Once More into the Bar My Friends.

Marti ran off to find me on Facebook.

I walked down a spiral staircase with a glass of apple flavored vodka and was shocked to realize that the entire place was full of what we call in America... Hipsters. It was an Alice in Wonderland* moment where I opened a door to a place that looked all to familiar but all too different. It was like walking into a friendlier, cheaper, Los Angeles where no one was speaking English**.

So I sat at the bar and tried to look dangerous, and mysterious...ly... polite. Before long I found myself in a circle of Bulgarians watching a down pour of rain. We were talking about the idiosyncrasies of the Balkans, namely that it is a region of the world where somehow the friendliest people on the face of the earth are constantly locked in conflict with one another***. Of course this all stems from the fact that history's chess game had carved and re-carved borders again and again, so that the cultural heritage of any country in The Balkans, looks to a golden age of heros, kings, and large powerful borders which are recognized only by those countries.

Let's take Alexander the Great for example. Alexander the Great is the National hero of Macedonia. In the center of the Capital City of Macedonia there is a statue of Alexander the Great riding a triumphant steed, looking rad. After all it makes sense: his father was Philip of Macedonia- no slouch in the "conquering stuff" game himself. Now, this gets Grecian togas all in a knot.

However, and there is always a "however" in The Balkans. Greece claims that Macedonia at the time of Alexander was Greek. To which Macedonia responds by sticking it's tongue out and making a sweet bronze statue. I have heard Alexander claimed as having Albanian heritage as well. However, Macedonia is far more aligned with slavic countries like Bulgaria and Serbia, in spite of the fact that they have a large Albanian population.

And then there is Mother Theresa. Parents from Albania, born in Macedonia, did really cool stuff in India. So here's the question: to whom does Mother Theresa belong? The world probably, but you can't name an Airport after her if that's the case. The best way to describe it is like looking at one of those "Magic Eye" books, which I could never make look. You look at the big picture, and then you get really really close to it. Then you let your vision go fuzzy, and you slowly move the book away from you. Before you realize it, you've been staring at a page of squiggles for an hour, you're cross eyed, and saying, "I think I see something," while the guy next to you thinks you look like an idiot.

Ultimately the conversation bubbled down to a couple of Bulgarian guys and myself asking the universe in a self-effacing manner... "What can you do?" A very common phrase in the Balkans. The answer is... "Not a whole lot." History is what it is. A very unsatisfying answer filled with great people that did cool stuff

After I had finished my Bulgarian cocktail I was asked what I was drinking.

"Beer."
"What kind?"
"Whatever is Bulgarian."






*But a dude version... Hank in Crazydangerousjungleland.
**Nashville.
***Imagine if Hawaii, Oregon, Minnesota, and Canada shared the same peninsula and harbored thousands of years of historical pent up rage.