I was sitting in a mall in Germany this week, on our way back from Paris, with a 4th grader from my school and his dad, Aurel. The 4th grader had just shaken up his coke and when he opened it, it fizzled onto him. His father looked on disapprovingly and told his son, "Don't be a Gheorghe."
I looked at him quizzically. "What is a 'Gheorghe'?"
During the last 12 days this man had spent with me on our school field trip to Paris, he had found endless enjoyment in explaining Romanian proverbs and sayings to me.
Aurel settled back into his chair.
"Gheorghe (George) milks the cow and Ion (John) drink the milk."
I'm not so sure that Ion has the better deal, though...
5.31.2010
4.14.2010
Bran muffins
The amount of cooking and baking I do here is pitiful. really.
I am not starving, just people give me food enough times a week to be substantially sustained.
But sometimes I get in the mood for something that people don't eat much here. Last Saturday I was in the mood for bran muffins. So I looked up the word for bran - tărâță.
"Do you have tărâță?" I asked my counterpart.
she chuckled. "Of course. We feed it to the cows."
I asked a couple different people where I could buy it and someone finally asked me, "Why don't you ask any of your neighbors that have cows."
So I did. "Of course you can have some tărâță. They told me, eying me suspiciously for wanting their cow's food. What for? A cake? Hm."
Granted, the tărâță you feed your cows isn't exactly the tărâță you eat in bran flakes. I painstakingly picked out the wheat grains that had gotten through the crushing process whole and mixed up my mom's recipe for bran muffins.
In the kitchen Gabi was curious about the recipe, Mamitza tried to give me directions for making some other type of Romanian recipe that uses tărâță, and Cipri was shocked that I would use tărâță for baking.
They turned out golden-bottomed, and bran-textured, with the occasional oat grain.
Gabi, the politically correct one, didn't say they were amazing, nor that they were horrible.
Ciprian, the one who says what he thinks, told me that when I get married and make these, my husband will tell me that they are delicious, but to never make them again.
Marin, my neighbor who I got the tărâță from took one bite and told me it tastes like the black bread everyone ate during communism as he ate two more muffins with gusto.
I am not starving, just people give me food enough times a week to be substantially sustained.
But sometimes I get in the mood for something that people don't eat much here. Last Saturday I was in the mood for bran muffins. So I looked up the word for bran - tărâță.
"Do you have tărâță?" I asked my counterpart.
she chuckled. "Of course. We feed it to the cows."
I asked a couple different people where I could buy it and someone finally asked me, "Why don't you ask any of your neighbors that have cows."
So I did. "Of course you can have some tărâță. They told me, eying me suspiciously for wanting their cow's food. What for? A cake? Hm."
Granted, the tărâță you feed your cows isn't exactly the tărâță you eat in bran flakes. I painstakingly picked out the wheat grains that had gotten through the crushing process whole and mixed up my mom's recipe for bran muffins.
In the kitchen Gabi was curious about the recipe, Mamitza tried to give me directions for making some other type of Romanian recipe that uses tărâță, and Cipri was shocked that I would use tărâță for baking.
They turned out golden-bottomed, and bran-textured, with the occasional oat grain.
Gabi, the politically correct one, didn't say they were amazing, nor that they were horrible.
Ciprian, the one who says what he thinks, told me that when I get married and make these, my husband will tell me that they are delicious, but to never make them again.
Marin, my neighbor who I got the tărâță from took one bite and told me it tastes like the black bread everyone ate during communism as he ate two more muffins with gusto.
4.10.2010
The easter marathon
Last Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, I had an Easter marathon of traditions and food.
At 12:30 Sunday morning, I went to the church with my host family to circle the church three times and then went back to bed.
At 10 minutes to 4, 2 hours after getting into bed, my alarm woke me up to go back to church for the blessing of the baskets.
Then I had breakfast with the sleepy-eyed Cozmatchi family at 5:30 that morning.
Slept. slept. slept. Hiked up a nearby hill, played pingpong. slept some more.
At 10 monday morning, day 2 of Easter, some friends of mine took me and Alicia, a visiting volunteer, to a string of monastaries and Daniil Sihastru the hermit's cave. He gave advice to Stefan Cel Mare, Moldova's warrior ruler who fought back the Turks from overruning Europe in the 15th century.
Monday night, in a rain storm, me, Alicia and some friends went to a traditional dance night at a nearby village. Jaunty green alpine hats are sexy.
We arrived home at 3something Tuesday morning.
On Tuesday, we visited Voroneti Monastery, known for its blue colors that retained their hue for 600 years.
Tuesday night I saw Alicia off on the night train and walked back home in a light sprinkle.
Easter is a fantastic, if rough holiday.
At 12:30 Sunday morning, I went to the church with my host family to circle the church three times and then went back to bed.
At 10 minutes to 4, 2 hours after getting into bed, my alarm woke me up to go back to church for the blessing of the baskets.
Then I had breakfast with the sleepy-eyed Cozmatchi family at 5:30 that morning.
Slept. slept. slept. Hiked up a nearby hill, played pingpong. slept some more.
At 10 monday morning, day 2 of Easter, some friends of mine took me and Alicia, a visiting volunteer, to a string of monastaries and Daniil Sihastru the hermit's cave. He gave advice to Stefan Cel Mare, Moldova's warrior ruler who fought back the Turks from overruning Europe in the 15th century.
Monday night, in a rain storm, me, Alicia and some friends went to a traditional dance night at a nearby village. Jaunty green alpine hats are sexy.
We arrived home at 3something Tuesday morning.
On Tuesday, we visited Voroneti Monastery, known for its blue colors that retained their hue for 600 years.
Tuesday night I saw Alicia off on the night train and walked back home in a light sprinkle.
Easter is a fantastic, if rough holiday.
3.13.2010
The Botosani Philharmonic
Yesterday I traveled to the city of Botosani which is the county seat of Botosani county in the plains of north-east Moldova. Romanians from other counties treat Botosani like Americans treat Arkansas. There are numerous jokes concerning the poor driving of Botosanites and their living in Romania's reserve county.
Despite these deprecations, Botosani has a soccer team, an almost 24 hour marketplace, a pizza place run by an actual Italian and a Philharmonic.
Last night I went to the Philharmonic with a couple of volunteers who work in the reserve counties seat.
We filed into our faded dusty-rose velour covered square seats with the soundtrack of musicians warming up behind the stage.
Soon the members of the Philharmonic paraded on stage and took their seats, playing a few more practice cords while waiting for the conductor.
The conductor was Ilarion Ionescu-Galati. He walked onto the old wooden platform, stooped with a slight limp-twitch in his right leg, silver haired. He wore a dark maroon jacket. It was laced to halfway up his neck with black kimono-style buttons. Around his neck was a short bolo tie and the material widened into puffed sleeves at the shoulder. Anne of Green Gables might be jealous of this man's sleeves. Domnul Ionescu-Galati pulled off the look and made it distinguished to boot.
The musicians were talented, the conductor gracious, and the solo cellist danced his head to the music that was smoothly flowing from his bow.
I often listen to classical music on my laptop. It is a different experience to see the music, not coming from a battered square silver box, but from a multitude of delicate wooden instruments and horse hairs. Twenty bows going up down up down in unison.
Despite these deprecations, Botosani has a soccer team, an almost 24 hour marketplace, a pizza place run by an actual Italian and a Philharmonic.
Last night I went to the Philharmonic with a couple of volunteers who work in the reserve counties seat.
We filed into our faded dusty-rose velour covered square seats with the soundtrack of musicians warming up behind the stage.
Soon the members of the Philharmonic paraded on stage and took their seats, playing a few more practice cords while waiting for the conductor.
The conductor was Ilarion Ionescu-Galati. He walked onto the old wooden platform, stooped with a slight limp-twitch in his right leg, silver haired. He wore a dark maroon jacket. It was laced to halfway up his neck with black kimono-style buttons. Around his neck was a short bolo tie and the material widened into puffed sleeves at the shoulder. Anne of Green Gables might be jealous of this man's sleeves. Domnul Ionescu-Galati pulled off the look and made it distinguished to boot.
The musicians were talented, the conductor gracious, and the solo cellist danced his head to the music that was smoothly flowing from his bow.
I often listen to classical music on my laptop. It is a different experience to see the music, not coming from a battered square silver box, but from a multitude of delicate wooden instruments and horse hairs. Twenty bows going up down up down in unison.
3.11.2010
Doamne de Engleza
I was gingerly walking home on the icy road on Tuesday when I passed a few seven year olds milling around in front of a neighbor's house, each standing next to a flexible-flyer type sled. As I passed by, they respectfully saluted me
"sarut mana"
"buna ziua" I responded as I walked by.
Behind me I heard whisperings. "Uite. Asta e profesoara de Engleza." (That's the English teacher).
"Nu. nu cred." ( No. I don't believe you)
"ba da" (is too)
By now I was several meters in front of the children and I heard them pick up their pace, their sleds' scraping-on-ice noises becoming louder.
"Buna" said one of the boys, who I recognized as one of my kindergarten students, Ionuti.
"Buna ziua. Ce faci?" (Hello, what are you doing?)
"Mergem cu sanie." (we're going sledding)
"Pe parte dreapte sau pe parte stange?" (Towards the right or left fork of the road?)
By now, all three are walking abreast with me.
"Pe dreapta" (to the right)
"E bine acolo" (it's good over there).
I continue my small talk until I reach my gate. "Distractia placuta" (have a good time), I tell them, as I start to turn towards my driveway.
"Doamna, el nu ma crede ca esti Doamna de engleza" (Mrs, he doesn't believe me that you are the English Misses) my kindergarten student blurts out.
I look at the doubting thomas. "Sunt Doamna de Engleza" (I am the English Misses).
Ionuti looks at me with satisfaction and turns up the hill with his sled and his friends.
"sarut mana"
"buna ziua" I responded as I walked by.
Behind me I heard whisperings. "Uite. Asta e profesoara de Engleza." (That's the English teacher).
"Nu. nu cred." ( No. I don't believe you)
"ba da" (is too)
By now I was several meters in front of the children and I heard them pick up their pace, their sleds' scraping-on-ice noises becoming louder.
"Buna" said one of the boys, who I recognized as one of my kindergarten students, Ionuti.
"Buna ziua. Ce faci?" (Hello, what are you doing?)
"Mergem cu sanie." (we're going sledding)
"Pe parte dreapte sau pe parte stange?" (Towards the right or left fork of the road?)
By now, all three are walking abreast with me.
"Pe dreapta" (to the right)
"E bine acolo" (it's good over there).
I continue my small talk until I reach my gate. "Distractia placuta" (have a good time), I tell them, as I start to turn towards my driveway.
"Doamna, el nu ma crede ca esti Doamna de engleza" (Mrs, he doesn't believe me that you are the English Misses) my kindergarten student blurts out.
I look at the doubting thomas. "Sunt Doamna de Engleza" (I am the English Misses).
Ionuti looks at me with satisfaction and turns up the hill with his sled and his friends.
3.07.2010
casting
Applying for graduate school is like fishing for a frog prince. I spend hours casting my google searches until I find a school that I fall in love with and imagine myself meandering across the campus grounds so beautifully photographed on the welcome page. I painstakingly give them my detailed information, find contact information for various references and write an eloquent but honest personal statement about how certain classes on the course schedule would fit my exact needs and desires. But will the frog turn into a prince?
So in my uncertainty, I turn back to the sea of google...
So in my uncertainty, I turn back to the sea of google...
2.27.2010
tooting my own horn
Last week, my 8th graders learned how to write a thank you letter. Their homework assignment was to write a thank-you letter to one of their teachers who has impacted them. A couple of the letters were for me:
Dear Rachel
I thank you for teaching us English. You are a great teacher. With you English seems to be so easy. I'm sorry if I wasn't so good as you were expecting. Thank you because you are so patient.
That club in English that you made for us, it is great.
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to share American culture.
Thank you for coming in our country to teach us English.
Yours Sincerely, Lavinia
Dear Miss Rachel,
Thank you immensely for that this year we have progressed in English and that only thanks to you. I am very sorry that you will leave soon as it was and still is an excellent collaboration. If you were not here I would not have the knowledge that I know now. In the near future we will get together if you will of course come to Romania because I do not think I will go to America. As I understand you will go on to do master in your native land. I hope that you will come back.
Thank you once again,
Of your student Andrei
Booyah-kasha
Dear Rachel
I thank you for teaching us English. You are a great teacher. With you English seems to be so easy. I'm sorry if I wasn't so good as you were expecting. Thank you because you are so patient.
That club in English that you made for us, it is great.
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to share American culture.
Thank you for coming in our country to teach us English.
Yours Sincerely, Lavinia
Dear Miss Rachel,
Thank you immensely for that this year we have progressed in English and that only thanks to you. I am very sorry that you will leave soon as it was and still is an excellent collaboration. If you were not here I would not have the knowledge that I know now. In the near future we will get together if you will of course come to Romania because I do not think I will go to America. As I understand you will go on to do master in your native land. I hope that you will come back.
Thank you once again,
Of your student Andrei
Booyah-kasha
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