Bansko, “Baba Maria”

Baba Maria once invited me to her rusty-red brick house in Bansko. She had sheep-skin rugs covering the balcony; flaming-red bricks covering the rooftop and warm flames dancing in the fireplace. She loved to chatter about history and her love of Nikola Vapzarov (esteemed revolutionary Bulgarian poet). Her eyes were hopeful and glowing; they kept me warm and welcome. When she talked, her face became the narrative itself.