Romania and stuff

Romania

My trip to Romania was very good.  I will go ahead and tell about all the characters in my story so that I do not have to keep referring to the “guy who is German who was in charge of our trip” or “the Romanian girl who could speak English and went around with us”.  There were seven of us total that drove from Chemnitz to Romania.  First is my friend Jon, who I met in the German course and needed to go back to Romania to get some insurance stuff worked out.  Then Ingo, Detliff, Dagma, and Mischa were all from the church here in Chemnitz.  Dagma was the only woman with us and Mischa was our boss.  Silvio and myself were the last of our party from Germany.   I do not think Silvio knew anyone but Mischa before the trip.  He comes from a part of Germany that has a very strong accent and a different dialect that is sometimes very hard to understand.  The rest of the people are Romanians that we met there.  Nate and Mari is a young married couple who went around as our translators.  Nate can speak German and Romanian and Mari Romanian and English so I was able to understand too.  For three nights we stayed with a pastor named Niko and his wife and daughter. So those are all the major players in this tale from afar.  Sorry for the cheesiness, I feel like telling a story and spicing it up, but don’t worry, everything you read here is true. 

So when we started out I really had no idea what we were going to be doing or what I was really supposed to do.  I had been asked if I could drive and so I thought I was going just as a driver and that the other people couldn’t drive at all.  This turned out to be false.  I rode with Silvio the entire time and only drove for a few hours on the long trip there and back.  I couldn’t tell if he just liked to drive or if he was not too sure about my driving.  The first time we swapped on the way there may have had something to do with that.  We had stopped at one of the borders to buy what they call a vignette, which is something you must pay for so that you can drive on the different countries highways.  After a nice little break and stretching it was time to go and Silvio gave me the keys to drive.  I got in the drivers seat, buckled up, and turned on the van.  The other two cars went on ahead of us and since I didn’t want to lose them I kind of rushed the clutch and tried to catch up.  Instead of catching up I stalled out.  And then I did it two or three more times.  I was a bit embarrassed, I had told him I knew how to drive a manual and how I have one back home and all, and then I could not for the life of me get the van to go.  At this point I looked over at Silvio with an expression of I have no idea what is going on here and then noticed the parking break was still on.  I felt a wave of relief that there was another reason for me not being able to get going.  But then it happened again.  I got going in first gear just fine but when I tried to shift to second I killed it again.  I finally got it up to speed and we took off down the highway.  I was happy to be driving in the higher gears where you can’t really kill it like that and then not too long down the road we got stuck in traffic.  And I killed it twice more.  The clutch was very tight so you had to take your foot off of it very slowly.  Because we were in traffic I was trying to go a little too quick and killed it.  Then I killed it again trying to shift into second gear.  At this point Silvio realized what I was doing and let me know I was shifting into fourth gear instead of second.   The van had six gears and the R was on the bottom to the far left, where the second gear is on every other car I have driven.  Because of this I was trying to not move the gear shifter all the way to the left and down when I went to second gear.  I did not realize you have to pull something else to get into R and that the second gear was located in the same place as it normally is.  So, anyways once I figured that out I was ok, but I think the damage may have already been done and so I didn’t have to drive that much.  A little embarrassing, but I guess it kind of worked out good for me.

So anyways, back to our trip.  In the beginning I had it in my mind that this was going to be like the trips to Mexico that I had been on with our church back home.  Because of this I did find several similarities in the two trips, but once I realized that I was trying to make it similar I also found many differences.  We ate good everywhere we went.  The Romanian people we stayed with and met were all very good to us and seemed very appreciative of us being there.  Being with the Germans and seeing their attitudes and the attitudes of the Romanians around the Germans, I realized that Germany is really viewed as a rich country and a good place to live in Europe.  This was a lot like when us as Americans would visit Mexico.  There was a certain attitude that you could feel, and one that I think our youth group and myself probably had when we visited Mexico.  Everything is different from your country and you feel as though you’re being adventurous and learning a new culture.  At the same time there is a kind of arrogance among your group.  It is not a mean arrogance, just kind of a feeling that you know where you come from is better and maybe not even an arrogance but just a feeling of strangeness amongst the new surroundings and so you compare it to what you have back home and think how much easier life is for you.  I know I never realized I felt that when I was in Mexico, and I don’t believe any of the Germans would say they think they are better than the Romanians or anything like that.  But I think once I had seen the poverty in Mexico and the Germans saw the poverty in Romania this arrogance transforms into a kind of pity and maybe even guilt.  The Germans had the same reactions as many of our group had when they came face to face with such extreme poverty, they cried and realized how much we all have.  They thought about their own children living like so many people do, and wanted to bring them back to their world or at least give more to make these kids lives better.  I don’t know how it will impact their lives, but I know for me and probably many others who I have gone to Mexico with it stays with you, although, at the same time, we go back to our worlds and after a few weeks you don’t really think about it anymore.  Before long we are again worrying about what new clothes or shoes we need to look good, or when the next xbox game is coming out.  I really wonder what would the Romanians think or feel if they went to Mexico.  To me, the people in Mexico were worse off, but it really wasn’t by that much.  That’s really not important though, Id just like to know if when people who live in extreme poverty see other people in extreme poverty, would they have the same reactions as us?  Would they see poverty? Would they see everything we don’t see in their lives, or would they see the things that are there and think I wish I had those 4 years old, dirty, holey shoes?  Would it be the same as when I used to go to Matt’s house and wish I had a tv and N64 in my room? 

These kinds of trips remind you that we are the rich people, in America especially.  Its good to be reminded, but also raises a lot of questions.  I used to think how glad I was that my family was not super rich, that my parents made me work growing up and how I learned to be frugal at times and not have to have everything I wanted.  I would read the verses about the rich man going to heaven and how its easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle and think how glad I was that I didn’t have so much that I was so consumed by my possessions.  And then when I saw someone begging or without, I would think Im just a college student, I don’t really have that much to give anyways.  And later Id buy myself a new xbox game.  We are the rich men Jesus talked about.  We are also the ones to whom much has been given, so much is expected from us.  But I don’t know how to give up my things and trust that God will provide.  I can give a little every month or when I go on a trip.  What I think I can give and still have enough to live like I want to, that is.  It makes me feel better about myself, makes me feel like I must be doing something right.  But Jesus told the rich man to sell all his possessions and give the money to the poor. Everything.  How do I give away all my new clothes? What will I wear? What has God already provided that I should keep for myself? What do I really need?  I have no idea.

Id like to end with that, but there is more from Romania that I found interesting.  I had several very good conversations with Jon, Mari, and then with the other Germans.  There are very many Gypsies that live in Romania and the Romanians hate them.  Every Romanian that I talked with about them said the same things.  They said they were lazy and didn’t work or even want to work, that they thought differently than others.  They talked about them being thiefs and begging for money instead of getting real jobs.  There are many houses in Romania that were half built and they said these were all Gypsy houses, that they start to build these huge homes but then don’t have enough money to finish them.  There were also many finished houses that were also clearly Gypsy houses by the decorations they use.  They told me the Gypsies had no taste and built these huge homes with all kinds of tacky decorations.  Mari told me many of the kids didn’t go to school and most didn’t want help to get out of their situations even if there was some kind of help for them, which in most cases there is not.   I guess every society needs someone to hate/blame?

I learned a lot more about Ingo.  He is a man from the church here in Chemnitz who is very interesting to me.  I have known him for three weeks, and been around him a fair amount.  He set up our internet here and then tried to help me with my computer when it didn’t work.  I also have been around him at a few different programs we help with and the entire time had no idea he could speak English.  I do not think I would have known this even now, but he rode with Mari and so the only way to communicate was for him to speak English.  When I had been around him before he acted like he couldn’t understand anything I said in English.  I asked him why he never let on that he could understand and he said it was kind of a German way to not show everything you can do.  He said part of it was from the war and the other part was that you didn’t want to act like you were better than everyone else.  Talking with him and everyone else was very interesting but I cant really explain everything we talked about here. 

A few other things.  We went to a really nice castle one afternoon.  Supposedly Vlad Tepes, aka Vlad the Impaler, aka Dracula was held prisoner here for one year.  There are a few other facts or tales from the castle but Ill attach those to the pictures with which they belong on facebook.  The Romanians eat a lot of peppers and grow grapes everywhere.  It was really cool to be able to pick a bundle of grapes fresh off the vine and eat them.  It was not so cool(pun intended) to eat some of the peppers.  One meal we had some kind of peppers that Silvio and I tried.  He and I both could not eat the whole thing and I even felt kind of lightheaded it was so hot.  Jon had no problem with it and was laughing at us.  Silvio put the last one in his pocket to take home to his son.  I thought that was funny.   We went to the slums, a few families homes, to a childrens home, and to a place where mentally handicapped youth were living.  All these places we dropped off clothes or bikes or something helpful and then played with the kids for a little while. Jon told me he had never seen anything like this and it was very hard for him.  He said hes not usually around this kind of thing.  I was glad he went.  He just wanted a ride back to get his insurance stuff sorted out, but he got a bit of an education too I think.  He is studying politics in the uni here so I told him its good for him to see so that he can now know the people he is serving. He is also Orthodox.  I need to talk with him later, but I don’t think he understood or was used to some of the things we did or what the pastor said.  I am not entirely sure what, or even if I agree with what the pastor said, but he was translating for me and at one point told me now this guy is just being rude. Ha, I am looking forward to finding out what it was he said.

Ill post the pictures on facebook soon I hope.  I didn’t take any pictures of the different places we went because I didn’t feel right about it.  I tried to imagine if people came to my house and started taking pictures like I was an animal in a zoo or some kind of sight to see, and I just think that would feel a bit demeaning.  Besides, you never see the pictures that Jesus, Gandhi, or Mother Theresa took, just the pictures of them loving the people.  Not to say Im anywhere in their ballpark, but I figured it was a start in the right direction to worry more about interacting with the people instead of hiding behind a camera lens.