Here at Shumen.UK, we spend a lot of time explaining Bulgarian traditions to expats. We write guides on how to survive a homemade rakia session, the meaning of a martenitsa, and why nodding means "no".
But today, we are flipping the script.
To our wonderful Bulgarian friends, neighbours and partners: we know we are a deeply confusing nation. You watch us with a mixture of amusement and pity as we navigate the world, apologising to inanimate objects and drinking boiling hot leaf-water in the height of a Bulgarian summer.
To help you understand your British friends a little better, we have compiled the ultimate translation guide to the British psyche. Here is what is really going on in our heads.
The Holy Trinity: Tea, Weather and the Barbecue
To understand a Brit, you must understand our relationship with the elements, and our absolute reliance on the kettle.
The Medicinal Kettle. If there is a crisis, a minor inconvenience, or an alien invasion, a Brit will immediately put the kettle on. We firmly believe that boiling water and a tea bag will instantly de-escalate any situation.
The Tea Regret. If a Brit politely turns down a cup of tea for no apparent reason, know that they instantly realise they have made a terrible, terrible mistake. Conversely, if we find a cup of tea we forgot about and it has gone cold, we experience a level of sorrow usually reserved for Greek tragedies. We will then neck the lukewarm remains like a massive, depressing shot.
The Barbecue Delusion. The moment the sun comes out, we will put on shorts, sunglasses, and light a barbecue. Crucially, we will insist the barbecue goes on despite the rain. A true Brit will stand under an umbrella, flipping a half-raw, half-burnt sausage with grim determination.
Extreme Politeness (and Passive Aggression)
Bulgarians are famously straightforward. Brits are the exact opposite. We are crippled by a fear of causing a fuss.
The Apology Reflex. We will say "Sorry" for absolutely everything, even when it is entirely your fault. If you step on our foot, we will apologise to you.
The Door Marathon. If you hold a succession of doors open for a Brit, watch panic set in as we run out of ways to say thank you. We will deploy "cheers", "ta", and "nice one", before eventually just making an awkward squeaking noise.
The Email Nuke. If you receive an email from a Brit and they have changed their sign-off from "Kind regards" to just "Regards", be warned. You have pushed them to the absolute limit. They are furious.
The Haircut Nod. We will watch with quiet sorrow as a barber gives us a completely different haircut to the one we asked for, and yet, when they hold the mirror up to show the back, we will nod approvingly and say, "Brilliant, mate, exactly what I wanted."
The Art of Avoiding Human Contact
Despite our politeness, our primary goal in public is to avoid interaction at all costs.
The Phone Shield. We will stare at our phone in silent horror until an unknown number stops ringing. The relief we feel when someone doesn't answer their phone within three rings, meaning we can hang up, is euphoric.
The Supermarket Stealth. If we say hello to a friend in the supermarket aisle, we will then spend the next twenty minutes creeping around the fresh produce section like a burglar to avoid making eye contact with them again.
The U-Turn. A Brit is physically incapable of turning and walking in the opposite direction without first taking out their phone, frowning at it, and making an "Ah, silly me" face to reassure the empty street that they are not a lunatic.
The Rules of Public Transport and Walking
There is an unspoken, fiercely guarded code of conduct when a Brit leaves the house.
The Zebra Crossing Jog. Whenever a car stops to let us use a pedestrian crossing, we deem it legally necessary to do a little awkward jog across the road, while throwing in an apologetic mini-wave to the driver.
The Cashpoint Tap. If a cash machine is slow, we will loudly tap our fingers against the plastic. This is not to make the machine work faster, but to assure the queue behind us that we have asked for our money and the delay is out of our hands.
The PIN Dodge. When someone nearby enters their PIN, we will look away so violently to prove we aren't looking that we risk accidentally dislocating our neck.
The Train Evacuation. We will start touching our bags and adjusting our coats fully 15 minutes before our train station arrives, just so the person sitting next to us is fully prepared for our exit.
Pubs, Taxis and Saying Goodbye
Finally, if you are socialising with a Brit in Shumen or beyond, keep an eye out for these crucial rituals.
The Dropped Glass. If someone drops a glass or smashes a plate in a pub, it is a legal requirement for every Brit in the room to shout "WEYHEY!"
The Airport Pint. We must have a beer at the airport. It does not matter if it is 5:45 AM. The laws of time do not apply in duty-free.
The Taxi Chat. We will get into a taxi determined to sit in silence. We will try our absolute hardest. But within three minutes, we will succumb to the urge and ask the driver: "You been busy, mate?" Even when they drop us off directly outside our front door, we will say, "Anywhere here is fine."
The Departure Slap. A Brit cannot simply stand up and leave a house. We must first slap our hands on both of our knees, take a deep breath, and announce, "Right." Only then can the twenty-minute process of saying goodbye begin.
One Last Thing
So, the next time your British neighbour says, "You'll have to excuse the mess" (translation: they have spent seven hours tidying in preparation for your visit), or tries to force you to take the last roast potato, just smile. We mean well.
Now, who's putting the kettle on?