I Lied...

I'll get to my lie a little later in the post.

To begin, travel is magic. Traveling alone is magic as well, and I wasn't so sure this would be the case.

I arrived in Brasov on Friday, and ended up talking until after 3 in the morning, just soaking in the comfortable English conversation with new friends J~, S~, and T~ from Brunei and New Zealand. I got up on Saturday morning and went for a hike up Tampa Mountain- literally one of those experiences you remember forever- the ones that, in a really odd sort of way, define you. It was about 75 minutes up the mountain with all the switchbacks, and I got to the top right as the sun was peaking over the edge. I just stood with my hands outstretched and breathed and screamed and cried because of all the beauty and blessing in my life. See, there are benefits to traveling alone!

The rest of the day was spent exploring the remainder of the center of Brasov- it is an adorable, beautiful, amazing city. The center is so untouched by the Communist influences (bloc apartments, etc...) that seem to be everywhere else in Romania. It was just pure and clean and friendly and warm. The weather was absolutely perfect- the most wonderful autumn weekend. I got moved with my newfound friend J~ to an apartment because the hostel was booked out, and we had dinner at a local restaurant with Romanian specialties. Including the "grilled pig brain." Yes, friends- I at BRAIN! It was rather mushy, but actually rather tasty. We then went out with the two guys from New Zealand in the city center- near Piata Sfatului. It was a magical kind of day.

J~ was supposed to leave in the morning for the next leg of her journey, but she ended up delaying it a day so she could stay and go to Bran with me. THIS was my lie. In the last post, I said that I was not going to Dracula's castle- we did, in fact, go to Dracula's castle at Bran. It is about a half hour bus trip from Brasov, and we (with the help of two Serbian girls H~ and N~) flagged down the bus from the side of the road and made the trek.

Bran is (to be completely honest) rather disappointing. It is certainly a HUGE tourist attraction, but the castle itself isn't amazing. Regardless, for the rest of my life I will be able to say that I spent Halloween 2010 at Dracula's Castle. Honestly, what else in life IS there?

My return home was late (as trains usually are) but rather comfortable. I enjoyed part of the journey in a compartment with a music teacher, an old woman, a man who just kept muttering "frumosa" (meaning "beautiful") to himself, and a three year old child. Around the halfway point my compartment emptied out and I was joined by two men who were- to put it mildly- Romanian gods. They are volleyball coaches. Mhhmmm.

Bucuresti was waiting for me in all its glory. It always amazed me that not only my apartment, but my metro station and my street and my city are all the same when I return. I come back with an entire weekend full of new experiences and memories and friends and thoughts and emotions- and everything here is the same.

It is like magic.

Harry Potter, Locker Rooms, and Underwear

Camp day number two. The day began quite wonderfully with a minimal amount of sweat, a beautiful breeze, and a lovely group of girls. Munchkin #1 was on her best behavior after some serious praise (WHOA, Munchkin #1, I LOVE the way you are listening. Oh my WORD, everyone look at Munchkin #1- isn't she AMAZING???), and we arrived at the drama tent right on time. Our engaging specialist E~ was doing a wonderful job of keeping my kids happy and participating, and began to do a name game. An up-and-coming trouble maker, Munchkin #2 introduced herself as Harry Potter. When pressed for her real name, she responded "Hermione." She never again was out of character- the ENTIRE day. Through the rest of drama, lunch, swimming, baseball, tennis, and snack- she remained Hermione. She talked about her muggle parents and her best friends Ron and Harry and her interest in (no joke) Ancient Runes. She discussed our serious lack of knowledge concerning the game of Quidditch and tried to conduct spells with a twig she carried around. Whatever- I took it in stride and just let her try and levitate her food with a cry of "wingardium leviosa!"

For those of you who have never supervised a group of 13 six year olds changing out of swimsuits, let me give you some details. You can be the BEST counselor in the world, and there will still be missing items. There are naked little girls everywhere, and screams and laughter and crying. There is hair waiting to be tied up and combed out. There is (Munchkin #1) who needs to take a shower for her skin condition, and there are 12 other girls to refuse to let shower. There is sunscreen everywhere because parents are emphatic about putting sunscreen on RIGHT after swimming. The sunscreen doesn't stay on because the girls are still wet, but this is completely beside the point. There are discussions of privacy and marriage and courage and cooties and boyfriends and beauty and swimming teachers and the deep end of the pool and bravery. There are awkward stares when the counselor (yours truly) drops her towel while changing back into the sweaty clothes in front of the girls because you can't leave them alone for a second. And then there is underwear.

There is underwear in every place imaginable. In a bookbag, in a shoe, in a locker, in a lunchbag, in someone else's lunchbag, in the toilet stall, and in one sad instance, ON the sopping wet child. And Munchkin #3 has NO underwear. No underwear anywhere. She is sure she wore it this morning. She is sure she looked through all of her things. Then we are ALL sure we looked through all of our things. Then I am sure I looked through everything. And there is no underwear anywhere. I am honestly about to suggest to this child that she go commando to baseball and tennis, when enters... Hermione. And with a cry of "Accio underwear" and a wave of the twig, Munchkin #4 pulls the missing underwear from the dirty towel bin. I believe in the magic of children.

And after the reapplication of sunscreen and the singing of songs and the passing of papers and the walking to the far field, we are nearly 38 minutes late for baseball. Oops.