Culture Share: Bulgaria - May 6th Saint George, Martyr and Dragon Slayer

This post is part of The Writer's International Culture Share, in which writers discuss their personal experience with world cultures: Harry Markov discusses Saint George's Day, May 6th, in Bulgaria.

May 6th is an important day for Bulgaria as we celebrate Saint George, who in Bulgaria is referred to as the Dragon Slayer or the Victorious (though literally from Bulgarian that one should be Victory Bringer). Saint George is the patron of farmers and shepherds. By default, all the people having names that remotely resemble George have a Name’s Day and celebrate: these include Georgy (Bulgarian version of said name ), Gergana, Gergina, Gloria, Gancho, Ginka, Ganka, Gabriella, Genady, Gosho, Genovena and many more.

Saint George’s Day is a big deal in Bulgaria for several reasons. For starters, Saint George is a saint of significance in the Christian pantheon. Because of his brilliant military career, Saint George’s Day also coincides with Day of Bravery and the Bulgarian Army. The tradition is alive and well - on the morning of May 6 all the news stations provide live feed from the army’s parade in the capitol as soldiers march to Alexandr Nevski’s Church. The ritual I noted this year was the blessing of the battle flags, though specific attention was paid to the Navy and their battle ships. I suppose that this specificity has to do with the legend that a healing water gushed after a church in the saint’s name was raised on the site where he killed the dragon.

It’s because of that particular feat why Saint George is one of the most recognizable saints in the Eastern-Orthodox mythology. In itself the legend doesn’t shock at all as it’s pretty straight to the point. In a true Greek fashion, we have a city located near a lake, which in turn was the home for this dragon. The dragon was a fierce poison breathing monster, whose breath could kill a person even from a solid distance. As a means to keep the beast away from the city, which had become the dragon’s go-to location for meals, the city ruler decided that each day a child would be left at the lake’s shore, inventing the first take-out delivery service for dragons anywhere (in Christian mythology).

Improper jokes aside, it was the city ruler’s young daughter to be eaten by the dragon, when Saint George appeared on a white horse and slew the dragon in the name of God as it emerged from the waters. This act – no one could previously kill the beast – was meant as a miracle so that God could convert the whole city into his followers. I suspect this particular myth served as the foundations for the knight on a white horse, who slays dragons and saves princesses.

Saint George is honored as a martyr. You remember the bit about his military career? Well, in fact, George served as a Roman soldier under the Emperor Diocletian. George proved himself to be a brave and honorable soldier, but that didn’t mean much when Diocletian decided to clean his army from Christians. Initially, George was picked to head the team that would be in charge of finding and killing Christians, when he himself revealed his love for God.

Diocletian tried to convert his best soldier to Roman beliefs, but when no offering convinced George to abandon Christ, tortures and decapitation followed. It was during these torture sessions that George performed countless miracles. He survived inhuman lashings, spending three days in a quicklime pit, poison and even swords grating his whole body. During his trial an angel appeared in order to heal George and in the end, at the command of the Emperor, he even resurrected a dead man.

Note: For the sake of being accurate, one must know that the “g” in all the names is not the “dʒ” sound like in the English George, but the normal “g” as in ‘guy’


Harry Markov lives in Varna, Bulgaria. This post originally appeared at his blog and is reprinted here with his permission.

Culture Share: Saint Haralampi, patron of Plague and Beekeepers

This post is part of The Writer's International Culture Share, in which writers discuss their personal experience with world cultures: Harry Markov discusses Saint Haralampi, patron of Plague and Beekeepers.

Saint Haralampi, patron of Plague and Beekeepers

---

Saint Haralampi [sometimes referred to as Haralambos or Haralampii]

Here I want to tackle my Names Day, St. Haralampi. First, let me explain the concept of the Names Days. I’m not aware if any other Eastern Orthodox Christian countries celebrate these, but the concept is simple. Bulgaria has a vast religious calendar that hosts all holidays, many of which are Names Days. I’m having hard time keeping this formal, because it looks as if I’m dumbing it down.

Yesterday was St. Haralampi, during which all the people who have this name or a variation of it celebrate. I’m Haralambi, so I celebrate, but so far haven’t heard of a female version of my name, because Haralambi is essentially a Greek name [because I’m ¼ Greek]. Mandatory for all Names Days is to wish the ‘name bearer’ [I invented this term, because I don’t want to type up ‘people who celebrate their Names Day’ all the time] health and prosperity. I don’t get many, because my Names Day is obscure. Not many are named after the saint, due to his Greek origin.

Now that I’ve covered the basics, I want to talk more about my saint. Saint Haralambi isn’t a well known historical figure. What is known about his life is that he died defending his faith, which automatically listed him as a martyr and thereafter as a saint. Legends say that he was a Miracle Worker and a great healer. Because of his healing, he was named a patron of diseases [icons portray him chaining all personifications of diseases and in particular, the plague itself] and beekeepers [because of honey’s healing properties].

As legends go, on February 10th Saint Haralampi captured the Plague [an ugly, old woman] and chained her. Celebrations during this day are meant to keep the plague outside the house. To protect themselves from this terrible disease, people fenced houses with hawthorn and briers [if my translation is correct], sewed garlic cloves to the headscarf for women and shirts for men. Some even dressed with special “pestilential shirts” sewn of nine widows.

The ritual bread.

Women are forbidden to work on this day, lest the plague enters their home. What they do is to bake a special bread [shown above]. Here the facts become rather meshed up. One source says that women coat the bread with blessed honey from the church and nuts. Then they cut it into four pieces that correspond with the four directions of the world. One is kept at home and the other three are given to neighbors and relatives as a token of health. But before any of this goes down, the house must be scrubbed clean.

There is another custom. Only the “pure” women [no idea whether by “pure” the text refers to virgins or healthy women] to bake bread and bring it outside the village at the crossroads to appease the plague. Alternatives to this suggest to leave food and water on the ceiling or to hang bread wrapped in cloth on an abandoned wall along with a wooden vessel of wine. To be on the safe side and drive away the plague, it’s called diminutive names: "sweet and honey", "good", "aunt". I’d go for a bit more mystical and call her “honeyed one.”

The most interesting custom so far has to do with the use of twins. The whole village has to be ritualistically plowed by two twin brothers. They have to do so using a plow made from a twin tree [or twin wood, I’m not sure about the translation here] and twin oxen.

If St. Haralampi’s Day is not celebrated, he will grow furious and will release the plague and other terrible diseases from their chains down on the ungrateful ones. Yes, my saint is not as benevolent as you thought. No wonder people commit to so many customs and rituals in his honor.

How honey is consecrated.

Also, on this day consecrated honey is believed to have especially strong healing properties as it can cure rashes, measles, wounds on the body. If you smear it on children’s foreheads, they remain healthy.

Harry Markov lives in Varna, Bulgaria on the shores of the Black Sea. This post originally appeared at his blog, linked above.

Culture Share: Personification of Spring in Bulgarian Culture by Harry Markov

This post is part of The Writer's International Culture Share, in which writers discuss their personal experience with world cultures: Harry Markov discusses how spring, and the month of march, are personified in Bulgarian culture.

Personification of Spring in Bulgarian Culture

It's March, the most bipolar month in Bulgaria [to be honest December surpassed it with days, I had to walk with short sleeves OUTSIDE]. It's the month that catches the death of winter and the birth of spring, so from a meteorological standpoint, March can be as cold as January, as rainy as February and as mildly tempered as April.

Baba Marta in her sunny mood

Of course, such erratic weather patterns panicked did a lot to panic Bulgarians back in the time, to the point that we personified March as Baba Marta [or Grandma March for the curious ones] and March is a time, when we honor Baba Marta in hopes for good weather. In olden times, shepherds would freeze up in the mountains with their flocks, because the sunny weather would easily turn to a snowstorm and the people along with the animals would be trapped there. Naturally, no one had the desire to lose their loved ones as well as their livestock to bad weather and this naturally led to the conception of Baba Marta and the month-long series of rituals that are performed in her name. Baba Marta is not only the embodiment of March, but also the very personification of spring, which for Bulgaria is a tough and unpredictable season. Often cold and with rain showers while it's sunny outside.

In this post, I will touch upon the mythological reasoning as to why Baba Marta suffers from her violent mood swings. The most popular belief is that Baba Marta has two brothers: January and February [they are named Golyam Sechko and Maluk Sechko, which I fail to translate], who have anger management issue, hence why it's cold during these months. Basically, both brothers always do something to displease their sister, either drink all the wine or leave their house in an utter mess. This angers Baba Marta, who as their sister is depicted as an old crone with a cane, and snow covers the land. Otherwise, when not provoked, Baba Marta is happy and loving, thus prompting the sun to shine.

Baba Marta during a fit

Sometimes, Baba Marta's said to be the brothers' bride [yes, there's polygamy at work here] and I actually know some inappropriate jokes about why she is always throwing fits. They involve cold feet and ill-endowed spouses.

It's interesting to note that while nowadays March and spring are female in Bulgarian folklore, once Baba Marta was actually a man, who had two wives. One was loving and beautiful, while the other is described as always scowling and cold. When March looked at the first, the sun shone and the weather cleared. When he looked at the other, winter would creep back in. However, it's a rather unpopular version.

The patriarchal structure of Bulgarian society reinforced the idea that March is a female and that her mood swings are unrelated to anything. Today, the tale of Baba Marta and her brothers or spouses, while known, is not central as to why Baba Marta angers as easily as she does. It's just accepted that she is as easy to laugh as she is to cry. Anything can anger her. If she sees old men on the streets, she might anger. Seeing children and young women might better her mood.

With this ends the mythological roots of Baba Marta and a very brief 'psychological' profile of her emotional instability.

Harry Markov lives in Varna, Bulgaria on the shores of the Black Sea. This post originally appeared at his blog, linked above.