Corn in a cup / Bulgaria trip 2014

A midday walk with Lydia in Plovdiv. She was eating corn in a cup, the latest street culinary fashion, and dragging behind. I was rushing her to please eat and walk faster, it looked like rain was coming. She mumbled she was trying, spitting corn from the gap in her mouth where four little teeth used to be. A woman behind us smiled and said ” I used to love corn when I was a kid” and let out a cloud of cigarette smoke towards the gray sky. I looked at her trying to determine the level of friendliness my answer should have. ” Yes, I said friendly enough, it was the best.”, remembering my own childhood corn excitement.  ” Of course, the corn these days is not the same…” she added magically reading my mind.  We exchanged memories of carefree, corn eating summer days, light years away and kept on walking together, the smoking lady, Lydia and I. By the time she told me her daughter lives in the US and hasn’t been back in more then 10 years, because she doesn’t want to her cigarette was down to the filter and was no longer producing any smoke. I wondered if she had noticed … I wondered how is it possible for someone not to want to be walking the streets of this city I love so much and have corn nostalgia conversations with strangers. I wondered if this country, Plovdiv and it’s streets will matter to Lydia the way they matter to me. I guess one day I will find out. For now though the only thing I don’t wonder about is how important it is for me that she knows where i come from. And that i love coming back. And photographing her everywhere I can to the point of her being furious at me…   I know she already has her own delicious corn memories, cups and all…

A lot happened on this trip. Tsvetnitsa, Easter, lots and lots of running, jumping and climbing , swimming, homeless cats feeding, bunnies, turtles and pigeon chasing, chained dog and donkey befriending, cookie baking, house and street dancing ( she asked me to put an empty jar out so people can give her money….oh boy!)  Many, many stories . At the end she did not want to leave. And that made me smile a very happy smile.

I guess the only image that needs a side note is that of my baba, her reflection in the mirrored cabinet where she has 22 photographs she looks at every day  (weddings, portraits , my uncle in the army, Lydia naked, ha! … oh, and one of me with red hair)  

So here is a little bit from what April  in BG with Lydia looked like through my 35. Till next time.