Saying Goodbye

Today was the last day of the school year. It's hard to tell, with so many cultural and language barriers, how much impact I have had on the people I've met, taught, and worked with for the past two years.

I'm a pretty quiet person. I'm more apt to sit and observe than jump into ongoing conversations. My natural tendencies compounded with the fact that I was tentative about using Romanian while most of my colleagues were tentative about using English meant that it took a long time for me to consistently engage in conversations with many of the other teachers at my schools.

Although not being able to fully express myself was frustrating at times, I was always at least able to smile and greet everyone with a friendly and polite "Buna dimineata" or a "Buna zuia." Not to brag, but I think I was able to make very good impressions with many of the older teachers just by being polite and upbeat. And in a work place environment that is always helpful.

Although I never sought out attention, I had it just for being different and other. I never felt this was a negative at my schools. As one of my colleagues put it today, "Julie was the only teacher able to walk through the school without a name tag and still be known by everyone." In my small town, everyone knows I'm the American girl and in my school, everyone knows I'm the English teacher who is a bit odd (but in a good way).

This week, as I have been collecting and making many goodbyes, even many of my students and colleagues that I was not particularly close to wanted to express their gratitude for my time here and for the work I have done. I hope my presence has brought some awareness of things that are odd or "other" and in the most non-cliched sense possible, that some of them might have an increased interest in something new. And, of course, it is always nice to be appreciated.

People always say that teachers are under-appreciated. And these two years have definitely been some of the most challenging of my life. I admire but do not envy those that make teaching their life's devotion. I wish every teacher at both of my schools all the best.

Oh The Places We'll Go

The Dr. Seuss book, "Oh, The Places You'll Go" was the theme of my high school all-night grad party. I've been thinking about the message of that story again as both the 12th graders here are graduating and I'm preparing to end my service. I have now been in Romania for over two years and yes, I've experienced many of the cliched feeling of affecting change, of not, and being changed as well. I think the most important goal I have for myself coming out of this experience is to remember an honest account of my experiences here, the difficult and the gratifying.

Wednesday of this week was the graduation ceremony for 12 C, a class I taught last year who's home room teacher is my counterpart. These kids are pretty great. I always enjoyed teaching them and this year, when I wasn't their teacher, it was always nice to stop and chat for a few minutes when I saw them in school or in town. Since students spend all their classes together for their four years of high school, they form very strong bonds with their classmates and their teachers. The school has a number of graduation robes that the students borrow for their ceremony. 12 C had made a video of their class saying goodbye and sharing memories, set of course to Vitamin C's "Friends Forever." Their home room teacher gave a short speech and then various students said a little about each of their teachers. Everyone gets very emotional (me less so, since I was using most of my concentration trying to translate the rapid Romanian in my head).

Friday was Children's Day here in Romania. After the 12th graders passed the "key" to the school onto the 11th graders, there was a festival celebrating the children in the town. There were dance troops, guitar ensembles, art projects, and fun all around. My favorite was an act of 5 or 6 year old dancers. The little girls had cheer-leading uniforms and pom-poms and had learned a cute rudimentary dance. The best part was that there was one little boy who was extremely enthusiastic but always a beat or two behind the girls in the dance. The whole thing was incredibly adorable and I found myself smiling through the entire four-minute production.

Friday evening was the banquet or "prom" for the 12th grade. It was held in the reception hall at a bed and breakfast in a neighboring town. All the students take advantage of the occasion and get very dressed up. The girls wore cocktail dresses or gowns (many of them even brought a second one to change into!) and towering stiletto heels. The boys care just as much about their outfits and there was an abundance of purple dress shirts and bow ties. I'm always entertained by awkward interactions so the people-watching was wonderful. The students find it very amusing to be at a party with all their teachers. Since the party didn't start until nine, everyone ate and danced until the wee hours. Luckily, I was able to duck out around three a.m. so I didn't have to stay until five or six like some of the other chaperones.

There are still three weeks of school for the other students, so now is the time to concentrate on finishing the school year and continue checking things off my checklist in preparation of returning to the States.

Incorporating Music and Cultural Exchange In the Classroom

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love music. I listen to it all the time and will happily recommend songs and bands I like to anyone who is interested. I'm always looking for interesting ways to incorporate music into my lessons and broaden the musical horizons of my students.

The past couple weeks, I have been giving my middle school students verbal exams. This is a good way to test their listening and speaking skills while also making it more difficult to cheat! I prepared questions and conversation started adequate for each grade level (though discrepancies within classes were more difficult to manage). Some of my 5th graders know more English than some of my 8th graders. I asked questions with increasing difficulty and allowed for basic answers versus more embellished ones. Overall, both I and my students were pretty happy with the process. I tried to make the testing atmosphere as relaxed and conversation-like as possible, since I know how frightening and frustrating speaking tests can be.

I first considered conducting the tests outside the door of the classroom to prevent students from overhearing the questions, but that would have been asking for chaos to reign within the classroom. Then I considered having students leave the classroom after they had completed the test, but again, that did not give me adequate supervision. Finally, I decided on playing some music for the rest of the class while having the individual tests at the front of the room.

I gave the entire class a small-group activity to due for the period and called students up one by one. Some were extremely nervous and would answer my first question, "How old are you?" with "Fine." I would patiently repeat the question, making sure to articulate the words very clearly and slowly, until (hopefully) they understood. After the first question, most students seemed much more comfortable.

Besides testing their listening and speaking abilities, I also wanted to share some music that I enjoy. Most of my students have very different music tastes than I do. I'm glad they enjoy pop and rock and metal. I also want to take some time to expose them to types of music they may otherwise never be exposed to. During my 8th grade classes, I played the new album from the band fun., called Some Nights. I thought the music might have elements that are similar to things they already enjoy but also have elements and sounds they have never heard before. And I was successful!

At the end of class, when students usually come up to the teacher's desk to pester me about their grade, my student, Beni, brought me a USB drive and asked if I could put the album on it for him. Just one student, but it really made my day.

I have a little over three months left here in Romania, and I'm going to try to have as many of these little moments as I can.

Women's Day and the Power of the Internet

Today is International Women's Day. We don't celebrate it in the US. I compared it to Mother's Day for those of my colleagues that asked today. Women are presented with flowers, candies, or small gifts given to show appreciation. Out teacher's lounge smelled like a greenhouse and looked a lot like one too.

We had a nice luncheon at the high school to celebrate and I got to have a half-Romanian, half-English conversation with the six-year-old granddaughter of my friend, the librarian. (I teach my classes in the library, so we have become friends.)

The flowers and celebratory feelings were a wonderful reminder that spring is right around the corner even though there is still snow on the ground.

Also today, I had a few conversations about the power of the internet in light of the recent social media fervor surrounding Invisible Children's Stop Kony campaign. Mostly we are looking at the issue as a potential teaching topic by relating the video depicting the atrocities Kony and his army are waging in Sub-Saharan Africa with issues also relevant in Romania, like child sex-trafficking.

I am, as of yet, unconvinced of the effectiveness viral campaigns will have on political outcomes. Unlike many other Americans, I have been aware of Kony and the Invisible Children since 2006 when some of the former child-soldiers came and spoke at my college. There are so many things going on in the world that we, as Americans, don't ever consider in our day-to-day lives.

I hope that an internet awareness campaign of this magnitude can put pressure on politicians to pursue certain policies, but I am skeptical of how long public pressure will last. The internet today allows us answers automatically and as a result, our attention spans have decreased dramatically. Unfortunately, I am afraid that once most people post a message on Twitter or a link on Facebook, they will feel that have done their part. I hope to be proven wrong over the next few weeks, and their is widespread public pressure for the US and other governments to continue to pursue Kony.

Another concern I have with this type of viral campaign is that when we paint one man as "the bad guy," which Kony most certainly is, most people tend to forget to look out for other potential negatives coming in to fill the gaps. Kony is not the only problem and not the only issue that deserves to get so much attention. No matter what Rihanna has to tweet about the topic.

I sincerely hope that this first venture into organized social media campaigning for political outcomes results in a model that can be molded to bring awareness, action, and accountability to governments and the public alike.

Valentine's Day Lesson

For Valentine's Day on Tuesday I planned a lesson for one of my 5th grade classes. We learned some vocabulary, did a word search, and had a Valentine's Day card-making competition.

The ability level of this class is incredibly varied. I have a handful of students who are very good at English. I have some students who try very hard but struggle. And then I have a lot of students who seem to have no interest in learning English.

So many of these kids are so adorable, I get lots of hugs every time I see them in the hallway. I also think there is a game for students to see if I will say Hello back to every student who says Hello to me. (So far, I think I have.)

I think most of the kids really enjoyed the lesson. I'm always grateful when my students enjoy something I spent time working on.

Here are some pictures of their Valentine's Day creations:

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.

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.

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.

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.

Anticipation

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.

How Helpful Signs Can Be

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.

Summer Recap Three

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.

Summer Recap Two

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.

Summer Recap One

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.

Cultural Differences and Worry

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.

Time Flies

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!

Mini-camp in Agas

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.

May Adventures

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!

Easter 2011

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.