A Halloween in Transylvania

Imagine spending six days in Transylvania, a land of legend, and a culture a hundred years behind the Europe we think of as modern. Twenty American teachers packed onto a bus and drove off to Romania, to explore the land and the people who live there, led by guides, of course. Here are some of the highlights.

Best Quote:

"We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. (Or America!) Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things" (21).

Bram Stoker's 1897 Dracula, which is on my shelf, but I have yet to read.

Best Sight (Tangible):

The medieval city of Segesvar (Sighisoara). Better known as Dracula's birthplace, the city is an old-school Saxon settlement, with an amazingly well-preserved old town on a hill, surrounded by intact city walls, a rarity in Europe.

Best Sight (Less-Tangible):

An early morning solo hike (despite the bears...) up the western hillside just past the village of Zetelka (Odorheiu Seciuese), watching the sunrise over the eastern hills.

Best Sight (Unexpected Surprise):

Waking up the third morning, opening the door and seeing the sheer white cliffs stand tall above our little mining village of Torocko (Rimetea). Breathtaking!

Best Role Model:

I don't know the man's name, but a European man-of-note stayed in the same guest house as the single boys (as we were always lumped) on the second night. He was born in Germany of Dutch and Scandinavian parents. Calls his current home Venice, but studied in New York. He works as a writer, only when he's not doing something else. I'm sure he speaks more languages than I know words in Hungarian. Despite German and Italian passports, he considers himself of the "European" nationality. His current project, the reason he was in Romania? A four-year long assignment to scout out Romania, as a visitor, to help an EU minister best decide when Romania should be fully admitted into the European Union.

Best Heartbreaker:

Little Bogi. I'm in love with a seven-year-old. Our third morning in Romania, I made a friend. Bogi was the little daughter attached to the guest house where some of the girls were staying, and she came out to play as we loaded the bus. Health concerns kept us from leaving right away, so we went for a stroll. Bogi came along. Half way through, I could no longer resist. I taught her the English word "piggy-back-ride" and galloped away with her on my back. For an hour she taught me Hungarian words, and I taught her the English. Just before our bus pulled away, I gave her a quarter and a penny.

Best Emergency Guideline:

Guideline #1 in a Romanian hotel's emergency procedures in event of an earthquake? "DO NOT SHOW THE FEAR!"

Best Dance Party:

When you invite a gypsy band onto your bus, after being fed palinka and wine for an entire evening, can the result be anything but spectacular?

Best Sing Along:

And when a hotel allows American twenty-somethings to commandeer their lobby, turn on the disco lights and seize control of the winamp playlist, can the results be anything other than spectacular?

Best Eyes:

I dared make eye contact with one gypsy beggar, a little girl, in Dracula's hometown. The grey of her eyes was among the most amazing colors I've ever seen on this planet.

Best Bird-Flue Scare:

My roommates, Chad and Janos, were down for the count with flu-like symptoms two of the six days on our trip. Janos was even rushed to the hospital at one point. (Guidebook recommends avoiding Romanian hospitals...apparently they don't meet "Western Standards.")

Best "Oh" Moment:

Kat was reading a book as our bus climbed a hill outside of Kolozsvar (Cluj). She looked up at one point, took one glance at the rows of white apartments in the city below us and said aloud with disdain, "Oh, communist..."

Best Souvenirs:

Anything that wasn't tacky, mass-produced for the plethora of tourist-trap souvenir stands in Transylvania. You'd think that a million miles from anywhere you'd be able to escape feeling like you were in a Wisconsin Dells indian shop, but apparently it's impossible. Among the better items there, though, was a purse made out of mushroom skin.

By far the best souvenir, though, were the twin orthodox icons Mariah and I bought in Marosvasarhely (Tirgu Mures). The iconography of the religion is spectacular, moving even if not convincing. Hers is of Saint Stephen. Mine is of Mary and Baby Jesus, with a radiant gilded background. I like to look at it.

Best Recommendations For Your Future Trip to Transylvania:

Go with someone who knows what's going on.

Best "Lei" Joke:

The Romanian currency is the Lei. It's a rather confusing currency, as Romania is in the midst of a massive revaluation, but both sets are rather cool. Colorful, waxy in feeling, complete with window. Just like arriving in Hawaii and being lei'd, this creates the obvious opportunities for "lei" jokes. Unlike Hawaii, however, which has beaches, in Romania the jokes don't get old. It would be impossible to select a single best joke or saying, here are some winners though:

"So wait...you can get three lei for a dollar?"

"I'm not even sure what a lei is worth...I just hold out my hands and let them take what they want."

"I think I will always keep a lei in my pocket, just for emergencies...When I really need a lei."

"One new lei is as good as ten-thousand old lei."

Best Conversation Partners:

Two seventy-year old men in a smoky pub is Szentmiklos, our very first night in Transylvania. One was able to count to ten in German, the rest of our conversation was conducted completely in Hungarian and hand gestures. They were shriveled and old, but were willing to be my friends, so I bought them a beer. They were brothers. Their father fought for Hitler's SS, I believe they were trying to tell me, at least. And I believe they were bragging.

Best Mountainry:

Cheile Bicazului (Bicaz Pass and Gorge National Park). Wow.