HANKA Todorow is a 65-year-old woman, but doesn't look her age, due to her energetic spirit.
After nearly 35 years in Bulgaria, she still proudly defines herself as a Pole. Hanka was born in Lodz, Poland's second biggest city. Officially, her name is Anna - after Saint Anna, but everybody calls her Hanka.
"I came to Bulgaria following my love," she says. Her husband, prominent Bulgarian cameraman Jacek Todorow, is actually half Polish. Hanka and Jacek met while he was studying cinematography at the famous National Film, TV and Theatre Academy in Lodz. They fell in love, got married, and even had a son while he was still a student. Initially they decided to live in Poland, where Jacek started working as a cameraman, but after a tragic incident in his family he returned to Bulgaria; Hanka followed him the next year, 1970.
Before coming to Bulgaria, she knew little about the country. But thanks to her husband's job they travelled a lot throughout Bulgaria.
"We were young and in love, we met wonderful people and I saw wonderful nature, our house was always full of guests; what was there not to be happy about?" Hanka says.
Upon her arrival to Bulgaria, she stayed at home to look after her son; when he started school, she started work. For 18 years Hanka worked mainly for the Cinema Centre and the Union of the Bulgarian Artists as a translator of films and interpreter for Polish delegations to Bulgaria.
"I learned the Bulgarian language in the street. Friends say I have a rich vocabulary, but a very bad accent. This is due to my home being a Polish one - only Polish is spoken here," she says. "Also, I have no ear for music, thus I cannot hear the pronunciation and cannot repeat it properly," she adds.
"My job was incredibly pleasant and interesting, among wonderful people. The best times were the film festivals, where all day long I translated movies, and then at night I interpreted at cocktails, news conferences, etc., and I'd never tire," Hanka remembers. Then she reached retirement age and stopped working as a interpreter. But for four more years she worked hard, "from morning till night," as a vice-president of the Varnenchik Association of the Polish expats in Bulgaria. Simultaneously she was looking after her granddaughter.
"I used to be a very busy, hard working, restless woman. People used to call me the Tractor woman. And we constantly had loads of guests in the house," Hanka says. "From that busy life I jumped right into a pensioner's life. At present, I just live."
Hanka's life is now very relaxed - almost to the point of boredom, she feels. She spends most of the day in her big home, decorated with paintings and small sculptures, made by her husband. She reads a lot, and is very thankful for the rich library in the Polish centre. "I can read in Bulgarian, but I am very slow and I get angry," she says. She also watches TV (and is very content that she finally gets a Polish satellite channel), goes for walks and meets with friends. And every Sunday morning she goes to a liturgy in a Catholic church. Like a true Pole, she is deeply religious.
"I haven't missed a liturgy ever since my arrival to Bulgaria, no fear from communists has ever stopped me, although I've heard about people having problems because of going to church," Hanka says. "Faith helps a lot, especially abroad. A Bulgarian proverb says that when you're at home, even the walls are on your side. And if you're not at home, that is, abroad, in hard times faith and prayer help," she adds.
She goes back home, to Poland, at least once a year - to visit her friends and especially her son Wojciech, who, like his father, studied cinematography at the Lodz Film Academy, and married a Polish woman; now he lives with his family in Poland and works as a cameraman.
"As years go by one doesn't know anymore where his/her home is," Hanka says. "And home is the most important thing in a person's life, except for health. Now I feel bad both in Bulgaria and in Poland - as I don't feel at home at either place. In Bulgaria I become a Polish chauvinist, in Poland I am an incredible Bulgarian patriot."
For Hanka, even if one has the best house, friends, lifestyle, nothing can replace the home country.
"Nostalgia is a very serious disease; there is nothing that cures it. And the older you get, the worse it becomes," she says. But she has never regretted coming to live in Bulgaria. "I have a good marriage, and I am content with what I have here," she explains.
But there are two things Hanka seriously disapproves of in Bulgarians. She calls these the Bulgarian syndrome. First, Bulgarians often say that something is a piece of cake. "When I hear it, I know the work won't be done at all. The person who has said this truly believes it will happen, but has no reasonable judgment whether he/she can actually do it," she says.
Next, Bulgarians do not care about being punctual. "When you invite somebody over for lunch, he comes at three in the afternoon and doesn't realise there's something wrong. Bulgarians just do not realise how much these two national flaws interfere with normal life," Hanka says.