Snow

Ok, this post is a little late. I'm a huge procrastinator and I took these pictures last week during a snowstorm we had.

I wanted to go back to the market one more time. My Canadian friend Tim wants a Romanian belt, so I hoped I would find him a decent one there.

The market in Piata Aurora is possibly the ugliest market I have ever been to.

You have to pay 5000 lei to get in, although the "bouncer" lets his friends in all the time for free.

Inside is cramped and dark from the overhanging eaves. While I want to say you can find anything there, that is not true. You can find:
a) knock-off Gucci, Christian Dio, Fubu and Addidas clothing
b) old tools and car parts
c) cosmetics and beauty tools
d) tacky lamps and hairdryers
e) knock-off toys from Tailand and Vietnam
f) perfumes

And then there's the clothing "market". Instead of "you break it, you buy it", here, it's "you look at it, you buy it". Tables and tables and tables of clothing (many of it imported from Germany) everywhere. I had hoped to find a few gems, but with the excerption of a few H&M dresses much too small for me, there is nothing ever there. Not even decent belts.

If you have the misfortune of catching the seller's eye, he or she will start yelling at you to buy something. Or at least take a closer look. "Domnisoara, domnisoara!!!" I'm afraid of even touching anything, because the sellers will start hovering over you like vultures at a fresh carcass.

Inside the other part of the market, gypsies call out to you to look at their (mostly stolen) wares. I had the misfortune of having a bottle of perfume catch my eye. I never wear perfume but I'm obsessed with the bottle for Kenzo's Flower. Sure enough, the seller came over and was standing so close to me I could have had her children had I so desired. She was dressed in a typical gypsy "costume" with a blong colourful skirt and kerchief.

Soon, I was surrounded by gypsies. She insisted I smell every bottle. She kept yanking off the covers and shoving my nose into them. "No, I don't want that perfume. I'm just looking!".

Bad move on my part. Soon, her husband and children came over and it was like a one-ring circus with me as the main act. I had my purse wedged tightly in the crook of my arm so no one could take anything from it.

She tried to make me a deal. "Special low price! Two for one!" I told her I don't wear perfume, that I didn't have any money and that I just wanted to look. "Nu am bani! Nu am bani!" I have no idea if that's correct Romanian but oh well.

I couldn't tear myself away from them. Or, more accurately, she couldn't tear herself from me. She asked for my name. My address. My phone number. People were starting to stare.

I managed to extract myself from the circle of gypsies.

I wear the Roma are telepathic. Seriously.

As I walked away, another gypsy came up and tried to get me to look at her table. She came running after me holding several bottles of perfumes. She tried to pull me back inside and I told her less than politely to not touch me.

No one has any bags there. The Romanians are smart and bring their own. If you buy something and have no bag, everyone will know you have money and will yell at you to look at their stuff. It's their secret plot.

One table is interchangeable with the next. Nothing interesting or unique. There are only so many knock-off sweaters with misspelled words I can take in one morning.