The Sun Has Set...

December 13, 2007

Well, the sun has set on my time in Romania. Not that the sun ever rose while I was here, technically speaking.... Still, I am at the Romanian International Airport, which means that I have survived the first leg of my journey. After two weeks here, I must say that Romania is still largely a mystery to me. On the way to the airport this morning, the car I was driving in hit a dog. This would have been cause for pause in America, but here it might as well have been a speed bump. Not five minutes after hitting this first dog we see another dog lying right in the middle of the road, having just been hit by someone else's car. At least it wasn't a small child. Brian actually had to start a puppy cemetery in our yard somewhere to accommodate the influx of animal carcasses. As noted previously, this is not a tourist hot spot. Also of note this morning: after going through security at the airport I stopped to inspect a bin filled with items that had been taken from passengers. In just ONE BIN what do I see but three pistols and and least half a dozen knives. Huh. At Logan Airport I normally see water bottles.

Last night I was informed that on their wedding day Romanian brides are often "stolen" from the reception in the name of fun, but that periodically this turns into a village "pillaging" of the new bride, which is not so much fun. In other lands it may even be deemed something like "rape", which has a decidedly harsher tone than "pillage".

On Tuesday I had my official United Planet "excursion" - a day aimed entirely at entertaining me, although I didn't realize this until well into the afternoon. Maggie, Andrei, Brian and I piled into our wreck of a car and headed out into the Romanian hills to see a series of castles. As in all of our interactions, Maggie and Andrei play the role of mom and dad (although Andrei is 26), while Brian and I impersonate teenagers. Brian was dressed all in black, including black sunglasses, and stared forlornly out the window for the entirety of the trip, except when he broke his stare to tell Andrei and Maggie some ridiculously untrue "fact" about America (i.e. that female cage fighting is HUGE on the North Shore). I had my headphones on and was for all intents and purposes 16. Maggie bought all of my snacks all day, took me on bathroom breaks, etc. It was like a Griswold family vacation that nobody was remotely interested in, yet still we pressed on. After driving for three hours we found that our first castle was closed. That was ok, because the second castle on the list was Dracula's castle. I saw no signs of Dracula at all, except in the gift shops which sold an assortment of vampire themed goods (as well as blond wigs...I don't know why blond wigs). The castle also featured a very old school haunted house - no special effects whatsoever, although it did feature three teenage boys whose job was to jump out and grab you as you walked down a dark corridor. The thrill!

Last night I learned that the village I have been staying in often gets visitors seeking wives. Not long ago a middle aged woman brought her 30 year old son to the house I've been living in to seek a wife. I really can't imagine why anyone would choose our village to seek a wife, although I am told it is because we house some impoverished, unwed mothers. This would not sweeten the pot in America, but again, things are different here. My friend Ally has been interested in hooking up with a villager named Costine (a strong but silent type - I have not heard him say a word in weeks). But Costine is seeking a wife, and oddly enough Ally is not interested in relocating permanently to the Romanian foothills to have Costine's child.

One thing I will be pleased to be done with: double dipping. The food at my house has been great (not that I'm a tough critic, but it's been really good). The only problem is that everyone (and there are always a motley crew of people floating around the house) eats out of communal bowls with their own forks and spoons. It's a double dipping nightmare, really.

Well, I'm off to London now, and then Ireland. I can't promise such colorful stories from those destinations, but who knows what I'll find. I have been told that the hotel I'm staying at on Sunday night in London requires me to inform them 48 hours in advance if I would like a sandwich. Unless their sandwiches are made of imported gold bricks this doesn't seem reasonable. Romania is not the only strange country on earth.