Saturday, January 21, 2012

Grocery Shopping in a Romanian Town

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.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Istanbul: I’ve Been Grand Bazaared

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.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Dancing Bears: Take II

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.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Budapest: Have You Lost That Christmas Feeling?

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.

Resolutions and 2012

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.