I am, apparently, a Muslim terrorist...

In a follow-up to yesterday's non-story, I will relate todays events, which left me rather amused.

The faster 10:20 a.m. bus came today (my weekly day off) so I was able to make it in time to get my package, which has been waiting for me in Yambol since the middle of January.

I gave my little slip to the woman in the post office, then headed to the dock in the back where the packages come out on a conveyor belt. I was slightly unnerved by the fact that there was no one else waiting (there is usually a depression-era breadline of old folks waiting for gifts from their kids who have escaped to Chicago). My package finally came on the belt, I went into the office to sign for it, and met Mr. Grumpy Bulgarian.

First, he asked me when the package had arrived (even though HE had the slip with the date in his hand...) I said several weeks ago.

"Why didn't you come earlier for it?" he snapped. He looked mad.

I explained that I don't live in town and it takes a few days for the notification slip to reach me, I work on two of the three mornings when the office is open (Monday and Friday...big shocker!), and that I had been in Stara Zagora for a week-long seminar and that made me miss my chance last week.

So he just grumbled. Then he did something no one else has done thus-far...He opened my package. (I was the only customer...he was probably bored.)

Inside there were 2 bottles of contact solution, a tin of Victoria Secret band aids, some foot scrub and a copy of Book Twelve of A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Mr. Gumpy Bulgarian grabbed the VS tin and opened it, dumping the band aids all over. "What are these?" he demanded. I don't know the word for band aid, so I just explained it's what you put on cuts. He left the tin on his desk.

Then he found the contact solution. "What's this?" he snapped again. I pointed to my contacts and told him it was cleaning solution. He looked at me very suspiciously, and put the bottles back in the box.

Then he found the book. This really irritated him. "What's this? Some kind of Koran?!" he ordered.

It was not something I was expecting to hear, so it took me a minute to process the question. Then I said, "No sir. It's just a book."

"What book? Is it some kind of Koran?!"
"No sir, it's a child's book."

He took it out of the box and flipped through it. (For those who have not seen the book, it is a small hardback with a bright orange spine and a cartoon on the front with three kids dressed like hotel consierges with sunglasses. But you know, I could see where he'd think it was the Koran.) After he had seen all the pages, he put it on the desk and dug out the little tube of foot scrub.

This was clearly too much. Between the tin (which was for sure going to be the casing of the bomb), the contact solution (obviously some kind of flammable, explosive liquid), the tube of foot scrub (some sort of cohesion material?) and a children's copy of the Koran, this Mr. Grumpy Bulgarian decided I was a threat to national security. However, since all of the objects were described as innocent, legal materials, he had no grounds on which to hold me, and let me sign for the package.

Once I had initialled his book and put all of my things back in the box, he rudely gestured for me to leave the room, and I did so gladly.

So in the end, I and all of my American treasures have made it home safely. I am going back to reading and enjoying my mid-week breather. Next week I hope to start my English Club, but we'll see if the Bulgarians dig the idea...It's still cold, after all. And Bulgaria's favorite pastime in the cold is sitting around heaters watching game shows.