The Child of Eastern Europe

I like to think of myself as the child of Eastern Europe. This thought would not have occurred to me if I hadn't come to the US. After all, my home country, Bulgaria, is the only place in Eastern Europe where I have been. Since my arrival in Western Massachusetts, however, I have never felt so close to the eastern European culture.
Now stored in my mind are the vivid images of techno music, ancient architecture, charming accents, cheap hostels and sophisticated fashion. Almost everyone who left that part of the world has the same images stored in her mind. Something more - these moments are not just silently existing in our subconscious worlds, but they grow and like to laugh provocatively in the face of every present encounter.

Leaving Eastern Europe's quirky appeal, I entered the serious world. And I developed the pleasant distraction, from time to time, to again escape into this expanding mind storage of mine. Have you noticed how your imagination starts playing tricks on you by creating new details to dear past experiences you like to go back to? That is exactly what happened to me - my fantasy still loves to add reminiscent smells, theme music and new conversations to scenes that have already taken place. It is quite amusing when towards the end of the flashback, I start asking myself if this really happened.