Pictures from the train window continued: Calan
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.


I took this video out the window of the train and you're just going to have to read what I have to say about this video because originally it was 185 MG of countryside between the train station and the factory with explanation and Romanians speaking in the background.I had to edit it down to 99 because 100 is all blogger and youtube can handle. And apparently blogger can't handle it.


This is video of the factory in the town of Calan. When I visit my friends south of me in Baru Mare or in Petrosani this is the train I take and it goes through the abandoned factory. The factory is on both sides of the tracks. I've also been in a car that drove through Calan and let me tell you the abandoned factory on both sides of the road is an experience. I must say looking out train windows in Romania you see an abandoned factory like this every so often but this is the biggest one I've seen. It also extends back away from the tracks quite a bit.


I don't know what used to be made in this factory. I don't know how many people live in Calan, but these are things that I'm going to try to learn. I don't know if anything is being done with this abandoned factory but I have a feeling it's beyond any Peace Corps volunteer to do a project about it.

Happy St. Nicholas day!

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Today is St. Nicholas day. The day when Romanian children wake up, run to their shoes and open their presents, and then go to school. I imagine however, since it's not a National holiday and people still go to school and work, that the school day is probably mostly St. Nicholas day parties.

As I understand it Christmas eve and Christmas day in Romania are more about feasting, drinking, singing and going to church with your family and the majority of gift giving happens on St. Nicholas day.

I decided to celebrate St.Nicholas Day (why not) by buying myself some chocolate. And oranges. When I was a kid we always got oranges and Hersheys kisses and sometimes dimes in our shoes. I think we celebrated this holiday to calm us down in the run up to Christmas - the time when everyone under 10 is out of their mind with excitement. I'm not out of my mind with excitement about Christmas, but there are things I'm looking foward to and I thought it would be nice to treat myself today.

Well a little treat turned quite extravagant because I don't usually eat lunch. But I decided to celebrate my birthday a little early and buy myself my new favorite cheese spread which is a little like cream cheese with garlic and herbs and dark bread.

I got up early to go to the piata to buy oranges and collect a package of treats sent to me from Hawaii! Better than anything I could find in my shoe, I get the taste of something new, reminders of loved ones far away and favorite tea! On the way I ran into my neighbor and wished her a happy St. Nicholas day. On the way I home I decided I would give her half my oranges later. Then I went to the store for chocolate and Schwepp's Bitter lemon (my new addiction) and stopped by my office to share the experience of Stash Chai Tea. There was only one person at the office but St. Nicholas had left little gift bags for everyone with chocolate Santas. Interestingly, he left a little bag of chocolate for me there, too!

Then I came home to light a big stick of cinnamon incense and induldge in cheese, bread, an orange and a banana, chocolate, Schwepps and tea. All for me! It's nice to have a special treat for yourself every once in a while. Thank you St. Nicholas!

Oh, an my neighbor thought oranges on St.Nicholas day was strange until I told her it's what I always found in my shoe. She responded by knocking on my door and presenting me with - more chocolate!

Pictures from the train window
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Here are two different journeys, one I've taken twice now and maybe not again, the other I take every time I visit three friends to the south of me. First here are the pictures of the beautiful Transylvanian scenery between me and Miercurea Cuic to the northeast of me. It's a seven hour train ride one way. Miercurea Cuic is supposed to be the coldest city in Romania and when I was there in the begining of November it was cold and snowing, but now that I went again on Nov.30 it's not so cold. In between here an Miercrea Cuic is a scenic country side with lots of quaint houses set beautifully against the snow covered hills and my photography out of the train window doesn't do it justice.

: ((

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and so do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps. Like totally!

This is the emotocon for crying. Those of you who know me know there's only two tv shows I care about since The West Wing was canceled (and TV is dead to me), The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. I'm sorry I don't have anything to say about the Broadway stagehands strike, but Broadway and I aren't really speaking. I will say this though, being far away from home I really enjoyed watching The Daily Show and The Colbert Report online four days a week.

The writers' strike is killing me.

I have cried real tears over this.*

But I think the whole situation is best summed up by another fan, and if you still need more explaination go to youtube and watch Not the Daily Show. Bless John Oliver for being a Brit and showing up in that video.

Here you go. It's short but you may as well pop the popcorn. There's no other reason to anymore.



* not while I was awake but I dreamed I did.

I MISS THE DAILY SHOW AND COLBERT! WAAAAAAAAAH WAAAH! (sob!)

Vecina mea

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

The above phrase in Romanian means "my neighbor." My neighbor is a real character. A cranky old woman quite insistant on her way who always seems to have a mouth full of cracker crumbs which she spits on me when she talks. She's nice when I offer her extra food I won't be able to finish or free groceries I got from the Red Cross that I don't think I deserve. She has a habit of telling me in Romanian that I don't speak Romanian well, the other American who lived here before spoke Romanian better. She also insists that Phil's name was Paul and that he promised her his pots and pans when he left so I should give them to her when I leave and when am I leaving Romania again?

She's also someone who hasn't gotten that if someone doesn't understand the language you're speaking, repeating yourself louder doesn't help. She's nosey and sometimes annoying and grabby. She offers unwanted advice, and helps her self to whatever food I have out on the counter when she comes over and when she doesn't like what I'm saying to her in Romanian such as "don't put your frozen meat in my freezer. My freezer is full and I don't want to keep your meat frozen for you," she pretends she doesn't understand me. However, I believe that deep down she is a sweet lady.

Sunday I was home for four hours before I had to catch another train to take me two hours south to pick up my cat. My neighbor came over to give me some little apple cakes and thank me once again for the free groceries I gave her in October. She brought over the apple cakes on a plate so she could come into my apartment and set them on one of my plates - just because she wanted to come in. Usually entrance into my kitchen is an opportunity for her to ask me for my pots and pans, but this time I figured, why not ask her advice on something. My notices form the post office that indicate I have something to pick up have been arriving without specifiying which post office to go to - or maybe they do but the handwriting is unintelligable. I asked my neighbor about the noticed (she also, unasked, keeps an eye on my mailbox for me) and she offered to go with me to the post office.

I unwillingly accepted her offer as she was very excited to hear about the prospect of me getting a package from the U.S. I think she just wanted to see what was in a package from the U.S. I knew I couldn't get a package unless it was Tuesday or Thursday so we made plans to go this morning.

I woke up this morning to huge snowflakes falling down beautifully and coating all the trees and fences and cars. It was goregous. My neighbor was knocking on my door at 9 o'clock even though we agreed to go at 9 thirty because she wanted to remind me to pay my water bill. After I dressed and had my morning cup of tea we headed out together, bundled up warmly in the still falling snow. As we passed my mailbox I noticed I had another slip, this one for a letter, I suspected from a different post office than where one usually picks up international packages, but I did recently get an envelope with two books in it sent to me there, so I was even more confused. I took the notice and once on the main street my neighbor began dragging me to the telephone office. I tried to explain I'd never been to this office before, but she insisted the people in the Romtelcom office would tell us which post office we could pick up a package from the USA. It seems she had a bill to pay there, but as I expected the clerk behind the desk didn't know where to pick up my package, but another person in line directed us to the Vama - international post office for packages. I've been there several times.

My neighbor has never been there and didn't know where it was. Thus began the ensuing arguement. She wanted to go to the post office at the train station and ask there if they had my package. I wanted to go directly to the vama but she didn't beleive it existed or that I knew where it was. The wet snow was falling a lot lighter now, but the sidewalks were covered with a slippery layer of slush and mud. I worried about her falling. When she took my arm I was glad and I half wondered if she had brought other bills to pay and just wanted someone to walk with her. Walking to all the different offices to pay your bills can take most of a day and probably longer when your old, slow and in serious danger of falling down in the slush. For the first time I thought about how hard it is to get around if you're slow and elderly. Especially in the weather.

She produced no more bills, but we did continue slowly. She wanted to stop walking every time a car passed us and like a little kid, wouldn't cross the street unless there were no cars on the road at all. Apparently she hasn't learned the habit of drivers in her country that if you get into the middle of the road they will stop for you. I guess unlike me, she didn't trust her ability to leap out of the road if a car came up too fast, and she seemed deathly afraid of a car splashing us as it drove past. She lectured me on not wearing a hat, even though my scarf doubles as one and explained to me after six months of living in this city that you cross at the green light and wait at the red.

I explained I thought we were supposed to go the vama and that I knew where it was - between the train station and the market. We headed in that direction and usually she'd let me lead for about 1 street before she'd inisist I didn't know where I was going and pull me down a side street in another direction. We walked like this for about an hour. She stopped to ask for directions twice after I did my best to tell her where we were going - once when I was in sight of the post office. See! I know! was all I could say at this point - my frustration was high. We walked in. She seemed impressed that is was indeed a post office. My neighbor was determined to do all my speaking for me - snatched the slips out of my hand and told the lady behind the desk. "This is an American. She has two packages here. She doesn't speak Romanian." The lady wanted to know when I got the slip in my mailbox. I told her I didn't know because I wasn't home for over the end of last week when it arrived. Even though I said this in Romanian my neighbor felt the need to repeat to the lady She doesn't know. She wasn't home. She left for Miecurea Cuic! Well, I was Miercurea Cuic two weeks ago, but whatever.

It turns out there was no package. The slip I just got in my mailbox was for a package I picked up last week without a slip when I inquired at the Vama whether they had more than one package for me. I guess that didn't prevent them from delivering the slip anyway. I was showed the form I signed for the package. I thanked the lady and left with my confused neighbor and tried to explain the situation. I think she got it but was upset not to see a package from the US so she just said "I don't understand."

As we were walking along a young lady walking on the other side of us slipped and fell. My neighbor shouted Let us help you! and pulled the lady to her feet. I picked up her dropped purse and asked a couple of times if she was ok - never recieving a response because this caused my neighbor to launch into a torrent of Romanain. I have no idea what she was saying - if she was lecturing the young lady on how to walk down the street - or telling a story - but I know I heard the words "this is an American. She's my neighbor." I rolled my eyes and never learned if my neighbor knew this woman or not.

The vama had sent us to post office #1 for the second slip - where I had picked up my evelope with the two books. I had it in my mind this might be a smaller packet I'm expecting from Hawaii, possibly a large envelope. I didn't know why it went to the much hated post office #1 where the person behind the desk has been rude to me. There are several lines to get in. I always pick one, start at the end and when i get to the front try to polietly ask where I can go about the business that brings me to post office #1. My neighbor cut to the front of the line, leaned over the desk and demanded to know where an American would pick up a letter. She thanked the woman, then cut to the front of the appropriate line, grabbed the notice out of my hand leaned over the counter and again said, "My neighbor doesn't speak Romanian. She has a letter here." The woman at the desk looked briefly at my notice and said that I didn't have a letter there. My neighbor insisted "We've already been to the vama and they told us to come here." It was at this point that I by myself might have given up, my pushy neighbor persisted. I was questioned whether my packet was mailed inside Romania or from the US. I shrugged my shoulders. What do I know? Last time I got a packet here from Kansas. Now they were telling me no letter from outside Romania come through post office #1. I pulled out my Romanian ID card after hearing it called a "Buliten" a new word for it I've never heard before. My neighbor snatched it away to look at it, insisiting "this is your American ID." "It has a big picture of Romania on it." I responded. She looked at me and laughed. I realized that my lack of fluency in the Romanian language must be just as annoying to her as her slowness and failing eye sight must be to me. We were a pair of characters stumbling around all morning in the slush, fighting about which way to go. She, trying to help me, and me unwilling to listen because I was sure she was going to take me somewhere I didn't need to go.

Finally the lady produced a gray envelope mailed within Romania that contained some DVDs I ordered for a friend. A four part series on learning English that she was going to show to the kids at the orphanage where she works.

Humbled, I thanked the post office lady and put them in my bag. I forgot all my morning dreams of drinking my favorite tea, or eating salsa sent from the U.S. Disapointed the packet wasn't from the US, my neighbor questioned me about the DVDs and I explained what they were for. English lessons on TV?! She sounded just as excited, and I was reminded it wasn't all about me. Even though our language barrier caused us to annoy each other, it was nice of her to offer to take me to the post office, and to see me through to the second post office when there was no package at the first.

Back on the side walk, I appologized again for the confusion. She asked "You already got two packages from the U.S." "yes," I said. "Last week." "What was in it?" She wanted to know. I returned to thoughts I had earlier - that even though my neighbor is sometimes annoying, I should invite her over more. If I have a New Year's party, maybe I'll invite her for breakfast so she can try some American foods like cakes, chocolate chip cookies, and pancakes. As I described the contents of my packages I realized we were walking down the sidewalk together with no clear goal in mind. I told her I needed to buy cat food and milk and butter and she didn't have to come with me, I could go home by myself, and thanked her for walking with me. She agreed I could probably make it home by myself and let me go.

So I came home to post this blog entry and relax a little before heading back out into the melted snow to the Red Cross office today. At the top, by the way is the picture of my kitten in an envelope she crawled into.

A lot to be thankful for
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I try to always remember that I have a lot in my life to be thankful for, but as I have been thinking on my last eight months in Romania, I'd like to share a few things that I now have a new appreciation for. Things I once took for granted:

Microwaves for reheating food
Washing machines and dryers
Hot water whenever you want it
And running water whenever you want it
Heated homes
Going to the grocery store and buying whatever you want - whether it's in season or shipped in from Italy.
Vacuum cleaners
Television programs and movies in my native language because there are enough people with money who produce television shows who speak my language.
Doctors and hospitals where their mission is to make you well
Traffic lights and pedestrian walkways
Good roads
Getting a ride in a car from a friend with a car, or having a car available to leave my bag in so I don't have to carry my bag around all day.
Credit cards and checking accounts (Debit cards too)
Buying things online (with a credit card - or being allowed to)
Bike Paths
Having the option of conveinence foods when I don't feel like cooking - especially having the
option of healthy organic convienence foods
Thinking that maybe I should replace the plumbing if it's 60 years old and it leaks
Learning other than by rote
Animal shelters, shelter workers and people who respect animals
spices in my food
Sauce under the cheese on a pizza

These are just a few of the many things I realize I've taken for granted in my life, and there are in no particular order. I'm sure there are many more that could be listed, but I'm tired and don't want to bore you with a long list.

I'm Feeling Good...
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I'm in a ridiculously good mood. Most things have turned up. My computer is working faithfully, except for the DVD player, I've made my peace with the huge inconvience of having to travel out of my way in order to attend a conference, celebrate Thanksgiving and have my cat cat-sat for over the weekend.

I caught myself singing "My Favorite Things" this morning. I have that warm emotional, yet satisfied feeling you get at the end of watching Fellowship of the Ring when May It Be is done playing in the credits and the Shire Theme Song starts (that sone is actually called There and Back Again.)

I have a package from home to pick up tomorrow so I'm looking forward to my favorite tea and some surprises. My kitten is purring in my lap, and best of all is I do get to celebrate Thanksgiving with some friends in their villiage with some Romanian neighbors. This makes a huge difference to me because when I thought I was going to be too busy this weekend and not be able to leave my site city for the holiday during the week I was pretty upset. But not any more.

I made a pumpkin pie over the weekend out of a whole pumpkin. It actually turned out well but the texture is not what we-who-are-used-to-our-pie-pumpkin-from-a-can expect. The Romanian pumpkins aren't as sweet as "sugar pumpkins" grown in the USA. Some of them are pumkin zucchini combinations - hence that green "pumpkin" you saw in the Halloween picture with Bella. I don't know if I told you this, but squash, zucchini and pumpkin are one word in Romanian - so it can be a bit confusing.

One of my friends brought pumpkin seeds from the USA and planted them and I got one of his pumpkins - brought it back from Miercrea Cuic with me and baked it and made into a pie - with no evaporated milk, premade frozen pie crusts or food processor, beater or meat grinder - just a potato masher. It actually turned out like pumpkin pie too, but I think that's partly because I had access to ground ginger and brown sugar.

Pumpkin pie from scratch

I've come to embrace the idea that pumpkin pie is more about sweetness and spices than it is about pumpkin.

Anyway, I'm feeling good. And I can't stop watching this video on Youtube which sums up everything that I'm feeling about this holiday season!

Things Fall Apart...
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I returned Sunday from a week in Miercurea Cuic for my In-Service-Training Conference and what a week it was! While it was great to see everyone again and learn that the lumps in my throat and the back of my head were swollen lymph nodes and not cancer - the minute my body heard "sign of a virus" it freaked out and I was not able to keep so much as water in my system for 24 hours. And no I wasn't vomitting. Luckily I was better on Wednesday.

But then, much to my distress, my computer became even sicker than I was with the monitor doing this scary blinking thing and the whole system resetting itself when the blinking was too much to oh, say, write an email.

While wringing my hands and shuddering at the prospect of sending my computer over seas to be repaired under warranty, my cell phone charger took a cue from my computer and broke - although the phone charger took a more literal meaning and actually collapsed into four peices.

This is when my bank decided it would be a good time to confiscate my debit card even though they know I'm in Romania and I've used the card in March and July. Apparently due to some techno glitch someone -not me-reported my card lost or stolen. I don't know how that happens. But by protecting me, the bank actually created quite a hassle for me - having to go back the next morning with a speaker of Romanian and Hungarian because it's a Hungarian town to get it back. Luckily everyone was friendly.

So it was not a good time for Skype to suddenly trap me in one of their incredibly inconvient for law-abiding Americans in Romania security systems which will prevent me from calling home.

Even the fact that the hotel we were staying at offered reasonably priced Swedish massages with a discount for staying in the hotel (and I had a 60 minute Swedish massage) did not curb my stress level. At one point I turned to a friend of mine, ticked off the list on my fingers and said "everything in my life is falling apart." To which he responded, "how's your cat?"

So not funny.

I could go on about how since I've been back I found out the free ride I was offered to a conference is no longer extended so I have to find my own way there and pay for it - even after I already made Thanksgiving plans. Yesterday I cooked the beans too salty and the mashed potatoes too runny, I waited for two hours today to talk to a woman who never showed up, my face has errupted into a mount St. Helen's style zit, and my mom is worried my birthday and Christmas package got lost in the mail...but I can only stress out about so many things at once.

So I'd like to close with a list of things I appreciate - and that are going well, as this has been my most stressful week in Peace Corps so far.

I really appreciate how Kwarou has gotten better since getting home and is hanging in there like a true campaigner. I don't think I'll be sending him home. He's de-fragging right now and I've got some other tricks to try before I follow the HP man's advice and wipe the Hard Drive and start over.

The spinach and sundried tomato, garlic, zucchini mushroom pizza I made myself this afternoon. I first discovered sundried tomatoes - 1 jar at the grocery store in July. It was september when I bought them and I finally got all the ingredients together in the same place at the same time to make my favorite pizza. My own homemade crust wasn't bad and adding Italian seasonings to tomato paste works for sauce. you hear that Romania, sauce not ketchup. Pizza sauce.

My computer scaring me into thinking total meltdown was approaching has helped me be a lot more productive lately.

Bella, even though she's bigger, jumpier (and on to more things) and bitey as ever, I really missed her while I was away.

free hair cuts - my friend Dru cut my hair over the weekend and I didn't have to pay a nickel!

a hot water bottle - Dr. Dan brought it to me a week ago when finding one in my town could have been a secondary project. Even when I'm carefully boiling water on the stove for it I'm grateful to have it.

So that's it. The worst stress I've encountered so far and I am not beaten. Breathing. Drinking tea.
It's going to be all right.

Departing
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I didn't want to come home in week and see that I hadn't updated my blog in far too long, so I'm posting this to let y'all know that tomorrow morning I'll be leaving for a one week Peace Corps conference in Meircurea Cuic - the coldest town in Romania. I'm excited to be reunited with my training class and see what new trainings and hints and tips Peace Corps has in store for us.

In other I went to my friend's villiage of Baru Mare yesterday because her Peace Corps roommate will be taking care of Bella while I'm away. We got four hours of sleep and caught the 4 am train to my city from whence she journeyed on to the conference because she is supposed to be there a day early.

I thought I was getting a cold. I've been feeling crappy. Sort of run down and sore throaty and this morning I was nauseous for no reason. I got home after breakfast (at McDonalds because all decent restaurants don't open until 9)and was sincerely missing snuggling with my kitten. There was nothing for it but to wrap myself in a blanket and sleep on the couch through all 9 episodes of The Storyteller. When I got up I decided to take advantage of some things I can't do easily with a 3 month old kitten around. I did a 45 minute yoga class, took a long bath, and mopped the floors. Add to that two cups of medicinal cold remedy tea and I'm feeling fantastic! Aside from really missing my kitty.

Oh well, it's only a week. Gotta pack!

Happy Halloween!
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Three costumes I've always been able to pull out of my own wardrobe.
1. "Gypsy" - or American romanticized idea of a gypsy.
2. Hippie
3. Pirate

Today I'm going with number 2, but the color of my bandanna is not really "period" and if I take it off no one knows it's a costume. Oh, no one knows it's a costume anyway!

Password Protected
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

No, I'm not changing my blog over to a password protected blog. Mostly because I don't believe anyone really cares enough about what I have to say to remember my password and sign in to read it. I won't ask that of you.

I had to change my password on my hotmail account. I have never changed the password on my hotmail account. I learned when changing my password that I have had my hotmail account since December 19, 2001. So remembering a new password is going to be a pain in the ass because right now it's just muscel memory. Good thing I log in to hotmail in the morning and leave it open all day.

More than that, even though I know I shouldn't, I have the same password for everything on the internet. Except those stupid accounts that make you have a number in them - for them I have the same password with a number in it.

I had to change my password because I got an email from ebay that said someone might have stolen access to my ebay account and I could protect it by changing the password to my primary email address. Now I haven't used my ebay account since January of 2004 when I purchased a brand-new still in the box Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring Samwise action figure with real pots and pans swinging action. But I have a half.com account and half.com is owned by ebay and I use my half.com account all the time to look at books I'd like to read that are for sale for 75 cents.

So I decided it could be serious and I followed the email from ebay's instructions and changed my password. Then I went to their website for Live Help so they would give me permission to re-enter my own account. While I was waiting for a customer service represented I realized that I looked at my half.com account yesterday. I added two more books (available for 75 cents each plus shipping) to my favorites list. I was considering emailing my User ID and password to a few people with a note saying check out my favorites list, I'd really like to read these books and you could buy them for me for just 75 cents. You could wait till you have a whole box of books and ship them to Romania and not only would I be your best friend for life, I would reimburse you the cost of shipping when I, you know, have money again in USD.

It occured to me that since I entered my own account from a computer accessing the internet from Romania, I was probably shut out of my account to protect me from myself. Somehow the people who keep track of this sort of thing have named Romania the number one country in the world for illegal things done on the internet. I've had this problem before trying to sign up for Yahoo Voice which is cheaper than Skype. (Skype by the way never helped me with my problem. I just emailed my password to my mom - which was the same password as my email password and told her to buy me Skype credit from the U.S.) These companies don't want my money because they don't believe that a perfectly good U.S. credit card could be used from Romania for a healthy purpose. Granted, they probably have good reasons for believing this but it makes things very difficult for the totally innocent holders of perfectly good U.S. credit cards in Romania.

So I log on to Live Help and start chatting Instant Messenger style with a guy named Randall who I think might even bee a real person, although his typing was very scripted and he kept using my name and reassuring me in a very "this crisis will all be over soon" kind of way. I informed him that I'm a Peace Corps volunteer in Romania and I was likely the reason I was shut out of my account. After consulting whatever file on me ebay has registered under my username (which is the same as my username for my email address) he informed me that everything would be fine. I just have to fax a copy of an ID like my driver's license or a bill to ebay's fraud department and they would make sure the address matched and then I would be allowed in my account again.

There's no way I'm paying to send an international fax. I didn't tell him I haven't lived at the address on my driver's license (Pine Street, Stevens Point) since before I set up my hotmail account. Instead I said, the address on my utility bill won't match because I'm living in Romania now. My bills are in Romanian and the address on the bill is where I'm currently living but the name is my landlord's father. (And by the way I don't even get an electricity bill I just know that once a month I have to go to the Cashier Electric after writing down the number on the meter, or they'll shut off my electricity.)

Randall consulted his file. He told me someone in the U.S. could fax in a utility bill from my old address and that would be sufficent. And he assured me that this would all be over soon and I would regain access to my ebay account. I told him I didn't get any more bills at my old address. Would any peice of mail be ok? He checked his file and said it would. What if my mom sells the house? Fine as long as I don't get shut out of my account again (because then I'd really be out of luck since I don't know why I'd recieve any mail at wherever she moves to.) If I verify that my address is in the U.S. will I get shut out of my account again for being in Romania? - Now I can't even remember if Randall answered that one, but I think he seemed to think it would be fine.

Abruptly, I felt, he asked before we end this conversation can I help you with anything else?
I typed, Yes. Do you know if it's possible for me to buy anything over ebay since I just assumed you wouldn't accept a credit card from a Romanian ISP address. Is that true?

I can't help you with that this is the anti-fraud department. you'll have to contact half.com directly.

So more surfing of unhelpful Help pages in my future. The point I'm trying to make is that these companies don't seem to be set up to help real people in real situations. They seem prepared for crime and that's it. They can't comprehend when you're in a Not Crime situation that doesn't jive with their script. For the same reason I can't reach my credit card company with a question because the Call Collect outside the U.S. number doesn't work from my cell phone and guess what - Not even Romanians know how to use a Romanian pay phone! The same reason my debit card isn't accepted by the Obama campaign because my scary 25 dollars is coming from an internet connection outside the U.S.

I know these restrictions are set up to protect me from something, but sometimes they hurt more than they help. Anyway, I managed to keep the same password on my hotmail account for almost seven years with no problem. But you'll never guess my new password.

At the late night double feature picture show...
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

For my loyal readers out there you will notice I've long ago left off naming a Musical of the Month that I am listening to. That's because it occured to me that I don't listen to that many musicals. I have a handful of soundtracks and I loyally rotate between them. I'm not really one explore music that I don't already listen to. It takes me a long time to get used to a new soundtrack or a new group and for them to earn my trust. Usually one long road trip will do it, but I haven't had an occassion to go on a road trip with a bunch of different CDs for quite a while now, just my old standbys. Since I've had this blog for more than a year I figured how boring is it for you, my readers, to hear about me rotating back and fourth between the same dozen or so musicals without ever adding anything new?

That said, today it suddenly occurred to me that we're halfway through October and I haven't been listening to the Rocky Horror Picture Show (movie) Soundtrack constantly as I usually do every October. I don't know why I hadn't thought of listening to it. Maybe it's because I have no real plans to celebrate Halloween right now (I'll be watching Donnie Darko) or because Halloween isn't widely celebrated in Romania. Or maybe it's because I've been spending so much time on the computer I wanted to listen to something without words (the Lord of the Rings Two Towers sountrack, constantly - to the point that it's playing in my head even when I'm not listening to it).

Another volunteer told me he was working on putting on the second ever production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (movie + actors) to occur in Translyvania. The first was in June and I couldn't go. But when we talked about it in mid-September he mentioned doing some "traditional" Halloween activities before the Rocky Horror Preshow (de-virgin ritual) like bobbing for apples and telling ghost stories, before the audience went inside and was presented with a paper bag of things to throw a the screen and introduced the the World of Rocky.

Now, honestly Rocky Horror and Halloween have only one thing in common and that is costumes. Rocky has nothing to do with Halloween. Still, I was fantastically excited for Rocky "sometime around Halloween" despite the inherant irresponsibility of confusing for the Romanians in attendance "Halloween" and "Rocky Horror." One is really a celebration for children at the end of every October - the other is definately a celebration for adults that can take place every Friday night!

But I haven't heard back about a date for the Rocky Horror performance and I've already begun to believe it's not going to happen anytime soon. This saddens me because not only did I set the goal for myself of inviting a Romanian to Rocky Horror with me for the purpose of cultural amabassadorship - I actually found a candidate. (Don't get too excited, I have her number but I haven't actually spoken to her since August.)

My disapointment at the lack of Rocky in my October goes deeper too. I was really looking forward to going to this performance because, for me, it was a chance to do something normal. By that I mean something I would do at home. It's going to be a really weird Fall for me because I'm noticing I don't have time on my calendar to celebrate Thanksgiving, and I even though I've let Halloween slip through the cracks before without carving pumpkins, without getting dressed up. But to do nothing - at all! For two holidays in a row? To be surrounded by people who aren't even familiar with the holiday - makes me feel even farther from home than usual.

One time a friend told me about researching something so out there, so wacky, so far from her own experience that in order to have some sense of balance and normalacy while she looked up this information she had to listen to Hedwig and the Angry Inch to pull the world back into order. That's kind of how I feel about Rocky Horror.

Or perhaps that story better illustrates the kind of people I'm used to hanging out with at home.

Living in a culture that's foriegn to you it's rare that you have days when you feel totally like yourself; when you're not trying to fit into another culture, when you're not trying to decide what's appropriate and what isn't, when you're not asking yourself: how much of my honest thoughts and opinions can I reveal in this situation? What will happen if I really express myself, unfiltered? This is true even when hanging out with other Americans here. Sometimes there's a degree of "these are my friends, but not my friends from 'real life'." Some of us are keenly aware that we wouldn't be friends in the United States, or perhaps we could have been friends but it's likely some of us would never have met.

Of course, that's not the case with everyone.

To put it another way: I have to introduce a whole new group of people to the movie Velvet Goldmine, explain the three different drinking games and why you shout certain sentences at certain times (not just for Rocky Horror) but for every movie ("that sitar player does not love you!"). This is part of the reason I haven't watched any Lord of the Rings movies in seven months. Because no one here understands "that's what I see too, Sauroman, except I see it not so much you and I, but more like just I! Because I'm a giant EYE! Get it?"

And like most inside jokes when you explain them to new people they sound stupid, childish, and weird ("you baked a cake in the shape of what?"). You need to make new inside jokes rather than invite new people into your old inside jokes. And I haven't been good at that.

That's why I was so looking forward to Rocky Horror: the biggest inside joke ever! And looking forward to being with other people on the inside. The kind of people not afraid to get out their fishnets and Time Warp. The kind of people I could be friends with - on some level - wherever, whenever. Kind of like a family reunion.

It would be nice to see a movie with people who knew when to shout. Even if at the begining we shouted different things...

An Unexpected Journey
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

In general, there's not much that I do that's spontaneous. If I go to the store, I know what I'm looking for, and when I get back I start next week's grocery list. I don't go to the movie theatre without knowing what movie I want to see. I'm not one for spur of the moment changes of plans.

It's not that I don't like and appreciate spontaneity. It can be good when it doesn't throw your whole game off. When it doesn't leave you feeling nervous or powerless like you showed up to class without your homework done.

This weekend was filled with the good kind of spontaneity. On friday I was emailing a friend that yes, we should try to get together sometime this month - I think the last two weekends of the month I'm busy but this weekend I was looking forward to a repeat of the weekend before - getting some work done (maybe), studying Romanian for my tutor, watching movies on my computer and hopefully getting outside for some physical excercise at some point. (Sorry bicycle, it didn't happen again last week!) I emailed him my glamorous weekend end plans and he responded "I'll be at the train station at 8:30".

So we spent the weekend together. Where there once was one there now were two, and he got to meet Belladonna and tease me for babying her so much. Because I wasn't planning on having guests I didn't have a menu prepared, but he brought some brocoli and I got out the pesto my dad sent me in a care package and we did just fine with what was already in my cupboard. We watched and discussed some important movies and had a good time just hanging out.

The weather (cold and blowing rain) kept us in most of the day Saturday but by Sunday morning even I wanted to get out of the apartment and at least get a coffee. So we took our conversation to a local coffee shop featuring Italian deserts and had cannoli an tiramisu for breakfast.

After that we went for a walk to the bottom of the steps in the park in Deva. The steps used to lead all the way up the hill/mountain to the ruin of the ancient citadel at the top. It's Deva's best - most well known landmark.

I knew he had in mind as a goal for "someday" to hike to the top. It was important to him to accomplish the citadel without taking the elevator up the side of the mountain which is available for 5 lei. I wasn't sure that was doable. I set out to explore the stairs before - the day I discovered they don't go all the way up. They are steep and once they stopped the trails were unclear and I wasn't sure if I was in someone's back yard. Certainly I did want to hike to the citadel "someday" - but it wasn't on my calendar yet.

We marched to the top of the stairs and I consented to continue exploring the trail-less trails. Since I wasn't alone this time, the company was much better. He led me into a tunnel that went through part of the "mountain" and offered to let me hold his hand even though we could see the light from the other entrance even before we entered. Still I was not above giving his hand a slight squeeze when he gestured into an open cavernous blackness off to the left and said "I wonder what's going on over there." I responded: "this reminds me of when Sam and Frodo went into the tunnel near the pass of Cirith Ungol, only that was so dark they literally couldn't see anything at all. Sam and Frodo are really brave."

It wasn't the last of the LOTR references as we made our way up the winding path on the forested hillside, and climbed what seemed to be natural staircases of rock, all the while the veiw of the city spread out below us growing more and more breath taking and far away. Everytime I voiced concern about it being too steep, or uncertainity of the path we decided if it was too uncertain or too steep we would turn around. I was torn between wanting to scale the mountain, of course, and being unsure it could be done on a whim - without prior planning and the absolute resolve that Today is the day!

At one one point I looked up and thought I saw a house above us on the hillside. There were several trails beside the one we were on, but I still wasn't sure if we were in someone's backyard. A few steps later, I looked up to realize it wasn't the side of a house, it was the huge white letters that spell out Deva that I see everytime I look in the direction of the Cetatii. We were almost at the top! Funny thing is as we got closer to the citadel, the less we were able to see it. The last leg of the hike was through waste high weeds and nettle as we circled the structure unable to see where we needed to go toget in.

But we made it! And then explored the surface for a while - still not exactly sure when the fortress of Deva which accidentally exploded in a gunpowder accident was built. (Around 1300 is the best estimate though there are contradicting opinions.) We were waiting in line for the elevator down when I cast off all concern about peeing my pants and decided it was only right if we walked back down. I would hold it.

How do we get back where we were? -I don't know. Let's try this way?

We ended up making the journey down by a more direct and grandual path (paved, even) which we didn't know was there before. Our ascent had taken us on a path that spiraled around the mountian. And later I discovered on my first solo exploration I discovered this path about 1/3 of the way to the top - but uncertain, I turned back and went home.

So by the end of the day we were Master Trailblazers reaching the citadel without even including it in the day's itinerary. (And I did make it all the way back without wetting myself.) I did something I thought I couldn't do without weeks of training, encouraged and challenged to explore because I had someone with me. Someone who was also interested in finding the best path for our situation, not afraid to go on, not afraid to turn back. If not for the weekend's unexpected journey I probably wouldn't have accomplished the citadel until probably next spring or summer, but now that I know that there's a paved path that goes all the way up at a gradual incline, I'm tempted to stick Fellowship of the Ring and my discman with the any LOTR soundtrack in my pocket and make it a more-than-once-weekly hike. (If Bella gives me permission to leave her alone in the apartment, that is.)


These pictures of Deva were taken from the citadel the first time I went to the top during my site visit in April when I took the elevator with two women from my organization.

Whatever happening to protesting because it's Saturday and there's nothing else to do?
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Lately I have been reading about activists of the past. People who broke laws and were accused of breaking laws in defense of their ideals. I can't help but make the comparison to today and the war going on now and wonder who are the protesters and organizers? Who's responsibilty is this to express the dissatisfaction I hear so frequently? And more what am I, specifically, willing to sacrifice in the name of justice, fairness and equality?

Is it my career in the Peace Corps? Even though I'm doing something I feel I've always wanted to do. As frustrating and slow going as the work may be, as confused as I am about what I'm accomplishing or going to accomplish in two years I still think every day "wow. I'm in the Peace Corps."

And yet I told myself if things get bad enough I may have to go home and become and organizer for peace and justice - which includes among other things ending the war.

What is bad enough? Another war with Iran? Reinstating the draft? At what point do I set aside my goals I've set for myself and say, "ok, now I really have to get involved." If it means not having a paycheck and sleeping on someone's floor, I have to do somehting about this.

When?

I told someone once that at the rate we're going it's doubtful the U.S. will still be a superpower in 100 years. Then I read there are people who doubt we'll even be around in 100 years due to global climate change - and you've got to admitt if the effects we're seeing now are from pollution that occurred 30 years ago - that's pretty scary!

I wondered a while ago if the United States would be a superpower for my entire lifetime. Now I question whether it will remain a country. We are so divided as the recent Presidential veto showed us compromise illudes us. One more faceless victim of politics.

Think about it. If, with the state that the planet is in, we only have 100 years left - what do you owe your country? What do you owe humanity? What can we do in this crucial moment to best serve our country? What must we do? And what are we willing to do?

After that heartfelt editorial, I'll close with a movie quote. I don't know if Abbie Hoffman actually said this but it's in Steal this Movie (which you can watch for free at tv-links.co.uk and you should)

"It's always the young that make change. You don't get these ideas when you're middle aged. The young have daring creativity and engery. They have impatience. So you take your young legs, and your eagerness and your natural feelings for justice and peace and a better deal for our planet. And you go out and myou make tomorrow better than it is today. You go out and you save your country."

This is a Romanian Lesson,
or Why I will soon be insane
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I've wanted to post a Romanain language lesson on here for a long time, but I couldn't pick and appropriate one. Now I've started studying Romanian again with a new tutor. For those of you who've been keeping track, it's been a while since I cracked the books. Since June. So while I've been a bit rusty, nothing could have prepared me for learning the words for This, These, That and Those.

I was recently explaining to Nicole that Romanian has a masculine, and a feminine, singular and plural way of saying my. That's right four different words each mean My, Yours, Ours, and Theirs. That's 16 words where english has 4.

Now, I set out to learn the formal way of saying This, That, These and Those, because there is also an informal way of denoting all of these things. Then I found out that when a word comes before a noun it is something called a demonstrative adjective. "This bike is mine."
If it follows the word is or are - it is considered a pronoun "This is my bike" - and is also a different word.

I was supposed to practice these words for my tutor before today's lesson but I waited until the last minute and became hopelessly confused so this morning she had to explain it to me all over again. So today I wrote the following 16 sentences to practice these words. You'll see they have a theme that has to do with kitten either sleeping in my lap or trying to eat my pen as I wrote them. Anyway, I post them here for you as an example of the Romanian lanugage.They are to the best of my knowlege correct.

Acest pisic este al meu. This (male) cat is mine.

Acesta este piciscul meu. This is my (male) cat.

Această pisica este a mea. This (female) cat is mine.

Aceasta este pisica mea. This is my (female) cat.

Aeceşti pisici sunt ai mei. These (male) cats are mine.

Aeceştia sunt piscii mei. These are my (male) cats.

Aceste pisici sunt al mele. These (female) cats are mine.

Acestea sunt pisicele mele. These are my (male) cats.

Acel pisic este al meu. That (male) cat is mine.

Acela este pisicul meau. That is my (male) cat.

Acea pisica este a mea. That (female) cat is mine.

Aceea este pisica mea. That is my (female) cat.

Acei pisici sunt ai mei. Those (male) cats are mine.

Aceia sunt pisicii mei. Those are my (male) cats.

Aceste pisici sunt al mele. Those (female) cats are mine.

Acestea sunt pisicele mele. Those (female) cats are mine.

In case you're wondering a group of cats of mixed sex would be denoted with the male adjective or pronoun. And again, there's also an informal feminine and masculine for saying This, That, These and Those.

And now, just for fun - an ametuer translation.

"Toate am să povestesc la tine este această lanternă este luna, eu sunt barbatul în luna,
această tufă spinosă, tufă spinosă mea şi acest câine, câine meu. "

"All I have to tell you is that this lantern is the moon, I am the man in the moon,
this thorn bush, my thorn bush and this dog, my dog."
-A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act V, sc.1

And just because I can't resist...

Aceasta este pisicuţa mea şi mine - This is my kitten and me.

Recipe of the Week
or Maybe I should have gotten a job in a bakery
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

I'm crabby because I drank the decaf chai tea this morning. I have to ration my Good Tea from the U.S. (there is no chai spice tea in Romania) versus my Really Good Tea from the U.S. and this morning I judged Monday to be a sufficent enough occassion to warrant a bag of Stash brand Chai Tea (the best) but for some reason I went with the decaf which obviously should have saved for a last cuppa tea before bedtime kind of night.

Now having misused a valuable teabag put me in kind of a mood, but the mood was made worse by the fact that I have a grocery bag of apples that my gazda generously gave me from the apple trees at her country house. She also gave me a gallon of grapes that looked and tasted exactly like the grapes that used to grow in my babysitter's back yard. The ones the adults would say "don't eat those grapes - they're not good" meaning they're perfectly good they just have seeds in them and a soft mushy part in the middle and they're not like the South American grapes we buy in the grocery store.

But I digress. Matching the grapes that grew in my babysitter's backard to apples also strikingly similar to the same backyard apples we weren't supposed to eat. So I didn't know what to do with them except let them sit in a bag attracting fruitflies for a week and then on Sunday I decided with the help of a visiting friend to peel and core all of them and make apple bread.

Last night I decided two loaves of apple bread should be made immediately and I would make another loaf (or two) every day this week. And I have enough apples for it. I chopped enough apples last night while watching a movie to make 2 loaves today and I still have more apples to chop. Note: I would be chopping apples if I were making apple bread at home too because I've never had a CuisineArt but it's the first thing on the registry if I ever get married. Maybe I'll ask for two and then if one is dirty, I won't have to wash it, I can just use the other one...

It takes two cups of finely chopped apples to make a loaf of apple bread. This is doubling the recipe because Romanians don't have sweet breads and so they don't have bread pans. My bread pan is the size of your average Mack Truck and is really for a fat loaf of something called cozonac - the closest thing Romanians have to sweet bread. So 2 loaves of U.S. Apple bread = 1 loaf of apple bread in Romania. About the size of your average cement block.

I was hoping to freeze a bunch of loaves and eat apple bread for breakfast all winter until I run out and move on to something else for breakfast. But wouldn't that be awesome to never have to think What should I have for breakfast? No. Breakfast = done. Then I started thinking about all the wonderful things I could buy with apple bread currency. I should definately, of course, give a loaf to my gazda who was generous to give me her apples, and perhaps I could buy some homemade apple butter and two American* pumpkins from other volunteers. One pumpkin for a pie, the other for a stew grown from American pumpkin seeds by a volunteer ingenous enough to bring pumkin seeds to Romania without even knowing that the kind of pumpkins that grow here aren't sweet enough to be eaten by people.

The point I'm trying to make is that I have a lot of apple bread to make. I bought a kilo of flour and a kilo of sugar yesterday and another kilo each today, and if I stick to the two loaves a day plan, probabaly another kilo each tomorrow.

My oven - the one that needs a chair propped up in front of it to keep it closed and has two cracks in the glass door into which I've stuffed rags which are rapidly becoming a nice toasty brown color -varies so much in temperature it can take one loaf of bread between 50 and and hour and 20 minutes to bake.

And the size of my loaf pan (Mack Truck sized) versus the size of my oven (not garage size) means the bread inevitably comes out burnt on the bottom. This is OK if it comes out of the loaf pan nicely and I can just cut the burned part off, but the loaf I made last night decided to come out of the pan in the form of pure anarchy resulting in a blizzard of crumbs and resembling nothing that can be wrapped in aluminum foil, frozen or given away.
Sigh.

*I use the word "American" here to denote a pumpkin of North American origin because I realize that America is not one continent but two - and on one of those continents are quality pumpkins you can eat. The other one, I'm not sure about.

So one loaf is in the oven now, and I just swept the floor with the kitten fighting the broom every step of the way. But in non-food related news (I'm sorry I write so much about food. I promise my next blog entry will have something to do with the projects I'm actually working on over here.) Here are some mind teasers:

Do you think Joss Whedon knows his first name means "Down" in Romanian?

Did Andy from Toy Story grow up to be Andrew Beckett who dies of AIDS in Philadelphia? that would be ironic wouldn't it - considering Tom Hanks...?

I'm pretty sure the hat given to the kid in Transamerica is Jack from Brokeback Mountain's hat. (weren't paying that close attention were you?)

and for the Harry potter fans: If Harry's name is Harry James Potter, what do you think his son's middle name would be? James Harry? James Sirius? James Remus? What about James Dobby?

Whiskey in your water, Sugar in your tea?

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Here's an update on the grocery situation, although I'm sure no one cares. I had to buy eggs. I know it's not October yet and I don't really have any more money to spend on food, but you see I was a fool to start out with less than six eggs, so I allowed myself 1 additonal food purchase and it was a bag of eggs. Now when eggs come in a bag I assumed there were twelve. There were not. There were ten eggs which brought my egg total to 11 on Wednesday.

Today I noticed that one was cracked - so I was going to throw it away, but how do you throw away an egg? or more importantly where do you throw it because it you throw it in the trash it's just going to rot in the trash - and they don't let you bring that kind of thing to political events anymore. So I cracked it into a bowl, and judged it to be fine and added it to what was going to be an omlett but turned into scrambled egges. 3 egg scrambled eggs since I'd already cracked two when I decided to rescue Humpty Dumpty from the would-have-been-trash.

I also had to throw away the rest of my peppers. They have been living in the fridge since before I left for the habitat trip and though I got rid of the bad ones when I returned I managed to save the remainder for quite an additional while, perserving them by cutting them up and letting them float in a covered bowl of cold water in the fridge for an additonal two weeks, but when I noticed the water was cloudy it was time to ditch the peppers.

Without the benefit of peppers, my scrambled onion, cheese and tomato eggs will last me another meal along with the roast potatoes from the night before which were supposed to be potato wedges but they were overdone so this morning they were refried with onion. Sad how as I dished up this rather spectacular breakfast - though cold-ish since I only have one frying pan, I begrudged the early pioneers that they get to have coffee AND tea! An unfortunate by-product of uch a meal (and most meals, actually is I now have to wash every pot, pan, and dish I have!)

I've also noticed I'm rushing through my new jar of honey at quite an alarming speed despite my discovery of where to by honey for 6 lei as opposed to 9. I like a little honey in my tea, but since I have nothing to dish it out with but a teaspoon and you know honey, I probably use more than I should.

Even STASH brand Chai Tea (the best, in my experience) is better with a touch of honey or sugar, and better still with a splash of milk. But my milk spoiled since the only thing I use it for is a touch in my tea, and occasionally when I'm baking -or in oatmeal. I guess I don't use milk often enough to justify buying a new liter and a half. But I do miss a spot of milk in my tea....

What I'm saying is my food may not last me as long as I thought which means next month's budget is not going to be all the fun and games I dreamed it would be. Perhaps no areobic workout ball for me and maybe a Romanian copy of Harry Potter and the Philopher's Stone will have to be put on hold, yet again.

In non food news here's another picture of Bella I thought got posted last time, but I guess not...