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“Hey, wait a minute, let me tell you about how we went with Bai Ganyo to the Prague Exhibition,” said Tsvyatko with a grin.12 “Bravo, Tsvyatko,” we all exclaimed. “Just what we’ve been waiting for!” And Tsvyatko began. 2 If you recall, we set off from Sofia with a train made up entirely of our own train cars, even our own locomotive. There were only first- and second-class cars, no third class. They were brand-spanking new, just imported from Europe, impeccably clean and comfortable. Each of the cars had both firstand second-class compartments. There were lots of people, I’d guess around ; I don’t remember exactly. There were old people and young people; men, women, and children; even babies (oh, those babies!). Who could equal us? We were filled with such pride traveling to the exhibition in our very own Bulgarian train. Let the Europeans see that Bulgaria isn’t some sleepy backwater, we told ourselves. Most of all, we were bursting with pride at our new, modern, and immaculately clean train cars. But do you think that our patriotic delight in the supremacy of our train cars or the thought that we would amaze Europe with our progress was destined to last long? As we left the station following a convivial send-off, and then as we crossed the Slivnitsa and Dragoman positions, the battlefields of our glorious victories during the Serbo-Bulgarian war, our enthusiasm grew in direct  Bai Ganyo at the Prague Exhibition  12. The  Prague Exhibition celebrated the centennial of the first Prague exhibition . A group of Bulgarians, including Aleko, traveled there in a special train, which was intended to show Bulgaria’s material and cultural progress and also to affirm pan-Slavic common interests. This was especially important because at that time Bulgaria was an autonomous part of Turkey and the Czech lands were part of Austria. proportion to the emptying of the abundant wine bottles and food baskets that our practical travelers had packed.“Of course we’ve packed a few snacks. Why should we fork over our money to the Serbs?” cried out Bai Ganyo, warmed by both patriotism and domestic Pleven wine.But as we approached Tsaribrod, the last station before the Serbian–Bulgarian border, it began to grow dark outside, and as the passengers attempted to illuminate the cars, it became clear that the railroad management had forgotten to put the lamps in working order. As it grew quite dark, the children became frightened and began to bawl. Alas, then did our patriotic enthusiasm begin little by little to slip away, along with the last miles of Bulgarian territory. Some smiled sadly, others smirked with malicious amusement (we Bulgarians weren’t the only ones on board), still others grumbled, and even Bai Ganyo whispered in my ear,“A pig can’t tell the difference between mud and well water.”Some passengers even went so far as to spout unambiguous profanities in the direction of a certain foreigner, an employee in the management of our railways. Emboldened by this, Bai Ganyo shouted,“I just know that it’s not our fault. It’s those foreigners again, damn them! They’ve done this on purpose to make fools of us! That’s because they’re jealous! They’re all like that!” With these words, he glared so ominously at one of the foreigners traveling with us that the man got up and left for another compartment in a fit of coughing.When we stopped at the station in Tsaribrod, it was pitch dark in the rail cars. We couldn’t even see one another. At first, we were upset. Then we got angry. And finally, we got silly. Many jokes and sarcastic jibes were made at the expense of our railroad directors. People started shouting, “Hey there, you guys, give us some candles; the children are frightened.” “Hey, Mister, go buy us a bunch of candles and keep the change.” “How about giving each of us a wax candle, at least?” Bai Ganyo alone wouldn’t concede that Bulgarians could possibly be responsible for this mess. “See that one over there?” he said, pointing at one of our foreign fellow travelers after someone brought in a few candles.“He should be tarred and feathered and set on fire. This is intolerable. Never mind the darkness; who cares about that, but we’ve lost face in front of the Serbs. See that one over...

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