Confronting the visible and invisible in Plovdiv

When we first landed in Bulgaria, I was unaware of the extent that my preconceived notions of this place would shape my first impressions. Since we arrived and had the chance to explore a large area of the center of Plovdiv, I have encountered conflicting narratives between the preconceived ideas that I had about the city and what I could see before my eyes. Back in Amsterdam, during our conversations with Nikolai, Ludo and Alex I had formed a somewhat bleak outlook of Bulgaria, mostly the outlook of a poor country in the process of slow rebirth and progress since joining the European Union. Overall, the picture that I had painted of Bulgaria in my head was one of a nation that struggled with a displaced younger generation, segregation of ethnic communities, a history of occupation and ideology, and in the search for establishing their own identity within the EU and the globalized world. Not to say that those issues are not present here, but more as if they are not at the forefront, or strikingly visible, in the city center of Plovdiv (at least the part that I have seen and interacted with so far).

Ever since I first stepped in the cobblestones of the old town in Plovdiv, I found myself trying to find any clue or small detail within the environment that would confirm everything that I had been told or that I had read about the city and its people. Instead, at first, what I encountered was a city of people in constant movement, a chorus of children playing in the park and a beautiful architectural landscape. I noticed how the city has been rebuilt over the centuries and how the layers of its history can be seen in the architecture, from the Roman ruins to the influences from Western and Eastern cultures. At first glance, the city embraces and caters to the international tourist, as the city center is filled with English and Bulgarian signs, as well as the English menus and maps. The flag of the EU can be seen alongside the Bulgarian hanging from window balconies in the old town and along the streets in the city center. In the short time we have stayed, I have seen a variety of tourist come and go from our hostel. Not to mention that the locals have been welcoming, with some speaking English and willing to reach out, to connect or be overall helpful. Such as our hostel receptionist inviting some of us out to drinks or connecting with a girl at the supermarket because our common interest in photography. On the day we saw the group of children outside of their school smoking and listening to music, I noticed how they couldn’t help but to try to figure out who we were and where we are from as we walked past, and using their knowledge of the world and different languages to form a connection and reach out to us. I couldn’t help but feel almost as a spectacle to them, as they took selfies with us in the background and chatted up with our tourist guide. Overall, my first impression of Plovdiv is that at a surface level, the city is composed, well-kept, colorful, rich and vibrant. At first glance, I feel as I have encountered a city in the process of trying to achieve its full potential, catering to both tourist and local communities by keeping their city center well-kept and accessible. In addition, the ECOC program also seems to be attempting to represent these values.

The layers of history in Plovdiv. Picture taken by Mikela

Nonetheless, I have also noticed that you have to look a bit closer if you want to uncover some of the latent layers of history and culture. Once you look inside the windows of some of the beautiful architecture and colorful buildings, you can see abandoned rooms, broken class and dilapidation. In the backstreets behind the main walking street of the city center there might be one or two Roma people begging for coins with a cup. Around a sharp corner there might be a swastika spray painted on the side of a building. Or once you speak to a local, you understand the extent of budget cuts affecting their work and living standards. It becomes apparent that in Plovdiv there is more than meets the eye. The beautiful landscape that is presented to the average tourist is not all there is to this city. Just like there are several layers of Roman ruins hidden beneath the surface of the modern buildings, there is more to Plovdiv and its internal struggles with racism, segregation and economy than what is apparent at first glance of the city. I was struck to learn that most ECOC activities involving the Roma people in Plovdiv were “invisible”, working with children and attempting to bring them to the city rather than encouraging a mutual mobility between both groups. After the last few days that we’ve been here I have begun to wonder about the ways that the city represents itself to tourist and the global community, and, in that process, what is swept under the rug, kept hidden or made invisible.