Romania, back home again

by Irina Popescu
(Albany, CA, USA)

I am in the plane right now, traveling over Romania, and I am sad to leave it again, as usual. We have eaten the best tomatoes here, some of the best cheese, the best fruits, laughed some of our best laughs, played some of our best games, and now, when it comes to a close it reminds me of just how close to home I feel here, how even the ground feels different, perhaps better, perhaps worse.

It smells different here, the air feels different, I cannot help but miss it and hope to return soon. We cannot thank everyone for their kindness, both family and friends, we cannot even thank the country for sheltering us from harm and opening up its paths for our wandering feet. I leave amazed by the beauty we have encountered here, both in the people and the landscape. I leave amazed that everything tastes better here, that everyone is indeed a pastry chef and from the little they have they will open up their homes and give you everything they can offer. I am amazed by how the clouds look here, how they fling themselves up in that sky and create images of accordions for the people below to dance to. I leave amazed by how much people struggle here yet still maintain a smile on their faces, amazed. I leave amazed by seeing just how much has changed and how much has stayed the same.

Amazed that all people know of Romania are horror stories of orphanages and poverty, a gymnast, and a few soccer players, forgetting the mountains, the lakes, the fertile earth, the fields of sunflowers lining up, the cobblestoned sidewalks, the best tomatoes in the world, how neighbors come with honey in exchange for apricots, how the milk still comes directly from the cow, how the music forces you to feel again, how the cities are not Western but Eastern, not worse just different.