Here’s what I want you to know about Bulgaria: it’s a post-communistic country that is just learning how to think for itself.

If you need a compelling argument about why communism is bad, get on a plane tomorrow and visit the beautiful country of Bulgaria. The good people who live here are still trying to figure out how to make a living, how to worship freely and how to feel joy.

They’re not even really sure what Christmas is.

One person asked me: “Tell me about the big trees you put in your house at Christmas.”

Another gentlemen, who was seven-years-old when the wall fell, explained to me how there were two things the communists hated: religion and history. And indeed, when you walk around the towns and villages in this country, you’ll find a whole lot of names scratched off plaques, church walls, tombstones and the like – especially religious figure’s names from history.

I went to an Orthodox church service on Sunday at a strikingly beautiful church with a choir in the loft that must have been a team of angels. They sang with such passion, having been banned from singing their whole lives or expressing any sort of religious interest. They sang like someone was going to come in and stop them – no holds barred.

But there were few people in the church. This worshipping thing is going to take some getting used to – even almost three decades after the wall fell. It will take generations before the communist manifesto is erased from their collective consciousness.

One man explained to me how risky it was to worship in any way during the days of communism. If anyone in your family had any relationship with the church – your Uncle Yuref was a janitor at a historic church used for tourism, for example, you were pitied and isolated.

Not that tourism was big business during those years. And not that it’s big business now. It’s going to take a while for the Bulgarians to get the hang of marketing themselves instead of hiding behind a steel political wall. Ordinary citizens were prohibited from having contact with the West when this was the People’s Republic of Bulgaria so some of the older people here are still not used to seeing Americans.

The landscape is beautiful here with patchwork hills full of vineyards and red pepper fields, impressive mountains and a gorgeous seashore along the Black Sea.

And the archaeology is enchanting: Thracian kings buried in green valleys, their tombs stuffed with gold treasures; Roman amphitheaters and marble Olympic-sized stadiums still standing after centuries and sometimes still in use; Byzantine churches with their pastel frescoes; mountaintop cathedrals where Iron Age kings once sat and surveyed their lands.

For the first time in a very long time, Bulgaria isn’t being conquered by the Celts or the Persians or the Ottomans. They’re not being told what form of government to adhere to or tearing down churches to build a mosque or tearing down mosques to build a post office.

For the first time in a long time they’re free to be Bulgaria. It’s going to take a while to figure out exactly what that means.

In fact, the Bulgarians are a somber bunch. There’s not a whole lot of happy people walking around, smiling from ear to ear and greeting passerby’s by tipping their hat. They’re pretty serious people, having been robbed of the joy of self-fulfillment, of choice, of their ability to think seriously about what life means in a spiritual way.

The average Bulgarian makes about $500 a month, so life is still rather stilted here. It’s great to have freedom but money is often the engine that enables you to enjoy it by allowing you to travel or send your child to a better school, or simply heat your house. In fact, the old timers in this country often miss the days when they didn’t have to worry about necessities. Everything was taken care of for them. It’s clear that sometimes communism lives on in people’s minds.

There are still remnants of their communist days in sight: decaying factories and Soviet monuments and the vestiges of forced labor camps. And while those remnants are slowly disappearing, it’s important to understand that democracy can be a double edged sword.

The people here still experience the severity of life. Democracy hasn’t changed that – at least not yet.

I read about a gentleman who organized a protest against political corruption – exercising his newfound right to do so.

No one showed up.

Conditioned not to register dissatisfaction with their government, protesting is still a hard sell.

And sadly, it seems democracy here still hangs by a weak thread. It might be that cell phones, fax machines and the Internet – no longer illegal here – will be the things that save it.