Bulgaria_Jason D Ham_

China Travels :: Bulgaria/Macedonia :: Argentina

NOTE: This is about a 30-minute read. Plan accordingly!

ANOTHER NOTE: To save time, if you just want to read the portion about Bulgaria and Macedonia, then scroll down to July 14th.

Trip Journal – Hungary, Bulgaria, and Macedonia

I have developed a habit of trying to chronicle my various endeavors traveling as a performer, not only for the hope of remembering specific details of trips, but also for the reason that I feel that these memoirs can serve to inspire others as to the growing popularity of the euphonium.

Friday, July 8th, 2005
I don’t know how I seem to always end up traveling in weird circumstances when I am going to and from various performing events, but this time has most certainly been no different. My trip began late on Thursday night, July 7, 2005 as smoothly as can be expected, given the fact that London had been bombed earlier in the day. I will never forget the sensation of watching the late-night news anchors in New York correspond with London reporters who held up the first copies of the Friday morning British papers, only to find myself with one of those papers in-hand just a few hours later in London.

But, alas, knowing that the three connections I was to have on the way to Sofia, Bulgaria couldn’t all go smoothly, getting out of London was another story. Running a full hour behind, by the time I arrived in Vienna, the connection flight to Sofia was gone, and I was suddenly stuck in Austria. A short time later, however, I managed to make some Bulgarian friends who had also found themselves in my situation, as they had pressing needs to get to Sofia. I remember seeing the face of Denise in Vienna, as her expression told me that she really needed to make our now-gone connection to Sofia. I later found out that she was on the way to her grandfather’s funeral, set to begin the next morning in Sofia.

Before long, however, we found ourselves in Budapest, Hungary, making another connection to Sofia. The irony here existed around the fact that only 16 hours after I landed in Budapest, I was set to return to the same city, for a scheduled performance at the Hungarian Baptist Church in Budapest, as well as with the Budapest Brass Quintet on Monday, July 11th. Nevertheless, I did finally arrive into Sofia, at 1:40am on Saturday, July 9, 2005, where I met my accompanist, Boyan Kolarov, and his girlfriend, Gordana, who had done a large part of the scheduling of our performances.

I was fascinated to discover Sofia was quite the party-town, as sections of the city seemed to be in the middle of their celebrations, even at 2am on a Sunday night. It was interesting to discover that the central location of the festivities seemed to be right around the government buildings in downtown Sofia. Nevertheless, about 15 minutes later, I finally arrived at the Kolarov home, just in time to wake the family bulldog from her nap. (Bad idea.) After we convinced her that I wasn’t dinner (and that was difficult with a last name like “Ham”), it was off to bed – finally!

Saturday, July 9, 2005
I think I rolled out of the bed around 12:30pm before I even realized what day it was. The only thing I do remember was Boyan knocking on my door sometime around then to tell me that breakfast was served. Minutes later, I was on the porch overlooking the western suburbs of Sofia, munching on a fine pastry, filled with cranberrys, walnuts, and a healthy portion of sugar.

After about an hour talking over the upcoming events with Boyan and Gordana, it was time for me to re-pack for the trip back to Budapest. By 3pm, I was back on the road with them both, on the way to the airport in Sofia for my 4:10pm flight.

When I landed in Budapest at 4:45, it dawned on me that I had gained an hour by again crossing in to the Central European time zone. (I later calculated that I crossed over the Central European Time Zone/Eastern European Time Zone line 6 times in two weeks!) Nevertheless, I quickly hailed a taxi and was off to the center of Budapest to my hotel.

I couldn’t have been more pleased with my choice of hotel. Tucked away on the third floor of a building near the very heart of the city, the Leo Panzio hotel only had 12 rooms, yet it was perfect comfort at a good rate. The more I travel, the more I am convinced that the accommodations that you are in effect the entire perception you have of a place. Perhaps this is why I enjoyed my trip to Budapest so much more on this trip than when I was here a year ago.

After a quick drop-off of my stuff at the hotel, I was off to the Liszt Academy to at least make the attempt to practice. (It is always a frustrating thing to loose so much time in travel and not get to keep your practice chops up. I find that one full 24-hour day of travel off from the horn can really be a bother!) Nevertheless, I did get into the academy on my first try, and was delighted when I found an open room overlooking the side streets around the academy. An hour later, however, I was ushered out of the room, as it was now 8:00pm, and the Academy was closing.

Back out in Budapest, I soon found my way back to the hotel. Dropping off my horn in the room, I was back out on the street minutes later looking for a good meal. Rest assured, I found it – just steps away from my hotel was an awesome restaurant where gypsy music filled the air and some truly amazing Hungarian food filled my table. I am convinced that the Hungarians don’t know how to make a bad meal.

Completely exhausted from walking all over the city, I returned to the hotel to find that Imre Patkai, the accompanist at the Hungarian Baptist Church of Budapest, had called. He told me to meet him at the southern-most train station on the blue line of the Metro at 8:15 the next morning so that we could rehearse our works for the service at 10.

As it was already past 10 in the evening, I willingly fell asleep.

Sunday, July 10th, 2005
I somehow managed to get up with enough time to enjoy the morning that was taking place outside my hotel room window. There is something amazing about Europe in the early morning; it seems as though history comes alive as the sun hits the old buildings in a place like Budapest.

Somehow, I managed to get on the train earlier than expected for the 20-minute ride to the station where I was to meet Imre. As I was to meet him at 8:15, it was indeed a surprise to me when I arrived at the station at 7:45. Still in my enjoy-the-morning mood, I thought it best to wait outside in the plaza adjoining the train station. Perhaps the most exciting moment of the wait happened when I saw a half-contious drunk man being rolled off a bus (literally) and dumped onto the sidewalk right before me. When he finally came-to, after a brief time making friends elsewhere in the plaza, of course, he soon found me and started a conversation. Of course, I immediately told him that I didn’t speak Hungarian at all, but this was of no consequence. He still managed to tell me some narrative in the 10 minutes he spoke to me in Hungarian (and blessed me with his wonderful breath. I actually think my own blood-alcohol level went up as he spoke to me.)

Imre and I somehow missed each other for nearly 40 minutes, as we didn’t bump into each other until almost 8:40. When we did finally meet, he told me that he had arrived at 8:00, and had thought that something had surely happened to me. Nevertheless, we found ourselves at the church just shy of 9:00, and with Imre having to play for a service at 9 and 10am, our planned rehearsal got scrapped.

I did manage to finally get in a decent warm-up prior to the service, in a small room located in the educational portion of the church. What a relief it was to be in church again, not only because I was finally getting to play! By the time 10:00 rolled around, the church was about 2/3 full, and Imre and I were still trying to decide what to play. Eventually, we decided to play John Golland’s “Peace”, Giuseppe Giordani’s “Caro Mio Ben”, and a hymn medley that we assembled moments before the start of the service. I must say that it is nice to hand music to an accompanist and not worry about the performance of it, even without a single rehearsal. Even sight-reading the music as he was, Imre was still flawless. He is just that good.

After the service, I had the chance to mingle with the worshippers, but not before the pastor had asked us to play one more hymn. What a joy it is to share the language of music with people, even those who speak a spoken language nothing like your own! Nevertheless, I did get to speak with a few of the people after the service, and some seemed to be genuinely touched that I had made the effort to come to see them a year later, and they expressed that they fully expected to see me in July, 2006, for the third straight year!

When Imre returned me to the hotel around noon, I was beginning to wonder about how I would get together with the Budapest Brass Quintet for a rehearsal. After all, we were supposed to give a concert the next night! Finally, around mid-afternoon, I received a message from Janos Mazura, the tuba player who was supposed to play in the Budapest Brass Quintet (and the host of the 2004 International Tuba and Euphonium Conference). I only say “supposed” because Janos managed to punch a computer screen a few weeks earlier and had since found his hand in a cast. At any rate, the message from Janos was that the concert for Monday night had been cancelled, and that he had sent his most sincere apologies.

I soon called Janos, and we agreed to meet for dinner that night anyway. Out in the square outside the hotel, at about 6pm, we met. It was nice to immediately speak with Janos as if he were a long-lost friend. (What is this connection between tuba and euphonium players world-wide?) About 30 minutes later, we were sitting down to a great meal at another one of Budapest’s fantastic collection of restaurants, and discussing a potential return trip for me to the city. Of course, I am always up for this, as Budapest seems to really be one of Europe’s gems!

Following our meal, Janos and I took a walk up the hill overlooking the Elizabeth Bridge and the Danube River on the Buda side of Budapest. (For those who’ve never seen a map of this city, Budapest is divided into two sections by the Danube River – Buda on the west, and Pest on the east.) As we wound our way up the roads to the top of this overlook, Janos told me that these were the paths that he used to play on as a boy. It was amazing to hear him talk about how the country had changed since then, as the Hungary he had grown up in was a communist state. As we walked, he told me about how amazing some of the injustices had been in that time, and how he had watched it all change.

When we finally did reach the overlook (a hike on a full stomach is NOT a good idea), the view literally took my breath away. Budapest in the day is fascinating enough; at night, it goes beyond belief. The air was cool, the remnants of the sunset were off to the northwest, and the quiet of the city below made it seem distant. It was a perfect ending to the day.

After a short walk down the hill and towards the hotel (downhill somehow seems shorter, anyway!), I bid Janos goodbye until some unnamed time in the future.

Monday, July 11th, 2005
I absolutely must plan more do-nothing days on trips like these in the future. Admittedly, I was disappointed that I won’t get to play with the quintet tonight, but a free day here in Budapest really did me some good, most especially in terms of getting my mind focused on what I am about to do in Bulgaria and Macedonia. Without a doubt, the recitals that are planned for these countries are large undertakings, and I need to be focused for them. Today certainly helped that focus.

Although I won’t bore you with the grotesque details, I will tell you that if you visit Budapest, you absolutely must also visit the Central Market Hall, located on the Pest side of the Danube River, just off the Freedom Bridge. Plan on getting yourself a really nice hand-made table-runner or some other hand-made textile here, as they are amazingly well-crafted.

With an 11:30pm flight back to Bulgaria quickly approaching and the afternoon quickly fading away, I did want to visit a restaurant that I had made good use of in 2004. Located across from the US Embassy in the central government district of town (I can’t possibly remember the name), it was nice to watch the rain and hear the thunder as I enjoyed dinner. A short time later, I was in the cab on the way back to the airport.

Today ended the same way Friday had, meeting Boyan back at the airport. The work in Bulgaria has officially begun!

Tuesday, July 12th, and Wednesday, July 13th, 2005
I have roped these two days together because they are so similar that can’t distinguish them (now writing about them two months later). I do remember calling home and my girlfriend in New York, as well as rehearsing with Boyan a bit, but the specifics of the days are now blurred. Well, maybe not: Wednesday morning, Boyan and I had a rehearsal in the performance space for our recital on Thursday evening. Quite literally, it’s a museum-turned-performance hall. It’s a bit live, but it will hold a good-sized audience.

I only hope that a good-sized audience turns out Thursday night.

Thursday, July 14th, 2005
Today began rather late (around 11am local time), as I just don’t think that my body is going to adjust to the time difference over here. Nevertheless after yet another amazing meal with the Kolarovs (I really don’t think that the Bulgarians have any idea what a bad meal is either), I enjoyed a nice, slow afternoon with the Hallmark Channel. There really are some great movies on that channel.

However, as the afternoon progressed quickly, it wasn’t long before the entire house was buzzing with the preparation for the evening recital at the State Gallery in downtown Sofia. Around 5:30, we piled into the family car and took off for the concert site, and soon found ourselves once again in the near-miss excitement that is Sofian traffic.

It really started to settle in on me what I’m getting to do here around concert time. The gallery hummed with the arrival of the guests, and when the staff started scrambling for more chairs about 10 minutes before the concert, I knew then that the crowd had exceeded 100 people. What’s more, just a few minutes earlier, the Bulgarian National Radio crew had arrived and was setting up microphones for the event. Gordana soon informed me in the off-stage room that not only was the concert going to be recorded for the radio broadcast, but I was also to give an interview with BNR after the concert.

Amid the hubbub of the many people that congratulated me after the concert, the gravity of the event started to settle in. The Deputy Director of the Bulgarian State Academy of Music wanted to know if the Cosma Concerto had orchestra accompaniment, and if I was at all interested in returning to Bulgaria to perform it with the Sofian Philharmonic. The low brass section of the Sofia Philharmonic introduced themselves. One of Eastern Europe’s most well know violinists told me how delighted he was in this performance. A woman from China told me that she had never even seen a euphonium, much less heard what it sounded like. An American woman told me that this was her last night in Sofia, and she wanted to visit the art gallery. I later found out that she watches the West Point Band regularly, and that she lives about half an hour from me in New York State. And above everything else that hit me in what these people said, they all wanted me to return to Bulgaria as soon as I possibly could.

I don’t know why God has blessed me with such an opportunity, but I do know that I’m having a lot of fun in the blessing. Now, off to Macedonia!

Friday, July 15, 2005
As little as a year ago, had you looked at me with a straight face and told me that I would spend my 27th birthday as a guest of the city of Skopje, Macedonia, chronicling the trip that encompassed Bulgaria and Macedonia’s first-ever solo euphonium recitals, I think that I would have stared back and frankly told you that the shuttle to Mars had left five minutes ago, and that you had missed your flight.

The day began in a hurry, back in Sofia, Bulgaria. Not wanting to get up, I soon found myself behind in repacking for the 4-hour bus ride into Macedonia. Fortunately, the Kolarovs kept me in pace, albeit later than they wanted me to be. I didn’t realize how late we were until I got in the car with Boyan’s brother. Suffice the ride to say that I don’t even think taxi drivers here will go down the wrong side of the street with oncoming traffic staring them in the face, but Boyan’s brother will. Fortunately, we arrived at the bus station with plenty of time, as well as our lives.

About two hours into our trip, we stopped at the border of Bulgaria and Macedonia. I had been warned that this portion of the trip could turn dicey, and after sitting on the bus going nowhere for about an hour, I figured that we were never going to make it into Macedonia. However, after a full inspection of all the luggage and passports on the bus, we were on our way.

When we arrived in Skopje around 3:00pm (with a one-hour time change towards the west; the trip was 6 hours long!) we were greeted again by Gordana, but this time with her father, Mr. Nicolae Kakanovska. Piling both into a taxi as well as their family car, it wasn’t long before we had dodged (and I do mean dodged) more traffic and found ourselves in Gordana’s home. It was an absolute delight to meet her mother as well as members of the extended family, including her grandparents, as well as some of her cousins (who were some to the cutest children you can imagine).

Around 3:45, I joined Gordana, Mr. Kakanovska, and Boyan for a short ride to the American Embassy so Gordana could pick up her Visa. Like Boyan, Gordana will begin studies at the University of South Florida in Tampa, Florida, this coming September. Although she already has two Master’s Degrees from respected European schools, USF is making her start another Master’s Degree in Vocal Performance. I know that she is going to really knock their socks off down there in Tampa.

When we returned from the trip, it was time for dinner. Having just settled into the family sofa for whatever conversation I could muster, I soon heard the entire family trying to sing the words to “Happy Birthday” in English! To my surprise, Gordana and her family had gotten me a birthday cake, and I was only too happy to blow out the candles that read “27”. I have been surprised on trips before, but this one was truly wonderful.

The dinner itself was yet another lesson in the wonders of Eastern European cuisine. Beginning with a toast, I soon downed a portion of some homemade whiskey, which, as I learned minutes later, was a whopping 50% alcohol! (How is it that these drinks seem to always find me on international trips?) Nevertheless, the meal was marvelous, and so was the birthday cake.

After about 15 minutes of conversation (inflection really does tell a lot when you can’t understand a single word of someone’s language), there was a knock at the door. It was the director of the Skopje Summer Festival. I soon watched Boyan and Gordana work out all the details of the remainder of our time in Skopje, as well as our trip tomorrow to Bitola. It should be a fun next three days or so!

As the alcohol was working on me really hard, I soon piled back in the family car with Boyan, Gordana, Mr. Kakanovska, and the Festival Director. About 10 minutes later, we were on the side of the mountain (that overlooks Skopje), and I was being shown to my room in an immaculate house. Gordana told me that this was the house that is reserved for guests of the city of Skopje, and also that the house immediately to my left was that of the President of Macedonia. Who would have thought that a euphonium player could bunk beside the President of Macedonia?

Oh well, I did manage to muster about an hour or so of practice, and as a long day waits tomorrow, with a total round-trip car ride of 6 hours going to and from Bitola, I should end this and get some sleep. Besides, I’ve got a headache that begs to be attended to!

I look forward to day one of my 27th year, and moreover, the blessings and lessons that God has in store for me.

Saturday, July 16, 2005
By the time I woke up today, it was almost noon. Gordana and Boyan both had already gotten their showers and gotten ready for the day, but their lazy American friend just couldn’t get going. Yet, finally, around one in the afternoon, we left the guesthouse for Mr. and Mrs. Kekenovska’s residence.

It was a pleasure to see both families at the house again, as they always are such a welcoming bunch. After a short time of conversing together, we all sat down to some amazing Frapuccinos that Gordana and her mother made for the entire group (look out Starbucks – these things were amazing!). A short time later, an exquisite lunch of chicken, rice, and tomato and cucumber salad got us all prepared for the 5-hour round trip that awaited us to and from Bitola for the second of these three recitals.

The trip was indeed interesting. I think that we somehow dodged three mules and a cow on the way, not to mention some trucks that I think are still trying to make it up some of the mountain passes we went through. At any rate, around 5:30pm, we arrived in Bitola at the concert site. I had found out back in Skopje that the concert time had been moved from 8:30 to 9:00pm, both for the fact that the day had been quite warm (around 35C), and also that the Bitolan night life didn’t really get underway until around that time anyway. So, together with Boyan, Gordana, Mr. and Mrs. Kolarov, and Mr. and Mrs. Kekenovska, we decided to tour the main shopping and restaurant district of Bitola.

What an interesting city Bitola is; I wish I could spend a few days here to really explore the place. In the short time that I had in the city, I saw some fascinating things. For one, a traditional Macedonian wedding was taking place on the square, and a band was leading the entire wedding party in some traditional dances. Together with some interesting percussion instruments (similar to the under-arm drum that you see in African music), a clarinet player honked and squeaked out one of the most amazingly intricate melodies that I have ever heard in live music. I did ask Gordana if the music was the same as the gypsy music that I had heard back in Sofia on the radio, but she told me that this was a more traditional form of Macedonian music. Regardless, had the clarinet player conjured a snake out of a basket in front of him, I somehow don’t think I would have been surprised.

A short distance from the wedding, we entered a local mosque that was being reconstructed. The building was fascinating – dating from the 16th century, the building had been a landmark in Bitola since that time. But what was far more fascinating was the interior. When we entered the main room of the building, half the floor had been removed and about a twenty foot deep and fifty foot wide hole had been exposed. The curator of the mosque turned on some lights inside and we soon saw why the hole was there. An ancient stone wall below the mosque’s floor revealed the ruins of a far older building. As the curator told us, this was believed to have been the missing Saint George’s Church, which, if this was indeed the case, would have made the structure date from the 9th century. What’s more, the curator told us that they had found many artifacts from the period, including some gold coins from Bitola’s early days.

After our stroll ended, Boyan, Gordana and I returned to the Gallery where the concert was to be held. Before long, it was 9pm, and a decent-sized audience of about 30 people had come to hear the performance. Although I would have liked more people to have been present, considering that this was a much smaller event than what happened in Sofia, and what will happen in Skopje, plus the fact that this was a concert on an instrument that the country has never even seen before, I had no complaints at all. Unquestionably, the recital went well, and the audience’s warm reaction to it was reassuring. I always love the reaction of people who have never heard the euphonium before, because they always tell me that what they hear versus what they see fascinates them. I really enjoy this.

The ride back to Skopje was accomplished a full half-hour faster than the ride to Bitola. I did, at one point see the driver cross 140km per hour, but Mr. Kekenovska, who had been in the front seat, assured me that he had seen the driver take the van (which was a brand new VW nine-passenger van) up over 200km/h. Regardless, we were all glad to be back in Skopje, and we celebrated the evening by cutting one of the best watermelons I’ve ever had.

Tomorrow should be a mostly free day, so I hope to finally get a little time to enjoy my surroundings a bit, and take time to soak in more of this amazing culture.

Sunday, July 17, 2005
I woke up this morning before Gordana and Boyan, and it afforded me some time to really embrace the morning. More than anything, however, I did notice that it was Sunday, and I am always bothered by not getting to be in church on Sunday. Just the same, after the morning devotional, the day quickly got underway.

We arrived at the Kekenovska’s house around 1pm, and had quite a bit of time to enjoy relaxing the afternoon away, as it turned out. I got to watch “King of Queens” (with Macedonian subtitles, of course), and then turned on a bit of the British Open, before doing a bit of score study with the recording from Bitola. I have to say that I was pleased with what we recorded in Bitola, and it provided me a wonderful opportunity to get a bit microscopic on our program.

By the time we actually did get to the rehearsal, around 7pm, I think that I had gotten a bit too microscopic. The program that Boyan and I have played all along this tour has been really wonderful, and I have to say that I don’t know if we could play live music between the two of us any better. Sure, there are always moments that you have where you feel as though you could have shaped something better, but I really applied too much pressure to myself in the rehearsal at the hall this afternoon, and I came away feeling pretty rotten about what I’m putting out. I know that we have an incredible show, but there’s a level out there that is really the next step; there’s something to be said for that constant pursuit of perfection. Until heaven, I’ll never know it, but the pursuit of this ideal, as a human being anyway, is what has captivated me towards the blessings that I have been given as a performer. I guess that I just need to realize that live music is just that: live and unedited, more than anything. I guess this just puts people like Derek Smith, Lyndon Baglin, and a host of others in the light that we should see them – they were one-take artists in the most serious sense of the word. Editing has cost us something in the world of performance, I think. Perhaps it’s honesty, above all.

It wasn’t until we had been in the hall for about an hour that it dawned on me that the place that I’m playing tomorrow night is absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Built in the second half of the 15th century, Daut-Pasha Amam, as it is called (or the “bath of Daut-Pasha) originally served as the bath of one of Skopje’s former rulers. Since it was restored in 1951, it has been used as the foremost art gallery in the nation of Macedonia. It really is worth seeing.

I am excited about tomorrow night. The cameras will be rolling, the lights will be on, and history for the euphonium will be made. But, until then, I’d best be smart and get some rest.

Monday, July 18, 2005
Before I even knew the day had started, I found myself in one of Skopje’s busiest newsrooms with Gordana and Boyan, giving an interview about my concert that night at the Skopje Summer Festival. The interview didn’t last that long, so I was surprised a day later when and entire page of the paper was dedicated to it. It is indeed a weird sensation to see yourself in the paper of a language you can’t even begin to speak. I have had this sensation before, both in Mandarin and in Finnish, and it’s just as weird every time.

After the interview, Gordana, Boyan, and I began to walk about the city, on our way to a local museum. The day was oppressively hot, as we soon realized, so we stopped at a café for a quick pastry breakfast. The food was good, but given the fact that the temperature had now soared into the upper 30’s (Celsius, or about 100F), the heat was really a factor in moving around.

We arrived at the museum (Sulij An) after a short stroll, and enjoyed marveling over the building’s intricacies. Constructed in the 1500’s, the building served as a hotel in the time of the Turks, and was located in the heart of the old portion of Skopje. There was an odd moment in the museum when the entire town seemed to erupt with the songs and sounds of Islamic prayer. As this continued, I made my way to the top floor of the open-air museum, where I saw the towers of the Mosques that blared the sound throughout the town, and the 10-story Christian cross on the mountain behind the town. It was an odd realization that so very many of the world’s major cultures meet here, in the Balkans.

Not much time later, I found myself back in the home of the Kekenovska family, sharing the last major meal that I would have with everyone present. Without question, the hospitality that I have been shown in this trip both from the Kolarovs and the Kekenovska family can, perhaps, never be fully repaid, and it will serve as a warm memory of my time here in this place. Nevertheless, with the final meal served, it wasn’t long before I was back in the guest house, resting up for the third and final performance on the trip.

Back in Daut Pasha Amam, there was only 45 minutes until the performance, and the hall was already busy as the television crew was setting up the cameras for the performance. By 10 minutes until the show was to begin, the festival staff were cramming more chairs into the hall, as it had become a standing-room only event. With the additional lighting, as well as so many people jammed into the space, the temperature was sweltering, but the anticipation was seemingly the greater feeling in the air.

I have to say that I am not often pleased with my performances. As I indicated after the rehearsal on Sunday, there is indeed another level of performance that I will always be striving for, but will, perhaps, never reach. But on this night, I have to say that I walked away from the performance with a degree of satisfaction that I had not had in quite some time. Performing with great musicians such as Boyan certainly doesn’t hurt this feeling, and although I will be glad to return to the states on Wednesday, I admit that I am sad that the performing side of this trip has come to an end.

After the show, a large group of us (including many of Gordana’s local friends) headed for a restaurant near the hall. We had a great conversation, as many of the group spoke fluent English. I had the pleasure of speaking both with the festival director about future interactions for the Skopje Summer Festival, as well as one of Boyan’s classmates, Slavica (Sla-veetza) about her interactions with him during their studies. Unfortunately, Slavica is in a position now in Skopje where she is no longer performing, and I urged her to pursue her studies in the USA. Slavica, as I found out, really wants to study vocal accompaniment, but is rather bound to her situation in Macedonia. I have resolved to help her situation in any way that I can. We’ll see what happens in the coming months.

The night ended around 2:00am again at the home of the Kekenovska family. While Gordana packed up her things for the trip back to Bulgaria, I sat and visited with Mr. Kekenovska. It is an interesting thing to have a conversation with a person who tries to speak your language as much as you try to speak theirs. Nevertheless, we had been conversing a full twenty minutes before I realized that that much time had passed. After a brisk taxi ride to the guest house (they know no other type of taxi ride in Skopje), I finally found myself in bed around 3am.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005
There is something strangely wonderful about seeing a familiar emotion from a completely different family in a different part of the world. Today, as I watched Gordana wave goodbye to her parents from the bus window, the same feeling came over me. Time after time, there have been moments where I have shared a goodbye with my parents, either in New York, or in South Carolina, and each time, it gets harder, rather than easier. There is so much love in the Kolarov and Kekenovska family, that a wonderful familiarity has embraced me throughout this journey.

And now, this journey is coming to a close. As I sit here writing, the Kolarov family prepares the last meal that I will get to have with them, at least until, Lord willing, I get to return to them in the future. What wonderful memories I will take with me of the performances, the hospitalities, and the amazing places that I have seen.

Tonight, the bags will get packed for the long flights back to the USA. While I can’t wait to see that big American flag in the customs corridor at JFK, I also can’t wait to return to Eastern Europe.