Crushing people

"I'm a doctor," the taxi driver told me.
"Wait, what?" That was truly the last thing I expected him to say - in fact, I hadn't expected him to say it at all. And suddenly, the frustration I’d felt over everything that had happened that day vanished.
"Actually, I have a medical education, but I’ve never practiced," the driver clarified.

"So how did you end up here?" I asked bluntly.

There was no point in beating around the bush, there would be no romantic story here, no miracle, no wishes, no wishes coming true. I know the story about the Belgian doctor who drives a truck every six months to balance out the work-related stress in his life. But in the absurd country of Bulgaria, no one can usually do what they want. Here, there is simply no free will. Will is imposed, events are a form of coercion, and desires are something long forgotten.

"When I graduated with honors from the medical university in the capital back in the past (the communist past) I was granted the right to choose the village where I would practice my profession as a reward for my outstanding achievements. Can you imagine the award I was honored with! That was when I realized there was no future for me in this country, and I fled to the American Embassy."

I know about these allocations of people in the past. There was no need for him to explain any further.

My grandfather had been assigned to work as a doctor in a village at the other end of the country.
For your information, the country is split in two by a mountain range, with mountain passes cutting across it. So, he was sent from the northern part of the country to the southern part, separated by that mountain range. You can imagine, or perhaps you can’t, what the transport situation was like back then, especially crossing those mountains, given how difficult it is even today, as I’ve already told you, to get easily from point A to point B in this land of the absurd.

When I started my first job, it also happened to be at the other end of the country, and even then, so many decades later, getting there and back home was quite an adventure and took many hours.

That is why I can surmise that, in my grandfather’s time, it was almost impossible for him to return home to see his elderly parents or his brother, or to do anything else of the sort.
I know that he repeatedly petitioned high-ranking officials to be transferred closer to his home, but his requests were always denied.
He married quite late, at thirty-three, an advanced age for that time, because the woman he loved, my grandmother, was from his native village.
He did manage to return there eventually and become a renowned doctor throughout the region, yet he suffered from a heart condition, and I do not think he was happy. I believe the system simply broke his heart, leaving it ailing for the rest of his days, days he spent in quiet drunkenness, hard work, and silence.

My aunt was also sent to work as a doctor in some village, though I think at least it wasn't at the other end of the country.
She never married. I don't know if you can imagine what it’s like to be sent somewhere during the prime of your life, somewhere you don't know a soul, to a village where the chances of meeting someone, especially someone on your own level, are practically nil.

I know this firsthand, because when I started my first job on the other side of the country, I hardly knew anyone there, it’s a city notorious for not welcoming or integrating newcomers, my colleagues were jerks, and the only people I had any contact with were my roommates, who were at different stages of life and had their own social circles.
And so, there, in the country's second-largest city, I experienced a level of social isolation that probably wouldn't happen even in the smallest village. And this happened in "the prime of my life".

But the topic of the post is the forced relocation of people. I too was forced, so to speak, but that was because it was the only job I managed to find, not because someone decided I had to go specifically there and nowhere else.

One might say that under the planned economy of the communist era, there was a genuine effort to ensure the availability of personnel wherever needed, and clearly, there was a shortage of personnel in the villages.
But that is just one, albeit logical, assumption. I would ask why doctors from neighboring towns were not appointed, so that they could return home more frequently and easily, instead of sending people from one end of the country to the other, with no possibility of traveling or returning.
You can figure out the reason for yourselves.

The communist system was, in itself, ingenious.

Isolation. Social isolation. That was the primary objective during the communist era. And while it might have appeared that someone, somewhere, was looking after things, in reality, they were devising plans, calculations, and schemes to harm people, to punish them. Even those who were absolutely essential to the state and society, such as doctors. Everyone had to be crushed by the system, every single person had to be shown that their life was not in their own hands, that nothing depended on them, and that there was nothing they could do if someone else had decided otherwise.

In fact, how does it differ from today? If we look a bit more deeply into social processes and the state of affairs, won't we find some alarming trends? And I am not even talking just about my own dreadful country, but about the global situation. Well, it is somehow easier not to think about it, isn't it? I feel the same way.

So, to be continued... again, because of the length of the post 😄

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.😊🧐🧭|