Ravings of a sick person

(This post is a continuation of my last four posts, in case you’re wondering where this story begins and why I always write "To be continued" at the end.)

I also know of other instances where people were relocated. I remember from when I was little that several women were moved to my grandparents' village as a form of public censure for their "loose behavior."
I have no idea where they were accommodated or what kind of work they did during their "exile" in that village, but I can imagine the men were very happy about their presence there. 😃 And I also don't think that moving them there yielded results or changed their behavior, nor their activities.

But I remember well another relocation - that of a 'legendary' figure, a man from outside the area who was appointed to herd the village goats, given a house of his own to live in, and so on.

We all knew where he came from, or where he had been sent from, and why he had been sent to this particular village, at least a hundred kilometers away from his hometown.
He was a guard at one of the country's concentration camps.
For those unfamiliar with the term: this was a camp where the Communists imprisoned people without trial or sentencing - simply because they opposed the regime, or were not Party members, or refused to be manipulated, or would not commit the vile acts they were ordered to carry out, or simply because they were intelligent people.
And being a guard in a prison like that was a horrifying thing - it wasn't just a matter of being a guard, they beat and tortured people, hauled the dead out in sacks, breaking their legs so they would fit into the small sacks, and then fed them to the pigs they were raising...

When I was a child I didn't know all these details, but all of us children were frozen with fear when we met this man on the street, together with the village goats.
I greeted him. I always greeted him politely, because that's how our parents and grandparents raised us back then. And I also felt a kind of pity for him, apart from the freezing fear.
I believe this man did not communicate with anyone for the rest of his life after being sent to that village, not even in exile. He had been saved, albeit by a regime that had already fallen. He could not be allowed to return to the place where he had "wreaked havoc" and slaughtered innocent people. He surely would have been killed by those who knew him - if not by stoning, then in some other, quieter, and more agonizing way.

I am sharing all these digressions to show you, at least to some extent, just how terribly people lived back then... Wait, I too, am part of that era, and that era, disguised and polished, persists to this day in other forms, there is no escape from it.

So, I knew about the relocations of people in the past, and specifically about the relocation the taxi driver was talking about. But I didn't know that, back then, one could simply "flee to the American Embassy" to save oneself. I know of other, far more difficult ways to cross the closed borders of that dictatorial state: swimming across the Danube (and when I say swimming, I mean 'swimming', not just a boat ride), ending up in refugee camps in Italy, escaping from those camps, stowing away on ships bound for America, and so on... Probably the same thing that immigrants from Asia and Africa do nowadays, but I can't be entirely sure about that.

So, this man was lucky enough to escape back then - he left for the USA, where he had a successful career by his own account, and then spent five years in Germany, which were also highly successful. That is, until his wife started wanting to return to Bulgaria.

He returned to Bulgaria very reluctantly, solely because his wife wanted him to. Later, of course, they separated. In my opinion, after such a disastrous, self-destructive move, it was impossible for them to stay together. And yet, he once again built a successful career in the capital, serving as the executive director of a major, high-end company specializing in premium-quality meats.
He met a new woman, also a successful lawyer holding a high-ranking government position. They have a young child.

Then one day, he says, he lost his job. And that’s when things started to go downhill. Job interviews, endless interviews, if he even managed to get one at all.

Because what he was reluctantly told was that he was "overqualified." In reality, though, he was simply too old, and no one wants to hire such experienced and elderly employees for anything.

That really struck a raw nerve for me, too. Тhe local employment office told me I’d never find a job because I was too "overqualified" for the region and then politely asked me to deregister from the service.

And this man lost his job for a shameful reason, too - simply so the position could be taken by someone else...

Later, when I was alone and had some time, I looked up the company online - the one where he had told me he worked as a manager. I didn't even really need to look it up, as I was already familiar with it.
I do regret not taking the man's business card, though. Тhat way, I would have had his name. Because no matter how hard I searched for information on the company's managers - past or present - I couldn't find a thing anywhere.

At first, whether told or heard this way, this story might sound like the ravings of a sick person.
The thing is, however, that it isn’t.

---

It will be probably continued next time.

Thank you for your time! Copyright:	@soulsdetour
	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.

Personally, I am a sensitive soul with a strong sense of justice.
Traveling and photography are my greatest passions.
Sounds trivial to you?
No, it's not trivial. Because I still love to travel to not so famous destinations.🗺️
Of course, the current situation does not allow me to do this, but I still find a way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge, new places, beauty and art.
Sometimes you can find the most amazing things even in the backyard of your house.😊🧐🧭|