This is going to be a badly written and terribly boring post, just so you know. I am copying most of this from an email I sent someone because my internet connection is REALLY shady at the moment. I am supposed to have internet in the apartment, but I am currently stealing it from my neighbor (I think). Thank you, Lucian.
Travel was pretty good. I had to pay extra for my bags, but no biggie, I knew that was coming. The flight was delayed about 45 minutes, and we actually were seated apart. We asked someone to move, and so we ended up in the middle section- I was right in the middle and D~ was on the outside. As soon as we sat down I knew it was going to be a long flight- the seats were TERRIBLY uncomfortable- the plane was so old that there were still ashtrays in the armrests :) Poor D~ was miserable- he couldn't even rest his legs on the floor because his knees hit. We had a pretty good time, all things considered. Played a LOT of card games, talked a lot about politics and religion and everything else, and watched a REALLY terrible Queen Latifah movie called "Just Right." AWFUL.
Food was awful. I chose the beef (rather than fish) and D~ had the fish after seeing my beef- but then he ended up really sick at the end of the flight.
We were seated seperately on our flight from Rome to Bucharest, which was okay again. I ended up sleeping again for almost the entire flight- just a few hours, but really needed. When we got to Bucharest, we got a luggage cart to wait for our stuff, but it never came. All of a sudden we heard the words "Roma finished." I followed the parade of people over to the lost baggage office while D~ waited to see if it was anywhere around, and with all the carry on stuff. Everyone was yelling in Romanian and I very nearly had a breakdown. About 1.5 hours later our claim was in and we went out to meet two people from my school, and climbed in the tiny car to go to my apartment. In hindsight, it was a good thing the luggage was lost b/c there is NO way it could have fit into the car. We were met by my landlord, a parent from the school, and one of my students who brought me flowers. This was around 5:00 on Tuesday night- we were in the apartment for a while, and they showed us around. The apartment is beautiful- one main room with a tiny little kitchen and a decent sized bathroom. I have a really nice futon, two comfy chairs, a television, a few cabinets, and a really huge wardrobe. The kitchen has a fridge, sink, and range/oven, and the bathroom has a tub/shower, sink, toilet, AND... a washer/dryer!!! (This is a big deal). Oh yeah- there is an adorable little lift that works about half the time and I'm on the fourth floor- not too bad. Oh yeah- AND there is air conditioning :)
My area of the city is really nice- everything within walking distance- supermarket, post office, bank, school, and a metro station. We went to dinner right across the street on the first night (sour cream chicken and paprika potato wedges) and then grocery shopping, just for some staples like fruit, bread, milk, and cereal. We crashed pretty early the first night, and went the next day to get our luggage, spending the rest of the afternoon just hanging out in the apartment, unpacking a bit and napping some. I got a mobile phone, so I am officially connected :) We had dinner the second night with people from SOL, but I messed up on the time- we were supposed to meet the country director O~ at 5pm outside my apartment, not 6pm. We had to run out pretty quickly- D~ was still in the shower and I hadn't yet gotten in... it was pretty miserable. We ran to the Metro station and I did what I do best- fell down the steps. I messed up my foot pretty badly- I could walk with an awful limp to the restaurant, but couldn't even bear weight afterward. Dinner was great, all things considered. We were there for nearly 3.5 hours, and we ate well. I had some Romanian chicken and mashed potatoes, beef soup, and carmel custard. We talked and talked (I was quite distracted by the pain in my foot) and it was a beautiful place. Afterward, we ended up calling a taxi to get back to my apartment, because there was NO way I could have made it otherwise. I felt really bad, but I was in a tremendous amount of pain.
Bucharest is big and loud and none of the streets run straight and everything looks the same. I crave the knowledge that I will have in a month, six months, a year from now concerning this strange place. It is pretty drab for the most part- it still reeks of an oppressive Communist regime, and Ceausescu's legacy is everywhere. I'm looking forward to finding little pockets of good, but it might take some searching.
We had orientation yesterday, and it was quite interesting. We met at the British Council, and were able to meet a few other teachers here in Bucharest, which was good for me. I got pretty drugged up for the day, my foot still in a lot of pain but not NEARLY like it was the night before. We talked in the morning about school stuff- more to come in a later post (the Romanian system is quite interesting) and then went to lunch, which basically turned into a 3 hour break time. I got a library card from the British council library (!!!!) I met a man named G~ who also teaches in the city, and he mentioned a few opportunities about teaching part time at a preschool (almost every teacher has to have a second job for money purposes) AND his project this year of going to a hospital and holding babies!!!
After orientation, D~ went to buy his train ticket to Timisoara (pronounced Timmy-shwora) and then we wandered around for a bit looking for something to eat, and ending up back at the same restaurant as the first night. It seems like a decent place judging by the amount of people there, and our waiter from the first night was all smiles about us being back.
D~ left this morning, and I have three days with nothing to do. Hoping that the internet holds out, and that I get my connection fixed. I find myself missing him already- he was my last tangible link to home in this strange, bewildering place. He has been incredibly fun, wonderfully comforting, and impressively strong. I'm not sure I could have done all of this without him.
My foot is feeling a lot better- I was honestly quite worried the first night. It is still quite painful, but I can at least hobble around now. I am hoping that this sense of lonliness transforms itself into excitement, but for now I am just overwhelmed and wondering if this was the right choice. I know this will get better when I have friends and school starts and I have the opportunity to explore the city a bit more- but right now is pretty difficult.
Haha- in other news, I apologize for the spelling errors in my postings from now on. Because I am in Romania, when I click on "check spelling," about 95% of the words are highlighted. Sorry!
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Friday, September 3, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Nobility of Purpose
One of the most horrific and interesting experiences I have ever had occurred during my trip to Romania in May 2009. I journeyed there as part of a group from my university, and we were centered in Oradea, a city on the far western border of Romania. We worked to repair soccer bleachers in an orphanage called Caminul Felix, a family-based organization meaning "happy home." It truly was a joyful place filled with hope and love and peace. There were two villages- our work was done in Village One, and we stayed in a hotel located at Village Two. We met an incredible amount of wonderful people and played with children that radiate beauty despite some despicable childhood circumstances. However, we also had the chance to experience Romanian life through some of the other places in the city and countryside.
For instance, we traveled to the "bear cave;" really an underground cavern filled with bear bones. This journey was both touristy and fun, but also terrifying- I cannot count the number of times I closed my eyes on the road and waited for death. Romanian drivers are notorious for using the center line as a passing lane- in both directions- and the mountainous roads were no exception.
We were exposed to a few different organizations in the town, one which was a school for children with disabilities, and another that was pioneering the field of assistive technology for orthopedic injury and disability in the region.
We visited a Roma (Gypsy) village and saw abject poverty in it's raw form. Barefoot children running amongst broken glass in the town dump. Houses made of scrap metal and cardboard and tires. People blackened from the soot of burning anything at all to heat the house or cook food. Men scarred by the violence that sometimes characterizes the community. And a sense of unmistakable pride.
Amongst all of these experiences, though, there is one that will forever plague my heart. One that I have thought of countless times, in all places, in all moods, and with all people. And despite the incredible amount of positive and meaningful experiences I had in Romania- it is this thought, I believe, that is drawing me back to this country.
We took a tour of a maternity hospital while in Oradea. And things were grim and at times surprising; two pregnant women lying in a bed together waiting for delivery, the screams echoing up and down the hallway on the delivery floor, learning that the babies were immediately separated from their mothers after birth, watching a nurse run up the staircase with what appeared to be a bundle of blankets but was actually a newborn. These things, though- I was prepared for them. I could handle the shock and the surprise and the difference.
And then we visited the abandoned baby room. A fairly large, institutional room with one nurse and 12 bassinets. These newborn children are left in the hospital by families who cannot support them, and they lay in cribs. And they have bottles propped up on blankets to feed themselves at two days old, as if to prepare them for a life of forced independence. They are left alone overnight to attempt survival. In reality, there is not the money nor the concern to care for these children who will end up in institutional orphanages. And so these little bundles of baby that should exude potential and joy and laughter and happiness and delicious smells- they become so much less than they could be.
And for 14 months now, I have dreamt about these infants. I have imagined myself holding them, feeding them, pouring love into them. When I was first looking into Romania, I jokingly asked friends if it was feasible to just go and hold babies for a year. The answer is clearly a resounding "NO," so instead I looked for a teaching job. And as excited as I am about teaching English, as wonderful an opportunity as it is, I have a sense that my arms will feel empty.
So now I obsessively watch news reports and videos and read articles about "The Lost Children of Romania." And my heart bleeds for them, and my hands ache to act in a way that will resolve my desperation, and I pray unceasingly for the chance to do something more. Maybe in addition to teaching English in what I expect to be a fairly "cushy" locale, I can make it my mission to hold a bunch of babies.
I'm not baby-crazed. I am abandoned Romanian baby-crazed.
For instance, we traveled to the "bear cave;" really an underground cavern filled with bear bones. This journey was both touristy and fun, but also terrifying- I cannot count the number of times I closed my eyes on the road and waited for death. Romanian drivers are notorious for using the center line as a passing lane- in both directions- and the mountainous roads were no exception.
We were exposed to a few different organizations in the town, one which was a school for children with disabilities, and another that was pioneering the field of assistive technology for orthopedic injury and disability in the region.
We visited a Roma (Gypsy) village and saw abject poverty in it's raw form. Barefoot children running amongst broken glass in the town dump. Houses made of scrap metal and cardboard and tires. People blackened from the soot of burning anything at all to heat the house or cook food. Men scarred by the violence that sometimes characterizes the community. And a sense of unmistakable pride.
Amongst all of these experiences, though, there is one that will forever plague my heart. One that I have thought of countless times, in all places, in all moods, and with all people. And despite the incredible amount of positive and meaningful experiences I had in Romania- it is this thought, I believe, that is drawing me back to this country.
We took a tour of a maternity hospital while in Oradea. And things were grim and at times surprising; two pregnant women lying in a bed together waiting for delivery, the screams echoing up and down the hallway on the delivery floor, learning that the babies were immediately separated from their mothers after birth, watching a nurse run up the staircase with what appeared to be a bundle of blankets but was actually a newborn. These things, though- I was prepared for them. I could handle the shock and the surprise and the difference.
And then we visited the abandoned baby room. A fairly large, institutional room with one nurse and 12 bassinets. These newborn children are left in the hospital by families who cannot support them, and they lay in cribs. And they have bottles propped up on blankets to feed themselves at two days old, as if to prepare them for a life of forced independence. They are left alone overnight to attempt survival. In reality, there is not the money nor the concern to care for these children who will end up in institutional orphanages. And so these little bundles of baby that should exude potential and joy and laughter and happiness and delicious smells- they become so much less than they could be.
And for 14 months now, I have dreamt about these infants. I have imagined myself holding them, feeding them, pouring love into them. When I was first looking into Romania, I jokingly asked friends if it was feasible to just go and hold babies for a year. The answer is clearly a resounding "NO," so instead I looked for a teaching job. And as excited as I am about teaching English, as wonderful an opportunity as it is, I have a sense that my arms will feel empty.
So now I obsessively watch news reports and videos and read articles about "The Lost Children of Romania." And my heart bleeds for them, and my hands ache to act in a way that will resolve my desperation, and I pray unceasingly for the chance to do something more. Maybe in addition to teaching English in what I expect to be a fairly "cushy" locale, I can make it my mission to hold a bunch of babies.
I'm not baby-crazed. I am abandoned Romanian baby-crazed.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Details
This post will contain nothing spectacular or insightful. Just a fair warning.
I read one time that writing down worries and concerns lulls the mind into a (false) sense of peace before sleep. And because I spent the entirety of last night glancing at the clock every 30 minutes or so, I am going to try it out. A detox for the conscious, of sorts.
1. I have been in frequent contact with my English department head at Scoala #79. We exchanged a few emails today and I learned a lot of new details. For instance- my students have textbooks. This is a big deal. Additionally, I will only be teaching "intensive" English classes, which both frightens and excites me. I will be teaching 18-19 lessons each week, and NO, I have no idea how this works. Also, the teachers are supposed to wear "decent" clothing. Hmm.
2. I discovered that my "flat" (geez, that just SOUNDS cool, right?) may not be available when we first arrive in Bucharest. I was counting on D~ and I being able to stay there during our orientation at the beginning of September. One more thing to add to the list... but at least I know about the possibility now. We haven't really heard any details about the orientation or when D~ needs to/should leave for his placement... all in good time. Probably on August 29th.
3. My parents found a suitcase of massive proportions at Goodwill for $3.00. Massive enough that my friend C~ can fit inside of it. She IS quite tiny, but she honestly crawled completely into this suitcase this past weekend and we could zip the lid. I am not quite as worried about packing anymore. I still have this vision in my head of being forced to drastically eliminate an enormous amount of items at the airport and having to haul this luggage around the world and it being lost somewhere in transit and forgetting something essential in the States. But I have a really big suitcase now.
4. I think that I will bring along said giant suitcase and one more duffel bag as checked luggage. For carry on luggage, I will have my hiking backpack with all the essentials (change of clothing, few toiletries, small blanket, valuables, book, i-Pod, computer, playing cards, etc...) and a purse. Here I will be co-opting the definition of purse by bringing a GIANT tote bag. Plus, it says I am a teacher, so it makes me feel more grown-up and somehow legitimate. I am playing around with the idea of bringing my pillow. My mom did this when we went to Europe, and despite the hassle it caused... it might be nice to have something so familiar.
5. Speaking of familiar things, I am wondering what to bring. I have always craved personal touches to make me feel comfortable in a situation- things like pictures and curtains and rugs. But left with the choice between bringing my vase of fake flowers and a winter jacket, I think I will be forced to ditch the sentimental. So, who has ideas about what I can bring that will remind me of home, and takes up a tiny little bit of space? Maybe a CD with some good songs on it. Suggestions? (You know who you are... help me out!)
6. My personal life is a mess. Some of you know what this is about, many of you don't. But it is sufficient to say that this whole thing is a disaster. A good, wonderful, beautiful kind of disaster- but a heart filled with chaos nonetheless. And doing THIS in the midst of this is an odd experience.
7. I haven't even told D~ this bit of information, but I discovered that it can actually be cheaper to fly from Bucharest to the city he will be teaching in. And so instead of taking 8 hours on a train, it is only about 50 minutes. This makes me happy. I know this is an adventure I need to take. And it is an opportunity I should be happy to experience alone. And I planned to do this before knowing it was even an option for D~. But frankly, it is really nice just to know that someone is just an hour away. He might not be as excited about my reliance on his presence... but it is a great comfort in the moment. And I don't really care what he thinks :)
8. I recently devoured a culture guide on Romania, and I am both more excited and more anxious about living there. I think that I am going to need to be especially sensitive to the fact that the people of this country experienced great hardship under a communist government for many years. I am used to living in a country that forces me to temper down my national pride and assume a position of supplication in order to interact well with the world. This may not be the case in Romania, and this is okay. Development is happening at rapid speed in some places, and peasants live centuries-old traditions in others. This is a country with a history of terrible violence and invasion and foreign rule. This is a country that gained and lost millions of miles of land in the course of two World Wars. This is a country that was handed to the U.S.S.R. after a directive brought about in part by the government of the country I come from. This is a country with Latin roots and Slavic influences and a barrage of other peoples in between. A country with rolling hills and sprawling plains and soaring mountains and beautiful beaches. This untapped, undiscovered, "wild" part of Europe is going to be my home. And here, I shouldn't scoff at the national pride these people carry as they emerge from a centuries old struggle for power and order and self-rule. I cannot laugh at the patriotism as I sometimes do here in the States, for in Romania I feel it has been earned more valiantly, and certainly more recently.
I should be clear that I too am patriotic, I too feel proud of my country in so many ways. When I laugh at patriotism, it is the kind that asserts itself in blatant and hateful ways. Patriotism that excludes people and uses superlatives and invokes God to justify campaigns of misinformation or self-interest around the world. And in Romania, these people have much to be proud of- but it will be nice to exist in a place that hasn't recently invaded someone else. And I promised this post wouldn't contain anything serious or insightful. Ha.
9. Romania is apparently a "couple centric society." Meaning that it is generally unacceptable (according to the book I read and different sites I have browsed) for women to go out in groups together. Additionally, it is apparently perfectly common to get offers of marriage on the street or the bus, or to get fixed up with every available young man your school contact knows. So here are the options as I currently see them: I could lead a desperate and lonely couple-less life in Bucharest. I could endure the annoyance of being constantly fixed up with unsuspecting young men. Or I could meet someone. Hmm...
I wonder which one my mom is most fearful of. Her biggest concern (after the chance that I will be sold into some kind of sex-trafficking ring... we have a code-word, don't worry) is that I will find an abandoned baby and stay into Romania until I can officially adopt it.
My biggest concern is that I won't.
Just joking.
I read one time that writing down worries and concerns lulls the mind into a (false) sense of peace before sleep. And because I spent the entirety of last night glancing at the clock every 30 minutes or so, I am going to try it out. A detox for the conscious, of sorts.
1. I have been in frequent contact with my English department head at Scoala #79. We exchanged a few emails today and I learned a lot of new details. For instance- my students have textbooks. This is a big deal. Additionally, I will only be teaching "intensive" English classes, which both frightens and excites me. I will be teaching 18-19 lessons each week, and NO, I have no idea how this works. Also, the teachers are supposed to wear "decent" clothing. Hmm.
2. I discovered that my "flat" (geez, that just SOUNDS cool, right?) may not be available when we first arrive in Bucharest. I was counting on D~ and I being able to stay there during our orientation at the beginning of September. One more thing to add to the list... but at least I know about the possibility now. We haven't really heard any details about the orientation or when D~ needs to/should leave for his placement... all in good time. Probably on August 29th.
3. My parents found a suitcase of massive proportions at Goodwill for $3.00. Massive enough that my friend C~ can fit inside of it. She IS quite tiny, but she honestly crawled completely into this suitcase this past weekend and we could zip the lid. I am not quite as worried about packing anymore. I still have this vision in my head of being forced to drastically eliminate an enormous amount of items at the airport and having to haul this luggage around the world and it being lost somewhere in transit and forgetting something essential in the States. But I have a really big suitcase now.
4. I think that I will bring along said giant suitcase and one more duffel bag as checked luggage. For carry on luggage, I will have my hiking backpack with all the essentials (change of clothing, few toiletries, small blanket, valuables, book, i-Pod, computer, playing cards, etc...) and a purse. Here I will be co-opting the definition of purse by bringing a GIANT tote bag. Plus, it says I am a teacher, so it makes me feel more grown-up and somehow legitimate. I am playing around with the idea of bringing my pillow. My mom did this when we went to Europe, and despite the hassle it caused... it might be nice to have something so familiar.
5. Speaking of familiar things, I am wondering what to bring. I have always craved personal touches to make me feel comfortable in a situation- things like pictures and curtains and rugs. But left with the choice between bringing my vase of fake flowers and a winter jacket, I think I will be forced to ditch the sentimental. So, who has ideas about what I can bring that will remind me of home, and takes up a tiny little bit of space? Maybe a CD with some good songs on it. Suggestions? (You know who you are... help me out!)
6. My personal life is a mess. Some of you know what this is about, many of you don't. But it is sufficient to say that this whole thing is a disaster. A good, wonderful, beautiful kind of disaster- but a heart filled with chaos nonetheless. And doing THIS in the midst of this is an odd experience.
7. I haven't even told D~ this bit of information, but I discovered that it can actually be cheaper to fly from Bucharest to the city he will be teaching in. And so instead of taking 8 hours on a train, it is only about 50 minutes. This makes me happy. I know this is an adventure I need to take. And it is an opportunity I should be happy to experience alone. And I planned to do this before knowing it was even an option for D~. But frankly, it is really nice just to know that someone is just an hour away. He might not be as excited about my reliance on his presence... but it is a great comfort in the moment. And I don't really care what he thinks :)
8. I recently devoured a culture guide on Romania, and I am both more excited and more anxious about living there. I think that I am going to need to be especially sensitive to the fact that the people of this country experienced great hardship under a communist government for many years. I am used to living in a country that forces me to temper down my national pride and assume a position of supplication in order to interact well with the world. This may not be the case in Romania, and this is okay. Development is happening at rapid speed in some places, and peasants live centuries-old traditions in others. This is a country with a history of terrible violence and invasion and foreign rule. This is a country that gained and lost millions of miles of land in the course of two World Wars. This is a country that was handed to the U.S.S.R. after a directive brought about in part by the government of the country I come from. This is a country with Latin roots and Slavic influences and a barrage of other peoples in between. A country with rolling hills and sprawling plains and soaring mountains and beautiful beaches. This untapped, undiscovered, "wild" part of Europe is going to be my home. And here, I shouldn't scoff at the national pride these people carry as they emerge from a centuries old struggle for power and order and self-rule. I cannot laugh at the patriotism as I sometimes do here in the States, for in Romania I feel it has been earned more valiantly, and certainly more recently.
I should be clear that I too am patriotic, I too feel proud of my country in so many ways. When I laugh at patriotism, it is the kind that asserts itself in blatant and hateful ways. Patriotism that excludes people and uses superlatives and invokes God to justify campaigns of misinformation or self-interest around the world. And in Romania, these people have much to be proud of- but it will be nice to exist in a place that hasn't recently invaded someone else. And I promised this post wouldn't contain anything serious or insightful. Ha.
9. Romania is apparently a "couple centric society." Meaning that it is generally unacceptable (according to the book I read and different sites I have browsed) for women to go out in groups together. Additionally, it is apparently perfectly common to get offers of marriage on the street or the bus, or to get fixed up with every available young man your school contact knows. So here are the options as I currently see them: I could lead a desperate and lonely couple-less life in Bucharest. I could endure the annoyance of being constantly fixed up with unsuspecting young men. Or I could meet someone. Hmm...
I wonder which one my mom is most fearful of. Her biggest concern (after the chance that I will be sold into some kind of sex-trafficking ring... we have a code-word, don't worry) is that I will find an abandoned baby and stay into Romania until I can officially adopt it.
My biggest concern is that I won't.
Just joking.
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