Welcome! Chances are, if you're here, you already know me, so let's dispense with the introductions aside from saying that my name is Nate, and I'll be your intermittent host for the next year or so.
This blog is the brainchild of a few different people who suggested that I keep a public chronicle of what promises to be an adventure-filled, eye-opening, scary, exotic, and life-changing year-long experience (I feel like I need to apologize now for this, and all future abuses of so many hyphenated clichés - I can't promise they won't verge on the egregious from time to time). Hearing these suggestions, I thought to myself, in one coherent, succinct thought, "What better way to keep the boys back home appraised of your situation, broaden the scope of your findings, and keep data organized?" So here we are.
What I'm hoping this blog will turn out to be is a place to talk out--to the point of understanding and appreciation--my experiences in a country so very different from our own, one so remote from Good Ole America that most citizens thereof couldn't locate it on a map, and, in some extreme cases, have never even heard of it. I will also probably post findings related to the research that brought me here. What this means is that, given ideal circumstances, this blog will be a mixture of observations on Bulgarian culture, musical and technical data, stories about my daily routine, and whatever else (there is a strong possibility that this miscellanea will include the Phillies, musical things not related to my project, and my girlfriend, Laura, who is living in Munich, Germany) should present itself as relevant, or irrelevant, to my experience.
I suppose this point in the post would be an opportune place for me to explain the research that is the raison d'être for the State Department inexplicably, in this time of extreme economic trouble, deciding to shower me with Government Funds. Essentially, I am focusing on a small region southwest of Sofia called Shopska. This region of Bulgaria is home to a unique brand of diaphonic chant that has, like every other kind of music, changed over time. Over the course of the last millennium and a half, Bulgaria has been invaded, occupied, or fallen under the hegemony of a host of other peoples: (In no particular order) Serbs, Slavs, Tatars, Avars, Mongols, Magyars, the Ottomans, the Byzantines. The list goes on still after that, but the point is that Bulgaria, owing to its position at one of the crossroads of The World, has played host to a wealth of foreign cultures. These cultures have undoubtedly left their mark on Bulgaria's own culture, which marks should, in theory, come out in their music. My research is to tease apart the conventions of this specific kind of chant from this specific corner of the globe and trace each one to its source.
Why would I want to do this? The answer, my friends, lies in the global implications this has. Good Ole America, not to mention a lot of other nations in this Big Wide World of ours, is a polyglot, polyamorous, polycultural nation. We are, and always have been, made up of so many different peoples that the Founding Fathers decided to anoint it as one of the defining characteristics of our nation at its inception - hence e pluribus unum. By exposing one small region of one small country's pluralistic nature, we reach a greater appreciation of diversity because of the realization that every single one of us is made up--genetically, culturally, or otherwise--of many different peoples.
If you're not the type that appreciates occasional pontification such as this, I promise I will give ample warning before going on a tangent of this magnitude in the future - no matter how well-intentioned it may be. Make no mistake, dear reader, this blog is as much for you as it is for me. Perhaps more so.
So again: Welcome. It will be a wild ride. As my favorite teacher used to, and always will say, "Take chances! Make mistakes! Get messy!"
This blog is the brainchild of a few different people who suggested that I keep a public chronicle of what promises to be an adventure-filled, eye-opening, scary, exotic, and life-changing year-long experience (I feel like I need to apologize now for this, and all future abuses of so many hyphenated clichés - I can't promise they won't verge on the egregious from time to time). Hearing these suggestions, I thought to myself, in one coherent, succinct thought, "What better way to keep the boys back home appraised of your situation, broaden the scope of your findings, and keep data organized?" So here we are.
What I'm hoping this blog will turn out to be is a place to talk out--to the point of understanding and appreciation--my experiences in a country so very different from our own, one so remote from Good Ole America that most citizens thereof couldn't locate it on a map, and, in some extreme cases, have never even heard of it. I will also probably post findings related to the research that brought me here. What this means is that, given ideal circumstances, this blog will be a mixture of observations on Bulgarian culture, musical and technical data, stories about my daily routine, and whatever else (there is a strong possibility that this miscellanea will include the Phillies, musical things not related to my project, and my girlfriend, Laura, who is living in Munich, Germany) should present itself as relevant, or irrelevant, to my experience.
I suppose this point in the post would be an opportune place for me to explain the research that is the raison d'être for the State Department inexplicably, in this time of extreme economic trouble, deciding to shower me with Government Funds. Essentially, I am focusing on a small region southwest of Sofia called Shopska. This region of Bulgaria is home to a unique brand of diaphonic chant that has, like every other kind of music, changed over time. Over the course of the last millennium and a half, Bulgaria has been invaded, occupied, or fallen under the hegemony of a host of other peoples: (In no particular order) Serbs, Slavs, Tatars, Avars, Mongols, Magyars, the Ottomans, the Byzantines. The list goes on still after that, but the point is that Bulgaria, owing to its position at one of the crossroads of The World, has played host to a wealth of foreign cultures. These cultures have undoubtedly left their mark on Bulgaria's own culture, which marks should, in theory, come out in their music. My research is to tease apart the conventions of this specific kind of chant from this specific corner of the globe and trace each one to its source.
Why would I want to do this? The answer, my friends, lies in the global implications this has. Good Ole America, not to mention a lot of other nations in this Big Wide World of ours, is a polyglot, polyamorous, polycultural nation. We are, and always have been, made up of so many different peoples that the Founding Fathers decided to anoint it as one of the defining characteristics of our nation at its inception - hence e pluribus unum. By exposing one small region of one small country's pluralistic nature, we reach a greater appreciation of diversity because of the realization that every single one of us is made up--genetically, culturally, or otherwise--of many different peoples.
If you're not the type that appreciates occasional pontification such as this, I promise I will give ample warning before going on a tangent of this magnitude in the future - no matter how well-intentioned it may be. Make no mistake, dear reader, this blog is as much for you as it is for me. Perhaps more so.
So again: Welcome. It will be a wild ride. As my favorite teacher used to, and always will say, "Take chances! Make mistakes! Get messy!"
NATEEE YOU SHOULD'VE MENTIONED YOU HAVE A BLOG HAHA sweeetttt (its iggy)
ReplyDeleteI totally emailed you about it haha. Miss you buddy, keep in touch.
ReplyDelete