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After three minutes, when everything returned to its normal rhythm, I remembered that they had told me about one of their heroes, Hristo Botev - a poet and revolutionary who, with the adventurism inherent in those under 30, and with the excitement of the age, led to religious death a group of such misfit seekers of sharp sensations, supposedly united by the vague idea of "freedom of the fatherland"... All emigrants to Romania, they hijacked an Austrian ship, forced the captain to land them on the Bulgarian coast and after several days of fighting were, of course, completely defeated by the regular and armed to the teeth Turkish army... On this day, June 2, Botev himself was killed (according to unconfirmed reports - by a "friendly" bullet). In short - this is the story. I had heard it, but, frankly, I was not particularly impressed - his adventurous work... Adventurism and a bit of irresponsibility. that's what I thought until I found myself on June 2 in the epicenter of this chilling silence and stillness...
Every year since then I wait for that day to see if it will happen again, if it will be the same. Will any of the younger ones ask themselves why and whether it should stop at all... I have been living in Bulgaria for many years, many things have changed before my eyes. But these three minutes are projected from year to year... June 2 found me in many of Bulgaria's big cities and in the small mountain village where I live. But the picture is the same everywhere. People stop to be silent, to reflect on the exploits of an adventurer who did not live to see the age of Christ, to worship him or perhaps to condemn him - but either way, in those 3 minutes the thoughts of 7 million Bulgarians are concentrated on one thing and that one thing, after all, is their country, Bulgaria. As for me, the foreigner... In those three minutes... I usually feel the shame
feeling of envy. Yes, I envy - the whole Bulgarian