The Bulgarian villagers hunker over their books, struggling with their Mandarin words and characters. But they are not going to China — the Middle Kingdom is coming to them. Because of yogurt.
“It’s difficult. You have to be quite tough not to give up,” says pensioner Tsvetka Radkova, 66, as she puffs and pants in the classroom in the village of Momchilovtsi in southern Bulgaria. But her daughter Veselina, 37, accompanied in the lessons by her nine-year-old girl, trots out whole sentences in Chinese, to the cheers of her classmates.
Few Europeans, and not many Bulgarians for that matter, have heard of Momchilovtsi, perched high on the slopes of the Rhodope mountains in south-eastern Europe near the border with Greece.
Photo: Wilimedia Commons
But in China, Momchilovtsi conjures up images of mystery, wonder and longevity, having given its name to a kind of drinking yogurt that is all the rage for Chinese consumers.
This summer Momchilovtsi played host to hundreds of Chinese visitors attending the village’s third Chinese-Bulgarian yogurt festival.
Signs in Chinese are everywhere, directing visitors to the village hall for lectures on yogurt’s prodigious health benefits or to yogurt and cheese tastings.
Children run around chirping nihao (你好, “hello”) and giving out festival brochures and village maps in Bulgarian, Chinese and English.
MISS YOGURT
A beauty pageant on the festival’s second day picked the new “Yogurt Queen” to adorn the Momchilovtsi packaging.
“There’s two things every Chinese knows about Bulgaria — yogurt and roses,” said one visitor, Lei Lin from Shanghai.
The people of Momchilovtsi have been used to the sight of Chinese visitors ever since Chinese firm Bright Dairy in 2009 took back home the bacteria found in the local yogurt.
Crucially, the strain enabled the company to develop drinking yogurt for Chinese consumers. Drinkable with a straw, it’s much easier to consume than the thicker stuff and doesn’t need to be chilled either.
But Bright Diary didn’t forget its roots, branding its product “Momchilovtsi,” the label featuring a Bulgarian maiden in traditional dress, it began cultivating links with the village.
Known in Chinese by the shorter name mosilian (莫斯利安), it’s the top seller in this booming sector, on sale in most supermarkets and its adverts a common sight on bus stops and on television.
Its popularity has been helped by the contaminated milk powder scandal in China in 2008 pushing many towards brands seen as international or traditional and therefore safer.
With its slogan “The miraculous secret of the village where people live a long life — Momchilovtsi,” sales were US$910 million last year, a company spokesman said.
“Momchilovtsi has been famous as ‘the village of longevity’ because of the high number of centenarians living here,” Pan Jianjun (潘建軍), the spokesman, said on the sidelines of the festival.
Indeed, at least three participants in the language course — for which 40 locals have enrolled — said they had family members who had lived to be over 100.
“Our research showed that one of the secrets of this longevity is the local yogurt,” Pan said.
OFF THE TOURIST TRAIL
The 1,200 inhabitants of Momchilovtsi already host about 1,000 Chinese tourists annually out of a total of 5,000 to 6,000 visitors, mayor Siyka Surkova said.
“The numbers are growing every year and this is only normal considering the huge advertising campaign for the yogurt in China that also benefits us,” she added.
In 2014, the Chinese version of reality TV show “Survivor” was set in Momchilovtsi, with seven contestants thrown in with a local family armed only with a Chinese-Bulgarian dictionary.
But with just 18,500 Chinese visitors last year, Bulgaria is seriously lagging in the Europe-wide drive to attract Chinese tourists.
Direct flights between the two countries are only but a dream, experts said. Visitors to Momchilovtsi have to take an internal flight within Europe to Sofia or Plovdiv. And from there it’s a long and winding journey of several hours up to the village — but worth it.
Oct. 27 to Nov. 2 Over a breakfast of soymilk and fried dough costing less than NT$400, seven officials and engineers agreed on a NT$400 million plan — unaware that it would mark the beginning of Taiwan’s semiconductor empire. It was a cold February morning in 1974. Gathered at the unassuming shop were Economics minister Sun Yun-hsuan (孫運璿), director-general of Transportation and Communications Kao Yu-shu (高玉樹), Industrial Technology Research Institute (ITRI) president Wang Chao-chen (王兆振), Telecommunications Laboratories director Kang Pao-huang (康寶煌), Executive Yuan secretary-general Fei Hua (費驊), director-general of Telecommunications Fang Hsien-chi (方賢齊) and Radio Corporation of America (RCA) Laboratories director Pan
The consensus on the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair race is that Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) ran a populist, ideological back-to-basics campaign and soundly defeated former Taipei mayor Hau Lung-bin (郝龍斌), the candidate backed by the big institutional players. Cheng tapped into a wave of popular enthusiasm within the KMT, while the institutional players’ get-out-the-vote abilities fell flat, suggesting their power has weakened significantly. Yet, a closer look at the race paints a more complicated picture, raising questions about some analysts’ conclusions, including my own. TURNOUT Here is a surprising statistic: Turnout was 130,678, or 39.46 percent of the 331,145 eligible party
The classic warmth of a good old-fashioned izakaya beckons you in, all cozy nooks and dark wood finishes, as tables order a third round and waiters sling tapas-sized bites and assorted — sometimes unidentifiable — skewered meats. But there’s a romantic hush about this Ximending (西門町) hotspot, with cocktails savored, plating elegant and never rushed and daters and diners lit by candlelight and chandelier. Each chair is mismatched and the assorted tables appear to be the fanciest picks from a nearby flea market. A naked sewing mannequin stands in a dimly lit corner, adorned with antique mirrors and draped foliage
The election of Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) as chair of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) marked a triumphant return of pride in the “Chinese” in the party name. Cheng wants Taiwanese to be proud to call themselves Chinese again. The unambiguous winner was a return to the KMT ideology that formed in the early 2000s under then chairman Lien Chan (連戰) and president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) put into practice as far as he could, until ultimately thwarted by hundreds of thousands of protestors thronging the streets in what became known as the Sunflower movement in 2014. Cheng is an unambiguous Chinese ethnonationalist,