Sun, Nov 22 2009
About 18 results were found.
When I was about 11 and my brother, Dustin, was about nine, Indiana Jones was a pretty cool guy. Narrowly escaping the ceiling's descending spikes, running from spear-wielding people or fending off a pit full of snakes while still holding onto your hat was impressive. And one summer day, after seeking a game in the neighbour's garage, Dustin decided to press the button, wait until the very last minute, and dive
Ah, Turkey. It's all about perspective, isn't it? As a foreigner, it's a land where the national sense of success blinds you with every gleaming set of entrepreneurial eyes, the haunting call to prayer actually inspires people to bow their head and the bath strips your soul and skin into relaxing submission. Where the blend of melon tobacco, mint tea and men's cologne seem to linger comfortable on the bench of every park
Like a drop of blood on a cement floor, the Red House Centre for Culture and Debate is hard to miss. Its crimson- and cotton-coloured square reaches away from those traditional Bulgarian blocks along Lyuben Karavelov, making a bold and beautiful statement. But that's only an introduction. The sometimes sordid, often surreal and always thought-provoking discoveries you'll make within its
There is a Moroccan restaurant in the United States. It's called Matam Fez and it sits on the sometimes dodgy, but always colorful, Colfax, the longest east-west road in the country. Matam Fez is full of theme, educating eastern-culture-seeking citizens of Colorado's new west with belly dancers, rose-water splash rituals, utensil-less meals, impractical cushions, sweet-savoury combinations, glittering textiles, and a long
Are cultural training courses a necessary part of the integration process, or a ridiculous, even harmful attempt to repackage,commercialise and sell `culture'? ANDREA ENRIGHT and NEIL CONNOLLY don their gloves to fight it out in the cultural training debate, while EKATERINA DIMITROVA invites you to join her in an integration experiment. You make the final call - cultural training OK, or
I'm not fond of the American suburbs. My husband and I have an oft-repeated our pledge to live in the woods before succumbing to gate-encircled trees, office parks, cul-de-sacs and Applebees. But perhaps even worse than residential suburbia is the sleep-inducing mix of cement, grass and glass that constitute an office complex. And the strangest thing happened on the way to Taco Cafe. All I could see was
Thracian religion centred around life, death, and fertility. The Slavs were Nordic and obsessed with the sun and the moon. The Thracians were great warriors with independent tribes, while Slavic culture was agricultural and conservative. The Thracians brought us Kukeri traditions and Baba Marta. The Slavs gave us the traditional circular Bulgarian folk dances and the lucky number three. Without knowing it,
If you happen to be walking past the national library in Sofia on Wednesday May 24 you will most likely see a crowd of people gathered around the statues in front of the building, some of them laying flowers. This is because May 24 is Bulgarian Education and Culture, and Slavonic Literature Day. The statues are of the two brothers Cyril and Methodius (usually referred to as Kyril i Methodi in Bulgarian), who invented the
We wanted fish. We craved fish. We missed fish. But we weren't brave enough to cook fish in Bulgaria. Accustomed to a life of papaya-lined swordfish, strawberry-infused sushi and copper river salmon, we were starving for seafood. Because not only is fish light and flavourful, but it's loaded with Omega 3 oils which are, according to just about everyone, essential to good health. So my upcoming dinner was
There's something about secrets that truly feeds the ego. When one becomes a player or even mute participant in sometimes sordid, always private details - anything from a pregnancy to a pirated operation - the human head expands to allow the size of such privilege and trust. I had been looking for this place called "candlebar" since we arrived in Sofia, having heard endless stories about the mysterious knock-requirement
The Bulgarian Business Leader's Forum (BBLF) is a good example of how CSR and corporate giving, specifically, is evolving - and stumbling - across the Balkans. Twelve multinational companies and NGOs, inspired by the dream of business ethics, created this organisation in 1998 to spread the word about transparent profits, long-term vision and sustainability. In 2005, the BBLF produced a responsible business
The term "corporate social responsibility" has been tossed around for a few years now. It sounds pretty important, doesn't it? Something you might say at the Board meeting or a cool phrase to include on a resume. But where's the substance? And is it more than just a phrase for Bulgarian businesses? I've realised that CSR is somewhat similar to a rediscovered and renovated monument; complete with curious
When I visited World Learning to interview Matt Brown, Matt and I had the kind of meeting most often seen in after-school specials. Both carrying ourselves at people-with-a-purpose speed, we approached a hallway corner head-on and nearly hit. I'm certain had we been carrying textbooks, they would have come crashing to the floor. So quick was Matt on his feet, that he prevented the crash, introduced
Parakram Lazarus begins his hour-long journey to work each afternoon at about 3pm, eventually crawls into bed about 4am, wakes up about 12.30pm to 1pm, and then takes care of home life in the two hours that remain until he has to leave for work again. But Parakram is not a bartender. Nor is he a novelist whose thoughts are driven by the dark. He's a Manager of Retention and Escalations with the difficult job of
I believe Inga Kaskelyte is a bit of a nomad, and though she was surprised to hear me say this following our two-hour conversation, she promptly agreed. Over the past 15 years, she's called Lithuania, the Czech Republic, the UK and Bulgaria, home, and is now fluent in English, Polish, Russian, Czech and her mother tongue, Lithuanian. urthermore, she and her husband Steve have yet to put down any real roots.
Claire Hamlisch is American, but I wasn't convinced until she told me. A childhood in Italy and a 30-year career with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) has blessed this well-spoken woman with an accent all her own. It is a voice that storytells, educates and beckons with the cadence of your favourite blues melody and the texture of an experienced humanitarian worker. A refugee's
When I left my Peace Corps host family in Kostenets to begin my new life in Bulgaria's capital of wisdom, my host Baba, Magdalena, a wonderful, strong woman, made sure I was prepared. Not only did she include chubritza (savoury herb), copper (dill), and my favourite pickled salata, but two pairs of knitted slippers and an oversized wool sweater vest for those cold zima nights. Knitting is an old tradition in Bulgaria
Evgenia Anachkova resides in Sofia. But until recently, she didn't really have a home. With buckling floors, crumbling walls, broken doorframe and drafty windows, Evgenia, her mother and her four children, aged 11 to 18, did not possess what one considers decent living conditions. That was last September. Now, her beautiful apartment boasts new windows, hidden, but powerful insulation, a stronger foundation
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