O, sancta simplicitas!
Hi, self-absorbed Americentrics curious readers who are dying to learn something new about the world! Here's a curious look into the spirit of provincialism permeating every facet of life in most Balkan societies. What you're about to witness is the original spirit of the Balkan type - narrow-minded, selfish, and backward, and at the same time cordial, sincere and down-to-earth. It's a strange mix really.
This interview with the mayor of a small village somewhere in Western Bulgaria became viral on the BG webz, spurring a cannonade of diverse comments, opinions and pranks, but also provoking some deep introspections and insights about our society and its neighbors.
Below follows a transcript of the interview (which is here presented as a monologue), plus my rough translation of this epochal tirade:
Oh, mayor, mayor...
- We, the provincial people will drag this country out of the crisis. The seaside resorts cannot drag the country out of the crisis - everybody there is a thug, a thief and a fraud. How is it possible to have 70 hotels with an ordinary salary, eh? Leave the villager alone. Let him look after his sheep and his goats.
This awesome land...
- Here's where the *real* life is, in *our* country. We have such a small country, but so beautiful! Here in our village Katuntsi we have awesome wine. It's no advert, it's true! Ads don't sell - nice taste sells! We have awesome beans, awesome potatoes, peach trees under the mountain... What else. Oh, wheat too! Awesome wheat. What else do you need? We have a sea - it's fabulous. Do you know that all around Europe there are just 3 inches of earth on the ground, everything else is rock! Can you show me a stone water faucet anywhere in Europe where you can drink on the road, eh? If they don't leave the villagers alone to move freely and work as they should... no one else can drag this country out of the crisis. Understand?
On jars, pickles, and technology...
- There's another, smaller village here. I'm a mayor of that one too, cuz there are just 18 people in that village. 12 of them are old women, most of them born around 1912, 1913... (!!!) We've got a nice church there; they put out some jars with jam and pickles, just like that, to sell on the street at the church. Just a couple of jars with chutney, and three jars with fig jam. And suddenly, some weird costumed types arrived from the city, playing the big boss and saying they're financial control and hygiene control. And they went to that old woman and told her that her jars didn't meet the EU standards. The hell with hygiene inspectors! The hell with EU! Such awesome jam they can't ever produce in the EU! Well, they *used* to produce it in the past, but not any more. Because this woman makes it out of *real* figs, with sugar... and she doesn't close it with a screw cap, she puts a cardboard cap on top and ties it with a cord. That's the *real* jam! Well, sure, it's mouldy on top, but it's awesome!
On financial control...
- And then this woman calls me and says "Hey mayor, some men came here blabbering something in some weird language, they say they're of our own but I still can't understand them". So I went there to check what's going on, and what do I see? Some smart asses were putting a cashier machine! The woman was born in 1912 and they're putting a cashier machine! How can there be such idiots in this country!? Just leave the villager alone, why don't you! The old woman has put out a couple of jars to make 5 or 10 bucks, so tomorrow when her grandchildren come to visit her she could give them 10 bucks, because if she doesn't, next time even the grandchildren won't come to visit her...
On the humane treatment of animals...
- They say we should slaughter the pig in a humane way... But, if 10 people don't gather in the backyard, jumping on the back of the pig to cut its throat, so that the pig could squeak a little, you can't say a pig has been cooked for Christmas! If you don't hear a pig's squeaking it's almost as if no pig has been slaughtered! Do you not understand? They say we should treat it humanely, we should use electricity instead, or put injections, and such stuff... idiots. They should respect our people, *our* way of life(#1)!
On traditions...
- This is *our* way of life. Understand? Now you're gonna tell me a newborn baby shouldn't be smeared with lard. Huh!? If you don't smear a baby with lard its bones won't grow properly, understand?
Some miscellanea...
- Maybe they want to destroy us as a country? Heh, they may try. Even the Turks couldn't destroy us for 500 years. If "The" Europe wants to destroy us, we will destroy "The" Europe! We'll cut them, not they! Should I comment more?...
(then he becomes melancholic)
- To all emigrants... I'm crossing my fingers for you, my friends. I hope you'll come back one day and we'll sort this country out(#2). You're just taxi drivers there in Europe. I hope we'll be all right.
___________________________________________
(#1) This customs reminds of another barbaric ritual - in Eastern Bulgaria: where a dog is being tied by the legs on a rope, the rope is hung from a tree and the dog then spins in the air until it splashes into a creek, screaming with terror. It's supposed to drive the "evil spirits of winter" away or something. It caused huge controversy in recent weeks. (Don't watch this if you have a weak heart).
(#2) "Sorting this country out" has been the mantra of every politician ever since the Transition from Communism to Capitalism began, 21 years ago. It was a promise every politician has forgotten soon after getting elected. It has become a colloquialism that has symbolized the entire period.
* * *
Now the expert speaks. ;-) {[edit] But PLEASE, take this with a huge grain of salt - the salt of the land.} The confession of the mayor of Katuntsi shows some traits that have become emblematic for the post-communist societies of Eastern Europe. "We will destroy "The" Europe, not they - us!" is a sentiment many locals would actually sympathize with, while others would look uncomfortably at this aggressive defiance. The mayor's reflections on Euro-integration are like a quintessence of the Balkan mentality, which is locally called the Bay-Ganyo type that we simultaneously love as our own and are utterly ashamed of.
Although the mayor says some things that could call sympathies and are understandable (like his indignation with the evil inspectors who want to fine the poor old ladies for selling jars with jam and pickles), his assessments illustrate the deep rift between provincialism and civilization. Because there is such a huge divide here, and it's not so much a class divide, as it is between big-city / village, but mostly as a way of life and a mentality, not so much in the geographical sense. The Chalga music and the trite, kitsch culture that comes with it, has become another symbol of the latter.
I've been looking through the reactions on the BG webz, and a large number of people appeared to be in awe and delight with this interview, which is quite symptomatic. Some of his thoughts do cause sympathies, like his naive belief that the village will "sort this country out", as opposed to the decadent seaside resorts which are full of fraudsters and charlatans. It's the protest of the conservative, traditionalist redneck against the advance of civilization and the suspicion about change. His stunning confidence causes some respect, to some extent. Here's an ordinary guy, from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and he can still find the spirits and positive approach to wish the emigrants success, good luck, and a safe return (one day).
In the meantime, Mr Mayor is a genuine primitive, a mighty source of provincialism and backwardness. His fervent plea in defense of the old customs of slaughtering a pig in the backyard for Christmas is a kind of peak in his harangue. "If you don't hear a pig squeaking, then no pig has been cooked!" One could say that the pig's squeaking has become our way of life. 10 people would jump on it and it would squeak desperately. He's not just talking on behalf of those 12 old women in the village of Katuntsi, or those 10 men who jump on the pig. He's talking on behalf of many Balkan people.
What's another typical thing about the Balkan provincialism is to always speak your own mind, but present it collectively. What *I* think becomes "we think". It's the old habit of hiding behind the collective irresponsibility, inherited from the times of communism. "We", the 10 guys will jump on the pig, it'll squeak and pass away. We're a team, okay? But only when the others agree with me. There's no such option as having an other-thinker. We should be all the same, so you couldn't pick out one particular individual and punish him for the rest. And that's something inherited from the times of Ottoman rule: "The low-bent head won't be chopped off by the sword" is a principle which has made us obedient and quiet, and which on the other hand has allowed us to survive for millenia and to outlive multiple empires who came with a bang and then went away with no trace, and yet - here we are, still standing and laughing at them all. What a pride, eh?
And what about Europe? Europe can suck our balls, "understand"? "If Europe wants to destroy us, our way of life, *we* will destroy it instead!" And: "We've seen the demise of so many empires, we'll see to it that this one [EU] falls too". And: "Whichever alliance we've joined, it has collapsed - the Germans, the Austrians, the Soviets, everyone" (a compelling argument btw, and a nice warning to anybody who's thinking of becoming our ally, LOL).
One could notice the typical Balkan concepts like: "Ugh, this guy? Don't tell me about this guy, he's a moron". And: "These guys? They don't have the right to preach to me about anything. They're morons. I've seen it". And also: "Piss off, I'ma do things *my* way, okay!?" Or the outright "Fuck you all!" It's related to the old saying "No river is deeper than Iskar, no mountain is higher than Vitosha". Period. (Except Vitosha is not even the highest in the country, but it tells you much even about the splitting into tribes within this society). It represents an entire philosophy which has moved these societies for centuries.
When confined to the village, this mentality is more like a primitive, colorite, quaint ignorance, with a certain charm. But once transferred to the city and into modern society, it gets vulgarized (see again the Chalga culture), and evolves into a heavy grotesque. At its core is the inherent reticence, ignorance about the outer world, aloofness, an inferiority complex, a sense of insignificance compared to the wider world, which eventually manifests itself as enmity towards the civilized societies. Mixed with jingoism of the extremest kind: "We're bigger, better, stronger than Them. Our peppers and tomatoes are the most delicious, our wine is the best, our rakia is better than their whiskey, our yoghurt is known throughout the world, our Shopska salad, our kavarma, our moussaka, our hotch-potch is the bestestest, it's like nothing you've ever tasted, understand??"
"O, sancta simplicitas!", Jan Hus exclaimed from the burning stake while an old lady from the villagers was adding one more dry stick to his pyre, in order to help them burn him faster.
And the question doesn't end just with the ignorance and simplicitas of the provincialist mindset. Once moved to the city, these traits are developed along with the omnipresent suspicion that someone, somewhere, is plotting against you, devising ways to trick you. You see, Europe doesn't sleep. It's constantly planning how it'll fuck us, see? Someone said they wanted to help us about something? Naaah. They're not coming to help us. Rather, they want to enslave us, see? They want to sell us off, to destroy this perfect country (can't you see how perfect it is?)
This skepticism is a constant, as are the constant fears of the Balkan type that someone might trick them. The proverb says: "Make sure not to be tricked, and not to catch a cold" (there's a rhyme in the original language, though). The Balkan guy is in constant fear that he may find himself in the role of the doomed pig, with 10 guys sitting on its back with knives in their hands. And it squeaks and squeaks.
The attitude to the rest of the world is open animosity, mixed with a false sense of ungrounded superiority: the Turks - fuck you circumcised ass-fuckers; the Italians - frog eaters; the Germans - stupid robotic muffs; the French - tricky chameleons. And the Americans? Of course, where without the Americans? They're stupid, remember? Only Bay-Ganyo is smart, and always right, he's just the bestest! Period.
This interview with the mayor of a small village somewhere in Western Bulgaria became viral on the BG webz, spurring a cannonade of diverse comments, opinions and pranks, but also provoking some deep introspections and insights about our society and its neighbors.
Below follows a transcript of the interview (which is here presented as a monologue), plus my rough translation of this epochal tirade:
Oh, mayor, mayor...
- We, the provincial people will drag this country out of the crisis. The seaside resorts cannot drag the country out of the crisis - everybody there is a thug, a thief and a fraud. How is it possible to have 70 hotels with an ordinary salary, eh? Leave the villager alone. Let him look after his sheep and his goats.
This awesome land...
- Here's where the *real* life is, in *our* country. We have such a small country, but so beautiful! Here in our village Katuntsi we have awesome wine. It's no advert, it's true! Ads don't sell - nice taste sells! We have awesome beans, awesome potatoes, peach trees under the mountain... What else. Oh, wheat too! Awesome wheat. What else do you need? We have a sea - it's fabulous. Do you know that all around Europe there are just 3 inches of earth on the ground, everything else is rock! Can you show me a stone water faucet anywhere in Europe where you can drink on the road, eh? If they don't leave the villagers alone to move freely and work as they should... no one else can drag this country out of the crisis. Understand?
On jars, pickles, and technology...
- There's another, smaller village here. I'm a mayor of that one too, cuz there are just 18 people in that village. 12 of them are old women, most of them born around 1912, 1913... (!!!) We've got a nice church there; they put out some jars with jam and pickles, just like that, to sell on the street at the church. Just a couple of jars with chutney, and three jars with fig jam. And suddenly, some weird costumed types arrived from the city, playing the big boss and saying they're financial control and hygiene control. And they went to that old woman and told her that her jars didn't meet the EU standards. The hell with hygiene inspectors! The hell with EU! Such awesome jam they can't ever produce in the EU! Well, they *used* to produce it in the past, but not any more. Because this woman makes it out of *real* figs, with sugar... and she doesn't close it with a screw cap, she puts a cardboard cap on top and ties it with a cord. That's the *real* jam! Well, sure, it's mouldy on top, but it's awesome!
On financial control...
- And then this woman calls me and says "Hey mayor, some men came here blabbering something in some weird language, they say they're of our own but I still can't understand them". So I went there to check what's going on, and what do I see? Some smart asses were putting a cashier machine! The woman was born in 1912 and they're putting a cashier machine! How can there be such idiots in this country!? Just leave the villager alone, why don't you! The old woman has put out a couple of jars to make 5 or 10 bucks, so tomorrow when her grandchildren come to visit her she could give them 10 bucks, because if she doesn't, next time even the grandchildren won't come to visit her...
On the humane treatment of animals...
- They say we should slaughter the pig in a humane way... But, if 10 people don't gather in the backyard, jumping on the back of the pig to cut its throat, so that the pig could squeak a little, you can't say a pig has been cooked for Christmas! If you don't hear a pig's squeaking it's almost as if no pig has been slaughtered! Do you not understand? They say we should treat it humanely, we should use electricity instead, or put injections, and such stuff... idiots. They should respect our people, *our* way of life(#1)!
On traditions...
- This is *our* way of life. Understand? Now you're gonna tell me a newborn baby shouldn't be smeared with lard. Huh!? If you don't smear a baby with lard its bones won't grow properly, understand?
Some miscellanea...
- Maybe they want to destroy us as a country? Heh, they may try. Even the Turks couldn't destroy us for 500 years. If "The" Europe wants to destroy us, we will destroy "The" Europe! We'll cut them, not they! Should I comment more?...
(then he becomes melancholic)
- To all emigrants... I'm crossing my fingers for you, my friends. I hope you'll come back one day and we'll sort this country out(#2). You're just taxi drivers there in Europe. I hope we'll be all right.
___________________________________________
(#1) This customs reminds of another barbaric ritual - in Eastern Bulgaria: where a dog is being tied by the legs on a rope, the rope is hung from a tree and the dog then spins in the air until it splashes into a creek, screaming with terror. It's supposed to drive the "evil spirits of winter" away or something. It caused huge controversy in recent weeks. (Don't watch this if you have a weak heart).
(#2) "Sorting this country out" has been the mantra of every politician ever since the Transition from Communism to Capitalism began, 21 years ago. It was a promise every politician has forgotten soon after getting elected. It has become a colloquialism that has symbolized the entire period.
* * *
Now the expert speaks. ;-) {[edit] But PLEASE, take this with a huge grain of salt - the salt of the land.} The confession of the mayor of Katuntsi shows some traits that have become emblematic for the post-communist societies of Eastern Europe. "We will destroy "The" Europe, not they - us!" is a sentiment many locals would actually sympathize with, while others would look uncomfortably at this aggressive defiance. The mayor's reflections on Euro-integration are like a quintessence of the Balkan mentality, which is locally called the Bay-Ganyo type that we simultaneously love as our own and are utterly ashamed of.
Although the mayor says some things that could call sympathies and are understandable (like his indignation with the evil inspectors who want to fine the poor old ladies for selling jars with jam and pickles), his assessments illustrate the deep rift between provincialism and civilization. Because there is such a huge divide here, and it's not so much a class divide, as it is between big-city / village, but mostly as a way of life and a mentality, not so much in the geographical sense. The Chalga music and the trite, kitsch culture that comes with it, has become another symbol of the latter.
I've been looking through the reactions on the BG webz, and a large number of people appeared to be in awe and delight with this interview, which is quite symptomatic. Some of his thoughts do cause sympathies, like his naive belief that the village will "sort this country out", as opposed to the decadent seaside resorts which are full of fraudsters and charlatans. It's the protest of the conservative, traditionalist redneck against the advance of civilization and the suspicion about change. His stunning confidence causes some respect, to some extent. Here's an ordinary guy, from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and he can still find the spirits and positive approach to wish the emigrants success, good luck, and a safe return (one day).
In the meantime, Mr Mayor is a genuine primitive, a mighty source of provincialism and backwardness. His fervent plea in defense of the old customs of slaughtering a pig in the backyard for Christmas is a kind of peak in his harangue. "If you don't hear a pig squeaking, then no pig has been cooked!" One could say that the pig's squeaking has become our way of life. 10 people would jump on it and it would squeak desperately. He's not just talking on behalf of those 12 old women in the village of Katuntsi, or those 10 men who jump on the pig. He's talking on behalf of many Balkan people.
What's another typical thing about the Balkan provincialism is to always speak your own mind, but present it collectively. What *I* think becomes "we think". It's the old habit of hiding behind the collective irresponsibility, inherited from the times of communism. "We", the 10 guys will jump on the pig, it'll squeak and pass away. We're a team, okay? But only when the others agree with me. There's no such option as having an other-thinker. We should be all the same, so you couldn't pick out one particular individual and punish him for the rest. And that's something inherited from the times of Ottoman rule: "The low-bent head won't be chopped off by the sword" is a principle which has made us obedient and quiet, and which on the other hand has allowed us to survive for millenia and to outlive multiple empires who came with a bang and then went away with no trace, and yet - here we are, still standing and laughing at them all. What a pride, eh?
And what about Europe? Europe can suck our balls, "understand"? "If Europe wants to destroy us, our way of life, *we* will destroy it instead!" And: "We've seen the demise of so many empires, we'll see to it that this one [EU] falls too". And: "Whichever alliance we've joined, it has collapsed - the Germans, the Austrians, the Soviets, everyone" (a compelling argument btw, and a nice warning to anybody who's thinking of becoming our ally, LOL).
One could notice the typical Balkan concepts like: "Ugh, this guy? Don't tell me about this guy, he's a moron". And: "These guys? They don't have the right to preach to me about anything. They're morons. I've seen it". And also: "Piss off, I'ma do things *my* way, okay!?" Or the outright "Fuck you all!" It's related to the old saying "No river is deeper than Iskar, no mountain is higher than Vitosha". Period. (Except Vitosha is not even the highest in the country, but it tells you much even about the splitting into tribes within this society). It represents an entire philosophy which has moved these societies for centuries.
When confined to the village, this mentality is more like a primitive, colorite, quaint ignorance, with a certain charm. But once transferred to the city and into modern society, it gets vulgarized (see again the Chalga culture), and evolves into a heavy grotesque. At its core is the inherent reticence, ignorance about the outer world, aloofness, an inferiority complex, a sense of insignificance compared to the wider world, which eventually manifests itself as enmity towards the civilized societies. Mixed with jingoism of the extremest kind: "We're bigger, better, stronger than Them. Our peppers and tomatoes are the most delicious, our wine is the best, our rakia is better than their whiskey, our yoghurt is known throughout the world, our Shopska salad, our kavarma, our moussaka, our hotch-potch is the bestestest, it's like nothing you've ever tasted, understand??"
"O, sancta simplicitas!", Jan Hus exclaimed from the burning stake while an old lady from the villagers was adding one more dry stick to his pyre, in order to help them burn him faster.
And the question doesn't end just with the ignorance and simplicitas of the provincialist mindset. Once moved to the city, these traits are developed along with the omnipresent suspicion that someone, somewhere, is plotting against you, devising ways to trick you. You see, Europe doesn't sleep. It's constantly planning how it'll fuck us, see? Someone said they wanted to help us about something? Naaah. They're not coming to help us. Rather, they want to enslave us, see? They want to sell us off, to destroy this perfect country (can't you see how perfect it is?)
This skepticism is a constant, as are the constant fears of the Balkan type that someone might trick them. The proverb says: "Make sure not to be tricked, and not to catch a cold" (there's a rhyme in the original language, though). The Balkan guy is in constant fear that he may find himself in the role of the doomed pig, with 10 guys sitting on its back with knives in their hands. And it squeaks and squeaks.
The attitude to the rest of the world is open animosity, mixed with a false sense of ungrounded superiority: the Turks - fuck you circumcised ass-fuckers; the Italians - frog eaters; the Germans - stupid robotic muffs; the French - tricky chameleons. And the Americans? Of course, where without the Americans? They're stupid, remember? Only Bay-Ganyo is smart, and always right, he's just the bestest! Period.
