Our village is abuzz with election fever. This election is a major event in Rogachevo; it will be the first time that the residents here have been able to elect their own mayor - up until now, the mayor has been appointed by the municipal council in Balchik.

A slow start to campaigning
We first knew of an election when the incumbent mayor called round urging us to fill in forms for the electoral register. She kept on stressing our right to vote, that we had a voice in the village and that we were entitled to use it. This was the only doorstep campaigning I have seen throughout the election run-up. I asked my neighbour why no one had called to see me and explain his or her politics. "They don't do that here," he said with a chuckle. Amazed, I asked him why no one had posters in their windows advertising their allegiance to a particular person or party; the answer was the same.

In the UK, election fever grips us the moment a date is set. A flood of candidates call round to canvas you for your vote, there is a never-ending stream of political material through the letterbox and many people nail their colours to the mast by displaying posters of their preferred candidate in their windows. Most of all, you can gen up on what each party has to offer and discover where and when to vote.

Election fever finally rampages through the area
As time went by, lampposts were covered with promotional posters displaying rather austere looking candidates with a number plastered boldly under their names. Driving between Varna and Balchik, I noticed that the posters there were more frequent and that some clever fellows had whole billboards dedicated to them. "Time for a new mayor," candidate number 9 announces as he looks impatiently at his watch; "Time for development" candidate 31 beams from his technicolor platform. Am I supposed to believe these slogans? Where is the real information about each party's politics? I haven't a clue about the structure of local government; I just know that I have to vote for one municipal councillor, the mayor of a municipality and the mayor of a district.

I don't even know what each party stands for. Am I supposed to vote for candidate 16 because I think he's cute? Would candidate 18 make a poor mayor because he wears an ill-fitting toupee? Is candidate 25 old enough to be mayor? The posters leave me with many unanswered questions and I often find myself gazing at the sea of faces wondering whom these people are and what they believe in.

Time to learn
In the absence of information, I decide that I must do my own research. I have unresolved issues in our village and I want the best for my country, Bulgaria, so I have decided to make some unbiased research about what each party has to offer. A trawl of the internet revealed that there is a phenomenal amount of candidates; the Central Electoral Committee received manifestos from 88 parties and coalitions who are trying to gain seats as mayors and councillors in 262 municipalities. It turns out that this is not just a first for my tiny village, but for everyone else, as traditionally mayors were appointed by the elected mayors of the city. The more pressing dilemma it seems, though, is that with so many candidates, the ballot paper is two metres long and 11 million envelopes have had to be imported to accommodate it. It soon becomes clear that with so many parties running, it is not such a sensible option to research every single party, so I decide to continue my research at the corner shop.

Local opinion and influence
Rosi, our local shop owner explained to me that the most important thing for us was the election of a mayor in our village, who would do things for residents. Five candidates are standing: the incumbent mayor, an independent and candidates for GERB, Ataka and the SDS. "Do I know the candidates?" I add. It appears I do or at least should; the incumbent mayor, Galya, is representing the BSP, the communist-turned-socialist party. The GERB candidate Kiro is the guy who drives the Kia 4x4, the Ataka candidate is the lady from the grotty shop on the square, the fourth is the fat lady from the top half of the village and she represents the SDS and the fifth candidate is an independent that no one can remember. As I leave the shop, Rosi mouths the words GERB to me - that is who I should be voting for.

I return home to research their policies only to find that despite being called the Citizens for European Development of Bulgaria, which would imply some acknowledgement of Bulgaria's Europeanism, their website is only available in Bulgarian. Fortunately, Wikipedia puts me straight by informing me that they are the right of centre party, rather like the UK's Conservatives.

The Bulgarian Socialist Party astounds me. Their website is in English and has a facility for persons of reduced eyesight, but sadly this is not enough to inform me about their policies for local government and I am left to seek out the Wikipedia statement, which leads me to believe that they are more like the UK's Labour Party.

Ataka I had already heard about, having mistaken their European Parliament campaign posters for advertisements for a male strip show similar to Maximus or Chippendales. I knew that they were a right-wing nationalist party, which seemed ironic when I think about their local candidate, the woman with the grotty shop whose clientele is mainly the gypsy building workers. However, to be fair, I visited their website, which of course was all in Bulgarian, and then read a lengthy review on Wikipedia, which left me with no doubt that they were more like the National Front party back home.

The SDS doesn't offer an English translation on their website, but their candidate for mayor of Sofia is gorgeous. The party is pro-Europe and anti-communism, but what is their stance on corruption and the infrastructure?

The independent candidate seems to have no chance of winning in our village. She has no posters on display and seems to be the woman with no name, yet for all I know she may have the best policies; clearly she needs to appoint a campaign manager.

More subjective tactics
With a basic understanding of each party politics, I try to decide where my political loyalties lie. I canvas more local opinion to find that in our village GERB is the people's favourite followed by die-hard loyalists for the incumbent mayor. Unfortunately, I have to rule out a vote for the incumbent mayor as it is indeed "Time for a change". Our existing mayor is a lovely lady, but her term in office has fallen short of my expectations, her contributions to the village being a patchwork quilting of the road surface that still left many holes and a renovation of her office. I also find it hard to forget the reprimand she gave me when I helped myself to six discarded paving slabs, which, one year on, lie just where I left them - now that's not my idea of the caring, sharing face of socialism.

Ataka also had to be ruled off my list; on the basis that in this country, I am part of an ethnic minority and there was no way I could vote for a woman whose main trade was from the very people her party despised. Another nail in her coffin was the fact that the village idiot, a guy who drinks copious amounts in the village restaurant then insults people for a hobby, had now plastered his fence with Ataka posters and the last time I met him he had been offensive and racist. It's tempting to follow the crowd and vote for Kiro, the Kia driver, or step out of line and vote for the SDS, but realistically, how can I vote for people who haven't proclaimed their aims for the village? And if no one can remember the name of the independent, how is she going to wield power at council meetings?

If I were mayor…
That leaves me waiting with a few days to go, for someone, anyone to knock on the door and tell me that they are the answer to my dilemma; that they are the person who intends to resurface the roads, instigate a proper drainage system, ban littering, introduce recycling and put a play area in the main square…

Perhaps in the next election we will have a foreigner stand for mayor!