Sofia, January 6 (Lyubomir Gigov of BTA) - Shortly before the stroke of 8 on Thursday, several hundred men wearing folk costumes waded waste deep into the ice-cold waters of the River Tundja in Kalofer (Central Bulgaria). Led by the town's Mayor Rumen Stoyanov with the national flag in hand, the men slowly reached an expressly dammed section of the river near the Cherkoven Bridge.

The men cut across the age spectrum, with toddlers riding their daddies piggyback. Having reached the deepest water, the men formed several concentric circles, interlocking arms on their shoulders. Accompanied by bagpipers and drummers amidst their number, the men performed a traditional horo dance, bursting into a signature folk song that is always used on the occasion: "Vassilka Has Fallen in Love".

The dancers prepare all night for the ice-cold water challenge, drinking copious quantities of wine and hard liquor.

The Eastern Orthodox world shares an Epiphany tradition which is a sort of initiation rite: a priest throws a cross into a water body and young men jump in, racing to retrieve it so as to secure good health and prosperity. Kalofer follows this tradition with a difference that, locals say, is unique to their town: the cross is thrown while the river dance is underway, and whoever fishes it out hands it to the youngest participant (in 2022 this was 4-years-old Dimo).

The event enjoys immense popularity, drawing spectators from all over the country. This year, all accommodation facilities within tens of miles from Kalofer have been booked solid for the occasion months earlier. This is good news for the hospitality industry, which has been badly hit by the pandemic restrictions.

Speaking of the pandemic, both dancers and viewers ignore or rather defy the health authorities' warnings of the credible risk of contracting the virus in the dense crowd. In this case, Bulgarians' widespread Covid scepticism is compounded by a firm conviction that the immersion, while having little to do with Christian baptism, will ward off all health hazards for at least a year ahead.

In 2022, the January 6 weather, far from warm as it is, was more clement to the performers. In recent years, dancers had to brave sub-zero temperatures, with the drummer doubling as an ice breaker.

Last year the Regional Health Inspectorate banned the event, but it took place nevertheless. Mayor Stoyanov was fined 1,000 leva. He challenged the penalty in court, arguing that he did not organize the horo and was unable to stop the enthusiasts who joined in. The court revoked the fine - but not before supporters countrywide had raised 100,000 leva for the mayor. The sum was donated for the making of a feature film about Kalofer's most famous native son, revolutionary poet Hristo Botev (incidentally, born on Epiphany in 1848).

Kalofer residents claim that the tradition dates at least 200 years back. Expert ethnologists, though, say it is far more recent. This view seems to be shared by UNESCO, which rejected an application to list the Kalofer horo as intangible cultural heritage because it did not meet an essential requirement to prove that it has been practised continuously for at least 50 years.

The claim to uniqueness poses a difficulty, too: the Town of Shipka (not far from Kalofer) also boasts a water horo for Epiphany, in the River Doganishtnitsa. To make up for it, the Kalofer event has spawned a recent replica: in 2018 a group of men in folk costumes waded into Lake Bliznaka (one of the Seven Rila Lakes in Mt Rila, Southwestern Bulgaria) to perform a horo. The organizer was promptly fined for disturbing a protected natural site.

For all the controversy, the Kalofer river dance is a media bonanza, with drone's eye views of the human rings in the river beamed live on most TV channels and reporters braving the element to interview the dancers, mike in hand. The site has witnessed quite a few marriage proposals being made - and accepted. LG