Istanbul not Constantinople

Finding my hostel was a task. I grabbed a cab at the airport and told him where I needed to go; however, it could never be as easy as simply arriving at my destination. Once we got to the Sultanahmet borough of Istanbul all of the traffic stopped and we weren’t going anywhere, so my cab driver hopped a curve and asked a police officer what was going on. “The president is dining in the area so all the roads are shut down for security reasons” As I sit there listening to the conversation draw on I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that things are about to get more complicated. My gut was right as the cab driver pulled away from the officer and parked on the side of the road and began to explain how I am going to have to walk…and how it wasn’t so far from here…and it should only take 15 to 20 minutes…all you have to do is walk up this hill make a right, then a right at the fork, walk through the bizarre, continue on your left until you see the Blue Mosque and follow it along the Palace wall down the hill and it’s on the second street on your right halfway down the street….What?! In a daze I grabbed my backpack and got out standing on the corner as he smiled and pointed for me to start walking…I kept repeating the long list of directions in my head trying to remember them as I walked along the winding, narrow streets. I was soon extremely lost. An hour a half later and after asking many people for directions I finally found my hostel!!

When I knew I was finally getting close to finding my hostel. Besides being breathtaking the Blue Mosque has never been a more welcoming sight!

As soon as I got to my room I met Monica, an amazing woman who was on her way back home after serving two and a half years in the Peace Corps, we immediately hit it off and began getting ready for a night out, swapping makeup tips and hair ideas (She also has extremely curly hair) and she even let me borrow a skirt for the evening allowing me to mix up my wardrobe a little bit! We spent an evening out on the town and even saw the president drive by us when we were outside of our hostel! He really was having dinner in Sultanahmet!

Taksim! The party, shopping, and dining district of Istanbul.

Me and the girls having a drink on a doorstep converted into a couch. A great girls night out!

Of course I am in the party district and should be out partying like a normal 23 year old, but instead I am taking pictures of Mosques that I find tucked into corners of Istanbul in the middle of the night. 

The next day I devoted all of my afternoon to exploring the rich religious history of Istanbul by visiting as many mosques as I could. I remember standing between the Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque dressed in my flowy pants that reminded me of Jasmine from Aladdin, a shirt, a sweater, and a scarf over my head, which is really difficult to keep in place I discovered…I was melting in the afternoon heat when the speakers began to. I sat down in the middle of the plaza and listened to the prayers being sung. First the Aya Sophia’s speakers would ring out then the Blue Mosque would respond. The prayers and the respect I witnessed for Ramadan by tourists was beautiful; there was a religious tolerance present that I have never experienced before. As I sat there, in awe of the moment I was present in, I prayed to my God.

I was so excited to get in and see the inside of the Aya Sophia. I ended up sitting in there for over an hour listening to the prayers and soaking in as much of the Islamic tradition as I could. 

Running, Jumping, or Flying?

I have been in Viscri, Romania for two months now and I only have a month left, so many people have begun to ask me how I like it here, if I am excited to go home, and will I miss it…and my answers have changed drastically over the past few months to these rather typical questions.

I will not lie. My transition to Romania and Viscri wasn’t exactly smooth. I had a very rough time in my first few weeks here; however, as the time has passed I have found myself growing quite attached to the village I am calling my home for now.

I have met some of the hardest working women who have the biggest hearts in the world, and I cherish that I have encountered them.

I have had the opportunity to teach some of the village children English, and it is an incredible sight to see a dozen children running to greet you at the gate of the courtyard where you are holding class or walking out of your door and seeing them sitting there waiting for you smiling and in unison shouting “Hello!” and “Good morning!” The excitement and gratitude that they have to learn is astounding in comparison with what I have experienced in America.

I am so grateful to work with a fellow writer, Avrina, who will talk for hours with me about things ranging from theory and politics to dating and travelling, and dance til the sun rises with me when we are able to break free of the village life and find ourselves in a city. Seriously don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t come to Viscri.

I am going to miss all of these things.

I have been forced to grow personally, which is a huge blessing and I am going to miss being faced with some of the challenges that have encouraged that. For instance, I have become more in touch with nature, and certainly less jumpy. I have faced some of my biggest fears in the wilderness in Romania. My fear of bears and other deadly animals. My fear of heights while hiking and climbing in the Apuseni Mountains. My fear of dark, confined spaces while spelunking in a cave with a magnificent river running through it. My fear of bugs…me and the bees, flies, and spiders are becoming one…slowly. And my phobia of cats since apparently the cat that lives at the house I do has taken a liking to me and my room…

But most notably, I am at peace with the silence now. I am alright spending a day in thought reflecting on my past, present, and future…and I found that to be one of the most difficult things when I first moved here. Being comfortable being with just myself, spending large quantities of time really getting to know myself, forgiving myself, and learning how to love myself the way I am while still pushing myself to better every day.

The take away from all of this is that I have learned to love Viscri and the challenges it has presented me with, and I am thankful for it making me face some growing pains. I will miss Viscri and Romania, and I will certainly never forget my time here. However, I am excited to go back home and see my friends, family, and my beloved dog! I am ready to finish my last year of graduate school and finish a massive project I have been working on, yet I am terrified of the great nothing-ness that looms in the coming May, when I will have the entire world at my feet and I have to choose which way to begin walking…or maybe running, jumping, or flying?

So now onto the last month of my time in Romania, so time to make the most of this!

 

Wildflowers

Before I left for Romania my friend Patrick asked me if I liked flowers and what my favorite one was. A seemingly easy question to be asked; however, I found this question surprisingly difficult to answer, and in the end I think I ended up giving him a vague answer because I didn’t know. I knew I thought flowers were pretty, but the only ones I had encountered were in the florist section of the grocery store or wildflowers in fields through the windows of my truck. All of which seemed distant in some strange way. The flowers in the store were too perfect; they had been groomed to be cut and arranged into something given as a gift from a loved one or as a manner of saying “I’m sorry”, while the bountiful fields of wildflowers were fenced off in abandoned lands next to the highways criss-crossing their way across the state of Texas. 

For some reason this question and concept stuck with me….what was my favorite flower? Do I even like flowers? Why do I find them appealing? Is it the color, the delicacy, the scent…

As I arrived in Viscri, Romania I was overwhelmed by how green everything is. I couldn’t get enough of the rolling hills and forest surrounding this tiny village in the heart of Transylvania. Weeks passed and the green fields began to fill with millions of wildflowers and dozens of botanists and painters flocked to the area to study the rare flowers and paint them. And yet I still wasn’t so sure what all the fuss was about flowers, so one afternoon I went out into the fields to pick some. I picked tiny, delicate flowers that were white, light pink, and light purple. Their fragrance was sweet and small, but when I sat in a field surrounded by millions of their kind overlooking Visrci I became overwhelmed with the sweet scent floating in the wind and the swaying flowers soaking up the mild sun’s warmth. I did love flowers! As I grew more comfortable in my surrounding and nature I began running off the trails and over hills that enticed me, which allowed me to discover more and more fields of untouched flowers. Throughout the passing weeks I became more involved in events occurring in the Romanian countryside, such as the Transylvanian Bear Marathon and Ultra-marathon, and this allowed me to venture further outside of Viscri and see even more magnificent landscapes. One of the most memorable was a field outside of Mesendorf where the grass was as tall as me; it was buzzing with bees collecting pollen. I just sat there and took in the experience of complete sensory overload. It was exquisite. 

Now June has come to a close and the fields are being mowed one by one for hay, and with each one harvested the flowers are beginning to disappear, so I sit here in one of the untouched fields taking in the fading beauty. I am grateful that I got to witness a season of flowers in Romania watching them change from delicate, pastel flowers to hearty, robust flowers rich in deep colors and fragrance. This opportunity to come and work in Romania has allowed me to figure out how to answer the simply questions that were asked of me a few months ago. “Do you like flowers? Which one is your favorite?” I do indeed love flowers, and I particularly love wildflowers. The flowers that mix in no particular order blending colors that shouldn’t go together in perfect harmony. The flowers that the Gypsies harvest to dry and make tea from. The flowers that only I got to see and twirl around in circles while singing at the top of my lungs. The flowers at the tops of hills where I would run to just because I could. The flowers I did yoga among. The flowers I picked, and the ones I left because they were too beautiful to die. The flowers I would brush against my hands while running so I could bring their scent closer to my nose. The flowers that helped me learn that it is ok to be completely myself again; spreading all the colors of my personality out into the world. That it is alright that some people will not like me, but what is most important is if I love myself. So maybe I aim to be like  a wildflower…

Running with Bears

For the past thirteen years I have had a love-hate relationship with running. I love the satisfaction that it brings me when I accomplish milestones (quite literally sometimes) and when I feel completely worn out, both physically and mentally. I love that it is time for me to think, not think, or a perfect combination of the two. I hate the pain in the moments where my muscles feel like they are about to burst through my skin, but then again I enjoy pushing myself to that point. I hate getting lost frequently when trying a new route, but sometimes getting lost is just what I need to meet interesting people or find secret places. I hate getting covered in dirt and mud, but I love taking a good shower afterwards. I hate the injuries, but love the renewed passion I have for running when I am healed. The list of things that I love and hate about the sport that has become such a prominent part of my goes on and on.

Since I have arrived in Viscri, Romania I have spent a good portion of my time outdoors, which is natural when you are living in an area that is as close as I have come to unspoiled nature. I am lucky to be minutes away from the forest which is filled with kilometers of mountain biking trails that I use for my running pleasure. There are also the dirt roads that run through the rolling hills if I am in the mood for a more relaxed run. It really is the perfect place for a former cross country runner to spend her time training. Many days I don’t get a chance to run until around noon, so I opt for the shade of the forest. Running in the forest comes with many challenges: the steep inclines and declines, sharp twists and turns in the trail, debris on the trail after afternoon thunderstorms, and wildlife. The first three obstacles I am very accustom to navigating; however, the last one I am not. I was actually terrified at the idea of running in the forest by myself when I heard that brown bears and wolves live within them and that the shepherd dogs are almost as bad as either of the previously mentioned animals that might come across my path. I had heard that the main thing you should avoid doing was startling a big predator and you do this by announcing yourself before they or you see one another…how do I do that?! Well I started listening to my music out loud as I run, and when I get to darker regions of the forest where my footfall is muffled by the soft earth I even begin to sing along with the music. Belting out a little Brandi Carlile’s “Raise Hell” or humming along to John Anderson’s “Seminole Wind”; I am bringing a little bit of the South to Eastern Europe.

This technique had been working really well at preventing any bear sighting for me until last Friday, June 19^th when even Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” failed me. I know how ironic the song is, but how can you forget which song is playing when you see a bear run right in front of you? I stopped immediately as the brown fluff ball bounded past me on the trail and headed further into the forest, and I focused on its rather voluptuous rear end which bounced up and down as it ran away. I was in shock. I had seen a bear. I quickly turned around and sprinted as fast as I could in the other direction, desperately wanting to evacuate that section of the forest. I could feel my heart beating against my ribs and felt every fiber of muscle in my calves as I ran past a group of older hikers who were taking a break looking at the plants. “Did you see a bear?” One of the men asked me as I ran past. I just nodded in response and kept going, while they turned in excitement in the direction I had just come from.  

Ironically, I had gone bear watching the evening before and didn’t encounter any bears…

View of Viscri's Fortified Church from the hills surrounding it. Another selfie taken while running of course!

The canopy of the forest is so dense and green that it is actually quite dark the further you get in. 

Where I went bear watching. No bears were encountered that time...but it was beautiful to be there!

"My House in Budapest"

“My house in Budapest.

My, my hidden treasure chest.

Golden grand piano.

My beautiful Castillo.”

The song echoed on repeat in the playlist in my mind as I sat in the cab in the middle of the night whipping through the outskirts of Budapest heading into the center of the city. To ### József Krt where a friend, Manuel, who I met while travelling in Panama lived and had offered up his apartment to me during my stay. I was in a strange city, suffering from extreme exhaustion and jet-lag, and heading to a strange apartment in the middle of the night with a phone that couldn’t contact my friend if I got lost. What could go wrong? So many things crossed my mind that I had worked myself into a tight knot of tension by the time the cab stopped and I looked out onto a dimly lit street hoping to see the number on one of the many identical buildings. In the shadows I see Manuel standing there staring at the cab. Thank goodness! I am where I need to be, which is perfect because all I want to do is go to sleep.

The next day I had every intention of getting up early and getting my train ticket to Brasov, Romania so I could spend the rest of the day exploring the city. My plan was shot to hell when I slept in past noon…and subsequently got extremely lost trying to find the train station. What should have been a ten to fifteen minute walk turned into a three hour stroll through the Jewish district of Budapest where I saw numerous signs of the persecution that they experienced. It was unsettling, but it was a chance to explore a section of the city in which I hadn’t intended on visiting. After eventually finding Keleti Train Station I then had to figure out where to buy my ticket…I wandered around aimlessly pulling out my Eastern European phrasebook hoping to find guidance. I didn’t. The next step was to try to find someone…anyone who spoke English; I found someone who could understand me I think because she pointed to where I needed to go. All in all I got my ticket (or at least I hoped I did) and rewarded myself with a cappuccino and some delicious pastry filled with custard!!

At this point it was nearly five o’clock and I had agreed to meet Manuel at his apartment when he got off work, so I headed there and managed to find my way back in 15 minutes, how long it should have taken on the way there. I didn’t want to risk getting extremely lost again so I stayed put, and waited for Manuel because I figured he would serve as a good tour guide for the rest of my time in Budapest. I was right!

Lets hope this gets me to where I am supposed to be going...

 

Keleti Train Station 

I saw all the sights. The iconic Hungarian Parliament Building, Buda Castle, Hero’s Square, Vajdahunyad Castle, Széchenyi Thermal Bath, St. Stephens Basilica, walked across the chain bridge, Margit-sziget Island, and I got acquainted with the bar and club scene! All of which was packed into two days! 

The Hungarian Parliamentary Building

The back of the Hungarian Parliamentary building.

Buda Castle from Chain Bridge! 

Hero's Square!

Vajdahunyad Castle

Széchenyi Thermal Bath

The Truth Behind “You’re so lucky!”

This phrase has been repeated to me hundreds of times throughout the past three weeks, and I agree. I am very lucky to have the opportunity to live and work in Romania this summer! However, after being away from the U.S. for three weeks now the struggle is still very real and the simplest tasks are monumental and exhausting.

Laundry…I have to plan to wash my clothes days in advance and hope for good weather so that maybe they will dry by the time I need them. Not to mention figuring out which bottles contain bleach, detergent, and fabric softener in a room without internet. Bring along the Romanian/English dictionary!

The store…or getting anywhere outside of the village. This is a real doozy. There is no store in the town I live in or even the next, which means if you need something once again plan in advance.

Step 1: Find out who is driving into town in the near future.

Step 2: Contact said person and try to communicate with them or find someone who can.

Step 3: See if they can pick up something for you or better yet if they have room for you to come along! (Last time I was squished in the back with a bicycle and groceries to get back to Viscri, while two guys I didn’t know sat in the front, but they had been vouched for by someone I knew so that counts for not getting in a car with strangers right?)

Step 4: Figure out what you are trying to buy. (Once again bring along your dictionary, currency converter, and patience. You can do this!)

Step 5: Hope you are getting the right thing because you only have one shot!

Communicating…I moved here without knowing a single word of Romanian, which is definitely my own fault, and is a constant source of frustration for me as many people here do not speak very much English, if any at all. In the village of less than 200 people there are multiple languages spoken by its residents, and only a handful actually speak English. There is Romanian, Romani (what the gypsies speak), and the Transylvanian Saxon families speak something similar to German. Pretty neat right? Except that I speak none of these languages…but I am working diligently on figuring out Romanian! If only I could stop pronouncing the words as if I was speaking Spanish…too many foreign languages at one time.

Conversation…This is the main problem plaguing me. I constantly feel like a burden trying to get my point across because it takes so long, and normally I leave the interaction confused or frustrated. Also, I have no one to talk to. No one to talk to about anything going on around me or what I am thinking, so I am definitely not hitting my 20, 000 words a day, I feel lucky if I hit even 1000. I am starving from lack of conversation! And when I get the opportunity to talk to people from back home, which is rare due to the enormous time difference, I word vomit all over them about anything and everything just enjoying the sensation of using my vocal chords. Not the best way to keep friends, that’s for sure. So to all I have done this to, I am profoundly sorry; I really am trying to be less dependent on y’all, but thank you to everyone who has taken anytime to talk to me (or listen), I do really appreciate it!

At the end of the day, I am still very grateful to be here and have this opportunity to learn so much about a different way of life and myself simultaneously. I guess I am just experiencing some growing pains. 

On My Way To Transylvania Romania

Quick update on something big happening in only 10 days! This summer I will be moving to Romania! I will be living and working in the small town of Viscri, Romania, in the heart of Transylvania Romania (maybe I’ll meet Dracula!), the site of a fortified wall and church which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It will be like stepping back in time! I will be living there for three months doing a myriad of activities from writing, touring the town and discovering everything it has to offer, and teaching English to the children of the family that has graciously allowed me to stay in their guest house. I am extremely excited to experience a culture so far removed from mine and learn from the people I have yet to meet! Although accompanying all that excitement is a lot of nerves about overcoming the language barrier, discovering food that I like, and missing my family, my precious dog Tuxedo, and my friends. In the end this is my dream: to travel, work, and write! And if your dreams do not scare you then they are not big enough. In closing I will leave you with a quote I discovered while reading that has become almost a personal mantra of mine in the past year.

“Fear begets fear. Power begets power. I willed myself to beget power. And it wasn’t long before I actually wasn’t afraid.” –Cheryl Strayed, Wild