Moldavia

Okay, okay, okay; so it's been a few weeks since I visited the painted monasteries in Moldavia. Since then, I spent an evening in Munich (where we ate roasted duck, potato dumplings, red cabbage, and homebrewed beer; thanks Wallis!); almost missed my plane home due to an ironically late German train; and celebrated Thanksgiving with most of my family and all of my kitty. Currently, I'm trying to get my life back into some state of "normal" and trying to remember the last three months as more than a dream. The week before I left Romania, my cousin, Katharine, came to visit. She arrived on Monday, and Tuesday morning, we were on our road trip to northeastern Romania. I had planned for us to take the train and walk to see a few of the churches, but when I was casually mentioning this, three coworkers adamantly told me not to take the train if I wanted to have a good time. So, upon a recommendation, we hired a driver, Attila. The drive out took us through the Carpathians' winding roads that Attila treated with little thought to brakes and slow speeds, but we got to Moldavia about three hours before we were anticipating, which was impressive. And so were the monasteries. They are all Eastern Orthodox from the 15^th to 16^th centuries, and the forms are similar: central church surrounded by stone walls along which were ancillary buildings like dormitories and small chapels. Every square inch of the churches were painted, both inside and outside.

I could spend forever talking about the churches, but I don't feel like it. The week I was home, I had breakfast with some friends, and Moe asked me what was the most memorable experience of my trip. That's hard to pinpoint, but I had to say it was the day I bought a husband for 2Lei (the Romanian currency, approximately equivalent to 75 cents. Attila had driven back to Cluj through amazing scenery, and at one point, we had to take a pee break at a petrol station. As Katharine and I were leaving the disgusting facilities, I noticed Attila in the car, laughing and a Romania guy with a window squeegee approaching us, saying, "Doi lei." Figuring we had to pay for the use of the hole in the floor and wet toilet paper, I protested slightly, but the squeegee wielding attendant kissed my and Katharine's feet. I tipped him. As we were pulling away, I asked Attila what was so funny. Here is the conversation as I remember it:

Me: What's so funny?
Attila: He thinks you are my wives (yes, plural).
Me: *Chuckle, chuckle.*
Attila: And he said that since I have two wives, I should share and give him one.
Me: *Chuckle, chuckle.*
Attila: Then I asked which one, and he said, ehhh, it doesn't matter. Either one.
Me: *Chuckle, chuckle.*
Attila: Then I asked if it was forever, and he said, no, an hour would do.
Me: *GASP! Chuckle, chuckle.*
Attila: Then I asked if he would pay me, and he said, no, wait, she'll pay me.
Me: *Busting a gut.* AND I DID! *Guffaw all the way home.*