Da Pie!

I'm getting fancy.

Ta da!

Thank you, Martha Stewart.

The Madge Pad

My house is the smaller one on the left.

Time for the grand ole tour of my home sweet home! I must warn you, this is by no means normal for a Peace Corps volunteer. I am very lucky.

The house I now live in used to be the language school I now work for. Since the school expanded, they moved to a different location and converted this into my house. Since it was a former school, it came equipped with many things like butterfly stickers on the walls, flower pillows, and bright colored everything. In fact, my first disagreement with my counterpart was during my site visit when I had to explain to her, while picking out wallpaper, that I was not a fan of butterflies. Her heart was broken when she realized I did not like the lime green wallpaper with purple and red butterflies she had suggested. We went with neutral-colored squares. But alas, I am living here for two years, so the butterfly stickers are coming off the walls and the mirrors. They can go in the prancing room with the sun and choo choo train mural.

First we have the kitchen...

Nothing much to point out except the mint green coffee maker at the end of the bench that is my life. Also, that the only place I have an acceptable internet connection is on the counter to the left of the sink. In fact, that is where I am right now. Writing this blog.

Behind that door up above is bathroom #1 (yes, I have two. Well, 1.5 by American standards)

To the right of the kitchen is the eating area. This is were I spend most of my time. and the table is usually covered in papers and books.

Fridge to the right. Rózsa Gyerekház (Rose Children's House) is the name of the school as seen on the wall. Take note of the lime green flower pillows on the bench.

And then we have the main bathroom. Great tub.

Yes, candles on the tub, and bubble bath on hand.

My room.

It's hard to see, but Tamás' school picture is on my desk (my counterpart/neighbor's son). He wanted me to have it. So precious. Also, face clocks on the wall. Not my addition. They don't work. It's just for the faces. 

Lastly, the prancing room. Yes, an entire room for prancing around. Complete with butterfly, train, and smiling sun murals. It's also where I store the unwanted artwork that came with the house courtesy of my counterpart's husband. I turned one around for your enjoyment. There are 12 of them. It's a zodiac series.

That concludes the tour. Now you know where to picture me in Romania! I really just hope this makes you want to come visit me. 

Shimmy, Shimmy, Body Roll

Free classes at the local gym today. You know what that means.

 ZUMBA TIME!


I may or may not have pulled something...

Merry Men in the Hills.

Somewhere in the hills near my house a group of men gather in the evening to sing merry tunes. I am not sure why, or what else they are doing, but I can't say I mind. I imagine a hobbit-like gathering, with lots of beer and jolly tunes sung barefoot while prancing around a fire. Maybe a few dwarves and wizards are there too.

The Csabs

The Summer is coming to a close. School begins on Monday, and so does my new life as an English "teacher." Hah. We'll see how this goes.

The past couple of months have been filled with English camps, conferences, short trips here and there, and a nice two week stint with a throat infection. A pretty busy Summer when I think about it. I've met a lot of kids and struggled to pronounce their Hungarian names, especially those I had never heard before. While I will forget most of the names I learned, there is one little boy that could never and will never be erased from my memory. Csaba. [pronounced Chaw-buh]

One of the English camps I worked was in a small village near Sfântu Gheorghe. It was run by a Unitarian minister, and she had a special guest for the week, her godson...Csaba.

I must admit, Csaba and I got off to a rocky start when he crawled under the table and tried to lift my dress at a confirmation dinner we were graciously invited to. Luckily my anticipation and good defensive skills prevented complete embarrassment and disaster.

Anyway, a little about the Csabster. As you can see in the picture, he is a bit overweight, but this just adds to his charm. The first thing I learned about Csaba was that he hates soup. In Romania and Hungary soup is an essential part of the main meal no matter the season. Because of this, Csaba felt the need to make his disapproval known everyday. Before every meal with a soup component he would yell "I DON'T WANT SOUP!" After the declaration, he would just lie his head on his plate and wait for the second course (meat) while the rest of us enjoyed the soup.

While Csaba hates soup, he certainly loves ketchup. This condiment graces the top of every meat he consumes. Not to mention there is a special place reserved for ketchup on his shirt. Yes, every meal we eat is represented on the ill-fitted t-shirts he wears. The shirts, stained from the grease and ketchup meals, are always a bit too short exposing the bottom portion of his little (actually big) belly.

While Csaba may not be the most refined 7 year old, he is quite smart. He loves animals, and knows quite a lot about them. This love would take him on all sorts of adventures in the yard. I would frequently observe him wandering in the garden talking to himself, or maybe to nature, not sure. In the yard they kept a mini trampoline, and Csaba would on several occasions jump about seven times, give up, and take a nap on the trampoline. Adventure over.

Another meal time favorite moment of mine was when he took to farting at the dinner table. Luckily we always enjoyed our meals outside. After the first or second occurrence, I believe his godmother had a talk with him because from then on, if he had to fart, he would get up, run approximately 10 feet away from the table, abruptly stop with his back towards us, and let it rip. I could never hold in my laughter.

At one of my last meals with the family, we were talking about how interesting this little fellow is. His godmother said, "Yeah, he is in a world of his own." At that precise moment we all turned our heads to see Csaba in the yard entangled in a garden hose. We all broke into laughter as they explained to me, "He's fighting a snake." He is indeed a special boy.

There really is so much to tell about Csaba. Like when he brilliantly died of a heart attack in the church play...

Or when he ran his neck straight into the limbo bar...

Or when he repeatedly hit his head on the desk because he was dissatisfied with his pear drawing...

But like all acquaintances, the time comes to say goodbye. On the last day, we held an exhibition to show all of the work the students had done during the camp. At this exhibition I showed my fondness by gently placing my hand upon Csaba's shaven head. He returned the gesture by grabbing my arm and smelling it. Thus ended my week with The Csabs.

To my delight, I was informed that Csaba lives in a village near my town, meaning it is possible that Csaba and I will have a reunion in the streets of Udvarhely. I sincerely hope so.

Reactivate!

My site in Udvarhely, Romania (its Hungarian name). Otherwise known as Odorheiu Secuiesc.

I have decided to start blogging again. It is time to document my two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Romania! And yes, I am going to reuse the blog I created when I studied abroad. And look! My last post was about Romania. It was meant to be. :) Let the blogging (re)commence!