Maramures

Maramures was wonderful.

It completely lives up to the hype.

After visiting Sighet, we drove to a pension in a small village and had a rest. A local girl was getting married and even though we were foreigners, we were still invited!

Again, I didn't know what to expect. Maramures women all wear headscarves and kerchiefs. I didn't think any of my disco clothing would make a good impression on the locals, but I don't have anything really suitable for a traditional wedding, so I put on a long skirt and a black sweater. It was about 30 degrees outside.

When we got to the wedding gathering, there was already about 50 people sitting in a circle, with the wedding party at the head. The father-in-law is a famous traditional singer. The woman were all wearing short skirts, headscarves and high heeled shoes that looked more like what a 20 year old would wear to a bar than what a 50 year old would wear to a wedding.

We were immediately offered shots of tsuica. Angel refused but I took one. Then came the plates of sarmale. I'm not a fan of sarmale but these made me change my mind. Greasy but delicious! Then came plates of sweets.

There was a traditional band, wearing traditional costumes and playing traditional music. A little boy kept in time with the violin.

It was a wonderful, special afternoon. If I ever get married, I would want a reception like this. Intimate, close and lots of food!

Later, we went back to the pension to eat dinner. I got changed for the banquet. I decided to dress up a little. So much, in fact, that our driver didn't recognise me.

Outside the church, we met three Romanian ladies. They were amazing! We chatted with them for almost half an hour, even though I only understood about half of what they said.

We got in the car and drove to the banquet hall. Unfortunately, the car broke down on the way and we had to push and maneuver it. In the rain. I found the humour in it.

The banquet hall was full of people. Angel, Cipri and I sat down and were given fresh shots of tuica and soon, plates of meat. Not to mention the plates of sweets sitting on the tables.

After everyone had eaten and drank, the dancing started. A man sitting by me took a liking to me and asked me to dance. I accepted, and he spoke great French.

I didn't know any of the steps, but he taught me.

Now I know why the Romanians all dance salsa in unison: it comes from traditional Romanian dances.

We changed steps so frequently I couldn't keep up. I could barely find the beat! Everyone else on the dance floor new the steps perfectly though. Stamping, twirling, back and forth... I have no idea how anyone could keep up, much less remember all the steps. And it wasn't just one dance too. Every dance has it's own pattern! After one dance, I was exhausted!

Next we did a circle dance. There was only one step so it was easy for me to follow. Left foot back, right foot forward. First it was just the wedding party, but then the rest of the people joined in. Soon we had two circles, outside and in. My new friend dragged me up and tried to get a little too close for comfort during the dance. Cipri gave him a talking-to when we all sat back down.

We left at midnight. The rain started and we had a long day ahead of us.