Everywhere we go in the village there seem to be goats. Just before dusk each day is what we call "goat time" - the streets fill with the clanging of bells and we run Gwendolyn out to the fence so she can watch this sight:
A (usually) older man, carrying a wooden stick, shouting to his herd as it scampers along the road in front of him. There was one goat man that we watched so often he invited us in one evening. Through much pantomime and our few words of Bulgarian we came to understand that he wanted to give us gifts: apples from his tree and milk from his goats. We came home with a grocery bag full of apples and a plastic coke bottle full of goats' milk!
Everywhere we go in the village there seem to be goats. Just before dusk each day is what we call "goat time" - the streets fill with the clanging of bells and we run Gwendolyn out to the fence so she can watch this sight:
A (usually) older man, carrying a wooden stick, shouting to his herd as it scampers along the road in front of him. There was one goat man that we watched so often he invited us in one evening. Through much pantomime and our few words of Bulgarian we came to understand that he wanted to give us gifts: apples from his tree and milk from his goats. We came home with a grocery bag full of apples and a plastic coke bottle full of goats' milk!
2 comments:
The coke bottle of goat's milk makes for a very strange visual/oral sensory experience, I imagine.
i'll admit we were honored by the gift but didn't know quite what to do with it :)
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