Bulgarian folk costume. It takes me back to the time when I was a young girl. In my village, folk dances have always been an important part of a young persons’ upbringing. As a child I used to dance folklore dances in the community center. Those who danced were mainly Roma and this makes it even better because Bulgarian folklore dance and history for us Roma are not foreign, but close to our hearts. 

Nappy. I am a midwife and I know what happens to the Roma children and mothers after birth. They are separated into rooms with only Roma women, without mixing with the Bulgarian women. This fact saddens me, because children are the most precious fortune of a society, however, since birth they are separated from one another.

Bracelet with the Roma flag. I wear it every day because I associate it with my cause and my community. I wear it as a reminder of the efforts it costs us to fight for normal coexistence in our own country.

School uniform. High school was a tough period for me, as I was subjected to discrimination and even received death threats. It is not so much that I experienced these moments that makes me sad, but rather that the high school was the most prestigious in the area and admission is hard – and even when a Roma child gets the opportunity to study there, they quickly encounter the visible and invisible discrimination that makes them feel ostracized, unaccepted and rejected. I know there are other kids out there who hide their origins to protect themselves. 

Bible. For me this is not just an object but a type of communion with my God with whom I always find comfort, motivation, and love. 

Bracelet. When they ask me where my bracelet is from and I say it is from the Nadezhda district in Sliven, they always inquire if I am from there. Yes, I am from this district. Following that people typically continue with ‘you are not like the others’, which is extremely offensive to me because in their view to be Roma you have to be illiterate, poor, and uneducated. All prejudices at the root of discrimination. I take offense because this is not what my community is about and I’m not an exception. 

Earrings. The earrings are a gift from my late grandfather. I don't know if it's true, but whenever I put them on everything I've thought about or wished for happens. I have many unforgettable moments with them, but the most important thing is that when I wear them, it's like my grandpa is with me, and I feel strong.

Hammer. I associate this item with construction crews. This is extremely hard work and often the workers are Roma. I want my son to grow up successful and support himself by working in an office, with a pen. This is why it is important to invest in the education of our children.

A rack of colored gels. The palette of color gels I work with. My passion lies there, I put a lot of work and love into it. It's just that my heart is in it.

Picture frame. A family photo frame that I received as an engagement gift from friends. My husband and I split up, and this frame still remains empty. Every time I pass by it, I think about moments from my marriage and I get sad. Marriage in our community is a very important thing and family separation is a huge shame and pain.

Roma flag. I am proud to be Roma and our flag gives me motivation – one always sits at home while the other is in my office in the town hall of the Gorno Aleksandrovo village. On April 8, the International Roma Day, our flag always flies proudly, because despite the difficulties, our community has overcome everything – persecutions, murders, segregation – and continues to be here!

Certificate of election of mayor. People demand normal living conditions in the community – roads, cleanliness, electricity, water, security. For all of this they look at the mayor, and I rarely have the resources to guarantee these normal, essential needs. I feel extremely sad that it is the lack of these basic living conditions in a Bulgarian village that are the cause of its depopulation and desolation.

Handmade coffee cup. I truly enjoy creating hand-made coffee cups, like this one I made at home.

Injection. Paradoxically, I'm afraid of needles even though I'm a medical student. This was exactly my childhood dream – to be a nurse and to have my last name written on the door of an office. I used to lay down, close my eyes and secretly dream about it. After graduating from high school, I got married and my dream was left unfulfilled. However, when my mother fell ill in 2019, I told myself that I had to act. Now I work as a nurse and I am able to help people.

Microphone. The microphone is a present from a dear person and I use it every day. I want to become a singer and I am happy when I sing. Currently, I am recording songs and soon I will release my first album. 

Photo of a beloved person. A photo of a beloved person I lost. The deceased was a boyfriend of mine, with whom we had already broken up. He died in a crash. 

Booklet. I am happy that there are books that tell stories about the Roma. About our origin, our language, our history. As a librarian I was very happy when the village children came to read books at the community center. We have several books related to our Roma community sitting on the shelves of the library and anyone can pick them up to read. Keeping our history in books is extremely important.

Cloth backpack. I associate this object with difficult times. I remember my parents had to bring me with them to work in the forest, my mother carrying me on her back, wrapped in a cloth, like a backpack. It makes me sad because many children share a similar fate – instead of going to school to get an education and receive a chance in life, they have to be with their parents at work. Children should be able to experience their childhood.

Stuffed toy. The toy was a birthday present given to me two years ago. An extremely valuable item that makes me feel happy as I always associate it with the friend who gave it to me. I remember our childhood, our school years, everything!

Pair of shoes. A present from my cousin, with whom I grew up as a child. We were super close, however, he betrayed and hurt me when he tried to turn me into a prostitute. 

Cup. This cup is a present to me from a project I joined as a volunteer. The cup reminds me of the many good memories I have from the meetings with young people. There I found myself and I discovered many things I wanted to do, things that are connected with my life’s vocation – to motivate Roma children to go to school and understand how important education is for life.

Book. The book was a gift from a close friend who died from Covid-19. We were together at church and I always think of her when I see the book. 

Pacifier. This is my son's pacifier, my second child. For a long time I unsuccessfully tried to get pregnant. Fortunately, God blessed me with a daughter, but I always dreamed of having a son. Yakov is my second child and his name is engraved on his pacifier.

My old phone. All my memories, photos, videos of my children's births, birthdays, graduations were on the phone, but my daughter broke it while playing with it. There are so many precious moments that we can no longer see and touch.

Sword. I got this sword upon my graduation from the Christian academy. Most of those who graduated then were Roma. Faith in God is extremely important for our community. I am truly happy to have the sword as a reminder of my time there.

Children’s tiara. I have a young daughter and I am afraid that when she grows up someone is going to try to marry her too early. I associate this tiara with the early marriages that happen in our community and I am worried about my daughter. Even though early marriages are becoming rarer, they still exist. 

Birthday card. It could be a small thing, but it is precious to me. I got it for one of my birthdays from a colleague and a very dear friend. It is a valuable present because it reminds me of our friendship, of him, and of our memories together. 

Garment. I have some of my second child’s clothes at home. When I divorced his father he was five and he has lived with him ever since. I rarely see him and I am sad whenever I arrange the clothes in the wardrobe. 

School book. When I see school books, I always associate them with my past in highschool and my present at university. By studying I gained a lot of knowledge, but I also encountered many difficulties – people undervaluing me and thinking that I will not succeed because I am Roma. Despite that, I am proud and happy because I proved I can.

Old vest. The vest of my deceased grandfather. I remember when he was alive. He is the person that taught me old Romani words. I am extremely thankful I had the opportunity to learn from him, to receive his invaluable advice and kindness. Learning the Romani language is one of the most important things in my life. My great-grandfather showed me we must preserve our language. 

Toy. I was born and lived in the small town of Primorsk, Zaporozhye region. On the day the war started, I was on my way to school, but our school group received a message that Russian troops had crossed the border into Ukraine and launched a large-scale invasion. Military vehicles began to move around the city, along with people with weapons. It was very scary to go out to play in the yard. With time the heating, Internet, and mobile communications were switched off. After a month of war, my mother decided that we should leave the occupied territory. We left with a single suitcase, with just the essentials. I had so many favorite things that I wanted to take with me. Mom only allowed me to take one small toy – a teddy bear.

Handful of earth. Mom collected earth from our yard, as a good omen and a memory of home, because we don’t know when we are going to return. But I think it will bring us luck and give us strength, and I believe that we will return to Ukraine, because I felt calm and happy there.

Pieces of fabrics. These are pieces of original traditional fabrics from Afghanistan. What gives me joy is that I can make traditional Afghan clothes even far away from my homeland.

Kitchen knife. This is the kitchen knife I use every day to prepare my food. Whenever I see a knife, I think of the people who have been killed with a similar object. There are many such cases in my country. I also think of my own father, who 30 years ago was killed by the Taliban with a kitchen knife in his own home.

Drawing and art supplies. Drawing makes me happy. With it I express my deepest feelings and thoughts. I loved drawing since I was a child. After studying interior design at university, I had to choose additional lectures. I decided to pick something with drawing, but one course was not enough. That's why I enrolled in a second major – painting. The painting is a self-portrait, with Lalesh (a town in Iraq) visible from behind.

Yazidi temple model. It makes me sad because it makes me feel nostalgic. I cannot visit the holiest shrine for the Yazidis because of the incessant conflicts in my country, Iraq.

Coffee cup. I brought this cup from Ukraine. I specifically ordered it with my inscription from a wonderful little handmade place. However, the valuable thing is that my close friends around the world have similar cups, ordered by me with different inscriptions suitable for each of them. Every morning I get to drink coffee with them, exchanging pictures with the coffee cups. That's how I feel that my people are by my side.

Candlestick. This item is connected with a special location. For me it no longer exists. This was a cottage built from the first to the last nail by my grandfather. I spent my childhood there. After his death, my grandmother could not part with the cottage for some time, but it became impossible for her to go there. She sold it and divided the unsubstantial amount of money from the sale among all her children and grandchildren. I didn't take the money. I only took this candlestick that used to sit on the fireplace in the cottage. Every time I mention my grandfather, I light a candle in it.

Candle. The candle reminds me of the birth of my eighth granddaughter, Pamela, in Bulgaria – and it brings me extreme joy. In the new country where we continue our lives, our grandchildren are being born. The decoration is from the celebration for the baby’s discharge from the hospital. In total, 15 people from our big family are here – 8 of them are my grandchildren. The eldest granddaughter in the family is already in university, here in Bulgaria, studying interior design.

Cardigan. Leaving Syria during the war in 2013, I took a few things with me. Among them was this yarn. It is strange that I took it, yarn is not one of the items a person needs the most. This cardigan is the first thing I knitted here. I was so sad that I started knitting these yarn balls. To this day I have not worn it, but it reminds me of our difficult journey. I entwined my grief and sadness in it.

Guitar. The guitar makes me feel good because I love playing it and this is my happiness.

Scarf. A memory from Syria. This is a folklore Kurdish scarf and it reminds me of our country and my family.

Textile flower. The flower was bought here, in Bulgaria, literally in the first days we arrived in the country. We went to a museum and I bought it. A symbol of hope for a good life in Bulgaria. I have kept this flower ever since. Our hope was that entering a new country, we would not face negative attitudes, but the beauty of the Bulgarian culture.

Game. A family treasure – an Arabic game similar to chess. It reminds me of the years when I was young. We stayed at home and played. This game is a very strong, vivid memory of that time. It brings me sadness because now I am far from Syria.

Schoolbook. I love to study. I left school 20 years ago but I never gave up learning. Now I study in Bulgaria and I am in 12th grade. This is my greatest happiness.

Badge. This was my first job and now I have to leave it. I am about to depart to live with my family in Germany. I love this organization because it helps people and refugees. I am sad because this job will remain only a memory. 

Family photo. The photo that brings joy to my heart and makes my soul smile is the picture of my grandchildren who escaped the bombings together with their parents – my children. Thank God, they managed to reach Bulgaria alive and well, saved on the road to Europe from the horror of war. And they are happy about their arrival to a safe place.

Photo of Aleppo. It is a picture of events that are extremely painful for me – the total destruction that the war has left. In my country Syria and my city Aleppo.

Plush toy. When I hug it I forget my fears. This toy is from my best friend. We haven’t been in touch since I left Turkey. However, the toy makes me stronger when I look at it and remember my friend. 

Brooch. A memory from Turkey. My family and I lived in Turkey for 6 years before coming to Bulgaria.

Pen. The pen is from my grandfather. It gives me strength and desire to learn.

Watch. It reminds me how long I haven’t seen and hugged my friend who gave it to me in Syria.

Cooking apron. I work as a cook in an Afghani restaurant where I prepare my specialties. I love this apron very much because while I use it, I cook Afghani food for people here who are interested in the culture of my homeland.

Family photo. This photo makes me very sad because it shows all the members of our family except my youngest son who stayed in Afghanistan.

Necklace. It reminds me of the good times when I first traveled out of Iraq – visiting Iran for our wedding anniversary with my husband, where he picked out and gave me this necklace.

Napkin. Hours before we left Iraq to save ourselves, my mother gave me this napkin and said ‘I'm giving it to you as a keepsake’. It's always with me, I carry it everywhere. Because it is very valuable to me, when we travel somewhere, I leave it at home so that I don't lose it. My mother stayed in Iraq and we haven't seen each other since then, except on video calls. Mother is fine, they are trying to protect themselves together with my father. I worry about my family every day.

Spoon for tea and jam. I come from the city of Berdyansk, Zaporozhye region. Now occupied. It stands on the shore of the Sea of Azov. This is a spoon – a symbol of family. I am glad that we live together with my daughter and together we drink tea and eat jam with this spoon. A spoon from my mom, God rest her soul.

Sunglasses case. When I open my sunglasses case, I immediately remember the sea, my home on its shore, Ukraine... We are very grateful to the Bulgarian people for the help, for the shelter, we feel protected. But I love my country, our Sea of Azov, the beaches, the dry prairie wind with the smell of healing mud from the estuaries, the place of my strength and health. That's why I'm sad.

CD. I have been keeping it with me for the last 10-15 years because it reminds me of Syria. This is what I have left from there. When I listen to this CD of my favorite singer, the famous Jahida Wahba, it brings me joy.

Fan. The fan is from an elderly lady, a Bulgarian teacher, who helped me absolutely free of charge and contributed greatly to me learning Bulgarian. An extremely good, wonderful, and kind person. When I met her, she was about 70 years old. One time when she came to my home to help me study, she brought this fan. The sad thing is that she passed away nearly a year ago. She was a very dear person forever in my heart, a valuable and important friend.

Playing cards. I associate the cards only with joy. I have been playing cards with my grandmother since I was little. I associate them with the sea and rest. I played my first game of Belote at the age of 4, she taught me. She took me to the sea almost every year. Мy grandmother and I on the beach, or on the terrace of the restaurant at lunch – playing cards. These cards are a memory of a person who throughout her life, and to this day, unconditionally cares for me and supports me in everything. Thank you, grandma!

Boat. As a trans representative and a child of divorced parents, I remember I felt the happiest when I had the opportunity to make this boat with my father. We were doing something ‘manly’ – I WAS MAKING A BOAT WITH MY DAD! I remember how proud I was to bring it to school, it sat on the cupboard in my classroom for 4 years. ‘I made this boat with my dad!’ – I told every classmate, every teacher and anyone who entered the classroom. This boat embodies all the little moments where I fluttered with excitement to be recognized as I felt, to be ‘worthy’ to do ‘man's’ things, to be a ‘boy’. I write the word ‘boy’ in quotation marks with joy. The joy of growing up and realizing that the ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ norms are no longer boxes I try to fit in. Now I see this boat as time spent with my father, beyond gender. I was just a kid who built a boat with my dad, and that's enough.

Rainbow ring. I bought it when I was 18 – with the idea to use it as a sign through wich other queer people could recognize me as someone they can feel safe with.

Pepper spray. I got it after the attack on the Rainbow Hub in Sofia and several other events. It has not been used until now, but whenever there is a football match and I walk home, I hold it the same way a drowning man would clutch a straw.

Badge. Growing up, I often got in trouble because my appearance was always too butch, and it didn’t fit into the binary perception of how someone like me ‘should’ express their gender. To this day, whenever I go out, I'm constantly on the lookout for any situation where I might be a target because I look too queer. This badge is among the first gifts I received from a friend when I started volunteering at an LGBTI collective. In those early days, it was liberating to have a space and a group of people who accept you and make you feel safe. The fight for a better world is always easier when shared. I am lucky to be able to share dreams and barricades with the friends who have become my chosen family.

Backpack. I traveled with this backpack to Burgas Pride 2021, where I had to use it as a shield. I can't say we didn't anticipate what happened. A huge crowd of Nazis a few meters away. Stones and smoke bombs flying towards us. A burnt flag. In the end, we managed to get home safely. We also felt a sense of community, which to this day fills me with much, much hope. But my backpack keeps reminding me of the physical dimensions of the fascism we need to fight.

Prayer beads. One of the first souvenirs I bought while on vacation with the person by my side.

Helmet. I am angry that in the 21st century basic rights need to be constantly defended, and this has to happen as if we are at war. The helmet is from Sofia Pride 2009. Although a lot has changed since then, there is still a long way to go to reach a situation, affording me the rights that would allow me to live my life normally.

Framed image. I received a card with the same street sign at the gay film fest in Plovdiv in 2013 that I organized. There were hardly any people at the screening, but a journalist who supported us came. She hugged me, handed me the card and told me that the sun will rise on our street as well. And this photo here is from the apartment where I live together with the woman I want to spend my life with. I saw the photo in the ad for the apartment and it seemed like it was a sign. Our place. Our place where the sun will shine. And it did.

Smoke bomb and broken glass from a bottle. Eggs, cucumbers, bottles, stones, smoke... These were flying from the sky. They threw them at us. They screamed. The smoke bomb fell meters away from me. I saw a policeman get hit with an egg and he just wiped himself off and took a step to the side. Shortly after that they burned our flag... No arrests. A handful of us gathered in a Burgas square behind a LOVE IS LOVE banner. Around us a fierce mob, which, if it were not for the bars, would have torn us to pieces. It hurt me a lot – not from the threats, but from the helplessness, and complicity of the police. I took the smoke bomb and a few pieces from a glass bottle – not as a keepsake, but as a memory.

My photo for the Transmisia exhibition. It says ‘I am real’ – one of the first moments in my social transition where I was proud to be trans.

Skirt from my grandmother. Every time my mother sees me in it, she is infinitely happy and is able to live in an illusion that she has a daughter.

Exhibition tickets. The tickets from the Archetypes exhibition remind me of a wonderful and sweet trip with my girl. Somehow I associate them with all our journeys, dreams and the love within us.

Ceramic fox. The fox is a gift from a very close friend of mine who gave it to me when he was leaving to settle abroad. It makes me sad because it reminds me of how cruel and unfair parents can be towards their gay children.

Heart. My wife gave me a heart with the inscription ‘I love you’. This heart greets me every day in my car and reminds me how much love I receive from my wife, the support I get from her, and how happy she makes me.

Phone. My phone was under constant surveillance. My ex-partner was checking my chats, deleting people from my phone contacts. When I locked my phone, she broke it. When I hid my next phone she beat me – a 5-hour beating for keeping my privacy.

Visualization board. My partner and I made this board in early 2020 and it is still with us to remind us about our vision for our life together. I'm glad we dream and grieve together. It is a true joy when we manage to match each other’s thoughts and actions. It has been so for 7 years. I am grateful.

Bulgarian flag. I am saddened by the distorted patriotism. When you wave the national flag and shout in someone's face that they worship what’s foreign – because they have the courage to love, to be themselves and to not close themselves up because someone else believes that this love should not be seen.

Bandana. A bandana from the Women's Rights March and protests we organized with the Feminist mobilizations collective. It reminds me that there is nothing stronger than the community spirit.

Pillow case. A pillow case, part of a sleeping set, that I gave to an LGBTI person when we found a place to house him after he became homeless. It reminds me that there is still a long struggle for social justice ahead, and that even the basic needs of people from our community are not guaranteed. Unfortunately, even in such difficult situations like becoming homeless, many LGBTI people cannot rely on their families.

Card. From the person I love. The one who makes me a happier and better person, and with whom I would spend not just one, but nine lives.

Headphones. They remind me of one of my darkest periods when for years I had been the victim of emotional abuse at the hands of a person I considered closest to me.

Collection of certificates and flyers. This is a collection of materials from events I've attended. The physical dimension of me daring to do all these things I couldn't do before and meeting so many people who gave me the queer love I didn't have.

Empty notebook. I wanted to do so many things before I grew up but because of fear and shame every day I crushed the flame inside me.

Badge from Sofia Pride 2012. This year marks 10 years since I accepted my sexual orientation and went to a Pride event by myself, because then I had no friends who supported the cause. Now I organize Pride events, and all my friends support the cause.

Glass vase. I often joke that I ‘took my soul out’ of this vase. It is from the workplace where I promised myself that I would no longer work for anything other than in service of others.

Cloth from the wrapped Arc de Triomphe. It makes me believe that when a person has a strong concept behind their idea, nothing can stop them from accomplishing it. It makes me happy because it's a gift – I live in a very happy bubble, full of lovely, creative people.

Mini drum. I associate it with the ‘Tin Drum’. In some societies, freedom and the fight for basic human rights is like a constant beating of a drum. I'm torn between wanting to stay Here, when I know that Over There I won't have to carry my drum all the time to fight for what’s normal. Over There, my worldview isn’t considered ‘different’, or the decisions about my relationships – ‘non-standard’. I have the same responsibilities as everyone else and it is tiring to keep making noise for years to have the same rights.

Stock pot. This is my answer to the two questions. The most ordinary, rusty pot. Grandma's pot. The pot she thrust in my hands as she sent me off to the big city. Grandma is the person who taught me the important things – of good and bad, and of unconditional love. Grandma always cared about whether we were okay, and not why we hadn't called her. She did not pester us with questions why we were not getting married, or when we would. Even though she wanted to see us happy. Grandma didn't get to see many things in my life. I was unable to tell her that I am gay, to tell her and show her how and with whom I live. But I hope, through this silly little pot, Grandma will know that I'm fine, that I'm happy. And that I love her endlessly.

A t-shirt - a gift from a friend. This is her best piece of clothing, in this t-shirt she says she feels beautiful.

A handful of earth from where her house used to be.

A trophy from a football competition. He won it when he was living at a temporary accommodation center.

His soccer ball - it’s now ruptured and he cannot play with it.

A disco lamp with lights - her children fell asleep to its light when they were young.

A carpet - her children started crawling for the first time on this very carpet. This is her most valuable possession that she was able to save from her old house. Olga currently doesn’t use the carpet in the temporary building where she lives, and it is set aside, rolled-up. When Olga hands over the carpet, her child begins to cry: "Why are you taking our carpet?"

Her highschool diploma and a professional training certificate.

A big teddy bear that she always kept on her bed in her old house.

An icon, a present from her father-in-law, who gave it to her when she was pregnant.

An old pan with which they cooked outside in the open on a fire when they were evicted from their house.

An old metal box with “treasures” that he has collected over the years.

A small pocket knife. After their house was demolished, they only had this knife for cooking. They used it to cut salami and potatoes.

A wall clock that he bought with his mother's last pension to have as a memory.

A little stool - the only piece of furniture, besides some appliances, that he took from his old house.

Baby bear toy, beloved by her child.

Suitcase - the only item, along with all the belongings she was able to fit in it, that she saved from her house that was demolished.

An old bracelet with icons bought from a monastery, where her children were baptized. Ala has lost some of her children.

A large suitcase – the only one they had – to collect part of their belongings when they were evicted and their house was demolished.

Soldering iron. He is very skilled and people from the neighborhood come to him when they need to repair an electrical appliance.

Crutches. In an attempt to fix the antenna on his TV, Peter climbs atop his caravan from where he falls. He broke his hip bone.

A backpack full of pictures.

A cup with a picture of her mother and sister. Since her mother’s death, Danny no longer drinks from the cup but keeps it in her closet.

A children's t-shirt, which his kid loves, but no longer fits him. Almost all of his child's clothes have been handed down or donated. But this t-shirt, Vasi bought himself.

A picture of Dzholio - his best friend, who was admitted to prison for nine months on the day this picture was given to us. Vasi promised to look after Dzholio’s family. Vasi has been in prison many times, and earlier that day gave Dzholio advice on life inside.

Sports newspapers - He buys a sports newspaper every day, sometimes two, and reads them in his spare time, after work. He never dreamt of being an athlete, but sports distract him from the harsh reality of his everyday life.

Losing lottery ticket. Every week he buys one. If he wins, he will buy a house or land on which to build a lawful house.

A photograph from the old neighborhood, where his house is visible.

Work gloves. He works in a construction company and uses them to build houses for other people, but he cannot build a home for himself. He says he may even have to build a road in the same spot where they’ve placed their caravans, at Gradinite Street in Sofia.

A certificate of vocational education with professional qualification.

VHS tapes with recordings of his wedding and the baptism of his first children, shot in the old neighborhood.

Two pictures of her mother. One is from her funeral.

Two pictures of her mother. One is from her funeral.

Tools - he likes to work with tools, they give him a sense of independence. He says that these tools have been used to steal electricity.

A photograph of one of his children - a girl named Elena, who is now 14 years old. She was taken by the state and is now adopted.

A photograph from the former neighborhood, where Kotse and Rumi are kissing, when they started dating. She was 17 years old.

A photograph of her house before it was demolished.

A clock, a gift from his cousin Radi. This is his favorite belonging, he never takes it off. The watch has not worked for a long time, but it doesn’t matter to him.

His mother's photograph – when it gets difficult, he looks at her while she falls asleep.

An old ring from her grandmother. It’s not her size, but she keeps it as a good memory to be passed down to the next generations.

A brick, taken from their old house that was demolished.