Green Bird Farm, Bulgaria, Sep-Oct 2020

Green Bird Farm, August 2020

At the farm

I went to the ostrich farm a few more times and finally met other volunteers there. Many who wanted to come this year had to cancel their plans because of the travel restrictions.  So during my first 2 visits, I was the only volunteer there.

The main job was to feed the big birds and their chicks. There were also eggs and feathers to collect.

The farm owners were getting ready for winter and butchered the ostriches one by one. Only the breeders will be left to see the next year.

Not to be wasted, ostrich feathers were washed and sold too.

One day, I spent almost all my time at the farm packing eggshells into bubble wrap.

I also did some painting. One of the volunteers, Chris made new roofs for goose houses. I painted these roofs and a house wall.

The boat lady

I met at the farm Francis, a British woman who spent half of her life in Turkey teaching English. Somehow, her initial 2-year contract turned into 30 years. Francis learned Turkish and liked living there until recently when Erdogan made foreigners and intellectuals unwelcome.

Before that happened, Francis bought a boat and started to live on it permanently. Two months ago, she moved her boat to Bulgaria and moored it at Varna’s marina.

There were certain rules and restrictions for boaters in Varna that a free spirit like Francis did not want to accept. The family that owns the ostrich farm has a land parcel on the shore of Lake Varna. They allowed Francis to keep her boat there for a small fee and that solved the problem.

Francis offered to show me her boat. She came to the farm on a motorcycle. It had a second seat but there was no helmet for me and I never rode a motorcycle in my life.

‘Oh sorry, that you are going to have your first ride with me,’ said Francis. I braced myself for being scared, climbed on the other seat, grasped the handle behind me with one hand and Francis’ waist with the other and we were off.

The first section of the road was unpaved, with potholes and bumps. The motorcycle bounced but at least we were going slowly. Once we reached the main road to Varna, Francis accelerated. The wind threatened to blow away my glasses, the motorcycle listed left and right when the road turned.

When we came to a small hill the engine coughed and stalled.

‘Oh, we ran out of fuel,’ noted Francis as if it was of minor interest.

‘Will we walk from here?’ asked I.

‘No, we only need to get over this hill. The road goes down from there. We will just roll all the way to the boat.’

Feeling that she did not do enough to cheer me up, Francis added that once she rode 48 km without fuel in Turkey.

The motorcycle struggled to go up.

‘Please, please get to the top,” begged Francis and made upward pushing movements in her seat. Somehow, it worked. We flew downhill with a stopped engine. I sat frozen still on my back seat and prayed to get to the boat alive. As Francis promised, 10 minutes later we were at the boat.

Francis pulled to the shore a dinghy, we climbed into it and she rowed to the boat.

Francis made a quick meal for both of us; we sat down to eat and to talk.

Life was not easy for a single female in Turkey where the society is dominated by men. It was hard to ride a bus or to walk on the street without attracting male attention. Fellow mariners stole belongings from her boat; they did that not because they needed these items but to make her leave. Francis had to protect herself and the boat, and to show that she was entitled to the same rights as men. She was tough and friendly at the same time. In the end, Francis earned respect and a place among the Turks.

When it was time for me to leave, Francis filled her motorcycle and took me to the bus stop in Varna. I expected the second ride to be more frightening than the first one because I already knew what I should be afraid of, but I actually enjoyed it. If I had had a helmet on it would have been a really pleasant ride.

Bulgaria to Greece, October 2020