Friends и komrades, Greetings and salutations! No, please, save the applause until the end. This blog has lay dormant for many a moon, as I've been rushing hither and tither across the windswept waves and yellow foam of the Bosphorous, throwing down gerunds and infinitives like a gangbanger on an inner-city playground. So, what has transpired in my five mum months? Well, aside from being paid ridiculous amounts of money in exchange for wagging my tongue in ways only we native English speakers do, not a whole hell of a lot.
Winter kept me warm,
covering Istanbul in forgetful snow,
feeding a little life with kuruyemis and salep.
Summer surprised me,
coming up over the Bosphorous with a shower of rain;
I stopped in Sirkeci, and went on in sunlight,
into Gar Pub, and drank Efes for an hour.
Bin gar keine Amerikan, stamm' aus Istanbul, echt Turk!
But, alas, perhaps 'tis not meant to be. For first, my plans to travel south were foiled at the outset by my former home, the good ol' crusading USA. As it were, Syria don't give no love to the yanks. Having said that, the fact that I was a legal resident of Turkey would have allowed me to get a visa, save for one critical detail. Notice that I said was. Once again, I am a citizen of the world - homeless and free (what's the difference?). I had the choice to either spend 500 Lira and renew my residence permit in a country where I may or may not stay for the forseeable future, or scrap my plans for the Middle East and head back to the land of cheap beer and clouds - Bulgaria.
Thus, I am lost yet again in the Sunny Beaches and Golden Sands of your favorite ex-Soviet satellite and mine, Bulgaria! For those of you with limited knowledge about this Eden among the Eastern Bloc, let me elucidate a bit. Република България is a fantastic and eclectic mix of history and culture, having been occupied by nearly everyone (except the French, big surprise!), yet never relinquishing their unique spirit, which largely involves ingesting huge amounts of pork and shaking their heads no when they mean yes. Walking down the street, one can hear colorful conversations in such exotic languages as... English... and, if one is lucky, that particular brand of British English which consists nearly exclusively of the words "pissed, muppet and shag". Yes, Easyjet flies here...
Bulgaria's lucky neighbors are: Romania, Europe's largest exporter of WILD FUCKING RABID DOGS; Serbia, who still vehemently denies committing Europe's latest (but not least) episode of mass genocide; Macedonia, who really wants to be a country of its own, and succeeds only in as far as nobody really gives a shit; Greece, Europe's golden boy, the only Balkan country who is actually profiting from EU membership; and Turkey, of whom I have talked at length in previous correspondence, and will bore you no further with except to give a big shoutout to my scarf wearing bitches (Hell yeah! Rock that newly-permitted token of oppressive Islamic culture in your own mad way! AKP Rules!). (Note: All Turkish women reading this should please understand the intricacies of American countercultural language and understand that the previous statements were in no way intended to offend anyone, whether they choose to cover their head in deference of their closed-minded masochistic society or not. Thank you.)
Bulgaria's area is 110,000 square kilometers (42,823 square miles for you yanks), and the population is 7,262,675, having dropped nearly 700,000 since EU membership, which accounts for all the recently hired Tesco employees and whores in London's Soho district. The GDP is 
almost $93,000,000,000, which seems like a lot, until you look at it per capita, which falls just short of $6,000. Oh, yes, the average Bulgarian wage really is just over $100 a week. But when you figure in the fact that I'm drinking from a two-dollar two-liter bottle of quality beer right now, you'll see that life here can be oooooooohhhhh so sweet...
almost $93,000,000,000, which seems like a lot, until you look at it per capita, which falls just short of $6,000. Oh, yes, the average Bulgarian wage really is just over $100 a week. But when you figure in the fact that I'm drinking from a two-dollar two-liter bottle of quality beer right now, you'll see that life here can be oooooooohhhhh so sweet... So, what am I doing here? Filling up on cheap liquor and fresh, fresh dead pig before I take the slow train back into the city formerly known as Constantinople? No, no. It seems as if I and the Ottoman Empire have finally decided to part ways, albeit it a few months later than I had originally thought (as I suspected, my coffers were getting too full to depart).
My company is doing well (on paper at least. The Turks don't really like to pay promptly, if at all), and although my students are truly wonderful and esteemed alcoholics (never have I made so much money in the pub), every fiber of my being says that my time in that part of the world is, at least for the moment, finished. He, приятели, I am currently seeking gainful employment in this most excellent of forgotten countries. The gainful bit, however, is doubtful (remember the GDP?), and I am, at the moment, satisfying myself with beer and beach.
I have, however, found a tentative job here, though it does require teaching... erm... children. Now, the money is right, certainly for this country, and the location is right (cigarette breaks on the beach, anyone?), but can I really stomach teaching halfway-developed humans again (I mean kids, not Turks). My interview is tomorrow, and if all goes well, I'll be looking for a flat soon here in BAPHA!
And what's my long term plan? Well, those of you who know me (all of you, to varying degrees), should know (or have learned by now) that I don't really go for long term plans. I'm here, yani. If Bulgaria doesn't work out, I'm going to go in a different direction. Thus far, I've cleverly narrowed my options down to four - North, South, East, and West. To be honest, I'm leaning towards Poland at the moment, but who knows? My new plan is to go where the ratio of salary to cost of beer is the most favorable (i.e. no more Muslim countries).
Friends, my monkey is tired now, and it's almost time to head back to the store for my 3rd two-liter of beer, so I'll take my leave of you all now. Once again, I thank you all for your continued support in this now fourth year of my exile, and I sincerely hope that none of you die before I get a chance to see you again.
