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Published: March 8th 2011
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My family in Romania
Rodica, Nelu and Ioana After three busy days with Richard, I was anxious to get back on the open road. Richard had given up his ride to a side job he had so we could go camping. So I agreed to give him a ride 100 miles or so to this job in a small village, since it was on my way to my next stop, Oradea, Romania.. I dropped him off and after a couple of hours and a couple of wrong turns I finally ended up at the border crossing I was looking for.
Many of the countries I have visited have open borders with their neighboring countries. The trip to Romania would be my first border crossing where I actually had to stop and I was a bit apprehensive. There was no line there so I drove right up to the crossing.
The unsmiling guard took my paperwork and instructed me to stay in the car. He was probably gone ten minutes or so but it seemed like an hour or more. Eventually he came back and gave me my paperwork. I was relieved and said “Kosonom” (Hungarian for ‘thank you’. He looked at me sternly and said “The word
Inside the cave
My pictures don't do the cave justice. It was spectacular! here is ‘multumesc’. You are not in Hungary anymore.”
From there it was just a few miles to meet my next couchsurfing host, Rodica, her husband Nelu, and their little girl, Ioana. They live in a nice home in the city of Oradea, about the size of my hometown of Tacoma. Rodica said that would be hard to find her house so we agreed to meet at a gas station near where she worked.
I ended up there a couple of hours early so I decided to drive around the city while I waited. I really needed to pee so I kind of squeezed my way into a half a parking space and ran into shopping area that had a McDonald’s, figuring they were sure to have a bathroom there. Wrong. So here I was, with a problem of increasing urgency, going up and down stairs and escalators, listening to the Village People on the loudspeakers and I couldn’t find anyone that spoke enough English to be able to tell me where I needed to go. After a few minutes I resorted to the embarrassing international sign of distress (bent over, legs squeezed together and jumping up and
down) until someone was able to direct me to the correct….room. Bliss
Then it was back in the car to retrace my route to our meeting place except that somehow I got lost, a recurring theme in my travels, bringing back that oh so familiar feeling of panic. Eventually I found the gas station and sat down on the curb to wait. I had seen only one photo of Rodica on the internet so it was a little bit of a strange feeling to be peering into every car that drove up, wondering if the person inside would be my host for the next couple of days.
Soon another car pulled up and I recognized Rodica right away. She was right about her house being hard to find, it was all I could do to follow her through the city and I never would have gotten there myself.
I love couchsurfing. Rodica and her family were such very kind, generous and gracious hosts, relieving me of any fears instantly. Although I insisted on buying them dinner, restaurants were just not something on their radar and we had a wonderful meal at their home. Then it was off
to a scenic downtown area for a quick dessert and coffee. Back home for some tzuika, a traditional Romanian drink that was served at almost every meal and pretty much every other opportunity.
Rodica had to work each day I was there so Nelu had the duty of showing me around during the days. The first morning was great, seeing the local sights. Nelu kept saying his English was poor but we communicated very well and had a great time. In the afternoon I walked back into the city just to look around and found it all fascinating. Then I went back to the house and chopped wood for awhile while Nelu was off at Ioana’s swimming practice. I almost cut my toes off, bringing images of scary hospitals, so I switched around and put my fake foot in front.
The next day Nelu and I drove out in the country, making our first stop at a well known tourist attraction, the Pestera Ursilor caves. This was not something I expected to be particularly interesting but was I wrong. The story goes that there were 140 bears in the cave around 15,000 years ago and a slide sealed
Chopping wood
I'm glad I don't have to do that at home. the entrance. When the cave was discovered in 1983 it was full of these ancient bear bones. About five of us went on a guided tour (the guide spoke a little English!). The place was huge and I was fascinated by all the formations. After about 20 minutes the lights in the cave went out, leaving the cave in total darkness. The guide had two flashlights. He calmly gave one to us and used the other to go back a few hundred yards to replace the fuse for the lights. In about fifteen minutes he was back and we continued as if nothing had happened and we had no other incidents.
Our next stop was a very strange little roadside museum full of quirky little machines and displays about the Roma (Gypsies). Big US cars are so rare in Europe that one of the displays was a mid ‘70s Lincoln Continental.
Next came one of the highlights of the trip. We made a stop where Rodica’s mom (I think her name is Miruna) lives, on a small farm. Miruna was probably 75 years old and together with Rodica’s brother, still runs the farm. It would be difficult to
describe the reception we received. We were fed (with more tzuika of course) and taken on a wonderful tour of the farm, including a visit with their one cow. With Nelu translating I was told of how the family owned the farm for generations, how it was taken away when Romania became a communist country and how it was given back after Romanians began to gain some freedom about twenty years ago.
Here is my favorite story I heard that day. Every day Miruna would milk their lone cow. At one point she had to go to the hospital in the city for about a week. When she was in the hospital her son was sent to milk the cow. The cow didn’t like this change. She would kick and move around, making it impossible for her to be milked. Apparently, it is painful for a cow not to be milked for long periods of time so this was quite the dilemma. Finally Miruna’s son put on one of his mom’s dresses and shawls and went out to milk the cow. This disguise worked great and he was able to milk the cow every day until Miruna was recovered enough to resume the milking.
As has happened a couple of times before in my travels, we were having such a good time that I ended up staying there for three nights, one more than the arranged two.
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