Trying to buy a train ticket to Veliko Tarnovo today, I butchered the town's name so badly that the woman behind the counter made me write it down. Epic fail. The fact that I could write it in Cyrillic made me feel a little less ridiculous than I guess I would have otherwise, but only a little. She was nice about it anyway, which was unexpected. The people here in Bulgaria are mostly nice, but the ones behind ticket counters are mostly mean.
Once on the train, I shared a compartment with this guy who really wanted to talk to me. I like to meet people when I travel. But, his English was no better than my Bulgarian. (Plus the train was loud and rattle-y and I think he had some kind of hearing impairment.) He made a noble effort and I was really trying, too, for a while. But, people who don't share a common language just don't have very much to talk about. After we had both listed all the foods we can say in the other's language, he tried telling me for the third time that his brother lives in New Jersey; that was all I could handle and I had to bury myself in my guide book. I did feel a little bad. But, he wanted to exchange Skype names, so maybe someday we can continue the incoherent conversation electronically.
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