The website formerly known as Ro-Mania: June 2005

Timisoara sites

Timisoara

Red is Piata Unirii
Orange is my apartment complex
Yellow is Piata Libertatii
Green is the central market
Blue is Piata Opera / Victoriei
Purple is the Cathedral

Timisoara

Everyone must go here now!

Isn't that cool?

Cooking part #2

I think I was pissing Cristi off this morning, complaining about all the foods I can't get here.

And asking "can you get X food here?"

On a good note, you can't get a lot of the uberfattening, processed foods that are readily available at home (and that I don't eat anyways).

I was thinking back to the rows and rows of commercial salad dressings.

And I can't even get Dijonnaise here.

And it's hard to describe what I want. How do you describe graham cracker crumbs? Or graham crackers, for that matter?

Anyways, I know I'm going to have reverse culture shock when I go home.

"What do you mean I can't get zacusca here? Oh, the humanity..."

Romanian

On other unrelated news, my Romanian language skills are progressing nicely. I had a lovely hour-long discussion with my neighbour the other night. Of course, I don't speak perfectly, but I can use the past and future tenses fairly well and more importantly, I can understand people and they can understand me.

I am quite upset at my "Learn Romanian" book though. It was the best of what was available here but is mainly for business people. So I can say "Please enter. My secretary will be with you shortly" and "When is our business meeting?" In the begining, all the exercises had answer keys. Now, maybe 1/5 of them do, and I'm the type who needs constant reassurance that what I am doing is correct. Not to mention that the author uses vocabulary that isn't found in the back of the book, nor in my dictionary. And she doesn't explain grammar. Verb conjugation is top notch but I need to know how to put everything together.

Romanian is a difficult language. I'm embarassed that I am having such a hard time with it. When I lived in Sweden, I had Swedish classes for the first few months, but five years later I'm still more or less conversational. I've been fluent in French since I was six years old, so living in France wasn't a problem.

Now I'm at the point where I pick up small idiosyncracies in the language. And I have to make sure I don't mix in Swedish or French (or Italian or Spanish) words. I tried to tell my neighbour that I missed my mom. Since I have no idea how to make reflexive verbs yet, nor to I know the word for "miss", I was formulating a sentence along the lines of...well...I won't embarass myself and say what I was going to say, but the English translation was that I wanted to eat my mother. (Manque in French is "miss", manca in Romanian is "eat"...both are pronounced approximately the same).

And the word for tomatoes, "rosii", is the same word for "red" in the plural sense. So does that mean that "tomatoes" mean "reds"? After all, tomatoes *are* red.

And "light" and "dark" and synonyms for "open" and "closed".

Just weird stuff like that.

I have small victories though. Yesterday at the fountain, a woman asked me "apa este bun?" (is the water good?) and without thinking, I answered "da, apa este foarte bun" (yes, the water is very good).

Note for locals: the fountain on Alba Iulia street kicks the ass of all other fountains in town, even the supposed "magical" fountain in PIata Unirii.

I also found out the psycho demonic cats who live on top of the garage don't belong to anyone: they're strays adopted by the building! Now I don't feel so guilty about hating them! One of the kittens let me pick it up and pat it but it is an incredibly ugly cat regardless.

Funny the names the ladies gave the cats. The kittens are "Jimmy" and "Charlie". The big fat tabby upstairs is "Bombonelu" but this gets turned into any number of nicknames like Bombonitchka and Bonouchka.

I hate mosquitos

This is hard for me to write.

I know no one will believe it anyways.

I'm...I'm h-h-h...

Homesick.

Yes, Karla, the eternal world traveller, who has lived in four countries in four years...wants to go home.

There were many reasons why I chose to stay in Romania:
a) I love Timisoara (Timisoara > Bucharest)
b) good friends
c) thought I would be living with some cool Frenchies

Well, Timisoara is still great. No complaints there. But my friends are all writing exams now, so I never see them. I work with my best friend, so we don't go out at night anymore and besides, he wants to spend time with his girlfriend, which I can understand. And since I was cheated out of my apartment with the Frenchies and needed to find a new one, I am lonely. (And as a postscript, the girls who took my room didn't get along with my former roomates and ended up moving out anyways).

Sure, I love my new apartment and my kooky neighbours but sometimes I get so lonely I could scream. No computer, no television. Just me, the same books and magazines I've read over and over since September and a room missing some windows.

This means that the mosquitos have discovered Canadian flesh.

It only makes sense. Everyone always loves foreign food. Which would explain the multitude of Oriental restaurants at home, the Italian restaurants here and the popularity of Mexican food everywhere.

So it's only natural that the mosquitos would prefer my imported Canadian blood to the standard, run of the mill Romanian fare that they're used to.

I have twenty three mosquito bites on my arms. TWENTY THREE! People stare at me on the streets. People comment on my arms when they come into work. I look like I have leprosy.

I nearly scratched my arm off last night. And please, no comments about "don't scratch". I haven't touched the bites on my shoulders and they look like someone extinguished cigarettes on my skin. I attacked my wrist yesterday because I couldn't sleep. Miraculously, they don't itch this morning.

They bite me while I sleep. I close my sunroom and kitchen doors so they don't get in, but mosquitos are crafty creatures. I have to leave my bedroom window open because otherwise the apartment turns into a sauna. Often, I'll be woken up with a "zzzzzzzz" in my ear.

Cristi gave me a plugin to repel mosquitos last night. Works like a charm. Not a single mosquito around me last night!

Due to some error, I had a 50 euro heat/water bill for the month of June. Does this make sense? No, it doesn't to me either, especially since I only paid like 20 euros in the winter for my other apartment.

On Tuesday, I was told to give my "metre readings" to the landlord that night. I had no idea what this was, so I figured I could just ask someone the next day. Turns out that Tuesday was the last day for collecting the heat/water data.

My bill was over 1,800,000 lei.

It was for the end of May and the first of June. We had no heat! And the hot water was turned off for two weeks in the meantime.

They told me that sometimes they average out the heating bills in the winter and summer, and since there were three people in my apartment, and now there's just one, my bill is actually triple what it should be.

Still, it doesn't make sense. Apparently they average the bills of everyone who didn't give their readings and make everyone pay the same amount. But still... These apartments aren't big and most of the tennants are single people, not families.

Cooking

I was at Billa yesterday pricing things for the Canada Day party.

Kind of hard to make a cheesecake when you can't find a single ingredient.

Well, I found the butter. That's it.

I found spreadable cream cheese, but no packages. No icing sugar, Jell-O, graham crackers or Cool Whip.

I didn't know what to expect. I don't eat any of those things on a regular basis so I didn't know what I could find.

I suppose I could crumble some cookies and use that. Hmm...

I found oatmeal and nachos (not tortilla chips like I wanted, but close enough), so I decided on a menu:

a) Caesar salad
b) Some other salad (I will make special dressings)
c) Nachos and dip
d) Baked nachos
e) Macaroons
f) Maybe cheesecake

While I was walking down the aisle, I glanced at the advertising television that was set up. Ironically, in the middle of a big wave of homesickness, they were showing Just For Laughs. They had that little green monster-thingie running around. I stopped in the middle of the aisle, my mouth hanging open, my eyes like saucers.

The episode was quite funny, kind of Candid Camera-esque, taking place on an escalator outside a Sears store in Montreal.

Immigration

I should open a consulting service for Romanians who want to immigrate to Canada.

I am helping my friend Cornel with finding information about New Brunswick and tonight, I'm meeting Simona, a friend of Cristi's, for a discussion about Canada.

I don't know how good of a spokesperson I am. After all, I've lived in four countries in four years and all my friends are aware of my desperate plan to live permanently in Europe. I love Canada and I'm glad to be Canadian, but I think there's too much of the world out there to live in one place.

Kind of ironic, but I've been to almost every country capital in Europe, Washington DC...and I have yet to visit Ottawa. I have also failed to go more west than Toronto.

Anyways, I like Romanians, and if I can attract more to New Brunswick (instead of Quebec or Ontario), then I will be happy.

Maybe they could even make me zacusca back home. Or finally reveal the secret of Dots.

Canada Day

Canada Day is on Friday.

I am thinking about having a Canada Day party.

Actually, I just want an excuse to cook Canadian foods. And my Romanian friends are always bugging me to cook them Canadian things.

Any ideas for a menu? Bearing in mind that:
a) my oven doesn't work
b) I can't get a lot of ingredients here

I'm thinking of:
* shrimp chowder
* nachos (if I can get nachos)
* some salads (with my special dressings)
* no-bake cheesecake
* pancakes (for the Frenchies)

Unfortunately, the blueberries aren't out yet, so I can't make typical NB desserts. And since my oven doesn't work, no apple crisp (the epitome of New Brunswick-ness).

Does anyone else have some ideas?

Karla's Romanian food obsession #3: Zacusca (or how I learned to stop worrying and love the eggplant)

I love zacusca.

Mushroom zacusca.

Basically a mixture of spiced vegetables, including eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms, garlic and oil.

Yes, eggplant.

I won't touch eggplant with a ten foot pole, but I love this stuff.

Luckily, I didn't know what eggplant was when I first tasted it. Then I looked it up in my dictionary. "Eww!"

I found eggplant-less zacusca (like the one pictured) but it's not the same. I'll eat my three bottles but then it's back to the vinete-ciuoerci zacusca from now on!

Zacusca

Mushroom zacusca

Cipri

Cipri came on Monday night.

It was so nice to see him again! Because of the train strike, he had to hitchhike from Oradea, but found a transport truck willing to take him for 80,000 lei.

We met up at about 21:00. Luckily, there's a taxi stand right across from my apartment. We dropped his stuff off and wandered downtown.

There was a band playing traditional music in Piata Unirii with a light show. The singer was great and the energy was awesome. There were some dancers grooving out in the back, standing on the fountain. They reminded me of the hippies you see twisting around at indie rock shows. And no, they weren't stoned or drunk.

We got some drinks (Timisoareana! The best beer in Romania!) and then headed back to my place to get some sleep.

Unfortunately, the train strike was on the next morning. We called the bus station and there was a bus going to Suceava at 14:00. !@#$ We barely had any time to spend together! We got a quick breakfast and headed to the bus station.

It was a madhouse! Dozens and dozens of people pushing and shouting to get a place on the bus. Why they didn't order more busses is beyond me. It was about 30 degrees and we were dying. Finally, the driver agreed to sell Cipri a seat on the bus. Not a regular seat. He could put a chair in the aisle and use that.

Once the arrangements were made, we checked out the local market. This parket sold pet fish, fishing supplies, ducklings and baby chicks! Crates and crates of little chicks. I got to hold a baby duckling. I love ducks. Especially Peking duck.

We headed back to the bus. It was so hot in the parking lot. The driver let a pretty young girl wearing a short skirt and revealing top get on first and sit down, while everyone else had to wait outside. So much for equality of the sexes.

Thus bus managed to leave on time, so full it was almost bursting at the seams. Cipri didn't get home to Suceava until 9:00 the next morning!

I'm better

I'm much better now.

I'm covered in mosquito bites, but I feel much better.

And as for why I didn't go to the doctor... Go to my December archives and read about my experiences when I went to the women's health clinic.

Anyway, here are some random pictures that were hiding on my digital camera.

Vlad was my first Romanian friend and I'm glad to say I'm seeing a lot more of him now.

Vlad and Paul smoking nargile (how am I ever going to get that home?)

Vlad breakdancing in front of the Opera

Clubbing with Romanians

Cipri and I saying goodbye

Cipri and I in front of the cathedral

Cipri in front of the cathedral

Sick

I'm still sick.

I have no idea what's wrong.

Sunday over a week ago, I started vomiting like crazy (something that never happens, and I chocked it up to a bad bottle of wine I split three ways with some friends).

Monday, I felt slightly better and Tuesday I was still dizzy.

Wesdnesday and Thursday were alright but Friday I started having stomach cramps. They were on and off all weekend and now they're horrible. I'm almost doubled up in pain as I type this (and yes, it's 9:50 pm).

I hate being sick. I have being sick when I'm alone.

Cristi and Fabi are here at the office with me. Fabi says it's due to some bad fruit and told me to eat some dry bread. I haven't eaten fruit today. I ate a bit of pizza this morning with Cipri but that's it. No appetite, nothing.

And I can't even count on getting a decent night's sleep. The church across from my place has bells that ring every fifteen minutes, from 6:00 until 12:00 pm.

Every fifteen minutes!

No wonder I'm sick. I never sleep! And there are always random mosquitos in my apartment now.

Gossip

I think my neighbours think I'm a prostitute.

I know two little old ladies (of the afformentioned "Pussy" episode).

They're always friendly but lately they've been giving me weird looks.

I have lots of male and female friends in the city. Only difference is that I go to see my female friends, and I invite my male friends over.

So far, the ladies have met:
a) Adrian
b) Mischa
c) Nelu
d) Vlad
e) possibly Vlad's friends
f) Cipri
g) Cristi and Fabi

Now they keep giving me weird looks whenever they see me.

Happy Father's Day!

Just wanted to wish my stepfather Peter a happy Father's Day!

See you in two months!

Strike

Cipri from Suceava will be in Oradea tonight/tomorrow and will come visit me in Timisoara before he heads home on Tuesday night.

I am excited.

He was our guide when Melissa and I went to see the Bucovina monasteries last April. We decided to tour around on our own, but met up with an American, Jason, who had booked his tour, and just tagged along. We ended up spending the day together, and he kept in touch with us during the rest of the trip.

Melissa's in Ghana studying African drumming and dance (with a bunch of hairy armpitted West Coast womyn, according to her email) but Cipri and I have stayed in touch and he said he'll come stay with me in Timisoara.

!@#$

Apparently there is a train strike.

Lovely.

I am now changing the title of this post from "Guest" to "Strike".

I was in France two years ago during the huge SNCF train strike. Mom and I were stuck in Avignon (not such a bad thing as Avignon is one of my favourite cities) but Mom was panicking about getting back to Paris. Normally there are something like eighteen trains a day between Paris and Avignon. This got reduced to six.

We went to the station every day (sometimes many times) to ask about tickets. And I became the unofficial translator for all the hysterical American tourists. I relished my important job.

Anyways, back to Romania.

There is a train strike. And it seems there are now no direct trains from Timisoara to Suceava. The website is hillarious though, and it's the only thing that is keeping me from losing my temper right now. I love the overuse of the "blink" tag, not to mention the Flash train running all over the place.

!@#$%^& (now you know I'm really upset)

So they put all the information on the Romanian site, but not the English site. Yes, I can read the Romanian and understand it, but it's the foreigners who also ened to know this information, as we can't always understand everything. Whine whine whine. Ok, I'll try to stop now.

I feel bad for the poor people of Suceava. Only one train from Bucharest. Suceava has to be one of the most isolated cities in Romania. And one of the ugliest too (Lonely Planet be damned, it is *not* "funky and happening").

Hmm...wonder if there's a train from Timisoara to Iasi. In a perfect world, there should be a train between Romania's second largest and fourth largest cities.

I guess not.

Everything is to or from Bucharest (and most people know my thoughts about Bucharest [sorry Bodgan and Dragos!]), with a few trains randomly headed to Mangalia (pop: 40,000). Gotta make sure the vacationers get their Black Sea coast fix.

This sucks.

No trains from Oradea to Timisoara, no trains from Timisoara to Suceava. Cipri said earlier that he will hitchhike, but still...

I know there are maxi taxis from Oradea to here, but I don't know the price or how to get one. I've never even been to Oradea. Strangely enough, Arad has a much larger maxi taxi culture than Timisoara. Last time I was in Arad, I was inundated with requests at the train station to take me to Belgrade, Cluj and Bucharest. In Timisoara, I very rarely see maxi taxis.

Makes me want to go to Arad next time I go to Belgrade...I'm sure a maxi taxi won't take five hours!

I really really hope he can come. I didn't clean my apartment for nothing!

UPENN

So I see UPENN in my stats like 6 times a day. I'm flattered. But also curious.

Who are you?

Rant

I don't do this very often, but here is my latest rant about Romania.

(Maybe this is an isolated incident, but it's still funny).

Things to know before I start my story:
a grilled chicken burger is 40,000 lei
a chicken kebab is 50,000 lei

Only difference is the chicken, one being a breast and the other being chopped up with spices.

I go to my favourite little fast food place in Piata 700 and order a chicken burger. They're 40,000 lei for a bun, sauce, fries and veggies. I don't like cabbage, fries or the bread, so I get them to stick it in a bag, and still charge me 40,000 lei.

So the girl is grilling my chicken and we're chatting away. She has excellent English and she's absolutely adorable. She's also helping another customer, who wants a chicken kebab on a pita.

"Pitas? When did you get pitas?"
"Not long ago"
"How much are they?"
"50,000"
"Oooooh"

"If I give you an extra 10,000 lei, can I have my chicken on the pita instead of the bun?"
"Let me check with my supervisor"

The supervisor on duty was not the owner. The owner has a huge crush on me. He doesn't speak a word of English, but we get by in half Romanian, half Italian. He's always telling me how much I like my eyes, and every conversation results in him asking:
a) how old I am (24)
b) if I'm single (debatable)
c) if I like Romania (yes)
d) how long I plan on staying (August 12)

So the girl comes back and says that if I want my chicken on the pita, I have to pay 50,000. An extra 50,000.

"That makes no sense! Chicken kebab on a bun costs 50,000. Chicken kebab on a pita costs 50,000. Chicken breast on a bun costs 40,000. Technically, it should cost 40,000 on a pita as well. Why can't she charge me 50,000 to have it on a pita?"

*thinking: "I mean, you guys make money off me anyways because I don't take the bun, filling or sauces, so what's the big deal?"*

Is this a Romanian thing ("No changes *at all*) or just a store's policy?

So of course, I spent all day Saturday dreaming about kebab. I got some money Saturday night and I could not wait until Sunday morning.

It wasn't until I got there that I realised that it's closed on Sunday.

Weekend

Ended up speinding a lot of time hanging out in Piata Victoriei this weekend, just people watching. I have no idea how those Romanian girls can prance about in high heels. I wear high heels for five minutes in my apartment and my feet are killing me. Have these girls genetically adapted to high heels? Do they have higher foot arches? Extra padding? Please explain.

I'm sticking to my nice American Eagle flip flops. I don't care that I keep getting weird looks (why does everyone stare at your feet here before looking at your face here? And no, I'm not the only foreigner who's noticed this).

The glue sniffers are out in full force. A lot of them are trying to hide it, carrying around a dirty bag that looks like a distended scrotum, but when you see them a few minutes later, their sleeve is hanging straight down and empty while their head is half submerged in their sweater.

I went for another walk at night. I loitered around Lemon Bar's amazing outdoor patio because I have a secret crush on the singer. He has such a beautiful voice. I walked back and forth on Alba Iulia street I don't know how many times in an excuse to hear him sing. He belted out all the early 90 classics that are the mainstays of any just-starting-out garage band. I sang along in my head.

I wandered to Piata Opera and sat on the bench thingies they have there and listened to an animated argument/discussion in Italian. My Italian is decent, so I could follow along, although for some reason, the woman whipped out a condom and started waving it in the man's face. I know lots of dirty things in Italian, but didn't hear anything remotely sexcual being discussed before that happened. They wandered off.

I walked by the restaurants, trying to see how much English I could hear. I heard two men speaking, although it was accented, so I know they weren't native speakers. Otherwise, the Italians were out in full force. I think there are more Italians here than in Rome (because when I was in Rome, all I heard was English).

On my way home, I heard the strains of Activ from a disco close to my apartment. I wasn't exactly dressed up to go dancing, but wandered downstairs to see what was going on. I don't even know the name of the place. It's on Str. Delamarina. I thought it was a Serbian turbo folk bar for the longest time, but I guess it's a Romanian pop bar. Had I been dressed better, I would have stayed.

And now it's Sunday. I got paid yesterday and spent my morning at Billa stocking up on groceries (ie- caviar and imported Italian cheeses). No, seriously. I've been craving caviar since I came back from Sweden, and I want to make another Midsommar meal on the 21st here, so I'll try to save it until then.

Went to the market and got tonnes of strawberries and cherries (yes, I am so milking the cherry thing for all its worth while they're in season). Went to buy a zucchini from my usual lady at the market, but she told me they were no good. She told me to wait a minute, then she led me over to another table that had better zucchinis. I love the market.

I'm still not completely cured. I have no idea what's wrong with me. Last Sunday I got very sick (to the point where had they been filming me, I could have made a lot of money in the fetish porn industry) and this week, my stomach's been all weird. I'm sleeping better, my appetite is back, still don't have much energy, but I think I'll live after all.

Tonight, we're going to the outdoor theatre to watch "Duplex". I hope it's good. It's windy, so hopefully it'll keep the mosquitos away.

For Peter and Tucike

Exploitation

I love exploiting my foreign-ness.

I have approximately 4000 lei to my name right now.

And no, just because it has extra zeros does not make it a lot of money. I euro is 36,000 lei. I have 4000 lei.

So I'm living on vegetables and soup mix right now. This suits me just fine because I'm sick with the flu (again) and nothing will stay down. Don't worry, I'll change some money tomorrow and will eat something decent.

So I was at the market, trying to buy some carrots for the vegetable soup I'm going to make tonight. I pointed to the carrots and said "patru" ("four").

"Four kilograms?"
"No...four carrots"
"We don't sell individual carrots"
"Oh"
*I look at the carrot seller mournfully*
"What the heck. Four you said?"
"How about five?"
"Sure!"

While he's weighing my carrots, his friend tells me we have the same eyes. He has bright blue eyes, mine are very pale green. I point this out to him (narrowly saying that my eyes are actually yellow, because I mix up my colours all the time).

People here comment on my eyes a lot. He asks if I'm Greek. (Everyone seems to think I'm Greek here). "No, Canadian." "Canadian? Don't go! Wait here!"

So the other man hands me my five beloved carrots and I'm waiting for I don't know what. The man returns holding a tiny stuffed kangaroo wearing an "I <3 Australia" jacket, dangling from a suction cup.

"Australia!" I say
"Yes!"
"I'm not Australian, I'm Canadian"
He gives me a funny look
"Eu iubesc Australia" I translate from the kangaroo's jacket.

"Do you like it?" he asks me
"Sure, I like it!"
"It's for you!"

I now have a tiny kangaroo dangling from my computer monitor.

And purely for curiosity's sake, who are all these UPENN people reading the site? Are you the same person or different people? You make my stats go up. This is good. Thanks for reading!

Anti-gypsy music virus welcomes by victims

From Znet...

Romanian security firm BitDefender has revealed that after releasing signatures to protect its customers from a virus that deleted files from their computers containing gypsy music, it was inundated with letters of complaint from customers who wanted the virus to spread.

The virus, dubbed Antiman.A, was discovered at the end of April and duped users into executing its payload by pretending to contain news about three Romanian journalists that had been kidnapped. When run, the virus searched the victim's computer for files containing the names of Romanian gypsy music singers.

At the time, BitDefender's chief technology officer Bogdan Dumitru said the virus writer was obviously a Romanian citizen that had "deep discontent" with gypsy music in Romania.

A Bitdefender spokesperson told ZDNet Australia that it released signature files to protect customers within hours of discovering the virus but instead of praise, the company started receiving e-mails from users that thought the virus was 'socially useful' and should be allowed to thrive.

One customer, whose details have withheld, said: "I appreciate your rapid reaction when new viruses are released… Nevertheless, when socially useful viruses are released, I think you could wait at least one day… This is not a virus, this is a utilitarian tool". The message concluded: "If you know the author of this virus, please give him my e-mail address; I'm ready to offer him food and drinks for at least 2 weeks".

Another customer was also hoping detection signatures were delayed but he went on to wish for a variant that could attack legacy systems: "Couldn't you guys wait two or three more days, until my whole neighbourhood was infected? Is there a version of this virus that can erase the cassettes played in cars that are stopped in traffic?"

Last word went to a BitDefender customer that offered to keep the antivirus labs staff busy to try give the virus more time to spread: "I would have gotten all of you drunk just to make sure you didn't get the [detection] tool out… god bless the guy who created this virus."

Ding dong

My doorbell rang as I was leaving for work. I ignored it.

It rang again a few minutes later. I went to answer the door.

A man holding a clipboard was there and started speaking Romanian at me at 100 km an hour. The only word I was able to make out was "scaune" (chair). Then he said "scaune, bucaterie" which I know means "chair, kitchen". Did he want the chair in my kitchen? Should I invite him inside? Did he used to live here and forget something? Could those condom wrappers belong to...ewww...him?

I gave him my patented "dumb tourist" look. He still kept talking. I told him I didn't speak much Romanian. Did that make him slow down? No, of course not.

I figure out he wants to check my gas or something. And he still wants that damn chair. I show him the kitchen chair, but no, he doesn't want it. He wants a different chair. I still can't figure out why. He follows me inside and wants the red stool in my kitchen. Ok, good enough. I hand it to him.

He asks if I have "papers". Another dumb tourist look follows. "Paper. PAPER!" I threw out a tonne of stuff left over from the previous tenants but don't think I found anything he wanted.

Luckily, my neighbour came by. "She doesn't speak Romanian!" "I know!" "Then why are you bothering her? Why didn't you find someone else?"

There is nothing like getting bitched at by an old lady. My neighbours are great.

I lived in my apartment in Bucovina for seven months and didn't meet a single neigbour. I live in this apartment for two weeks and everyone knows me as "the Canadian".

Living in Piata 700 is almost like being in residence again. Everyone smiles and says hello. People stop and talk in the halls, commenting on pets, new plants and grandchildren. It's a great atmosphere!

More perverted cat names

The other cat on my floor is named "Poupie".

So Pussy and Poopy.

My neighbours are perverts.

I can't wait to meet the parakeets "Pipi" and "Boubie" (or "peepee" and "boobie").

Incidentally, I'm becoming quite familiar with the animals in my apartment. There's Lolita ("Lola") the dog on the main floor, who always comes up to be patted whenever she seems me. She's a scruffy, mangy looking thing, but who can argue with a warm wet tongue?

Guess I'm the pervert now.

There are some poodles on the fourth floor. I don't like poodles as a general rule and these ones are no different. The white one seems to have a permanent erection and I'm just waiting for it to try to hump the brown one. It also makes me realise how used I am to seeing neutered dogs. Dog testicles make me giggle like a schoolgirl, and since nearly every male dog is neutered at home, it's been a while since I saw a "true" male dog.

There are a pair of cats on the second floor. These cats are pure evil. I'm not a cat person and these make me hate cats even more. Skinny, dirty white with grey patches, big pointed ears, these are Satan cats, if there was such a thing. Not only will they not let me pet them, but they meow and howl all the time.

I like affectionate cats, not antisocial cats who spend their days on the windowsill, miaowing at me when I walk past.

The mother cat recently gave birth to kittens. Whenever I come down the stairs, the cats glare at me. I glare back. Sometimes, depending on my mood, I will stare at them for a minute or two to unleash the full extent of my wrath towards these beasts.

Speaking of animals, I paid a visit to my former neighbours in Bucovina. Apparently, there's been a series of dog killings in the past few months. A neighbourhood dog was found decapitated. I asked who could do such a thing. No one knows. I suggested Satanists, and they immediately agreed with me, saying that Satanists had killed these dogs. As a joke, I suggested the Roma doing it, just to see what they would answer. "Yes, it's definitely the gypsies. Satanic gypsies are killing the dogs!"

Sorry

Sorry I'm not blogging very much lately. Going through a little difficult time.

I'm slightly homesick right now, among other things. Haven't been sleeping well, lost two kilograms this past week because I have no appetite, stressed, etc etc.

My friends are great though, and I'm realising more every day how difficult it is going to be to leave them in a little more than two months.

Apartment

Here are the apartment pictures I promised. The apartment is actually a lot bigger than it looks. I "Karla-ised" it with souvenirs that I got in Turkey, Sweden and Romania.

And yes, I love glassware.

Old Swedish advertisements on the kitchen wall

View out sunroom window

Bed

Alternate view

View out my window

I love these bottles...I got them for 5000 lei each at the market

Flowers

Sunroom

Kitchen/sunroom

Kitchen

Obligatory Orthodox calendar

Bathroom

Entryway

Sitting area

Window

Dance recital

Two weeks ago, they had a children's dance recital in Piata Unirii. I saw Sandu, the teacher with whom I worked from CNB ([local high school] locals will know what I mean) in the crowd. His daughter was performing and she looked absolutely beautiful.

I asked if the costumes were hand-made family originals, but no, they were rented.

I loved the perfomance. We don't have anything like this at home. We can take hip hop dance, highland dance and ballet (although I doubt groups of French people dress up in traditional costumes to dance the ballet with each other). I wish good old New Brunswick had traditional dances (maybe the Acadians do, but I'm not sure). Cristi told me that he knows traditional dances and Nelu even demonstrated some for us.