Vama

From day one the words were whispered through the training site halls.  Those volunteers who had been here some time, who had traveled the country, who knew most of the other volunteers, were uttering the phrase.  It could have either been the making of plans or the envious gossip but for a trainee just entering the country the words "Vama Veche" held a mystery and excitement in those first weeks of summer 2009.  The mystery remained as so until last weekends long awaited jaunt to the seaside.

Over the past three years I've heard many mixed feelings about the beach-town Vama Veche but the opinions started flying from the very first week in the country when some group 25 volunteers were planning a repeat trip to the southern most village in Romania.  "O Vama's crazy" they would say as I began asking about it.  "What happens in Vama stays in Vama," they said as they continued to tell me their stories that probably should have been forgotten on their long road out of the sea-side village.  Either way I had to find out more and after asking several people about it I continued to receive conflicting reports:  "It's a rocker beach", "It's a hippie beach", "It's a nudist beach"; "It's too commercial now", "It's not commercial yet"; "you must go there", "you don't want to go there".  It wasn't until recently that I realized the main deference between those reports that I was hearing: 100% of the positive opinions about vama veche came from people who had been there while nearly 100% of the not so positive comments were spoken by people who had only heard about the beach town.  Those that had the experience were promoting it while those that hadn't had the experience somehow had it in their heads that its not a good place to go.

Situated at the south-eastern corner of Romania, Vama Veche is a small Black Sea beach village bordering Bulgaria.  Its location on the border saved it from the communist sea-side resort developments of Ceausescu's time that its planet named neighbors to the north went through (Neptune, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn).  As the village gained notoriety throughout the 90's, partially for its nude beach, a campaign arose to keep it as it is.  The Save Vama Veche campaign addressed tourist developments seen in the late 90s-early 2000's by hosting a protest concert, Stufstock, in 2003.  The campaign has proved effective as local laws were passed halting any new major developments including the repairing of roads, and to this day Vama Veche remains free of large resort-style hotels blocking the view of the sea from the fields beyond the town.

Vama was all that I was hoping for and more.  Its a true beach town with its vendors lined up pushing a bunch of all the same, walk-in fast food joints on the main strip, beach-side bars of all sorts, and beach chairs lined up at certain parts.  The couple of the things that set it apart from typical beach towns are the reasons why people go to Vama.  These include the lack of high-rise hotels, the numerous tents situated on the sand, the naked people down at the end, and the wide variety of people roaming up and down the main strip.  Vama isn't a place for rockers like some say it is, its a place for anybody.  At Vama you'll find rockers, nudists, normal families, people relaxing, people partying, music festival goers, early-risers, and all-night partiers.  We found a nice spot to lay the tent, way up at the northern corner of the beach just beyond the nudists section.  It was there where we could get just a bit of privacy.  It was far enough from the town that we didn't hear any of the noisy beach-side bars when we were trying to sleep but it was still a pleasantly short walk in to the sandier part of the beach, restaurants, and the music festival.  It was there that we made our home for a couple of nice cool nights on the seaside. 

A festival is what we were after but it was only a small part of what we got there.  Music is a great reason to get down to Vama as there are all kinds of music festivals there throughout the summer.  We managed to catch the Jazz festival.  Though I have seen jazz from time to time I have never been to a jazz festival.  We saw some really great acts but the ones that impressed me the most were the Romanian acts that closed out the nights.  The Romanian music wasn't so much jazz as it was jam.  The sounds of the rapid pounding tambal mixed with the legendary drums of Ovidiu Liviu Tandarica to produce some "wake-up" music as it followed some soothing jazz that nearly put me out.  Despite the great music my old age got the better of me and I decided to call it a night at 2ish rather than to stay for the entire show.  Walking past the tent we passed "The Stuff" a club on the sand pumping out loud music and good times for some.  As for me the loud music fainted as I slowly approached the tent and my bed for the evening.

The days were spent on the beach in all meaning of the phrase.  Laying out, reading, swimming through waves and against currents, and of course putting down some cold refreshing beers were all main activities of the day.  I remembered when I was little and I went to the beach with my family.  Knowing that it would be the only couple of days that year that I would see the ocean, I took in all of the wonderful sights, sounds, and especially feelings of the beach.  Feeling the wind against your bare chest, the sand through your tows, and the waves crash into you.  The waves of the Atlantic always seemed much larger than these at the Black Sea.  Is it the difference in size of the body of water or the person standing in it?  Just like those times when I was at the beach as a kid I had to leave eventually even though I didn't want to.

The trip back to Bucharest was a tough one.  Sunday evening is not a good time to leave the beach mainly because it is the time that everyone wants to leave the beach.  After spending a couple of hours on a hot mini-bus in traffic we switched to a hot, overcrowded train to add another 3 hours to our trip.  Factoring in the travel time there and back I wouldn't go to Vama without staying at least two nights, which makes it necessary to take off either a Monday or a Friday.  I wonder if I'll be able to get back down there one more time before I leave Romania.

PIFF

At the beginning Peace Corps seems like one big step outside of your comfort zone.  You ship off with a bunch of new people to a place where you are injected into the local culture and you are supposed to adapt and get used to it, a thing they call integration.  The idea is that after you're integrated you can effectively function at your site and the pain of that step outside of your comfort zone wears off.  It turns out that it doesn't stop there.  In fact, that big jump out of your comfort zone is followed by a series of smaller yet similar steps out.  Maybe it is the desire for a PCV to keep things fresh or it could be the "Yes Man" philosophy to integration that pre-service training pushes.  Whatever it is, after over three years in Peace Corps this past weekend I found myself yet again stepping outside of my comfort zone to present selective collection workshop at an international film festival. 

The name of the festival is the Pelicam International Film Festival (PIFF).  The title combined the word "pelican", representing the festival's nature theme and its location at the entrance of the Danube Delta, and te work "camera", indicating its focus on film.  Weeks before I received a message from my colleague with the offer to go and present, as a MaiMultVerde (MMV) representative in Tulcea.  I jumped at the chance, knowing that Tulcea was on the edge of the Delta, a region that I have yet to visit.  As the event slowly approached my emotions gradually lifted and I spent the four days leading up to the event studying selective collection and MMV's stance on the issue.  Taking on this particular responsibility was a jump out of my comfort zone for a few reasons. - 1) I am no expert on the topic of collective selection but I will probably be seen somewhat as one. 2) I'm not a great public speaker and though I can usually handle myself in front of a crowd its a different story in another language(that being Romanian).  3) Though I found myself on a bus to Tulcea with a bunch of other "invitees" I did not know any of them.  4)  Finally, I prepared a nice presentation that included a short documentary produced by MMV in 2010 but it was supposed to be a "workshop", not necessarily a presentation, whatever that means.  Despite these measures that worked to raise my level of anxiety I knew one thing that I have realized more in PC than anywhere else which is that "what doesn't kill you will make you stronger" and I figured that the experience would be a valuable one that I would learn from.  

It was the first edition of PIFF and after arriving, getting settled in, visiting the venue and speaking with the organizers I had the sense they were quite nervous about how everything would come off.  Despite this sense of nervousness, from the beginning the festival seemed well organized.  There was a photo exhibit in the lobby, there was already information available about the festival and its program, there were posters all over town, I was able to get into the workshop room a day early to check out the room and test the equipment.  Already, after the first couple hours of being in Tulcea I felt more comfortable about presenting and I felt honored to have the chance to be a part of the festival.  That evening I attended the opening of the festival where a great movie about the Bolivian water wars, Tambien la lluvia, played to mark the start of a nice weekend of films highlighting environmental issues.

Tulcea is an old port city on the Danube dating back to 7th century BC.  It is the take-off point for anyone wanting to venture into the UNESCO world heritage site, the Danube Delta.  Tulcea is also quite a diverse city with Romanians, Turks, Russians, Roma and other minorities present.  Near our hotel in the center of the city I found a set of three statues including a Ukrainian, a Romanian, and Ataturk.  The walk along the water is not an extremely pretty walk but its usually nice to be by the water watching the boats and checking out the restaurant boats parked along the water's edge.  I used the word "usually" because I found out fast on my Friday evening stroll along the water that the place was swarming with mosquitoes, so much that I preferred to retire early to my hotel room. If you go to Tulcea in the summer, limit your nice water-side walks to early mornings when it is cool and there are not so many mosquitoes out to eat you up.  The following morning I walked up to Independence Monument which provided a nice panoramic view of the city.  The monument was erected for the soldiers who fought to free the country from Ottoman rule from 1877 to 1888.  Other highlights of Tulcea include an aquarium/museum, a nice center square which hosted a concert, a film viewing from PIFF and a farmers market where I bought some smoked cheeze, and a lake on one end of the city where fishermen gather along one side and swimmers gather along a beach on another side.  Surely I took advantage of most of what Tulcea had to offer.  Unfortunately it's main attraction, the Danube Delta, I had to put off until my next visit.

The films that I caught where both entertaining and relevant.  Aside from the opening film, I caught an Austrian documentary called "Plastic Planet", my second viewing of "Gassland", a film about the wild horses of the Delta called "Gone Wild", and a short film about the disappearing Aral Sea.  The documentary "Plastic Planet" nicely followed my presentation on selective collection and it comically showed the impact of plastic in our lives by having people take all of their plastic items from there homes and put them on their front lawns.  The image of a family sitting in plastic lawn chairs surrounded by everything from toys to clothes to household appliances remains in my thoughts a week later.  I guess that's the purpose of a documentary.  I chose to see "Gassland" a second time because a debate/discussion followed the viewing focusing on the status of fracking in Romania and Europe.  It was so interesting to me that such a heated topic in my home on the other side of the world has become the same here in Romania.  Finally "Gone Wild" was shown as the festival's closing film and it highlighted a phenomenon close to home in Tulcea with the wild horse population growing in the Danube Delta. 

Once again I find myself taking a step outside of my comfort zone and not only learning and growing from it but also experiencing a new place and new people.  My emotions subsided as I had some time to chat with the small audience before beginning my presentation.  A couple of guys in the audience were especially active with their comments which led to an overall constructive discussion regarding the status, opinions and education regarding recycling in Romania.  The festival organizers were especially friendly and they helped me to get to know and get along with the other invitees as we hung out and talked until early morning hours after the festival's closing celebration.  Looking back I realize that in order to have these nice, memorable experiences you not only have to accept those invitations to step outside of your sphere of comfort but you have to also invite those invitations.  If I never let it be known to my colleagues that I would like to get down to the Delta sometime I wouldn't have experienced PIFF.

iRAF

As we strolled into the venue I was taken back to the first time I laid my eyes on such a scene.  It was a dusty gray yard surrounded by red brick buildings degrading in front of your eyes.  The level of activity on the ground was far less then the speakers would care to indicate as they were pumping out tunes from Romania's oldest DJ.  This was the opening scene of a festival much like one I attended at the very same venue months before.  Looking out from the stage the performer sees a medium sized field of grey dust, the remains of the degrading foundations surrounding the area.  One of those very foundations toward the back was where some other concert goers happened to be waiting, eating, drinking.  Atop the foundation to the right is a brick building with a much larger whole in it than what I remembered from my last visit.  The main permanent feature of the grounds is a large brick tower in the center whey they were serving beer in September but since then they must have realized the roof could come down at any moment because this time the beer was located under a tent next to the tower.   The grounds were dead but it was only the beginning and we knew it would pick up once the DJ exited stage right to allow some actual musical instruments to tune up and get the show started.  In the meantime I decided to look at a photo exhibit installed on some graffitied walls to the left of the stage.

The photo exhibit was enough to get me into the cultural event at hand, more so than the film it followed anyway.  The day began with a showing of a film about the Roma Holocaust.  The topic of the film was more interesting than the film itself and I blame that on the setting.  The viewing took place an hour late in an dark underground bar on a nice summer afternoon.  Subtitles in English didn't exist and the ones in Romanian I couldn't see anyway as the statues of my eyesight continues to degrade, especially in dark places.  The photo exhibit on the other hand was located out in the sun where I could actually read its good amount of text.  The photos depicted a group of nomadic Roma from Transylvania.  If you've ever seen Roma in movies, pictures, or listened to songs romanticizing their life then these are probably the ones you've heard of. 

Vojasa, pronounced voyasa, was the first band to go on and from the start they proved not to disappoint beginning the show with just two of there members on stages playing a unique percussion opening.  From start to finish the container playing musician spat beats into the microphone bringing back memories of Ternipe on the same stage in September.  The music, very similar to Ternipe, consisted of traditional Roma tunes with more of a rock feel supporting it from behind.  Suddenly the dust pile in front of the stage was being kicked around by a good sized crowd unable to stand still in the presence of such an energetic sound.  By the end of their show, a word unknown to much of the ex-pat crowd, "Vojasa" was being chanted loudly throughout the venue.

The energy was pushed up a notch by the nights headliner band out of Belgium, Antwerp Gypsy Ska Orchestra.  A couple of days earlier I listened to one or two of their tunes online and I wasn't all that impressed by the music but I could see the energy they brought to the stage and knowing a bit about ska music from my younger punk rock days I was confident that in the moment I would dig it.  Sure enough the music just intensified my own dancing and the entire group I was with moved right up to the stage to get the full effect.  The combination of the brass section, dancing onstage, and the charismatic front man made for a show that you want to last all night.  Unfortunately they were cut off shortly after 11. 

Once again Roma music at Gradina Uranus proved to be a great show and a great experience that I hope to catch at least once more before I leave this part of the world.  Last year's Balkan Fest was in September and in the September to come I just may be roaming back through the area to catch round two of that show.  Either way I am sure to be bringing this music along with me wherever I go as music by bands like Ternipe and Mahala Rai Banda never fail to put a smile on my face and a jump in my step. 

A proper send-off

A little over two years ago I landed in Romania with a group of 37 other Americans. Eleven weeks of training later I officially became a Peace Corps volunteer(PCV) and traveled with two great PCV friends to my site. That site has since become a home away from home. Seeing the seasons change in the Jiu Valley over the past two years has been an experience like no other. Every day has its beauties and an evening rarely passes that I don't look back on the day realizing how lucky I am to have been sent here. It's been 664 days since my arrival here and this past weekend it all came around full circle to make for a slightly early but very sweet goodbye.

Day two of site visit and Parang hike #1 was a great indicator of how I would be spending my free time in the Jiu Valley. Back then, communication between Ernest and I was slow going. We both had dictionaries in hand and by the time I returned to Targoviste after the visit only one word really stuck... stana (meaning sheepfold). At that point in the language learning experience so much information was trying to enter my head all at once, therefore not much actually stayed. It was however, my first full day of communicating verbally only in Romanian. That specific hike was to Lacul Mija, a place that I have returned to several times during my stay here. This past weekend was my last weekend in the area before moving out. With a guest coming to visit on Sunday I knew that Saturday would be the last major hike as a resident of Petrosani. I found it fitting when the text message appeared on my phone suggesting Saturday's hike be Lacul Mija, ending where I started.

The forecast said rain all day in Parang. I was there and I can tell you that it didn't rain at all. Sometimes the forecast can scare people off the mountain. A colleague of mine insisted that she wanted to come but she didn't want to spend all day in the rain. Admittedly I was a bit worried about the rain, but rain alone is no good reason to stay off the mountain. It ended up being a somewhat cloudy but mostly sunny day. The best part of the Lacul Mija hike is when you round the corner to the back side of Carja peak. In that small valley the city, the pollution, the people, and the ski area all disappear. Nature’s stereo pumps the greatest hits of the spring below whose rushing waters come from nowhere it seems. Mija peak forms a bowl with just a bit of water in its center. That bowl can be seen when looking at Parang from Petrila. What can't be seen from that part of the hike are the Dacias, the maxi-taxi's, and the train, the second-hand stores, the restaurants, and the blocks, the buna ziua, ceau, and la revedere. These are all things that I've come to love in Romania but an occasional escape is a necessary part of any relationship. Like the first time on that open trail between peaks, Ernest was the guide. Unlike the first time I decided not to enter the near freezing temperatures of the lake.

The day continued. Peace Corps has been an incredible exercise in meeting people and even though I will be leaving the area soon I am still meeting new people. I recently met some great Moldovan students in town with whom I attended Petrosani Days after hanging in their dorm for a bit. Dragos came out with us for the concert and there we were, one American, one Romanian, and a bunch of Moldavians eagerly awaiting the evening’s musical entertainment. That entertainment consisted of a lot of dj, dancing, lip sinking music before the headliner Zdob si Zdub came on. I first saw Zdob si Zdub at Peninsula in August and the music instantly took me back to my punk rock fan days. The high energy rock mixed with cultural music reminded me of the ska and irish punk rock bands that I used to catch at the Vans Warped Tour. Most people I know in Petrosani are more into the dj kind of music so it was nice to be there jumping up and down to some good rock music with the Moldavians who were appreciating one of their own bands far from home. Like the students I was hanging with, Zdob si Zdub are from the Republic of Moldova.

Zdob si Zdub in Petrosani, 04 June 2011

Finally at almost one in the morning I left the concert during the encore to meet a friend at the train station who was coming in on an hour late train from Bucharest. There on the catwalk above the train tracks I watched the final fireworks show as the exploding lights rose above the largest of Petrosani's blocks in front of me. Standing there admiring the fireworks I noted how the days activities and current situation acted as a fitting send-off. So much of this experience has been an individual discovery of who I am, what is possible, and there I was alone watching the fireworks. It has been an experience in travel, seeing the world, becoming part of a new place, and there I was yet again with the tracks below me waiting for the next train to come in. It has been an experience of developing new friendships, and there I was waiting for one of my best Romanian friends to arrive. There I was with city blocks in front of me, the fireworks above, and a million memories of the past two years to smile upon.

Peninsula 2010

A week ago today I arrived at Peninsula music festival in Targu Mures. I got the idea of attending from a group 27er a week earlier but I had a week long English camp to attend which ran into festival time. I figured that my chances of going were slim until I ran it by Justin and Jerod a couple nights into the camp. I figured that if they were down then I was down. Justin was in.

Friday, with the help of some great Romanians we made it to the festival before that day's music had started. Our wonderful host at the camp gave us a ride to Alba, took us around to a couple locations so we could find a tent, and even took us for some mici before dropping us off at the proper hitching spot. By then it wasn't a surprise that she would be so helpful to us. All week long she had been available to provide us with anything we needed weather it be materials/assistance for our English lessons or wine from the crama. We stayed at the hitching spot only 15 minutes before Paul stopped. Paul had a very little Daewoo and we had a lot of baggage. There we were, 3 of us and a lot of baggage and we still had to pick up one more. Now that's Romanian hospitality. Just and I were packed into the back seat next to my baggage while Mihai and Paul were in the front, the four of us bound for Targu Mures.

Paul seemed to be quite knowledgeable about the music that would be offered to us upon entering the festival. I, on the other had, was not at all knowledgeable about the music and that is what I liked so much about it. I was entering the gates to a musical world of discovery and I would leave with a list of newly found treasure. Unfortunately they wouldn't let us take the wine in so we left it in the car. Paul and Mihai went to watch Parov Stellar while Just and I continued on to the campground to set up. After stopping by the 27er tents Just and I were lucky enough to make it back to Parov Stellar and catch a few great songs, the first band on my treasure list of music. Asher showed up and we oriented him with the campground before making our way back to the Fest for some food and The Rasmus. After about 5 songs it was time to ditch The Rasmus and move on to the Ciuc commercial that was Dan Helciug si spitalul de urgenta. The entire time Dan was holding his Ciuc hand high. That show led us to the nights climax performance that was Gorillaz Sound System. I dig the Gorillaz but they're animated. I had no clue what to expect. It turned out being some great Gorillaz music with some interesting animations projected onto a large screen hanging from the stage. It was cool, unexpected, and it earned a great response from the crowd.

The night continued. Gorillaz Sound System was followed by some hanging out, and raising our glasses to the night before making our way to Freedom Music Arena(FMA). The Arena is where the djs go and where the party lasts until 5 in morning every night. We walked in to Fedde le Grand of the Netherlands spinning. After dancing until 3 am the music stopped. I was shocked when I realized that this guy was up there playing with his equipment, non-stop, from well before I arrived. A new-found respect for djs. The next addition to my treasure-list of music walked onto the stage and began playing not 10min after Fedde exited. One benefit of dj music is minimal setup time required. The Romanian group Suie Parparude commanded the crowd and packed the FMA. I will not try to describe the music but I will recommend checking it out. Time for bed.

Saturday pre-music highlights include a walk around Tg. Mures, pulling a painful metal splinter from my foot, waking up on the grass next to a swimming pool shocked and a bit scared having no clue where I was (not drunk, just really tired), and a nice phone chat with my parents. Music highlights started with Phoenix, a band from the 70's that fled communism and returned to Romania decades later to rock out. I hung out with Paul and Mihai at that show. Next to go on was Europe. We all knew just one song by Europe and patiently waited for it to come, "The Final Countdown". Following Europe we wandered to see part of Tricky and then headed for the FMA when it began to rain. Returning to our tents after another late night dance session we found our stuff a bit wet from the hole in the top of the tent(no rain fly). I through my rain coat up over the hole and climbed into my bag to pass out.



Sunday was cloudy, rainy, and cold most of the day. While many people were packing up there tents and leaving there was quite the influx of rockers sporting Korn shirts, the big act to go on that evening. When the music finally came the group of volunteers made it to the main stage after eating to catch most of what I would call the best act at the fest. Zdob si Zdub of Moldova mix traditional Moldovan and Roma music into their hardcore ska style of rock, added to my list. The Korn show that night brought back some memories of middle-school and high-school. Finally before leaving the fest to catch our 3:30am personal back to Alba we caught most of the one man show named DubFX, the final addition to my list concluding my first Romanian festival experience.

Cool things to mention:
Fire dancers, collecting our beer cups to recycle and earn bracelits and a "t-shirt", awesome group of 27ers and 26ers mixed, huge pool, hanging with the group plus Romanian friends drinking down our wine by the lake, hamsii, nothing got stolen.

Turkey, Round 2

One of the many benefits of this Peace Corps experience is that I am getting the chance to travel to places that I wouldn't otherwise visit. When I learned that I was going to be serving in Romania I was excited about a number of things. I immediately googled Romania to learn what I could. I was excited for the culture, my job of teaching English, learning the language, meeting the people, and of course, being able to travel to all of those western European places that we learn about in history class, from fellow travelers, and from movies like Eurotrip. Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin, London, Madrid, Vienna, Rome..... There are so many, too many places to see. For that reason I never would have imagined re-visiting a place. I have only limited time and funds while I am here to take advantage of Romania's somewhat central location. Turkey had that kind of impression on me. Leaving Istanbul the first time I swore that I would return. I continued to chat with the friends that I made while I was there and before long we had our next visit scheduled.
The trip began with a totally different perspective of Istanbul. The first time we stayed in the center of Sultanahmit, the historical tourist district. This last time, still in Istanbul, we stayed in D's flat, a 30 min highway drive into the Asian side of the city. Istanbul is huge. By staying on the Asian side and commuting to the European side we got a chance to really see how big the city is. For those first couple of days our hostesses, Z and D, showed us around the city, taking us to parks, on ferries, a palace, some nice drives, and some great restaurants. Then came the road trip.

D had a couple of weeks of vacation and of course, she wanted to get to a beach to do some sea-side relaxing. We got started early in the morning and watched the sunrise while eating a toast(grilled cheese sandwich) from the second deck of a ferry crossing the sea of Maramura. Our first of 2 major stops was a beach outside of a city called Avylik located on the Aegean Sea. The two days spent near Avylik included a lot of relaxing on a beach covered with Turkish families, swimming/floating in the salty waters, a neat little sea-side tourist town with delicious fish, and an incredible sun setting over islands. We took the advice of a nice Turkish man who had been living in Orlando, FL for 6 years. "Go to Marmaris, there are more international tourists there and more young people there." Off to Marmaris we went.

The road to Marmaris was incredible. We stopped at a small family owned restaurant on the side of the highway. The little boys were the servers, the big brother the bar man, and the parents were the cooks. The food was so good and the atmosphere was nice, outside, very green, with ducks running around the tables. There was a section of the road that must have gone through some kind of national park. The landscape was uninhabitable with large rocks covering every piece of land available.

Marmaris is a large tourist town and a national park situated on the Mediterranean Sea with more English people in the summer months than Turks. We filled up our schedule with activities as soon as we were settled into our hotel, a stones throw from the sea-side. The activities included a boat cruise around the area, scuba, and a jeep cruise around the area. These activities not only allowed us the chance to see Marmaris and all that it had to offer, but it also allowed us to meet a lot of cool people, both tourists and locals. Probably my favorite part of our time there was when D took us to a small village at the very end of this little road. The village had only a couple of residences, a hotel, and a nice beach. As I swam in the water beyond the dock I watched the sun slowly descend behind the jagged mountain peaks that abruptly rise out of the sea.

The long drive back started in the late morning and ended in the late evening. At one point I questioned whether we would make it all the way back to Istanbul in a single day. We finally made it after a long wait in traffic leading to the ferry and a not so long ferry ride. The following day D took us to our bus station to catch a bus that had left 30 min before we arrived at the station. The internet site of the bus company told us that the bus leaves at 5 but the man that we woke up at the station told us 3. One more night in Istanbul and D was happy to host us that night. We went bowling and returned to her place to watch a movie. After the full day in the car we had a day of rest before another full day/night of taking a bus back to Romania.
I can't say whether Turkey, Round 2 was better or worse than Round 1. Both trips were spent with incredible people, in an incredible place, eating incredible food. Even though I can't decided which I liked more, they were two totally different experiences. Big group v. small group. Istanbul Europe v. Istanbul Asia, city v. beach, winter v. summer. Two trips to Turkey was enough to firmly establish itself in my memories and in my heart. I left Turkey this time thinking that I probably will not return during my Peace Corps service in Romania. There are too many other, close-by places to see. I'm certain that sometime in the more distant future I will find myself in Turkey yet again.

Şebek

Şebek (shebek) is a Turkish word meaning baboon. Turks also use this term to describe a clown-like entertainer. In my understanding a şebek is a person that makes other people laugh, but those people are laughing at the şebek rather than at some funny joke he/she recited. That being said, a şebek must be someone that doesn't mind being laughed at. It wasn't long into our recent road trip through Turkey that I was labeled a şebek.

In my language learning adventure with Romanian I have learned so much about words, expressions, and accents. Even though learning a new language can be extremely tiring and stressful I have found ways to have fun with it. Many of us have heard the funny Indian accent of gas-station clerk on The Simpsons, or the countless comedic Chinese accents in so many movies including "Dude Where's My Car." We have also been able to laugh at other English accents, for example the Wisconson accent of "Fargo", or, my favorite, the southern accent of "Talladega Nights." Speaking in a foreign language, I have come to accept and even enjoy the entertainment that I offer others when I attempt to speak. In that rare occasion that I don't make one of the many possible grammatical mistakes, I still bring an interesting accent to the conversation that often times elicits a snicker if I'm speaking with somebody new. It brings a smile to there face, my face, and more often than not, it's understood. I had quite a bit of language fun in Turkey and this is in large part why I learned the Turkish term "Şebek" so fast.

I went to Turkey knowing some basic words from my last visit (hello, how are you, I'm very good, numbers, goodbye). I was excited to use some of those words and maybe even learn a few more. Soon into our visit I realized that our stay in Turkey would be quite the language learning adventure. Our hostess who speaks English well was unable to go on the road-trip with us, leaving us with a hostess who knew only basic English, so I thought. I say "so I thought" because up until that point I hadn't really spoken with her, only some google translater copy/paste action over skype. Monday morning we set off on a week long road-trip along the west coast of Turkey, two Americans, and one Turk.

In the 25+ hours spent in the car we all did some language learning, but for the most part site-mate and I were the teachers. Mama D, our hostess and friend, works incredibly hard to learn English. Since we last saw her in February she had made significant improvements. She would rarely get discouraged even though at times the fatigue of language learning and driving showed.




At first site-mate and I thought that the trip with mama D would be a bit tiring for us all trying to communicate with each other. Despite our doubts about the communication we vowed to go into the trip with a positive attitude. No matter what we were on vacation in Turkey, and we would have fun. The trip was a complete success largely to do with our positive attitudes, mama D's determination with the language, and Turkey's natural beauty. By the end we had developed an incredible relationship and made some lasting memories. Once again I noticed that when you're traveling it's the people you are with, rather than the place, that make the experience unforgettable. I also noticed that even when you are Şebek, attempting to learn and speak a foreign language goes a long way. Not only do you make people laugh but you also earn there respect by showing an honest effort to communicate rather than expecting them to speak English fluently.

3 weeks gone

Three weeks and a few days ago I finished up my first school year and left site that night to start my 3+ week stint away from site. It only took a couple of days to pull together my busy summer schedule. As soon as I found out that I was accepted to help out at practicum I started knocking weeks down scheduling English camps and a vacation. I was excited to get out and explore during the summer but when the time came to leave site I had a different kind of feeling.

When it came time to leave site I didn't really want to leave. I remembered the uncomfortable heat and mosquitoes of the south. That last week in PST was one of the hottest that I've endured and here I was in one of the cooler places in the country at 600m above sea level. Even though I was teaching up until the day that I left my hours had reduced and I was only teaching 9th grade that last week. I was spending more time at school in the teachers room chatting with colleagues. I was also spending more time after school with some of the recently graduated 12th graders. That last week I enjoyed watching a couple incredible thunderstorms roll through my area where I saw more lighting bolts per minute than I've ever seen before. I fell asleep nightly with my balcony doors open listening to the sound of the stream below my block. That last day at site I had train rides and a 2 week hotel stay to look forward to. I was trading in the sound of the stream for the sound of cars and dogs.

The next day many of my fears of missing site were set at ease when I was reunited with some great PCV friends in Bucharest. No longer was I thinking about trading my site life for south life but instead trading time with good people at site for time with good people elsewhere.

Practicum was a great, interesting, and stressful experience the first time through and here I was returning to see it from a different perspective. No longer did I have to worry about lesson planning and performing in front of 30 strangers with someone in the back scribbling judgments on a paper. I saw the new group go through a lot of the same torture that I went through a year earlier. Some of the torture included...
coming in on a Saturday to plan, learning how to work with others that may have incredibly different teaching/planning styles, loosing students in the middle of a lesson, receiving negative feedback, late hours of planning followed by early hours of teaching, planning over a drink at the omb, stressing on the language, and dozing off in afternoon sessions.
Despite the torture a lot of good comes out of practicum. People with zero previous experience in lesson planning get the opportunity to jump-start their skills through practice and careful observation of there more experienced colleagues.

Working at practicum I had a great experience to spend some time with the new group of volunteers, some of which I got to know pretty well over world-cup beers. After 2 weeks of observing them and helping them through practicum I feel confident in there up-coming services. I observed a lot of unity, positivity, and willingness to adapt, all qualities valued in a PCV. I came out of my second practicum experience having learned a lot both about teaching and the new group, allowing me to reflect on my PC experience until now.

After practicum I spent half of a day and a night traveling to Timisoara to take part in my first English camp of the summer. TETA was a two week camp but I only worked there for the second week. It is a camp entirely taught by Peace Corps Romania TEFL volunteers but organized and supported by an incredible group of Romanians that made me feel both appreciated and supported during the week I was there. I had the opportunity to teach younger students which is very different than the high school teaching that I'm used to. Classes were fun, the students were wonderful, and I met some great Romanians that were helping us out with the kids.

After 4 hours of teaching each day I typically returned to my dorm conveniently placed in the center of the center of Timisoara. The great location of our housing and our relatively short teaching schedule opened up the city to us, allowing us to see Timisoara without limitation. Timisoara is a beautiful city peppered in historical monuments and gorgeous parks. To top it off, The Festival of Hearts began on Wednesday night and occupied our last three nights in Timi. Festivalul Inimilor brought together traditional music and dance acts from all around Romanian and even from other countries. Thursday night we saw acts from Sibiu, Turkey, and Costa Rica. After six days in Timi I got to know at least the center of the city well and now it is harder to pick my favorite of the large Romanian cities. Despite the incredibly positive experience I was happy to get on that early Saturday morning accelerate(train) back to site.

Today's overcast weather is allowing me the chance to stay in, relax, and reflect on the past several weeks of traveling, meeting new people, working, and living out this Peace Corps experience. Even though I have been a bit stressed at times, in a rush at times, moving around, the past 3 weeks have been both busy and productive and I don't yet regret this busy summer schedule. Now its on to the next adventure.

Pictures:
1: one of the practicum groups doing an egg drop for their lesson.
2: two of my wonderful students at the TETA camp.
3: Timisoara Opera House in Piata Victoriei.