Today, the crescendo of activity was unexpected. And it rolled out like a combo scavenger hunt/game of charades.

After our usual slow morning, it was decided that me, baba and baby would go out walking again. Dimitar (our steadfast translator) was off to have tripe soup with his brother and grandfather (a delicacy I personally can’t stomach) and Diado Stefan was off to work. So the mamas were to spend the day together.

Although I had overheard some talk over dinner last night and I know of the many action items to check off as we prep for the baptism, the plan was still vague (to me). Regardless, off we went. Baby was comfy in the all terrain stroller and was sporting an unintentionally American flag style ensemble.

We took a different path towards town, baba navigating like a pro while I followed, having mini panic attacks as I could not quite predict her expert bobbing and weaving through pedestrian crossings and over bridges with occasional pivots through taxi stands. Every bridge, overpass seemed to culminate with a set of stairs. Without hesitation, baba Dora maneuvered the 3 wheeled Britax through ups and downs. I followed like a clueless sidekick, wanting to help, to take the wheel, to regain control, but our train was not going to slow down. All I could do was remain agile and refrain from using my unsuccesful hand motions. 1st word, 3 syllables…wait, I don’t know that word in Bulgarian.

We made it to town and HELLO the parade began again. We met Turfina and a slew of other friends and admirers. Stefan did all the best cooing and laughing and smiling so we were like the olympic torch, the pied piper of Kardzhali. Everyone came to say hello.

Truth be told, I am terrible when it comes to socializing in this type of drive by scenario. Sure, I easily pass with my basic greetings and learned phrases related to the baby BUT I am still very limited as a social butterfly. Due to the language barrier, I struggle when the conversation is not about eating, drinking, or swearing.

Fortunately, I am the baby mama so it matters not. Additionally, I know how to say “I’m gonna eat your cheeks” (shte ti iziam buzite) and that line has got legs.

Our path took us through on of my favorite places in Kardzhali, the bazaar. Inside, a huge produce market, and surrounding the fruits and veggies are clothing shops, accesaories, etc.

This view of a nearby mosque tower reminds me of the fact that we are smack dab in the East meets West crease.

About an hour into things, I realized how thirsty I was and started to wonder if this afternoon was set to be more like a marathon than a sprint. If so, I did not pack properly. At all.

Acutely in need of water, I was thankful that we were surrounded by vendors with icy cold bottles at the ready. I let Dora know that I wanted water but I feel I should have cried uncle earlier. We passed by what seemed to be a million ice cold, beverage filled coolers. I was somewhat certain that baba had a plan and we would stop for lunch soon. But, really, that was just an assumption. We would likely have to do some more agility training before we landed at an oasis.

Seconds before passing out, we stopped for lunch. Hallelujah. Between gulps of water and bites of kibabche and baklava, I thanked all the gods.

After a feast and a spray of SPF 50, we were on the move again.

I think we were about 3 hours into things and I was not at all certain where the story was gonna go from here. As a nursing mom, I have some pretty unapologetic guidelines I have no choice but to follow. Time was no longer on my side. The day has been wonderful but my cups were about to runneth over.

We headed back over the bridge, close to home. Eye on the prize. But wait, more people, more shops. Please, gods, don’t let the baby wake. Don’t let the baby cry.

Because of her smarts and intuition, baba Dora gave me a 5 minute warning … we were about to make it, afterall.