3/1 The Killer Fanta

      Well in the past week I have hit 6 countries and their capitols in a long journey to visit my friend John Ruggini who is doing the Peace Corps in Bulgaria.

      Despite my vast (well sort-of vast) knowledge of South-Eastern Europe, I had no idea it would be so tough to get to Razgrad, a small city of 50,000 people in north western Bulgarian. To begin with, there are no flights from Slovenia to Bulgaria without connecting in Germany (take a look at a map, this is absurd) so the only option was a train and/or bus.

      The prudent way to get to Bulgaria from Ljubljana is a train through Zagreb, Croatia to Budapest, Hungary and on to Bucharest, Romania and then to Bulgaria. However this was more expensive and a longer route than the "short cut" through Belgrade, Yugoslavia. I heard Belgrade is nice this time of the year, so what the hell.

      Even through Yugoslavia it is a 36 hour trip, but life is supposed to be an adventure so I boarded the train ready for the ride. However, I did not know was that you need a visa to go through Yugoslavia (it is one of the few countries where Americans need transit visas, I think the others are Iraq, North Korea, and China.) So when the train stopped in Tovarnik, Serbia (part of Yugoslavia) the boarder police promptly took me off the train and into the police station. I thought perhaps if I asked nicely they might let me thought their country ... but I had no such luck.

      The Serbs were nice enough people, they told me I had to go back to Croatia, try to get a visa and then I could come back. Apparently there is a Yugolslav embassy in Vukovar, Croatia. They offered me Fanta and I waited a few hours for the next train to Croatia.

      I was mildly scared as I sat in the police station in Serbia, I was thinking to myself, what the hell am I doing here? Didn't Gore really win this election? Shouldn't I be back in DC now? But alas, I was in a cold police station and it would soon be dark.

      Finally the train came, I rushed to leave, but the officer told me to finish my Fanta before I left. I get back on the train station headed for Vinkovci, Croatia. As I sat on the train leaving Serbia, it occurred to me that I could have easily been poisoned by the police. Did any of them drink the Fanta? Why did he insist I finish the Fanta?? Hadn't I read somewhere that tourist were be poisoned by Fanta in Kosovo???

      I arrived at 6 PM in Vinkovci, Croatia. It is such a small town in which only three people spoke English, and no one in the train station knew if the town even had a hotel. After a little searching and a lot of luck, I found the hotel that the away soccer teams stay at when they are in town. I even managed to learn the bus schedule to Vukovar. As I fell asleep I began to wonder if the Fanta would do me in, would I die in an unknown town in Croatia from Fanta?

      Six in the morning I woke up relieved that the Fanta was just the off-the-shelf brand and not the kill-the-American version and I was on the way to Vukovar. I didn't know much about Vukovar before I got on the bus, but I remembered when I used to work for OSCE in Mostar that OSCE also had an office in Vukovar. And, I sort-of remember the town was in really bad shape due to the war. As the bus neared the city center, the details of the conflict returned to my memory. Vukovar was a largely Serb town that Croatia managed to keep during the war due to a whole lot of bombs and guns - nearly five years after the conflict the town was still ruined.

      Albeit a small town, it made sense that Yugoslavia would have a consult here. Everyone who entered Yugoslavia needed a visa, and there were a lot of Croatian Serbs living here needed visas to visit family, or on rare occasion, to do business. So many people, in fact, that when I showed at the embassy at 8 AM, there was a line nearly 80 people long, and the doors didn't even open till 9. As I approached the embassy a group of young people approached me offering to sell me their place in line. Twenty-year-olds in Vukovar who cannot find a job (because there are simply no jobs in this town) get up at 2 AM and sell their front places in line to those who can afford it.

      While I could think of a dozen better uses for 30 Dm than giving it to an unemployed, English speaking Croatian Serb, I figured it would be good to make a new friend who could help me out. He told me a lot about Vukovar and we talked about the NBA (Allen Iverson is his favorite!) He was so amazed I was in his city he kept saying "Who would imagine, an American in Vukovar!" When it came close to 9 he even filled out my paperwork, however he could not go inside the consulate with me.

      When I got inside I regretted to find out that no one in the Yugoslavia embassy spoke English, I was forced to use my broken knowledge of French and limited knowledge of Serbian to try to explain why I wanted to go to Bulgaria. Needless to say conversation was not simple, and he told me to sit outside in the cold and wait till 11:00 AM.

      Finally called back inside and told for $50 I could go through Serbia - what a rip off! - however, I accepted and I was back on my route. When I finally got back on the train, I had the good fortune to sit next to the only other American going to Belgrade. He ended up giving me a tour of Belgrade at night, and we had a nice dinner and ice cream in Belgrade. It really is a very cool city that takes its movies and its fashion very seriously. I could of stayed longer, but by midnight I was back on the train headed to Sophia, Bulgaria.

      I met a Bulgarian on the train in my sleeper car who did not speak a word of English, but insisted on talking to me as if I understood everything he said. (Where is the poisonous Fanta when you need it?) This was very annoying until I started playing a game where I would make up funny phrases in my head for what he said. For example, when we woke up the next morning he just started talking right away. He was probably saying "Good morning, we will be in Sophia soon, etc." But what I heard him say was "Hello, I wet my bed last night and had a dream that I was a purple monkey." I found this to be a fun game while traveling in trains.

      I finally arrived in Sophia two days after I left Ljubljana and I still needed to get on a 5 hour bus to Razgrad - and I needed to find the US Embassy and Yugoslav embassy to get a visa to go back home. Well Sophia basically sucks. It snowed, the US Embassy told me to go away, and the Yugoslav embassy told me to come back later. Before I had any other time for failure in the dirty capitol of Bulgaria, I got on a bus to Razgrad.

      Finally, I was met by John Ruggini in Razgrad and I am excited to report he is doing well. He lives in a nice apartment that could use a little more hot water and a lot more heat but he really seems to be doing a lot of good work there. The Peace Corps is undoubtably a unique organization (just try explaining it to locals, even those who speak perfect English) but without question John is making a difference in this small city in Bulgaria. I saw him teach his coworkers in the regional administration how to use the Internet with a power point presentation he put together (all in Bulgarian, none of it with the Latin alphabet). He has told me about his English classes he teaches and I saw some of the regional development activities he has with a local NGO. Among countless other things, John is working to improve the lives of farmers and bee keepers in Bulgaria, improve the local symphony and help Razgrad artists. It is by no means glamorous, and I didn't really leave feeling envious, but it is definitely inspiring.

      Outside of work I was able to meet his girlfriend, Jennie, another Peace Corps volunteer who lives a few hours away. They showed me pictures of all the little trips they have been on and spoke excitedly about the $10 raise they received (a month, not an hour). She is a very cool girl, and I think has made the world of a difference to John in the past 18 months. I also watched John playing soccer, which he does every weekend. John wowed his American fans with a five goal performance, despite scoring an additional two goals for the other team. It was a fun weekend.

      Finally it was time for me to head home, and I chose to take the scenic route back, through Bucharest, Romania and onto Budapest, Hungary. I had 6 hours to tour Budapest, and I answered the age-old question that I had asked myself when I was 6 years old, "If was hungry in Hungary, where would I eat?" As I child I probably would have answered - at the largest Burger King in the world, of course, which is located in Budapest - but as a more mature (and vegetarian) adult, I chose Pizza Hut.

      Finally, I was on the night train back to Ljubljana which leaves me with one last story.

      I had never really believed in guardian angels till that train trip home, while I always trusted in God, the whole Angel thing was too much for me. But after passing the final boarder into Slovenia at 1:30 AM, all I had to do was stay awake until 3:10. I got out my palm pilot to set my alarm for 3:00, but before I could even set the alarm I fell fast asleep. Palm pilot in hand, door of cabin open with lights on and bag available for the taking.

      All of a sudden I woke up for no reason what so ever and looked out the window - we were at a train station but I did not know where. The clock said 3:45! I ran out of th cabin to see if this was Ljubljana, a few people nodded yes and I ran back to my cabin to get my stuff - but it was all gone!! - actually, I was in the wrong cabin - I grabbed all my stuff and jumped off the train as it was pulling away. It was a very surreal moment and I really wonder how I woke up (and how I managed not being robbed.)

      As I walked home in a complete daze, everyone was dressed up in wild costumes, Pipi Longstocking and Bumble Bees, folk heroes and monsters. It was 4:00 AM and the sidewalks had drunk locals walking around in costumes. I felt as if I had been drugged on the train.

      It wasn't till the next day I learned that’s how Slovenians celebrate Mardi Gras and as I spelt in the comfort of the apartment in Ljubljana I was able to reflect on a very fun week with way too much travel and once again be thankful that I am taking time for myself and making the most of my break.

      That is all for my stories now - wow that was a long one. Next week Courtney and I are off to Mostar, Bosnia. I'll be sure to send another email after we return - and next time shorter!