FORUM

Being what it is at the moment, Bulgaria is one of the few European countries outside Russia where there are no BBC World Service FM broadcasts. The reasons are many and complex but they boil down to the Bulgarian Electronic Media Council, the watchdog supposed to supervise how Bulgarian radio and TV stations adhere to their licences, rejecting the Beeb's permission to broadcast on FM in the Sofia area. The arguments may have been different, but the fact is that Bulgaria followed Russia in banning the World Service from its airwaves.

"Don't take pictures or you will get thrashed." This is how you could be greeted if you dare to take out a camera in the Roma ghetto in Sofia's Krasna polyana district. The council flats, which house thousands of gypsies, became famous in 2007 when their inhabitants rioted in the streets of the neighbourhood, armed with clubs and knives. The official version was that there had been a clash with some skinheads in the local café. Informally, people talked about the unrest having been caused intentionally for political benefit.

In the past 20 years drug culture in Bulgaria has been on the rise. Originally just another transit point on the famed Balkan drug route favoured for its lax security and corrupt customs officials, it has now become a final destination, especially for one of the most potent illegal drugs, heroin.

Many Bulgarians are ready to kill anyone who criticises what they perceive as their "national" cuisine, but – sadly – the fact is that Bulgarian food is like President Parvanov: trying to conceal its very obvious deficiencies as well as the ineptitude of those who prepare it by drawing on some distant and often nebulous historical past. Like Parvanov, it is inedible in addition to being... inedible.

In their cross concrete eruptions, slabs tilting, rocking, soaking ankles with hidden waters, potholed, jagged, stepped and rooted.

I step I shuffle I trudge I trip I stagger I lurch I shift my gaze to my feet as they chart the three dimensional jigsaw.

I am blocked thwarted diverted by the hulks of deserted cars, black monsters that nose the walls and fences and stretch their arses to the very gutter.

They sleep in my path like bulky panthers fed on elephant, sleek in obese glossiness.

From Mean Girls to American Graffiti, popular culture abounds with films that show you how to survive in the blackboard jungle. But how do you stay safe in Bulgarian schools?

For the first time, research by the Open Society Institute, or OSI – a liberal think tank, and Sofia Municipality reveals what life is really like for school pupils. The responses by 3,033 children from 128 schools paint a disturbing picture.

It's no secret that Bulgaria has been criticised for its lack of adequate aid. For example, the BBC documentary on the Mogilino orphans and the frequent reports on the stray dogs problem have sent out damning messages to the rest of the world of a country still lagging behind in its approach to charitable causes. In response, the ever-growing expat community have taken matters into their own hands, with projects that show that it's not just tourism and property that are on the rise, but also awareness and fundraising. All this is done without government support.

If you're a golfer, you're sure to have heard of it. If you're not, Vagabond is here to tell you all about the golf event that made a difference.

In Bulgarian, a zelena valna, or green wave, used to mean a series of green traffic lights – something every Bulgarian driver dreams about in Sofia's traffic-clogged streets. More recently, however, a different kind of green wave has appeared – one that stops cars dead in their tracks. A couple of times a year, police estimate that between 2,000 and 3,000 people take to the streets in central Sofia to protest against construction on Bulgaria's Black Sea coast and mountains.

Next 1 March, when you tie a martenitsa, or a red-and-white braided yarn, on your wrist, you'll be wearing much more than the remnant of an ancient tradition. The martenitsa not only protects you from the evil eye and announces the coming of spring, it also symbolises Bulgaria itself – according to Vagabond's readers.

The martenitsa won the first ever Symbols of Bulgaria @ Vagabond campaign. A misty morning in the Rhodope came in second, and Bulgaria's ubiquitous mutri took third.