Last month a supermarket opened in my town. Not only has this changed what I buy and what I pay at site, but it got me thinking about how I shop for groceries here in Romania. I buy my produce from a small market near my apartment or at the weekly piata. Vegetables there are very cheap, especially in the summer, and locally grown. Specialty items, like bananas and lettuce, need to be bought at a grocery store, but produce staples are found at the piata.

I buy meat, mostly chicken, and eggs from the butcher shop around the corner. If I want to use a chicken breast for dinner or I need 3 eggs for baking, I can easily buy those from the shop at a much lower price than at a supermarket.

If I need a small loaf of bread, small because otherwise it will go stale before I can eat it all, I buy it from the bakery across the street. I know the shop ladies and we have short conversations about my day whenever I go in there.

I now go to the Kaufland if I need standards like milk or rice, or if I’m craving something a little more like home. They have soy sauce and salsa, even if the “hot” flavor is more of a “mild.” When I leave to do some shopping, I make sure I have my Chico bag rolled up in my purse to carry things home in and my 50 bani piece in my pocket to use a cart in the store. If I’m lucky I won’t be accosted by a child begging at the entrance and can just swap someone my coin for their cart with a smile and an “O zi buna” (have a nice day.)

It has become a routine for me to giggle at the amazed looks on customers faces when they see how big and bright the store is inside and to assist struggling elderly shoppers with printing out the price tickets as they try to weigh their fruits and vegetables. I’ve had much more practice maneuvering carts through aisles and efficiently loading the belt with my purchases in the check-out line.

I limit each errand to no more than my one reusable bag so that the ten minute walk home over the train tracks isn’t too cumbersome. I think about loading up a car with a dozen bags or even an entire cart full of bulk goods at Costco and I both miss it and see how I really don’t need any more than what is in that one bag.

After going west for Christmas, I decided to venture east, well southeast, after the New Year. I began my journey by taking three trains to get to Bucharest, via another volunteer’s site, and then a plane to Istanbul.

I was excited to visit Istanbul because it is so different from any other place I’ve ever visited. Just flying into the city allowed me to see how vast, sprawling and crowded it is. There are people everywhere. Given the travelling we had to do to get there, we decided to have an easy first day after checking into our hostel. We took the tram across the bridge to Taksim and enjoyed a gorgeous sunset from the Galata Tower balcony. This city is truly breathtaking and the Tower provides a wonderful panorama of the entire landscape.

Wednesday was our sightseeing day in the old part of the city, Sultanahmet. Our first stop was the Hagia Sophia. First, a Byzantine Church originally built in 360 AD, then a mosque from 1453 until 1931. I spent most of my visit trying to rack my brain for the date of the Nicene Council, 325 AD for those of you wondering, to know if the original Church was built as purely Christian or as Orthodox after the split from Rome. I was correct in my guess that it was originally an Orthodox Byzantine Cathedral. The building itself is mind-blowing. I could easily see how it was the largest cathedral in the world for thousands of years. The inside is a peculiar melding of Christian and Islamic elements, from the ancient mosaics in the upper gallery to the large Arabic language paintings attached to the unbelievable domed ceiling.

While waiting for the Blue Mosque to open from one of the five daily sessions for prayer, we wandered around Hippodrome Park. It was amazing to see an ancient Serpent column from Delphi standing next to an ancient Egyptian obelisk and the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain. The juxtaposition of these items made me feel just how old this part of the world is. We had a light lunch and then found the Basilica Cistern, which is an underground water system. Of note, the mysterious upside down Medusa head sculptures. There is so much influence from Rome and Greece in Istanbul. It truly was and is a place where East meets West.

The Blue Mosque and the Süleymaniye Mosque, which we visited the following day, we extremely interesting since they are both beautiful historical structures as well as continue to be fully functioning religious meeting places. When prayers are not taking place, visitors are welcome to enter and gawk at the beautiful and intricate Iznik tiles that decorate the walls and ceilings. It was especially wonderful to be outside the Mosques when the call to prayer started. It was interestingly calming and surprising every time we heard it.

On Thursday, we decided to brave the Grand Bazaar and do some souvenir shopping. By this point we were pretty used to saying no to carpet sellers and we knew what we wanted to buy before we entered, ready to haggle ourselves a good deal. Aisles and aisles of scarves, rugs, leather goods, and jewelry; the Grand Bazaar is a place you can easily get lost in. After some success, we ventured to the Spice Bazaar, as we were told there were more touristy wears to be bought there. The colors and crowd of the Spice Bazaar were overwhelming and very much what I had imagined. We made some quick purchases and escaped back over the river to Taksim for dinner.

We left a major attraction for our last morning in Istanbul: Topkapi Palace. Once the residence for Ottoman Sultans, now it is a museum where you could spend hours closely examining tiled and painted murals, the royal jewel collection, and a collection of royal garments, all on the beautifully manicured grounds of the palace. I could have spent all day there exploring. My favorite highlights included the tiles of the Circumcision Room and Baghdad Kiosk in the fourth courtyard, which also displayed beautiful views across the Bosphorus to the Asia side of the city. Another favorite was the Privy Chamber which housed many holy relics including Moses’ staff and Joseph’s turban; the cynic in me questions the legitimacy of both these items.

This short visit to Istanbul was enough to whet my appetite for the region. I would love to explore more of Turkey and its intricate and varied history and culture.

Last year I had my first experience with the traditional Bear Dance Festival in my town with a few other volunteers. So this year, I was grateful to share this outrageous and interesting tradition with a few other volunteers.

Traditionally, Romanians in this part of the country caught bears when they were young and taught them to dance to the beat of a drum using some Pavlovian conditionals and hot coals. Once that practice was outlawed, villagers decided to just kill bears and dance themselves, wearing the bear skins.

Marta was very excited to witness the event after hearing my descriptions of last year. She took the early morning train and we made cinnamon rolls for when the other volunteers in our county arrived. From my balcony we got to witness one of the bear troops coming down from the hills to town for the competition.

After breakfast, we ventured into the center of town where the contest was taking place. We watched some bear dances, a goat dance, and a skit performed by some old men in wigs that I couldn’t understand for the life of me. I showed the other volunteers around my site and we met a few of my students dressed in their bear outfits.

When I see my students outside of class at a function like this one, it reminds me of the bigger picture that Peace Corps is involved with. My students may not all be learning perfect English, but hopefully they will remember the year or two they had that American teacher who was so different. It is incredibly empowering to know that you are broadening the horizons of children just by being yourself. What seems completely normal to me is sometimes something completely foreign to my students. Sharing those ideas and experiences is much more important than perfect grammar or pronunciation.

This is such an isolated and special tradition. I am so grateful that I was placed here so that I got to experience it and all the kindness I have been shown from the people of my town.

Recent conversations with fellow Volunteers have allowed me to conclude that we all have similar feelings of stagnation at this point in our service. As birthdays and holidays, big events like weddings, births, and deaths; we are reminded that while we have been here, in Romania, with basically the same routine for a year and a half, life has continued on without us. Now, technology has allowed us to stay in touch more easily than ever before, so when we do return home, it won’t be a big shock, rather it will feel like we are two years behind schedule.

To combat the lackluster feeling of last year, spending Christmas alone in Romania, Marta and I decided to venture west to Hungary. We had heard great things about Budapest and were excited to visit the city for the holidays. I hoped snow and lights and shoppers and that special Christmas feeling.

What I learned was threefold. One, Budapest is FREEZING in December, whether there is snow or not. Two, travelling at Christmas allows you to meet other tourists travelling at Christmas while you all bemoan nothing being open on the actual Day. Finally, three, that special Christmas feeling cannot be concocted by anything other than being with family, no matter what Macy’s, Apple and Times Square want you to believe.

Although it doesn’t feel like I had a Christmas, I did have a splendid time in a new exciting place with a wonderful friend and travel buddy. To begin, we channeled Betty and Judy of White Christmas and booked a sleeping car on a night train to Budapest. Let me tell you, American trains in the 1950s may have been more comfortable than Romanian trains in 2011. It was certainly an experience; one I don’t really wish to repeat.

Arriving on the morning of the 23rd, we checked in and ventured out into the freezing cold fog. Every inch of me was thankful for the long underwear my Dad gifted me with last year. We perused the Great Hall Market for trinkets, passing up the fresh produce and deli cuts, tried and failed to pronounce anything in Hungarian, and enjoyed a light lunch by splitting a gravy-filled baked potato. Our hotel was right off the main shopping road, so we followed it down to the Christmas market at Vörösmarty Square. Little booths with handicrafts ringed trees decorated with lights and pavilions selling traditional Hungarian food and, of course purchased some mulled wine in a commemorative festival mug. My favorite sighting was a Hungarian Church choir performing Joyful, Joyful with a large middle-aged man taking the Lauryn Hill lead.

We decided to spend Christmas Eve partaking in one of Budapest’s famous past-times. Equipped with a voucher from our hotel, we spent the morning and early afternoon popping in and out of various thermal pools at the Szechenyi Bath House. A hundred year old building in the middle of the city park holds three outdoor pools, my favorite, and fifteen indoor ones, ranging from lukewarm pools to extremely hot saunas. After pruning for a few hours and feeling thoroughly refreshed we ventured through the park, stopping at Vajdahunyad Castle and Hero’s Square before dinner and an early return to our hotel to get ready for a Christmas Eve church service.

Marta discovered a magazine article about an English-speaking Scottish Presbyterian Church in Budapest with an interesting history and a timely 11:30 p.m. service we could attend. After spotting the street St. Columba’s was on earlier that day, we were confident that we could walk there, giving ourselves an hour for any complications. Needless to say, it was difficult to find. Communism had stripped many religious buildings of any indication that they were, in deed, churches, so we walked by it a few times before Marta found the small plaque indicating it was what we were looking for.

Since we were a few minutes late, we decided to just sneak in and sit in the back. This is the part in the movie where the doors, all three of them, squeak really loudly when you open them. Then you open the last door to the actual sanctuary and instead of a congregation of 90 families as the article had stated; there are ten people sitting in a semi-circle around the altar table. And, of course, everyone turns to stare at the two sniffling American women as they try to take off their gloves and hats without too much commotion and make their way up the aisle to the chairs the minister rushed to add dead-center to the circle.

Luckily, after our abrupt entrance, we jumped right into the most awkward rendition of O Come O Come Emmanuel I have ever participated in and a children’s sermon, complete with puppet, for the one child in attendance. The highlight of the service was when the minister stopped and restarted Still the Night, the British version of Silent Night, because even he flubbed the alternative lyrics.

Christmas Day was our only clear day, which made it perfect for crossing the many bridges of the Danube over to the Buda side of the city. Buda Castle and Palace are high on a hill that overlooks the river and Pest beyond. My favorite was the Gothic Matthias Church with its intricate carvings and amazing tiled roof. Build into the hill below is the Fisherman’s Bastion which afforded us some great views across the Hungary’s Parliament building.

We spent another day and a half wandering the streets of Pest, enjoying the Christmas markets and relaxing. It was a great way to detox from the semester and enjoy a different culture for a few days.

I have about six months left of my service. In some ways, time has gone by really quickly. It seems like just yesterday I was waving goodbye to my parents at Reagan. But I have also grown so much and learned so many new things that it seems like I have been here forever. And although these past twenty months have flown by, these next six sometimes seem to stretch out in front of me like connected train cars of the Bucharest metro. My New Year’s resolution is to write here more often. The trouble I have is that my daily life here in Romania doesn’t seem all that interesting to me. But I know that if I write about what seems mundane now, I will really appreciate having that to look back on when I am back home, feeling mundane in the States. So in an attempt to make myself write more, I’m putting the idea here in writing in the hopes that I will stick to it.

What I like best about the changing of the seasons is the anticipation. When the sticky heat of late August turns to the crisp chill of autumn, the weather spurs us to look forward, to think of the future. We automatically think of frosty winter days, curled up with a mug of hot cocoa or spinning around with child-like wonder at the first fall of snow. The anticipation of these events is so much better than the reality of them. When we are trapped inside on cold dreary days and the nights are dark and long, the reality falls short of our imaginations. Our actual experiences lack the magic we imbue through our anticipation. But the anticipation makes it worth it. If we revel in the anticipation with eagerness and hope we will enjoy our day to day activities. And that, really, is the best way to experience life.

Despite all the beautiful scenery, richly historical sites and varied ways of life that Romania has to offer, the one overlying theme of my Dad's visit to Romania was that road signs, or a lack thereof, can be completely confusing and frustrating. Luckily, Dad was patient enough and a great driver, so renting a car and navigating the sometimes epically rough terrain of Romanian roads, didn't end in our terrible demise. I did learn that there are positives and negatives to both public and private transportation in Romania.

After meeting my Dad in Bucuresti on Sunday (and finding our hotel by following McDonald's signs) we headed back to Comanesti for a couple days. Dad got to attend a class and meet my counterparts. It was interesting to see my two worlds meet. After visiting my weekly piata, we ventured to a local dam and decided to go for a scenic drive around the lake. This turned into long, slow trek over the Carpathian Mountains into the Hungarian-speaking Hargita County. It was a beautiful, if not anxiety inducing, drive.

Thursday we began our cross-country expedition, winding our way through Neamt County among the changing leaves of Ceahlau National Park up to Maramures, the northern most region of the country. We spent the night in Sighetu Marmatiei right on the Ukrainian border. Maramures is known for its wooden churches and traditional dress. We read some ironic epitaphs at the Merry Cemetery and were astounded by the story of an imprisoned resistance fighter we met at the Museum and Memorial for Prisoners of Communism in Sighet. His story was very moving and I tried to translate the best I could as he pointed out his parents, sister and himself on the wall of imprisoned resistance fighters. It was a sobering moment in a very historically rich place.

Saturday we ventured to a fellow volunteer's Transylvanian site for a short break from driving before visiting some beautiful towns near Sibiu and even hiking to some Dacian ruins as night was descending faster than we could descend the hill. A late dinner of a shared Peasants' Platter filled us with five different types of pork and enough sodium to make any cholesterol-concerned doctor weep.

The next day we logged many of Transylvania's fortified churches from Sibiu to Brasov. The most impressive one was in the small village of Biertan; the church lending itself to any fairytale princess daydream. We lunched in Sighisoara, the birthplace of Vlad Tepes and an impressive citadel-city, complete with schools, churches, hotels and restaurants within the walls.

Monday and Tuesday were spent at the Danube Delta. By staying in a pensiune (bed & breakfast) we had a much cozier experience than at a hotel. We were greeted with tuica, though probably not as strong as the palinca in Maramures, and shortly introduced to the woman who would be cooking all our meals and the man who would take us out on that boat to see the Delta and the Black Sea. We got to try some traditional Deltan fish cooking and the scenery during the boat ride was gorgeous.

There are so many varied landscapes in Romania for such a small area. It was wonderful to see and compare them all in such a short amount of time. And it was amazing to share a little of my experience here and some of the Romanian culture with my Dad.

Day Trip to Iasi:

In Early August, Marta and I decided to visit Iasi, which we had been told was the “Crown Jewel” of Moldavia. To summarize, we were a little disappointed with what we found. Iasi is mainly a university city and while we impressed by the beautiful buildings and the number of college-age Romanians we saw, we were disappointed by the promised cultural aspects of the city. Both the famous intricately carved Three Hierarchs Orthodox Church and the Cultural Palace were under construction. We also ventured to the Great Synagogue of Iasi, which the travel guide described as a “sad misnomer.” We returned to Comanesti hours earlier than expected.

Arts Camp in Palanca:

The next week, Marta, three other volunteers and I participated in an arts camp in Mil’s former site of Palanca, about 40 kilometers up the valley from me. We had a wonderful week teaching kids crafts (Marta), theater (Tessy and Candice), and music (me and Ben). We all stayed with gazdas (hosts) for the week and were extremely well fed. We had a few excursions into the hills surrounding the small village and had a presentation at the end of the week for the parents and townspeople. The kids really enjoyed the camp and it was very gratifying to see the fun they were having.

Peace Corps Conference in Sinaia:

The last week of August I spent in Sinaia, a mountain tourist town near Brasov. It is a popular ski destination in winter and home to Peles Castle, which I visited last summer with my counterparts during my site visit. It was nice to spend time with the other volunteers and I got to meet the volunteers from the new group, which will be the last group of Peace Corps Romania, since the post is closing in 2013.

Lara Visits Romania:

One thing that made returning to Romania from my amazing trip to London more bearable was the fact that Lara was coming to visit the next day! We had two wonderful weeks of relaxing in Comanesti and touring some Romanian hot spots. It was so great seeing someone from home and sharing Romania with Lara.

Sighisoara:

We spent a rainy 4th of July at the birthplace of Vlad Tepes (Dracula). Sighisoara is based in Transylvania around an old German citadel on a hill with a gorgeous clock-tower and a few of its old guild towers.

Bran:

The next day we ventured to Brasov and after a few buses and lots of questions and help from a couple old bunicas, we made it to Castelul Bran, the medieval castle that Bram Stoker’s Dracula Castle is based on. Although Vlad Tepes was never actually in Bran, the castle still has a lot of significance in Romanian history.

Constanta:

Lara and I also spent a few days in Constanta, Romania’s main port on the Black Sea. There is another volunteer, Stephani, who lives in Constanta and was kind enough to let us stay at her apartment so we could enjoy the beaches and relax for a few days. There is more diversity in Constanta than in a lot of the country due to its proximity to Turkey and the East.

Time here is slippery. It bends and warps in such a way that I can’t grasp it solidly. This is my attempt at a poetic apology for not updating about my truly exciting and absurdly busy summer.

London: I spent six days in London to kick of my summer. Jessica, Jocelyn and I were able to pack in almost every tourist spot imaginable into our trip and still have time to attend the Glee concert on Saturday. It was wonderful to be in a place with so much history and such diversity! I was so excited to speak English and eat Indian food. Traveling to common tourist destinations as a Peace Corps volunteer is interesting because there is such of juxtaposition of wanting to visit regular tourist attractions and experience first world comforts.

Trip highlights:

Westminster Abbey.

I loved the combination of beautiful architecture, religious reverence and deeply rooted history that Westminster Abbey instills in its visitors. Being able to tour the church at your own pace with a head set allowed me to focus on the aspects (history) that interested me most. My favorite place in the Abbey was Poet’s Corner where Shakespeare and many other great authors and composers are buried.

Globe Theater:

I have a great appreciation for Shakespeare’s timeless stories. Touring the Globe Theater offered a magnifying glass to Shakespeare’s London and the Elizabethan period his plays embody. Our tour guide provided many interesting details and seeing the intricately replicated theater house was wonderful.

Tower of London:

Jocelyn and I were lucky enough to have a tour with the Tower’s first and only female Beefeater. She was extremely knowledgeable and hilarious. Of course, the Crown Jewels were breathtaking, and the monument to the executioner’s block and church where Anne Boleyn was beheaded and buried was particularly interesting.

St. James’s Park and Soho Square:

After a busy week and even busier Saturday, Jessica and I spent a relaxing Sunday and a few different parks. St. James’s Park is beautiful and situated centrally between Buckingham Palace and St. James’s Palace, where Prince Charles and family live. Soho Square was possibly my favorite place in London. There was such an eclectic range of people just sitting and chatting on a Sunday afternoon. It was a great place for relaxing and people watching.

I’ve lived truly alone for over a year now. I still don’t think of myself as an adult. But when I see myself through others’ eyes, I sometimes catch a glimpse of my reflection and am surprised by what I see. Yesterday I spent the day in Onesti and took a mid-afternoon train home. My behavior on public transportation has become almost a ritual these past sixteen months. Don’t make eye contact, watch my baggage and try not to look too American. I mind my own business and try not to draw attention to the fact that I don’t have a complete grasp of the language here. For the most part, I can travel around with relative ease and few incidents.

Yesterday, however, was another story. As chose my seat in the train car yesterday, I began my ritual like usual, putting my bag in the seat across from, my purse at my side and opened up my book. Across the aisle, a girl a few years younger than me sat down and a middle-aged man sat in the seat across from her. I couldn’t tell if they knew each other or not.

As the train pulled away from the station it became apparent that they did not know each other. The man started a conversation with the girl and the girl politely answered his question. As our train moved slowly up my little valley, the man invaded more and more of the girl’s personal space; finally moving to sit on the bench next to her, uncomfortably close. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the man continued pressing closer and the girl said please move and cowered toward the window. No one else in the train car seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

When I saw the man’s hand go up the girl’s skirt, I knew I had to act. I stood and turned the man by the shoulder, said excuse me and waved the girl to the seat across from me. The girl, looking greatly relieved, took a book from me and we resolutely ignored the man as he tried to engage both of us in conversation. After a minute he left the car and I introduced myself to the girl as an American volunteer and English teacher. Her English was very good and we chatted until the man came back and tried to figure out what language we were speaking. He tried to sit next to me and I said no loudly and moved so there was not enough room. After that he left the car for good.

All this time, no one else in the packed train car did anything to acknowledge that the girl had been harassed or that I had stepped in. The girl was extremely grateful and I’m very glad to have met her. I hope if she finds herself in a similar situation again she has the courage to stop it and remove herself from it. The whole incident left a bad taste in my mouth and makes me worry about how common an occurrence this is, if no one else was willing to step in.

In the past two months I've been away from my site more than I've been home (which subsequent posts will illustrate). The end of school and lots of traveling this summer have made time fly by. I can't believe I have only one year left of my service. I'm still learning and experiencing new things. Right now I'm relaxing and enjoying a little down time before some more activities before the school year starts up. I'm excited to see all my students again and hear about their summers!

I have yet to fully acclimate to the Romanian system of knowing that everything has a way of working out. This mini-camp was a 3-day experimental exercise to test how kids (my students) would react to the types of activities we have planned for some week-long camps in the summer. The camps are being held in a little village, Agas, up the valley from my town. When another volunteer and her Romanian friend contacted me about approaching some of my students about a mini-camp, I immediately agreed, thinking about how fun summer camp seemed when I was a kid. Little did I realize how difficult it would be to encourage kids to attend the activities.

After two afternoons of team-building exercises and self-reflection, five students and I boarded the train early Saturday morning for the half-hour ride up the pretty countryside for a day of work on the farm where the camps will be located. A lovely breakfast spread was late out on our arrival and after enjoying some salata de vinete, snitel and juice (suc), we had a few warm up activities, including a water balloon toss. In keeping with our theme of working together in a rhythm, we worked in a team to paint fences, walls and doors as well as the pagoda that was being built especially for the camp. We were also able to create a dirt and stone path leading to the bridge that crossed the stream in the yard.

Spending a beautiful day out in the sun doing work in which you can see the outcomes of your effort, was almost as enjoyable as spending the day listening to and conversing with some of my teenage students. These kids amaze me every day. They are so full of life and energy and sometimes they have such insight that it reminds me that even from halfway across the world, we are not very different at all. I got to spend the past few days discussing books, music, television, family, self-image, teamwork, aspirations and goals with youth that come from such different life experience than I do. I hope they got as much as I did out of our mini-camp because they are truly what make my service worth every minute.

Excursion to Piatra Neamţ. May 4, 2011.

The first week of May, the high school where I teach hosted a group of students and teachers from all over Europe (Germany, Italy, Poland, Spain and France). I was lucky enough to go on a day-trip with the group over to the next county of Neamţ. We visited Cetatea Neamţului, an old citadel, an animal park and three beautiful monasteries. It was so cool to see a new part of Romania as well as watch teenagers from six different countries and cultures interact.

Gabi’s Wedding. May 7, 2011.

My friend and fellow teacher, Gabi, invited me to my first Romanian wedding. It was such an event! First, I went to Gabi’s apartment where everyone had gathered. Gabi looked beautiful and so happy. Then everyone went to the town hall (primaria) where the civil ceremony took place. Immediately following that was the religious ceremony at a church in town. The church ceremony was much more casual than American ceremonies. The priest along with the couple stood at a table at the head of the church and all the attendees stood along the sides of the church. Both the maid of honor and best man (Gabi’s sister and brother-in-law) and the couple’s sponsors (naşi) joined the couple at the table holding very large candles. The reception seemed to be the main wedding event. Starting at 8 pm, three courses of food, hours of dancing (both traditional Romanian dances and modern songs), culminating in cake and removing the veil (the Romanian equivalent of throwing the bouquet) around 4 am. It was such a fun night! Nothing like a Romanian wedding to help me integrate into my community.

Train to Miercurea Ciuc. May 21, 2011.

A fellow volunteers suggested we make the trek over the Carpathian Mountains to the Hungarian town of Miercurea Ciuc. A beautiful early morning train ride later, it was almost like we were in a different world, or at least a different country. We found a cute little tea shop and then wandered around the town’s ethnographic museum; complete with mummy exhibit! Though it was rainy, it was a beautiful spring day. We had a fun time exploring the paiţa (market) and some second hand stores while trying to find locals who spoke Romanian to give us directions. What a fun day!

My student, Flori’s, family was kind enough to invite me to their house in Apa Asau to celebrate a traditional Romanian Easter (Paste-Pah-shtay). They were extremely generous hosts as the four days I spent in the country with Flori and her family were filled with wonderful food and interesting experiences. On Friday evening I got to see where Flori’s family keeps their sheep in addition to watching the cows milked and chickens fed.

On Saturday, I chopped potatoes to make Salata de beuf and tried a piece of beef heart that was going to be added to the salad. Saturday at midnight is when the Romanian Orthodox church service is attended. Flori, her father and I went to the church and got candles to light for the service. The priest sang some hymns and said what I assume is a benediction while standing outside the church and then the entire congregation walks around the church. It was very interesting and I’m sure I looked a little concerned and very out of place.

Sunday morning, I was greeted with a hot cup of fresh milk and some cozonac (traditional Romanian sweet bread) made by Flori’s grandmother. When Flori and her brother woke up we washed our faces with water from a jug that had a traditional Romanian painted egg (red) and some change (bani) in it. It is for luck. Around 11, we had our big meal of the day, including beef stew, racituri (pieces of chicken in concealed pig jelly from the bones of the head of feet – sounds delicious I know), and grilled lamb.

Easter is a very important holiday in Romania and people also celebrate the two days after Easter Sunday, which led to more days off school! It was so wonderful to compare these traditions to my own and Flori’s family was also very interested in the differences between our two cultures.

Spring has finally arrived in the Trotuş Valley. Although it was snowing the week of “Mărţişor,” the Romanian spring holiday, a month later, I am now enjoying birds chirping and flowers blooming. Here in Comaneşti, March really did come in like a lion with the last snow fall of the season. March 1, or Mărţişor, celebrates the beginning of spring. Children bring good luck charms tied with red and white thread to the adults in their lives. As a teacher I received many charms from my students in all different shapes: snowdrops, clovers and chimneysweeps are all traditional symbols of luck. I also received a ladybug (buburuză) pin from the Assistant Director of the high school that I have been wearing on my jacket collar and have collected many compliments about.

A week later on March 8, we celebrated International Women’s Day. Again I received many flowers and small gifts from my students. We had a luncheon at the high school and I was able to practice my Romanian. At the end of the month, I took a weekend trip to Braşov. About three hours from here, Braşov is a popular tourist destination, touting Bran Castle as one of the real Dracula, Vlad Tepeş’, castles. I spent the weekend with two other volunteers at a youth hostel near the old city center. We visited the Black Church and wandered through the shops in this historic square. The days were warm and sunny, perfect for people watching and enjoying each other’s company. The hostel was a pleasant experience and we met some fellow travelers from Australia, Spain and the UK.

This past week has been full of new and exciting experiences. Last Friday, I was introduced to the town’s Habitat for Humanity organization by a fellow volunteer. My counterpart is a volunteer on the Board for the organization and is helping me become more involved. On Monday evening we were invited to have dinner with some Global Village volunteers who were here this week to work on a house. I was able to meet and get to know 11 students and two teachers from the American School of Dubai. They were all very excited to be here and very interested in volunteering. On Wednesday, I was able to meet with them again and even spend some time working on the house that Habitat is building in Moineşti, a neighboring town. I’m looking forward to working more closely with Habitat Comaneşti.

I had a surprising and eventful New Year. Three of my fellow volunteers descended on my small town for a few days of relaxation, great food and, what else, more Bear Dances. The "Revelion" tradition of the Bear Dance is localized in the Trotus Valley where I live. Only in this little section of Romanian does this reenactment of an ancient struggle between wild bears and the native Dacian population of the area.

Many young men dress in full bear skins, which I'm told are incredible heavy and difficult to maneuver in. Others dress as "gypsies" and others still wear scary masks to ward off evil spirits from entering the New Year. The human half of this dance is lead by a man dressed as a drum major leading the drummer in a distinct rhythm and chanting session. Dances go on for about 10 to 15 minutes, with all the participants constantly moving in an intricate back and forth between the "people" and the "bears." My town had a competition which included dances from many neighboring villages.

For New Year's Eve, my friends and I, went up to Bacau, the capitol of the county I live in. Three other volunteers live there and we had more delicious food (some wonderful curry dish and spanakopita) and a really great time.

Going back to school after having such a great holiday was difficult, but the kids definitely make it worth while. With the start of the New Year, I also started some new projects. After my first foray into assigning my high school students essays, I've decided that I'm going make that a reoccurring project for them. Similarly, I've started a more advanced writing workshop for some of them as well as an English Club that will meet once a week. I've also started an English Club at the middle school and am still trying to decide how large a group can feasibly attend.

These past couple weeks I've also gotten my first taste of Romanian grading. I've worked hard to mesh what I've learned of the Romanian system with what I think works from the American system I'm more familiar with. For example, Romanian students receive grades on a 1 to 10 scale so my students were surprised to receive zeros when they did not turn in their essays (their grades were subsequently changes after they did turn in the essays, though they were deducted for turning them in late.) Another difference is that Romanian grades are all written down in a "Catalogue." Each class of students has all their lessons together and all their grades go in the same book. It is intimidating to write my grades in the Catalogues because if I mess up I have to get my mistake signed and stamped by the Directoara (Principal) of the school.

This week is the end of my first semester as a teacher here in Comanesti. Next week we have our semester break and I'm going to Rome with three of my friends. I'm very excited and plan to eat wonderful food, see amazing things and have a great time with my friends.

Winter is here. It's been snowing on and off for weeks. All of December was cold and snowy until the week before Christmas (Craciun.) Last week was warm and all the snow (zapada) melted. Instead of a white Christmas, we had a slushy Christmas. This weekend was sunny and almost all the snow was gone when I got back to Comanesti yesterday. Today I woke up and the ground was white! It snowed all day and once again the town is quiet and peaceful, covered in a blanket of snow.

I spent Christmas in Onesti with Marta and Vicki. We had a quiet relaxing weekend. There is a tradition for carolers to go door-to-door singing traditional Romanian carols (colinde.) We had a wonderful dinner of squash and pasta and some sarmale from Vicki's counterpart. We exchanged small gifts and played a round or to of Bananagrams. It was nice to spend the holiday with some friends but it was a completely different experience from American Christmases.

With one more month of the first semester to go, I've gotten into a comfortable rhythm teaching at both of my schools. My middle school students are adorable and very eager to learn. My high school students are very intelligent and clever. Over the last few weeks there have been many Christmas celebrations. One of my 10th grade students has just published a book of poetry, so we had a small reception for her and I was gifted with a copy. I will sit down with my Romanian-English dictionary and read some of them.

The first week of December I spent in Sibiu. We had Peace Corps In-Service Training. All 41 volunteers from Group 27 met in Sibiu for a week of sessions on Romanian, programming and teaching. Vicki, Mil, Marta and I went to Sibiu a day early to be able to see the city and do some shopping. The city is adorable and the architecture is gorgeous. It was wonderful to see all my friends again and catch up. There was an area of the large market (Piata Mare) filled with a very large Christmas tree and little booths selling Christmas wares. We were able to find some nice restaurants and enjoy some vin fiert (mulled wine).

There was a "Carnival" celebration at the high school with different musical acts, culminated in a performance of the traditional bear (urs) dance of the region. There are larger examples of this for New Year's (Revelion) so I'm looking forward to that this weekend. Last week there were carol programs at the middle school and in each of my classes at the high school. I'm amazed at all the talented singers these schools have. I've been learning some of the Romanian carols such as "O ce veste minuata" and "Dum Dum sa-l nastum." They are wonderful.

Travel notes from a late August maxi-taxi ride:

We speed along a two-lane "highway" in southern Moldova and I'm greeted with extensive fields of corn, wheat and sunflowers, which were probably cheery a month ago but now their heads are drooping, exhausted from the summer heat. I could be traveling through the farmland of southern Delaware on my way to my grandmother's house if not for the occasional one room churches of strictly Orthodox architecture.

I pass alternating patches of green with occasional flocks of grazing cows, sheep or goats of various colors. Some fields are chopped up mud, already prepared for fall. Perhaps crops were lost and the land ravaged by the devastating floods or "inundatie" of early summer. We slow as we pass through small villages and hamlets; the only things to break the flat roaming farmland that stretches to where the Carpathian Mountains meet the western sky.

The second half of PST flew by. I spent a lot of time with the friends I made and probably not enough time studying. Speaking is getting easier – though now that I’m at sight, I find it more difficult because I’m shy when I’m getting to know people. Hopefully I won’t lose too many of my language skills in these next few weeks.

After finding out the location of my site and meeting my counterparts, Carmen and Laura, I was excited to visit the town I’ll be living in for the next two years. The first day, we left early and visited Peles Castle. It was inhabited by King Carol and Queen Elizabeth early in the 20th century and it was a real treat to see the rooms inspired by different nations. My favorite room was the music room with Greek mythological characters painted on the walls followed closely by the library, complete with secret passage. On my site visit, I celebrated my 23rd birthday. I got to meet some British students who were on a summer trip here to work with Rroma and disabled youth. They do this every year, which I find admirable. I also got to see the city and had lunch at the deputy-director of the high school’s house. Everyone is so friendly and generous. Even though she had never met me, Doamna Stoica presented me with a wallet for my birthday. I look forward to working with her at the high school. I also got to visit a nearby resort town, Slanic Moldova, where it is said, if you drink from the (slightly sulfuric) water, your ills will be cured. It was a very quaint and picturesque site.

The two weeks back in our training city were quite hectic. We wanted to spend as much time with our American friends as possible before we all departed for our sites. One weekend there was a beer festival going on, complete with concerts and mici. Saturday we celebrated my birthday and that of another volunteer and one of my close friends, Annie. Sunday, some of my friends came over and we made some American comfort food: mac ‘n cheese. The next weekend we went camping again. This time 5 more volunteers joined us. I only went Saturday night because I was sick all day Friday (and had a practice speaking exam). It was fun, but since I was still sick, I didn’t have as much fun as I would have otherwise (especially when I was trying to sleep and people were singing at 4 in the morning).

The last week of training was extremely full of things to do. All we really wanted to do was study for our language exams but the professors tried to keep us entertained and engaged. Luckily, my exam was on Wednesday, so I was able to get it over with early, but on Tuesday my gazda invited some of my friends over for pizza, which put a dent in my study time. It didn’t affect my score though and it was fun. Thursday night, Katie slept over so we could get ready together to go to Bucuresti on Friday for swear-in. We were sworn-in at the Ambassador’s home, which was a very special experience. This was the first year that it took place there. The house and property are beautiful and the Ambassador and his wife are very gracious. The food was delicious and reminded us of the States! Friday night, one of the volunteers, Megan, had a party at her gazda. It was a wonderful last hoorah for all of us. We had a wonderful time celebrating.

Saturday and Sunday were spent packing and spending time with friends as people slowing trickled to their sites. We sent Katie and Ryan off Sunday evening and the rest of us left Monday. I took a maxi-taxi with Marta on Monday and Carmen picked me up from the station with all my bags. Since I’ve been at site, I’ve been settling in and meeting people. On Tuesday, I bought some kitchenware and made chicken ciorba (traditional sour soup) with Carmen. On Wednesday, I met Gabi and Marlena, some younger teachers at the high school. On Thursday, I went to the swimming pool with Gabi, Marlena and another teacher, Antonia. It was a lot of fun.

On Friday, Gabi and I hiked up into the hills surrounding the town. It is unbelievably gorgeous here! On Sunday, Carmen and I went to a barbecue with the director of School No. 7. He and his family are wonderful and his daughter is a senior at the high school and will probably become one of my good friends. I’ve already met some wonderful people and I’ve been here less than a week!

Sorry I've been M.I.A. for the past couple weeks. Between learning Romanian, planning lessons and actually teaching children, I did not have the time nor energy to write. However, tomorrow is a big day in my Peace Corps journey. I find out where my site will be for the next two years. Tomorrow I will learn which community I will integrate into and call my home.

Therefore, I decided today would be a good time to reflect on my experience in Romania thus far. I have learned so much about the culture, the people and about myself in the last month and a half. People here continue to surprise me. I have been welcomed into a home and am treated as a daughter. The host families of my friends here have also welcomed many of us into their homes to share meals. The hospitality here constantly astounds me.

I am already experiences bittersweet feelings as the end of training looms. In a little over 4 weeks, my group will swear-in as Volunteers in Bucuresti and truly begin our service. I am looking forward to settling into my new site, but I am wary of no longer having the safety net of 43 other Americans. I have met some extremely intelligent and courageous people and made some wonderful new friends.

Since landing in Bucuresti, I've learned that I can, in fact, teach children English and I can communicate with someone without sharing a common language. I think the most important lesson I've learned so far is that it really isn't as scary to put yourself out there. You can't get anything you want unless you are willing to fall trying to get it. This experience is forcing me to push myself in ways I certainly didn't expect it to. Some things I thought would be difficult have been relatively painless so far. Other things surprise me in how I am affected by them. I am so grateful for every experience I've had and I hope to keep growing as this journey continues.

My morning began with my gazda mom asking me why I don't wear tight dresses. I had no answer for this.

This week I'm teaching a class of 5th graders with two of my friends, Sara and Freya. The school morning started with about 60 students and their concerned parents swarming into our classroom. We only had 30 desks and chairs so we had to send half the students home.

After the ruckus settled down, we were able to have a successful intro day. We spent the day doing activities to gauge the students' language levels.

I didn't know what to expect going into my first experience teaching young children. I enjoyed myself much more than I thought I was going to. The children were adorable and so curious and willing to learn. Even the students that did not have many language skills seemed to enjoy the activities. I hope the remainder of the week goes as smoothly.

Over dinner, my gazda mom and I had an hour long conversation (in Romanian mind you) about whether I will get married in Romania in the next two years. Then she proceeded to tell me that I need to marry a man who is clever and intelligent. When I suggested funny, she said no, a man who is serious. I'm not sure if that was a translation problem or a cultural difference. Now I think that maybe she was giving me a hint about my dresses this morning.

Until now we have not been permitted to leave the county. This weekend each language class went on an Integrated Field Visit to the sites of current volunteers to gain a better understanding of what we should expect during our two years of service. My group and another language class went to a small mining town in the mountains of southern Transylvania.

My class took a “tren accelerat” to Bucureşti and walked around a gorgeous park with a giant outcropping of rock and beautiful gardens. We even picked some fruit from a Mulberry tree! We also got to see the Peoples’ Palace, built by Ceauşescu in 1983. This inspired another “I can’t believe I’m sitting on a lawn in Europe” moment.

We met up with the other language class to take a maxi-taxi to our destination. After fighting a lady for seats on the maxi-taxi, we rode about 60 kilometers out of Bucureşti before the maxi-taxi broke down. After waiting for a bus, switching to another maxi-taxi, playing rounds of 20 questions and weaving through a steep gorge, we arrived around 10:30 and were greeted by Joel, Andrew and some of their Romanian friends.

On Sunday, we went for a hike to a cabin in the mountains near the town. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so many insect bites in my life! The scenery was beautiful though and we had a fabulous time. At the cabin we got to meet some of Joel and Andres’s co-workers and community mentors. Everyone was extremely friendly and hospitable. They prepared what can only be called a feast for us with, as you can imagine, multiple types of meat, salad and bread. The highlight was pig back fat (slănină) which I tried, but I must say that I probably will not eat it again. We spent the entire day playing Frisbee and talking and learning from these amazing people. We also got to practice our Romanian!

Joel’s community mentor, Ledi, was the most memorable person I met this weekend. She has been extremely sick these past two years but she has still helped Joel integrate into the community; he is truly a part of her family. She is a very funny and loving woman who especially loves to give hugs and gain promises from us that we will return. Joel said that he eats dinner with her and her family at least once a week. One of my main goals during my service is to forge relationships like that with members of my community.

We got to visit Joel’s school on Monday. We met a few of his more skilled 7th and 8th grade students and walked around the town with some of them. We saw the coal mine where the majority of people in the town work. After communism fell, unemployment rose to almost 70% because so many people were employed by the mines. The students were extremely well-spoken, intelligent and genuinely interested in speaking to native English-speakers. Monday evening we had dinner with Andrew, his community mentor, Ernest, and Ledi. It was exciting to hear stories and learn more about Romanian culture. It was a wonderful experience to see how well Joel and Andrew have become part of their communities and successful volunteers.

Tuesday, we spent the entire day travelling. Our bus left late because the valley was closed and then it was slow and overcrowded, but that is just par for the course with Romanian transportation. Our bus got into Bucureşti late and we had to run through a downpour to make the last maxi-taxi of the day. We arrived home around 10:30 thoroughly exhausted.

I spent most of today studying Romanian. When I stop to think about it, the creation and spread of different languages is an extremely interesting phenomenon. The ability to communicate with a vast vocabulary and complex sentence structure is something uniquely human. Two people look at an object or contemplate a concept and think of a word that was assigned to that object or concept thousands of years ago.

It is also amazing how much we can communicate with very little shared communication. My gazda and I can have relatively complex and intelligent conversations using my broken Romanian and their smattering of English words. Though trying to explain concepts of early American history in Romanian to a Romanian is not really something a beginner in the language should attempt.

In the two weeks I’ve lived with my gazda I’ve also come to greatly appreciate the universal language of music. Most of the music they listen to in Romania is the western based popular artists that we know in the US – they really love Rihanna and Lady Gaga. Even most Romanian music artists sing in English – though I’m not sure if they know the language or not. I’ve been enjoying getting to know some Romanian artists and their songs as well as some Romanian “Popular” (traditional) music.

This weekend I went with my gazda parents to the country house where my gazda dad’s parents live. The most significant thing I noticed was the continuity with which they live inside and outside of the house. The stove (aragoz) was in something akin to a screened-in porch, but all the dishwashing was done in bowls outside on a table using boiled well water. I could say that life on a family farm seems simpler, but it is a lot of work. I was incredibly impressed by my 80 year old gazda grandmother (bunică) killing chickens, chasing the dog and pumping water from the well, while still having time to cook meals. My gazda mom was extremely busy the entire weekend as well. There was always something to do and when I tried to help, I was told I was the daughter (frată) and therefore should read the book I was told to bring - I read about 3/4 of it.

I did get to help feed the pigs and chickens - which just comprised of throwing the left over food into the pens - and was barked at a lot by their giant dog – Motu, who really looked more like a lion. They also have a large vegetable garden where they grow their own onions, tomatoes, dill, cucumbers and spinach. They are incredibly self-sufficient. My gazda dad is a beekeeper - or as his nephew put it, he likes to play around with BEES!! - Which proved to be dangerous because on Sunday my gazda bunică was stung three times!

My gazda grandfather (bunic) is wheelchair-bound, so we amused ourselves by him asking me if there are bugs and crows in America. His favorite pastime was pointing at an object and saying the Romanian word, which I would repeat and then say the English word. Did he have any interest in saying the English word? No, I suspect he was just checking to make sure the object did, in fact, exist in the English speaking world.

Another exciting "new" experience was taking a shower that did not involve buckets of water – though it was my first adventure with putting wood in a furnace to heat the water. I don’t think anyone even wants to hear about the toilet situation, so I'll leave it at that. Just another Peace Corps thing I’ll have to get used to.

On Sunday morning (dimineaţă)I accompanied my gazda mom to the cemetery to put flowers and candles at her parents' graves. While there, I had the chance to observe two widows singing what I assume to be an Orthodox mourning hymn. The experience made me both curious and uncomfortable.

This morning I got to observe the English teaching methods of two elementary school English teachers. Everyone in Romania is extremely generous - the two teachers even made breakfast pastries and coffee for us. The 5th and 6th grade children were very energetic to learn - the 5th grade class even asked for out autographs! Last Friday, we got to observe a couple high school classes and it may not be surprising that the high schoolers were much more shy about speaking in front of guests. The smaller children were adorable and since I may be teaching students from 5th grade to high school, it is good to observe a variety of possible teaching tricks - since that is still what I'm most concerned about developing during Pre-Service Training (PST).

The Romanian word for mirror is oglindă. For some reason, my love of musicals makes me want to call it galinda. After my first few dyslexic attempts, I finally tried to explain The Wizard of Oz to my gazda mom. This task proved to be somewhere between highly unlikely and impossible. My gazda mom’s issues with the “galinda” concept: 1) Witchcraft, in all forms is bad, and intelligent educated people do not believe in it. 2) “In Romania” there is no such thing as a good witch; therefore Glinda could not have been a good witch. 3) There is no good reason to make a film about witchcraft; therefore The Wizard of Oz must not be a good film. After assuring my gazda mom that I did not, in fact, believe in witchcraft, I dropped the subject and was content watching the Eurovision contest. (I decided it would be a really bad idea to bring up the flying monkeys).

This week I started learning Romanian. I’ve always been somewhat of a language dork but I’m already enjoying more (and doing significantly better) than my foray into Chinese a few years ago. The way Peace Corps teaches language is through conversation. Our teachers, who are all extremely talented and knowledgeable Romanian natives, do not use any English to teach our lessons. We learn through pictures, activities and exaggerated pantomime. A lot of their lessons will be useful when I’m planning my own lessons for next year. I even enjoy the homework, even if I haven’t done a worksheet since high school. Today we learned some classroom words like chair (scoun) and paper (hârtie). The most entertaining moment was when another volunteer said she remembers thank you (cu plăcere) as “cup of cherries.”

Obviously, I’m having a lot of fun learning the language. I’m more concerned with the actual teaching component of this whole situation. There are a lot of volunteers that have experience teaching, and even experience teaching English as a foreign for second language. I’m not sure how my tutoring skills with help me with this, but the Peace Corps seems well equipped to prepare well, as long as I take initiative.

Every time I shower in Romania I get better at actually washing all the shampoo out of my hair. Bathing requires my gazda mom to boil pots of water to put in a bowl in the bathroom. Then I stand in the tub and use a large plastic mug to wash. Needless to say, my hair has looked relatively greasy the past few days. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. I have absolutely no problem bathing this way (although I’m not sure how the boiled water stays so scalding hot for so long). I’m thinking of this as practice for next winter when the water turns freezing right after I take it off the stove.

Saturday morning, the Peace Corps staff put out place cards at tables in a speed dating-type set-up. All the volunteers waited anxiously with our odd-numbered bouquets (even numbers are reserved for funerals). I met my gazda mom, Florentina, and a sudden downpour required us to take a taxi; my two enormous suitcases in tow. For the next eleven weeks, I will be living in an apartment with her and her husband. She is a very sweet lady and is just as excited to be learning some English as she is to help me learn Romanian. We spent a few hours flipping through English/Romanian dictionaries and pointing to objects around the house (casă). I got to practice my Romanian some more by insisting that I was indeed full (m-am săturat) thank you (mulţumesc) after she adamantly served me a large meal only a few hours after the insanely large lunch at the hotel. (I have yet to have a meal in Romania that did not have at least two servings of meat).

Today, Florentina and I walked around the city and she showed me how to get to school tomorrow. We walked through the market (piaţă) at the center of town. Small town markets with stalls of fresh produce, meat and bread is so indicative of the differences between many European towns and most of the United States. I’m excited to go back and explore the market more once my Romanian is better and I’ve learned how to barter. Florentina was excited to explain her “American volunteer” to anyone who questioned my presence.

We walked through the center of town, passing many Orthodox churches (bisericăs) and a monastery. Florentina also showed me the town park with a lake full of frogs (broascăs) and statues of Romanian kings.

My geeky-ness (or twmp-ness, if you will) is coming out, but I'm really excited to start language training tomorrow. Most of the time, I can figure out from context what people are trying to tell me, but I can’t wait to be able to communicate without using a lot of hand motions.

The view from my bedroom window is really gorgeous; you can see beyond the apartment buildings to the hills on the edge of town. As you can see, România becomes beautiful countryside very quickly when you leave town.

One of the most prominent themes in life is change. Change is what makes stories interesting; what makes them, and people’s lives for that matter, dynamic. Although a flight from Chicago to Bucharest (via Frankfort) marks the beginning of a vastly different two-year period in my life, it is not the beginning of my story. It is a change, a major change; in the direction my life is taking. Much change is unexpected, which makes it hard to deal with and react to. But big changes like moving half way around the world to a less-developed country that speaks a completely foreign language are not unexpected.

I’ve been planning and preparing for this major change for nine months, yet I still feel woefully unprepared and a bit apprehensive. I know that my eleven weeks of training will prepare me adequately for assimilating to Romanian culture and teaching English to Romanian children. But even with those assurances in mind, I have yet to really wrap my head around the fact that I am actually, finally in Romania, and will be living here for the next two years.

Luckily, there are 44 other people who are in the exact same boat as I am. We are already on our way to forming a Peace Corps Romania family. I have met quite a few interested (yet intimidating) people. The diversity of our group will be an asset during our training process and beyond into our service.

After a long day and a half of travel, I had some time to explore a few blocks around the hotel. I’ve already experienced the wild dogs that roam the city streets, the adorable park complete with bronze statues of Romanian kings and teenage couples in skinny jeans eating ice cream, and Romanian children who descended upon us “American tourists” asking for money as soon as they saw us. I EXPECT to see all these occurrences again, and many other UNEXPECTED experiences along the way.

I'm enjoying my last night at home with some friends. I fly to Chicago tomorrow for Staging and then fly to Bucharest on Wednesday. I will be trying to update this blog with interesting experiences I'm having and people I'm meeting. So please stay tuned!