The Chronicles of Kate

For those of you who don’t know much about Romania, here is a primer of my perceptions in this country. If this is disagreeable to some-let me know. I desire to be politically correct, but I make no apologies as to the content of what I describe as my opinion.

The locals are basically simple hospitable people. Farmers, or those with no apparent means of financial sustainability. Driving though small villages you see heavily fortified neighborhoods with metal or rock fences. Houses are accesed by a courtyard of sorts with maybe a dog chickens or other livestock, and an outhouse in the back. There is an infrastructure of plumbing, running water, indoor toilets, only in big cities- though some still choose not to use it and rely on the system of bringing in buckets of water and using wood fuel for heat and cooking. The typical house consists of only 1 or 2 rooms. The main kitchen/sleeping room and as side room that is extra and unheated. Space is not an option and neither is privacy. If you are visiting- it is normal for people to change their clothes right in front of you. They have little concept of personal space and don’t understand if a foreigner needs it.

You must always refuse if you are offered food. You may accept after the third time (if there is a third time.) Everyone has a house wine. Everyone. Drinking seems to be the national pass time. (Maybe it’s this way in all of Eastern Europe?) You cannopt be boisterous, cause a scandal, talk too much, or express your personality in thoughts, clothing, hairstyle or even jewelry. I am seen as rich because I wear six rings, but really I consider myself to be poor because maybe I have something “good” to eat every three days or so. (By ‘good’ I imply something other than bread or potatoes or strange mixtures of food that I cannot identify and therefore decline) because food poisoning is my enemy.

There is a great hatred of the gypsies here. From television coverage and personal observations, it is somewhat justified. The romantic western image of a gypsy is pure fiction. Here, they play their role as poor beggars- when actually it is a big syndicate-children being bred for the lifestyle of stealing- and penalties for coming home empty. Many have large silver topped houses in which large numbers share  communally together with their animals. They have mass collections of weapons and often use distraction and numbers to catch a tourist off guard.

There are many hungry dogs roaming around the entire country and the other day a child of 6 was killed by a pack estimated to be from 40 -60. Single ones don’t seem to pose much danger.

As for mentality, the old are often humorous and rely on conserving all resources for survival. Living in semi-darkness, saving bottles, plastic sacks and often living without heat. The young move on to bigger cities for better opportunities, while the middle-aged often work in other countries, leaving husbands or wives here. Some, out of desperation, leave the country entirely and their children become wards of the state.

Orthodox religion is prevalent among the population, although it is hard to distinguish the righteous believers from the bandits because the system works in a symbiosis and there is much money in religion. The politicians and the priests are the richest people in this society.

So the point in describing all this is that an American living in this environment is similar to an African in Antarctica. Many members of the U.S. Peace Corps stationed here have had to be put on anti-depressants when they get home. There is no “what you see is what you get.” In fact, everything must be questioned. A smile is misinterpreted, eye contact is to be avoided if you are a woman, and you never know if you are going to be met with hostility, curiousity, or normal impartiality. There’s no such thing as acceptance. If you have this, then there’s a big chance it is merely a ruse.