Can it be possible that one has no commentary on the current state of things in Bulgaria? Yes, it can be possible, because sometimes there are ideas, but no words. Or, there are words, but they are floating around inside one's head, being weighed as to which deserves to be put down on paper, to be published, and which deserve to be held back - social niceties, of course.

Social niceties is a concept easily forgotten, unless lacking. Now that we have forgotten, we can remember again. If someone knows of a Bulgarian etiquette book, please say: it would be interesting to read, to find out just what makes a well-mannered gentleman or lady in this country. Not a translation of some Emily Post or Miss Manners or what, but a real, po bulgarski guide to manners and social politesse.

This curiosity does not stem from some recent abhorrent situation, but is simply an ongoing note of piquant curiosity in daily life.

The opening and closing of certain doors is one: in the United States, no one thinks a thing if the bathroom door is left open; in France, such is unthinkable; in Bulgaria, it is like in the States. Now, if a person has lived in all three, the most sensible thing to do is to follow the mannerisms of the country of current residence. But... a bit of that French sense of (?) hygiene still remains. Or, what is the etiquette book-Bulgarian standard? (We all know what the day-to-day one is.)

Also for certain topics of conversation. Which, given my background, I will not breach here, though they would otherwise be considered totally appropriate here in mixed groups at the dinner table.

Styles of conversing is another thing. And for another time.

Yet in relation to that, there is this: it took forever to figure out what to say in response to "blagodarya" or "merci" (both meaning "thank you"): the appropriate response is "molya" (meaning "please", or, literally, "I pray you").

And what about who pays on dates, and who walks on the street-side of the pavement? Or opening doors for woman/elderly/people with physical handicaps/people with their arms loaded? At what age is one considered a lelya (ie, aunt) as opposed to a kaka (ie, sister), or a gospozha ("Mrs") and no longer a gospozhitsa ("Miss")? (It drives me up the wall receiving letters addressed to "Mrs Magdalena Rahn" - I didn't know that I was married...)

Of course, a book of etiquette cannot answer life's burning questions as such, but it does make for an interesting read.