'Cause I'm Proud to be a Romanian?

"Cause I'm proud to be a Romanian? Where I don't blend in at all....."

That's what I was thinking tonight when we took this picture. Today, January 24th is Unification Day- the day several smaller states in the area all joined together around 200 years ago to form "Romania." Flags are lining the streets.

We were told there would be a military parade, and I was dying to go, but was told by someone it would be while we were at the orphange in the morning. To our surprise, as Hannah and I walked home from teaching English at the kindergarten, all of a sudden we noticed no traffic on the road and heard a drum beat and a band. Towards us came marching a huge crowd of people- maybe 500- about 300 in the parade, and 200-300 walking alongside.

 It's not like in America where the family gets out the lawn chair and stays in one place. And there aren't ten billion floats. Just a military band, soldiers marching, and then 2 groups of soldiers (maybe 60 in each group) marching holding torches. Really cool looking, but small. And the people walk alongside the parade, on the sidewalks, on the street, and following behind the soldiers. Grandpas with their sweet Russian fur hats are holding their grandkids' hands. It's an event. 

We stopped to take pictures, but then I was like, "If we are on the other side of the world- we're not just gonna watch and then keep going, like we watched it on Youtube or something. I'm a proud Romanian! Let's walk along with the people behind for a while." So we did. Two American girls, proud to be... in Romania, at least. It was a moment we lived- not watched. Only problem- we still had our Little People barn from teaching the kids Old MacDonald at the preschool/kindergarten, so yeah- I totally blended in.

Other highlights of today: We transferred some boys from my room in the orphanage to an apartment. They are normal, they are healthy, and the prospects of them being adopted are better than for others. So- they get to live in an apartment with 6 other children, where they will share a bedroom with one other person, and have a kitchen, living room, and food in the fridge to eat whenever they want instead of scheduled snacks and meals. It is a very nice set-up. I got to go along for the ride. The kids loved looking out the window in the car. They were even a little scared at first- imagine never being in a car or moving faster than a toddler walk, and then suddenly zooming through a city. It could be frightening. So, I got to hold a cute little guy on my lap. It was the best. 

At the apartment a worker lady is like the "mom"- making lunch for the kids, bathing them, putting them to sleep. Sometimes there are 2 workers. She has a hard job. All the orphanage workers do. But they love the kids- so they do it. The lady at the apartment had just finished some Romanian pancakes they told me- and they offered me an entire one to myself! It was like a crepe: a thin pancake with something sweet rolled up in the middle. I honestly have no idea what was on the inside. Something purple and sweet, but it had the consistency of beans.  

Also today, there is a girl in my room that looks right around one that cruises around in her walker, but who is either in a walker or a crib all the time. So, I lifted her out, and we practiced walking today. She took some very wobbly steps. She doesn't crawl at all. I'd set her down, then scoot a few scoots away and tell her “Ven aici!” (come here) and instead of crawling, she'd stand up from where she was, and take a very wobbly 3 steps towards me. It's the cutest thing in the world. It's so special to be a part of something like that- someone's first steps, literally.

I love my work. It is so tiring. When you're bouncing kids on balls, and bending over to talk to them, and pushing them around on little cars, and walking around the room- it just wears you out. But- it's wonderful. And honestly, in the morning I pray for God to give me energy, and He does. Until I go home. Then- my work is done, the energy leaves. I slept a solid 9 hours last night, and was still exhausted after work today. I guess that's how you know it's worth it?

Orphan Life

Orphan life- was.... not at all what I expected.

This morning, I thought to myself, "Wait a second... I have never ever met an orphan before." I guess I thought I did, because I've met adopted orphans before, and I've watched the musical Annie 20 times, so I thought I knew all about how orphans scrub the floors and sing "Hard-Knock-Life" 24-7.

Nope. They don't do that.

The first thing I noticed was how clean it was. We had to change our shoes- it was so clean. No dust, no dirt, nothing. And- it smelled like taco soup, not feces. And the walls were pink and yellow with paintings of Disney characters and smiling faces, not white prison walls. And- the staff was friendly, and motherly, and kind to the children, holding them and hugging them and being patient when the children went slower than the staff would have preferred- not yelling and smacking their faces and whipping them into slave labor. And there was a music therapy room, and a physical therapy room, speech therapy, an autism specialist area, several specialized social workers, plus certified nurses and a kitchen staff too. They even have a daycare, a preschool, and some apartments where kids about to be adopted make a transition into family life. It's very well heated, the kids are all in clean clothes, and the children's faces are clean- not snotty or crusty or anything. Not one drunk Ms. Hannigan.

That's how I know I've watched too many movies...

Actually, orphan life seems... pretty good. Did I just say that? The only downside, and it's a HUGE downside- don't get me wrong- is having to stay in the same room all day every day every year, and having an overwhelming child to adult ratio. There's lots of love- just maybe not enough of it to go around.

So- I'm glad I came. I've got some wuv! There's lots of different rooms- and the 5 of us interns each get to work in a different one. There's a room with severely sick adults, infant babies, toddler babies, healthy kids ages 2-8, and severely disable adults. We rotated around and tried half an hour in each today. I liked all of them. The kids were happy, they laughed easily. They liked to be touched. I held a lot of hands and said the one word I'm really awesome at in Romanian, "Buna" (hello). There was a moment when I first entered the infant room, where I kinda got teary- all these children are children of God, and He loves them so much, and I bet He wishes they could have families.

I think I knew which room I wanted to be assigned to when I saw the kids waiting for me at the glass door when I walked up. All 10 of them. The room with healthy 2-8 year olds. They all want to talk to you- and I sure wanted to talk to all of them too. There was music, and so I asked them to dance with me, and we had a dance party. Then we played chase and they all chased me around. There was a moment when I was on the ground, two kids were on my shoulders, and another rammed into my lap. I loved it.

Dad- this is the part where I felt like you. All these kids simultaneously attacking you. What do you do? Body slam them, of course. Playfully take them off you and "slam" (gently, of course, but with enough force to be fun and make them laugh) them into the ground. I was in my element. It all ended too soon. I can't wait to see them in the morning. I love them already.

Exploring Iasi

Things abut Iasi that you'd never find in America:

1. Stray dogs. In packs. One hands around our apartment. Others sit by crosswalks in groups of 6-7. Came from when under communism, people couldn't keep pets in certain homes, and couldn't afford to feed very many pets either. Like stray cats in America- but more. 

2. Chocolate. European chocolate is the yummiest. We went all the way to the grocery store just to buy chocolate. I feel like my mother.

3. Mall decorations: Decorated barrells. What an interesting idea. Pretty sure you'd never find a barrel with lingerie all over it in America...

That blue thing coming out of it is an arm.

Legs sticking out? What the heck. :)

4. Donor Kebabs! Scrum-di-ddl-y-ump-tious: (adjective) Donor Kebabs. No alternative definitions sufficient.

5. Pastries. Lots of them. Delicious too. 

6. A very old university. Like BYU- but cooler architecture, cooler pillars. Iasi is the 2nd largest city in Romania, because of the university. The population doubles when school is in session.

7. Old churches. Lots of famous people built these. Most are Orthodox, some are Catholic.

This one is Catholic.

Just look at how intricate this design is:

8. Silly manicans. In America, all store manicans for clothing are white, with unpronounced facial features. Here- they're all over the board. They even have huge guts with outie belly buttons, like this dude.

But- Hannah fell in love, so whatevs. 

9. Bianca. A girl our age that just so happens to live next door to the podul ros apartment and who just so happens to be graduating from the university in July in geography and hopes to work as a tour guide. Seriously? We're so lucky. She did a great job guiding us around Iasi today.

10. Underground shopping centers.

11. Cool side shops. There were some similar in DC, but not like this. It's like a mini-farmers market, but they're mostly clothing items, and all the little huts are identical. 

12. Gypsies. Today in the mall we saw the first glimpse of what Hannah said was a gypsy.

 Long skirts, head scarves, big earrings.

13. An unusual number of people limping. We saw three people limping on the way to church. 

This man is one of many.

14. Everyone dressed the same. All Romanians tend to dress the same: leather boots/shoes, dark pants/skinny jeans, dark long coats, warm hats. I didn't think I would stand out as "American", until I realized I was the only one I had seen all day in tennis shoes. This man is very typical. Plus check out his Russian hat. 

 

15. Traditional Romanian clothing: 

Other cool stuff:

Lights above the street.

 

An elementary school- scoala primara

City hall- with lights that make it look like the walls are diamonds.

A very ritsy mall:

A teacup shop:

Strollin':

Apartments:

Happy Late Christmas to Me!

Bradley sent these pictures and said to put them on my blog. :)

Made me happy. I like reading Bradley's emails about his missionary work every week, but every once in a while, when I get something with a hint of mushiness in it, it's like Christmas.

Te amo means I love you in Spanish. And dang- isn't he cute?

Bradley is a very talented artist. In high school, he never stopped drawing. He specializes in stick ninjas on the backs of T-rexes, and sometimes, frogs. He'd draw on the back of seminary hand-outs, on the backs of all the history quizzes he finished early, on the margins of his British literature notes. He even finished his AP Physics exam an hour early and decided to entertain the national graders by writing a fake problem on an extra sheet of paper he didn't use about how high a frog would jump if it landed so many feet away from a t-rex it was scared of. And of course, he drew pictures for that too. 

This is latest and greatest:

Romania: Church and Podul Ros

Yesterday we went to church for the first time. The sister missionaries met us at a mall and walked us down some windy cobblestone roads. I saw my first gypsies. The building is on the corner of a block. The members were excited that the new "BYU girls" had arrived. We helped play piano- no one there could. The congregation was about 15 people. There's 3 sets of missionaries- two elder companionships, one sister companionship. The missionary work is very very slow here. The sisters say they have zero investigators, and haven't had any for a few months. Eastern Orthodox church is such a huge part of their culture. Eastern orthodox church seems even worse than being Mormon- it's 4 hours every Sunday- and no chairs. You either have to stand or kneel. And everyone does it- even the old people. But- because everyone's grandma and mom and dad stayed true to their faith throughout the communist regime and kept the hope burning, no one wants to desert that now. Joining the LDS church would be like disowning your heritage. So- the missionaries have it rough.

Anyway, when we got to church, an elder said, "Okay, we'll sit in the back and I'll translate for you." I said it was okay- he didn't have to, but he did anyway. In fact, they translated all 3 meetings for us. It was kind of nice, to know what they were saying. Kind of not- because it's hard to try and hear the Romanian words when someone is loudly speaking English to you. I think I'll listen to the translation another week or two, and then sit in the front row and just take it all in Romanian.

I was sitting there, thinking something was off. At first I thought, "Wow- a lot of men go here. Middle aged men. There's not as man women..." and then it hit me. No families. Zero families at church. All the men sat together, all the women did too. They're all married- but, not to each other. The only married couple that comes, the mom is baptized, the dad still comes to church, and the son is now 20ish, and the only young man/young single adult. Well- there's another girl that looks like she's 14, but is really 25. She was raised in an orphanage. She's very nice though. But- for the son- he seemed excited to see us BYU girls. It's sad- he either has to marry a girl outside the faith he has grown up in, or move out of Iasi to a bigger LDS community.

But- even though there's 20 of them, even though there are no families... the members are solid. Rock solid. The talks were sincere, and the spirit was so strong. Even in Romanian. The lessons were spot-on. The women in Relief Society talking about charity really knew what they were talking about and were very... loving. All the meetings were full of the spirit- no long rants, no off-the-wall stories or comments- just good, sincere discussion about these people's love for Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, and the gospel they live. Everything they said about the Holy Ghost and Jesus Christ was simple, but really came from their heart- because they live and die for this gospel. Converting over here kind of is like dying- you give up your family, your culture, your proud history of your grandma keeping the Eastern Orthodox faith through communism.
 I guess they kind of have to be that way. Unless they really believed it- they wouldn't be willing to give up so much for it- they come without their families, they deny the traditions of their fathers, they are very unpopular. And- they're rock solid, and they love the Lord. I have a lot to learn from them.

They will use us here, too. They want us to help plan Family Home Evening, and they asked me to prepare a talk for next week. I did already- on patience. It's lots of quotes from scriptures. :_

My new favorite study tool for Romanian language is comparisons from the LDS's printing of the Liahona. I can read it in Romanian, guess what it means, and then check my answers in English.

Podul ros:
The other girls' apartment. Very more traditional Romanian- with rugs and lace curtains.

We have washers, but no dryers. So, we hang our clothes on our balchony.

 View of City from Podul Ros apartment:

It's customary to wear slippers in the house- to keep away dust. ???

 They have scented toilet paper. This is peach. Yum. At least their toilet paper is white. Ours is bright pink.