edensgarden's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moth balls and Tea Isn't it funny how sometimes old people smell like moth balls? We just had an older gentleman in the office with such a scent. Seeing him walk and talk and smelling the smell which he gave off brought back a flood of memories. The first moemory that came to mind was the summer of 1995. I had just arrived on the scene in Bulgaria and was trying to figure out this strange land and its inhabitants. Many of the people that I met were older and lived simple lives in the mono-style Communist apartment blocks. These apartments were simple 3 room structures. To save money many times people would just live in the kitchen. But when people came to visit, they would be ushered in to the living room. Heavy curtains would be drawn back disturbing the slumbering dust and revealing a room that time forgot. Bright-fuzzy orange or green slip-covers blanketed the couches. While the walls were covered with wallpaper that displayed a scene. These were my favorite walls. In America these were popular for six months in 1969, and anyone today that had a scene such as this would be considered tacky. I just figured that since the government wouldn't let the people go away, they created their own getaway in their living rooms with these wallpaper murals. Our older host, so happy with the prospect of company, would offer tea and cookies or a small piece of candy. I remember the first time I had Bulgarian tea. The lady that prepared it pulled flowers and sticks out of a plastic bag and seeped these in a small pan on the stove. I was hesitant at first to drink this concoction. I hated tea, I didn't know what I was about to put into my body. Rather than offend this woman, I drank the tea. To my great astonishment it was delicious. I'd never before tasted anything like it. To this day, I relish the sweet fragrance and flavor of the Linden flower. What a great memory, thanks Mr. Moth Ball. It's 5 pm and I have to get home, to my fuzzy-orange couch and mural on the wall.
3:46 p.m. - 2001-07-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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