Well, I'm about a week into rehearsals here for my show at the Nikolai Binev Youth Theatre in Sofia. I've begun to adapt to the truncated rehearsal day and have essentially gotten through a full table exploration of the text. Rehearsals have been a combination of psychology sessions, artistic discussions and philosophical treatises on love, choice, and change, all focused through the lens of a NATO meeting. I feel like I should write you a huge blog post about this past week's rehearsals.
But what I really want to write about is getting lost in Sofia.
Let me explain: It all started with a quest for Christmas decorations. I was determined to bring some holiday cheer to my apartment. Like Auntie Mame, I needed a little Christmas. And, yes, right this very minute. So, on the advice of some of my friends here, I set out for the Mall of Sofia. The Mall of Sofia (MoS) is probably only about 10 blocks from my apartment. Once I'm out my door, I know exactly in which direction to go.
However, I headed out at around 6:30pm and the weather was more like the Moors of Scotland than Bulgaria: ridiculously thick fog blanketed the city. And about 10 minutes into my trip, I still hadn't come upon the Mall. I had made it to the Opalchenska subway stop, but I could swear that I should've made it to the Mall by now. People hurried by in a post-work rush and I was lost in the fog. I was nearly expecting an appearance of the Bulgarian Hound of the Baskervilles... So, I put on my best "lost American tourist" face and asked "Mall of Sofia?" with what I hoped would be considered sincerity. Apparently, it did not translate into the Eastern European equivalent of "I'm an axe murderer" since a young Sofian businessman stopped to give me directions. Apparently, I was only one block away, but the fog was so thick it was impossible to see the building from even this close a distance. The guy walked me through the underpass under the road.
"Where are you from?", asked the man in his smart portmanteau.
"From New York".
"Oh! How do you like it here?"
"It's great!", I replied. "I love it!"
He looked doubtful. "Really?" He continued: "What brings you here?"
"I'm directing a show here", I responded. He seemed a bit puzzled. Perhaps it's not part of his vocabulary, I thought, and switched to a sentence I knew I could crank out in Bulgarian: "Аз съм режисьор (I am a director)". His eyes registered acknowledgement and he seemed impressed. They value artists differently here, it seems...
"Ah!", he said. "Great!" We had gotten to where we were to part ways and I told him where and when my premiere was. The best marketing is personal and what marketing could be better than meeting the director, n'est-ce pas? ;)
He repeated the rest of the directions to make it to MoS and left the underpass, re-emerging into the night, making my way past an accordion duo on my way to the mall.
One block later, I was safe inside the Mall....which, unsurprisingly, looked distinctly like any other mall anywhere else. Three floors of retail, movies and food, decked out for the holidays. Substitute The Gap, Sephora and Benetton for Terranova, Beauty Market and, well, Benetton and I think you get the idea.
Well, unfortunately, they didn't have any Christmas decorations to buy. I mean, really?! No, wait, I take that back. There was one stall selling ornaments, but what good are ornaments without a tree?
So, I phoned Petar, my mentor here, and he suggested I come over for dinner. I agreed, but there was a catch: I had to order and bring dinner. A challenge for the Bulgarian impaired director. Not one to shy away from a challenge, I picked up the telephonic gauntlet and set out for Petar's apartment and for food...
To be continued...
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