After spending five special days in Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, for the first time I board a plane of the Bulgarian Air company, which will carry me to my next destination on this journey without (many) plans that I am making in tribute to the 20 years since my pilgrimage on the Way to Santiago.
Since it is forbidden to turn on your computer before and during take-off, I take a look at the airline magazine. Like all other airline company magazine, I know that it will describe the marvels of the country, which I am not very interested in because my visit has been wonderful, so nobody has to tell me again how marvelous the place is. Years ago, during the extremely harsh communist regime when no-one could visit the country, a Brazilian author wrote a book questioning the very existence of Bulgaria: he claimed that he had never known a soul who had come here. So, maybe it was all one big conspiracy to make us believe in a reality that did not exist. The book, of course, is very funny, without any criticism of the Bulgarians, but it does explore the fact that the collective imagination can sometimes be manipulated.
I am thinking of that writer as I read the airline magazine when suddenly, among the pages where normally you find advice about hotels, restaurants and boarding procedures, I come across something that fascinates and surprises me:
A] Walking through the center of Sofia means having to confront cars parked on the sidewalk, people hooting their horns in your ears, dogs straying loose on the street, and holes that appear without any notice to warn pedestrians.
B] If you want to take a bus, remember that the doors are small, so there is a good chance that you will hurt yourself while boarding. Toss a one-lev coin (the local currency) in the driver’s lap, shout where you want to get off, and be aware that the buses do not always respect bus stops. Don’t let that put you in a bad mood.
C] If you’re driving, take all the following items into account: a driver’s license, passport, stainless-steel nerves, eyes that must not blink for an instant, traffic lights that look like hieroglyphics (Bulgaria uses the Cyrillic alphabet), and mad drivers.
D] When you stop at a traffic light, be prepared to see your car surrounded by a crowd of children ready to clean your windshields: be firm, don’t accept!
E] Traffic policemen are “prodigiously venal” and are watching out for you. Behave like a saint, do not stress out, not unless you want to pay an “on-the-spot fine”, which is simply a bribe.
F] Bulgaria has a high crime rate, but please relax! You will be as safe or unsafe here as in New York, London, Paris or any other big city.
G] The lighting is awful during the night.
H] Shopkeepers never have change. Ask at your hotel for low-value bills, otherwise you run the risk of waiting for twenty minutes while the salesperson goes to the neighbor or to the closest bank to get change.
I] To get back to the buses: some of them have a terrifying machine at the door, and you have to discover fast how to extract your ticket from there. Remember that public transportation is paid everywhere in the world. Of course, chances are great that during your journey you will see inspectors boarding the bus and asking the passengers for their tickets, but most of them won’t have tickets, so there will be an argument and they will all end up having to pay a fine. Since you have overcome all these problems by already buying a ticket, you can watch all these arguments without any fear.
Let’s be honest: almost any big city in the world suffers from most of these problems (the ticket situation, for example, is something I have experienced in Amsterdam). But this is the first time that an airline company has ever mentioned such problems. Congratulations on having the courage to do so, this has made me love the country and its people all the more.
The next text will be posted on the 26th of May.
P.S: Dear reader,
During this journey, that is filling my soul with very interesting experiences, one of the most magical moments comes every night when I read the comments posted on this blog. Even though I can’t answer all of you, I want you to know that it’s very important to me to know that I’m not alone on this path. Thank you so much for your support and for the words and ideas that are now engraved on my heart.
Paulo Coelho
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4 December 2006
Paulo,
I’m afraid this is not about the “Twenty years later: let’s be honest”.
The first time that I read your book, “Veronica decides to die” I thought I was reading the very lines that I have written in my journals and those that have crossed my mind but did not have the courage nor the passion to write. It was my thoughts manifested itself in writing. I have read a lot of your books and it was like looking in the clear running water of a river: I see my self’s reflection, yet it is not me. And I see depth and spirit, (I was about to say “more than my own” but that somehow sounded like an insult to the common spirit that dance among us people)… I see depth and spirit like my own, but different.
Now, I seek the same wisdom that lately seems to elude me. I reread the Warrior of the Light in the hope that I might find what I am looking for. Like a hesitant believer “bible-cutting” (randomly opening the bible in hope that the word of the lord might be revealed in the document in their hands), I randomly seek the Net, ask the runes, and the tarots, and the stars and the wind for answers to questions that plague me.
Now, I turn to you, like a wandering leaf that falls to the gentle river that knows its path towards the ocean. I seek guidance from a mentor I have yet to meet. The specific questions in my mind I have yet to capture, .. Yet I know that I have to write this and somehow reach you, or somebody, who knows, or have known even if it was just a glimpse, of the wisdom of the universe.
Maybe I am seeking guidance, or a sign that I am indeed following the right path. I have long recognized my need for assurance, a material or “physical” manifestation of the “answers” that I sought. Faith is something that comes hard from me, and yet I believe that there is something that I believe in, even though I am still in the process of distilling what I want to believe in.
I do want to believe in angels, and signs… But I don’t know how.
Karina
dear paulo i am very sad becouse yo don-t heave a traduction in roumanian nowere and you don-t tell anything about the visit in roumania .
if you had any idea what chain of events the alchemist led me into…i was emersed in darkness,though i perceived it not,plunged into an abyss,spiralled all the way down,clawed my way out inch by inch all cut bruised and a shattered soul,five years later on my ‘path’ there was light,and all of a sudden as fate would lead me to do what i did,i tuned into some obscure radio station and the alchemist story”s being told,lights no floodlights!! lotsa them switched on in one given moment and burned brighter and brighter,i am on another path now..the same one.except the worlds a much brighter place.God bless your soul Mr Coelho,from the bottom of my heart,everything i went thru was as a result of my choices.i had to go thru what i did to get to where im going,its the way of the world.God is truely Great.i love u lots Riaaz 42. cape town
Hello,
Ahhhh the results of revealing the ‘TRUTH’ as so many!
So far, in my life, almost each time I have spoken my truth I have regretted my mouth in action. Speaking my truth has resulted in being reproached but most numbing is to have been removed from my family.
This past week I’ve attended and also been a volunteer at the Sydney Writer’s Festival so I’ve emersed in a wide varity of truth expressed in both ‘fact or fiction.’
The result is that I am finding a path of expression and truth in a collective voice. So the many barking dogs, narrow doors, finger biting ticket boxes, pot holes and dim lighting etc, etc, etc…may have served me well?
Tomorrw I sit and listen to an Australian ‘Elder’ of Storytelling. To-night I go to my Dreaming enriched by the company of writers and readers and the people on this blog and all who are inspired by our Mentor Paulo.
walk gently Christine
Thank you Paulo fo rsharing your life.
I have screamed since the moment I was born, vague recollections in that split second went through my mind. I screamed of what I had left behind and screamed for what was before me in my long life. Growing up I was always fearful, of what I do not know. As a young adult growing into a woman I wasted so much time trying to make others happy – friends, family, those at work, men… the list is endless. By the age of twenty five it had exhausted me so much I gave it up. I soon learned that people didn’t like you being yourself, not conforming to their idea of what life was about didn’t please them. Many times my mother would say “why can’t you be like everyone else, whats the matter with you?” My dad would grumble behind his newspaper that “I wasn’t right in the head”! Many friends would whisper that “I couldn’t give a toss about anything” and many, many more whispers that were just loud enough for my ears to hear.
People who know my life think I have had a hard life, a struggle, a fight for everything that I have ever needed or wanted… Myself, well I think I have lived a grand life, and I wouldn’t change a thing, it has been great fun and such an adventure. People have come and gone over the years only those who are adventurous to live a true life are the ones I pass again and again somewhere down the line. We meet, make merry, share and then part knowing that the other is about to start another adventure. Don’t you just love life?
Don’t strive for happiness, contentment, pleasure, a new house, clothes or car. Strive for life and living it as you please…
I send you all love, light and everything life can throw at you – just so you know your alive!
Wendy
Dear Paulo,
I have just finished reading your last book “Byc jak plynaca rzeka” (in Polish) and I want to say: Thank you.
I am sending you warm greetings from Warsaw. Today is it a very rainy day but still you can feel beautiful spring in the air.
I hope to meet you soon in Poland, may be sometimes in June? If you need any help to organize your visit just give a ring :)
Take care,
Danuta
dearest mr coelho,
i decided to visit your official site today after a very long time and found out that u now have a blog. such a very long time that is. i have just finished reading the zahir. i’ve read others of yours such as eleven minutes, the alchemist, by the river piedra i sat down and wept and also the warrior of light which happens to be a life companion.
i am truly blessed to have read such writings which continue to inspire me over and over again.
u’ve heard this a million times perhaps, and im sure u’ll continue to hear it as time passes by.
thank you for sharing ur thoughts with the world.
may God bless you in your future undertakings.
best regards, juliana
Hi everybody, hi Paulo. Here is another funny thing, a little bit of my heart to all you people:
Guess wich is the greatest
advertising space
there are lots
but there are two
that are the best
Hi from a pilgrim at crossroads,
Have heard a story. A man was terrified he would get blind and cried, cried, he was devastated. This man was consoled only by one of his friends, who himself was almost completely blind, able to see as much as from the top of a pin. Whether truly generous towards us is the person, who lost something or maybe we are able to accept generosity only from such a person? Every travel is a loss, a consciously looked for at the beginning, in the middle or at the end, it always is inevitably forthcoming. We are aware of it and nevertheless travel. Why.
Maybe in order to become more generous or give a chance to others to accept our generosity.
Take care,
sophia
What a journey! I dream of also walking the Road to Santiago. Read all your books!
Regards,
Jose
Miami, florida
P.S. thanks for the signed post card you sent from Rio.
Dear Paulo
This is for Marian.
Marian it’s a beautiful poem, from a beautiful person.
Thanks for sharing it with us, and thanks to all the contributors and fellow pilgrims for sharing their ideas and poems. This blog feels like home.
Maria
Dear Paolo! Today I went little Way about which want to tell. I got up in the morning local time in 10-30. Washed. Got down on breakfast. Nothing climbed. I took an a swig at 2 glasses of apple juice and rose in a number. Dush’ accepted, dressed all clean and tied a yellow scarf on a neck. Left hairs free. Called at a restaurant, to have a drink on a path glass of green to tea, and took interest at a waitress which called Maria: “How can I by the motion to reach Shaman of Stone?”
I decided that with itself I will have nothing. Neither water, nor bread nor money. I passed a road to that side in which I needed and began to catch poputku. I stood long. Who heard majority where I am necessary did not even ask how many I gtova zaplatyt’- renounced. I decided to pass a little ahead on a road on foot. Turned around and the look my fell down on inscription on a sandwich-board: “If you have the dream!” I went farther.
I moved by turns both on foot or on poputkakh- them there was 5, but the last became for me happy. Him called Еvgenyy. He did not set superfluous questions. But then, when he our ways went ( about 30 km to my purpose) away unexpectedly offered to me to lead to me there and to get back together in a city. I offered to him to take part and to start swim with me. How I there was a soviet to that he consented with gladness. Why? About it farther…
When we rode I saw on the shelf of panel of machine the prayer book of Temple of Хrysta Rescuer and small box from him. Getting permission and looking over him, I found in the small box of empty lystochyk scrap of paper. Making sure, that a proprietor not does need him I wrote the cherished desire on him. And when we arrived, asked to bring Eugen along with itself prayer book and put a message in him.
When we went down to water, to us already a good-natured boatman went to meet, as though waited us, as dear guests.
To we Shaman of stone swam so far very quickly, but when I began razdevat’sya- he was frightened, saying that water is very cold. 6 degrees. He calmed down, getting from me a positive answer for a question about zakalyvanyy. Certainly I female not walrus, but a
grand-dad was necessary to be quieted.
I climbed on Shaman stone of golen’kaya in shorts and with the hairs strung by a yellow scarf. Asked Eugen to pass to me a message and to open a prayer book. After a prochnenyya message he blessed me in place of mother (while I at different people tried to find out about Shaman of kamne- whatever only passions told me) and I dived with a head in water of Boykala! Мater’ is Divine!!!
Forgive! I at not home and time of my output was up in the internet. Other, when possibility will appear ;)
P.S: Sorry after my nasty English ;) I not enchantress- is I only study ;)
Yesterday I met an internetfriend from America who just had arrived to spend one month in Europe. I had my birthday yesterday and she today so we exchanged presents. When realizing I wanted to give her something it was already late. I had bought “The Pilgrimage” to read myself (inspired by this blog), but ended up wrapping it and giving it to her (I’ll buy another copy to myself) not even knowing if it is as nice as the others, only that it felt the most suiting as she was travelling and I didn’t know if she already had read “the Alchemis” and/or “the Zahir”. It turned out she didn’t know you at all (it is possible! *grin*), but vagely remembered the booktitle. I described “the Alchemist” and she will probably buy it. She went through great changes in her life last autumn so I think “the Pilgrimage” will be a nice companion in the trains the coming days :-)
Such an irony to find these words in an airline magazine. Not a great way to market your country…but a great way to create a connection with the people. The truth which connects us all. It is almost like the example of there is a giraffe in the room and no one wants to acknowledge its presence, until someone plucks up the courage to voice this. This article displays such courage and what a bold way to express it too.
Life is filled with those moments where suddenly the giraffe in the room is realised and you waken a little more from your slumber to realise the destiny unfolding.
Love & Light
Thea
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