Four Celebrations

Aderlez. May 6^th is Georgov Den (the name day of St. George) in Bulgaria. It has also become a national holiday that celebrates the liberation from the 500 years under the “Turkish yoke” (Ottoman empire). Gyovren, being a Turkish village, has their own version of the holiday called Aderlez. Aderlez is a mish mash of superstitions and traditions. Mainly, it is the occasion when the night battles with the day. It is also a personal indicator of how the summer will go for you (so, don’t oversleep, or you’ll oversleep all summer. Don’t be grumpy, or you’ll be grumpy all summer, etc.). The night before Aderlez, every family makes

kitki (small bouquets with a yellow flower called Iglika). Each bouquet is tied with string and marked with a distinctive trinket (a button, earring, ring, etc) so that everyone knows which is theirs. The kitki sit in a bowl of water outside overnight—in a place where they will be exposed to the moon. The next morning you should wake up (early, of course) and wash your face in the dew—it is supposed to have healing powers on this day. Next women gather together all the kitki and put them in a large bucket of water. As they sing Turkish songs, they pull each kitka out of the water. The line of the song that corresponded with the kitka’s emergence from the water will be the owner’s fortune for the year.

Mine, in case you’re wondering, was: There’s a boy on a distant hill who sees a girl and calls to her. She tells him to wait there and she will come to him. If I had a boyfriend in America, I would find this quite insightful.

Earth Day. Earth day may not have really been on Gyovren’s radar, but it was recognized in Bulgaria. Various groups in Sofia organized a large-scale cleanup that was well publicized on the national news and environmental conscious in general is gaining momentum. My friend Amber, a PCV in Smolyan, set up an on-line clean-up initiative that we joined in Gyovren. Basically, the idea was to clean up the town with a volunteer brigade and then weigh our trash at the end and enter the amount on the web site. This allowed us to see our own results, and also to feel connected to other places all over Bulgaria that were doing the same thing. Not surprisingly, all of the volunteers from Gyovren were kids. They were incredibly enthusiastic and we had a great time!

Potato planting. Potato planting is not an official holiday, but since the whole village starts their planting on the same day, it certainly had the aura of a celebration—or at least a large family reunion. Most of the potato fields are small, confusing plots, marked by boundary stones, which have been passed down from generations. Somehow, they sorted this back out after communist times. Each family has (or borrows) a horse/mule and plow to get their fields ready. This is the men’s work.Next, the women drop potatoes into the furrows (three at a time) and cover them using hoes. I worked with my landlords from 8am until 6:30 with a picnic lunch in the fields. The weather was superb.

Wedding. Weddings are a big deal in Gyovren. They’re expensive, and not every couple will choose to have one (by the way, the groom’s family pays for the wedding in Bulgaria—just a small incentive for me to get married here!). I have been to several Nikias (where the hoja marries the couple in the groom’s home), but this was my first time to experience the wedding celebration. The family prepares food for the entire village—plus all the people they invited who don’t live in the village. We’re talking about 1,000 people! A small wedding is simply not an option. The day before the wedding, I sat outside the groom’s home and peeled potatoes with over 25 other women. The day of the wedding, at 9:30, as I was putting on makeup, I heard clarinets squeaking and drums beating. The wedding procession, starting from the groom’s house, had begun. With musicians in front, they wind their way through the entire village on the way to the bride’s house. Once there, the groom has to “bribe” the bride’s family to enter the house and then has to find her hidden shoe before he can see her. I bet this tradition started because brides needed more time to get ready and these were excellent stall tactics. Now the bride and her family join the procession and they make their way to the court house where they will have the wedding. The musicians and family have towels, clothing, and other household items pinned to them to represent all the stuff that the bride is bringing to her new home. All the people from the village stand along the road to watch the parade. After the official wedding, the couple comes down the steps and the secretary of the mayor throws water on the steps in front of them for good luck. They dance some horo, and then make their way to the school where they have the celebration. At the school, they break bread before going inside (whoever gets the bigger piece will “command” the marriage). Close friends and family get their own procession with music to show off their gifts (including large pieces of furniture) which they bring to the school. At the school, everyone (really, everyone) is served lunch. All you can eat, three types of salad, soup, meatballs, and lots of drinks. Every hallway, every classroom, was filled with makeshift benches and tables. After lunch, the dancing begins. And goes on for a long time. Horo, slow dancing, kuchek. The bride, in her high heels, leads every horo. It’s as if her happiness and radiance is transferred down the line of people as we hold hands and move together. (Check out the slide show below to see all of this in pictures)