Part 2
After lunch, which
included a shot of Rakia obviously. We high tailed it back to the center of
town where Kmiet awaited us. On our way there, Dan made a very true comment
about Bulgarian and Polish drinking culture. "There are only two occasions
on which you can drink," Dan remarked "When it's your birthday and
when it's not." Some people obviously take that statement too much to
heart, but wine and Rakia flow like water in Tsarevets, especially during
dinners and proper occasions. We headed into Kmiet's office which was up a
flight of stairs in the central building.
Once in his office
we did what any self-respecting adults did. We rang the old fashioned bell that
was stood on his shelf and looked at maps of what were not the village, and one
that was the village. Finally on the way out, the mayor points to the carpets
on the floor and the waiting couch outside his office, saying he donated them
out of his own pocket. Kmiet in fact receives little in the amount of a budget
and so more often than not has to either donate his own or look for funders.
Across from the central building and just opposite the monument is the 130 year
old church and behind that an 800 year old monastery. You can only access the
buildings with the keys, which are stored at Kmiet's office, so we essentially
got the guided tour.
The church, which
is over a century old, is built from foundation to roof out of stone bricks and
slabs. These are not just small little pieces of stone; this is not a red brick
house idea. These stones can be half a meter thick and twice as long. Two men
if not more would be required to move these buggers. All the stone is white or
tanned beige by years in the sun and everything but the roof is made from it. Columns
that you can't even wrap your arms around have been carved out of a single
piece of large stone and then mounted here. The church in itself is not massive
nor is it architecturally stunning, apart from the domed roof and the columns, it
is only four walls that go up about 2 stories. Yet when you think about the
work that was required to cut the stone perfectly straight or curved or into a
single column, you have to take a step back and say wow. Especially over a
century ago. This church was built to stand and stand it will compared to the
crumbling houses surrounding it.
Inside we walk in
on what seems to be the remains of a ritual. Several chairs were placed in a
square in the center of the room, under the domed roof and each of these chairs
were toppled over in the exact same way. Was this an ancient Bulgarian ritual
performed to protect the village from vampires and those who fantasize about
them? Perhaps the summoning of a Bulgarian demon gone terribly wrong. Or did
the wind just knock the chairs over even though there was no draught. If the
door was locked and there is only one key, who got inside and how? This could
obviously not have been just sloppy house cleaning…. Cue X-files Theme.
Back to
seriousness. The insides of the church were covered in murals and the ceiling
was painted with little yellow stars all over. When you first enter the church,
when not distracted by toppled over chairs, you see directly in front of you, a
large wooden wall that reaches almost to the ceiling. On this wooden wall are
painted Jesus and various other saints that I will never be able to name and
won't begin to try. That doesn't stop me from appreciating the art and skill
that went into building and painting this church. I have always been a sucker
to appreciate the art that comes with religious sites, even if I am not a fan
of their context.
Behind the wooden
wall would be where the priest would sit and count his donations… sorry, I
meant be holy and boil the holy water for holy tea. In my defense there was a
donations box behind the wooden wall as well as rusted and forgotten coins. The
church itself is seldom used. Once in a while –and it is becoming more frequent
unfortunately- you will hear the bell toll for a full day, signifying a death
in the village. Those who die are taken to the grave yard, which is not
adjacent to the church. What is in the church, as you leave, elevated above you
are the pictures of all those who have recently died in the village. Included
on there was Kmiet's wife. The constant reminder must be a pain for the poor
man.
After exiting the
church, we walk around it to the back of this property to what would look like,
to the untrained eye, an old shack. Walking closer to this apparent shack, you
discover that the roof is not made out of some dark rotting wood, but instead
is made from dark flat two inch thick stones. It is a very uncommon site in
Bulgaria, let alone in the village, and Kmiet has commented saying that the
last people who knew how to create a roof like this have already died. This
stone plated building is only one room large and is barely taller than three
meters. This is an 800 year old and ancient monastery that is officially
protected by the Bulgarian government. Kmiet has hinted at ideas of trying to
turn it into a UNESCO site, but who knows what the future will hold.
The inside of the monastery
is quite dark, there are several light bulbs that can be turned on to
illuminate it but there is only one square sized window opposite the entrance
and a few slits in the wall on the side of the building. Antique murals
decorate the walls inside the monastery, all of which have become faded with
time. Most depict saints, Jesus, his disciples, the mother Mary and several
angles. The usual in Christian churches. A reminder though, that Bulgaria is
predominately Russian orthodox and has been for centuries even during Ottoman
rule. Yet it is the fact that the building and its art inside have survived the
fall of the Bulgarian empires, Ottoman rule, two World Wars and Balkan wars,
the rise and fall of communism and now modern day Bulgaria. This hidden gem
will probably survive longer than the village itself.
Buildings are
strong reminders of the past but knowledge is the most persistent legacy we as
a people leave behind. Family, stories, local legends, those we helped and those
we rivaled everything we bought and even ourselves will turn to dust and be
forgotten. It is those that bestow upon the world some form of new logic, new
thinking, and new piece of work that will stand the tests of time. What will be
said for the future, when people perhaps look and travel to the stars and leave
behind an abandoned uninhabitable planet?
The buildings will remain and turn to
ash, but knowledge will always prevail so long as there are people to wield it.
And so, even though I am witnessing the death of a generation, so long as their
knowledge and experiences are transferred from one generation to the next, all
is not lost, but instead everything is gained and we can build on top of a
solid foundation. Or as Newton said, stand on the shoulders of giants. Perhaps
that is my main reason for writing what I write, in the hope that not all this
knowledge and experience from the dying generation and my own, are not lost in
the vacuum that is time…..
PS: What do you
think is larger, the amount of time that has elapsed in the universe or the
amount of time left in the universe?
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