Family Introductions

Това е съпругата ми.

Tova e saprugata mi.

This is my wife.

As you gesture toward your partner — swap in съпругът ми for a husband.

Това е съпругът ми.

Tova e saprugat mi.

This is my husband.

The counterpart introduction — same warm gesture toward your partner.

Това са децата ми.

Tova sa detsata mi.

These are my kids.

Note the plural 'са' when you present more than one child at once.

Приятно ми е.

Priyatno mi e.

Nice to meet you.

The standard line the moment you shake hands with someone new.

Радвам се да се запознаем.

Radvam se da se zapoznaem.

I'm glad to meet you.

A touch warmer than 'приятно ми е' — good when you meet a partner's or friend's parents.

Чувал съм много за вас.

Chuval sam mnogo za vas.

I've heard a lot about you.

A friendly opener that flatters the parents — a female speaker says 'чувала съм'.

Имате прекрасен дом.

Imate prekrasen dom.

You have a lovely home.

Bulgarian hosts take real pride in their home — this compliment always lands well.

Храната е много вкусна.

Hranata e mnogo vkusna.

The food is very delicious.

Praising the food is expected at a Bulgarian table — say it and expect a second helping.

Благодаря за поканата.

Blagodarya za pokanata.

Thank you for the invitation.

Say it on arrival or as you leave — acknowledges the effort they put into hosting you.

Това е малък подарък за вас.

Tova e malak podarak za vas.

This is a small gift for you.

Bulgarians rarely arrive empty-handed — hand over flowers, wine, or sweets with this line.

По-бавно, моля.

Po-bavno, molya.

Slower, please.

Warm hosts get excited and speed up — this keeps you in the conversation.

Може ли да повторите?

Mozhe li da povtorite?

Can you repeat that?

The polite 'once more?' when you miss a name or a kind word at the table.

Заповядайте, влизайте! Добре дошли!

Zapovyadaite, vlizaite! Dobre doshli!

Come in, come in! Welcome!

Something you hear the second the door opens. 'Заповядайте' is the all-purpose 'please, go ahead' — here it means step inside. Вие, because they have only just met you.

Събуйте се, ето ви чехли.

Sabuite se, eto vi chehli.

Take your shoes off, here are slippers for you.

Something you hear in the hallway. Shoes come off inside almost every Bulgarian home and a pair of guest slippers is already waiting — never argue about it.

Да се събуя ли?

Da se sabuya li?

Should I take my shoes off?

Ask it at the door before anyone has to tell you. Asking is the polite move even when the answer is obviously yes.

Донесохме ви цветя и малко вино.

Donesohme vi tsvetya i malko vino.

We brought you flowers and a little wine.

Handing the gift over as coats come off. 'Донесохме' is the we-form and carries no gender, so it works for any speaker. Give an odd number of stems — even numbers are for funerals.

Ама защо се притеснявахте! Не трябваше.

Ama zashto se pritesnyavahte! Ne tryabvashe.

Oh, why did you go to any trouble! You shouldn't have.

Something you hear as they take your gift. It is a ritual protest, not a refusal — smile and let them carry it to the table.

Седни тук, до мен.

Sedni tuk, do men.

Sit here, next to me.

Something you hear as the table fills up. Note the ти: an older relative uses ти to a younger guest straight away, while you keep to вие with them. Where you are seated matters — take the chair you are given.

Аз съм съпругът на Мария.

Az sam saprugat na Mariya.

I'm Maria's husband.

Your opening line to a relative who has not met you yet — swap in your partner's name. A woman says 'Аз съм съпругата на Иван'. Bulgarians place you in the family the moment they hear whose you are.

Вие откъде сте родом?

Vie otkade ste rodom?

Where are you originally from?

Something you hear within the first minute. 'Родом' means by birth — they want the country and the town you grew up in, not your Sofia address.

От Америка съм, от Чикаго.

Ot Amerika sam, ot Chikago.

I'm from America, from Chicago.

The answer to 'откъде сте родом'. Built with 'от' rather than американец/американка so the one sentence serves any speaker. Чикаго is how Chicago is written and said here.

А вие как се запознахте?

A vie kak se zapoznahte?

So how did you two meet?

Something you hear at the table, usually from an aunt. The story gets retold to everyone who arrives late, so keep a short version ready.

Запознахме се в София преди пет години.

Zapoznahme se v Sofiya predi pet godini.

We met in Sofia five years ago.

The short answer to the how-did-you-meet story. The we-form has no gender in it, so change only the town and the number of years.

Тъща ми готви прекрасно.

Tashta mi gotvi prekrasno.

My mother-in-law cooks wonderfully.

A man says тъща for his wife's mother and тъст for her father. Say this where she can hear it and you have a friend for life.

Научих се да правя ракия от тъста си.

Nauchih se da pravya rakiya ot tasta si.

I learned to make rakia from my father-in-law.

Тъст is the wife's father — the man whose approval you are quietly working on. 'Научих се' is a past form with no gender in it.

Свекърва ми е от Пловдив.

Svekarva mi e ot Plovdiv.

My mother-in-law is from Plovdiv.

A woman married to a Bulgarian man says свекърва for his mother and свекър for his father. Saying тъща when you mean свекърва instantly marks you as an outsider.

Ти вече си ни зет, значи си от семейството.

Ti veche si ni zet, znachi si ot semeistvoto.

You're our son-in-law now, so you're family.

Something you hear once they have decided about you, usually over rakia. Зет is the son-in-law, снаха the daughter-in-law — and the switch to ти is the real content of the sentence.

Снаха ни е американка, но говори български.

Snaha ni e amerikanka, no govori balgarski.

Our daughter-in-law is American, but she speaks Bulgarian.

Something you hear said about you to a neighbour, with pride. Снаха covers both a son's wife and a brother's wife.

А аз как да ви наричам?

A az kak da vi naricham?

And what should I call you?

Ask this early, in вие. The answer tells you everything: a bare first name means relax, 'чичо' or 'лельо' plus a name means you are being adopted.

Това е вуйчо ми, братът на майка ми.

Tova e vuicho mi, bratat na maika mi.

This is my uncle — my mother's brother.

Вуйчо is strictly the mother's brother; чичо is the father's brother. English has one word for both, Bulgarian never mixes them up.

Той чичо ли ви е, или вуйчо?

Toi chicho li vi e, ili vuicho?

Is he your father's brother, or your mother's brother?

Asking this at a gathering shows you know the distinction exists, and it lands better than any compliment. Свако is the third one — the husband of an aunt.

Тя леля ли ти е, или стрина?

Tya lelya li ti e, ili strina?

Is she your aunt by blood, or your uncle's wife?

Леля is your parent's sister; стрина is the wife of your чичо. Ask a cousin your own age, so ти is right here.

Чакай сега да ти кажа кой кой е.

Chakai sega da ti kazha koi koi e.

Hold on, let me tell you who's who.

Something you hear when twelve people arrive at once. Let it happen, and ask again later — nobody minds being asked twice.

Кумът ни е като брат, той е част от семейството.

Kumat ni e kato brat, toi e chast ot semeistvoto.

Our kum is like a brother — he's part of the family.

Something you hear when someone who is clearly not a blood relative is seated with the family. The кум and кума witnessed the wedding and stand as godparents to the children — closer than many cousins, and they get an honoured seat.

Стига с това вие, вече сме семейство.

Stiga s tova vie, veche sme semeistvo.

Enough with the formal 'вие' — we're family now.

Something you hear, often from the father-in-law, and it is a promotion. From that second you use ти with that person; going back to вие would read as pushing them away.

Викай ми чичо Иван, без официалности.

Vikai mi chicho Ivan, bez ofitsialnosti.

Call me Uncle Ivan, no formalities.

Something you hear from an older man who has decided he likes you. 'Чичо' plus a first name is the warm address for any older man, related or not, and it comes bundled with ти.

Може ли вече да си говорим на ти?

Mozhe li veche da si govorim na ti?

Can we use 'ти' with each other now?

Offer this to someone roughly your own age — a cousin, a partner's sibling. Never offer it upward to a parent-in-law; wait for them to offer it to you.

Извинявайте, аз по навик съм на вие.

Izvinyavaite, az po navik sam na vie.

Sorry, I'm on 'вие' out of habit.

Cover for yourself when you keep slipping back into вие after being invited to ти. It reads as respect, not as distance.

Ти вече си от нашите.

Ti veche si ot nashite.

You're one of ours now.

Something you hear late in a long evening, and it is the sentence you are actually here for. 'От нашите' means inside the family, not a guest any more.

Хайде, яж! Не се стеснявай.

Haide, yazh! Ne se stesnyavai.

Come on, eat! Don't be shy.

Something you hear before you have properly sat down. Refusing food outright is a real social wound here — take some, even a little.

Още малко! Само една лъжица.

Oshte malko! Samo edna lazhitsa.

A bit more! Just one spoonful.

Something you hear with the ladle already moving over your plate. Your first 'не' is heard as politeness, so expect to be served anyway.

Ти си много слаб, трябва да ядеш повече.

Ti si mnogo slab, tryabva da yadesh poveche.

You're too thin, you need to eat more.

Something you hear, and it is affection rather than criticism. Said to a woman it becomes 'много слаба' — the adjective agrees with you, so listen for both endings.

Ама ти нищо не яде!

Ama ti nishto ne yade!

But you haven't eaten anything!

Something you hear after your second helping. The measure is not how much you ate, it is how much is left in the pot.

Опитай това, аз съм го правила.

Opitai tova, az sam go pravila.

Try this, I made it myself.

Something you hear as a dish is pushed across the table. The participle 'правила' is feminine because the cook saying it is a woman — this is a line you only ever hear, never say.

С удоволствие, сипете ми малко.

S udovolstvie, sipete mi malko.

With pleasure, serve me a little.

The safe answer to any offer of food: yes, but small. 'Сипете' is the вие form for the mother-in-law; to a cousin your age it is 'сипи ми'.

Това е най-вкусната баница, която съм ял.

Tova e nai-vkusnata banitsa, koyato sam yal.

This is the best banitsa I've ever eaten.

Name the dish — praise for 'the food' in general counts for far less. A woman says 'която съм яла'.

Такива сарми не съм ял никъде.

Takiva sarmi ne sam yal nikade.

I've never had sarmi like these anywhere.

Сарми are the stuffed vine or cabbage leaves every family claims to make best. A woman says 'не съм яла'.

Какво слагате вътре?

Kakvo slagate vatre?

What do you put in it?

Asking how a dish is made is heard as the sincerest praise there is. Вие to the mother-in-law — and be ready for a ten-minute answer.

Ще ми дадете ли рецептата?

Shte mi dadete li retseptata?

Will you give me the recipe?

The follow-up to 'какво слагате вътре'. Asking for the recipe says you mean to cook it at home, which is the highest compliment available at that table.

Всичко е домашно, аз си го правя.

Vsichko e domashno, az si go pravya.

It's all homemade, I make it myself.

Something you hear about the cheese, the lyutenitsa or the rakia. 'Домашно' — homemade, usually from the village — is the proudest word on a Bulgarian table.

Само малко, моля. Наистина малко.

Samo malko, molya. Naistina malko.

Just a little, please. Really just a little.

The compromise that keeps everyone happy — you accept, they serve, nobody is hurt. Say 'наистина' or the portion doubles.

Наистина не мога повече, много ядох.

Naistina ne moga poveche, mnogo yadoh.

I really can't have any more, I ate a lot.

The honest refusal, softened by naming how much you already had. 'Ядох' is a past form with no gender in it, so it serves any speaker.

Ако ям още, няма да мога да стана от масата!

Ako yam oshte, nyama da moga da stana ot masata!

If I eat any more I won't be able to get up from the table!

The joking refusal, and the one that actually works — a compliment to the cook dressed up as surrender.

Не ти ли хареса?

Ne ti li haresa?

Didn't you like it?

Something you hear the moment you stop eating. It is the gentle guilt trip — answer it with praise, not with an excuse about your stomach.

Много ми хареса, просто вече не мога.

Mnogo mi haresa, prosto veche ne moga.

I loved it, I just can't manage any more.

The right answer to 'не ти ли хареса' — praise first, capacity second, and not a gendered ending in it.

Наздраве! Гледай ме в очите.

Nazdrave! Gledai me v ochite.

Cheers! Look me in the eyes.

Something you hear at the first clink. Eye contact while the glasses touch is not optional here, and looking away reads as shifty.

Тази ракия е домашна, от нашето грозде.

Tazi rakiya e domashna, ot nasheto grozde.

This rakia is homemade, from our own grapes.

Something you hear as the bottle appears, and it is a boast worth honouring. Rakia is sipped slowly alongside the salad at the start of the meal, never knocked back.

Наздраве, за здравето на семейството!

Nazdrave, za zdraveto na semeistvoto!

Cheers — to the health of the family!

Your toast, for when the table turns to look at you. Health comes before everything in a Bulgarian toast; money is never mentioned.

Не си наливай сам, аз ще ти сипя.

Ne si nalivai sam, az shte ti sipya.

Don't pour for yourself, I'll pour for you.

Something you hear if you reach for the bottle. Pouring is the host's job and his way of keeping an eye on you — said to a woman, 'сам' becomes 'сама'.

Само малко, аз ще карам.

Samo malko, az shte karam.

Just a little, I'm driving.

The one refusal of rakia that is accepted without argument. No gender in it, and nobody pushes back afterwards.

Кога ще има бебе?

Koga shte ima bebe?

When is there going to be a baby?

Something you hear, often before dessert, and it is meant warmly. Taking offence is the only wrong answer — this is interest in your life, not an intrusion into it.

Като му дойде времето.

Kato mu doide vremeto.

When the time comes.

The stock Bulgarian answer to any question about children or plans. It closes the subject warmly and everyone at the table recognises it for what it is.

Колко изкарваш на месец?

Kolko izkarvash na mesets?

How much do you make a month?

Something you hear at a family table, and it is not rude here — money talk is ordinary. Answer in the spirit it was asked or turn it into a joke, but do not look offended.

Стига ни, живеем добре.

Stiga ni, zhiveem dobre.

It's enough for us, we live well.

The graceful non-answer about money — warm, closed, no figures. Never name an amount; incomes here and back home do not compare.

Кога ще си купите жилище тук?

Koga shte si kupite zhilishte tuk?

When are you going to buy a place here?

Something you hear once they start picturing you staying. The вие here is plural, not formal — they are asking about you and your partner together.

Мислим по въпроса, но още не сме решили.

Mislim po vaprosa, no oshte ne sme reshili.

We're thinking about it, but we haven't decided yet.

The all-purpose answer to any question about your plans. The we-form keeps you and your partner on the same side and carries no gender.

Покажи ни снимка на твоите.

Pokazhi ni snimka na tvoite.

Show us a photo of your folks.

Something you hear once the phones come out. 'Твоите' — literally 'your ones' — is how Bulgarians refer to their own parents and family.

Ето, това са моите родители.

Eto, tova sa moite roditeli.

Here, these are my parents.

Holding the phone out across the table. Expect every face in the picture to be asked about by name.

Родителите ми ви поздравяват.

Roditelite mi vi pozdravyavat.

My parents send you their greetings.

Say it on arrival and it will be repeated to everyone in the room. Sending greetings between two families who have never met is a real and expected courtesy here.

Тази снимка е на баба ми, тя беше от Банско.

Tazi snimka e na baba mi, tya beshe ot Bansko.

This photo is of my grandmother — she was from Bansko.

Something you hear when the old albums come out, and they will. Ask one question about a photo and you are given the whole family history.

Моето семейство е далече, затова вие сте ми семейство тук.

Moeto semeistvo e daleche, zatova vie ste mi semeistvo tuk.

My family is far away, so you are my family here.

Say this once, late in the evening, and mean it. It is the sentence that turns you from your partner's foreign spouse into one of theirs.

Честит имен ден! Да сте живи и здрави!

Chestit imen den! Da ste zhivi i zdravi!

Happy name day! Long life and good health!

The greeting for anyone named after a saint, said on that saint's day. Kept in the plural so it fits вие and sidesteps the singular жив/жива.

На имен ден не се кани, просто заповядай.

Na imen den ne se kani, prosto zapovyadai.

You don't get invited to a name day — you just come.

Something you hear, and you should believe it. On a name day the house is open, the person celebrating does the hosting, and turning up unannounced is the correct behaviour.

Кога ти е имен ден?

Koga ti e imen den?

When is your name day?

Ask each relative once and write the dates down — forgetting a name day is noticed far more than forgetting a birthday.

Имен ден ми е на Гергьовден, шести май.

Imen den mi e na Gergyovden, shesti mai.

My name day is on Gergyovden, the sixth of May.

Something you hear in answer. Гергьовден — Saint George's day — covers everyone called Георги or Гергана and is one of the biggest family days of the year.

Честито! За много години!

Chestito! Za mnogo godini!

Congratulations! Many happy returns!

The two-part formula for a name day, a birthday, a new job or a new flat. 'За много години' literally wishes you many more years of it.

Да помогна ли с масата?

Da pomogna li s masata?

Shall I help with the table?

Offer before the food comes out, while there is still laying-up to do. The offer matters even though the answer is almost always no.

Оставете, аз ще измия чиниите.

Ostavete, az shte izmiya chiniite.

Leave it, I'll wash the dishes.

Stand up and say it once the plates are empty. Вие to the mother-in-law — and expect to be sat straight back down.

Седни, ти си гост!

Sedni, ti si gost!

Sit down, you're a guest!

Something you hear the moment you touch a plate. Offer once more, then sit — insisting past the second refusal is its own kind of rude.

Остави, остави! Ти нищо няма да пипаш.

Ostavi, ostavi! Ti nishto nyama da pipash.

Leave it, leave it! You're not touching a thing.

Something you hear if you carry the plates to the kitchen anyway. Say 'добре, добре' and let go of them.

Още уча български, имайте търпение.

Oshte ucha balgarski, imaite tarpenie.

I'm still learning Bulgarian, please be patient.

Say it once at the start of the evening, in вие, and the whole table will slow down for you. Saying it in Bulgarian is the entire point.

Браво, много добре се справяш!

Bravo, mnogo dobre se spravyash!

Well done, you're doing really well!

Something you hear after your first full sentence. Take it with a simple 'благодаря' — arguing with the compliment kills the goodwill behind it.

Извинявайте, какво означава тази дума?

Izvinyavaite, kakvo oznachava tazi duma?

Sorry, what does that word mean?

Better than going quiet — asking about one word keeps the conversation in Bulgarian and flatters whoever explains it.

Кажете го пак, но по-бавно, моля.

Kazhete go pak, no po-bavno, molya.

Say it again, but slower, please.

For the aunt talking at full speed across the table. Вие form; to a cousin your own age it becomes 'кажи го пак'.

Като идваш по-често, ще научиш.

Kato idvash po-chesto, shte nauchish.

Come round more often and you'll learn it.

Something you hear that is half teaching, half invitation. It is also how you get asked back — say 'ще идвам' and mean it.

Чакай да ти сложа малко в кутия.

Chakai da ti slozha malko v kutiya.

Hold on, let me put some in a box for you.

Something you hear while you are putting your coat on. You are not leaving empty-handed and this is not up for negotiation.

Ето ти един буркан лютеница, домашна е.

Eto ti edin burkan lyutenitsa, domashna e.

Here's a jar of lyutenitsa for you — it's homemade.

Something you hear at the door. Лютеница is the roasted pepper relish every family jars in autumn — take it, and bring the empty jar back next time.

Много е, няма нужда! Благодаря ви от сърце.

Mnogo e, nyama nuzhda! Blagodarya vi ot sartse.

That's too much, there's no need! Thank you from the heart.

The protest you are expected to make before accepting anyway. Protest once, then thank them properly — refusing twice would genuinely hurt.

Време е да си тръгваме, утре сме на работа.

Vreme e da si tragvame, utre sme na rabota.

It's time we headed home, we're at work tomorrow.

Give a reason or leaving reads as an escape. The we-form is what you use when you go together, and it carries no gender.

Къде бързате? Още е рано!

Kade barzate? Oshte e rano!

Where are you rushing off to? It's still early!

Something you hear the first three times you try to leave. Budget forty minutes between announcing you are going and actually going.

Благодаря ви за всичко, беше прекрасно.

Blagodarya vi za vsichko, beshe prekrasno.

Thank you for everything, it was wonderful.

Said at the door with your coat on, to both parents at once — вие is doing double duty here as plural and polite.

Заповядайте пак, но по-скоро!

Zapovyadaite pak, no po-skoro!

Come again — and sooner this time!

Something you hear on the doorstep. It is a real invitation rather than a formula — a month later they will remember they said it.

Следващия път вие идвате у нас.

Sledvashtiya pat vie idvate u nas.

Next time you come to us.

Return the hospitality out loud before you go. Being fed and never feeding back is the one thing that gets quietly noticed.

Много поздрави на баба и на дядо.

Mnogo pozdravi na baba i na dyado.

Lots of love to Grandma and Grandpa.

For the relatives who were not at the table. Passing greetings along the family is constant here — say it and it will be delivered word for word.