One week

Brasov from the hill near my house

Its been a week...in some ways I feel like I just got here, and in other ways I feel like I have been here forever. In the last few days, I have learned and done so much, that if nothing else happened for the rest of my time here, then I would still have stories to tell for a very long time.

Tuesday I went out to meet the kids at the group home. They were so cute, and so sweet. One little boy named Lorenzo, about 8, picked me flowers the very first day he met me and immediately was willing to hold my hand when we went on a walk. There is a three year old named Mitza who follows me everywhere and is my little assistant. Apparently understanding toddler is a universal language, because its all about interpreting strange noises and pointing anyways. I am pretty sure that out of all the Romanians I have met so far, I understand Mitza the best. Then there is Larrissa. She arrived the day before I did, and is so shy. I have only heard her say a couple words, but when she does talk it is precious. Mostly she just wants to wear my sunglasses and smile. As much fun as these kids are though, it is heartbreaking to hear some of the stories told, and know that many of the kids have similar stories to tell. For example, little Mitza was put into the hospital as a baby, and her mother would only come and visit her once every couple months or so. (In Romania the Hospitals also serve as a mass nursery for people who either don't want their children or ca't take care of them.) Eventually it was discovered that when the mother would come visit, she was dying Mitza's hair with cleaning bleach, because she wanted a blonde baby.

Which leads me into my next project. The racism between the gypsy community and the rest of the Romanians is huge. Most of the kids in the group homes and orphanages in the country are from that community, and it is hard for the other Romanians to see past their gypsy-ness. In another small village about 20 min outside of Brasov myself and another girl are running a three week summer camp for the low income children in the village. The goal is to help these kids learn how to interact with people outside of their village, and more importantly to learn how to interact with each other. Children have the luxury of not knowing they aren't supposed to be friends with someone different then them, so the goal is to expose the children to tolerance, so as they get older they are willing to be more tolerant of the gypsies and hopefully bridge the gap between the two. When communism fell, and with the entrance into the EU, many of the churches started educating and tutoring the gypsy children, which gave them a drive to do better. Now there are many of the gypsies my age who are trying to get honest work in the towns, or go to university and get an education, but are not able to do so simply because of the intolerance of their people. Hopefully this will start to lessen as they are forced to be more integrated, but I am learning that the Europeans hold grudges much longer then we in America are used to. Perhaps it is because we have a shorter history, so we forgive like a child. Quickly and completely.  In perspective, of course. I'm talking the difference between 20-30 years and hundreds of years.

In the evenings I started working with the Projects Abroad office to put on a charity showcase for the community. This will be the third year they have done it, and every year they are able to raise quite a bit of money to donate to a charity. This year we are donating to the group home that I mentioned earlier, so they can buy cleaning supplies and other necessities for the kids. Myself and a third volunteer are working with Romanian university students as our performers, and they, local musicians, and some brave PA volunteers will put on a collection of English and Romanian acts.

The final thing I do is a couple times a week I go to another day center run by the state, in yet another village outside of the city, and teach the kids English through drama and games.

That is basically my week. Its long, hot, and tiring days, but its full of new adventures. Everyday the kids are so excited and enthusiastic to have people there to work with them, and their eagerness to play and get involved is priceless.

First Impressions

I'm finally here!! Through visa complications, delays, more delays, funding delays, and project rescheduling due to said delays, I am finally in Romania. There were moments where I had serious doubts it would happen, but because of massive amounts of patience with everyone involved, I made it.  Tomorrow I meet some of the kids for the first time. They range in ages 7-14, and I am anticipating they are going to be a blast. 

The little I have seen of Romania so far has been a very interesting mix of the old and the new. Air conditioning and open doors are seen as evil by many Romanians, because of the draft monster, which they blame any form of illness on. Including my current cold. However all buses; and many houses and offices have these magic machines that blow out cold air, even if they don't use them. It has been interesting meeting people my age who talk about the fall of communism, and the almost instant increase in available goods, that happened when they were 6 or 7. To have such clear memories of a distinct regime change has been fascinating to listen to. 

 The best way that I can describe Romania, on first impression, is well used. Everything is used until it can not function anymore. In America, we are the ultimate consumers and will exchange things well before it needs to be replaced, but here, you run every item you own into the ground. It can be masked as decay, but really the Romanians are simply good stewards of their resources. It makes sense why there would still be horse and buggies, pitch forks for farming, and washing done in the streams. Why would they buy a car when they have a perfectly good horse? Why get a tractor when they still have a good back and a pitchfork? What is the point of a washing machine? The stream is outside and it doesn't cost anything. We think the economy runs on money, but really, it runs on time. If we had more time to walk to the store or into town, cook dinner at home, wash our clothes in a stream, or whatever task we have deemed to slow for our daily lives, think about how many of our "magic machines" in America would be obsolete.