On Wednesday evening we are in the process of arranging a language class with the Fulbrighters. Unfortunately, the commission cut free lessons, so it is up to us to educate ourselves. I met up with Kathryn, and found out that the lesson was canceled this week. After a nice chat, I headed back home, a little sad that there would be no lesson for this week.
Walking down Vitosha Boulevard (named after the mountains) I saw some guys on stilts outside a store. Curious, I asked what was going on. The elves(?) were nice, and explained that there was an art gallery opening.
After watching for a bit, I decided that I should join in. I got myself a free glass of red wine, and then called Diane. She is teaching painting here in Sofia, so I figured she'd be interested in coming to the gallery. After some taxi problems, she arrived, and we switched over to white wine and explored the gallery.
The basement had art that I really liked. I told Diane that I didn't really understand art, but I know what I would want in my house, and what I wouldn't. She responded by saying that this is the most important part, and unless you are loaded, you should only buy art that you would want in your bedroom. This makes sense to me! We ran into a guy that works at a popular soup restaurant, and he introduced us to some other interesting people. Here is Diane with a Bulgarian artist- they have the same hats!
We also met an interesting guy named Jem. He was born in Bulgaria, but his family immigrated to the United States under communism. He also is ethnically Turk. After going to university in New York, he moved back to Bulgaria to work for the Movement for Rights and Freedoms. That's right! My political party! He is the press secretary, so hopefully I can work with him to find out more information about this party that has been, so far at least, elusive. He also had connections with Diane; they both worked with some artist in New York at some point. It definitely is a small world.
A couple of glasses of wine later, I found myself with a group of Italian guys who were living in Bulgaria. Although they spoke English, we were speaking Bulgarian together. I'm telling you, a couple of glasses of wine and going to an art gallery is way more effective of a language learning strategy than Bulgarian lessons! After the art gallery closed, a group of us went to an Irish pub for a beer, and by then it was near midnight and I was tuckered out. I e-mailed Jem the next day, but he still hasn't gotten back to me. I don't want to pester him with phone calls, but I would really love to get working on my project.