"Oh, brother, brother, brother. I know you've been hangin' on a long time. You know I love you like no other. Oh, brother, brother, brother. Talkin' about you, brother." — Carole King, 1971 It was the coldest Thanksgiving Day I can recall in Washington, D.C., and during that November of 1992, former N.W.A rap star Dr. Dre, along with newcomer Snoop Doggy Dogg, ruled the pop radio airwaves with an unlikely winter anthem called "Nothin' But A 'G' Thang," from the seminal debut album The Chronic. Listed in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame's 500 Songs That Shaped Rock and Roll, the aforesaid single would breathe new life into a then rapidly declining hip-hop genre, subsequently upstarting many notable rap careers — including the aforementioned world famous newcomer.
In the meantime, while Dr. Dre was busy enjoying solo success away from his N.W.A family, the usual friction that occurs when a 20 year old still lives at home with his mother prompted me to seek some solo success of my own. However, without a dime saved and no real know how of living an independent life, my older brother Brubby and his girlfriend Dawn offered me a place to stay — just long enough to be able to manage on my own. Initially hesitant that living with my older brother wouldn't be any different than living with my mom, I had no other choice in the matter and accepted their generous offer. You see, perhaps it was our 12 year age difference or him often trying to keep me on the right track, but whatever the case, during my teenage years Brubby wasn't exactly my favorite brother. Being the seventh child of nine, I'd much rather preferred hanging out with siblings closer to my age, like Carlos, the sixth child who always kept me laughing, or even my baby brother Jamie, who, like me, had a tremendous love for Star Wars.
But I guess you can say it was in the blood, because after a year or so hanging out at Brub and Dawn's place on Garland Avenue in Takoma Park, my big brother and I soon developed a close bond, mainly after discovering numerous things we have in common, such as a career in teaching (see Episode 18), our political views, a passion for running (see Episode 10), and, most importantly, an exceeding love for all things music related (see episode 16).
Getting back to Dr. Dre and that certain newcomer. Interestingly enough, after my fifth oldest sibling Stevie lent Brubby his copy of The Chronic, the album became the initial starting point of our close relationship. Looking back now, I guess it was this 20 year old kid witnessing his 32 year old brother listening to hardcore gansta rap that presented the older sibling in a more edgier, less parental light. Soon after, the two of us started collecting and discussing the latest hip-hop productions, making the genre something of a favorite pastime. But regardless of the musical connection, when you get right down to it and consider the true definition of a big brother — or even a friend for that matter — our close bond has always been there from the very start, even if I didn't see it until many years later. With that said, after word came down that Brub and Dawn were planning on visiting Bulgaria, it would be the perfect opportunity to show my gratitude for all the years that my big brother looked out for me. So, for impression's sake, I brushed up on my Bulgarian and took a quick crash course in reading cyrillic. Next, with the help of Sarah, I prepared a big list of Bulgarian bests for us to explore that included some familiar destinations; like my all-time favorite city, and even some surprises; such as a long awaited journey to a flying saucer stuck in the center of the Sunflower Capital of the World. Check the rhyme . . .
"I'm really glad you came here.
Thank you for the talk.
It's funny how my problem stopped
When we went for a walk.
Standing here together means so much.
I won't forget your confidence.
I won't forget your touch."
— Philip Oakey, 1984
IT WAS LIKE LOVE AT FIRST RAGGA. IN 1981, at a reggae concert inside the newly opened 9:30 Club located in the Nation's Capital, a beautiful Baltimore girl named Mary "Dawn" McGrath met my brother, Thaddeus "Brubby" Hester, a tall, dark handsome dude from the Southeast section of Washington, D.C. Not particularly long after courting, the two aspiring school teachers moved in together. After my brother introduced Dawn to our family, she was welcomed in with open arms and has been like an honorary fourth sister ever since. In fact, it's impossible to imagine family get-togethers, holidays, vacations, or travels without Dawn.
With traveling in mind, as far back as I can remember, the couple has always had a tremendous love for taking journeys. In fact, one of their biggest was recently recalled in Episode 43, when I recognized their 1989 trip to Tunisia being an important moment in developing my early travel aspirations. Unfortunately, like most U.S. citizens after the September 11 attacks, Brubby developed a severe fear of flying, which kept his feet firmly planted to the ground for more than a decade. With this in mind, one can imagine my utter shock when, out of my eight siblings — Sylvester, Brubby, Tina, Joy, Stevie, Carlos, Jamie, and Kya — the flight fearing one would end up being the first to visit the Sunflower Capital.
However, it was no little feat convincing a big aviophobic to board a 10 hour flight to Eastern Europe. Leading up to the day, my honorary fourth sister had to put on plenty of persuasive power. Oh, and then there was the drugs. Those were quite crucial, too. You see, like B.A. "I-ain't-gettin'-on-no-plane-fool" Baracus from the classic 1980s TV series The A-Team, in order to keep Brubby good and relaxed during the flight, an airline attendant supplied him with something similar to that tranquilizer dot they'd shoot B.A. with.
It must have been the perfect dose, because Brubby was wide awake and excited when he and Dawn arrived on time to Sofia National Airport where I greeted them with the biggest smile imaginable. I wanted to do my Happy Dance right there in the airport. In fact, upon embracing the visiting couple, I'll admit to having struggled with holding back my emotions. I guess seeing family on Bulgarian soil, a vastly different world from the U.S that they've only heard stories about, was quite surreal for me.
"... And tell me my friend,
How in the world have you been?
Tell me what's out and
I want to know what's in?
What's the deal, man?
What's happening?
What's happening, brother?"
— James Nyx Jr. and Marvin Gaye, 1971
'THE PEOPLE OF A COUNTRY ARE THE MOST important aspect of truly enjoying a country.' Faithful Blog-O-Daria readers may be familiar with this magnificent motto which is often maintained throughout the series. But for the first time, I now realize that this psychology must clearly be in the blood. You see, after a few days exploring Bulgaria's famous capital, as well as Veliko Tarnovo — my all-time favorite Bulgarian city, I posed a typical question to my big brother; 'what do you like most about Bulgaria, so far?' Without hesitation, the gentle spoken elder sibling of few words was quick to acknowledge that "the people are friendly."
Next to the benevolent Balkan people, after dinning out at choice spots like Pri Yafata, 33 Chairs, Made In Home, and the most traditional Chevermeto, where a dozen of my Bulgarian and American friends joined the fun, Bulgaria's savory cuisine would also appear high on the visiting couple's list of favorites. However, the trip wouldn't be complete without taking Dawn and Brub to my all-time favorite chain apply known as Happy. In addition to chowing down on a variety of yummy dishes while receiving the most professional service (a western commodity still rather uncommon in the Sunflower Capital), my brother also got the opportunity to get a proper peek at some of Bulgaria's world famous beauties moonlighting as waitresses.
In addition to food, Bulgarian wine and a traditional Balkan fruit brandy known as rakia were also a big hit with the visiting couple. On that note, after taking Brub and Dawn on an exploration through Koprivshtitsa, the first Bulgarian town I visited outside of Sofia, we headed straight for Starosel, a tiny village in central Bulgaria, where we were treated to a tour of our accommodation's massive wine fermenting factory from a fantastic Bulgarian fellow named Dimi, who was a dead ringer for my cousin Tony — in both looks and personality.
Next to the wine, Starosel is also famous for its abundance of Thracian Tombs, which made my girl from the north country's mouth water. So, after exploring more of the village, we headed on over to some of the nearby ancient monuments, which stunningly appeared like giant beehives perched on top of a grassy field. After delving into a few, with the help of my sweet-talking, backsheesh-ing woman, we received a secret tour of several excavations that were discovered within the last year, which were not opened to the general public.
"Brother
Every time I call your home
You're out dancing"
— Tim Maia, 1976
THE NEXT DAY STARTED off with me taking Brub out for a run on my daily course around our home in the posh, stray dog free neighborhood known as Doctor's Garden. The path was certainly not nearly as tenacious as Hills You Can Feel For Real, a twelve mile running trail consisting of seventeen slopes back home in Takoma Park, but when considering that the Garden gave Brubby a proper chance to experience Bulgaria from my everyday celebrity status point of view, I'm sure it was just as thrilling.
After the celebrity run, while the world's greatest tour guide otherwise known as Sarah was away on business, it gave me the perfect opportunity to start impressing my big brother with my own guiding skills — as well as some of the language and cyrillic knowledge I recently obtained. And the best way to do that was to gas up Xena and take the visiting couple on a road trip to Plovdiv, the second largest city in Bulgaria known for its Roman artifacts, which include a colossal ancient theatre located in a cozy cobble stoned old town.
Despite an array of reckless drivers, I managed to get the visiting couple to Plovdiv safe and sound, but I'll admit to struggling a bit with reading some of those cyrillic road signs on the way. And though I certainly do not possess the amazing guiding skills of my girl from the north country, I think I did a pretty decent job showing Brub and Dawn around Plovdiv, which they enjoyed throughly.
The next morning after Sarah returned, the four us headed to a small town in the Sofia province known as Samokov to introduce Brub and Dawn to Alexander and Slaveka, Sarah's lovable and most hospitable host parents during her Peace Corps tenure. After Slaveka, the best darn cook in all of Bulgaria, stuffed us with mountains of yummy traditional home-cooked Bulgarian cuisine, we spent the night in the neighboring ski town of Borovets.
At the crack of dawn, we headed down south to the Blagoevgrad province and stopped off in Melnik, a small town known for its mystical mountain range. Afterwards, we toured Blagoevgrad's famous American College campus and dined out with Radi and Nevena, Sarah's best friend, whom you may recall from numerous episodes. And because Nevena is possibly Bulgaria's most vibrant party girl — next to Sarah, we hit up a few bars in the area during the late night hours.
Now, if a Bulgarian native or ex-pat doesn't take visitors to the Monastery of Saint Ivan of Rila, better known as the Rila Monastery — the Balkan's biggest and most popular Eastern Orthodox monastery of its kind, then that person has failed as a tour guide. Period. Well, Sarah and I weren't going to join that short list of losers. So, on the seventh day of Brub and Dawn's journey to the Sunflower Capital, we headed down to the south western part of the Rila Mountains where the visiting couple not only got a view of Bulgaria's most treasured cultural and historical monument, but also a taste of mekitsa and honey, one of the country's most treasured cuisines — and mine, too!
"Unkunky kind of UFO here from the sun.
You've got the groove and we want some.
We're unfunky and we're obsolete,
And we're out of time.
Gonna take your funk and make it mine."
— George Clinton, 1976
ANOTHER ADAGE AKIN to the bloodline were moments when Brubby invariably enthused over Bulgaria's unique communist style architecture — particularly the doors, which he adored most. You see, on my first day in Eastern Europe nearly 4 years ago now, the iconic communist era architecture was tremendously impressed upon me. So much so, that I developed a personal side hobby taking photographs of each monument or decoration I'd come across. After exploring a handful of former Soviet countries, I thought I'd seen them all until I discovered that, not only had I not seen them all, I hadn't even seen the greatest of all-time — which just so happens to sit in the heart of the Sunflower Capital. It all happened in May of 2012, while relaxing one rainy morning in Plus Tova, a homely hipster cafe catty-cornered to our condo. Joanna, the joint's strikingly attractive owner, inquired "what are some of the favorite things you like about living here, Owen?" Like most Bulgarians, the young entrepreneur's nose slightly turned up after learning that the communist era architecture is amongst my top 5 best things I love about the country.
When carefully considering that these sensational socialist structures are really revolting reminders of an age of restriction for most Bulgarians, Joanna's response was rightfully reasonable. Nevertheless, since westerners have never experience the clutches of communism, the socialist style architecture — which is often described as gaudy or kitsch — can appear like something out of a big budget sci-fi flick, thus prompting positive reactions.
Sensing the enthusiasm, Joanna handed me one of the cafe's coffee table art books, which featured photographs of socialist-era Bulgarian architecture. To my complete astonishment, Buzludzha Monument, the phenomenal flying saucer-like structure that graced the book's cover, was far more sci-fi than I had originally perceived of any architecture in Bulgaria — or anywhere else for that matter. It was simply breathtaking!
Overjoyed with excitement, for the next year or so I made the mysterious UFO shaped monument, which was secretly assembled to commemorate the Bulgarian Communist Party, my number one destination sought in the Sunflower Capital. However, each time I tried to go, something kooky would keep me away, like the crazy time when racing there once in Xena to beat sundown, the journey resulted in the cops pulling me over for failing to obey the speeding limit. Well, on the day that I finally got to see Buzludzha, wouldn't you know that one of Bulgaria's worst thunder storms in history was taking place. However, no wind or rain was going to stop this boy from seeing it — besides, this was the perfect opportunity to show Brub the best example of Bulgarian communist style architecture.
With this in mind, though currently in a severe condition of deterioration, everyone agreed that Buzludzha was simply magical and worth taking the risk of exploring it in the heavy storm. Photographs (which I took a ton of) are nice to look at, but like most top world destinations, such as the Eiffel Tower, Great Pyramid, or Grand Canyon, seeing Buzludzha in person is believing. And believe me, after only 10 minutes of exploring the monument's otherworldly exterior, it rocketed to number one on my list of all the places traveled within the Sunflower Capital — respectively shooting past adoring sites like Belogradchick and the Seven Rila Lakes, an ambitious statement that will surely have Bulgarian readers shaking their heads in disapproval.
Moreover, the communist flying saucer's exterior wasn't the only main attraction. Its forbidden interior was equally impressive. A cautionary warning, though; getting in was a difficult and dangerous task. You see, while a friendly Bulgarian dude showed us the location to the hidden entrance — which was a 24x24 inch crack in its outer wall, standing 8 feet from the ground — he also advised entering at our own risk. Brubby and Dawn must have taken that as a sure sign to stay the hell out.
However, faithful Blog-O-Daria readers will certainly know that words of discretion only act as a provision of encouragement to the brave and fearless Castle Hunters. So, without a moment's hesitation, Sarah and I confidently climbed into the pitch black crawl space and cautiously entered. Once inside, a staircase led the way to a giant dome shaped conference room which once held the meetings of the organized Bulgarian Socialist Movement. Though badly flooded and sadly stained with graffiti, the interior was still astonishing. One can even say that the risk of falling down a dark shaft or getting possessed by the spirit of a sinister communist leader was well worth taking.
"Back to the lecture at hand.
Perfection is perfected,
So I'm a let 'em understand
from a young G's perspective."
— Calvin Broadus, 1992
ASK ANY SOFIAN AND THEY'LL TELL YOU, 'Summer in Sofia is the best season to be there.' A viable reason given for this seemingly ghost town manner points to Summertime being saved for a major majority of Bulgarians visiting family or vacationing on the Black Sea coast. So, for anyone sick of Sofia's gruesome gridlock or over growing population, the hottest season of the year can be like a dream. In fact, though Brub and Dawn wasn't aware, having Sofia and the general western side of Bulgaria empty made for a chill vacation.
However, for that world famous new comer I first mentioned, who goes by the name of Calvin Broadus, aka Snoop Doggy Dogg, aka Snoop Dogg, aka Snoop Lion, an empty Sofia would prove to be a disappointment for an artist hoping to cash in on a recent identity change and concert tour. Despite a low turnout, I'm still shaking my head over the whole irony of one of the artists who helped develop my bond with Brub showing up in Bulgaria at the same time. I guess life has its mysteries, and I won't question them.
Held at Sofia's Arena Armeec, Snoop Dogg (or whatever you prefer to call him these days) opened the concert by appropriately paying homage to his friend and mentor Dr. Dre with a cover of "California Love," a number one Billboard single originally recorded by the latter, funk legend Roger Troutman and the late Tupac Shakur, the greatest hip-hop artist to emerge in the wake of the success of "Nuthin' But A 'G' Thang". At the first vibrations of Troutman's iconic talk-box, which kicksoff "California Love", the energetic Bulgarian crowd were instantly grooving to Dre's iconic Apple bought beat and maintained the dissipation throughout the duration of the concert. That's when Brub and Dawn, who were seated in the back area along with me and Sarah, joined in on the fun.
The "California Love" starter brings me back to Snoop's most recent name change. Following a 2012 excursion to Jamaica, the artist converted to the Rastafari movement, resulting in a newly released twelfth album apply titled Reincarnation under the reggae persona 'Snoop Lion'. With that said, Brub and I were a bit worried that the newly reborn Snoop Lion would reject his gangsta rap character and cease to perform the songs that made him a star — quite similar to another famous name-changer you know as Prince, who refuses to perform his signature overtly sexual songs in concert.
Well, although Snoop Lion performed a couple of songs in his new persona, overall the artist formally known as Snoop Doggy Dogg stayed true to himself, taking me and Brub back down memory lane with classic hip-hop jams like the first solo outing "Who Am I? (What's My Name)", "Gin and Juice", "2 of Amerikas Most wanted" — a duet with Shakur, "Drop It Like It's Hot", and the one that made it all happen; "Nuthin' But A 'G' Thang". Surprisingly, Snoop performed some additional covers as well, such as House of Pain's 1992 classic "Jump Around." During the song's unforgettable refrain, while waving the Bulgarian flag high and mighty, the Long Beach, California native got the proud Bulgarian crowd air bound and roaring for more.
The concert closed with 2011's "Young, Wild, and Free", which Snoop recorded with rapper Wiz Khalifa and singer Bruno Mars, a rather fine recording for this generation of mundane music. And even without the aforesaid collaborators there to assist, Snoop's performance — which included the rap artist taking a 420 break in between, bestowed by a generous audience member — ended up being a most memorable highlight and the theme song for my Big brother and honorary fourth sister's visit to the Sunflower Capital.
"Pray tell what's gonna happen to brother?
Who's gonna help him get further?
One another.
Is that the truth?
One another.
Yeah, you're right."
— Allen Toussaint, 1970
NO TRIP TO BULGARIA WOULD BE COMPLETE without paying a visit to its world famous southern neighbor, otherwise known as Greece. So, during the last week of Thad and Dawn's visit, the four of us headed to Thessaloniki, the second largest city in Greece, famous for the Arch of Galerius, Rotunda, and the wonderful White Tower. After spending some quality time in Thessaloniki, we ventured further north to the Agean Sea coast to spend a couple of days in Kassandra (Pallene), the first "leg" of Chalkidiki, a peninsula region in Greece. Next to hanging out, relaxing and swimming on Kassandra's beautiful sandy shores, in the evening the four of us dined out at a most scrumptious and hospitable restaurant called Taverna Zorbas. Due to my honorary fourth sister being a strict vegetarian like Sarah, Brub was easily able to vouch for Greece having the best tasting fish on the planet. I'm telling you, the stuff will make you smack somebody's mama!
For the next portion of the journey, Sarah and I left Brub and Dawn to travel about Greece for a few days on their own. So after the greatest tour guide assisted the visiting couple with renting a car, she and I headed back to Bulgaria, and Brub and Dawn began the real travel experience. Due to the couple not having a cell phone, after their return bus didn't show for several hours, I was worried sick. I thought about all the crazy things that could possibly happen with two unexperienced European travelers, such as driving the wrong direction and ending up in Albania, or getting rear ended by some crazy driver.
But to my relief, none of the above happened. In fact, Brub, who did the driving, got around Greece fairly well and had no problem fitting into the fast paced European culture. Moreover, right after Greece, I began to take a real close look at my big brother. On his and Dawn's final day in Bulgaria, he started to change. There was a swagger to his walk and he carried himself a bit more confidently around the city. He even spoke a few Bulgarian words to the friendly folks at our nearby fruit stand. I don't know. I really can't put my finger on it, but I guess you can say that Brub appeared more like a hardcore seasoned traveller. It's in the blood. Be seeing you. O
