Heading south of Ivaylovgrad, we come across one of the strangest places in Bulgaria – welcome to Mandritsa! Founded in the 17th century by Albanian settlers, this Rhodope village has not only preserved its language, but also its distinctive tall buildings with spacious halls, which can't be seen anywhere else in Bulgaria. 

Many of the buildings are now abandoned and in ruins, but traces of the village's glorious past are still evident. At its peak, Mandritsa, the only Albanian village in Bulgaria, had over 3,000 inhabitants, two schools, an ambulance, a hospital, a maternity ward and a soft drink factory. In its heyday, Mandritsa was a leading centre for silk production. Cocoons were raised in their thousands in the parlours of the houses. Today, the village has only around 20 adult inhabitants who still speak Albanian. Among them is 93-year-old Sultana.

'We don't know how to read or write. We can't write in Albanian. We only speak one dialect. But our dialect is different from theirs. We can’t understand each other. Yes, we spoke Albanian at home. At one time, our grandfathers were banned from speaking it, but they still spoke it at home. Later, during the socialist era, nobody stopped us. Back then, though, our passports said we were 'Albanians'. Later, they changed it to 'Bulgarians'.'

Today, only the people of Mandritsa and a few Bulgarian emigrants in nearby Greece still speak this old Albanian dialect, as we learn from Anton Hristov, the grandson of Grandma Sultana. He is trying to develop tourism in his ancestral village. To this end, he is renovating an old brick building and converting it into an eco-friendly guesthouse. Like other buildings in the area, it was originally used for raising silkworms.

“There are clay houses elsewhere, but not exactly like these. Some of the houses in Mandritsa are three storeys high,” says Anton. “The old-time builders were unique. It would be difficult to build something like this nowadays. The foundations are made of stone, but not very deep. 

Everything above that is wood and mud bricks. They are not fire-baked though; they are made in moulds and dried in the sun. It's a huge amount of work. Probably 100 people worked on each house. The beams and wood inside were also hand-crafted. The houses were designed for silkworm breeding, as they maintain a constant temperature and have natural ventilation. The people lived crammed into a tiny room. The first floor was usually used as a barn, the second floor was for the silkworms and the third floor was for the owners."

The craftsmen of Mandritsa used various types of clay. They sourced the clay used for plasterwork from the Byala River, calling it “white plaster”. For making bricks, they dug up clay on site and mixed it with stones to make it sturdier. The floors were coated with a mixture of clay and cow dung, which, as Anton explains, is the best natural insulation against both heat and cold. He used the traditional construction techniques of his ancestors when restoring his eco guesthouse. Visitors don't come for commercial entertainment, but to engage in cultural dialogue with the past.

"Together with the Meshtra organisation — they’re architects — we organise courses on working with clay," says Anton Hristov. "We have both practical workshops and theory classes. They lead the theory classes, but we help out when it comes to working with the clay. The courses are held here, and we accommodate people in this house so they can experience the atmosphere. They learn how to work with clay, how to make bricks, plasters and finishes.”