My Balkan Introduction

My flight into Bulgaria from Germany in 2006 was an uneventful two and half hour journey filled with tension, anxiety and hope of starting a new "life experience". I had glanced over someone else's flash cards for the Bulgarian Alphabet called Cyrillic and I prepared for the landing in what would be my first European country. Using Bulgaria as a marker, I feel as though my "European Experience" is slightly different than the Wombat's Hostel summer break kids that come through on museum and drinking tours. Slighted as it might have been, the clouds broke and I was able to see the biggest city in Bulgaria of about 1.5 million. Nestled in a plateau surrounded by the Balkan mountains and the end of the Rila mountains, Sofia is a small place and placed at a high altitude. The capital was relocated to this more defensible outpost by the Ottomans or Turks (I've yet to understand fully the differences in phraseology other than one distances the Ottoman Empire from Turkey and the other directly links the Empire to the current state). Some claim it to be a beautiful city, and it can be in the throes of spring, but in general I find it bleak, unfriendly and without cultural magnetism.

As my flight came to its close, circling around the small outpost-turned capital of Bulgaria, we hit turbulence and the plane spasticly yoked to the left and then the right, dropping stomach churningly every few seconds. And then I hear over the intercom, forgotten by the stewardesses and the pilots, my first song in the Balkans (Play it, it helps the mood):



So, as the old punch line goes, "there I was" sitting in the aisle seat bobbing and weaving as we were attempting to land in a post-communist bloc country and Shakira is cracking over the intercom almost discernible through the roar of the engines. And I'm thinking to myself, "Well, I'm going to die while landing a place that's the end of the earth and I'll die listening to Shakira . . ." I contemplate the inert humor of the situation, assess my life ambitions and desires and then decide that if that's the way its going to be, then so be it. As we land roughly at the airport and taxi to our stop, Shakira continues softly over the intercom until we exit. This begins my introduction to Bulgaria and the Balkan beat--Shakira's Latino/Americano Pop that no longer has a regional or stylistic characterization.


Shakira actually gives a pretty good cultural snapshot of the music in the Balkans. The younger generations have fully embraced the MTV culture and have improved by eliminating all rock and roll and hard core rap to leave just dance music. Be it techno, hip hop or rap with a beat, Balkan youth have taken the music of west and hand picked for its ability to dance with. Of course this leads to humorous selections such as this one I've heard on more than one occasion in many discos and night clubs:



The Balkans is a cultural mixing ground that has had European, African and Asian influences for centuries. Any discussion about Balkan music and/or culture has to come with the understanding that it doesn't operate in a vacuum. They know about MTV and they know about the coolest and most bad-ass artist coming from the music industry and its factories in LA, NYC and London. They know. And they love it--if you can dance to it. They don't have any social qualms about playing Shakira, 50 cent and effortlessly switching to Balkan Brass Band music or Roma Music or Traditional Folk Music. While the youth of Bulgaria are becoming more westernized and those in the cities are shying away from what is traditionally considered Balkan music, it is still thriving in a market of Shakira and Madonna.