Eurojournal - 27 July 2006 (roadtrip-Peles castle, on the way to Black Sea)

Today we drove to the Black Sea. It was going to be a long drive so we stopped at Peles castle on the way in Sinaia. We skipped the touristy Dracula castle (it’s not the REAL Vlad Tepes castle!) in favor of going to Peles which we read was much nicer. It was a very pretty castle and fairly new (built in the 1800’s). Byron was pretty disappointed that it was so new. He felt it wasn’t as authentic as the ones he had seen that were over 700 years old. Peles castle was the first to have electricity and housed King Carol I, the first king of Romania. We ate in a great little ski village, another place we could order off the menu.

I had this intense experience at this restaurant. I am reflecting on my own internal conflicts around class, social justice, privilege, race, and my observations in this country. The levels of poverty are different than at home and distinctions less clear. In the village people are much poorer than in CA but most have property and are well fed. Our table at the restaurant was outside on a deck. Next to the rail was the sidewalk which was about 5 feet below us. A man approached me from below the deck and spoke at me in perhaps Romanian. He was dark, there was an intensity in his eyes. An intensity which brought fear over me. A fear where I felt the need to protect myself and family. It was almost like he was reciting something like scriptures, not the same as talking or asking for food or money. I looked up at James who was sitting across from me and told him what was happening. I looked back down and the man was still looking directly at me talking. I said “nu” (no in Romanian) and motioned for him to go away. He stayed. I ignored him. He left. We watched him walk down the street. What was he saying? Maybe he was just asking for money or food. In that case I could have given it to him. Am I too privileged to recognize that? I am too removed where I fear the poor instead of feel compassion? I know when I moved away form San Francisco I became less connected with the homeless in the city. When I lived there, I would sit and have conversations with people who were homeless. I had no fear. I saw them as people. When I would return to SF from home, I became more and more fearful. Am I like that here? But there was something different about his man. Or I am making excuses for my reaction?

After dinner we drove to the Black Sea. Oh these drivers are crazy! Like I mentioned everyone passes, even on small roads, even when there is an oncoming car. The oncoming car just moves over. It’s insane. I got the hang of it after a while and passed like any other Romanian … but in a monstrous van. There are horses and carriages on the road. The roads are so small that we have to pass to get anywhere. Every trip takes along long time. In the US 50 km should only take about 30 minutes but here it is more like an hour or more. We arrived at the Black Sea around midnight. The towns looked like Las Vegas. It was surreal. Surely there must be a LaSalsa somewhere here! Yep, still craving that burrito. We found a campground and spent two hours setting up the tent Csaba loaned us. Everywhere along this patch of coast is like one big party. Our campground is about a 2 minute walk to the beach which is why we chose it. But there was dance club with loud music. We didn’t care. We were too tired.




Peles castle pics (more to come on next blog entry)