Take Me to Istanbul!!

Istanbul has been on the top of my list of places to visit for years. A city where continents merge and mingle in both location and culture, and this has always drawn me to it. It has everything I love in a city…it has religion, architecture, a dynamic history, amazing food, bright colors, and amazing people. When I decided to take this job in Viscri, Romania I knew that if I was this close to Istanbul I had to go see the city I had dreamed of, so as soon as I got here I began researching flights, places to stay, and the perfect itinerary. All of which didn’t exactly go to plan.

I had planned to head to Bucharest the day prior to my flight to give myself plenty of time so I wouldn’t be rushed getting to the airport, so customary to Transylvanian travelling traditions I hitched a ride from a tourist group that had visited the Viscri that day. I climbed on the bus and took a seat in the back trying to make myself non-intrusive on this group’s reunion. (A class of MBA students who regularly get together and travel to the diverse homelands of their former classmates) I had no idea what I was getting myself into! The quiet bus soon turned into a party bus filled with uncaged nine to fivers blasting their music, singing out of tune, and the ginger mixing Campari and orange juice or Jack and Coke for everyone on board. I was discovered and became the novelty, new member of the group….they ended up taking my phone so they could use the “Americans” music to mix it up. So about thirty minutes into this trip I had a drink in hand and I hear the Circle of Life come on over the speakers…I was going to need another drink to survive this five hour ride with them.

By the time we arrived in Bucharest I had been invited to a party they were having with more people they knew. And by invite…I mean they insisted I go hangout with them before they would tell me where I was in the sprawling metropolis of Bucharest…what was I to do except to join them for a wine tasting? Once I was a few glasses of wine in, had eaten an outrageous amount of the “finger” food that was provided, and was comfortably chatting with a group of guys, a birthday cake was presented to the guy who I had talked with the majority of the night. I was at a stranger’s birthday party! In Bucharest…How do these things even happen to me? Finally, in the middle of the night I was able to tear myself away, grab a cab, and began attempting to find my hostel.

I arrived at the hostel around 3 AM and ended up having a beer with the manager on patio while he chain smoked and discussed literature with me. Sometimes drunken conversation in the middle of the night are the absolute best. I have no idea what the guy’s name was, but I do remember that his hair was longer than mine and he had a total hippy vibe that perfectly fit the environment.

The next morning I got up early despite the lack of sleep and ample amounts of alcohol still in my system because I wanted to take the morning to walk around the city of Bucharest before my flight that afternoon. So I elected to do the walking tour mention by the hostel, and luckily I found a German boy in the kitchen who had the same plan. We walked and talked throughout the walking tour as I was struggling through a hangover and starving due to a lack of breakfast. Before I know it, it is time to head to the airport for my flight to Istanbul!! A long, sweaty bus ride later and I am at the airport eagerly awaiting my flight.

We land in Istanbul, Turkey and I rush off the plane to get on the bus that will take me to customs. I am so excited to be there I can barely contain myself! As our bus is making its way around parked planes it suddenly jolts to a violent stop and speedily reverses as a jet whizzes past us, missing us by mere inches! I haven’t even legal entered the country and I already had a brush with death…That’s when I knew this would be a once in a lifetime trip!

Goodbye 23

Every year I have a ritual that on my birthday and my friend’s birthdays I ask the questions: what was the best part of this past year, and what do you hope to accomplish in the next year. For me twenty three was a difficult year. It was filled with lots of ups and downs. I faced heartbreak too many times, had dear friend’s lives cut short, uprooted my life and moved to the middle of nowhere…twice! Pushed myself to the intellectual, physical, and emotional breaking points by going back to school to pursue my Master’s, running in and completing the Houston Marathon, and by moving to two new places where I didn’t know a single person…or even the language in my most recent move. Despite all the challenges that twenty-three has brought on I am grateful for each and every one, yet I do hope I don’t have to go through some of them again. I tried to learn my lesson from them the first time (that they happened this year…) With a year filled with hardships it has also been filled amazing blessings. I have made some amazing new friends through all the moving and travelling that I have done. I have wonderful roommates who both have amazing dogs, I have some of the best fellow graduate students in my program who share in the struggles and triumphs of academia, and I have met people in all corners of the world while travelling the globe who inspire and encourage me.

The best part of my year is very difficult to decide on because it has been filled with insurmountable moments of joy and accomplishment. However, the best part of this year had to be the opportunities I took to travel and the airport arrivals. The moment when I landed in Panama City and was greeted with a huge hug by my best friend. The moment when I stood in customs in Mexico City in the middle of the night hoping someone was waiting outside to pick me up, and the relief of seeing that UT sweatshirt. The moment when I rode with the window down in a taxi feeling the sea breeze in Puerto Vallarta. The moment I anxiously got off a plane in Mexico and took a chance. The moment I decided to take on Paris for a day. The moment I met my friend from Panama in Budapest and made the world feel small for the first time. This year I fell in love with airport arrival gates and the joy that they have brought me.

This next year I will accomplish many of my goals that I have been working towards for some time. I will graduate with my Master’s in English. I will have finished my memoir. I will move…again…to who knows where this time, all I know is there will be a beach nearby! I will travel somewhere…anywhere I can and as often as I can. But what I hope to accomplish isn’t a bucket list item or something I can put on my resume; it is bigger than that to me. It is a perspective change. It is to love myself and send as much love into the world as I can. To think of others first more often. To give and expect nothing in return. To laugh until I cry more. To give up control and just trust in life’s direction. To worry less. To be open and honest. To forgive. And the concluding item…to continue to grow.

Goodbye 23. 

At the summit of Vulcan Baru in Panama

Mexico City shenanigans with the the bestie!

Most beautiful beach I have ever visited. Yalapa, Mexico

Don'y be mad mom...

Tequila tasting in Tequila, Mexico

Castles in Budapest

Galata Tower in Istanbul with new friends.

Hello 24!

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…

Changing Playlist

I press shuffle and an eclectic mix of melodies and rhythms reverberate throughout the air. From Linkin Park to Eisley to Ingrid Michaelson to REM.

I have always listened to music constantly. I am one of those girls who walks around with her headphones in, tuning out the world, focusing on the lyrics trying to find meaning and truth behind their words. However, when I moved to Romania I removed the headphones and started letting the music resonate in the air and world around me. I allowed it to become a part of the nature I am surrounded in.

There are numerous reasons as to why I started listening to my music out loud. The primary one being that I spend a significant time running in the forest and I do not want to startle the bigger animals aka brown bears by running up on them, so I play my music loud and sometimes even sing along to let them know I am coming. After doing this for a few times I started noticing that I heard the music differently than before; it became a way for me to hear English out loud and to interact with my native language by singing. Surprisingly, this little act of singing in the forest while running or hiking has brought me so much joy, a sense of complete freedom I hadn’t experienced before because I knew that the forest was mine in that moment. It made me feel tiny and huge all at once.

The main change is the meaning behind my favorite songs. I have gained a whole new playlist without changing a single song by finding new meaning in the words I thought I knew so well. Previously the majority of songs I listened to took on a meaning surrounding romantic love in some sense, but now I’ve noticed a deeper layer of meaning in these same songs. Many songs are a commentary on the loneliness that humans experience on a daily basis no matter what the situation it. We can be surrounded by family and friends or completely alone in the middle of a forest, and we will still long for connection and understanding and that is what makes music so powerful. It is a way for us to realize we are not alone in our desire for connection and never will be. No matter how strong we are; we are still fragile, and that is where the beauty in life lies.

**My current anthem for the past year is The National’s England. I suggest that you give it a listen if you haven’t already heard it; it is fantastic and so are its lyrics.

Someone send a runner

Through the feeling that I’m under

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

Through the feeling that I’m under

For the feeling that I lost today

Someone send a runner

For the feeling that I lost today

You must be somewhere in London

You must be loving your life in the rain

You must be somewhere in London

Walking Abbey Lane

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make corrections

Famous angel never come through England

England gets the ones you never need

I’m in a Los Angeles cathedral

Minor singing airheads sing for me

Put an ocean and a river

Between everybody else

Between everything, yourself, and home

Put and ocean and a river

Between everything, yourself, and home

You must be somewhere in London

You must be loving your life in the rain

You must be somewhere in London

Walking Abbey Lane

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make

I don’t even think to make corrections

Famous angel never come through England

England gets the ones you never need

I’m in a Los Angeles cathedral

Minor singing airheads sing for me

Afraid of the house, stay the night with the sinners

Afraid of the house, stay the night with the sinners

Afraid of the house, ‘cause they’re desperate to entertain’

"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. 

I Suppose Paris is Pretty Magical...

I am now living in Viscri, Romania for the next 3 months. I won’t say the transition has been easy; even just getting here was quite an adventure. My flights started from Houston to Paris on Wednesday afternoon, so by Thursday morning I was in Paris with a 10 hour layover, so I decided I should go out and explore the city!

This is a lot easier said than done, since I don’t speak a word of French and I needed to find a place to hold my carry on luggage. After an hour of being completely confused about where I needed to go I finally found the place that will watch your luggage for you in the train station. Then the next issue to address was how do I purchase a ticket into Paris and which one is right? All the lines were extremely long, so I hopped into the shortest one I saw and hoped for the best. 30 minutes later and a tiny ticket in hand I searched for the proper train to take me into the city center of Paris. Once again I decided to just wing it and got on a train and took a seat next to the window…a few minutes later an older couple sat next to me. They spoke English!! They sounded familiar too. They began asking me in what sounded like strained French something about directions I assume, and when I answered in English we all had relief wash over our faces. I found out they were from Sugarland, Texas, a mere 20 minutes away from where my parents live and they were on their 33^rd anniversary trip through France. Surprised that I had just jumped on a random train they helped me understand where it was that I needed to be going and how I would get there (luckily I had picked the right train because it had already left at that point!)

An hour later I found myself standing on a platform. Alone. In Paris. I decided to follow a lady who looked like she knew where she was going, she was wearing 6 inch stilettos so I thought one wouldn’t wear such uncomfortable shoes if they didn’t know where they were…My assumption worked as I found myself in the middle of beautiful Paris. I have never been enthralled with the mystique of Paris, I have never even wanted to visit because there have always been other places more important for me to see; however, as soon as I saw the streets and the building I understood. I understood why so many of my favorite authors turned to Paris for inspiration and chose it as their desired location to write. There is something magical about it. With the language, the wine, the flowers, rows upon rows of old books for sale next to the Seine, the boats, and the Parisians on small streets off the beaten path; I was inspired like so many before me to write. After getting lost for a while in my search for Notre Dame, I finally found it and decided to make my way to the Eiffel Tower by walking along the river. I stopped and had a delicious brunch and filled my journal, page after page while sipping on red wine and eating an omelet. I cherished this moment of solitude as I was completely alone in foreign city, a foreign country, and yet I was completely content with only myself. It was one of those moments where I just stop and let everything around me wash over me so I can absorb every sensation and emotion.  

Along the way towards the Eiffel Tower, I decided to walk among the residential streets and take a break from the occasional strong whiffs of urine that accompanied the area surrounding the scenic river. This is the second time I got lost while wandering the streets of Paris, and I can say it was the most pleasant experience, especially for being lost. I walked along winding streets occasionally catching glimpse of the Eiffel Tower to guide my progress, then all of a sudden I wandered into a park that provided a picturesque view of the laced, wrought iron structure. As I walked closer and saw firsthand how large it was, I decided I had to go to the top. While I was waiting in line the guy behind me asked if I was alone…well yes. He questioned me further, continually commenting on how ironic it was that we were both alone and he thought it would be a good idea for us to go up together, for picture purposes of course. So up we went, swapping cameras constantly taking pictures for one another, and eventually together. As we neared the top a rainstorm rolled in drenching me (good thing I had decided to wear a white t-shirt), but despite the cold rain and the slightly creepy Lebanese guy continually hitting on me the view of Paris and the river was breathtaking.

By the time I got down from the tower I knew I needed to rush back to catch a train and subsequently catch my flight to Budapest in four hours. I awkwardly said goodbye to Tarek declining his invitation to dinner and briskly began attempting to walk back towards Notre Dame. (I didn’t realize how much walking I would be doing because I stupidly decided to wear cute and unsupportive sandals…my feet were killing me!) Along the way I stopped and had dinner at a cute restaurant, and I discovered that the entrance to the train station I had emerged from earlier that morning was right next to Notre Dame, if only I had turned around and looked!  

Random building I found while searching for Notre Dame...little did I know I had just barely missed it. The selfie game at it's weakest. 

Ohh look I found you!! Now how do I get to you?

Notice the sensible footwear...

It was so worth getting soaked. 

Look at all the little ants down there! Oh wait those are people...
Commence mini panic attack at the height at the lowest level. 

My picture partner Tarek...can't say I will miss you.