Georgi Shopov and the Bottle of Rakiya

There was a tradition in the Shopovi family that had been handed down through many generations, and the tradition was this: For as long as any could remember, upon marriage, the first bottle of rakiya that a Shopov made would not be drunk immediately, instead it was kept until the couple's eldest daughter was married and then drunk by the happy couple at their wedding feast. This practice had been handed down through so many generations that it had become unbreakable, and indeed, the week following his marriage to Bilyana Filipova, the newly married Georgi Shopov went to his parent's village of Svoboda and along with his father and distilled his first bottle of marital rakiya, which was promptly bottled and then placed on a prominent shelf in the couple's small apartment in Stara Zagora. The bottle then waited patiently in anticipation of the marriage of their (as yet unborn) eldest daughter.

And ten months later, Bilyana did indeed give birth to their first child, but it was a boy. Whilst Georgi would have perhaps preferred a little girl, the baby was healthy and handsome and the couple proudly named their new son Sasho after his paternal grandfather.

The baby proved to be strong and healthy and when he reached his third year Bilyana again became pregnant. Would Sasho be joined by a sister? When his mother gave birth again they discovered that he would not, again the child was male and this time the happy couple called their newest son Simeon after the great tsar of the old Bulgarian kingdom. To be fair, whilst Georgi did want a daughter to dote upon he was not altogether disappointed. In the olden times, before the great revolution of 1944 which had bought socialism to the good people of Bulgaria, boys had been far more highly prized than girls anyway, and despite the fact that the populace was now liberated and such ideals were outdated, many couples still preferred sons. But Georgi did so want a daughter to dote upon and he prayed and waited in anticipation when his good wife became pregnant for the third time a year later.

This time he was not disappointed; she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with large brown eyes and fine dark hair. They named her Tsvetilina after her grandmother.

The couple knew that they had been truly blessed by the Holy Mother, for they had all that anyone could ask for; three fine children who were strong and healthy and excelled at school, and the freedom of living in a socialist country, where there was work for all and the whole nation marched steadily towards a bright communist future. Georgi's father had fought in the Fatherland Front during the Great War and his dreams had been realised. The family had a nice apartment, a small Lada automobile and every year enjoyed fabulous holidays on the Black Sea coast near Nesebur. The children's grandparents marvelled at their son's standard of living, far superior to the miserable existence they had been forced to endure during their youth. But Georgi appreciated this and whenever he sat down with his good lady and considered the life he led, he was filled with happiness and fulfilment. Indeed, his only remaining wish and dream was to see his daughter happily married and to propose the toast on the happy day, and then drink the rakiya which still sat on the shelf in the main room of their apartment.

Tsvetilina, like her two brothers before her, was a clever child and hard working also. Her school results were good and she continued to achieve all through the tumultuous times of 1989 when the the world of the elder Shopov's fell apart due to the ousting of the socialists and the ensuing uncertainty of captialism. With the collapse of the lev, the value of Georgi and Bilyana's savings plummeted to virtually nothing, but when the time came for their daughter to attend university as her two brothers had done, they somehow managed to scrape enough capital together to send the eighteen year old Tsvetilina to the great university in Sofia, far away from their humble home. And thus, on a sunny September day, the now mature and handsome young lady boarded the train to the capital, waved off by all those who loved her.

And so Georgi and Bilyana learned to live alone again, without their children around, (for Sasho was now married and had a family of his own, and Simeon had got a job in computers in the city of Plovdiv). They eagerly awaited every holiday when their beloved daughter would return home and spend a few weeks with them. And every time she came back her father would ask the same questions teasingly, "so do you have a gadje my little one?"

"Maybe papa, maybe."

"Well look, the rakiya's still waiting, I'm getting impatient to drink it, for it will be the finest rakiya that I ever tasted!"

"Is that the only reason why you wish me to marry?" she would ask, alarmed.

"Of course, what is more important than good rakiya?!"

And at that he would laugh at his joke and then envelope his fair daughter in his arms.

One summer however, before her final year commenced, Tsvetilina came home and when asked by her father if she had a gadje, she replied, "Yes papa, I do!"

"Well bring him here to meet your father!" exclaimed her father, the sun shining in his eyes.

"I'm sorry papa," she said dolefully, "but I cannot."

"Why ever not?" asked her father, "are you ashamed of us perhaps?"

"No papa, it's nothing of that nature."

"What then?"

"I'm sorry Papa, I can say no more, please leave alone the subject."

And so he did, for he was not a man to push matters, but his daughter's reply hurt him nonetheless. "Why will she not bring him here?" he asked is wife, "Are we so old-fashioned that she is perhaps ashamed of us?"

"I'm sure that's not the case dear" Bilyana replied,

"You know she loves us so."

"Then what?" He thought a moment. "Perhaps he's a Pomak, or a Gypsy or Turk, and she feels that we may not accept him? But despite the fact that I was a Zhivkov man, and indeed I always will be, if he be a good man and she loves him truly, then I can accept him as my son! Do you know why dear; is he a Turk?"

But Biliana did not know, for her daughter had said as much to her as she had to Georgi. "I'm sure she has her reasons," she replied.

Next holiday, the couple met her at the station as usual. "Are you fine my little one?" Georgi asked as they drove home.

"Yes, papa, all is well. Tired from study but that is all."

"And what of your gadje. Be you still together?"

"Yes papa, we are still together."

"And will he be visiting your family then?"

"No father, it cannot be. Please speak no more of it."

"But why" he father cried out, "you are my little girl and I want to meet your man. Be sure that if he be a Pomak or Vlach, or Turk or Gypsy even, I shall love him if you do. Is that your problem, are you ashamed because I am a Zhivkov man?"

"No papa, that is not it. My gadje is neither Vlach, Pomak, Gypsy or Turk. My gadje comes from Kazanluk and is of a Slavic family, and a Zhivkov one at that."

"Then why do you keep him from us?" asked Georgi.

"Please Papa, say no more of it. Rest easy, I pray."

So he again kept his peace, but the matter could not rest in his mind. He asked his wife for advice, and his friends in the mekhana but none could help.

"Georgi my friend" said Vladi, his closest friend.

"She's a young lass and thou knowest what them wenches be like. There be no explaining for their actions. Remember how our Radka was at that age, a rum 'un to be sure, just like her mother before her. Let it be friend, and enjoy thy rakiya." And so the conversation turned to politics, football and other issues more commonly discussed in mekhani but Georgi was still not satisfied. Why should his daughter, the apple of his eye, keep her beloved from him?

At the end of the year Tsvetilina graduated. She had worked hard and gained fine results. Biliana, Georgi and Simeon all travelled to Sofia to see her don her cap and gown and recive her degree, and there was no prouder man in the whole of Bulgaria that day than Georgi Shopov. Later on, after the ceremony, Svetelina introduced her family to all her friends, Boryana from Vidin, Bilyana from Stara Zagora, Pepi and Delyana from Sofia, Velena from Kazanluk and Vlado from the Rodopi mountains. But no boyfriend was introduced. Georgi was disappointed yet said nothing.

That evening Georgi returned to Stara Zagora along with his youngest son. Bilyana stayed in Sofia to help Tsvetilina settle into her new apartment in the city where she would live with one of her university friends whilst they looked for work, since there was no work in Stara Zagora these days.

When they returned Simeon and Georgi walked out to the mekhana together. After a few drinks the conversation turned to the issue which had been weighing on Georgi's mind.

"Our Tsveti is a fine looking lass is she not?" he asked his son.

"Aye father, she certainly is, that's to be sure."

"Then perhaps I'll be seeing her married soon. I heard that she has a gadje from Kazanluk."

Simeon looked uneasy. "Aye, I heard that too."

"Didst thou? Well, perhaps you have met this fabled gadje?"

"Maybe I have father, maybe I have."

"Then, I ask thee a question son. Why is she so ashamed of me that I cannot meet him too?"

"Father, it is not you that she is ashamed of."

"If not me, then who? I cannot understand it, and it hurts me deeply."

"Father, perhaps I should not say this, but if she be ashamed of any, why it's herself, or at least, that she may lose respect in your estimation if she told you."

"Son, what does she think I am? I can accept change, why even if he's a Turk I am sure that I can accept the lad!"

"But father, that's the whole problem."

"What dost thou mean son, tell your father!"

"Father, the problem is that her gadje, whom she loves more than any is no lad, its a girl!"

"What? Are you mad, son?"

"Nay father, remember Velena from Kazanluk whom you met at the ceremony, why she is her gadje!"

Georgi was stunned. He had never even contemplated the thought that his daughter's beloved may not be male. That she had spent the previous year or more sleeping with one of the same sex. "Simeon, that be the truth?" he asked.

"Aye father."

"Then its disgusting! We tried our best to give that girl the best start in life, the provide for her when times were tough, to give her a sense of right and wrong, and she ends up sleeping with another woman. Its unnatural, a sin."

"That's what she thought you'd say," said Simeon, "That's why she said nothing to you for so long."

"My daughter, living in the worst kind of sin, consorting with a lass. It's not natural."

"Why not father?" Simeon enquired.

"Why not? Didst thou not read the Bible?" Despite being a firm Communist, Georgi had always believed firmly in the Word of God even though he had never read it. And upon those words he crossed himself three times as is the custom.

"What will you do father? asked Simeon.

"I'll make her stop, that's what I'll do, son!"

"And what if she will not?"

"Then she is no longer a daughter of mine!"

Tsvetilina of course did not stop. She met with her father, pleaded with him, broke down in front of him with tears in her eyes. Georgi broke down in tears too, but he could not give in; to accept such a sin was beyond question. Some things in the world evolve, but right was right and wrong was wrong. And thus his daughter left the family, her photographs were removed from the walls and only reminder that she ever existed was the bottle of rakiya upon the shelf, intended for her wedding day. Georgi knew that that day would never come, but even so he could not bring himself to drink the rakiya or throw it away. And so it sat there, gathering dust on their shelf.

And when his parents died, and Bilyana and Georgi retired they moved to the house in the village and took the rakiya with them. And thus they lived, he tending the vegetable garden and walking his grandchildren up in the hills. And Bilyana cooked the meals and thought sadly of the daughter they had lost. She prayed to God and the Holy Mother everyday that she would be ok, but Bilyana knew it was no good. Tsvetilina was a sinner and so even the Lord himself could not help her.

When they had moved to the country, Georgi Shopov the younger, Sasho's eldest son had taken his grandparents apartment in Stara Zagora so he could live nearer to his school. Every week his grandparents would drive their old Lada into town to see him. This particular week however, Bilyana was busy looking after Bilyana the younger, Simeon's baby daughter whom had come to stay at her grandparent's house. And so Georgi travelled alone, chugging along the road he knew so well in his trusty Russian automobile.

Up ahead in the distance he spied a car hurtling along the road rather too fast. As it came nearer he could see that it was a BMW, one of the expensive Western imports that had appeared in Bulgaria since 1989 and had become the playthings of the new rich; the gangsters, mafiosa and 'holdings' which now seemed to run the country. "Slow down idiot!" Georgi muttered under his breath, when he then realised the reason for the car's unnatural haste, it was being chased by a police car, a small Lada which hadn't a hope in hell of catching up with it. The BMW sped past at over a 100km an hour but the Police Lada skidded on some loose stones, and veered towards the other side of the road. There was a loud crash and Georgi Shopov remembered no more. The BMW sped on without stopping.

---

Around three weeks later Georgi awoke in a hospital bed. His whole body ached and he felt sick. Sat beside him was a woman in a white dress. He felt thirsty.

"Nurse,"he murmured painfully, "could you get me a drink of water?"

"By the Holy Mother!" exclaimed the lady, "you've come back to us!" By the time she had returned with the water Georgi had lost consciousness once more.

When he next came round his wife was sat by the bed with the nurse. Georgi smiled at her but found that he could not speak. Bilyana smiled back, "You're going to be ok," she whispered.

---

Gradually Georgi recovered, his wife beside him everyday. His wife explained to him what had happened. Apparently the police car had hit him head on, the two policemen being killed outright. He was lucky to be alive, and without brain damage, though it seemed that he would never walk again. "They did all they could, dear" she told him, " we got the best care we could."

"Then what will become of us?" he asked, "I can't tend the vegetables as a cripple, and without them how shall we eat?"

"We'll be ok, dear" Bilyana replied.

"But how, the children have not the money to look after and feed us, and we can't count on the party these days."

"You'll be ok," said the woman in white who walked towards the bed, we'll look after you."

"Excuse me comrade," said Georgi, "but who exactly be you, for I know you not?"

"This, dear" his wife said. "This is Velena."

After that day Georgi did not see Velena again, but from what his wife told him, it transpired that it was Velena and Tsvetilina who had paid for the hospital treatment, bought the family a new car and had provided for the couple. Apparently, unbeknown to his father, Simeon had kept in touch with his sister all the time, and as soon as she had heard that his father had been involved in an accident, she did everything in her power to help. She had always loved him dearly, and it had broken her heart that he had rejected her because of her lover.

"You see dear," Bilyana said, "she's not a bad lass. Still the same as that kind little girl that we looked after all those years ago. You should welcome her back, she's helped us more than any, Velena too, and she is not even kith and kin."

"But the Good Book, Bili, you know what it says. She's living in sin."

"Aye, Georgi, that's true, but it also says that thou should not judge. 'Let he who hast no sin cast the first stone' and all that. According to the Good Book we too lived in sin; I seem to remember that you had your wicked way with me years before we married."

"Aye lass, that's true, but even so."

"Georgi! Thou art a stubborn, old-fashioned mule! She is a good lass, the same good lass that she always was, and what's more, that Velena's a good one as well. What they do together be not our business!"

---

Georgi slowly recovered and three weeks later he was let out of hospital and allowed home. After a week in bed he got up and announced to his wife, "Bili, we shall hold a party, just a small one to give thanks for my marvellous family who have all helped me through this traumatic time!"

"Fine," replied Bilyana, "but one question, what of Tsveti?"

Georgi paused for a moment. "Aye," he said slowly, "invite our lass, and her... her lover... Velena as well."

---

And so it passed. That Sunday the whole family assembled at the small house in the village of Svoboda. Biliana cooked up the most marvellous spread with the help of her daughters-in-law and daughter and a good time was had by all. And at the end of the meal, Giorgi Shopov embraced his daughter, and then Velena Kovacheva of Kazanluk too, and together they all drank the bottle of rakiya that had stood one the shelf for over forty years.

Osawano-machi, Japan, February 2001

Copyright © 2001, Matthew E. Pointon