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Thursday, October 9, 2008

Monday, October 06, 2008


It's fair to say that every transferable skill from America to Bulgaria to takes a little bit more time; and a little more effort to be successful. This is true for that game that sparked kid's interests every single time at the Boys and Girls Club, and the batch of cookies I have been making (and eating) since I had baby teeth.

After 2 months of three delicious (and substantial) meals a day, I wanted to thank my host parents with a little "taste" of home. The night before last I completely botched a batch of mom's famous Giant Chocolate Chip Cookies so the much anticipated (on my part, mostly) Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole was a bit of a daunting task…

Little shops in small Bulgarian villages don't exactly sell Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup and Ritz Crackers, but the creativity was pretty fun.

My concern was not necessarily making a meal, but making one that my host parents would eat and, more importantly, enjoy.

My casserole came beautifully out of the oven (smelling fantastic), we managed to locate a few extra tomatoes (I know, I had already said my goodbyes!!), and all was going well and good until, well….

There was a fight.

Out in front of the house.


An all out brawl.

Between the goats.

{Logically – who else?}

Actually, a stranger goat instigated the fight.

One we'd never seen before.

So Kiril kept him hostage until his owner came to claim him.

It's funny how fast word about lost goats travels in villages as small as this one, but next thing we know, my host mom is leading the psycho goat down the street with a very bewildered Baba scolding her "bully" goat the entire way home.

I've always thought it's amazing how all of the village goats know exactly where they live – usually their owners wait on the benches in front of their houses for them or jump up to let them in the gates when they hear the bells, but apparently every once in awhile there is a goat who feels like testing the system…

Only in Bulgaria…



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