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ACTS Post opinions with a wide range of perspectives to foster constructive discussion.
Relatives and friends of the journalist and BTA CEO Maxim Minchev, who died yesterday, wrote emotional words about him on their Facebook profiles.
We offer to your attention:
Look at Badzheva:
“It took me a while to gather the strength to write these parting words. Maxim Minchev and I fell in love, it was not just a friendship, but that feeling of interplanetary kinship of wandering souls, which one recognizes without fail. It was he who turned me on. more than 20 years in our travels: we wandered with him on every continent (except Australia), we had unforgettable adventures and plans for more. He loved life, life loved him too, and yet I’m sure he set out on his last journey with that curiosity inherent in his tireless, generous and sensitive soul. He reminded me of my father, a choleric with a strong sense of humor, tough, loyal as a soldier and genuinely loving. I will miss him very much. And we are very heartbroken. Bright skies, Max! ”
Valery Todorov:
Forgive and be forgiven!
“The pandemic is truly unforgiving. It also took the life of our lifelong colleague and friend. Maxim Minchev won many battles in his life, but this one, unfortunately, failed. For more than 20 years he was CEO of BTA. There is hardly another colleague who has held such a high position for so long, during the transition years.
We know each other from Bulgarian Radio, when it was not called national yet, but it was Bulgarian. Maxim was working in the military office of the only radio station at the time with a close friend and fellow student of mine who is now in Chicago. When I was a correspondent for Bulgarian National Radio in Moscow, Maxim asked me to broadcast for BTA as well. The previous CEO had closed all the agency’s correspondent offices. I was an independent correspondent for BTA during my next tenure in Moscow, already as a correspondent for BNT. We then met him at meetings of the Bulgarian media abroad. I had promised to publish in Russia the newspaper “Bulgarian News”, which presented business and tourism, the culture of both countries, presented events, personalities, milestones … The first meetings were very bright and strong. We met with colleagues who had chosen the exit. It was sad and pleasant at the same time.
Maxim and I met a little over two weeks ago. A few days after my meeting, while rummaging through my own files, I came across a photo of him from May 27, 2006. I don’t remember when or if I took it. But I put it on my desk and I was always going to send it to him. He did not have his personal email. And every day I was going to send it to him. Maxime, I’m sorry, I’ll do it now.
May your path be bright! You loved to travel. Life and death are time travel. “
Gergana Passy:
Today we lost to Covid our best friend, godfather, godfather of our children Maxim Minchev. Our family companion for 30 years. The most curious, searching, loving, traveling and joyful soul that Moni brought into my life to stay with us forever.
Due to the pandemic, we couldn’t see the few places in the world that I hadn’t set foot in, but I knew it was like you lived there. You turned our modest group of tourists into travelers !!
Peace to your dust, dear Max !!. You’re traveling somewhere again … ”
Solomon Passy:
” Maxim Minchev, a traveling journalist who has traveled to more than 155 countries, my closest friend for 30 years, a colleague in many battles, a partner in many adventures, today he left his creativity and spirit to the world as a model of inspiration of our and the next generations.
He neither invited me nor warned me about his new journey …
Good luck and thanks, Maxi! ”
Georgi Milkov:
A big mustache, a captivating smile. This is the first association with the image of Maxim Minchev. The second association is automatically something related to travel. I have traveled with many people all over the world, but Maxim was the sweetest storyteller I have ever met. When describing a place, he seemed to entertain you with his knowledge. The world around him was always more colorful. We went everywhere together, from China to Mexico.
I remember one of our fun adventures in Southeast Asia when we were in the hospital together. Bed to bed, foot to foot. We took a walk with elephants in the jungles of Laos. While trying to balance the head of an angry elephant, he traveled with the majestic posture of an Indian maharaja on a wooden saddle attached to the back of his elephant. It was a lot of fun, but in the end it all ended in a nasty accident for both of us. We broke a left ankle. I fell off my elephant at the end of the trip and Maxo didn’t hit the step of the wooden ramp that he had to go down. Instead of drinking champagne with the other friends in the group, we sat with him, legs raised and ankles swollen. But the others did not drink champagne either, because the ice was used for compresses on our extremities. They took us to a hospital near Luang Prabang, where the doctor sent us to get an X-ray. Lame Maxim and I went to the office in question, where we found a queue of people waiting. Interestingly, they were all playing with a little boy. Whoever walked into the office passed it to the next in line. It turned out that it was the son of the X-ray technician, who had no one to leave him, and in order not to feel miserable inside the dangerous radiation, the patients outside entertained him. The boy immediately liked Maxim, who probably impressed him with his size, mustache and hat, and also made him funny muzzles. She went to play with him and didn’t look at anyone else. In the end, we barely put anything on it so Max could come take a picture.
In addition to the commotion at the hospital, it turned out that our X-rays were confused, so Maxim’s wife had to go to the doctor and put this cacophony in order. He took the two photographs, looked at them in the light, and said, “This is this gentleman and the other is that gentleman’s neighbor.” The doctor asked her if she was sure and she replied that she was always sure who her own husband’s ankle was.
We laughed a lot and Maxim kept joking about our situation. They bandaged us, prescribed painkillers, and fired us, but outside the radiologist’s boy saw Maxim and grabbed him again. We fled with great difficulty.
By nature, Maxim had an incredible approach to the little league. I don’t know how he always managed to win them so fast. Perhaps with that big smile of his, which captivated us all.
He loved photographing children’s faces, wherever he traveled the world. He captured their faces in the foreground: smiling, snotty, disdainful, wide-eyed, stained to the ears, but shining with innocent purity … He even made a display with those shots, which actually showed mainly what a great lives boy. Somewhere in the heart of this friend of ours and dear fellow traveler. This seemingly insatiable childhood curiosity for the world was read between the lines of his travel diaries and books.
He always found people from all over the world to befriend. Then, if I had to go through these lands again, I would go looking for them.
In the 90s, when trips to Brussels weren’t so casual and formal, he loved going through the same tavern called “At Papi”. For years, all Bulgarians who came to this Pope with the magic phrase “Maxim Minchev sends greetings” received a discount at that time.
Maxo was a magnificent Epicurean with a charming sense of humor. He was truly a traveler at heart and a nomad by vocation. He was proud not so much of the number of foreign countries he visited, but of the fact that he was in all the Bulgarian cities, climbed all the peaks of the country, entered all the caves and monasteries of Bulgaria.
I last heard it a month ago. He called to tell me that he was ready with his book on Africa, which he had asked me to be an editor. We agreed to meet to hand over the manuscripts, which I couldn’t wait to read, because they talked about our favorite Sudan and Ethiopia, the dunes of Western Sahara and the jungles of Gabon. But instead he left without seeing me again. He embarked on his longest journey.
May it have light on the road. “
Bulgaria
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