Soviet Bloc Stereotypes

Asapukhovo – Razgrad, Bulgaria

This might be the most Soviet Bloc country that we’ve been to. For sure, the former Yugoslavia states were kind of in the Bloc – but, after all, Yugoslavia was pretty independent, and, as I understand it, much more liberal than the states under more direct Soviet control. Albania wasn’t so liberal, but it was also independent of the Soviets in the sense that they had their own crazy dictator. 

You can really see it here in Bulgaria for sure. The bigger towns and cities have these big, dilapidated apartment buildings everywhere. They look like they haven’t seen a coat of paint in 50 years. 

I guess you can’t really blame the Communists for that – but for whatever reason it looks like there are very few people with any extra money around here – money that they might use to fix things up a bit. 

I mention all this because it is kind of the precursor to our primary story today – which is all about Russians and Ukrainians and Soviet Bloc stereotypes. 

Let’s start with what’s in our minds . . . 

When I envision Russia, Ukraine and the old Soviet Bloc I think of these endless faceless old buildings. I think of the rough, guttural Russian accents, I think of lots of vodka, Russian athletes doing anything to win, and maybe the men having the short cropped haircuts – like in the old Cold War era Rocky movies. 

Now, don’t get all upset – I’m not saying this is an accurate portrayal – I’m just telling you what stereotypes lie in the recesses of my brain . . . But, the funny thing is, this story has a little of all of this . . .

We ended up pulling into Asparukhovo – yesterday’s destination – pretty late yesterday. First off, as predicted, it rained for a few hours in the middle of the day. We stopped, hung out at a gas station, had lunch, and sent out yesterday’s blog. So that set us back a bit for sure. Then we had to climb a big mountain – and that took a while. Then we stopped at a spring for some water.

Then Diana’s derailleur cable broke; I’m getting better at changing them, but it still takes time.

Finally, we happened upon some pretty amazing rock formations – and we had to take some photos. 

End result: we didn’t land in Asparukhovo until about 6. 

First hotel was full because they were hosting a wedding. 

Second hotel was also full – but they had a restaurant and we decided to eat there while we figured out our next move. 

Turns out that our server, Nadia, and her husband are Russian and bought the hotel a few years ago. Nadia told us that she knew of a neighbor in town who rented rooms. Now, we’ll come back to that – but for now, just hold that thought . . .

As we finish eating, a woman at the next table introduces herself: Oksana. She’s from the far east in Russia. Like the really far east. I think she was neighbors with Sarah Palin – or maybe they could see each other from their windows. (Isn’t that what Sarah said: “She could see Russia from her window . . .”). 

Oksana was born in 1985 – so by the time she was a young girl the Cold War was over and, I guess, the Russians and Alaskans would play together. Seriously, Oksana told us that dogsledders from America would come to her village, and Oksana told her Mom that she wanted to learn English so she could communicate with them. Her Mom found her a tutor and Oksana ended up learning perfect English.

This led to all kinds of interesting things . . . Like she moved to Finland and actually became a Finnish citizen. Then she moved to Scotland and lived there for a number of years. At some point along the line she learned to dance hip hop and she now teaches dance for a living. She even traveled to New York and visited the Bronx – where Diana went to high school, and our daughter, Lauren, currently goes to college – because the Bronx is where hip hop originated. 

Somewhere in there her Mom moved to Bulgaria, and when things went haywire for her during Covid she decided to move back to Burgas, Bulgaria (where we were two days ago). 

For the past year and a half or so, Oksana has been dating Alexander – who is also from Russia originally. About a year ago they purchased a motorcycle (they now own two of them) and they’ve been taking trips ever since – with the idea of eventually doing an around-the-world type trip as well. 

And that’s why she introduced herself – because she wanted to know more about our bike trip . . .

But can we just take a minor detour for a moment. Because people our age will immediately think of a figure skater with the name Oksana. Took us a moment, but with the help of our good friend Google, we figured out that we were thinking of Oksana Baiul. Gold medalist at the 1994 Olympics. 

You remember that, right? That was the Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding Olympics. Throw in Katarina Witt as well. So much intrigue. For the younger crowd – or the older crowd who might be too old to even remember – here’s a little refresher at what happened that year . . .

Let’s see . . . 

Tonya Harding – who in today’s world would definitely be characterized as a Trump supporter – really wanted to win gold. But this prissy New England type – Nancy Kerrigan – was standing in her way. So Tonya’s friends, Jeff Gillooly and some other guy that I don’t remember, decided to take matters into their own hands – which Tonya totally didn’t know about . . . 

They found a pipe and hit Nancy in the knees with it. She was pretty beat up, and everyone was very upset – because everyone loved sweet Nancy. But she found a way to fight through it and ended up going to the Olympics anyway.

But then, when they arrived in Lillihammer, this 15 year old from Ukraine – you guessed it: Oksana Baiul – who was one of the first athletes to ever compete for independent Ukraine – kind of messed up their plans. 

After the short program, Nancy was winning, with Oksana in second. Then, during a practice session, Oksana ran into another competitor, banged up her knees, and had to get stitches in her shin. Like, worse than even Jeff Gillooly could have done . . .

But then Oksana received special permission from the Olympic Committee to get some steroid injections or something that, I think, would otherwise be banned. She recovered so well that she threw in an extra triple-something at the end of her program and ended up overtaking Nancy. 

Katarina and Tonya ended up finishing sixth and eighth, respectively. 

It was like a soap opera Olympics. They don’t make them like that anymore . . .

Afterwards, when Oksana went back to the Ukraine, the Ukraine, having just become independent from Russia, had no money. The upshot was that they couldn’t afford to maintain the ice rink where Oksana had always practiced. Facing this reality, at fifteen, Oksana gave up her amateur status, went professional, moved to the United States, and started doing Dancing with the Stars type stuff. She still lives in the U.S. even today . . .

I guess we had to travel all the way to Bulgaria, and meet a different Oksana – who is basically too young to really remember any of this – in order to refresh our recollection on the craziness of the ‘90s. 

The interesting thing is that I was sure Oksana Baiul was Russian. Because back then we used to just lump the whole Soviet Bloc together. Ukraine, Russia, what’s the difference? We would never think that now . . .

Except that something else that I never really understood was how many commonalities all these Slavic countries really have. They seem to downplay it a little, but as far as I can tell the different languages aren’t really different languages at all. Same alphabet. Same basic words. Seems like they can all understand each other. I mean, it might take a little effort, but heck, it takes me some effort to understand Aussies sometimes . . .

Now, as noted before, there are a few exceptions to this general rule. Like the Romanians. They speak a Romance language – I guess, left over from the Romans. And the Albanians speak a language that is pretty close to Greek. But the rest of these Balkan countries, Slovakia, Poland, and Ukraine – I guess they all speak basically the same language. 

I’ll probably get hate mail for this from some outraged Russian or Bulgarian or Pole, but that’s the reality that I’ve observed anyway . . .

One other thing that Oksana shared with us that I thought was interesting. We were talking about the difference between Bulgarian salaries and Bulgarian prices, and she told us that prices have been driven up since the war started. She said that the wealthier Ukrainians have come to Bulgaria to escape the war – and they have helped drive up prices, particularly for things like apartments.

Okay – let’s skip ahead now. 

Remember the room that Nadia had figured out for us? She brings us there. Back yard of our new, friendly hosts – Katja and J_____ (we never really got the name) – with a room in the basement opening directly into the yard – where we stayed. 

But before we get to the room, we’re beckoned over to the big family table. Before I know it they’ve poured drinks for us. Turns out one of them is rakija – Bulgaria’s national drink – a fruit brandy. J_____ keeps pouring more and I try to converse with him through Google Translate – but we’re fumbling things pretty good. 

Me: What is this drink made of?

J_____ (after translation): Plums and cherries and anything in the pot. It’s late and the pot is boiling. 

Me: We’re from the United States.

J_____ (after translation): I’ve never been to Bulgaria, and Donald Trump. 

Eventually J____ asks if I want to see where he makes the brandy. Before I know it we’re in his car and driving a few miles to a dilapidated building on the edge of town. 

Inside there are giant cauldrons. Witches would be proud to own just one of these things – but J____ has four. Quite the contraptions. J____ shows me some of the brandy in various states of fermentation. Very reminiscent of our mezcal day back in Mexico: would probably violate like 784 different health and safety rules in the U.S. 

Me: What do you do with all this stuff?

J____ (after translation): It is for cars, sometimes buildings, or pay money. Anything to make a deal. 

I take this to mean that he trades the stuff for things like boats and cars and buildings – but, really, I have no idea.

I will say that I feel like our stereotype about vodka and drinking in the Eastern Bloc has some basis in reality anyways . . . 

When we return, I’m told to sit down again and the bottles come back out. I’m done at this point – way over my limit . . . When J____ holds his glass to say cheers before we drink – and I hold up my glass of water – J____ looks at my glass with disgust and walks off . . .

But, here’s the thing . . .

Everyone in this story was kind and generous to us. Sharing their rakja – which was very good – even if more than a bit stronger than I can handle . . . Sharing their home. Katja even made us French Toast this morning.

Nadia helped us find the place. And we expect to see Oksana and Alex stop at our place in Minnesota as they motorcycle through one of these years. 

So, yes, there are definitely some stereotypes at work around here. And it’s pretty interesting to see Bulgarians and Russians and Ukrainians all kind of mixed together. There’s lots of history around here – and some of that “history” is still happening today – but for real people, it seems like life goes on . . . People just make the best of whatever situation they’re in . . .

Tomorrow we head to the Danube and cross the Bridge of Friendship – really, that’s what it’s called – and into Romania. The next day we should make Bucharest . . .

Don’t the problems of the ‘90s seem quaint now? Too bad we can’t resolve all our disputes on the ice rink . . .