative-laden processed foods! The supermarkets here are laden with such wonderful goods as: packets of cooked sausages (hellooo killer bacteria!), individually packaged (stale) croissants piped full of sickly strawberry goo, cheap chocolate bars full of cocoa-less ‘chocolate’, dubious flavours of soft drink (pictured above)… the list goes on. However, it’s also quite easy to avoid all that rubbish and we have really been enjoying doing so over here! Fruit and vegetables are cheap, as are dried beans (our new staple!), white cheese, rice and pasta. Eating out is healthier too – ‘fast food’ doesn’t really exist here, so it’s more likely to be traditional Bulgarian fare (stodgy but authentic). I would say “I hope we keep it up when we go back to Australia”, but the above basically describes what we preferred to eat anyway – except that in Australia there’s no financial incentive to buy non-processed food. I think Coles and Woollies have a secret tax on eating healthily!

7. Europeness: I suspect we Australians subconsciously or otherwise consider Europe to be altogether more authentic, or sophisticated, and truly beautiful than Ausland. If someone had told me that a year ago I would have laughed (bitterly!) in their face(s), but having spent our time here I realise that I came to Europe with that very notion tucked away in my head somewhere. The feeling first showed itself when I first entered this shady pine forest underneath Mt. Vitosha – but other might have experienced it as they walk through the doors of Chanel in Paris or Gucci in Florence*. It’s a feeling that leaves you saying “Oh yeah, I’m in Europe, baby!”. I’m afraid to say that it is cool to be in Europe, after all.

[* An additional example might be drinking cappuccinos in Venice... in saying that, I give "told you so" rights to my sister Sal, who I once mocked for her glowing (and allegedly frequent) reports of the quality of coffee in Italy!]

8. A clear and uncomplicated purpose: this one is a bit more philosophical. Around October 2008 when we made the decision to come to Bulgaria we were filled with a near-euphoric sense of purpose. I’m sure others have felt the same thing at various times in their lives – witnessing the birth of their child; accepting an amazing job offer; buying a house; deciding to follow Jesus, etc. I remember feeling lucky that I knew what the next 18 months of my life would look like (it certainly satisfied the control freak in me! For about 5 minutes).

Something of that feeling has stayed with us during our time here. Which is not to say that we haven’t struggled, or found teaching Aydin or learning Turkish difficult – but we retained the luxury of knowing what we’re here for and how long we’re required.

I have two observations about this; forgive me if they contradict each other. On the one hand, if I were asked to narrow down what I’ve learned from our experience to one thing, it would be this: that we’ve been privileged to see through David and Kathryn (and several other missionary families) what a life lived with a singular sense of purpose can achieve! What we hope to bring home is a sense that ‘we’ (meaning, ‘we mere mortals’) can live our lives with some of the same purpose. Not in the sense of striving to be over-achievers, but in the sense of living intentionally. In other words, I’d like to put more thought into how I spend my time – which includes re-evaluating how much of that time I designate “mine”.

On the other hand, sometimes desiring to find a purpose can distract us from simpler things. What I mean is that God moves in mysterious ways and we don’t always see what his purposes are – and so our own sense of purpose often has nothing to do with it! Elly and I think that’s true with our trip to Bulgaria. We certainly felt called to be here, and had that sense of purpose that I described. And we know that God used us to help the Richards’ at the perfect time. But what will we take home from it? Well, we’re not returning to missionary college – though that was a possibility before we left Australia. Neither are we returning to Australia to employ our skills in teaching 6-year-olds, or speaking Turkish. In fact, we can’t really pinpoint what it is that we’ll take from our experience here – personal growth, God’s timing, something we may never know. What we do know is that it’ll be good for us.

Eww. And before I get all mushy, I’m outta here!

Cheers

Stu.