The differences between us

Two posts here recently, one by lightcaptured and another by weisser-rabe made me come back to the topic of poverty, wealth, people growing up in either circumstance, the vast gulf between them, and the gulf even just between west and east Europe. Such a gulf that no one can explain rationally, because it is illogical, absurd, ridiculous, and inexplicable. A gulf that can only be seen, felt and experienced when one crosses the border of a poor country and goes outside. It can be felt mostly and especially by the inhabitants of the poor country, I don't know if it can be felt by the other side, because I have not been in that position yet. And here, in the poor country, we have this proverb that says: The full does not believe the hungry. And no: The hungry does not believe the full.
Although the second statement should be true in principle. These are two completely different worlds that can hardly touch each other. At any level.

I grew up in decent poverty. In my more mature years I convinced myself that this was the traditional situation of most people in the country - poverty. Of course, I compare myself to my friends and their families, and I think we were really all on a similar level. With this difference that someone's parents had the courage to take a risk and go abroad to earn some leva, ok, dollars, so that they could do something for their family, while my parents never dared to do it. They simply relied on the help of my grandfather throughout his life, as well as the help of other, more enterprising people.
And that was normal too.

Well, I can't blame my parents for not being equipped to support a family, and yet they created one. That was the way it was back then - people married young without thinking much about the future, had children because they had to, that's what everyone did, and then just went on with their lives... as they could. But... do you know what it's like to have to cut one single fig into 7 pieces? Because there were so many of us in my grandparents' house most of the time. Or what it's like to wear summer sandals in the rainy and cold fall because you can't buy fall shoes? Or to be glad that your fellow student gave you one of her t-shirts to diversify your extremely poor wardrobe... I have so many personal stories and situations that made me feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. And which I don't want to remember.
Surely all of us who lived this way have our 'mental problems', so to speak, which we carry with us to this day. My parents, as far back as I can remember years ago, kept buying products on sale, even ones they didn't normally use, as did many other people I know, by the way.

I, for my part, stock up on food. My partner knows that one of the things that keeps me calm is knowing there is food in the house. At least for a week ahead. Also that there are some things stored in the closet.
I'm also very protective of my belongings and I keep them and take care of them, especially my clothes, because I know what it was like when I didn't have the opportunity to buy them. I'm not as focused on material things as my mother, who once cried because I had her gold earrings and one of them had fallen on the bed while I was sleeping, and she panicked that I had lost it forever. But despite this, I find it difficult to part with everything I have acquired with money I have earned myself.

But as I said, there are things that one can only realize when one crosses the border to the outside. So, outside, I one day realized something that I hadn't seen for many years.
I studied in one of the most prestigious high schools in the country, not to say the most prestigious of its time. I lived the first three years in the adjoining boarding house of this most prestigious high school of its time.
You know, my classmates, like all other students, meet every year at the same time in this city, walking proudly through its streets, having graduated from this great institution, fondly remembering the great years that have passed. But I no longer go there because there is nothing to be proud of, nothing great.
Misery and poverty, this is my memory of that great time, as well as inhuman living conditions in the boarding house. Rats, mice, lice, hepatitis, worms crawling on your pillow at night accompanied the barracks regime and barrack conditions - non-working communal bathrooms, miserable communal toilets, no warm water, etc. Today, from the position of someone who has seen a lot, both good and bad, I can't even imagine how we lived there back then, let alone be able to explain it to someone who would be able to understand it. Oh yes, other Eastern bloc representatives will understand, yes.

It was on the Camino in 2020 when one day I met a Polish guy. And suddenly we realized how much we resemble each other, how much we understand each other, how many things we have in common. Because we were the only ones from the Eastern Bloc among our companions and we alone could not afford the "luxury" but in fact completely normal way of this trip that everyone else was having. Only we could not afford to eat three times at a restaurant every day, ordering whatever and as much as we wanted. And in fact, we were the only two passengers who did not sit down to eat octopus in the famous city of Melide, because we could not afford it.

The Polish guy had a solid education and a very good profession. He was certainly well paid by Polish standards. But he told me that it was a big challenge for him to manage the expenses of this trip.
While all the Western Europeans around, French, German, Italian, Spanish, young and old, highly educated or not, with stable occupations or not, students, never worked, all kinds of people, of all statuses, showed no sign of concern about their finances. This is the difference between these two parts of Europe that cannot be explained until experienced.
Do you think my parents didn't deserve a decent life since my father was a doctor and my mother was a teacher? Or do highly educated people, like the young Pole, not deserve to feel normal in the company of people from other countries, but they don't, just because their work is not paid adequately in the country where they were born and want to live?

And by the way, what would I do if I had money - that's a question I don't ask myself. I no longer ask myself such desperate questions. Not anymore.

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The pictures this time are from the Fishing village near Burgas, where poverty is presented in a somewhat acceptable, even attractive way, just as our poor life in the past was presented to be acceptable so that it may be borne.

Thank you for your time! Copyright:	@soulsdetour
	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.

Personally, I am a sensitive soul with a strong sense of justice.
Traveling and photography are my greatest passions.
Sounds trivial to you?
No, it's not trivial. Because I still love to travel to not so famous destinations.🗺️
Of course, the current situation does not allow me to do this, but I still find a way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge, new places, beauty and art.
Sometimes you can find the most amazing things even in the backyard of your house.😊🧐🧭|