Floriilor

In addition to the beginning of Passover, today was the Orthodox Palm Sunday, or "Floriilor" in Romanian. Thus it's also the namesake day for people with names like Florin or Florentina. To celebrate, the weather put on a fabulous showing: the warmest sun and a light breeze...lovely.

Coming up in the next two weeks: Easter and the "Days of Brasov." Stay tuned for what I hope will be some awesome photos of these Romanian traditions.

Today I also was treated to an evening with my two new favorite people: Andreea and Serban. Here's some photos from the day.

Andreea and Serban at work in the kitchen.

Serban, me, and Andreea play with the camera after having accidentally discovered the oh...what do you call it? 10-second delay?

The view from Serban's apartment.

Rainy Transilvania Weekends

Between the weather, class, living without water one week and without heat the next—not to mention my 5-week illness (I know—I need to go to the doctor)—I forgot to write about Sibiu. 

Luckily, since that was awhile ago, I can get away with just posting photos...

Some old friends run into each other on a Sibiu street.

Alina tells Cristina about a painting by her friend.

A group gathers by the fountain in Piata Mare.

Digging into dinner

Iron Bridge/Liar's Bridge

Poetry and Springtime

Springtime came again this past weekend. I found myself wandering around, intentionally taking wrong turns just so I could draw out the walks a little. I also brought my camera so I could spy on sunshine hiding behind the doors on my street. This drew a few suspicious stares from my anonymous neighbors and some passersby, but that's okay; I deserved it. Somehow in the spring, I don't feel the need to hide my foreignness; instead I embrace the chance to hang my camera around my neck and act like a tourist.

I also made it to the fresh foods market a few more times. Mostly for strawberries. This is something I can't resist. But look at how many I got for a little over a dollar! I'm also encountering other (imported) bounties of spring...like baby spinach, fresh basil, and seedless grapes. If only I lived in Italy; they would all be freshly harvested.

We had another slice of American pie this week, as another Fulbright professor took some time out from Bucharest for a visit. This time, we actually had a poet, who doubles as a professor. He gave a poetry reading on Monday night, followed by a talk on "The Situation of the American Poet" in one of the courses today.

The poetry reading was hosted by the American Culture Club, and I considered it to be a very successful event. We had a sizable and diverse audience, including a few eloquent high school students, some American studies professors, and several new faces.

And the poetry wasn't so bad either! Students who last week claimed they hated poetry found themselves reassessing that view.
For me, a typical American who hasn't read poetry since 12th grade, it was also a fascinating experience. And we had the pleasure of hearing a new poem, inspired by the NATO Summit coming to Bucharest, as it was read to the public for the first time.

The talk today was also interesting, well at least to me as an American. At both the reading last night and the talk today, the poet suggested that poets in America, first of all, are currently invisible, but also that they are the ones we look to in order to give words to horror. So, not only do they praise what's good in the world (his example was a flower growing out of a crack in the sidewalk), but they also dispraise that which is evil in the world. So, at last a concrete answer to why humanities are so important.

In a somewhat poetic gesture, the warm spring weather today shifted to a very wet drizzle. To me, this is acceptable, as long as winter doesn't return. As I was walking to the university I noticed the mist rising out of the trees on Mt. Tampa, which up until now have mostly clung to the dead brown color of winter. But, as the mist rose it exposed a lot of new growth—imagine my shock! What, green on the mountain? Is it really time? Here's the view from my house. This is why rain can be wonderful.

Acculturation

On Tuesday, the USA came to town. One of the American Fulbright professors came to speak on "The Current State of Identity Politics in the United States." First of all, maybe one or two people in the room (about 40 people) knew what "identity politics" means. A handful more could separate politics from politicians. But with a good dose of American-style communication, by the end of the class period students were arguing over whether individual freedom trumps the integrity of culture. And of course, a debate erupted over whether Hungarians should integrate or Romanians should be more accommodating.

American Culture Club meeting

The professor also joined us at the American Culture Club later in the day for an informal chat. First of all, I should mention that the group we had was very diverse: four club members; two other American studies students, including a Hungarian student whose uncle lives in the U.S. and one in her 40s who briefly lived in NYC and Portland; two boyfriends, including one who goes to Georgia every summer; and one new club member, a grad student. And me, too. We talked about everything from Barack Obama and his political abilities to the NCAA Final Four and the phenomenon that is American college sports. We also talked about Romanians being excessively self-critical and disrespectful when it comes to other generations. Neither of which were denied by either.

Tonight I went to a performance with 4 in 1: dance (yes, "Exotic Dreams"), singing, comedy, and fashion. It was kind of like a talent show for college students. The dancers were really good and barely dressed; in fact in one "comedic modern dance" number the only male left the stage in a thong. That was awkward, but to be fair, most of the girls entered the stage dressed like that. I went to the show because one of my students was acting in it. Her piece was very funny and I could actually understand it (it helped that the whole scene/script was repeated 5 times) - there was one character that I particularly liked because he had a stutter, which meant it was impossible for me to miss a word (Eu-eu-eu-eu am-am-am-am o-o-o-o prob-prob-problema). Cristina proved her acting was great and held her own as the only female in the scene (a big contrast to, say, the fashion show with the Oh-My-God-these-women-are-hot models and the Exotic Dreams/stage full of half-naked dancers).

The theatre where all this went down was the Student Cultural House. It was packed with spectators, but the door was left open to the courtyard so people were coming and going continually, especially for cigarettes. The audience talked throughout the whole thing, especially during the songs. Here are some photos of Cristina's scene.

Cristina, as the manbaby's mom, calling the doctor.

Everyone's favorite worthless Communist doctor

Measuring the dead manbaby's body

A poster for the show

Anecdotal Evidence

Today, I saw one of my students twice. I saw her after class at the xerox place. And I saw her before our club meeting at the bus station. I knew she couldn't come to class, and I knew she couldn't come to the meeting. Her reasons? I asked:

Me: "Can you come this afternoon?"

She: "No. My parents are gone for three weeks so I am at home alone. I have to take care of the dog and everything."

Me: "Where did they go?"

She: "To the countryside."

Me: "Oh, and they didn't take you?" (Remembering that the topic of her recent essay was her childhood trips to the countryside)

She: "No, well, I have school."

If/when I have kids someday, I'll be sure to take the dog with me when I leave my kids at home for school days, so that they can actually go to school. Or, teach them how to lie more logically.

reasons why I'm special

Photo one: Mine. "House of the People" in Bucharest. December 2007.

Photo two: Same.

Photo three: AP. Same room, but today, April 2008.

Though I wasn't personally invited to the NATO summit, and most people I know in Bucharest have escaped for the week, I can at least say this: "You know that room you see on TV? I've been there. Twice."

A Week - it's not boring, it's Brasov. It's Simple.

Given that this is a relatively normal week (for example, no handsome American dragging me off to Budapest this week), I thought it might be a nice time to do a "week in the life" type thing. And, also, I'm procrastinating. What a great way to do it.

Sunday morning...I slept through. Given that I went to bed at 5:30 am, this made sense. I needed some hours in bed to recover from the fun night before at Oldies, a ridiculous dance club here in Brasov that plays an equally ridiculous selection of music. So, late nights follow. (Although we must also account for the time change, which skipped an hour and made everything a little later.) And with them, late awakenings.

Monday I had meetings with students starting at 9:30. These meetings are related to my Effective English Writing class. Their first drafts of the first assignment were due last Thursday. Because of the limited schedule (7 class meetings the whole semester), the only way they can get feedback from me on their first drafts is to have a one-on-one meeting with me.
And of course, the ones who show up are the best students. The meetings were productive - we did a lot of simplifying. The silly part is that we have to meet at McDonalds. But there's a good reason for this - it's the only place (aside from KFC) where you can buy something at the counter and then sit at your table undisturbed. A lot of students feel uncomfortable meeting at a cafe where they feel pressured to buy something. But at McDonalds, it's not a big deal. Seeing as I was sitting there for several hours, I had an orange juice and later a cappuccino, so as not to be rude. In the evening, I finished reading the first drafts, as well as make up assignments from people who missed class the week before; updated grades and attendance on Yahoo (I set up a class Yahoo group for such things); and sent some e-mails to the students.

Tuesday involved some boring moments; my apartment is not very inspiring. This is what happens when you don't have an office but still have work to do. On Tuesday I did some planning for various things - mostly American Culture Club, a little for advising. In the late afternoon I took off for a meeting, and ran into my (former?) Romanian tutor on the way. I haven't seen her since January, and I didn't even recognize her - she lost weight and dyed her hair. So we had an awkward and brief conversation, and promised to stay in touch on e-mail. I also ran into one of my students from last semester, who I swear grew like 5 inches. Or maybe she was wearing heels and I wasn't? I dunno. But she was tall.

The meeting, for the American Culture Club, was our first real meeting at the public library, which has graciously given us the space for at least 2 hours a week, as well more when we need it for events. We had a small turn out with just me and 5 students, but it was productive. We talked about our first event, which was over the weekend - the Multicultural Film Forum. We also talked about some of our upcoming events and leadership in the club. Next week we're having a visit from a Fulbright professor, so we discussed some of things we can ask him about. We're also planning a weekly documentary film series for Fridays, but we're still deciding which films to show. I think it's going well. I think. But sometimes emotions fly high and people start yelling in Romanian. This is when I get lost.

Wednesday I purposely slept in, because I've been sick for three weeks and finally had some time to rest up. When I woke up I realized I had a meeting with a student to run to, so I quickly got ready for the day. Sadly, she didn't show up, so I just sat for half an hour. To be fair, it wasn't rudeness or forgetfulness. I honestly think she didn't get my e-mails. This seems to be a problem a little bit too regularly, with e-mails to me and from me.

After waiting, I headed off to Kaufland for some grocery shopping. This is practically a whole-day event. First is the matter of catching the bus - which I happened to work out just fine on this day. However, sometimes I have to wait for 10 minutes or so. The bus ride takes about 20 minutes, as I am going to the end of the line, and it's not very direct. I was prepared for Kaufland: shopping carts cost a refundable 50 bani (about 20 cents). I know what it's like to show up without one, so I always check before leaving for Kaufland. And since I've been there, I also understood the woman who asked me if I had 50 bani I could give her in exchange for 1 leu, which was exciting. I like helping people - and I don't get many opportunities here. Inside the store, I bought many of my favorite things (pears, strawberries, the best bread ever), but skipped the avocados, which have been climbing in price since I got to Romania.

Wednesday afternoon and evening I spent planning. Most of this was for my presentation tomorrow, at a local high school. I also had a little work to do for class - specifically for next week. This week I only have one class, and I taught the same lesson last week, so planning is minimal. Next week I have two new classes to plan for, and three to teach, so I try to balance the load by getting some work done this week.

Today (Thursday) I had one morning class for Discourse of American Media. The first half was me talking about the article we read about media as political actors; the second half was students presenting their Class Project assignment. I called it that because they freak out when they hear "Presentation." So today there were supposed to be 4 partner groups presenting for a total of 8 students speaking. I had three actually speak, and all on their own. One of the presentations was excellent (she found 5 different media stories about Bush in Ukraine and did a decent job analyzing them), one was sufficient, and the other was a good attempt. But I was proud of all of them because they actually came to class prepared for their presentation. This can be rare.

When I got home, I learned something that made me celebrate the fact that I took a shower this morning, and washed dishes last night, and more importantly, did laundry yesterday. However, my plans to mop today, as well as my plans to do fun things like wash my hands and flush the toilet, must be postponed. Why? Someone apparently hasn't paid the water bill for awhile. This is the first time this has happened to me, surprisingly. I have a tricky water situation, as my water is on my neighbor's bill. Generally she comes by and timidly knocks on my door to ask for the money. She hasn't been here for awhile. Did she already move? I hope not. If so, I'm screwed, because I don't have the bill. If I don't see her tonight I will have to 1. suffer a showerless day tomorrow, and 2. call my landlord. I know you're wondering why I didn't call him the instant water didn't come out of the faucet. Well, he's in Bucharest until tomorrow, my neighbor pays the bill, plus I have 2 litres of water from the store. You see, This is Romania. You just gotta go with the flow (or lack of it).

I quickly ran to pay my internet bill in fear of losing my connection to the world. I have to go pay it at the cashier, which is a 20 minute walk from here. Strangely, I like the walk - strange, because it's along the main road, with all of its exhaust and dust in my eyes. But it's interesting nonetheless. Afterwards I wandered through the fresh fruit, flowers, and vegetable market and bought more strawberries. Now I'm sitting at home, thinking about what to make for dinner, thinking about what to wear tomorrow, thinking about what else I need to do to prep for tomorrow, and trying not to think about the water situation.

Tomorrow, Friday, I will spend the morning at an academic conference here in Brasov. Most attendees are from Romania, with the keynote speakers coming from the U.S. and Hungary. The conference is called "Interface Between Theoretical and Applied Research," which seems at the same time possibly vague, boring, or interesting. I can only make it for a few hours. Hopefully those are interesting. In the afternoon I have a presentation at Andrei Saguna High School, which is considered by many to be the best high school in town. The presentation is about studying in the U.S. at the undergraduate level. It's mostly an introduction to the idea, since the college experience in the U.S. is totally different than the idea most Romanians (especially in Brasov) have of being a university student. After the presentation, I'm apparently hopping a train to Sibiu for the weekend. Sibiu is 2.5-3 hours by train, to the West. I've been told some Fulbright women are gathering there. Should be a good time.

Which means that Saturday I will be in Sibiu, hopefully getting to know it a little bit. I've been there twice but only for a matter of hours: once for a Fulbright dinner, and once for a train to Timisoara. And it's good to get out and see more of Romania, especially my neighboring cities!

Corn Tortillas

My corn tortillas are almost gone; they probably won't make it to tomorrow night. But it's okay - I'm feeling okay. The purpose of corn tortillas in my life here is to provide a sweet refuge in my memories of American food. The variety and combinations, the accessibility, and the tastes. I've had people import corn tortillas for me twice now. Soon, they'll be gone.

But I have a plan. More polenta. I've grown to love polenta. Which is not a hard thing to do here in Romania. As of today, I have three months left here (I fly back to Providence on July 1st). So for three months, I can embrace the simplicity of the Romanian vegetarian diet, and eat my fill of polenta.
(and no, the meat in the photo is not part of the veg diet)

Trampelling Over Tourists

Tourists.

I've heard Brasov described as a touristy place, and I tend to agree. It's normal to see people walking around with cameras and guidebooks, and testing their memorized Romanian phrases on passersby (my favorite is when they approach me, and we both struggle through directions in Romanian before realizing English would be easier). Since one of the favorite tourist sites (Mt. Tampa) is accessed from my street, I run into several tourists every day.

Another reason I think of it as touristy is that Brasov is a fairly lively place, yet the people who fill out the town in the evening are not students. In order to "go out" in the center you've got to have the money to pay for a good time. This is because the scene revolves mostly around bars and restaurants. With the exception of the theatre, there is no venue in the centre for culture. The (good) cinemas are at the edge of town, the opera is a good 15 minutes away, and the symphony has performances only on Thursdays. My impression is that people head home in the evenings, and that this is where the fun is to be had. So, the people I see are the tourists and businesspeople.

But after my trip to Budapest over Easter, I have a completely different perception of what a tourist is. The thing is, most American tourists don't make it as far east as Romania. A lot of people seem to think that going to Budapest fulfills the "doing Eastern Europe" adventure. And a lot of tourists just aren't interested in Romania. As it turns out, this is a blessing for people like me who have a new found disgust for large numbers of tourists.

Budapest was literally crawling with tourists. Apparently all the Hungarians hid away for Easter, because as I walked the streets of the city I more often heard people speaking English, Spanish, Italian, French, German, Dutch than people speaking Hungarian (a.k.a. people speaking a language I don't recognize while not carrying a camera or a guidebook). Every single person had a camera, most of them fairly big cameras. In the other hand, a guidebook. It was obnoxious, and I felt ashamed. This is why I don't have a lot of Budapest pictures and why we walked around aimlessly while the guidebook was locked safely in the hostel.

Budapest was also filled with market stalls selling everything from, well, everything to everything. Let me explain. Over the weekend the Budapest Wine Festival was held. It was outdoor and basically entailed taking your glass around to different stalls to taste any Hungarian wine you desire. Understanding and appreciating Hungarian wine is apparently very hip is today's Budapest. Sadly though, the wine festival was overrun with loud, drunk tourists stumbling around trying to find the cheapest glass of wine.

Down the street from there was the Easter market, which was a comprehensive collection of traditional Hungarian trinkets, pottery, clothing, jewelry, palinka, honey, food, and even furniture. Everything was of a very high quality, to the extent that I felt absorbed by it, a feeling I haven't yet felt in Romania. By absorbed I mean that it was all so full of life and pretty that I kind of wandered from one stall to the next thinking how much I wanted everything and looking at everything that caught my eye. A marketing dream come true.

We happened upon a photo exhibit in a park. It was called "100 Faces of Transylvania," and included photos from a photo contest. Being outside, it was free, and people were clamoring around it to find their favorites. My photo doesn't do its popularity justice - I intentionally tried to get one without people.

Another random stand we happened upon was a box office for the Budapest Spring Festival. Taking place over the second half of March, it was a performing arts festival, with everything from symphony concerts to operas, West Side Story to the Blind Boys of Alabama, and for the lucky ones, Hungarian folk music. The festival events were spread across the city's finest venues. I wanted to take Gordon to his first opera, but the show that worked out for us was called "Metamorphosis." When we bought the tickets, we didn't know what that meant or where the Palace of Arts was; we just knew that we spent $6 each on tickets in the first row of the third balcony. It turned out to be a concert for the Hungarian folk group "Meta," along with the various ensembles that members of Meta have played with. So the evening was filled with not only Hungarian folk music, but also a folk/jazz fusion, Transylvanian folk songs, Irish trad., and something called "HeavyMeta." The venue turned out to be down the Danube from the center, and apparently a millennium project. The building was ridiculous. From the inside, the closest comparison I can make is to the Scottish Parliament building. I can't attempt a description and I didn't have my camera, so just look at this: http://www.danubiusmagazin.hu/magazin/tortenelem/mupa.jpg

After we left town, the Budapest Fringe Festival took up another two days. So, culture in your face. It's hard to escape. Meanwhile, we must not forget the tourists.

Since I got back to Brasov, it's been interesting for me to consider the lack of both here. Well, do have tourists (it's not that I was imagining them before, after all). But they are Romanian tourists, and British tourists, and usually Spanish tourists. They come in small groups. They are not American college juniors studying abroad. They are not old American men traveling with their buddies. And they do not outnumber the locals.

Still, the locals shy away from coming out to play. This weekend, our new American Culture Club put on its first event. This club started basically because there's no American culture to be found in town. This contrasts with other cultures - we have the French Alliance and the German...place, which put on events and offer language classes. Our first ACC event was a Multicultural Film Forum, in which we played and discussed four films over two days. The kids (meaning students, about eight of them) worked really hard to publicize the event - they put up posters all around town, visited all the high schools and spoke to their English teachers and the students, passed out fliers between classes at the university, and invited their teachers, friends, and classmates. Yet on Friday our audience consisted of 5 "independent" people whom none of us knew, one American Studies professor, two friends, and 5 boyfriends of the students putting on the event.

My Romanian colleagues and students explained this limited turnout by telling me that people in Brasov are not accustomed to cultural events like this. Especially not free ones. Someone said people are too lazy to come, some said the weekend is a bad time for such an event, some said evenings were a bad time, some said mornings were a bad time, some that afternoons were a bad time. Some said people are scared because the event was in English. But the general consensus was that people didn't come because they aren't accustomed to going to events like that. So, our mission to bring more "American culture" to town is not just a matter of bringing it, but also getting people to want it. And no, Hollywood movies at the cinema do not count as American culture.

Anyway, blah blah blah. Basically, in a place like Budapest where tourism is developed and where some sort of sophisticated culture is appreciated, everything costs more. Here, tourism is cheap. People spend less money. This idea of "culture" takes a different shape. For me, the price is appreciated, but I miss cosmopolitan life. I just hope our efforts over the next few months bring about some little change.

Running around Romaina

Cluj and Brasov, as opposing anchors of Transilvania, are not exactly neighbors. The train ride from one to the other is a scheduled 5.5 hours with a usual half hour added bonus. Yet I've found myself on this 6 hour train ride several times in the past few weeks.

Two weeks ago, I went to Cluj for a presentation on U.S. study. This was possibly the most intense 24 hours I've yet experienced in Romania. Mihaela, the woman who runs the Fulbright Educational Advising Center, apparently lives this intensely every day. After checking into my hotel room, I met her at 7pm to head to dinner. The first thing she asked was whether I minded walking fast. Of course not, I love walking fast. But she meant really really fast. Like practically running. I should have taken a hint from her speed walking - the next 27 hours went equally fast.

The workshop was for high school students considering applying for U.S. colleges. All six hours of the workshop were held in the American Corner in Cluj, which is such a beautiful space. I shed a few internal tears as I contemplated everything Brasov misses out on without an American Corner. In addition to the workshop, we had a meeting with the head of the library, a press conference with newspaper journalists, a radio interview at the station, and dinner at a food-sickness-inducing Romanian restaurant. After finishing my salad and half a glass of wine,
I was whisked off to the train station by the library director's driver. My 22:03 train chugged its way into the station, and I climbed into my 6-seat compartment with all the old men making the overnight journey through Romania.

This week, I again boarded a train in Cluj, but this time five hours earlier (but still half an hour late to arrive). Rather than a private car, my ride to the station this time was what the Lonely Planet calls a "con artist taxi driver." LP goes on to say that people like him "unfortunately give Romanians a tainted name across the region." After using up my few words of Romanian, he realized I wasn't from the area and slyly changed the meter dial to reflect a 6,99 RON/KM rate. It's usually in the 1,99 range, or the 2,50 he had posted on the car door. When we pulled into the train station he asked for his 89 RON. That's just under 40 USD, for a taxi ride that usually comes to 6 or 7 USD (15 RON). We yelled at each other for awhile and eventually I got my bag in exchange for 40 RON. This was just 3 lei less than my train ticket to Brasov. Damnit.

But on the train I met a Romanian student who's been studying in Cologne, and our discussions helped to pass the time. She is an economics student, taking her classes in German, but also learning Spanish in Germany because all of her Erasmus friends there are Spanish. So she learns Spanish in order to hang out with them. It was really interesting to hear her perspective on Romania developing - everything from cutting the pig's neck to Germany's excessive recycling to the kids from her home town - basically she thinks it will take 100 years for Romania to be like Germany and Holland. Meaning ridiculously clean and efficient.

She's not someone who wants to escape Romania by going to Western Europe, but she loves being a student in Germany because her professors are approachable and she's learning for the first time in her schooling years. She also pointed out that she can make the same amount working one night at the Irish pub in Cologne as her friends in Medias make working at a bar for a month.

Also, something that suggests Romania is smaller than you might think: She knows my Romanian tutor, as they are from the same town. Our conversation was enjoyable and her stories of the international student scene in Cologne brought back memories of my time in Amsterdam. But my favorite thing that she said was that when she is at home in Medias, her friends call her "European" when she wraps her chewed gum in paper and throws it in the trash rather than simply spitting it out.

There's nothing quite like climbing onto the 51 or #4 bus to pull out of the train station and make my way back to the center of Brasov. I like coming home.