The Fruits of Our Labours, Part 2

Red peppers, mushrooms and pieces of sausage

There is one bad memory that I have that is to do with China. This bad memory is to do with the Chinese Embassy here in Sofia. The first time I went to get our Z visas, more than five years ago, it was a disaster. I queued for ages, but they would not even let me into the building. Finally the guard sent me away and told me to come back on another day. Great! It took me about an hour and a half to get to the Chinese Embassy from our villa in Kalotina. Eventually I did manage to get inside, but I had to queue up at five o’clock in the morning. There were already seventeen people ahead of me in the queue and some of them had been there all night. Finally, I did get into the building, at about eleven o’clock, and the Chinese official who looked at all of my papers scrutinised every line of every document. When she had finished, she went through them all again. 

The petchka in action

I did, however, score one or two little points. First of all, she told me that I had brought “too many documents”. (Well, this was a little victory because usually an official will tell you that you have not brought enough documents or else you have brought the wrong ones.) Then the Chinese Embassy lady asked me why my wife had been issued with a new passport, even though her old one had not expired. “Because that is what the Chinese government told us to do,” I replied. Well, she could not really argue with that one!

Why am I writing all of this about the Chinese Embassy? Because I have to go there again, in order to get a Police Clearance Certificate. “And what is this certificate?” you ask. Well, in order for me to work at St. George’s School, I have to provide some sort of documentary proof, in the form of a police check, that I am not some murderer or criminal. The little problem, of course, is that this document must be issued by the Police in Shenzhen. Alicia, our wonderful HR lady at Green Oasis, has promised to help me, but there are quite a lot of hoops that I need to jump through.

Then you add the eggs.

First, I need a Power of Attorney document in Mandarin, Bulgarian and English. Then this needs to be notarised by a lawyer (in Bulgaria, a notarius). Then the documents must be stamped by the Bulgarian Foreign Ministry and after that they must be stamped again by the Chinese Embassy in Sofia. After that, the documents and my passport must by DHL-ed to Shenzhen, where Alicia will take them to the copshop and get the all-important Police Clearance Certificate and then send it all back to Bulgaria. What a palaver!

On a slightly more positive note, the red peppers that we bought, prepared and cooked with our friend Stefan have come in handy for mishmash, that most splendid, nourishing and Bulgarian of breakfasts.

Many years ago, I read John Wyndham's sci-fi classic, The Day of the Triffids. If you have not read this story, then I will now spoil it for you by telling you that it is about some hyper-intelligent plants from Outer Space that take over the Earth, but they do not win in the end. The question I really want to have answered is this: did John Wyndham ever see some leeks for sale in a Bulgarian market? 

For some strange reason, leeks in Bulgaria only come in three sizes: XL (Extra Large Size), BE (Blooming Enormous Size) and YHTBJ (the You Have to Be Joking Size). The most common size in most markets is, of course, YHTBJ and that might explain why most Bulgarians do not want to buy them, despite the absurd price: 1.5BGN (that is less than one euro or maybe 50 pence) for what was probably two kilos of megaleeks. Okay, they might not be about to take over the planet, but these jumboleeks will certainly take over your kitchen.  

This means that anyone who likes their Crème Vichyssoise had better like it a lot. If you are not so keen on your leek-and-potato soup, then do not try to make it in Bulgaria because those super-sized leeks will mean that you are going to have a super-sized soup. So what was (and will be) for lunch yesterday, today and tomorrow?   

Super soup