There was no blog post yesterday because I spent the entire day and night in bed sleeping. I had been battling a bit of a sore throat leading up until then and decided to let my body have all of yesterday to heal itself. I'm now back to feeling great and somewhere in the middle of Nowhere, Romania.

We're actually in Onești, staying in a quaint motel/restaurant called Hanul Marisano. Their food isn't half bad and there was live music to boot. I can actually hear the drum machine/vocals/lone saxophone from our room. Oh, that reminds me. Dad and I are sharing a room that cost maybe $40 and consists of 1 bathroom, 2 tiny twin beds, and 0 windows. But it's just one night and who needs windows to look out of when they're sleeping?  

So, how'd we get here this late at night? We left Bucharest this morning after breakfast and made way for Peleș Castle, located near Sinaia in the Transylvania region of Romania. Yes, this is Dracula land. But rather than go for the "dracula castle" in Bran, we opted for the more ornate and historically accurate option to the South. I could also tell my dad was put off by the idea of any Dracula-tourism, so this seemed like the best bet for an authentic Romania castle experience.

And it was. Although we received a thorough tour of the interior, it was the exterior of the castle that really impressed me.  Not only did it have some amazing woodwork to contrast the stone facade, it was also surrounded by rosebushes, statues, and set against the forested Bucegi Mountains. 

Another unexpected surprise was the drive from Sinaia to our current destination. We drove through the Bucegi Mountains, then through farmlands, multiple flocks of sheep, and a multitude of small, perhaps nameless villages. As we drove through one, Dad had to weave aside for some cows that decided to take a walk in the middle of the road. 

Today was the day we packed into the car and drove 3 hours to Galați to meet Sonia (my grandmother's youngest sister) as well as my father's two other cousins, Radu and Nicoleta. I was anxious to see just how much Sonia would look like my grandmother Tania and found her to not only resemble her quite a bit, but also share several mannerisms.

Something I was not expecting--maybe because of how preoccupied I was with what Sonia would be like--was how incredibly warm, affectionate, and hospitable the family is. We gathered at Nicoleta's home, and the most impressive and enormous spread was awaiting us on the dining room. It was crazy. That wasn't even the whole meal. There were three courses that followed the spread!

Although most of the conversation was in Romanian, I was able to follow along better than I had expected. It also turned out that Nicoleta is fluent in English (and teaches it, no less) and several other relatives including her son, Andrei. One thing that was interesting to see was how everyone would talk over each other, which reminded me a lot of my Colombian relatives.

l to r: Andrei, Aleco, Serge, Sergiu, Radu

Sonia's eyes are identical to Tania's. It reminded me so much of how I would seek validation or approval from my grandmother and never know whether she was proud of me or ambivalent or just plain out of it. I suppose towards the end she was mostly out of it and that's probably why our relationship strengthened during that time more so than in the past. She no longer cared that I was lousy at French or hopelessly lacked grace in my dancing skills. 

When we left, Sonia took my face in her hands and told me how glad she was to meet me. She then asked if she reminded me of Tania. That's when I lost it. Yes, there were the physical similarities, but there were also the moments when I caught her sneaking food to the family dog from the dining table, and the way she threw up her hands when she didn't know the answer to a question.  Not to mention that very moment while I was sitting next to her as she was tucked into bed surrounded by the same style of paintings and knick-knacks my grandmother collected. It was uncanny and it took me back to when I could hug my grandmother the way I was hugging her in that moment.

[a portion of] The Celibidache Family

I did not write yesterday because by the time I was able to, I had already been awake for 24 hours straight and the last thing I wanted to do was stay up for a bit longer to write about a day that I mainly slept-walk through. So, let's pretend yesterday didn't happen even though it did involve a wonderful dinner at Sergiu & Adriana's home, where we will be staying during our visit in Bucharest.

Today was our crash course into Bucharest sightseeing and history. Although this might be an unpopular thing to say, I have found myself really drawn to the communist-era architecture. Probably because it's unlike anything I've ever seen before. Of course, the older architecture that has been preserved in the city is even more beautiful. It's just there's so much more intrigue and rawness to the country's communist history.

We drove around the city for a bit before parking and walking around the old part of town. This is where the city best lives up to it's previous reputation as "little Paris". This entire area is closed off to motor vehicles, so we were able to walk around and sit outside for a coffee and snack.

We visited one of the older Orthodox churches, where we bought candles to light for our living and deceased relatives/friends. The candles are lit and placed in (what appeared to be) bronze lockers--one labeled vii (for the living) and  "adormiti" (asleep, or rather, deceased). We lit a few for each and crossed ourselves after placing them in the lockers. 

After wandering through the old part of town, we continued to Herăstrău Park, to visit the Natural Village Museum. Wow. This museum does not receive the credit it should in travel guides. It is an outdoor museum and contains the traditional houses from around the various regions in Romania. Even Serge, who isn't a fan of museums, enjoyed himself. What was most interesting to observe was the similarity the houses from the Moldova region had to those of my grandparents, or rather, the parents of Serge and my dad. Some of the houses were outfitted with furniture and other domestic tools which struck a strong resemblance to the way my grandparents decorated their home.

After the museum, we enjoyed a cocktail on the lake (in the same park) before dashing off to dinner reservations at Caru' cu Bere. We were told this was the place to go for a traditional Romanian meal. Plus, they had dancers perform traditional dances--one of which was...flamenco? It was an interesting moment for me in which my two heritages clashed in an unsuspecting manner. But what really took the cake was when dad was asked by a very attractive dancer to join him on the floor. 

We also had a somewhat sad looking Marcel Marceau come up to us with various hats and other costume props who offered to have our fortunes told by his pet parakeets. My fortune was spot on, and I paraphrase: "Do not listen to men, do not trust them. Whatever you do, do not follow the advice of men." At least, that's how I remember it.