Like a Sore Thumb

Since I've lived in Bratsigovo everytime I enter my apartment this cat tries to follow me in. I figured that this cat must belong to the person who lived there before me. The other day when I stepped out of the door to go for a walk, I discovered that this cat is a girl. She layed cuddled with her kittens up against my door. I shut the door carefully, not wanting to disturb them.

I take these walks all around town just about everday in the hopes that the locals will get use to me and not stare everytime I walk by. After seven months of being here, I'm still waiting. It's usually the old men that stare the most. Then, after I say hello to them, they call me a "goteen peech." I'm still not exactly sure what that means, but I think it's a compliment. Eventhough I know it has nothing to do with the fruit, I still feel uncomfortable being called a "peech" by an old man.

I know I stand out like a sore thumb in this small town. Especially when the cows stop to stare at me when I pass them by on the street. I'm not making this up. They let the Bulgarians walk by, but when I pass they stop and stare. At the same time I'm trying to find a a fence to hop or a tree to run up in case it decides to charge me. Nothing like a crazed fanatic cow coming after you.

Now I better understand what life as a celebrity is like in a small town setting.