The Land of Bread and Honey

What can I tell you about Brusturoasa?

Once I had a dream that I was in the old world, and the sound of the train crept by like a whisper in the starriest of nights along the cool and clean river. And in that dream there was laughter, green fields of colorful wildflowers and red fruit, vines that hung low and high along fences made of seasoned wood, birds that flew overhead into the sunset and the horsecarts' wheels made time with the clop, clop, clop of a stately animal with a long, golden mane.

This was the dream that I dreamt of "times gone by" and I realized it this week when I saw my new home for the next two years. Every person that I met, either down the road, in the church, at the school where I will teach, and among my gazda family, each of them, were welcoming, curious, anxious, and full of wishes for our time together.

I slept well for the first time in a while and I knew that this was a place that I could call home. The town is small and the people have much to do. There are holidays, birthdays, weddings and funerals in the tradition of a true Romania. There is peacefulness and fresh air. The mountains lie right behind the house where I will live, complete with a large working garden and animals that sustain the property. There are two dogs, a horse, many chickens, roosters, and turkeys, five pigs, and two cows. We will eat branza cured in fir tree bark, sip homemade palinka and elderflower tea, and admire all the freshness there that will grace our table. And I will be fortunate enough in time to bear witness to the beauty of many seasons of cultivation. There will be very cold winters, lots of cultural diversions, and a short spring and summer, yet days that hold surprises in nature around every corner, and hopes for a wonderful Peace Corps service with a multitude of possibilities.