people might be basically good...

I left Ploiesti for good on the Sunday night train.
I had bought my ticket earlier in the bed and the type of bed that I had requested on the train was not available so I said "whatever" and assumed they would give me a seat and not a bed. My gazda mom helped me drag my 7 bags to the train station, repeating "sapte bagaj" to me in consternation and concern that all 7 would be stolen from me during the night.
I ungracefully got on the train and found a mostly empty compartment to settle into. Twenty minutes later the conductor came in to check tickets and told me that I actually had a bed, but I pointed to my luggage and said I couldn't carry it all to the next car. I think he told me to wait and left the compartment. So I sat there and waited for I didn't know what. Would the conductor come back? Would he help me move my bags? Would I just be waiting the whole night for the conductor?
A couple stops later the conductor returned and the poor man asked for my heaviest bag and then told me to follow him with the rest of the bags, which I did, right off the train. Was he dumping me off in who-knows where? No, he was still talking to me, so I followed him a couple cars forward were he passed my heaviest bag onto another conductor and said goodnight. I began to follow the other conductor who passed me a bag of sheets, showed me my bed and put my heaviest bag in the conductors compartment for safekeeping or for them to go through on their free time. Either way, I didn't want to sleep with that bag, so I left it there, made my bed and snuggled in with my other bags, including a hard, awkward water filter.
The train was supposed to arrive at Vama at 5 in the morning, so I set my alarm for 4:50 and slept fitfully in fear of missing my stop. By 4:55 I was in the hall waiting to get off and the conductor looked at me, laughed a little and said the train was running late and we wouldn't get there for another 30 minutes. So I stood in the hall with my head out the window watching the first light of dawn and getting ready at each station the train stopped at, only to be told that I wasn't there yet.
When the train did reach Vama my gazda man, Ciprian, and and old blue van with stumps of wood in the back were waiting for me. Home sweet home.
My porch.