Înghețat but Thawed by the Serenading Sheep

Although I found frost in my bathroom and couldn’t seem to get warm anywhere I went, today was definitely one of the better days I’ve had in a while. Lots of new and “only in Romania” moments that reminded me of why I stayed.

Since there isn’t any heat in the old house where my organization rents a room it had completely frozen over by the time participants had come for cenaclu, the literary club. Only those who came in from the villages opted to stay and much to my surprise for the entire 2 hours. So there the 6 of us sat fully dressed head to toe, not staying anywhere near warm but having a grand time. One of my favorite ladies, Steluța, was wearing a giant coat made from an animal – perhaps even two. She kept saying, “I’m not cold, I’ve got this little sheep keeping me warm!” and then proceeded to sing traditional Romanian folk songs the entire time. If you could only see this lady in action, you too, would be grinning from ear to ear! I found a jug of water in the protection of a cupboard so it wasn’t frozen solid. We opted to make some coffee and since no one else had ever used a coffee maker with a filter before…I got voted most likely to know what to do. For the record, I never really made coffee until I came here and even now it has never been with a filter. Anywho, I gave it a whirl, adding the slushy (ice chunky) water into the apparatus. It eventually came out hot but they all asked if I had made tea. Apparently we Americans drink our coffee entirely too weak. More than anything, I was impressed by their enthusiasm to simply be there together despite the circumstances.

While the day progressed, only my heart continued to thaw out as I made my rounds to my tutor, running into little Amelia and her mother who I had recently met and were full of nothing but kind words, spending some time with a good friend’s family, having an English lesson with my neighbor girl and finally over to my landlords, who always insist I come in for at least 1 glass of țuica. For the first time, it felt like home everywhere I went. Days like this, even just the individual moments are what I’m going to miss. When I left home it was difficult but I knew I’d be coming back; but this time around, I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the opportunity to return.

Ode To My Soba

“I was still cold: not the pleasant, temporary cold of the West, where you get warm as soon as going indoors; but the grinding, continuous cold of Eastern Europe, where your stomach and ribs ache from clenching your muscles for hours on end, bent over, trying to keep warm.”
– Robert Kaplan, Balkan Ghosts

I stand corrected; this has been the coldest week of the winter. Although my entire life has been filled with far more frigid winters in the Land of 10,000 Lakes the cold I experience here is on an entirely different plane. Until now, I’ve never had the good fortune of being able to walk to all my daily destinations. It makes for a less stressful commute, not to mention having to worry on those cold mornings whether or not the car is going to start or if all the doors are going to be frozen shut so you have to climb in through the miniature hatchback window. Back at home, I never had the luxury of a garage but even so, once I got all those car windows scraped I could get out of the biting nip and sip my hot coffee while I waited (or most likely didn’t) for all the windows to defrost before heading out. After finally arriving at work, school, the mall or anywhere really…I could best be assured that I would be greeted by a ridiculously overheated building (unless of course it was my father’s home). So really, winter boots, big jackets, snow pants and long underwear were reserved for outdoor activities and well, quite frankly, old folks. However, I now bear all just to go into my bathroom. After a brisk walk to the foundation or school, one is not necessarily welcomed by a great sense of warmth (in terms of temperature); and it’s not uncommon for people to keep their winter gear on inside throughout the day. Yet, I don’t have any complaints because this is what I have been waiting for…the frosted trees that are absolutely breathtaking and the squeaking snow under my footsteps. Perhaps I’m still cold but quite content.

Even though I struggled with my soba (mostly on account of wet wood) my first winter, and slowly accepted the early onset rheumatism the continuous cold brought, I fell in love with the ceramic tower. The adoration has only grown now that I have mastered the ole girl (AKA I have dry wood). Except on the days with Sub-Siberian temps, the clenching muscles are now set aside for shower days, however sparse they may be. But even then, I have my soba awaiting with warm socks and undies!

Okay, it’s true. I really did try to write an actual Ode to My Soba but it was beyond lame and I will not display it to the world…I frown upon my lack of creativity.

Looking Back...

Coming up on the two year mark, it’s hard to imagine that I only have 3 months left. Given I have not been back to the Motherland since I left two years ago, I am ecstatic to go home. If it weren’t for that one key factor (never going home), I truly believe it would be beyond difficult to leave. As I’ve mentioned several times before, I like life here. I have made new friends, new hobbies…essentially, a new life. Regardless of any frustrations and negative aspects…even if had all been negative, it would still be hard to leave because nevertheless, this has been my life and let’s be honest…change is hard.

I’m sure I’ll have many more reflections to come before I leave but looking back, I started to think about all the opportunities that I have encountered. So far… in 2 years I have:

*Fallen in 0 holes in the streets of Cȃmpulung

*Pooped my pants Once

*Received 1 dog nip

*Found a cat in my house Twice

*Gone through 2 pairs of Yak Tracks

*Probably eaten 3 pigs entirely on my own

*Slipped on ice numerous times but have only fallen 4 (first into a giant puddle of slush, second carrying my wood, third trying to rapidly sprint up my front steps & lastly, trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue)

*Owned 5 pairs of long underwear

*Hosted 7 visitors from home in four rounds (Megan, Mom & Dad, Missy & Brittany, Meghan & Lindsay)

*Studied 8 Jehovah Witness magazines in Romanian

*Hitch hiked on 9 encounters

*Used 10 cubic meters of fire wood

*Been to 11 Countries (Romania, Ireland, Hungry, Poland, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Albania, Greece, Austria, Germany and Turkey)

*Had at least 12 successful sewing encounters (zipper replacement, crotch patch, slipper repairs, hemmed pants, duvet cover fixing & holy socks)

*Drunk approximately 18 liters of homemade booze (țuica, afinata, palinka, vin, etc.) but lets be honest…it was probably more

*Finished reading 19 books (that I can remember) and quit 2 (A Thousand Splendid Suns, Living Poor: A Peace Corps Chronicle, Middlesex, Breakfast of Champions, Bury Me Standing, Atrocity at Auschwitz, Santa Cruise, Night, 19 Minutes, Balkan Ghosts, Dracula, The Painted Vail, some Bulgarian spy book, 112 pages of War and Peace, Siddhartha, Pillars of the Earth, Innocent Traitor)

*Listened to 20 “This American Life” Podcasts

*Taken 21 four hour round trips on Maxi Taxis to Suceava for packages

*Posted 55 Blog Entries

*Slurped 99 bowls of Ciorba Radauțeana

*Maybe (keyword being maybe) taken 336 showers

*Spent Hundreds of hours on trains

*Used Thousands of matches

*Experienced ∞ awkward moments

Dear Mr. Pandemonium,

Did you soak my clothing in Cat Nip or perhaps something that only the canine nose can detect? All week they have been barking aggressively and coming at me as if I were Cruela Devil…and I’m not even the one dressed head to toe in fur winter gear. I clearly stand out walking through town in my non-fur snowsuit, which I like to refer to as my shark suit…if only I had chain mail armor…they’d never get to me then. Being this has been the coldest week of the winter, why aren’t all the dogs hiding in cardboard boxes somewhere? Is it necessary that they alert all the dogs within a ½ mile radius (or at least as far as I can hear) that I’m coming?

Other than the distressing dog situation, which I thought I finally had under control after 2 years, I’ve enjoyed seeing the new oddities that a change in weather brings. Not only did I thoroughly enjoy watching a young boy ice skate down the street but I was highly entertained by his tactics of getting safely around the particular dog he was afraid of (ok, maybe I do have a little Cruela in me). One night I enviously observed two guys being towed on downhill skis behind a car on the road. It reminded me of all the fun we had up at the cabin, skiing, snowboarding and tobogganing behind the snowmobile. That old Yamaha is so old and cumbersome that it’s probably the same size as the Dacia that was pulling those two skiers, and not to mention, smell the same. Why does the car exhaust here smell like that of snowmobiles and boats? I have honestly pondered that from Day 1 in Romania, so I’m open to suggestions. Also, as I alluded to before… the Fur Mania. Walking down the street of Cȃmpulung, I honestly thought I was walking amongst a herd of sheep protected by wolves or whatever else it is they de-fur. I think I just might have to invest in one of those big hats…they crack my shit up! And I swear on God’s green earth, my bathroom was so cold that I observed for the first time in my life a real live Cleveland Steamer.

Sincerely,

The Dog Whisperer

Today's Thoughts

As soon as I sense that a Case of the Blues is about to settle in, I tend to panic but yet…I welcome it. In fact, I embrace the opportunity for there’s a sense of comfort or more so a familiarity, it’s like returning home. As anyone who is in tuned to their own mental health, I can recognize the signs, I know what’s coming, I know what helps and I know what makes it worse…yet, I go for the worse. I always think just for a couple of days. For some reason, I find it refreshing, which in my mind leads to rejuvenation…but I suppose that’s when it really does only last a few days.

I have always enjoyed some good alone time. Some people re-energize by being around other people, some with Red Bull and others, like myself, by spending some quality me time. However, I do enjoy being around people but (perhaps deep down I am a bit narcissistic) because there are few people that I truly enjoy being with more than myself.

In spending time alone, really alone, there is a great relief that comes over my entire body, mind and soul – only then, am I truly relaxed. It’s just me. It’s okay if I don’t have anything to say…it’s okay if I don’t want to do anything …it’s okay to be me.

Prior to joining the Peace Corps, I equated my extended periods of alone time with depression and sadness, but now, although there may be a fine hint of moroseness that only isolation can bring, I find them to be periods of re-growth. By simply being a foreigner, there is an inevitable deep isolation. Although you may be surrounded by people, some who have even befriended you, you feel isolated. Not only is there a language barrier, but there’s a cultural barrier, a hobbies barrier, a behavior barrier and even a humor barrier. Everything is different. No matter how many barriers can be broken there is still a missing link. For some reason, you just can’t find the connection that you can make with someone from home. Although, the fact that everything is different is why I’m here and have loved my time here and maybe even flourished, it makes for a lot of hard work. In fact, it is exhausting. So, while I often feel isolated, it is a real treat to even further isolate myself. In the safety of my own Bouse or on the endless hiking trails of Bucovina, I can always understand what I’m saying, I can laugh at my jokes, I can work with efficiency, I can do the familiar. Not only does it rest my mind from incoming “bombs” but I can find myself again…who I really am.

I never realized how important that “home” connection was or that it even existed until I would stay at site for a long period of time and then go elsewhere to be with other volunteers. I simply light up and consciously feel myself become more animated and talkative. It was a sensation I had never experienced before. During, I remember feeling wonderful but didn’t put 2 and 2 together, and after separating, I would immediately return to this isolated individual…and that’s when I would recognize what this phenomenon was. So despite my need for personal isolation, I have now recognized not only my need but also my great appreciation for a cultural connection and social inclusion.

Revelion

Some of the best things in life are the unexpected. During my time in Romania, I have learned how to throw plans out the window and fly by the seat of my pants. Being unprepared does not settle well with me for I do not excel when put on the spot. But at some point, I had to realize that you can't always be prepared for life...there's always going to be that element of surprise. Awkwardness will always prevail so you might as well embrace it whole heartedly.

New Year's Eve has always been one of those holidays that in my mind needs to be a big bang; but the harder you plan for this the more disappointing it turns out to be. There indeed have been some memorable years; spending the night at a hotel with cousins, a skiing trip with the family and a gong show at the cabin with friends. However, this year I didn't get overly jacked up nor make any plans...yet...it turned out to be one of my favorites. It went a little something like this...

After a lazy morning of cafea and cozonac with an older lady friend (a visiting PCV), we decided to take advantage of the nice spring day that December 31st brought. We met up with a fellow Campulungian and set out for the big hike. On our way to the Rock, we stalked some local loggers (exhibited above). The winds were streamline and definitely Curent inducing but amazingly we survived.




Obviously a celebration was in store, so we met another volunteer and her visiting brother at my favorite little cabana Istrate for some vin fiert and a little impromptu Popular dancing.







As dusk set in, we headed back to the Bouse and caught sight of the Blue Moon.





We ran into some serious mud problems on the slippery slope down my lane.

Arriving home in our intergalactic mud boots and 20 lbs heavier... de-mudding, fac'ing foc and holiday cheer were in need.


Our invigorating conversation whipped up an immense appetite and my Betty Crocker talents landed us at New Look for the infamous Ciorba Radauteana. On our way to the local "bistro" we caught the end of the Popular dancers in centru. The costumes were amazing, yet a bit terrifying.



Once we had all been satiated, we were only left with time until the big count down at the Campulung Moldovenesc Times Square AKA the Plateou. So we headed to the other side of the tracks and over the Moldova River on the ever dependable draw bridge. We passed the time playing Makawa, the Romanian version of Uno, and wearing fur vests.

Excessive friendly banter led us up to the moment we had all been waiting for... a little place I like to call The Revelion Battlefield! It was like nothing else I have ever seen, let alone experienced. Not only did the Primaria provide fireworks (that may or may have not been done "professionally"), everyone and their mother had their own fireworks. Several went above and beyond the call of duty, which entailed spraying champagne and then smashing (perhaps even catapulting) the bottles onto the ground. Below is a small sample of the atmosphere and trust me, it does no justice to the actual monstrosity that ensued and still leaves me smiling! Happy New Year si La Multi Ani!

Channeling White Fang

Preamble Ramble: I’m no longer shocked (okay, I am sometimes but at least not entirely caught off guard) by the bluntness of the culture that surrounds me. I say blunt simply because topics we may consider taboo aren’t exactly a faux pas here….but trust me, there’s an inverse to that as well, which always leaves one a bit awkward with your tail between your legs... but that’s a story for another day. Hither-more, in conversations here; age, salary, religion, politics, marriage and weight are all fair game upon first meetings and anytime there after.

The Gamble: Sooo…After numerous days of a spring-like Christmas and morphing into what I ate, clearly a human sized Sarmale, I opted to take advantage of the falling snow for which I had so impatiently been awaiting. As I started my hike up to the Rock (no, Dwayne Johnson does not statue in BFE during the holiday season), I entered the woods on what doubles as a logging “road” and “driveway” for the few individuals who live and/or shepard at the top. And yes, I just used statue and shepard as verbs but…I’m over it. Anyways, I wasn’t able to smell what the Rock was cookin’ but I did spy that I was following the footsteps of what appeared to be two pairs of men’s boots and a dog. Ironically, I had the great fortune of realizing a bit too late that the NPR podcast that I had selected for my walk was about murder…not exactly the ideal setting to be listening to such a topic but I continued to listen out of fear that my imagination would come up with something far worse if I didn’t finish it out.

As I exited the wooded part of my trail, I saw the owners of the mysterious footprints in the snow coming back towards me. It wasn’t Jesus as I had hoped but in anticipation of the inevitable dialogue, I turned off my murder mystery. As I did so, I realized the wind and temperature was a bit more brisk once I was out of the protection of the forest. The man in the lead eyed me as if I was a walking freak gasoline accident the entire 100 meters until we met…

Man: Where you going in this weather?

Me: Up (Still new to random displays of conversation, I keep my answers short)

Alone?

Yes

Aren’t you cold?

No, I’m quite warm.

Where are you from?

(Damn, he noticed my idiot accent…should have kept my answer shorter) The USA…America.

America? Well, how is that possible? Where do you stay?

It’s true, I live here in Cȃmpulung.

How old are you?

27

Huh…do you have children?

Nope

Are you married?

Nope

Then you’ll definitely meet somebody here!

Maybe, I suppose it’s possible. Well…have a good day! (Unless of course you’d like my social security number)

The rest of their party arrives; a guy and 2 girls all about my age. Footsteps I didn’t see on the way up…perhaps Jesus was carrying them in their time of need…or maybe they all just came from the other way (I mean honestly, Jesus was just born. I really don’t think his 8 lb 6 oz frame could handle all that weight quite yet).

2^nd Man: Oh yeah, there’s a dog up there. And it’s loose.

Uh oh, really? (They’re just trying to scare the silly unmarried childless American)

Girl: Actually, we saw two.

(Shit, they’re being serious) That’s not good.

Boy: Just go up around the fence…or have some bread ready.

Well, okay, thank you! Merry Christmas!

And that’s a pretty standard but shortened first conversation that one might have on the train, in the post office or anywhere really. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve grown accustomed to hearing such questions. However, I am shocked by the ease of my reply…without hesitation. Not shocked like I just sat on my frosty squishy toilet seat in the freezing winter shocked but shocked like this is it! Mom and dad sent them to meet me so they must know the secret codeword shocked. Yet, these people don’t know the secret codeword we practiced so diligently as children and to no avail, I reveal all. When did I lose that Stranger Danger mentality that was so heavily engrained in all of us?

More Ramble: Continuing up to the top, alone…childless…unmarried…approximately 70 kg, I hesitated at the gate to think about this dog situation. There were paw prints all around the path, and I didn’t have any bread nor my Shepard stick…do I really want to meet my maker today? I plead temporary insanity for in my right mind I would have turned around immediately…however, at the time, my thought was…let’s see…you really haven’t left the house in 2 days…the climax of your last 48 hours was completing a jigsaw puzzle…you could stand for a little excitement…plus, all your winter gear gives you extra protection in the case of an actual attack. I moved slowly but successfully through the first ring of hell (AKA the farmer’s field) and the Rock was almost in sight. That’s when I heard the eerie howling of a wolfdog but the howling sounded more like crying. All this murder and dog talk got my ole ticker going a bit more rapid than the standard anxiety. I happened to be passing a frozen spring that in warmer temperatures dripped into a giant tractor tire that had been cut in half, and I opted to snap off a large and extra pointy icicle. My god, with the howling wind blowing snow and whipping across the field where the Rock sits, and me in hunter mode with my icicle weapon in hand…I was almost certain that the White Fang credits were about to start rolling.