The Beauty of a Good Maitap

On Thursday, my colleague, Nedka, and I went to the nearby 'bigger town' of Kurjali. She had to run some errands and I wanted to get some whoopie cushions for India. We got a ride with her doctor husband, Vladi, who's currently working in Momchilgrad in the morning (filling in for the doctor here, who's on vacation) and in Kurjali in the evening (where his regular job is). He ends up working 10-hour days and more in order to 'lend a hand'. He is a committed, compassionate person who's ready to help anyone in need, including his wife and her colleague :)

Nedka finished her orders of business, then we went to eat at the hospital cafeteria (on her husband's account...he gets free lunch which he never uses as he's always busy helping patients...that's how committed he is!) We then moved on to our last order of business...the whoopie cushions. We got the whoopie cushions and, not only that...we loaded up on all kinds of fun things of a practical joke (maitap in Bulgarian) nature. We got disappearing ink, which you can spill on someone's perfectly white shirt, freak them out thoroughly as they assume they have to contend with a nasty stain, and then watch them calm down as it gradually disappears over the course of 5 minutes. We got magical soap, which paints your hands/face/body blue as you wash. And we got two lists of rules...one for 'The Boss' and one for 'The Employee'.

Here are the rules:

The Boss's Rules (for Kumber, "the boss")

1. The boss is right.
2. The boss is always right.
3. If anyone else is right, see point number 2.
4. The boss is never late, he's just "delayed".
5. The boss never leaves work, he "has important meetings".
6. The boss is open to having his employees come to him with their ideas, as long as they leave with his ideas.
4. The boss is the boss, even when wearing only a bikini/speedo.

The Employees' Rules

1. The employee doesn't give a shit.
2. The employee never gives a shit.
3. If the boss is right, apply point number 2.
4. The employee is never missing, he's always 'somewhere around here.' (for Ahmed, our joyful maintenance/everything man)
5. The employee is never late, she's always "arriving any minute now". (for me)
6. The employee doesn't read newspapers, she is 'acquiring knowledge'. (for Nedka, our accountant)
7. The employee isn't sleeping, he's"passed out".
8. The employee isn't eating, she's "consuming". (for Ani, our librarian who loves to eat,more than anything else, except for maybe singing)
9. The employee is the boss, only when *not* wearing a bikini or speedo.

Thursday night, we had a "kupon" (party) planned, partially for my going away to India, and partially because, well, we just felt like having a party at Planeta, the nice restaurant in Momchilgrad. Kumber (the boss), Ani (the librarian), Nedka (the accountant), her daughter Vivi, and Ahmed (Mr. maintenance and all) sat down at 6:15. I had to join them at 7:15, since I was teaching my English class until 7. I came fully prepared, whoopy cushion blown up and all. I greeted everyone and put it on my chair without anyone noticing. I sat down and TOOOOOOT. Everyone looked over at me... some inquisitively, some critically, some amusedly. Of course, Nedka knew and she started laughing. I pulled out the pillow and everyone burst out in laughter.

We then took turns sitting on the 'farting pillow'. It's amazing how different people create different sound formations. Some theorized that it must depend on your age, others said it has to be the shape of your butt. Someone offered that it might reflect your emotional state at the moment. We laughed for about half an hour as we took turns farting...the curt fart, the curt, juicy fart, the long melodical, symphonic part, the chunky fart, the juicy fart. Anyway, you get the picture ;-P. People from the surrounding tables looked at us...some with curiosity, some with amusement, some with a mixture of appallment and horror. We hadn't even drunk that much...we were just high on gastronomical sound formations.

At one point, Ani stood up to go to the bathroom. Nedka smelled an opportunity. "Why don't you use the soap we bought today? It's really aromatic and you'll enjoy it." Everyone took turns smelling the soap which indeed smelled kind of nice...kind of, but not *that* nice. In Bulgaria, you never want to offend someone so you rarely see someone refusing an invitation to try something. Everyone had something nice to say about how nice the soap smelled, even though it wasn't really *that* nice. Of course, Ani couldn't refuse. She took it. Nedka's daughter, Vivi, knew what was happening, and joined Ani to see what would happen.

Here's what happened: When Ani went to wash her hands, the soap turned her hands blue. She panicked and started scrubbing more...well, the more she scrubbed, the bluer her hands got. When she noticed that Vivi was laughing hysterically, Ani realized that she'd been had. She washed the blue stuff off with regular soap, but not before the whole sink turned blue with the blue water. Everything washed off easily, and it made for many laughs when Ani and Vivi came back to tell the tale. No one else had known about the 'magic soap. After the incident, Vivi took the 'magic soap' home to share it with her dad. We found out today that she had put it in the bathroom, but apparently it hadn't been used last night (as a result, we found out that the doctor doesn't like to use soap at night). It had, however been used this morning when Doctor Vladi went to take a shower. We won't ask where it's been used and what exactly happened because...well, that's personal :-)

After the soap, we busted out the magic ink. When our waiter came by to put down a plate of food, I 'accidentally' squirted his perfectly white shirt. I couldn't quite pull off the 'accidental' part, however, and ended up squirting him quite obviously intentionally. "Gosh, I'm sorry, " I said, after squirting him quite visibly in an intentional manner. "I'm not worried, it'll disappear in 3 minutes," he said. Obviously, we hadn't been the first customers to try the 'magic ink' number on him.

Following our wild stints and stunts, when the laughter had died down a bit, Kumber and Ahmed started to share wild, outrageous story from the past life of the Chitalishte. There was a time when the "collective" was made up of 14 people (as opposed to the 5 of us who are there now) and they had wild parties until the wee hours of the night, after concerts and events that took place during the day. There was a whole lot more activity at the chitalishte in those days. They talked about the characters who worked there, the practical jokes they had played on each other, and the amazing events they put on together. Of course, the building had heat in those days, but that's just a minor detail. With the help of some whoopie cushions and 'magical soap', we are infusing spirit, joy, and warm laughter into the cold of winter at the chitalishte.

Whatever you do or don't do, whatever you think or don't think in this life, don't forget to laugh...it colors everything and makes whatever you're doing or thinking a whole lot more interesting.