Romania final chapter

Romania final chapter

Well pooh, I woke up in the night unable to breathe through my nose and knew the cold that had been sending subtle warnings to me the last couple of days had arrived in full force. I got up and fumbled through our medicine pouch until I found the Afrin spray, took half of a sleeping pill and went back to sleep. With just two days left of our European adventure I was hoping for once I wouldn’t get sick. Paul never gets sick on our travels and I always come down with some malady it seems.

I liked the pedestals they had attached to the wooden wheel to sit their flower pots on

This morning, Paul and I go down to the courtyard and sit on the bench in front of the main house. Paul is checking on emails and I am admiring the unique ways that Dorin and Ileana have planted flowers in old antiques. We go into breakfast at eight and Dorin serves cheese, bread along with an eggplant spread, juice and of course tea. Ileanna has already left for work so Dorin is in charge of our breakfast.

Paul checking out the garden behind the house

After we have eaten, the four of us go to the area behind the house and look at the large garden where various kinds of vegetables are being grown. There is a fence between the garden and a grassy area. Here Dorin keeps two sheep, two pigs and a small flock of chickens. Dorin turns the chickens and pigs out of their pens and the pigs happy to be free, go for a gallop around the grassy lot. The sheep are too busy eating grain to pay attention to us.

Breakfast time for the two sheep

Dorin turning the chickens and pigs out

This morning we are driving to a sheepfold to visit a family who are good friends of Daniels. We are cruising along enjoying the picturesque winding road when Daniel stops by a group of men that are taking a break from working on the road. After Daniel chats briefly with the men, he tells us that they have informed him the road is closed up ahead so we will have to backtrack and take a different route. Was there a road sign announcing “closed road”? Nope, Daniel just noticed that he wasn’t meeting any cars and found this unusual. Now that is observant because I never gave it a second thought!

The alternate route takes us through a village where an outside market is taking place and we stop to take a look. As we wander along the line of tents we find that nearly all of the vendors are selling shoes or clothing. Although we only look at the items for sale the vendors are doing a brisk business with the locals. We walk across the street to a small farmers market. There aren’t a lot of stalls but there is a wide variety of produce for sale. Vegetables, fruits, flowers, chickens, and what appear to be herbs, but the roots are still attached so I don’t know if they are to be used in cooking or to be replanted in one’s garden.

That is a lot of apples!

Filling a sack with strawberries that Daniel bought

Daniel looks the offerings over and decides to buy some items for the sheep herders. Daniel buys a sackful of cucumbers, some lovely plump strawberries, ripe tomatoes, apples, and we stop at a store to buy some bottles of beer. All of this is stashed in the trunk and we continue on our way.

Daniel and Paul seem to be discussing the cabbages

That is a big sack of cucumbers.

We are climbing in altitude and we reach the beautiful village of Jina (maybe we bought the beer here) where Daniel parks the car because we are going to walk to the sheepfold from here. That means all the produce Daniel purchased has to be carried to the family’s’ farm which Daniel assures us isn’t too far away. Paul places two bottles of beer in his daypack (they are 1 liter each) along with our water, plus he is able to put a couple other items that Daniel bought in the pack. That leaves Daniel carrying two heavily laden sacks while I am given responsibility for the bag of strawberries.

I had to take a photo of this gentleman and his hat as he was walking in Jina

The three of us walk down a street in Jina which leads out into the country. The dirt road with green meadows on either side is an uphill climb. As we trudge along I swear the weight of the sacks Daniel is carrying have lengthened his arms by an inch or so! There is strawberry juice beginning to accumulate in the bottom of the plastic sack that I am holding and I voice my concern that by the time we reach the shepherds place the ripe berries will be nothing but mush. I’m not sure how far we have walked but Paul offers to spell Daniel and take on the bulging bags of food, to which Daniel agrees. The two men continue to take turns in lugging the gift of produce for the remainder of our hike. I figured out that I can take some of the pressure off the strawberries by letting the sack sit on top of my camera bag, and although a bit awkward, this helps to prevent the crushing of the berries. The bad news is that I couldn’t take any photos of the human mules:).

The road we walked and the village of Jina in the background

Paul and I estimate we have walked about two miles as we approach the family abode. We turn left off the main road onto a less traveled track where the shepherds property is located. We happen to meet a neighbor at this point and he tells us the family has moved to their other property for the summer. Luckily the other place is across the road and not much farther to walk. It isn’t long before we reach the gate that leads into the sheepherder’s property and we walk through the pasture to the tiny cabin that the family calls home. Ileana (yep, the same name as the woman at the guesthouse) and Dinu welcome us and invite us into their one room house. The couple’s handsome teenage boys, Gabi and Nicu, appear at the door and look curiously at the foreigners who have come to visit. (I hope I have the names right but someone’s writing is a bit hard to make out).

What a view

This seems to be the only photo of the family’s place. The barn is to the right and the house to the left. What a backdrop! Paul’s photo

Gabi and Nicu checking out the Americans

After introductions, Daniel converses briefly with his friends and then pulls out some photos another client took of the family when he visited this gorgeous area. Oh yeah, Daniel was carrying the large envelope of photos on our trek here too! The prior visitor has taken some wonderful photos of the family and they are all quite taken with the pictures, often exclaiming out loud and smiling broadly as they study the photos. When they have finished looking at the photos, Paul digs our photo book out of his pack to show it to our hosts. The photo book proves to be a hit with the foursome and questions are asked and answered about various pictures in the book via Daniel.

Enjoying the photos that Daniel brought the family

Ileana and Gabi (I think) looking at our photo book. Paul’s photo

Ileana begins to prepare lunch, (after we have had some horinca of course) and since there are seven of us in the 8X12, (estimated by Paul); room there is no sense in trying to lend a hand as we would just be bumping into one another. It is amazing that four people live in this small space, particularly when two of them are fast growing teenagers! A small dining table sits at one end of the room, two narrow beds are opposite each other against the walls, a small table at the foot of one bed holds the three-burner portable gas stove that Ileana cooks on, and there is a cupboard sitting at the foot of the other bed. Talk about cozy!

Besides the neat old chair notice the stove in the background with the beer sitting In front of it.

Slicing bread. Why Black and white photos? Because the light coming in the windows was so harsh my color photos were not good. I let the computer change them to black and white to try and salvage them

Ileana places a pot of water on to boil and places the beef or pork links that Daniel also brought into the pan. Ileana begins slicing the loaf of bread and Paul takes a photo of her so Ileana jokingly brandishes the knife at Paul, which makes us all laugh. A large block of cheese is placed on the table along with a bowl filled with cucumbers and another dish full of tomatoes. When the meat has cooked the links are placed on the table along with a plate containing pieces of lard. There are only six places set at the table and Ileana watches as the rest of us help ourselves to the food. Paul is peeling a cucumber for the two of us and I am attempting to cut my meat up when one of the boys says something to Daniel. Daniel informs us that both of us are using the wrong edge of the small paring like knives. Well, that is embarrassing, but it really was hard to tell which side of the knives had the sharp edge.

Part of our lunch. Paul’s photo

Daniel waiting to begin the meal

Paul and I both notice that Dinu used his pocket knife to cut up his food and he also impales the food on his knife point using it as a fork when eating the meat. Paul said the boys also used their pocket knives though I did not notice that. I did notice that the three would nearly cut off a bite of bread or piece of lard with their knives before finishing by biting the piece off with their teeth. It was really fascinating to watch this way of eating. When the six of us are nearly finished eating, Ileana puts a large bowl of the strawberries we brought on the table. Paul and I play it safe and don’t eat them but the other diners certainly enjoy them. However, someone makes a comment to Daniel about the condition of the berries. Daniel tells Paul and I that he told them that I was given the responsibility of carrying the strawberries so the bruised and smushed strawberries were my fault! Ha! When the rest of us have finished eating, Ileana sits down and has her lunch. I felt bad that she didn’t eat with us and I don’t know if that is the custom or if there just wasn’t room at the table for her.

Ileana finally gets to eat as Dinu talks on his cell phone. The slices of lard can be seen in the foreground.

There was one more surprise during lunch, though by now Paul and I should expect this, and that was when Dinus’ cell phone rang. Shortly after Dinus’ phone call, Ileana’s phone rang and then after lunch we found the boys, laying in the grass either texting friends or playing games on their cell phones! I don’t think there is any place in the world anymore where cell phones can’t be found!

The boys using their cell phones. Paul’s photo

The boys going after the milk cows

Taking the cows to water

The two boys have to gather the four milk cows the family is keeping for another owner for the summer, and drive them to the community well for water. Paul, Daniel, and I decide to tag along. One boy walks in front of the cows while the other boy is trailing the docile beasts and we join the queue. The water source is perhaps a quarter-mile away where the system is housed in a tin building. A hollowed out log like those in Viscri is sitting outside the building for the shepherds to water their livestock. The cows drink a little water but they seem more intent in exploring their surroundings which sends one of the boys running downhill to corral the ring leader and herd the cows back to the water trough. When it is obvious that the cows have had their fill of water the youngsters begin herding the cows back home.

The cows drinking out of the hollowed log trough

The cows didn’t want to go back home.

Daniel, Paul and I decide to hike farther down the road to enjoy the countryside and the spectacular views no matter which direction you look. From one hilltop we can see Jina in the distance, the white church shining like a beacon, as it sits on the highest point of the village. At another place on our trek, Daniel shows us the general area where a monastery sits hidden by the trees far below us. Turning back, we walk a different road where a valley spreads out below us sprinkled with houses and numerous conical haystacks. This country is just stunning.

Paul and Daniel relaxing

Walking and enjoying the views

Paul makes use of his walking sticks while taking in the scenery

Upon our return to the sheepfold, Gabi and Nicu, are in a game of soccer with two other boys. Gabi and Nicu are playing in their rubber boots and it is amazing how they can manipulate the soccer ball despite the awkward footwear. Ileana is milking the one cow that has a calf, the other three cows are not far from calving. We go out to take a look and are surprised to see the baby calf is nursing one side while Ileana is milking out the other side of the cow. That certainly saves time.

Soccer game in progress

Ileana milks while the cow’s baby calf nurses.

Once Ileana is finished milking and has shooed the cow back with her herd mates, we all gather on the porch of the house. Daniel, Paul, and Dinu are sitting on the bench next to the house when they begin trying on each other’s hats, Gabi(I think) grabs Paul’s hat and joins the trio as I snap photos. Ileana not to be left out dons my hat and squeezes in among the guys and I laughingly take pictures.

A variety of hats!

Dinu rises to his feet and tells Daniel he must take the sheep to water and invites us along. I decline the invitation saying that I am walked out, reminding my companions that we leave this special place to drive back to the guesthouse. Paul and Daniel forego the invitation too, saying it is time that we head back to the guesthouse. We do walk to the gate to watch the flock of sheep being driven out of the pasture by the boys while Dinu walks in front of his flock. Once the wooly sheep are out in the road the boys go back to the house while Dinu leads the sheep to water by himself. Daniel hollers at Dinu who turns to face us and we wave goodbye. Ileana accompanies us down the road for a few minutes and then we say thank you and goodbye to this friendly woman. What delightful people and what a wonderful way to spend our last full day in Romania!

The family’s sheep across the road.

Dinu with his flock following him to water

One of the boys walking back to the house

This evening at supper we naturally begin the meal with a brandy glass full of horinca. I have seen Daniel look down at his arm after he has taken a drink of the liquor before and declare that he is watching to see if the hair on his arm is standing up. I don’t know if the hair rising on his arm is a test of the quality of the horinca but I figured he was pulling our leg about his arm hair reacting to the liquor anyway. Tonight I look at his arm too and I’ll be darned if the hair doesn’t lift up. Yikes, that should tell you about the potency of this stuff. I also realized at the sheepfold that after I had a couple sips of horinca that the symptoms of my cold had lessened. Tonight, much to Paul’s astonishment, I drink about half of my glass of white lightning, (slowly) in hopes that it will alleviate my stuffy nose and head. Daniel assures me that horinca is very medicinal. I don’t know if it is coincidence or not but this is the most short-lived and mildest cold I can remember having.

Dorin, a very funny story teller!

After supper, Dorin tells us some stories, the guy is really funny, and the one I remember the most is the tale of his baptism. According to his mom when he was dipped in the baptismal fount he created his own fountain which happened to baptize the baptismal book the minister was holding. Dorin tells the story while on his feet and he is very animated while reciting the tale which has us howling with laughter.

After supper, we meet the couple’s son for the first time and we visit with the young man briefly. Dorin brings out his hat and his father-in-laws hat and eventually everyone in the group has tried on the hats and posed for photos while wearing them. Despite the fun we are having the day’s activities are catching up with Paul and I and we bid a reluctant good night to everyone.

Paul and I hoisting our glasses of “medicinal” horinca

Ileana modeling one of the hats

There is no need to rush around this morning as we don’t have to be at the airport until mid-afternoon. After breakfast, Paul and Daniel work to get us checked in online using Daniels laptop as our tablet isn’t cooperating. After loading our luggage we say so long to our gracious and funny host Dorin and ask him to relay our thanks to his wife.

Paul had two “Eat Beef” hats left and these guys look good in them! Dorin really wanted Paul’s Setson but it was much to large for him. Paul’s photo

Daniel takes us to one last historical place, Alba Carolina fortress which was built in the 1700’s to defend against the Ottomans. Prior to the fortress this place was known as Alba Luila which was a military and economic center during the Roman occupation.

Playing the part at Alba Carolina

As we get ready to walk through what is known as the third gate a man dressed in a guard uniform of the 17th century is patrolling the entrance with his musket hoisted upon his shoulder and stops so I can take a photo of him. Once we enter the square we see several life sized bronzes depicting people from the 16th century scattered around e area. Many monuments have been built here over the years, including one of Michael the Brave sitting astride his steed. We visit two more cathedrals, one being the Romano Catholic Cathedral built in the 15th century. As usual the Cathedrals are beautiful inside and out.

Two bronze gentlemen conversing on the street

Michael the Brave and some of Alba Carolina

It is time to move on and the highway takes us through an area where sheer rock cliffs dot the landscape. Daniel stops at a restaurant/hotel for lunch where we look over the rugged landscape while we eat. Daniel treats us to a dessert called papanasi insisting we can’t leave Romania without eating this traditional dish. I can still taste the fried pastry that is filled with a sour cream and jam. Out of this world.

Our view while eating lunch.

Daniel delivers us to the airport and walks into the terminal to make sure our flight is on time. We say goodbye to Daniel and thank him for the excellent time we had touring Romania with him. Enough can’t be said for Daniels willingness to go the extra mile to do the extra things we asked of him. Both Daniel and Cornelia were a huge part of making our Romania adventure such a success!

Our flight from Romania to Luton airport in England went off without a hitch and our driver that is taking us to our hotel near Heathrow is waiting for us. We begin to see signs along the main highway about all the long delays on various routes to the airport but our driver is savvy enough to get off on side roads and a couple of hours later our driver pulls up at our hotel.

After a good night’s sleep, Paul and I are lounging in the room thinking our flight leaves in the middle of the afternoon. Paul decides to check to see if our flight is still on time and discovers that we fly out at 12:45! Holy Smokes, it is a good thing Paul checked when he did. We pack up, check out and go outside the hotel to wait for the free bus that will take us to our terminal. While standing at the bus stop, I hear someone singing the song “I had the time of my life” behind us. Turning around I discover that two teenage Muslim girls are the vocalists. Remember that this song was playing in the restaurant where we ate on our first day in Romania. Weird, and to make it weirder the crummy movie I watch on the way home from Europe ends with this song playing during the credits. Well I guess this was a good theme song for our travel to Europe.

Our flight out of London was delayed for more than two hours and Paul and I knew we weren’t going to make our connecting flight in Dallas. When we did land in Dallas the flight attendant told us that we were lucky to have made it here as our plane landed as one thunderstorm moved out and another one was getting ready to move in. The airline put us in a hotel for the night and luckily we were able to fly to Manhattan the next morning.

When we left Kansas we were wondering if we would have much hay to put up. When we arrived home Paul and I were amazed at the lush, green landscape where ponds that were worryingly low on water were now running out the trickle tubes. It is always good to come home but this time with the drought seemingly broken it was especially wonderful. Nancy

Dinu wearing Paul’s Stetson

This young man isn’t camera shy.

You can just make out the hat pin with the American flag and Kansas flag pinned to Gabi’s(I think) hat. Paul’s photo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 7

Lonely church. Photo taken as we were driving

Romania part 7

Daniel drives us out of the peaceful village of Viscri and the next stop on our Romanian journey is the city of Sighisoara. More beautiful landscape lies between Viscri and Sighisoara. A flock of sheep is sprinkled like puffy marshmallows across a green knob of a hill. A colorful herd of cattle grazes above a lonely church whose only company is the cemetery studded with crosses.

Looking across Sighisoara from the clock tower

We arrive in the German Saxon city of Sighisoara where Daniel parks the car, pays the parking fee and we begin to climb many stairs that will take us to the Medieval Stronghold that is referred to as the Citadel. The Citadel is the historic center of Sighisoara.  We tour the 13th century clock tower which houses a small but interesting museum of history. Once we have perused the items ranging from old clothes to beautiful furniture, we climb more stairs that lead to the guard walk where we enjoy a 360 degree view of Sighisoara from on high. The lofty perch doesn’t disappoint as we gaze over the clay-tiled roofs of the city. On the street directly below us the people look like miniature figures as they go about their business.

Looking down at the street where the people looked like miniature figures

Plaques showed the kilometers to various cities. I couldn’t find Alma so had to settle for New York

We return to ground level and Daniel takes us to a unique covered staircase built-in the 1600’s to shelter teachers and students from bad weather as they walked to school. The covered staircase, containing 172 steps, also leads us to the church on the hill and its cemetery. Arriving at the Church on the hill, slightly out of breath, we pay a small fee to enter the church and are told that no photos are allowed. The inside of the church is cavernous and as all churches we have visited quite beautiful. It occurs to me that Paul and I have been inside or near more churches in Romania and England on this trip than we have been in churches at home for the past ten years or more!

I loved the cobblestone streets

Leaving the church we walk through the shaded cemetery before entering the city again where Daniel leads us down narrow cobblestone streets that are lined with brightly colored houses. Upon reaching a small park the three of us decide to sit and relax on a wooden bench. After a bit I find the sunlit bench too warm so I move to a bench that is shaded by a tree. A woman is walking by and begins to speak to me in Romanian. I just smile and say, “American”. The woman gets completely flustered and puts her hand up to her cheek and says “sorry, so sorry”. I’m not sure if the lady meant she was sorry for thinking I was Romanian or that she felt sorry for me because I was an American:).

Paul and Daniel relaxing in the small park

Our next stop is Biertan, a small village that is famous for its enormous 16th century fortified church built by the German Saxons. This imposing structure has three defensive walls surrounding it and neither Paul nor I took a photo of the imposing structure!!  When we arrive at the church entrance we find that we have arrived during the staff’s lunch hour and the church is closed! Well this is a bit disappointing but we are still able to walk the church grounds which are quite impressive and from atop this hill we are able to look over the quaint village of Biertan. We also visit with a young man who is working on restoring the frame of a window; in fact there is a lot of restoration work being done here. The craftsman speaks English quite well and we find out he also does some guiding for tourists too.

Young man that was repairing window panes.

This interesting structure was on the grounds of the Fortified Church in Biertan

Looking over Biertan from the hilltop where the church was

As we continue on our journey we make a quick stop at a roadside farm store which consists of tables full of wares along with items piled on the ground. The tables and the shirtless proprietor are shaded by a blue plastic tent top. The man has about everything a farmer might need by the looks of it. There are horseshoes, chains, buckets, bolts, tools, pitchforks, wooden handles and on and on. Paul had wanted to see a farm supply store in Romania, he just hadn’t figured on one that was moveable!

This store owner manning his moveable farm supply store

Farm supply store

Daniel, knowing how interested Paul and I are in agriculture and that we raise Angus cattle, has arranged for us to visit an Angus ranch, one of two (I think) in Romania. Again it takes us out of the preplanned route but Daniel seems to enjoy visiting places that he hasn’t been to and is ever gracious about taking these side tours. Mountains are visible again but these big boys have much more snow on them then the other mountains we were near. On our way to the ranch we see a deer walking in the distance through a field and I zoom in on the animal to get a photo that verifies our sighting!

Beautiful mountains

There really is a deer in this photo

Daniel has called ahead just prior to our arriving at the ranch and a young man, who doesn’t look all that pleased with having to entertain visitors, is waiting for us next to the house. The snowy mountains make quite a back drop to the ranch with the green pastures in the foreground. We spot a Black Angus cow among a mixed herd but the young man says that those are the neighbor’s cattle. The ranch hand takes us to the finishing shed where there are several red Angus bulls mixed in with crossbred bulls and a whole bunch of young water buffalo. These odd-looking critters try to compensate for their poor eyesight by pointing their noses into the air as the intently peer in our direction.

The Angus ranch we visited

Black Angus cow in neighbors pasture

Daniel is busy translating questions to and answers from our young guide as we curiously ask about the ranch. We are told that all the animals in this feeding floor are being raised to provide meat for the restaurants owned by the rancher. The rancher raises and fattens the beef, has a locker plant on the ranch to butcher the finished animals, and then sells the meat through his restaurants. There are absolutely no middle men in this ranch to plate operation. Eventually we run out of questions for the young fellow, who does manage one delightful smile during the whole time we are there, so we thank him for his time and leave the beautiful ranch behind.

Our guide around the ranch

Red Angus bull soon to be fare at the restaurant the ranch owns.

Daniel is taking us to Sibiu so we can walk through the city’s historical center and since the Angus ranch has a restaurant in Sibiu, we decide to eat dinner there.  It is a little early for dinner when we arrive in Sibiu so Daniel takes us to an open air museum that has displays of different houses, machinery, and windmills etc. depicting ways of life in the past. The large park has a walkway that is tree-shaded and a small lake is situated in the middle of the park adding to the pleasant atmosphere. There is hardly anyone else in the park which is also a plus. Many of the historic houses have been locked up for the day although we are able to enter one or two. My favorite part of the open air museum was the different types of windmills we saw.

Windmills at the open air museum

After our visit to the Open Air Museum we are ready for dinner.  We enter the restaurant which is called Hermania and the main room is airy and comfortable with its high ceiling, fireplace, and a bar in one corner. A few customers are dining in this room but Daniel takes us to a second area which is more casual. Most of the tables are full of locals who are chatting, eating and drinking. Paul and I decide to share a meal of sliced steak that is cooked in a cream sauce. The meal is very tasty although the meat is on the chewy side, which doesn’t surprise us as the bulls we saw were probably one and half years old. Also, if we understood correctly, the beef is not aged like our homegrown beef is. It was fun to follow-up our ranch visit by eating at the ranch’s restaurant. You have to admire such an enterprise.

The main dining room at Hermania restaurant. Paul’s photo

Daniel drives us to the old part of the city and we wander into a city square lined with historical buildings. People are strolling the square or sitting around enjoy each other’s company. As Daniel explains what the different buildings were in the past and what they are now, he points out some odd structures on the roofs of some of the buildings. I tell him the roof structures creep me out and Daniel laughs because evidently many people have this reaction to the weird roof fixtures. I can’t remember exactly what the air vents are called but they are likened to eyes that are watching you, and they do appear to be staring at you.

Creepy eyes on the roof of this house

We leave this lovely square and walk into an adjacent city square where even more people are promenading. There is a band playing lively music that makes the little children dance and jump to the tune. We stay for a couple of musical numbers and join in with the rest of the people in giving well deserved applause to the band members when they finish playing a song. Daniel takes us to a bridge that is humorously called the “bridge of lies” because many people become engaged and make promises to each other that most supposedly don’t keep. There are a lot of padlocks fastened to the bridge with the lover’s initials written on them. We saw this practice of padlocks cementing ones devotion to each other in Russia too.

One of Sibius’ city squares

We enjoyed listening to this band. They were really good.

Padlocks on the Bridge of Lies

We still have a ways to drive before we reach the guesthouse so we must leave Sibiu. I really liked this city as it had a small town feel to it similar to what we experienced in Cusco, Peru. It is late when we arrive at Ileana the guesthouse where we will spend our last two nights in Romania. Our host opens the gate for us and Daniel drives in and parks the car in front of the house. Dorin shows us to our rooms and invites us down for a nightcap. It is late and Paul and I are tired so at first we refuse the invitation but upon seeing a look of surprise on our hosts face at our refusal, we change our mind.

When we have deposited the luggage in our room we exit this wing of the guesthouse, walk back to where the car is parked where the entrance for the main house is. Dorin takes us into the dining room and a bottle of Horinca except in Transylvania the home-brewed liquor is called Palinea or Plinca, (I have both versions written down and I’m not sure if either is right), is set before us. Dorin’s wife Ileana and the girlfriend of their son are also joining us in the nightcap. We all raise our glasses, heartily say “Noroc”, and take a sip or in some peoples’ cases a gulp of the white lightning. I must be getting used to this alcohol because I don’t gasp quite as loudly and my eyes aren’t watering too badly. We visit with our friendly hosts and find that Dorin has quite a sense of humor. Dorin and the young woman (whose name I have forgotten) both speak English, Dorin fairly well and the young woman is fluent. We learn that she is a translator for a couple from Texas, who are ranchers that have purchased a house in Romania. The couple visited here a few years ago and fell in love with the culture and the country so they live here for part of the year. I can perfectly understand their decision to do this! Finally, we say goodnight and leave this pleasant company to retire for the night.  Nancy

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 6

Romania part 6

Viscri villager

Paul and I check emails, look at photos, wash out some socks, and take a short nap after lunch. At three o’clock we meet Daniel in the back yard of the guest house and Daniel leads us towards a part of Viscri we haven’t toured yet. It is still hot and by the vacant streets we are traveling everyone else must be hiding in their houses from the heat. We turn off the main street of Viscri and after walking a few blocks we turn onto another side street. We are on the outskirts of the village and the houses are a bit ramshackle here. Up ahead we see a horse lying flat on its side and from here it appears that the animal isn’t breathing. Gosh I hope the horse isn’t dead. We are nearly parallel to the prone horse before the animal responds to the noise of our approach and lurches to its feet. Thank goodness!

One area of the blacksmiths property

I am grateful when we reach the blacksmiths house because I am quite hot by now. The blacksmiths place looks similar to all the villagers’ homes we have seen during our travels in Romania. There is a house and several outbuildings used for livestock or other possessions, and the property is surrounded by a wooden fence. The blacksmith, who is a gypsy as was the brick maker, also has an old-fashioned well where you drop the bucket into the well and winch it back up after filling the bucket full of water.

An old way of getting water out of a well

After introductions, the blacksmith, who walks with a bit of a swagger, leads us to a small shed outfitted with an old hand bellow that points toward a simple iron table, (the table looks a little like a barbecue grill minus the hood), where a small fire is contained by two bricks on each side of it. There are hammers and other smithing instruments stuck through a handmade tool holder on the left of the forge. This puts the tools within easy reach of the craftsman as he works at the forge. Around the other two sides of the shed there is a roughly made wood plank shelf with various items scattered on them plus there are tools hanging from the walls.

Stoking the small fire

The smithy, a cigarette hanging from his lips, starts a small fire between the bricks and begins to work the bellows to fan the flame. Pretty soon the sparks begin to fly as the fire glows hot. The blacksmith picks up a long, slender piece of iron with his bare hand and places one end of it in the flames while pumping the bellows with his other hand. It isn’t long before the iron subjected to the fire is glowing red and the man moves to the anvil where he begins flattening the hot end of the iron. Once this is accomplished the smithy then bends the malleable metal into a miniature horse shoe. The craftsman works so fast that my camera only captures the movement of the hammer in a blur of motion as he pounds on the iron.

Flattening the hot metal with a hammer which only shows up as a blur

The wife of the blacksmith must help in one aspect of making the horseshoe. The petite woman uses a big hammer to hit a sharp-edged tool her husband is holding with one hand on the horseshoe and with his other hand he grips a pair of tongs that are gripping the horse shoe. Now that is called trusting your partner! After finishing touches, such as cutting small slits and bending the ends of the horseshoe, the man presents the tiny horseshoe to us as a gift. We thank him for the good luck gift and then buy a hand wrought hook the man has crafted so we can have a unique hook to hang up the horseshoe on in our house.

A big hammer for such a petite woman to handle

Putting on finishing touches

The finished product

The daughter of the blacksmith and a neighbor boy, (who has a nasty cough poor thing) have been present for this demonstration. Paul fishes a ball point pen out of his pack and gives it to the pretty little girl, while giving the boy a small hatpin depicting  the Kansas and USA flag. Paul gives an “Eat Beef” logoed hat for the Blacksmith who gladly accepts it and he asks Paul if he has another hatpin. Paul does and presents the pin to the man who attaches the flag pin to the hat. The blacksmith proudly places the hat on his head and poses for a photo with me.  As we are leaving, the wife and a neighbor woman try to sell us some wool slippers but we politely say no thank you. After thanking the couple for their time, we step back into the street. The smithy, sporting his new hat, walks out with us. A man is standing up to his chest in a huge hole that has been dug in the street(I suppose they are digging up a water line) and the smithy walks over to him, talking and pointing to his hat. It is obvious he is quite delighted with the gift from Kansas.

The Blacksmiths’ daughter

Sporting his new cap with the hat pin.

Posing with the Blacksmith. Paul’s photo of course

We continue on our walk and follow the road out of Viscri. The road takes us by more dwellings and a few grazing horses. After a bit we leave the road and begin hiking in the open range taking time to look at some of the plants and flowers we encounter. A man driving a horse hooked to a wagon that is holding a pile of logs passes by us and Daniel calls out to him. Daniel has asked him to stop because the Fortified Church happens to be in the background and Daniel wants to photograph the rugged fellow. The man willingly turns his head the way Daniel requests as though he is used to posing for complete strangers. The sweaty horse stamps his legs restlessly as the flies are biting the poor beast and when the three of us are finished snapping photos the man relaxes the reins and the horse eagerly clipclops off towards his destination.

The logger we met on our walk

A willing subject for our photos

Our path back to Viscri leads us over hills and down to a small stream where kids have left bare foot prints in the mud. We end up at the bottom of the hill where the massive fortified church stands and soon we are back in the village. By now all of us are ready for a beer on this hot afternoon so we go to Viscri 125, (the guesthouse where we ate supper last night) and order three beers. We sit outside on the patio and enjoy our cold brew as the early evening brings some respite from the days’ heat. Two employees are adjusting a sprinkler in the weed free garden that is located a few yards from the back door of the restaurant. There is a group of men working at rebuilding a barn the young owners of Viscri 125 bought, disassembled and moved next to their guesthouse. Some of the men are placing rocks on the half-erected walls while others are sealing the stones in with mortar. Another man, probably the low man on the totem pole, is breaking rocks by pounding on them with a large sledge-hammer. Occasionally the shirtless man raises a large rock over his head and slams it down on the other rocks in an effort to break up the stubborn stones. Paul can’t help himself and wanders over to the construction site but the men don’t seem comfortable with him so close to the action so he returns to our table and his beer. Personally, I think Paul probably could have given the work crew some pointers as the work looks a bit sloppy to me.

Paul watching the wall building crew

This guy preformed this Herculean task several times while we enjoyed our beer

We are eating dinner at our guesthouse tonight and Ojens’ wife has prepared sarmale for us which is diced and spiced pork wrapped in a cabbage leaf. Daniel warns us not to eat too much of the sarmale as it is very rich. He relates the story of one client who didn’t heed his warning and the person was so miserable the next morning they had to cancel their morning plans! Well, it is easy to see how one could keep eating the sarmale because it is absolutely delicious. I manage to control myself and stop after two pieces but Paul eats at least three helpings of the tasty dish.

Ojen with what is left of the sarmale

Paul and I decide to go out to the main street and wait for the shepherd to bring everyone’s livestock home. Daniel says normally the animals show up around 8:30 but tonight the mixed herd and the shepherd are running late. The people of the village are sitting in front of their houses as the light is fading away and I wonder if they are just enjoying the coolness of the evening.  It is past nine when the herd can be seen coming up the road at the far end of the village. Paul and I soon figure out why everyone is waiting outside their houses, they are literally waiting for the cows to come home!

A small portion of the animals coming back to town after grazing all day

Paul and I watch in astonishment as cows, horses, sheep and goats reach their owners homes and turn in the gate as their owners take stock :). The people next to where we are standing watch as first one, then two and eventually a third cow walk through the open green gate.  Pretty soon the man and woman rise to their feet and one walks into the street to the right while the other goes to the left. We are puzzled at this couples action but soon understand as they coax a young Holstein cow towards their gate. Possibly the cow is a new member to the couples herd and doesn’t yet know where she lives.  With the black and white cow safely inside the compound the man and woman shut the green wooden gate behind the Holstein and retire into their house. We continue to watch as the animals dwindle in number as they disappear into people’s yards and retire for the night. This was so cool!

A cow arriving home for the night

 

It is nearly dark so Paul and I begin to walk back to the guesthouse where animals are still making their way to this end of the village. Suddenly we hear shouting and turn to see a couple of men chasing after several sheep who are bolting up the road. It looks like these sheep don’t want to go home for the night! Paul and I stop to watch the men as they sprint after the sheep that are now running in all directions. The older man corrals one wooly ovine against the wall of a house, picks the struggling critter up, drapes the sheep over his shoulders like a shawl and while holding the animal’s legs tightly so it can’t kick free, trots back down the street to deposit the sheep where it belongs.

The livestock that lives at the far end of the village continuing up the road

The older man soon returns to help a younger guy who has turned some of the wayward sheep back and they grab another one. This time they truss the animal’s legs and put it in the trunk of someone’s car. By now Paul and I are laughing hard,( but quietly), because we are pretty sure we have been subjected to every cuss word there is in the Romanian language by the men trying to run down the recalcitrant animals! Even though the men are still chasing after a couple of the speedy sheep, it is getting so dark that Paul and I return to the guesthouse giggling all the way.

This morning I am up before six, I dress and go outside to watch the livestock parade in reverse. I watch as cows amble down side streets and turn left or right onto the main drag of Viscri. The early morning sun is glinting off the coats of three horses grazing along the edge of the road. A mixed flock of long-haired goats and wooly sheep are prancing down the middle of the road joining the ever-growing number of animals preparing to go to pasture. Many of the animals head directly for the wood water troughs or the cement tank full of water and drink thirstily. A woman carrying two buckets of milk walks against the flow of animals as she makes her way to the milk center. The shepherd appears in the distance and I watch as he roves from one side of the street to the other urging the wide variety of livestock to move on down the street. The shepherd and his menagerie pass by me but I continue to watch the livestock parade, gathering ever more participants, as it recedes into the distant boundary of the village.

A cow heading for main street

The shepherd is in the back ground

Delivering the morning’s milk to the milk collection center

I return to the room where Paul and I finish packing everything but our toiletry case before we go to breakfast. When we exit the back gate a thumping noise causes us to look across the street into the open gate of someone’s property. Looking closer we see a wagon hitched to a horse where at least two good-sized calves are trussed up and lying in the wagon bed. One of the Simmental looking calves struggles and nearly stands up but a man appears, pushes him back down, and tightens the bonds on the calf. We assume that the young calves are headed for the market and we leave to go eat breakfast.

Calves trussed up and in the wagon bed.

After eating breakfast we settle up with Ojen for the extra meals and for the clothes the family washed for us. We also tell him we really enjoyed our stay in his guest house. As we are returning to our room we notice more activity is taking place across the street. A pickup with homemade stock racks, is pulled in the driveway next to the bound calves. One of the calves is already standing in the pickup bed, the rope around his neck tied to the wire stock racks. Now the two men are attempting to load a second calf. To say the calf is unwilling to walk up the loading plank is putting it mildly. I would estimate the calves weigh 300 pounds, and this sturdy bull calf is doing everything he can to stay on the ground. One man is pulling on the rope around the calf’s head, while the other burly fellow has the calf’s’ tail and is pushing against the calf with all his might. The calf refuses to walk and eventually he just lays down so the guys must drag the obstinate critter into the pickup. Unlike the sheep chasing men last night these two fellows never say a word during the tussle with the calf.

The stubborn calf resisting the two men trying to load him in the truck

Finally success!

Paul and I meet Daniel at the car and we stuff our luggage in the trunk of his car. Today Daniel has several places for us to visit including an Angus ranch on our way to our next guest house. We load ourselves in the car and as we drive through the quiet streets of Viscri, I feel a twinge of sadness at leaving this friendly, peaceful village. Nancy

Horses grazing in Viscri

I thought this photo of the cows under the umbrella was funny

 

 

Romania part 5

The landscape is changing as we travel into Translvania from Bucovina

Romania part 5

Daniel, Paul, and I walk to a restaurant adjacent to the gas station to grab a bite to eat before we continue our journey to Viscri. The three of us enjoy conversing with one another as we eat our lunch and one of the subjects we discuss is visiting the village where the refugees that Paul’s parents brought to Alma in 1957 had lived before WWII. The Preidts were German Saxons that lived in Romania prior to Mr. Preidt being conscripted into the German army. The family became refugees in Austria after the war ended. Paul said the Preidt’s were like a second set of parents to him the fifteen years they worked for his parents. Daniel uses his phone to google the location of Drausen and decides that visiting the village today makes sense because Drausen isn’t that far from our destination village of Viscri.

We crossed into Transylvania shortly before we met up with Daniel and the countryside was changing from mountains and forest to more open landscape.  As we travel farther into Transylvania the rolling hills look similar to eastern Kansas.  I must admit it makes me a little bit homesick for the Flint Hills of Kansas. The other difference from Maremures and Bucovina is we are seeing a lot of modern agriculture in Transylvania. Yes, there are some people cutting hay by hand or using horses in the fields but there are also hay sheds with big square bales stacked in them and round bales sitting in the hay fields. Near the village of Drausen a tractor with a front mounted swather and two side mounted swathers is cutting alfalfa! That is a rig that can cut down a lot of hay in a hurry!

Cultivating one row at a time

Large square bales stacked in a hay shed. Taken from the car

The tractor cutting with three swathers. Paul’s photo

Daniel drives through the small village of Drausen and pulls the Ford to a stop next to the fortified church where the Preidt’s would have attended services. The three of us walk around the stone wall that surrounds the fortified church. We reach one section of the wall that is leaning heavily towards the street and Paul comments that the ancient wall won’t be standing much longer. Fortified churches are unique to Europe and in Translvania they were built mainly by German Saxons who were invited to come to Hungary (Transylvania belonged to Hungary at this time) to help defend the country from attacks by the Turks. The churches were the largest and tallest buildings in the villages and were always built on a hilltop which allowed for a clear view of the surrounding countryside. The churches had at least one outer stone wall plus the bell towers had shooting slits incorporated in them for defense. The courtyard and church were a large enough area to shelter all the people of the village when they were under siege.

The main road into Drausen. A portion of the wall around the Fortified Church is on the right

As we continue our inspection we walk by a woman standing in her yard and Daniel asks her if it is possible to tour the church. The woman’s replies that touring the church is possible and tells us that she will phone the caretaker.  After speaking to the caretaker, she tells us he will meet us at the front of the church. By the time we arrive back at the car, a lanky, dark-complexioned man is waiting for us. That sure didn’t take long!

Going through the gate into the grounds of the church

The caretaker and Daniel exchange a few words after which the serious fellow walks to the gate, unlocks it, and leads us into the courtyard of the church. Our volunteer guide points out a pair of dragons carved on the stone arch over the church door. It seems curious to me that a church would have dragons etched on the door but maybe it was someone’s coat of arms. Filing into the church we see that the interior is undergoing a major restoration or was that is. Daniel translates the caretakers’ explanation that the project has come to a halt because the funding has dried up. What a shame.

Daniel and Paul discussing the work that was done in the church

Remnants of old paintings of the wall of the church

We wander around the spacious church as our companion points out remnants of old paintings on the wall, interesting windows, plaster decorations on the ceiling and so on. We then climb some steep make-shift stairs built by the restorers to gain access to the bell tower. The view from here is awesome and if I had lived in this era I would love to have had the job of watchman. I can’t imagine of ever tiring of the views from this lofty perch, not to mention that you are on eye level with a lot of birds!

This hill reminded me of Kansas

From the watch tower. You can see how the stone wall is leaning

The three men walk out onto the rafters that have walking planks laying over them in order to look at the engineering involved in the roof restoration. I take one look at the situation and say no thanks. Once they have satisfied their curiosity, Daniel and the caretaker clamber up into the steeple and Paul decides to sit this escapade out. Eventually the two return and we all descend down the precarious stairs and walk outside into the bright sunshine. We examine one outside wall of the church where some restoration was done but much of the wall is crumbling away. I can’t imagine the cost of restoring this massive building with all the deterioration there is to the once majestic church. We thank the fellow for taking time out of his day to escort us through the church and Paul hands him some lei in appreciation. As we are driving away from Drausen Paul thanks Daniel for taking us on this spur of the moment tour. Paul tells Daniel that it was quite emotional for him to visit the home town of the Preidts’ who were so special to him.

Paul, Daniel and our guide. You can see the sad state of the church wall behind them

Due to our visit to Drausen, Daniel is approaching Viscri from a different direction than he normally does and we are driving one of the worst roads I can remember being on in our many travels. The road is so riddled with potholes that all Daniel can do is attempt to only drive over the smallest potholes as we creep down the dirt road.  We arrive at the sleepy village of Viscri with its pastel colored houses lining the streets.  Daniel drives to the rear entrance of the guest house where we are staying for the next two nights, walks to the gate, and calls out for the owner. When he receives no answer, he swings the gate open, steps in and immediately loud barking ensues.  Daniel jumps back out into the street while slamming the wooden gate behind him. Yikes. I guess the dog alerted our host because soon a man appears at the gate and invites us in. We cautiously step into the backyard with Ojen assuring us the dog won’t bother us. Paul and I are shown to our room which is quite large and warmly decorated. Two windows look out on the main street of Viscri which will allow us to watch village life from our room. The bathroom, which we share with Daniel, is a convenient two steps from our bedroom door.

The front of the guest house we stayed at in Viscri

Our spacious room

Tonight we have dinner at the guesthouse across the street. The dining area is quite beautiful and spacious. Daniel tells us that lamb is being served tonight, which doesn’t exactly thrill Paul and I. When our server, (a girl from Texas for heaven sakes) sits the roasted lamb in front of us the smell wafting from the pan is wonderful. Daniel cuts off slices of the roast for us and the lamb tastes as good as it smells. To top it off a side dish of creamy, mashed potatoes accompanies the lamb dish. I love mashed potatoes!!

The bells from these grazing cows woke us up in the morning

This morning we awaken to cow bells playing next to our room. I get up and glance out the window to see cows grazing the grass in the front of the guesthouse. I watch the early morning activities unfold before me as an old man walks by with a flock of sheep following dutifully behind him. Three men parade by the window pulling wheeled carts that carry one milk can. A young man driving a horse-drawn wagon which is filled with milk cans turns his horse into the driveway of a house and patiently waits for the owners to bring him their milk cans filled with fresh cow’s milk.

The flock of sheep that was following their shepherd

Delivering the mornings milk to the milk station

Paul and I are wide awake now and since breakfast isn’t served until eight o’clock we decide to explore the main street of Viscri. We find a spring that flows through a pipe, the water running into a handmade wooden trough. The overflow from this trough trickles into a second wood trough giving livestock easy access to water. Ahead of us a large family of geese is grazing on the green lawns. Paul and I are cautious of the gaggle of geese, because we raised geese a long time ago and know how nasty a gander protecting a flock can be. We are happy to see the geese cross the street so we don’t have to worry about them as we continue exploring Viscri. A gypsy woman and her child are innocently strolling up the road and when the two pass by the geese, the dominate gander erupts in anger. The nasty gander starts chasing after the young woman and boy and the two run for their lives! The gander finally gives up his pursuit but the temperamental fowl probably ran after the people a half a block. The woman starts laughing once they are safe, but I don’t think the little boy thought it was funny at all. There are two older gypsy women following a trio of grade school kids who are dawdling on the way to school. Occasionally one of the older women begins yelling at the kids who look back at their scolder before continuing on their reluctant way. The colorfully dressed women trail the children until the kids walk through the school gate and then the women turn back towards their home. Gee, do you think these kids have skipped out of school a time or two:).

Spring fed watering trough

The gaggle of geese. The victims to be can be seen in the background

Paul and I return to the guesthouse and enter the modest dining room. Our table is set for the three of us and I happily note that a jar of muesli is on the table. I really have missed having cereal for breakfast. There is also cheese, yogurt, bread and jam.

Our breakfast table

After breakfast Ojen invites us to go with him to Prince Charles property which he takes care of. Prince Charles became enthralled with Romania after visiting the country years ago and besides this property in Viscri he also owns a property in Breb. Ojen gives us a tour of the two small houses that are frequently occupied by the Princes’ friends and occasionally by the Prince himself. In fact Ojen is preparing for guests that are coming later today. The larger place consists of one big room for sleeping and dining, a small sitting room, plus a modest bathroom. The smaller place consists of a large room and a bathroom. The homes are furnished with antique furniture and lovely ceramic stoves to heat the rooms when necessary. The rooms are nicely decorated but there is certainly no opulence on display. There is also a barn and other out buildings but they aren’t being used.

Paul standing in one of the places owned by Prince Charles . Actually I think his foundation owns the property

It is really warm this morning but we are going to trek into the hills to visit a brick maker. As we are walking through town we stop to watch a crew that is digging up water lines (why I don’t know) and to find the line they are using a water witcher. The man is holding two bent copper rods that face straight away from him. The witcher slowly walks the grassy area and suddenly the rods swing together. Daniel is skeptical that this really works but Paul and I tell him that this is a legitimate practice and witchers are used to find a good place to drill wells at home. We explain that only some people have the gift to witch for water. We use ourselves as an example of this because I tried witching once and the rods reacted just like they did for this man. On the other hand Paul has tried witching too and the rods were unresponsive for him.

The rods in the mans’ hands say the water line is right here.

Daniel decides he wants to try witching and the village witcher tells Daniel how to hold the rods, then Daniel slowly walks the path the man directs him on. After Daniel takes several steps the rods abruptly swing towards each other and the surprised look on our guides face is priceless! Daniel insists that Paul try his hand at witching and Paul agrees to try. Daniel gives him the same directions he received on how to hold the rods and where to walk. Paul slowly walks the same area but as Paul had predicted the rods don’t even twitch. Daniel talks with the other members of the work crew and all of them tell him that they cannot witch for water either. As we continue on our way to the brick makers place, Daniel muses about how his electronics never last very long while his girlfriend’s devices never seem to wear out.  He wonders if his witching ability causes the problems with his electronics. It certainly could be a factor.

Daniel comes up with the same result

We reach the brick makers place which is secluded and lovely. The house as you would expect is made of brick. A lean, weathered man walks out of a large barn and greets us. We follow him back into the barn which is really an area where he and his family make and dry clay roof tiles. The wiry man gives us a brief demonstration on making a tile using a simple wooden form. Most of the building is filled with wooden shelves where the tiles are placed to dry before they are baked. We follow our host out to the huge oven used to bake the bricks and tiles. Daniel translates the process of baking the clay bricks or tiles, and it certainly sounds like a hot and tedious job!

Daniel and Paul approaching the Brick makers house

Our host explaining how they bake the bricks and tiles in the huge oven behind him

The four of us walk to the area where the family makes the bricks. The heavy clay soil here is ideal for making bricks and so the brick makers have a small water pit to which they add the soil until they the correct consistency of the dirt is achieved.  Our host mixes up a small amount of clay, grabs a big handful of the mud, carries it over to a wooden form and dumps the wet soil into it. He punches and pushes the muddy stuff into the form and then uses a flat board to scrape away the excess. The brick maker places a wooden lid over the brick, carries the form to a board lying on the ground, presses the lid down on the mud to form the brick, carries the board and form back to the table and dumps the slick yellowish brick out of the form. The gypsy brick maker then asks Daniel our names and proceeds to scratch Paul and Nancy into the fresh made brick. Hey, maybe someday a building in Romania will contain a brick with a couple of Kansans names written on it.

Mixing up the dirt to the right consistancy

Placing the sloppy mixture into the form.

Paul pulls out the photo book and our host,( who I think slightly resembles Sean Connery), and he studies the photos intently. When they have finished with the photo book, Paul pulls a couple of “Eat Beef” hats from his backpack and asks the fellow if he would like one. The man chooses the black one and tells Daniel his daughters’ birthday is this week and she will be delighted with the ball cap. Daniel also gives the man some money for entertaining and educating us on the craft of brick making.

Looking at the Kansas photo book

The work area for making bricks. You can see Viscri and the Fortified church in the background

We take the long route back to Viscri through a flower laden meadow, wander by a pretty cemetery and stroll down a road where the fields have been freshly plowed.   Arriving back in Viscri, Daniel leads us uphill to the fortified church that dominates the skyline here. We step off the street and walk up the shady path to the impressive 12th century church which is a UNESCO World Heritage site. The church is still active and the members also maintain a museum in one of the out buildings. One of the rooms on the second story of this museum is set up to show how the people of the village would keep their lard/bacon in the store-room (larder) of the church and would fetch what they needed for the week on a specific day. Part of the reason the people did this was that the heavy stone of the store-room was cooler than the people’s houses which was better for storing the meat better. The other reason was that when the village was under siege they had food on site as they took shelter in the stronghold of the church.

The meadow we walked through on the way back to the village

The fortified church, well the church is inside this protective wall

We climb the spiral, enclosed stone staircase into the bell tower and circle the walkway marveling at the views. On this side of the church we see the village splayed out below us, looking another direction the verdant hills fade away in the distance, on this end of the tower is the tidy cemetery placed outside the rock wall that surrounds the church.

Viscri as seen from the bell tower

The cemetery

We go inside the church and where the white and gold organ over powers everything else in the room. The wooden benches for church goers are quite old-fashioned and I am sure that no one is going to fall asleep during services sitting on these hard backless seats. Paul and I decide to have a look at the other buildings that are scattered around the church yard and when we return to the front of the church the organist is playing. A few other tourists have gathered inside the church to listen and we join them. After the organist finishes his piece all of us clap for the well-played music.

The interior of the Viscri church and the organ we were lucky enough to hear the organist play

It is nearly time for lunch and Daniel takes a different route back to the guest house. We stop by a small bakery where the bread we have been eating in Viscri is made. This bread is baked in a unique way as the baker’s place dozens of loaves in the cavernous ovens and then hot coals are banked around the loaves. The outside of the bread actually burns but after the bread has cooled the burned part is cut away. The bread is delicious by the way and I have never detected any hint of a burned taste.

An old women sweeping her side walk in the village

Ojen has prepared a light lunch for us as requested by Daniel. There are slices of cheese (of course), small pieces of lard (no thanks), some of the bread from the bakery, and a tossed salad which looks delicious but we don’t dare eat it. Paul and I eat cheese and bread for lunch and after we finish the three of us exit the dining room. Ojen comes running to the door and calls out for us to return. Ojen is holding a plate of warm rhubarb cake his wife has made us for desert. We don’t have to have our arms twisted to sit back down at the table and enjoy a couple of pieces of the flavorful cake.

Since it has gotten really hot Daniel suggests we take a siesta for a couple of hours before finishing up what he has planned for us today. We agree and return to our room where I look at my photos, write a few notes in my journal and Paul checks the internet for emails. What an interesting, packed full morning we have had in this delightful village. Later, Nancy

Black and white photo of the brick maker

The outside of the brick makers house

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 4

 

Romania part 4

Road side scene taken from the van

After breakfast Paul and I ask Dana about taking a walk and she suggests that we walk on the dirt road (the only road) that we drove to get here but walk the opposite way from where we came in. Dana tells us that it will take us into the nearby forest where the road comes to a dead-end after a mile or so. Dana also tells us in broken English to carry a stick along for defense! We look at her in surprise to which she says “don’t worry, you will have no problems”. Well we aren’t worried as we have seen no wild animals on this trip so far but a couple of hares and a few squirrels in England!

It is chilly this morning as we walk along the unoccupied road but it feels good to be out of the confines of a car. We pass by two placid cows wearing bells around their necks. As they turn their heads to look at us, the bells spill lovely musical notes into the crisp morning air. Farther down the road some goats are adding their own music to our morning walk, as the bells they are adorned with, chime softly as they graze. I love that sound. A young cow, with a half-grown calf by her side, is walking towards us mooing plaintively, possibly because her herd left her behind. Walking in the forest the coniferous trees tower above us and short of a cowbell jingling in the distance and a few warbling birds we are surrounded by silence. As Paul and I round a curve there is a lanky hare sitting in the middle of the road. There is wildlife in Romania!!

Friendly cow with a bell around her neck

Cow and calf that seemed to be lost

At the roads end there is a hunting blind on stilts, a grain trough, and the skeletal remains of two cows. It appears they bait hunt in Romania too. Our question is what are they trying to attract with the bovine carcasses? We see a pile of old scat full of animal hair that was certainly deposited by a large animal. Wolf? Bear? Wild Boar? We don’t know but the poo does prove that there are more than hares in the forest.

This is the first wild animal we have seen in Romania!

As we stroll back toward our temporary home, we find the calf that we met at the start of our walk standing alone a few hundred yards from our guesthouse. The bull calf is bawling for mom and as we walk by him he begins to follow us. As we walk along, the mottled calf has decided he likes Paul and trails behind him like a dog. When Paul and I enter a small graveyard next to the road that is surrounded by a wooden fence, the lost calf peers through the slats of the gate as if to make sure we don’t disappear too. Once we reach the monastery the calf seems to have given up that we are going to help him find his mother and turns and walks the other way. Poor thing.

Paul has a new friend

Are you still in there?

On our return, Cornelia is waiting to transport us to the first of two painted monasteries we will visit today. Other than a huge amount of traffic streaming into a city that is celebrating a milestone birthday, our travel to the monastery went smoothly and as usual was full of interesting sights along the way. In Bucovina as there was in Maramures there is a housing boom going on. The new houses being built are huge and the outside of them are generally finished in colorful dryvit. I have noticed that no matter how old, new, big or tiny the houses are in Romania they all have pretty lace curtains in the windows.

We saw houses being built all over the part of Romania we visited.

People often add decoration to the outside of their houses

Cornelia pulls into a parking lot and for the first time we must pay to park. Another first is that we encounter vendors who are selling souvenirs from small stands set up on the sidewalk. We pay our entrance fee for the Humor (hoo-mor) monastery, and when we step through the gate we see the historical building which is built of stone but covered in plaster to create a smooth surface. The outside walls facing us are covered in paintings of biblical characters or scenes depicting bible stories. Cornelia tells us the monastery is for nuns and it was built in the early 1500’s. This monastery has a cross on its roof not a spire which means that a court official built the monastery not royalty. The paintings on the south side of the building are vibrant with reds, blues and yellows being the dominant colors, and it is hard to believe that they are 500 years old! Cornelia takes us to the north side of the building where the exposure to the sun has destroyed all the paintings except the area of the wall that is protected by the low hanging roof and these paintings are very faint.

A poor photo of Humor Monastery and it seems to be the only one I have

An up close look to show how the paintings on the south side have fared

The north side where the paintings have disappeared

The three of us enter the small monastery and find that the inside is just as elaborately decorated as the outside. There is so much to look at that it is overwhelming and when I do a 360 while staring up at the ceiling I get a bit dizzy. There are separate panels (12 maybe?) showing all the events leading up to and including the crucifixion of Christ. Unfortunately no photos are allowed inside the painted monastery. The only thing that distracted from being in this spectacular place was that a nun decided to vacuum the rugs while we were enjoying the interior of this ancient building. Oh well, sixteenth century meet the twenty-first century:).

Returning to the van, we are now in route to the more famous painted monastery of Voronet. When we arrive we again pay for parking in a large lot which is several blocks from the Monastery that is nicknamed the Sistine Chapel of the East. Here we walk by lots of souvenir shops and decide to search for the traditional gift of wooden boxes sporting the name of the country we are visiting ,in this case Romania, that we give to our partners children. We find exactly what we are looking for at the second shop we visit and purchase three wood boxes from the vendor.

The gate of Voronet Monastery

We reach the impressive stone wall that surrounds the grounds of Voronet and walk through an arched wooden gate. The gate leads to a small room where a nun collects our entrance fee and we walk onto the grounds of this famous painted monastery. Wow, Voronet is really big compared to Humor and there are a lot more people visiting here too.

Voronet Monastery

Cornelia, who by now we realize is a walking encyclopedia, tells us that Voronet was built in the late 1400’s by Stephen the Great to celebrate a victory over the Turks. Well the great man outdid himself because this monastery is gorgeous. The blue color in the paintings is very intense and Cornelia says that the blue paint is unique to Voronet. To this day no one has been able to break down the components in the paint to figure out how they made the stunning blue color. Cornelia says there is a legend that instead of using water they used horinca to mix the blue paint!

This scene is painted on one end of Voronet

This shows how intense the blue paint is

Cornelia asks us if we can figure out why the monasteries are covered with paintings. We don’t know and she tells us it is because the people who lived here couldn’t read and the services were held in a language they didn’t speak. The religious leaders painted the walls so the people could understand Christianity through the pictures. It makes sense to me as the paintings are very realistic.  We enter the monastery and as in Humor it is spectacular. There also is the rule of no photos allowed which is a shame but I understand that they need to protect these ancient masterpieces.

On our way home there is a man and boy riding horses ahead of us and they look to be outfitted for a parade or show and the riders are dressed in fancy costumes. I have raised my camera to my eye and am trying to find the riders so I can snap a photo, when I hear Cornelia and Paul both exclaim “Oh my God!”. I yank my camera down to see the boy’s horse lying on its side on the shoulder of the road, while the boy, who was thrown free thank goodness, is lying in the grassy ditch. The boy jumps to his feet and runs to the horse who is struggling to get up. The boy grabs the horse’s bridle and helps the poor animal to its feet. All three of us are relieved to see that the big horse regains his footing and stands solidly on all four legs. Cornelia drives up to the scared boy and converses with him. Cornelia explains she was asking the rider if he was alright and if he needed any help. The boy replied that he was fine. Oddly enough his companion is completely unaware of the boy’s mishap and is still trotting his horse down the highway. Another man has parked his car on the shoulder and is standing and talking with the boy so knowing he is not alone, we continue on our way.

This was a different pair of riders than the ones I wrote about but they were dressed the same

Cornelia has one last place to take us and that is the Painted Egg museum which is exactly what the name implies. The proprietor of this place, it is a private collection, has on display painted eggs from all over the world. We enjoy looking at the interesting eggs and seeing the amazing things an artist can paint on an egg! I didn’t take any photos because I was too cheap to pay the camera fee.

It is about dinner time when we return to the guest house. After we are finished eating Dana sits down at the table to visit with us. Cornelia and Dana get in an intense discussion (in Romanian) about how to prepare the corn meal dish (it was delicious) we were served tonight. Paul and I become so mesmerized by this passionate, animated, conversation that we are staring rudely at the two women. It took Paul and me about two days with Cornelia to understand that people here talk very emphatically and it doesn’t mean they are irritated or upset with you! These two ladies are facing each other and once in a while we can understand a drawn out “nooo” and assume they are disagreeing on some part of the recipe. Who knows though, they might have been discussing us!

After a good night’s sleep, we have our breakfast of bread, cheese, sliced summer sausage and little white chunks of something. Cornelia sees me eyeing this item and tells me that it is lard. Oh why not, I take a piece, stick it in my mouth, and well, it’s pretty greasy and cold. I will pass up that offering the next time.

It is Sunday morning and yesterday we had asked Dana if the people coming to the monastery for church today would be dressed in traditional outfits. She replied that they only wear the traditional clothes on special occasions. Imagine our surprise when after Dana has served our breakfast she returns outfitted in her traditional clothes. That is going above and beyond to please your guests!

Dana dressed in traditional clothing for church

Paul and I want to take a quick walk in the forest before we have to leave this peaceful place later this morning. When we reach the gate there is a man standing beside his car and he waves at us saying something we can’t understand.  He shakes Paul’s hand and takes my hand and kisses the back of it. Hey, I could get used to this. We assume he is going to church but then we see Dana’s mother trotting towards us carrying a wicker basket. When she arrives, slightly out of breath, we see that her basket is filled with big wedges of cheese wrapped in plastic. The dapper man and Dana’s mother talk for a bit and then he hands her some lei in exchange for the cheese.

Dana’s mother selling cheese to a customer

After watching the free market at work in Romania we continue on our walk. The goats are still in their field, neck bells chiming softly. As we stroll down the forest road we hear a cuckoo bird whose call sounds exactly like the bird that pops out of a cuckoo clock. In fact the first time we heard a cuckoo sing in Breb we actually thought it was a cuckoo clock chiming in a nearby house! Paul and I sit down on a fallen log to enjoy our surroundings when a car drives by. The odd thing is that a dog is loping behind the car. The driver speeds up, the dog runs faster and they soon disappear from sight. It occurs to us that this guy is “walking” his dog which we find pretty funny.

The road leading to the forest

Cornelia is ready to hit the road as soon as we return from our outing, so we go to our room and retrieve our luggage. Dana comes out to give Cornelia some butter she has purchased from the family and to say goodbye to us. We thank her for the wonderful food and hospitality. I shake her hand and Paul taking a cue from the men that kissed my hand decides this must be a proper way to say goodbye to Dana. When Dana realizes what Paul is about to do she cries out “no” and removes her hand from Paul’s. Yikes, that isn’t exactly the reaction Paul was looking for. We never did figure out why she reacted that way. Waving goodbye, Cornelia drives us through the pasture and Paul gets out, opens and closes the gate and we are on our way to rendezvous with Daniel.

Oxen team pulling wagon

Milk Woman

On our journey to meet Daniel we see our first and our last oxen team pulling a wagon. It appears that the man has loaded up all his possessions in the wagon. Three crates contain a big dog, a calf, and a hog, while on the back of the wagon there are pails, pots, what appears to be bedding and so on. Later we see a woman with a wagon full of milk cans stopped on the road side. The milk women is picking up farmers milk and dropping off empty milk cans. A woman driving a wagon is something we have rarely seen so far on our tour of Romania. We round a curve and come face to face with a big flock of sheep being driven down the highway. Most of the sheep are in the lane they should be traveling in but a few have strayed into our lane. Cornelia must come to a complete stop so one of the boy’s trailing the flock can gather up the strays and move them back to the main group. Unreal!

Flock of sheep being herded down the highway

Three hours after our departure, Cornelia pulls into a gas station where Daniel is waiting for us in his Ford sedan.  Cornelia introduces us to Daniel and we say goodbye to this knowledgeable, feisty woman who has done such a wonderful job the past five days in guiding us through Maramures and Bucovina. Later, Nancy

I thought that this photo of a horse drawn wagon passing another horse drawn wagon was pretty funny.

Where are we! For those of you who may not know, our home town is Alma

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 3

Romania part 3

This morning Marioara serves us crepes with homemade jam and butter, cold ham along with a plate of local cheese, sausages, tomatoes and cucumbers. The food was delicious as were all the meals we were served at this guest house. We say our goodbyes to Marioara and thank her for making our stay comfortable and tasty!

Marioara

Breakfast our last morning at Marioaras’ guest house

Today we are leaving the Maramures region and will drive southeast to the region of Bucovina. Our journey will take 5-6 hours on this sunny day and we will be driving over the mountains. We also will stop at a few historical places along the way.

I haven’t mentioned all the White Storks we have seen on our trip thus far. The large white birds are nesting and they build nests of sticks, usually on top of a power pole. The nests are huge because the storks use the same nest year after year and just build a new layer over the old nest. Paul and Cornelia find it quite amusing since I am the “birder” that they are the ones that usually spot these lanky birds standing or sitting on the bushel basket sized nests. I have no explanation why I seldom spot these very obvious storks and nests. I took lots of photos but I got very few decent ones as it seemed I was always shooting up into the sun and through a wad of intersecting wires.

Storks on their nest

Farmers are taking advantage of this warm and sunny weather and we see lots of people in the fields cutting hay or piling it into haystacks. Cornelia stops alongside the road where a man and three boys are working in the field. The boys are scything the alfalfa and the man is stirring up the cut hay with a pitchfork. Cornelia calls out to the man and asks if it is o.k. to come down to the field. The pleasant-looking fellow nods his assent and we walk down to the hay field.

Man turning alfalfa by pitchfork

The mowing is finished but scythes are sharpened in prep for he next field

This young man liked being in front of a camera

The boys have just finished scything the field of alfalfa, although the blond-headed youngster is busy sharpening his scythe in preparation for next time I suppose. I think the older boys are enjoying the attention of foreigners because they seem to be more than happy to strike a pose for photographs. Cornelia fields questions from us to the man like, “Is all the land you own right here”, answer, “no, we have small fields scattered around the area”. “Are these your sons”? “Two of them are my sons and the third is a school friend”. After we are done visiting, Paul brings out his photo book and the four hay makers cluster around and seem genuinely interested in Kansas and our ranch. They ask their own questions such as “Are those beef or milk cows”. We thank them for taking time to visit with us, wave goodbye, and continue on our journey.

The people we meet are so pleasant and their faces show this I think

A boy and his scythe

Checking out Kansas photos

Cornelia exits the main road and drives to Leud. We are visiting the Church of Leud Hill, which is a UNESCO monument. Cornelia has called ahead to the caretaker of the church as he will have to unlock the historical building for us. The bridge over the small river that Cornelia normally would drive across to get to the Church is closed so we must walk across the swinging bridge meant for bikes and foot traffic. We are dogged by a young girl who is asking for lei (money), and Cornelia firmly tells her no. The little girl finally gives up and walks back across the bridge.

A man is waiting for us at the bottom of the drive that leads to the Church of Leud Hill. When we reach the church he unlocks the door and allows us to explore the inside of the 15th century church on our own. The church is designed like the one we saw in Budesti, with the back benchless room for women, and the front room with benches for the men. The walls are also covered with ancient paintings of religious portraits and scenes. The interior of the church is as fascinating as Josani was. The one difference between our visits to the two churches is that I am not allowed to take photographs of the interior.

Uniquely shaped wood shingles

The corners of Leud Hill church

The three of us walk outside and look at the workmanship of the wooden church. The corners of the building are dove tailed and we get a close-up look of the faded wooden shingles on the roof, which are exactly like the ones we saw being hewn in Breb. Since it is impossible to get a good photo of the church at this level, we follow Cornelia as she picks her way uphill through the graveyard to the highest point. Wow, this is a great perspective of the historic church with the decorative graves surrounding it.

Church of Leud Hill

After leaving the wooden church behind, we walk down the dirt road to visit the Ethnographical Museum. A woman in traditional dress greets us and we find out that she is the owner and operator of this living history museum. The woman, I didn’t write down her name, focuses on demonstrating both plant fiber and wool weaving.  The curator has every tool necessary to create textiles from raw material of either plant fiber or wool. We watch as she shows us how to “comb” the material, spin it into usable yarn and then demonstrates how to use the looms. Our hostess shows how she can rock a cradle while working on her loom.  A wooden rod attached the cradle to a pedal which the woman can pump with her foot while she works at the loom. I have to keep from giggling because as the woman concentrates on her looming she is enthusiastically rocking the cradle via the pedal and the doll in the cradle is in danger of being ejected from the old wooden bed! We end up buying one of the woman’s’ embroidered dresser scarves for about seven dollars.

Combing hemp

Note the tilted cradle as the woman works her loom

The museum lady saying goodbye over the gate

We say goodbye to this person who is so passionate about keeping the old traditions alive and start walking back to the car. We stroll by a cheerful man scything the tall grass around a religious statue and he strikes up a conversation with Cornelia. He offers the scythe to Paul who takes him up on his challenge. I see a surprised look come over the man’s face as he watches Paul work.  The man turns to Cornelia, nods his head and tells her Paul is doing a good job (translated of course)! The man smiles, shakes Paul’s hand and we continue on to the van.

Sharpening the scythe for Paul

Paul scything under the gaze of the worker

Paul gets a handshake of approval

As we drive toward Bucovina we share the road with lots of horse-drawn wagons along the way, many of which are loaded high with loose hay. There is no impatient horn- honking from the automobiles at these extremely slow vehicles the cars share the road with which I find amazing. We also meet a young man herding cows on the highway for heaven’s sakes. I just wonder how often there are accidents between machines and the animals on the busy roads. Thank goodness, we never witnessed any accidents of any sort.

A big load of loose hay

A bigger load of loose hay!

We met this small herd of cattle as we came around a curve.

As we are driving along the edge of one of the many villages we pass through today, we see two men and two boys actually making the conical hay stacks we have been seeing throughout our trip. Cornelia asks us if we want to stop and since she is slowing down at the same time I’m sure she anticipated our affirmative answer. We cross the ditch, (after Cornelia makes sure there is no sewage running through it!) and stand one hundred yards from the haying activity. I am taking photos of the hay crew when the two men wave their arms in a come on down gesture.

Walking down to the hay crew

The making of a haystack

We make our way through another field until we reach the fragrant field of mown alfalfa. Cornelia makes introductions all around, and Paul shakes hands with both fellows. I offer my hand to the man nearest me, which he takes in his, but instead of a handshake he gently kisses the back of my hand. To say I am taken by surprise is putting it mildly and quite frankly I don’t quite know how to react. I just smile widely and say something like “oh my” as the elderly man releases my hand.

Working in the hay-field didn’t stop this man from being a gentleman!

The other 72-year-old

The two boys, who must be grandsons or hired help, continue to rake the hay up while we converse with the two men. There is also a beautiful young girl who is standing around watching the others work. I ask if I can take her photo and she shyly agrees to pose for me. Paul and Cornelia are having an intense conversation with the two men and at one point I see the plaid-coated man and Cornelia stretching their arms wide as if they are one-upping each other on how big the fish was that they caught. The man in the plaid coat is the more talkative and he reveals to us that both he and the other fellow are 72 years old. When we prepare to leave, first one man and then the other man, kiss the back of my hand. I tell you, it made this plain- looking woman from Kansas feel like royalty! As we walk away the chatty man instructs Cornelia to tell us that if we return in ten years they will still be working their fields and Paul and I should come back and work the fields with them!

I’m not sure what was discussed here but it looked like the man was showing how big the fish he caught was:)

Isn’t this young girl beautiful!

The two boys kept working while we were there.

As we drove through another village we must stop for a train and Cornelia comments that this is a long train. We laugh thinking she is making a joke because the train is pulling four passenger cars. Cornelia isn’t kidding at all as she tells us most of the time the engines only pull one or two cars behind them. As we continue down the street we must stop at another railroad crossing for the same train. We end up stopping for that “long” train five times before we exit the village. Crazy.

Our third out of five encounters with the same train

As we begin to climb in altitude more of the land is covered in forest. When we reach the mountain top we can see what looks like a miniature town nestled in the valley below us. As we descend into the valley we begin to see developed springs (well, the water is running through a pipe) alongside the road, where people stop and fill up their plastic bottles. We encounter gypsies for the first time as they drive their horse-drawn homes down the highway.

The valley view from the mountain top. Photos never do these sweeping vistas justice

Gypsies and their horse-drawn houses

Cornelia has never been to the guesthouse where we are staying for the next two nights. The man Paul planned this trip through was busy with other clients for the first five days of our stay so he hired Cornelia, who has her own tour company, to guide us. Cornelia is excited to see this place because it is Daniels “secret” and now he has had to share it with her. Cornelia’s excitement wanes a bit when after following the directions through the village we end up on a very narrow, potholed, dirt road. We come upon a church where the Saturday night services have evidently concluded as there are a crowd of people getting in the numerous cars that are parked along the road barely leaving enough room for Cornelia to maneuver the van through. It is a bit chaotic but Cornelia finally manages to drive through the maze of people and cars.

The monastery with our guest house in the background

We drive a few miles on the bumpy road with forest and grassy fields on either side of us. Suddenly the countryside opens up and there are several buildings dotting the area including a monastery. To get to the guesthouse we must go through a swinging gate that is situated next to the monastery, and then drive a short distance through a pasture to reach our destination. A pretty, young woman is standing by two small wooden houses; she greets us and introduces herself as Dana. There is a larger wooden house that stands a little way from the smaller houses. I assume that we will be staying in one of the smaller cabins but Dana tells us that the three of us will be in the big house. It seems Dana, her mother and her grandmother occupy the two-story cabin and the other building is the kitchen.We grab our luggage and follow Dana along the flower lined path to the guest house. When we walk through the door we see one half of the first floor is for dining and the other half has a sink for doing dishes, a bar type counter in one corner and there is  a large wood-fired oven/stove that is made of clay (I think) and covered in smooth plaster. Dana leads us up to our rooms which are small but adequate. We do have our own bathrooms which is always a plus.

The guest house

The bedroom

Dana informs us dinner will not be ready for another twenty minutes so the three of us decide to walk across the pastures to the barn where Dana’s mother is doing the nightly milking. As we near the barn a curious long-haired goat runs up to the wooden fence and pokes its head between two posts to take a look at us. A big spotted dog is chained up next to the barn and acknowledges our presence with deep, menacing barks. Dana’s mother steps out of the barn door to see what is stirring up the dog and welcomes us with a smile. She invites us into the barn which makes the pair of geese inside begin to honk hysterically. The chickens begin to run up and down the ramp that leads to their coop and the two cows are shifting nervously.

The curious goat

This dog did his duty by barking at our approach

All the hoopla doesn’t seem to bother the owner of the livestock as she proudly shows off her cows and a handsome calf. We stay long enough to watch as the lady thoroughly cleans the udder of one cow and then begins milking the cow by hand. That sure brings back memories for me; I always rather enjoyed milking cows, if they didn’t kick that is!

Milking the cow with the chicken coop overhead

When we return to the guesthouse Dana begins bringing food to our table but first, you guessed it, we must have some horinca! We raise the brandy size glasses, utter the toast “noroc” and take a sip of the throat burning liquor. There are five kinds of cheese on the table and all of them were made by Dana’s mother and the cheese is wonderful. What the rest of the meal was tonight I don’t recall, but I do know that every meal we had at this place was delicious. Later, Nancy

The most handsome matching pair of horses we saw in Romania

Quite a contrast

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 2

Romania part 2

Early morning traffic by our room.

Once we return to the guesthouse, I borrow a bristle brush from Mairoara and return to our room. I take my mucky shoe into the shower and scrub it down using the liquid hand soap in the bathroom. I was going to set my wet shoe outside but the rain is starting to come down so that plan is out the window. Instead I put the shoe on the old-fashioned radiator that is next to the staircase, knowing that this evening Mairoara will turn the heat on. I change into my spare shoes and Paul and I go back to the main house where Cornelia is waiting for us.

We are driving to Sighetu Marmatiei to visit the Sighet Museum, a Memorial to the Victims of Communism and of the Resistance. Rain is falling in earnest so we are thankful that we finished our village walk when we did. , By the time we reach Sighetu it is pouring and when Cornelia turns onto the street where the museum is located the parking spaces look to be full. Cornelia declares to us that she is a lucky person as she finds a parking space next to the museum! We scurry through the rain and enter the enormous building. After paying a small fee, we listen to an audio narrated by Ana Blandiana, who was instrumental in initiating the building of Sighet Museum. Blandianas’ purpose was to bring the truth of what had happened during the communist reign to the publics attention.

The gloomy rainy weather accentuates the mood we fall into after spending an hour or so in the museum. Many of you probably remember the downfall of Nicolai Ceausescu, the last communist leader of Romania, but I had no idea of the atrocities that were carried out during the 45 years of communist rule.

Typical cell for the political prisoners during communism

Cornelia takes us into some of the exhibits which are displayed in the tiny prison cells where the political prisoners were kept. We look at one cell where people were punished for disobeying orders such as laying or sitting on their cot during the day. This cell has leg irons in the center of the tiny room and the cell was kept completely dark. We visit the exhibit concerning priests and bishops who were imprisoned. The communist government would replace the priests in the churches with priests that were loyal to the government. These undercover priests would report people to the government after hearing confessions that would implicate them of crimes against the government, after which they would be arrested. Another exhibit explained how the peasants were rounded up and forced into cities to become workers at factories or in building the canal. Their land was seized and to insure that they wouldn’t try to escape and return to the farm, the government killed two million horses which were the backbone of a farmers operation. I could continue to relate the atrocities but you get the picture. Another sad tale was that many people in the resistance held out the hope that the USA would come to Romania’s rescue, that of course never happened and eventually the resistors were all caught and imprisoned or worse. If by chance you are traveling to Romania in the future this museum/memorial should be part of your itinerary.

Looking down a hallway lined with prison cells.

These paintings were made from using the artists own blood when he was held in Sighet prison

We exit the building to look at the bronze sculpture in the yard of the former prison and it is fitting that we are looking at the agonized human figures in dim light and falling rain. Cornelia leads us into an underground room where there is a pool of water. All of us light a candle for the victims of this horrible time. We then place the candles in holes that are drilled in a metal plate that sits about an inch down in the pool of water. Even though our candles are the only ones burning, it still is a very peaceful and beautiful sight. I found this action very uplifting after the somber and depressing stories we had just encountered.

The bronze sculptures in the prison yard

After leaving the museum/memorial Cornelia drives us to a restaurant for lunch. Cornelia turns onto a one way street and a car is driving toward us. The man drives right up to us as Cornelia lets fly with a curse word in English. Since there are cars behind us, Cornelia can’t back up and I don’t think she would have anyway! The knucklehead drives up on the sidewalk, where some people are walking I might add, and continues on his way. I have a choice name for that wrong way driver myself although I say it under my breath.

Cornelia parks the van and the cold rain makes us hustle into the Hungarian restaurant. The place is nicely decorated and the patrons seem to be made up of locals. When our server, dressed in Hungarian attire, comes to take our order, Cornelia and I opt for chicken noodle soup, while Paul orders Hungarian goulash which comes in a cute ceramic pot. Cornelia also orders eggplant salad for all of us, but the “salad” is a creamy paste that you spread on thickly sliced bread. All of the food is yummy.

Paul’s Hungarian goulash

We linger over lunch, as we are not in any hurry to go back out into the rain. Eventually we leave this cozy restaurant to drive to the Merry Cemetery at Sapanta, the last stop of the day. On the drive to Sapanta the countryside is one of large pastures where herds of cattle and horses graze. Cornelia points out the country of Ukraine which is just across the river.

Cattle grazing on pasture. Photo taken as we were driving

I swear that the rain stops falling when we arrive at the Cemetery and Cornelia again reminds us that she is good luck. A small entrance and camera fee is handed over to the ticket seller. We enter the colorful cemetery and Cornelia explains the history of the unique graveyard. In the 1930’s, artist Stan Ioan Patras began carving crosses from oak, and then decoratively painted them. His work included a portrait of the deceased depicting their profession or posing with something that they cherished in their life. Patras also wrote a poem describing the person’s life and sometimes the poems were very candid such as the poem about the guy that loved to drink! Dumitru Pop who apprenticed under Patras has carried on the painted cross tradition since Patras died in 1977. What I find  astonishing is that the people who commissioned these two artists to create their loved ones crosses, have no say in what the portrait of their relative will be and no control over what the poem says!

Cornelia shows us two graves, one is that of Sapanta the artist that began this tradition in Merry Cemetery. The other grave shows a woman wagging her finger at a defeated looking man. Cornelia explains that the person buried here is the mother-in-law of the man being admonished. The poem on the cross, in short, asks the visitor to this grave not to wake his mother-in-law up, because if she returns he will be the one sleeping here!

The grave of the artist, poet and wood carver, Patras who began the tradition of Merry Cemetery

Paul and I wander around the bright graveyard on our own and although we can’t read the poems we can ascertain via the portrait something about the person occupying the space. We see many women sitting at looms, and lots of men doing agricultural tasks. There are also tragic portraits such as a young girl getting hit by a car and a boy drowning.  I don’t see how this stark depiction of the tragedies would be comforting for a parent that is visiting their child’s grave. Before we leave we enlist Cornelia’s’ help in finding crosses where people are portrayed with cattle. Between the three of us we find portraits of women milking cows, men standing or leading a cow or bull and one where a woman is standing by a calf. Mission accomplished and now it is time to return to Breb.

I don’t remember what Mairoara served us for the main course this evening, but I do remember that the soup was chicken noodle, duplicating what Cornelia and I had for lunch! We have a small glass of horinca set in front of us and we raise our glasses, utter the Romanian toast “noroc”, take a sip, and agree we had a fascinating day.

This morning I am pleased to find that my shoe is completely dry and it is so clean it looks brand new. This is good because I need my hiking shoes for our walk to the neighboring village of Hoteni after breakfast. It is chilly and partly cloudy when we begin our trek but a few blue patches of sky are showing so hopefully the clouds will give way to the sun later on.

Paul on our walk to Hoteni

There is no need for Cornelia to be our go between on the hike to Hoteni because we do not meet a human on foot or in a car. It is glorious to be strolling in the countryside and occasionally we turn to look back at Breb, which slowly fades into a miniature village behind us. The wildflowers blooming along the road and in the meadows are colorful and numerous. The birds are in full voice this morning adding music to our delightful stroll.

Flowers seen along the way

We reach the outskirts of the village and the first person we see is an old man sitting in his yard, whittling replacement teeth for his rake. As we walk farther into the village we pass by children walking to school plus I spy a few cats which is always a plus for me. There is a wooden church in Hoteni and we walk through the elaborate wooden gate into the cemetery. All the churches are next to or in the middle of their cemeteries. Although the church is locked, Cornelia takes us around the exterior of it and points out the unique features of the late 18th century building.

Whittling replacement teeth for his wooden rake.

It was very hard to get a photo of the entire church. This is the best I could do

We begin our walk back to Breb in bright sunshine and a busier road. We meet a man driving what Paul and I identify as water buffalo but Cornelia tells us they are Romanian bison. The bison spook when they see us and clumsily run off the road into the flower filled meadow and the man, carrying a wooden rake, trots after them. Since the bison owner makes no attempt to get in front of the running bison I guess they must be going in the direction he wants them to.

Romanian bison

The bison after they spooked and ran off the road

Looking at Breb on our return from Hoteni

It is late morning when we arrive in Breb, we take a ten minute break, and then we are on our way to Budesti to visit the wooden church, Josani, which is on the Unesco World Heritage List. A woman welcomes us when we walk into the church. I can’t help but gasp as I look around the interior of this historical church. The floors are covered with vibrant, thick, hand-woven rugs. The walls in the room where we are standing have faded religious figures painted on them. Cornelia points out that in the past the women of the church would have been in this small, back room during services, while the men sat on benches in the front room. We admire religious icons painted on wood and glass dating from the 15th to 17th century. The vestry, which we aren’t allowed to enter, has three separate, highly decorated entrances; the largest door in the middle is for the priest.

A poor shot of the wooden church in Budesti. I was trying to keep the roof of the building I was standing next to out of the photo

The rugs that covered the church floor

Faded paintings that covered the church walls

On display near the front of the church, is a split piece of wood with the unmistakable impression of a cross. It seems a former member of the church who had lapsed in his faith, was splitting firewood when he saw the cross imprinted in the piece of wood. The man took this as a sign from God and came back to the church, his faith restored.

The cross in the piece of split wood that restored the wood splitters faith

We leave Budesti and drive a few miles to the town of Sarbi. Cornelia takes us to a house that has individual ceramic pieces cemented to parts of the outside walls which form a colorful, geometric pattern. As we enter the yard, a woman greets us and soon a sleepy-eyed man appears. It seems the man has been up all night attending to the family still brewing horinca! Cornelia asks the woman if we can go into her house because Cornelia wants us to see a lifetime of work by our hostess of handcrafted rugs and fancy work. The woman is more than happy to invite us into her home and when we enter the house we are overwhelmed. There are handcrafted items hanging on the wall, piled on furniture, and draped over things. I think my jaw literally drops! Cornelia asks the woman to show us some of her special items. The woman opens a trunk and pulls out a traditional white dress she has sewn but what Cornelia really wants us to look at is the hand embroidery on the cuffs. I must say it looks perfect to me.

We saw these decorative tiles on the side of many houses.

Just a small part of the hand crafted items in this room

Beautiful hand embroidery done by the woman

It is the husbands turn to show us his hobby and he leads us to a building where there are tables and chairs set up. The man insists that Paul and I have a drink of his horinca, Paul says yes to the offer but I decline. Paul raises his glass of horinca and emphatically says “noroc” to which our host responds in kind. We admire the bottles of horinca on the bar that have miniature wooden ladders inside the bottle. The bottles of horinca at our guesthouse contain ladders too. How the craftsmen, like this man, can put the items together in the bottle is beyond me. We don’t ask but since the room is set up with a bar and seating, we wonder if this is a public drinking establishment?

Ladders in a bottle

A close up of the tap and cup built into the gate.

Our sleepy host, who seems more alert since drinking his glass of horinca, has one more thing to show us before we depart. He walks with us to his wooden gate and points out a small cup that is sitting under a wooden tap. Sure enough when the man turns on the tap handle a trickle of liquid runs into the wooden cup. The man is so animated about his invention that we laugh out loud.

The man showing us his liquor tap by the entrance gate

Cornelia leads us to a nearby house where Vasile Borodi, a well-known traditional hat maker, resides. Vasile is sitting at his ancient sewing machine busily constructing a hat made from straw. I don’t remember the process that is used to prepare the straw but I do know that the yellow material has been flattened. We watch as Vasile grasps the straw in his stained, cracked fingers and turns it in circles as he runs the clattering sewing machine. Soon the bright straw begins to take on the shape of his trademark hats. Vasile has been very innovative when it comes to running the thread to his sewing machine. The thread runs through copper wire that has been twisted into an eyelet, the eyelet is fastened to a thick wire, and Vasile has a screwdriver laying on the thread for tension.  I’m not sure why the thread stays tight and keeps feeding into the sewing machine but it does.

Vasile making a traditional men’s hat

The thread running to the sewing machine

Vasile has some finished hats sitting in his work shop and encourages Paul to try one on, which he does. I have to laugh, I don’t believe these hats are Paul’s style, but Paul threatens to buy one and wear it to his next bank meeting! We walk across the yard to Vasiles’ house which is also his store. There are lots of things for sale including hats, wool bedroom slippers, and beaded items that his wife makes. I end up buying a beaded choker necklace which I will never wear, but they were cheap and I wanted to buy something from this friendly couple. Paul gives Vasile a Kansas Livestock Association hat with the logo “Eat beef” embroidered across the front. I don’t think Vasile quite knows what to do with the hat but he graciously thanks Paul for the gift!

Hmm, I don’t think so Paul

We go outside and the couple shows us their barn. Like most people, they hang their farming implements on the side of the barn. The couple also has a cow and a handsome cat. Paul pulls out the photo book he made to bring on our trip and the couple is quite intrigued with the photos of Paul’s stone fences and our ranch. We wave goodbye to the sparkling-eyed couple and walk back to the van.

Notice the implements hanging on the wall.

A close-up of Vasiles’ wife

How could I not include the photo of their cat

Our next stop is Barsana to visit the Barsana Monastery, another Unesco World Heritage Site. We eat lunch at one of the venders are situated near the walkway that leads to the hilltop Monastery. We order a type of crepe with cheese filling and wait as the woman cooks our lunch on a hot griddle. The woman places the Romanian style grilled cheese sandwiches on a paper towel and hands them to us. The sandwiches were so tasty that it is making my mouth water just thinking about them.

The spired gate leading into Barsana Monastery

After lunch, we walk up to the Monastery, pay our entrance fee and walk into one of the most stunning places I have ever been. I can’t begin to describe the beauty of the various buildings including the wooden church. The vast lawns are lush and flower beds are blooming with poppies, lilacs, along with a variety of other flowers. I feel like I have stepped into a painting.

You can see the nuns house in the background. Not bad!

Cornelia takes us into the church whose walls and ceilings are covered with paintings depicting biblical scenes, saints, apostles, and so on. When you peer up into the vault of the ceiling a benevolent Christ looks back at you. We learn that this church is the tallest wooden building in Europe. I am a bit confused about the timetable of the monastery. I know Cornelia said that this is not an old monastery but I have read that the existing church was built in the late 1700’s. I guess that is new compared to the many churches that date back to the 1500’s! I am sure that the other buildings that make up this complex were built in the last twenty or thirty years.  Cornelia also informs us that there are only 14 nuns that live at Barsana Monastery! I wonder how the church decides which nuns get to live here because if I were a Romanian nun this is where I would want to be! It is simply fantastic. We wander down the flower-lined paths by the lovely house where the nuns live and another beautiful house which I guess is where the priest stays when he is visiting this monastery. We peruse the museum which contains items from ancient bibles to antiques that relate to the culture and history of Romania.

The Wooden church of Basana Monastery

The ceiling vault

Paul and I at Basana Monastery

Leaving this picture perfect place behind, we have one more stop to make in Barsana. Cornelia wants us to see the workplace of the famous Romanian wood-carver, Teo Barson. Our first thought when we arrive at the wood carvers’ is how the heck do we navigate this maze of logs to reach the business! We end up stepping over or walking in between the huge logs to reach the open air work place.

This is the plan the wood carvers were working on

We watch the artists at work, skillfully but tediously chipping away at the wood with chisels to create their designs. After visiting with the workers, Cornelia asks if Teo Barson is home, and the answer is no. Cornelia asks the man who appears to be in charge if he can call Mr. Barson and ask him to come home, because she really wants us to meet the guy. After some back and forth between the two, the head honcho leaves and Cornelia informs us that he has gone to fetch the famous wood-carver. Within minutes the man returns and informs Cornelia that Mr. Barson will be here shortly.

Busy carving a wooden plank

Some of the finished work

The three of us walk over to the house to wait for the man whose biggest claim to fame is figuring out how to carve a chain out of a single piece of wood. We haven’t waited long when a voice calls out to us. We turn to see a short, smiling man striding up the driveway. He clambers over his self-made moat of logs and joins us in front of the house. The man bubbles with energy and his eyes twinkle with orneriness. Cornelia introduces Paul and me adding that we are from America. Without skipping a beat Teo says, “I have been to America. I have a girlfriend there. She is 94 years old and pregnant”! He says it so sincerely that you have to laugh at the silly statement.

Teo Barson

We follow Teo into what I thought was his house but it is really a cluttered store with various carved items for sale. The famous wood chains are on display and we scrutinize one chain that is not completed. Paul and Cornelia try to explain to me how Teo is able to carve the wood into links to form a chain but it makes no sense to me. Teo also has a disproportionate number of wooden spoons compared to other items for sale. Evidently the spoon is a favorite of tourists to buy because the utensils can be used and they are easy to pack. Teo has oversized wooden knives that he makes for children and we decide to purchase a pair for two Kansas boys. I’m sure their parents will be delighted with our choice.

These pieces are carved from one piece of wood. Notice the Smithsonian certificate in the cabinet

Mr. Barson starts telling us about his experience in Washington D.C. when he attended the Smithsonian Folk life Festival along with other crafts people from around the world. Teo proudly shows us his Smithsonian certificate of appreciation, housed behind the glass of a cabinet. Teo then tells us that he told President Clinton he would take Monica off his hands and the President could keep Hillary. Teo roars at this joke once Cornelia has translated it to us. We laugh and shake our heads at this want to be comedian.

A wooden chain we saw hanging on someone’s wooden gate.

It is time to return to Breb, so we tell this ornery but talented fellow goodbye. I might add that we have seen and will continue to see as we travel through Romania, the carved chains of Teo Barson fame hanging from many of the more elaborate wooden gates. Later, Nancy

Children in Budesti

Another neat cat photo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romania part 1

Romania Part 1

One last photo in England

Paul and I are up at 4:30 a.m. (ugh) to finish packing and gather bedding and towels for Paul’s sisters to wash up. I feel bad about that part. We then warm up our bakery goods we bought yesterday for a very early breakfast. A few minutes before Steve is due we carry our luggage downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, to wait for our ride. Steve shows up on time and an hour later we arrive at the London Luton airport. We settle our bill up with Steve, thank him for our wonderful tours, and make our way to the terminal.

Our flight on Wizz air (I’m not kidding) goes smoothly and we touchdown at the tiny airport of Cluj-Napoca airport in Romania. We stand in line to show our passport and the only thing the person checking our papers ask is how long are you staying in Romania. I guess since England and Romania belong to the European Union they assume you have already been scrutinized. Our duffel bag shows up on the baggage claim belt and we walk out of the terminal to see a strawberry blonde, with a friendly smile waiting for us. Whew, two things that cause me anxiety, will our luggage arrive and will someone be waiting for us, are behind us!

Cornelia welcomes us to Romania and we walk a short distance to her silver van. Cornelia gets in on the right side of her vehicle and we are ready to start our adventure in Romania. Imagine our surprise when we find in Romania they drive on the right side of the road as we do. Cornelia tells us her husband bought the Honda van out of England; this is why the steering wheel is on the wrong side of the car. Now think about how hard it would be to drive with that arrangement. In the days to come we would often have to tell Cornelia if it was alright to pass a car since she didn’t have a clear view of oncoming traffic.

It is a wonderful warm, sunny day in Romania and after the rainy, mostly cloudy days in England, full sunshine is very welcome! We don’t drive far before we stop for lunch and to fill the van with fuel. Paul and I laugh when we see a placard on our table advertising the restaurants new Mexican food dishes. One other thing that amuses me at our lunch stop is when we are eating the song “I had the time of my life” is playing over the speakers. I take this as a sign of good things to come! We are also shocked but delighted to see how cheap our lunch cost, which is about three bucks apiece!

Driving down the winding highway we encounter horse-drawn carts and though I knew the horse and wagon were still prominently used in Romania, I never dreamed this mode of travel was allowed on a busy highway! We also see the handmade haystacks here and there that are a trademark of Romania, particularly in the region of Maramures. As we drive, Cornelia in very good English, relates some of her countries interesting history along with information about her life too.

Passing a horse and wagon

Putting up hay the old fashioned way. fuzzy photo due to taking it from the van

We stop in Baia Mare, where Cornelia lives, to buy bottled water and some snacks. When we prepare to leave we notice that there is a funny vibration coming from the rear end of the van, also the steering wheel is making squeaking noises. Paul guesses that the vibration is a loose exhaust pipe. The good news is that Cornelia’s husband Dan is a mechanic, so she drives the vehicle to his garage. Dan, a big friendly man, gets behind the steering wheel, turns the motor over and intently listens to it. He gets out, peers under the vehicle and pronounces that the exhaust pipe has broken loose. Way to go Paul!

Dan announces he can repair the exhaust in an hour or so and he drives the three of us to the city square to pass the time. We listen with delight as Dan talks about his passion for cars, particularly Dodge chargers. He also is the owner of a Cadillac and both Dan and Cornelia talk about how much they love their caddy. Perhaps the most impressive thing about Dan is that he speaks English quite well and he learned English on his own. I am so jealous of people who have the ability and tenacity to do that!

Paul and I sipping lemonade in Baia Mare

Dan drops us off at the city square and the three of us settle at an outside table at one  of the many small cafes that line the square. Cornelia treats us to fresh made lemonade and we relax with our refreshing drinks as we watch small children running, riding trikes, or playing in the manmade stream of water that runs from one corner of the square to the base of the decorative water fountain. Once we have finished our drinks, Cornelia leads us around the square explaining the various buildings and the restoration work that has been finished or is ongoing on many of the old structures. We leave the old square and stroll down other streets taking in the scenes and atmosphere of Baia Mare.

Street scene in Baia Mare

Baia Mare and the water fountain in the city square

An hour and a half later after leaving the van with Dan, we walk to a bus stop where Dan drives up with our repaired vehicle. Waving goodbye, we continue toward Breb and Mairoara Pensiunea where we will be staying for the next three nights.

Our route takes us through the Carpathian Mountains on very curvy roads where incredible vistas unfold beyond the car windows. Unfortunately, I can’t get any decent photos due to window glare. As the light of day is beginning to dim we come upon an incredible sight along the road. There are four men milking goats and Cornelia asks if we want to stop. Absolutely we do!

This through the window photo doesn’t do justice to the beauty of the landscape

As we are walking towards the goat milkers a flurry of conversation is taking place between Cornelia and the men. We were hoping to get ringside seats to witness this activity, but Cornelia tells us we cannot leave the highway due to the sheep dogs. Odd, the sheep dogs are lying around and haven’t paid any attention to us, but perhaps if we stepped into the dog’s territory their bored demeanor might change.

We still are able to watch the fascinating process of the goat milking from the side of the highway. There are four men milking the big herd of goats, we estimate over 200 goats. The men are sitting with their backs against the corral fence where the goats that still have to be milked are penned. The men milk the goats by reaching between the animals back legs; in essence the goat’s butts are a few inches from the milkers’ faces! When the men have finished milking a goat, they release it and the goat is free to join its herd mates that have been milked. A man standing in the group of goats that still must be milked shoves another goat through a gate to the waiting milker. There is no feed involved and I can’t figure out why the goats stand still to be milked but we learn later that goat and sheep milkers hold the animal’s tail or leg with one hand and milk them out with the other hand. It will be dark soon and I can’t imagine they will get through all the goats they have to milk yet before the sunsets.

I ask Cornelia if I can take a photo of the goat milkers but her inquiry to the men is evidently answered with a “no” as Cornelia just shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head. Rats, I really wanted to capture that scene in a photo.

This banner was next to the goat milking. Cornelia gave me the o.k. to take this photo. You can see goats waiting to be milked

We arrive at Marioara Pensiunea just before dark. The main building is a beautiful two-story house that is definitely not the norm in Breb. However we are staying in the old wood house behind this new structure. Marioara shows us to one of the two rooms upstairs and points out which bathroom is ours. It is a simple room, with two single beds but it will do just fine. We go back to get the rest of our luggage and Paul forgets how low the door is when we enter the house.  I hear a thud as Paul makes contact with the head jamb, then I hear a curse word split the air as Paul stops to rub his head. The top of a door frame seems to be well named. It won’t be the last time Paul has an encounter with head jambs in this house and other places in Romania!

We return to the main house for a homemade dinner made by Marioara who owns and runs this place with her husband. The first thing we have is a small glass of homemade horinca. Holy Smokes, I manage one sip that leaves my throat burning and my eyes watering. Criminy, how do they drink this alcohol?

Marioara then brings us a hearty meat and vegetable soup along with thick slices of bread. The next course is a pork dish accompanied by mashed potatoes and it is wonderful. A plate of cake is the finish to the meal. I tried not to eat too much as it is late but it was all so good! We retire to our room and settle in for the night.

I can’t believe this is the only photo I have of the house where our room was.

This morning it is cloudy so it appears the English weather has followed us across Europe. We don’t have breakfast until eight o’clock so Paul and I look around the grounds. They have a garden, stacks of firewood, herbs hanging from the sheds eaves, a swing set for kids to play on, a picnic table and a unique corn crib that I assume is just for decoration.

You can see herbs and garlics hanging from the eaves of this building. There is also a brick oven by the wood pile

After our breakfast of schnitzel, cheese, bread and jam, Cornelia suggests we walk around Breb. We start out but don’t get far when Paul decides he had better go back for our rain coats as the clouds seem to be thickening. Our first stop in the village is a wood shingle “factory”. This is a start to finish operation, starting with logs that are cut into boards by workers at a small outside sawmill. We enter a shed where two men are actually making the shingles. One of the men splits a board into thin pieces and the second guy takes one of these strips and quickly shapes it into a shingle. The men are friendly and gladly answer our questions that Cornelia translates into Romanian for them, but they never stop working. Paul asks Cornelia to find out who they are making the shingles for and surprisingly the men tell us these shingles are going to America. A Romanian community in the U.S. is building a wooden church and they want authentic, handmade shingles from their home country. It really is a small world.

Logs, chunks of lumber waiting to be sawed into lumber, and the final product, shingles are shown in this photo

The two men we visited with as they made wood shingles

Romania is known for the decorative wooden gates that grace the entrance of many   houses and we see several of them on our tour of Breb today. Most of the decorations carved into the gates are symbolic, such as the ropy looking limbs that symbolize the tree of life representing past, current, and future generations. Cornelia also tells us that the wooden gates were traditionally put up before a married couples house was built as this was believed to insure that they would have a son.

Our guide Cornelia explains the tree of life designs on this wooden gate

Paul took this photo of this lovely young woman who stopped to visit with us as we were walking in Breb

We leisurely walk along the dirt roads of Breb and curiously look at the weathered houses and activities going on around us. We stop at the gate of one house to take photos of a team of horses that are hitched to a wagon. There are two men and a woman loading tools into the back of the wagon and they smile and wave as we take photos of the horses, the people and the intriguing barn doors. An older couple is also in the yard. One of the men leads the horses out to where we are standing and Cornelia strikes up a conversation with him. The younger woman, dressed in jeans comes out too.  The older couple walks through the wooden gate to where the rest of us are. The man has two hoes slung over his shoulder and the woman has a wicker basket strapped to her back.

The homestead of the field workers we met. Take a close look at the beautiful barn door.

Preparing to leave for a days work in the fields

The man that drove the wagon

The older couple ready to go work in their fields

Cornelia is busy trying to relay our questions to the villagers and then translating the villagers answers to us and vice versa. Paul and I ask questions ranging from who forges the heavy, cleated shoes on the horses hooves (the man handling the horses does), to questions about the rakes and pitchforks that are loaded in the wagon. Paul notices the older man is wearing a Sedona, Az. sweatshirt and points to the logo on the garment. The cheerful man just shrugs and we assume it was given to him by a tourist. There is a trio of women coming up the road and when they arrive at the wagon, they load themselves and their rakes and pitchforks into the wagon. The older couple turns and walks the opposite way from the wagon party towards a different field.

I took this photo of the older gentleman while Cornelia and Paul were talking with him

Two of the three women hitching a ride in the wagon

Close up of the wooden rakes the villagers use. Paul’s photo

We move to the side of the road to let the ladened wagon by and I step onto the narrow strip of grass that is growing on the edge of the dirt road. Oops, my left foot slips off and I step into the ditch. No big deal right? Wrong, in Breb the ditches are open sewers! The good news is I give the wagon party something to laugh about plus the muck doesn’t go over the top of my waterproof shoe. The bad news is my shoe is covered with black sludgy muck. Cornelia says we must go back to our room to wash off my shoe, but she quickly adds that stepping in this muck is considered good luck by the locals. I laugh out loud at this supposed superstition, but Cornelia insists that this belief is true.

I took this photo shortly after my mishap. I wasn’t as worried about my shoe as Cornelia was.

I had to stop and take this photo of the black sheep and her spotted twins, before we found the water pump for me to clean up at.

We strike off towards the hotel and by chance come to a community pump. Paul is able to hold the handle down slightly so a thin stream of water comes out and I am able to do a decent job of washing my shoe off. We didn’t have to backtrack very far which is another silver lining to a stinky story!

As we continue to explore Breb, we walk by a house where Cornelia points out a pipe that is dripping a fragrant fluid into the ditch. She tells us that the occupants of this place are distilling horinca and asks if we want to go in and learn about the process of horinca making. Of course we say we do, so Cornelia goes to the closed iron gate and calls out to the occupants. A woman comes to the gate and speaks to Cornelia. Cornelia converses with the woman who is outfitted as the majority of women we see, in a dress with a scarf over her hair and tied under her chin. Soon she throws the small door open and beckons for us to come in. There are two sections to the entrance gates. One is for humans to use and the other for horses or cars to use.

The huge wooden cask that will eventually be full of horinca. Paul’s photo

That small still turns out some potent alcohol

We look around the homestead which is similar to the fieldworker’s place that we just left. There is a wooden house, a barn and a shed where the fruit is being distilled into horinca. There are three men standing around the shed door who grin and wave us over to see their horinca factory. We walk inside the shed where the copper still sits upon what looks like a fireplace made of stone. One of the men shoves another log onto the blazing   fire while Cornelia explains the process of how the still works. One of the tubes attached to the still runs to a vat that collects the coveted liquor. As we exit the shed, it is really hot in there; we continue to converse with the foursome. One fellow pulls an old plastic bottle from the pocket of his tattered coat and takes a long pull from it. He sees Paul and me watching him and extends the bottle to us. We shake our heads, not to violently I hope, to decline the offer. It’s 10 a.m. for crying out loud. When the others try to encourage us to try a sip, I put my hands on my belly and Cornelia explains that I have a sensitive stomach, which is true esp. when we travel. Paul somehow manages to escape having a drink with the group too. It does make one feel a little rude towards the friendly hospitality that is being offered.

I caught the four horinca brewers standing outside the building that houses the still. I love this photo

Cornelia translating a question or an answer for us. There were many questions for us from the foursome. Not just questions from us to our hosts.

The man who offered us a shot of horinca from his plastic bottle

I liked this photo of the eldest member of the group

Wow, we haven’t covered that much ground in Breb but we have had three very interesting stops already. We have reached the edge of town and we decide to walk up a muddy road to see if the field workers might be working close by. We reach a fork in the road and because it is starting to spit some raindrops, we decide to head back to Breb.

Haystacks in a meadow on the edge of Breb

There is a woman scything grass about 50 yards off the road we are walking and stop to watch her work. Cornelia calls out to the traditionally dressed woman and inquires if it is O.K. for us to go down to where she is scything. The woman waves her assent and once there, we watch and photograph her as she gracefully scythes the grass. The woman than gathers the grass up with a pitchfork and piles it on a wooden-sided wheelbarrow.

Loading the cut grass on the small wheelbarrow

Paul asks if he can try his hand at cutting the meadow grass with her scythe and she gladly hands the apparatus to Paul. Paul occasionally uses a scythe at home so he is a bit humbled when the woman begins talking rapidly and shaking her head, which Cornelia translates as meaning, “This is no good”. She takes the scythe from Paul and as she scythes she is telling Paul he must twist at the waist more; this advice is translated by Cornelia naturally. The teacher hands the scythe back to Paul who adjusts his technique and is awarded with a “that is better” compliment.

Scything grass

Paul after receiving instructions from his mentor

We turn to leave but the woman insists we must see her livestock. She leads us to the barn, opens the door and takes us into the dark confines of the barn. There are two Simmental looking cows tied up by means of a rope around their necks, as is the month old calf. A white hog sits in a corner pen, blinking at the sudden shaft of light that has illuminated their dark living quarters. We ask Cornelia if the animals are kept inside the barn all the time and she seems to think they are. Surely they are allowed out into the sun sometime. However, most homesteads we saw in Breb had a barn with the proverbial manure pile that had been shoved through a small door in the side of the barn, which proved there were animals inside. We never did see cows or hogs in the barnyard in Breb although we did see sheep and goats on occasion.

A common scene outside the barns was the pile of bedding and manure. Paul’s photo

We turn towards the road when we leave the barn but the woman now insists we come into her house. Well, we would like to see the house so why not. As soon as we walk into the small but cozy kitchen, food begins to appear on the table despite our pleas to our new friend that we have already eaten breakfast. Bread, boiled eggs, and cold sausages are set in front of us. The woman decides she should make soup for us but Cornelia talks her out of that idea. A bottle of horinca is sat on the table and Paul decides he must accept some of the drink to be polite. I again plead a sensitive stomach. The woman watches with pride as Paul takes a swallow of the alcohol and we consume a boiled egg and a piece of bread. A plate of cake then appears and I simply can’t eat anymore. Paul eats a piece of the cake and declares it delicious. Somehow Cornelia manages to sit and watch us without eating or drinking anything!

Some of the food that the woman offered us.

Our hostess intently observing Paul as he drinks the horinca.

Our hostess brings a photo of two teenage boys and Cornelia translates the woman’s’ sad story. It seems that her sons were swimming in the river when the younger boy began to struggle. The older brother went to help him but in the end they both drowned. This happened seventeen years ago but I could see the sadness in the mothers’ eyes as she related the tragedy to us. She then tells us her husband lived for eleven years after their boys died but in the end she believes his grief over his sons deaths finally took him too. The sweet woman than tells us she handles this loss by working hard every day and all day which allows her to sleep like a baby at night. When she has finished her depressing narrative, she ends with a phrase meaning, “That is life”. It’s a darn good thing we were done eating before listening to her tragic tale as I’m not sure I could have managed to swallow the food past the lump in my throat.

The woman getting the photos of her boys.

As the woman is putting the photos back in her cupboard, Cornelia suggests we might leave her ten lei as a gift. We have no problem with this but I am afraid this proud soul might be offended. Cornelia assures us that she knows what to say so the woman won’t take offense. When we stand to leave, the woman sees the money lying on the table and she does protest. Good to her word Cornelia talks to her; the woman nods her head and shakes our hands. When we leave the house it is sprinkling and the woman wonders if we should take her umbrella, saying someone could bring it back to her later. Good heavens, how wonderful is that! We thank the woman for her thoughtfulness but tell her we have rain coats in our pack. We wave goodbye and continue down the road. After discussing about this unique experience we realize that we never asked the woman her name!

I will quit with this wonderful encounter and save the rest of the day for the next blog. Nancy

A peaceful scene as we walk back to Breb

The tassels on the horses bridle aren’t for decoration but to ward off the evil eye.