The broad smile and warmth in the elder man’s eyes made me stop and buy a kilogram of red, juicy apples. The next day I bought another kilogram and by the end of the week I had a mound of apples under my desk and a new, talkative acquaintance.
The elderly man is Georgi Angelov, 77. Since the beginning of the academic year at the American University in Bulgaria, Georgi has been spending his mornings eloquently and skillfully promoting his home-grown apples and grapes to the students who walk the alley along the river on their way to classes.
“I have two gardens of apple trees outside Blagoevgrad. My life now revolves around them,” Georgi said smiling.
But he has not been a gardener all his life. In 1953 then 17-year old Georgi enrolled at the railway transport school in Sofia and served as head of Blagoevgrad’s railway station for 20 years. After that he took a swift turn in his life and taught metal processing at the local high school for 14 years.
However, Georgi does not talk much about his professional career. The part of his life he most enjoys reminiscing about is how he met Todor Jivkov, Bulgaria’s Communist party leader.
“My daughter, Valentina, was accepted at Sofia University to study medicine. We received a confirmation letter from the university, but when we went to Sofia, we were stunned to find out that her name was erased from the list of accepted students,” Georgi began the story of the memorable meeting.
Nobody at the university could give him a plausible explanation why his daughter’s admission was suddenly revoked, so Georgi decided to take the matter in his own hands. He quickly figured out that the only one who can get his daughter back at the university was Todor Jivkov.
“I went to the guards at his residence and told them I had an appointment with Jivkov. They let me in,” Georgi said.
To Jivkov’s secretary Georgi said he is a good friend of Blagoevgrad’s then governor and has a meeting scheduled with Jivkov.
“Once Jivkov heard the name of governor Aleksiev, he decided to meet me. They were very close friend. So there I was, in Jivkov’s office. I told him about the revocation of my daughter’s university admission and he assured me he will get her back in,” Georgi said.
Well, it turned out that back in Communist Bulgaria it was easier to meet Jivkov than to send your children to university. Jivkov did not fulfill his promise and Valentina married. Eventually, she studied medicine in Blagoevgrad and now works as a nurse in one of the private medical centers in town.
Another story, Georgi loves recalling is the story of a pair of shoes.
A couple of years ago, Georgi was selling his apples in front of the South-Western University in Blagoevgrad. One day a student approached him with a request to borrow 50 levs to buy a new pair of shoes.
“I am 77-year old. Many people in my long life lied to me and took advantage of my amicability. So, I was skeptical at first and asked him whether he had parents to take care of him. The boy said he was an orphan. Although I did not believe him completely, I took pity on him and gave him the money,” Georgi said.
Four days after that, the boy came to Georgi wearing a new pair of shoes and gave him a box of chocolates.
Although a broad smile graces Georgi’s wrinkled face most of the time, his eyes become teary when he mentions his son Slavi, a military officer, and his futile attempts to find a job for seven years now.
Hear more about Georgi’s dreams and hopes for his son and the hostility he sometimes has to deal with as an apple seller: