Day 7: Magical Maramures
I was a little sad to leave Sighisoara because there were so many castles and castle ruins scattered around that I didn't get to visit--there's not a lot of information about any castles other than the main attractions on the internet, so I only found out about all of the other ones from a hotel map as we left. However, with a six-hour drive ahead of us to Breb, we didn't have time for any more Transylvania exploring.
The drive was a little nerve-wracking--not because of traffic, though there were still those death-wish drivers zipping around, but because there was often no cell signal and the roads can get rough. We drove straight through, slowing down once for a pig on the side of the road, and saw some beautiful countryside along the way--are all the lakes like mirrors here? I've only seen a few, but it certainly feels like it.
Almost immediately upon crossing into Maramures County, it feels like a different world--the foliage is changing this far north, just now turning dusky yellow and soft orange, and there are haystacks everywhere (cut with scythes and piled by hand).
Breb, our destination, is down a rutted gravel path where chickens dart and you can hear the sounds of wood being chopped and dogs barking; the place where we're staying is the Village Hotel. It's run by an Englishwoman and has five houses. Ours is Casa Picata and used to be a barn, but we have our own small dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and tiny bedroom. It's decorated with embroidery and art from Maramures, and painted brightly in almost every room.
The owner told us that though some things have changed--for instance, houses now have satellite dishes and electricity--in many respects, the people of Breb have been living the same way of life, almost unchanged, for 400 years.
The first thing we did after moving our things inside was to talk a walk around part of the village, wandering past ornate wooden gates and down to the church and back again.
On the way back, we met an old man who asked Taylor to push his alfalfa cart (not in English, of course)--so Taylor gamely picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and followed him home. He was a crafty old man, and now we're also the owners of three giant wooden utensils to the tune of 150 lei ($32). He also had a book about Maramures, and he flipped through it to proudly show us the picture of himself in the chapter on Breb. Penny (the hotel owner, henceforth referred to as her name) told us he was a scam, but I guess I'm fine with a scam if it makes a fun memory that doesn't involve my purse being stolen.
For dinner, Penny took us and a young German couple (Ana and Valentin) over to a local family's house, which turned out to be one of the most memorable experiences I think I'll ever have. First, she showed us the "dowry room," which is a traditional room in each house filled with embroidered blankets that are passed down through the family. Every house in the village has one and it's also the room where they would entertain guests--similar to a parlor. Then she took us to the dining room, which looked much like a farmhouse you'd find in America.
The woman cooking our dinner brought us in a vegetable soup and mashed potatoes and beef, and then just for me fried zucchini, buttery mashed potatoes without gravy, and pickled vegetables. We also had apple tuica (their homemade liquor--there are over twenty distilleries here), homemade wine, and fluffy pastries (Romanian donuts) that were sprinkled with powdered sugar and tasted lightly of lemon. If the food in the restaurants here had tasted like the food we had tonight, I'd probably have gained five pounds by now.
We also had great company and conversation--Ana and Valentin were also traveling Romania but have traveled widely across Europe, so we talked about all of our journeys, law school, life in our different countries, and of course Donald Trump and what a national embarrassment he is. (Their hypothesis: "It seems like there are some very dumb people in your country, to let this happen.")
Penny also told us a little bit more about the village customs and how religion is such a central part of life--Sunday is sacred, and people don't work that day even at the risk of losing crops; they also still wear their traditional clothing to services. Apparently it is also very taboo for women to go to bars--married women don't go at all, while younger women are allowed to go only on Sunday afternoons (not for alcohol) to sit and socialize with their girlfriends (no boys allowed at the table). She also told us how important reputation is in the village, and how it is comprised of three settlements of families who generally intermarry--a suicide, for instance, can ruin a family's good name.
After dinner, the woman who had cooked for us showed Taylor how she was making cream and then took us to the barn, where the husband was mucking out stalls and feeding the horses and pigs (they work late into the night here).
Then we walked back down the rutted roads--it's very dark here--and sat around the fire pit with our new friends as well as a Malaysian couple who is also staying here for a few days and just came up from Bulgaria.
Today was exactly the reason I came to Romania--not only to witness a different way of life, but also to meet other people and hear about their diverse experiences so that I can learn and grow too.
The drive was a little nerve-wracking--not because of traffic, though there were still those death-wish drivers zipping around, but because there was often no cell signal and the roads can get rough. We drove straight through, slowing down once for a pig on the side of the road, and saw some beautiful countryside along the way--are all the lakes like mirrors here? I've only seen a few, but it certainly feels like it.
Breb, our destination, is down a rutted gravel path where chickens dart and you can hear the sounds of wood being chopped and dogs barking; the place where we're staying is the Village Hotel. It's run by an Englishwoman and has five houses. Ours is Casa Picata and used to be a barn, but we have our own small dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and tiny bedroom. It's decorated with embroidery and art from Maramures, and painted brightly in almost every room.
The owner told us that though some things have changed--for instance, houses now have satellite dishes and electricity--in many respects, the people of Breb have been living the same way of life, almost unchanged, for 400 years.
On the way back, we met an old man who asked Taylor to push his alfalfa cart (not in English, of course)--so Taylor gamely picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and followed him home. He was a crafty old man, and now we're also the owners of three giant wooden utensils to the tune of 150 lei ($32). He also had a book about Maramures, and he flipped through it to proudly show us the picture of himself in the chapter on Breb. Penny (the hotel owner, henceforth referred to as her name) told us he was a scam, but I guess I'm fine with a scam if it makes a fun memory that doesn't involve my purse being stolen.
We also had great company and conversation--Ana and Valentin were also traveling Romania but have traveled widely across Europe, so we talked about all of our journeys, law school, life in our different countries, and of course Donald Trump and what a national embarrassment he is. (Their hypothesis: "It seems like there are some very dumb people in your country, to let this happen.")
Penny also told us a little bit more about the village customs and how religion is such a central part of life--Sunday is sacred, and people don't work that day even at the risk of losing crops; they also still wear their traditional clothing to services. Apparently it is also very taboo for women to go to bars--married women don't go at all, while younger women are allowed to go only on Sunday afternoons (not for alcohol) to sit and socialize with their girlfriends (no boys allowed at the table). She also told us how important reputation is in the village, and how it is comprised of three settlements of families who generally intermarry--a suicide, for instance, can ruin a family's good name.
After dinner, the woman who had cooked for us showed Taylor how she was making cream and then took us to the barn, where the husband was mucking out stalls and feeding the horses and pigs (they work late into the night here).
Then we walked back down the rutted roads--it's very dark here--and sat around the fire pit with our new friends as well as a Malaysian couple who is also staying here for a few days and just came up from Bulgaria.
Today was exactly the reason I came to Romania--not only to witness a different way of life, but also to meet other people and hear about their diverse experiences so that I can learn and grow too.
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