Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Conversations

I remember very clearly when I came out to my parents as bisexual. Admittedly, I put it in different words, I was in a heterosexual relationship at the time and was on the phone. Yet I was still unsure what to expect.It all went surprisingly well, I think. And here is another such story.

My friend, S, was on her way to meeting me when she overheard a conversation. She shared it with me and since then, the story has stayed with me, so I wanted to share it.

A girl and a boy were walking in front of her, let's call them Emily and Tom. Tom had always been afraid of coming out to his parents. Mind you, this is liberal England we're talking about. This Tom had recently been dating someone and had broken up with him, let's call him Stephan. Stephan was still very much in love with Tom and wanted to keep him in his life, whatever the cost. So, he made a low desperate move. He blackmailed Tom to stay with him, else he would tell Tom's parents that he was gay. Tom was afraid and considered staying with Stephan but of course he soon realised the inevitability facing him. Tom decided, despire his great fear, to speak to his parents- not only did he not want to stay with Stephan, he also wanted to be free of any power Stephan may have over him, for holding his secret. He spoke to his parents and, to his great surprise, they accepted him without judgement and criticism. This is the story Tom told his friend Emily, while my friend S was walking to meet me.

I simply find it somewhat of a mood-lifter to know that Tom's life changed for the better and he now feels accepted and calmer, and it all came out of unrequited love and blackmail. I am sure many of you may know people who have been through it, have been through coming out themselves or are yet to take such a step. Maybe your family disapproves of the sexuality or the race or age of your partner. Everyone has a different story, but should you need advice, I only have one advice to give- be honest and respectful to yourself and the people who you love. Tell them the truth, stand your ground and show respect for them- you are having a hard time, but they may be experiencing just as many difficulties- to accept you, to accept themselves, to accept that they are not as open minded as they thought... Hopefully, (yes, it's a cliché and you know what is coming) at the end of it you will find yourself stronger, freer and closer to your family

It is your life, you only have one of it and, in my opinion, living a  lie is not living at all.

Monday, 7 March 2011

Chocolate

Just before Christmas I applied for a job at chocolate company Green and Black's. The job was one of a taste assistant with elements of participating in a marketing campaign for new flavours. I was thrilled at the prospect to work for a fairtrade company, whose products I loved and who would give me the opportunity to be included in a marketing campaign as well as chocolate tasting!

A few days ago I saw that an envelope with my name and a Green and Black's sticker had arrived. I curiously opened it and a few seconds later I realised what it was.

This, literally, was the sweetest rejection I've received in my life.

They informed me that, regretably, my job application could not be processed any further as they had received more than 3000 applications for the job, but they appreciated the effort I'd put into the application and sincerely hoped I would enjoy the enclosed: 2 chocolate bars- one milk and one dark chocolate.

These are still on my desk, where I look at them and have small bites of tasty rejection....

Friday, 21 January 2011

The bystander effect

Twice in one day I was presented with a situation where the importance of the bystander effect stood out. It's not just a phenomenon studied by psychology, it is extremely real and applicable in my life. 
My "to do" list for my last day in Sophia before returning to Birmingham was long, and while going places, i'd gone hungry. I noticed a supermarket and just as I was about to walk through the sliding doors, I saw with a my peripheral vision an old lady, begging. She looked at me and said:
-Hey girl, could you buy me something to eat when you go in? I am really hungry... maybe something with rice. 
I smiled at her, said "yes, of course". There was no way, after she had asked me and been so specific about what she wanted and how hungry she was, that I would just leave her there, especially on a particularly cold day. I came out after a few minutes with a big portion of stuffed peppers with rice. I gave it to her, she thanked me and I left. 
The whole story couldn't have taken more than 3 minutes. Yet, it stayed with me. I thought about it: if she had just extended her hand and asked for money, not addressing anyone in particular but hoping for the kindness of all, she probably would have stayed hungry. Instead, she looked me in the eye, she didn't ask for money but for food. I don't have the heart to deny an old lady food. I won't lie, a part of me thought "What if this was my grandmother on the street? I would want to take care of her. What makes my grandmother better than this woman in the cold, except for different genes?" 
------------------------------------------------------
Just an hour or two later, i was still walking around Sophia, getting things done, annoyed at the bureaucracy of the National Revenue office. On my way there, I saw a young boy, about 20, charming smile, asking pedestrians for a minute of their time, to give them a well rehearsed speech about a child in need, for whom donations are necessary. I stopped, I let him give me the prerehearsed talk and donated. 
ME: I guess you haven't gotten many donations today. Do you want an advice?
HIM: Uhm...sure. 
ME: You approach people in the wrong way. It's a cold day and people are busy, so they don't particularly care about what you have to say because they know by your tone that you want something from them.You can break their natural response to you, by breaking your own pattern of approaching. "Hi, can i  have a minute of your time?" gives them the option of saying no. Instead, assume you can have a minute of their time because what you have to say is important. Also, ask them a silly attention-grabbing question: what did you get for christmas, for example. When you ask, target one person only because if you address the masses, they feel no obligation to talk to you. Then, you can tell them what you're on about and make sure to drop your prerehearsed speech. They are individuals, not numbers, just like these pedestrians need to realise that the children you're trying to help are individuals, not numbers.

He stood there, a little confused. He said he'd definitely try. I do get a great pleasure from talking to strangers.I like to take them out of their predictable and scheduled days, if I see a potential for a nice chat. This was a text book example. Yes, i felt good for giving an advice that was bound to do a better job than what he was already doing, but mostly I hope that the kid who needed an expensive surgery abroad may get it sooner. 

We only have on life and we cannot spend it afraid to talk to strangers, to hold real conversations, no matter how brief. And we shouldn't put so much effort in avoiding the resonsibility of being a part of a society. Just because we don't know these other people on the street, it doesn't mean we're not all connected. 

Friday, 7 January 2011

During the commercial break

I was in the TV today. My pleasant duty, as a future television professional, is to watch as much  TV production as possible live. In bTV in particular, i must have been tens of times by now, yet the excitement from seeing the lit sets, the cameras, the musicians has gone down only a little since the first time. But you know what the odd thing is? Hand in hand with this excitement goes the comfort that I belong there; not today, maybe not even in a few years, but this is home. 

Tonight I was in bTV again, in Slavi's show which is the biggest evening talk show in Bulgaria. I don't watch it often, yet it is by far the best quality of production that you'll find. Magic happens... I get chills down my spine- the band sounds like they're playing at a live concert, a controversial, famous, charismatic and very tall figure comes down and the audience go wild with clapping. 


The first half went well, I incidentally saw Krassi Radkov, one of the actors, just as he was about to enter the set. I was so close that for the first time I saw all the make up, how and where the fake nose was attached, none of which is ever visible on the screen of course. 

Then, after 25 minutes, commercial break came. 

As the show is recorded 2 hours before, commercial breaks become a stretchy notion. The band and one of the singers started to play Maroon 5 to entertain the audience as make up artists were powdering Slavi's bald head, when Slavi interrupted with the categorical remark that the audience were bored with these songs and that the whole crew were there to entertain, not put to sleep an 80 people audience. Slavi then continued by describing the sogs they lately played with the adjective I'd never personally use-"gay"- and that maybe the band ought to sing a real "man's"song. He wanted to see the audience genuinely entertained, not idly clapping to what they were tired of hearing on the radio, but instead to be moved by songs which say something. To my biggest surprise & greatest pleasure, Slavi offered, as a symbol of a man's song, Frank Sinatra. What followed was a slight uncomfortable giggle on the part of the male singer who had just been criticised for his gay performance of silly radio songs. This I personally can only interpret as the nervous reaction to a request that he came out of his comfort zone to sing a song which bears some history, a song which has been given the gift of time and recognition. With the arrangement that there is only one Frank, it was a pleasant version we received tonight. Yet I was more wondering whether the reaction of the audience would match what Slavi had hoped and to my surprise and indeed fulfilling what I, and Slavi, had hoped, people cheered, clapped, whistled, sat up and smiled. In this country where chalga, club Biad, profanity and men with 3 inch penises but 30 inch biceps rule, I was speechless yet smiling ear to ear to see that the mass is still moved by a classical song. Simple, old-timer song by a guy with warm voice singing about the importance of doing one's life " my  way".

Monday, 3 January 2011

Meeting the New 2011 in a kiosk

Hello lovelies. This is the blog about the little moments that make our life human.


The infidel that I am, I have given up trying to achieve a grand New Year celebration because, let's face it, it's half as fabulous and twice as expensive as you plan it to be. In an attempt to secure a good time, I decided to celebrate with my wife (a.k.a. "Y"). Believe it or not, we cooked banitsa with 30 fortunes to share between us two, I cooked some bloody steak with a mean cheese sauce, and we nailed it!... At 11.30 we were slowly balancing, arm in arm, on the slippery ice on our way to a friend's party nearby. We hoped to find an open shop on our way, to get some party-fuel. 

Here is the moment that I wanted to share with you today: we found one. 

Inside, with no TV or other form of entertainment visible to us, sat a man. Outside was -13 degrees, there were 25 minutes left until the new year but this man was not with his family, not with his friends, not even alone at home in front of the TV. He was alone, selling alchocol & cigarettes to everyone else who could afford to go out to celebrate. Surely, to sell was better than not to sell, but didn't every sale of a bottle of wine to red-cheeked, jolly strangers remind him that he was stuck working in the cold?

Y. & I spoke about it for a bit, then cheered up & had a great New Year. I am glad we were together, that we were healthy and could afford not to work when one should celebrate. Even if it is a lame celebration when most people tell stories about a "crazy, sick" night, which they don't remember because they drank all the booze that the kiosk man sold them at 11.35pm on Dec 31st.