blockxblock.org (bxb) is a collaborative journalism concept.
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A rudimentary pilot for a guerrilla community documentation project.
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I wanted a platform to document everyday stories with fewer formalities than traditional journalism but with less personal narration than a blog.
Inspired by Humans of New York, bxb would feature longer conversations, more attention to the built environment, and be expanded to the scope of a block.
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Gimpshop on an early 2000’s Xubuntu Fujitsu, Canva, Squarespace, Dropbox, HTML/CSS, Maphub, Canon point-and-shoot, voice recorder, notepad, Google Translate.
A functional pilot would feature anonymous submissions, collaborative editing, and a time-lapse map view.
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Spring 2017; this page contains the material from one location: a few blocks in Veliko Tarnovo, Bulgaria. The bxb philosophy resonated with Van Dang, with whom I co-wrote the Krakow entry.
In order to avoid the gonzo, spectacle-centric approach I felt many interloping writers developed, I started in a place mundane to me; my block in New Brunswick, NJ.
Other areas covered:
Qizmir Qasaba, Azerbaijan, “the last shtetl”
Krakow, Poland, including a Romani camp
Prague, Czechia (one student dorm)
From the “about” page:
If you like "How-It-Works," you probably subscribe to the idea that probing the seemingly mundane reveals the extra-ordinary. The same principle applies to neighborhoods. It’s easy to find thousands of images of a place's most popular attractions, but without visiting, nearly impossible to get an idea of how most people go about their lives. This is an attempt to fix that.
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Varusha North, Veliko Tarnovo
Kalina and Evangalia
are hitchhiking their way to participate in a 10-day-long Vipassana meditation session. You can't bring your own food to Vipassana; grub is provided by the program and eating time is limited to four in the morning to noon. You cannot speak, read, write, paint, or do much of anything besides meditate. It's a donation-based experience and sessions can be found worldwide. No, they are not a couple, they are just close friends, but they get that a lot.
Kalina's favorite city is Krakow. She loves it for its history and atmosphere. Last summer she went to Greece to learn how to kitesurf but wound up lounging on the beach most of the time. She has been a vegan for three and a half years and found it easy to quit eating meat because “women aren't brainwashed that eating meat denigrates one's masculinity.” Kalina is 22, an art history major, and does not use Facebook. She says nature is smarter than people and deserves more respect. She takes care to throw away all of her trash and gifts me with what’s left of her expertly crafted vegan lunch.
Evangalia is 22 and a recent graduate of the American University in Blagoevgrad, not associated with the one in Washington DC, but funded in a large part by the US government. She studied culturology. It is not anthropology, sociology, or political science, but a Soviet academia hodgepodge of the lot. She went vegetarian a little less than a year ago for ethical reasons, the environment, and as a personal challenge. She does not watch TV.
For a little over a month, she's worked in tech support for a company that hosts online interviews. When users have trouble sharing files, sending photos, or filling out surveys and forms, she helps them out. Last summer she hitchhiked with a friend around western Europe and slept in a barn. When she is too stressed she won't cook.
Kalina shares Ivo's mixed feelings about communism. Under Soviet rule, villages flourished and Bulgaria had a strong agrarian-centered economy. After the Soviets left small farms were bought out by large companies, factories closed, and mass migration to the capitol in Sofia led to entire villages being left vacant.
She does not like Sofia and does not understand how such a big place can be so devoid of culture. She speculates it's because most immigrants aren't accustomed to city life and individuals from rural backgrounds haven't had enough time to establish themselves in urban communities. She jokes that only nine people are actually from Sofia. She loves Plovdiv but her favorite place in Bulgaria is Veliko Tarnovo.
Before Kalina and Evangalia leave to continue on to Vipassana, the former takes out a blue book from her bag and asks for three numbers. 369. She flips through the book and reads the quote. “The most precious thing in the human soul is his character. Which has to bear through fire. And only after the fire can develop character. This character is the person's home - when you suffer you will find home.” The author, Peter Deunov, is a Bulgarian philosopher popular in Bulgaria for his mystical interpretation of Christianity.
Ivo
is eating a tub of Neapolitan ice cream for lunch. That’s it. He does, however, switch it up, usually cycling between chicken sandwiches, kebabs, and pizza. He speaks English with more conviction and vocabulary than most VT University students.
From 2011-2016 he built condos in London but moved back to Veliko Tarnovo in search of more opportunities. His employee pokes fun at him for splurging on premium, now drywall-specked work boots. An experienced dryliner by trade, also highly skilled in roofing and framing, Ivo operates his own contracting business.
As a small business owner, Ivo lauds England's tiered tax system wherein those making 30,000 euros or less aren't subject to taxes - Bulgaria has no such minimum. The minimum salary he pays is 250 euros/month and he says that a couple can cover all of their living expenses with 750. He also claims a spacious two-bedroom apartment can be had for 100 euros.
Both of Ivo’s parents were born and live in Veliko Tarnovo. His mother made clothing and his father is a retired police officer. He is where Ivo inherited his love of fishing from. Fishing in the rivers running through and around Tarnovo is limited to small catfish so Ivo often makes a 30-kilometer drive for carp.
He can listen to chalga if he's drinking but otherwise prefers disco, pop, metal, house music, or “whatever is on the radio.” He has mixed feelings about life in communist Bulgaria. He fondly recalls the security it provided him and his community and remembers having two long holidays a year.
While nobody could afford a BMW, they all had enough money saved to hop on the 10-year-long waiting list for their only option - an invincible 59-horsepower Soviet sedan capable of reaching 60 MPH in 20 seconds. Ladas seem to account for 1-in-10 vehicles in Tarnovo, and according to Ivo, never quit.
He dismisses a discussion about infringement on political freedoms - if everyone is living comfortably and eating enough, he doesn't see the point of worrying about much else.
Tatyana
is 39 but emits a hopeful youthfulness of someone half her age. She sports an electric guitar and AC(lightning)DC necklace. The skull and crossbones bracelet shines prominent on her left wrist. Her chestpiece is more than just an intricate floral design; it's a poisonous herb reflecting her potentially volatile personality. She knows that AC/DC was at their best with their original vocalist Bon Scott and remembers the year he died. She winces when asked her opinions on chalga music, a catchy brand of overtly sexual pop-folk unique to the Balkans and dear to young Bulgarian clubbers.
On her right arm, a flourishing "I got this" ~ Jax, Sons of Anarchy. She is not a fake fan. Her most cherished memory is a month-long motorcycle trip with her husband through Austria, Hungary, Serbia, and Slovenia. Next month when the snow clears, they will ride the length of Romania. Her husband pilots a Suzuki Bandit 600, she, a Kawasaki ER5. While not vehemently opposed to Harleys, the only alternative she might consider is a Sportster 883. A motorcycle chain tattoo circles up her right forearm and is topped by a kick-ass dragon because she will kick your ass.
She works in the bookshop at Veliko Tarnovo University's law school. She has to be there in 30 minutes and needs to leave now to take a shower.
Nikola
breaks from cleaning to offer coffee and cigarettes. He turns 30 in July. Born in Gorna Oryahovitsa, 20 minutes northeast of Veliko Tarnovo, he didn't stray far from home. Nikola has lived and worked at Hotel Bela Neda for 6 years. His most recent dream involved grappling a giraffe whom had entered the hotel's courtyard and climbing its neck to find a hidden terrace.
Nikola recalls at least three summers almost fully dedicated to beer fueled StarCraft LAN parties. He and his friends comprised the "GO Team" - they played on elite South Korean servers and were sponsored by Matrix, a local electronics company. Their team placed 5th in Bulgaria when most of them were just 16. He still plays the occasional match in his free time. His current hobbies include “actually doing and not just watching cooking tutorials” on YouTube, learning Russian, and finishing Hannibal.
He has a diverse taste in music that developed in stages. While open about enjoying chalga music, he claims he can only do so when drunk with friends. For awhile, he was really into rap. Specifically Wu-Tang Clan, Redman, Dr. Dre, and DMX. This was followed by a short house phase and a longer foray into reggae. His current digs are mostly blues, his favorite artists being Eric Clapton, Jimmy Rogers, and Echford Lee Cooper.
His favorite time spent away from home was with his cousin on Australia's Kangaroo Island. He has also traveled to Istanbul, Bucharest, and Czechia. Nikola studied marketing at the now-defunct Peter Drake College of Marketing. Nikola's dream job is to be the successful businessman his father wanted him to be, who passed early in Nikola's childhood.
Bela Neda never has trouble filling up, especially in the summers. It's so successful that Nikola nixed Google Marketing because the hotel's reputation nets him more than enough return customers. He gets mostly Bulgarian, Russian, and Ukrainian visitors. Currently in-house are two Bulgarian women, a Canadian couple, and an American family from New Jersey.
Bela Neda's property is a unique amalgamation. One of the current guest houses was originally owned by a native Bulgarian tasked with equally dividing his estate among two sons. Instead of sorting things out financially his solution was to renovate his home in half. One son still lives in his half while the other sold his to Bela Neda. Another building was originally owned by a Spanish realtor and rented out to a gypsy family before being acquired by the hotel.
Fascinated by the culture of the United States, Nikola's equally industrious brother immersed himself in American literature from a young age. Through an exchange program similar to those offered by Rotary International he lived with a host family in Chicago for a year. At 17 he moved to San Francisco to study IT at Golden Gate University. Despite a few brief returns to Bulgaria he plans to stay in California.
The Neighborhood
Bulgarians offering recommendations to tourists often initially rave about the cool capital, Plovdiv. However, their eyes can’t help but get a bit cloudy when considering Veliko Tarnovo; where independence from the Ottomans was announced, the first constitution of Bulgaria was signed, and endless, distinct panoramas trace the city’s undulating topography. Every elementary school kid goes on a field trip here.
The Yantra River weaves through the Tsarevets, Trapezitsa, and Sveta Gora hills. Tsarevets has an old fortress but there isn’t much left besides the outside walls. The church on top was outlawed under the Soviets and its charter renounced. In the 1980s artists painted exaggerated, abstract interpretations of Bulgarian folklore on the ceilings and walls; style and content ensure the beautiful building won’t be reconsecrated.
Trapezitsa has a much more ancient fortress in much worse shape. The larger antiques were taken from the hill and preserved but anybody can climb around the site and take their pick of the smaller pots and bowls. Sveta Gora is the lowest hill; crossing the Stambolov bridge at its base rewards one with the ability to stand under the Assen Monument and visit a small art gallery.
Arbanassi is a little village chock-full of million-dollar homes on a hill overlooking the other hills. Below the village on the same hill is a goat herder. He makes his own cheese similar to mozzarella and if you find him, you can buy some for a couple Bulgarian levs (1USD). Past the herdsman's shelter farther down the hill is an out-of-order Byzantine fountain. Not much farther down the trail is a working Ottoman alternative.
Veliko Tarnovo is a quiet university town. Founded as one of the first not-in-Sofia institutions in ‘63, VTU’s heyday was short-lived. Many Bulgarian students in recent years use their EU membership to study abroad. Although the social scene isn't glamorous, it's hard to understand how such a beautiful place with a rich history isn’t drawing twice the residents and visitors.
Varusha North is catered towards the latter. While half of the shops on “Artisan Street” only pander to fridge magnet connoisseurs, a fair amount of them are home to talented creators: leatherworkers, smiths, bakers, weavers, etc. It's the best place to scout classic Bulgarian Renaissance architecture.
A combination of real-old, neo-Renaissance construction, and haphazard contemporary contractor band-aids give a sense that the city is alive and in flux, not just some relic of a town constricted to stagnation by overzealous city administrators. However, many locals argue that such a lax approach to development is at least in part due to rampant top-to-bottom corruption.
The government has a hard time keeping the town looking just the right amount of old. Many Bulgarians think the city is not-so-livable, and with the hospitality market already saturated, there is little incentive for far-away property owners to keep the roof from falling in on buildings they don’t plan on coming back to or commercializing.
Every year the government buys up buildings from negligent, connected, or ex-residents (often some combination of the three) to save them from collapse. Despite “creative” management, the charm of Veliko Tarnovo will never fully disappear; maybe morph, but transformation is the city’s legacy.