He's My Witness

If there was any lurking possibility that I would feel compelled to take in a stray animal, this past week has sealed that door FOREVER. I had the glorious experience of watching my sitemate’s dog, who was conveniently neutered a few days prior to my start date. When I first went to get the dog it was dressed in a black toga to cover the wound. Now…the idea of walking a dog, not to mention on a leash, is quite a novel idea in these parts, so the fact that I was walking a dog dressed for Caesar’s reincarnation ball did not go under Campulung’s Foreigner Radar. Secondly, since this so called dog walking business is relatively new, you can bet there is no Scoop the Poop Law, regulation nor rule of thumb. Besides, there’s already enough other animal shit on the ground that it really makes no difference. So envision walking down the populated “sidewalk” and your dog stops to relieve himself right in the middle of it all. You awkwardly await as others pass by, the dog finishes, you shrug your shoulders and continue on your way. Yeah, didn’t feel quite right to me either. Nevertheless, I finally got to contribute to the filth of the streets…well, not directly. Lastly, in a town heavily populated with stray dogs you are generally left in quite a vulnerable state having the only leashed dog in hand. Fact: Leashed dog inevitably equals dog gang advancements. It’s a wonderment that I haven’t lost a phalange. One late night walk I was fortunate to have someone come with me for things could have gone terribly awry. We heard a harsh, potentially destructive bark closing in on us and of course a few furry friends ensued. I quickly commanded a rock pick up but to our dismay, they were all frozen to the ground. As the dogs pressed on, we frantically searched the rough terrain also known as a sidewalk for lose rocks or anything really…of course the one time I could have used one of those abandoned shoes, there were none to be found. Perseverance was our savior. We made it back safely but not without several abnormally large rocks in hand. Another evening, I had the pleasure of meeting the vet on the street so he could check the dog’s lady bits. There was a need for some medication, so right there on the side of the street the vet gave the dog a shot. Honestly, I’m concerned that when I return in two years I will have no recollection of how to behave in the streets of Minnesota.

At any rate, Thanksgiving was surprisingly a great success. I believe there were approximately 16 Peace Corps Volunteers, 5 Romanians and 2 Turkeys, which we had to get from the closest big city two hours away. Regardless of my lack of kitchen utensils, seating arrangements and heat, things were extremely enjoyable. I didn’t even run out of gas for my stove until the following day. The food was delicious and often inventive. The Romanians in attendance were surprised by how good the turkey tasted, a few had never eaten it before. Friday we frolicked through Campulung (of course the wooden spoon museum was closed) and went sledding. In attempt to buy a sled, we were told that we would have to go to Suceava, same place we got the turkeys. Consequently, my blow up raft (originally attended for the Moldova River), a cardboard box, 2 plastic bags and a plastic laundry tub served as our sleds. Our success…well, that’s all in the eye of the beholder. We got a few good runs in but the rocks really tore us a new one. Oh yeah, the blow up raft was not inflated. The week before, my sitemate and I took it for its maiden voyage down my road. It popped the second time down but not before an extremely old man approached us to inform us that the raft was intended for water.

On a side note, on Friday we brought a bunch of our garbage to the dumpsters behind a Bloc and within five minutes, no lie, the turkey carcass had been found and set aside to be brought home. Life is intriguing.

On Saturday we had several departures and new arrivals so we did Thanksgiving again. You can’t ever have too many Thanksgivings. This time it was hosted at my sitemate’s Bloc, so on the way over we stopped at the piata to buy some homemade wine. It was later in the day and almost everyone had left. The people we asked did not have anymore wine at their stand but told us to jump in their car and we’d go get some. The three of us hopped in and a few minutes later we arrived behind the man’s Bloc. His truck was there and in the back he had 2 large barrels of wine. Unfortunately he did not have a cap for his reused plastic bottle so we got to walk through town with a large open jug of wine.

On Sunday, eight of us headed to Vatra Dornei to check out the skiing scene. Obviously the bus schedule had changed so we were stranded in Campulung. Two friendly guys passing by offered to take us part of the way but ended up taking us the entire way because we were so much fun. The (yes THE) ski slope wasn’t quite what one would envision for a mountainous area. Nonetheless, it was a fabulous time and far cheaper than we expected. It cost 5 RON per hour to rent equipment, so I paid approximately 5 American Dollars to ski for 3 hours. The equipment was pretty amazing and often felt as if I were skiing on 2x4’s. The T-bar was a thrill a minute, probably more of a work out than anything else that day. We probably had at least one man down each round up, which immediately results in two down. Instead of paying for a daily lift ticket, you pay for each time you go up, so you can bet we figured out how to get back on that devil t-bar.

Once December came, Campulung Moldovenesc put up a giant Christmas tree on the Plateau and put up lights on the main street, giving it that small town feel. It is quite pretty; we just need our snow to come back now. It really has not felt like Christmas but my sitemates and I have been doing our best to get into the spirit. We made a wreath out of real evergreen branches that we conveniently found for free. I tell you, some of the things I find myself doing here have never even crossed my mind before and now they just tickle me pink. One slow afternoon I made some cookies with intentions of bringing some over to the neighbor, who previously that week said I was Anglo Saxon and distant compared to the previous volunteer I replaced, who was Latino and friendly (but technically, in real life, she isn’t Latino.) Either way, I was I feeling a bit homesick and ate them all. Better luck next time. Last weekend, I was mourning missing out on Ugly Christmas Sweater parties and realized I would not be attending any holiday parties this year, so I had a Mexican Christmas party with two sitemates. I had obtained some Mexican ingredients from the good ole U.S. of A and we found the ever coveted avocados for Guacamole. Although it was Mexican with a Romanian flair, it was the best thing that I had ingested in months. Speaking of which, I think I have now officially eaten all parts of a pig. The brain done up like a snitel actually was not too terrible.

I’m not sure how but I believe that I have failed to mention that my Romanian tutor is a Jehovah Witness. Not that it’s a big deal but rather interesting, as I did not imagine encountering that religious sector here. There is never any pressure of conversion or religion in general, which is appreciated. However, we do practice my reading comprehension from a Jehovah Witness magazine, which is somewhat interesting but also causes my vocabulary to be very subject specific. All along I have joked (with myself of course) that when I get my language skills tested again that they’ll be like, “well, quite frankly we don’t know how you get through daily life but you do have a strange knack for discussing Jehovah Witnesses.” Low and behold, “I be up in the gym working on my fitness…he’s my witness;” working with the Witness allowed me a triumph in the daily life. One of the several times I went to the train station over Thanksgiving weekend I met Tico, a Jehovah Witness, who apparently does his recruiting at the Gara. Unfortunately, Megan and I had a good twenty minutes before her train arrived, so Tico engaged in heavy conversation. He expressed that he just loves Americans and proceeded to take out his bible to point out all the places it discusses Jehovah Witnesses followed by, “Intersant, nu?” Tico attempted to give us reading materials but I let him know who my tutor was and assured him that I already had the materials. In fact, Tico didn’t even have the most recent issue…I let him know he would just love the newest one. Megan was a bit baffled as to why I knew what this man had been saying (and truth be told, so was I) but I let her know I had the inside connections…He’s my Witness….whooooh!