Gypsies, Garlic, and Hitchhiking: Romania - Oradea and the Countryside

Black Eagle Palace

The river, very nice! 

Black Eagle Palace Arcade

Romania, Romania, Romania…I have so much to say about you.  Two days and I feel like I know you.  I have to say, my experience was probably a bit out of the ordinary and it was quite the adventure…but that doesn’t change the fact that I hate you and love you (a little bit). 

First act of rebellion in Romania: steal the TP

Our saga together begins before I got off the train.  The woman sitting across from me kept giving me sympathetic smiles every time the border police took my passport away from me to get stamped (they had to shut off the train every time, but yay stamps!).  Finally she mumbled something and we began to talk, I asked her where she was going and turns out she was from my destination, Oradea.  She was surprised that I would be visiting Oradea of all places, especially alone. I don’t know if I would have left the train station without her.  First of all, they hadn’t announced stops, so I would have stayed on the train past the station, and second of all…I was taken aback immediately by how dirty and backwards the city seemed.  

I call this one: "Man with Casual Axe"

Right away I knew I was going to have some issues.  Dorothy was not in Western (or Central) Europe anymore.  The woman, Andrea, brought me to a cab and looked at my list of hostels/hotels, and discussed my options with the cab driver.  Turns out that on my list of the 3 most reasonably priced options, two didn’t exist—way to go Romanian businesses on updating your websites!  They brought me to Hotel Transit—far on the opposite end of the city, in the outskirts of the South End of town.  Andrea came into the hotel with me and negotiated with the lady at the front desk (she looked like a vamp and had a midget finger-growth coming out of her right pointer finger…I couldn’t stop staring—I’ll call her Madam Vamp).  Andrea gave me her number, paid for my cab fare, and left me with comforting parting words.  And that was it; I was on my own again.

Cash money

After settling into my room, I set out to get cash.  Cash rules, always.  In the time it took me to walk 10 minutes down the road to the nearest store, five cars pulled over.  In these cars were middle aged men—they all rolled down their windows and asked me a question—only God knows what.  I was also honked at a countless number of times by truckers.  By this point, I was extremely overwhelmed and on the verge of tears.  By the time I got back to the hotel, the attention I was attracting was near comical.  Madam Vamp called a taxi for me upon my return to take me into the heart of Oradea.  I was hoping that things would turn around.  And so they did.  I came to find that nearly everything in Romania is dirt-cheap.  I could have gotten anything I liked for less than 12 lei ($4). 

Republicii

Beautiful art on the walls of the Hypnosse Cafe

The first thing I did was finding the famous “Republicii St,” and walked on the cobblestones until I found a coffee shop that appealed to me.  From the outside I could see the artwork on the walls: it was so colorful and beautiful, how could I resist?  I sat down and ordered myself an Irish coffee.  That drink was one of the first good decisions I made of the day!  Not only did it calm my nerves, but it was also warm and reminded me that I’m an adult and stronger than I think.  Despite my doubts, I could do this.

The Irish coffee
 that changed everything!

I got directions to see the famed fortress—I made my way over there and was surprised to find that I was the only person in sight.  I was essentially walking around a junkyard; it did not look like any of the beautiful pictures I had seen.  Within 20 minutes of exploring, a construction worker came out of nowhere and chased me out!  After that experience, I walked for hours exploring different crevices of the city.  I saw the nice areas and I saw the slums, all of it was foreign and interesting to me.  During my walk, I officially decided that Eastern Europe is not my cup of tea.  I saw some beautiful building and sites, but I also saw exactly the opposite.  Despite this confusing experience, I’m not opposed to coming back under different circumstances one day.  

Sign I saw after getting kicked out...I'm guessing this means
something along the lines of "get the hell outta here"

I definitely stood out in Oradea.  I was the only natural redhead (that I saw) and the only freckled face.  It was more than that though: these people have a somber attitude and different way of carrying themselves than I do.  I think the way I walk is somewhat happy, somewhat like a little gait of joy…especially when I travel.  Romanians seem to carry themselves with great seriousness, which is funny to see when you juxtapose that with their sense of style: consider the citizens of Oradea Ed Hardy’s #1 fans.  Can you say (fake) bling-bling?  They also really, really, really like tracksuits.  And middle-aged to elderly ladies don’t go out without the requisite headscarf. 

Day 1 was extremely eye opening to me as to show how different cultures are.  Here I was, only 8 miles over the Hungarian border, but the differences were so vast that I was in shock.  On Monday, for the first time as a woman, I truly felt like an “object,” and for one of the first times in my life, felt vulnerable by the very looks that I was receiving.  I found that I am more resilient and street smart than I could have guessed, and I also found that if I am relaxed, I can maintain a very interesting inner monologue—I managed to make myself laugh on several occasions.  I think that life is better when you find yourself interesting. 

Romanian Bus Station: privately owned busses
with paper signs telling you where the driver goes and when.
Sketchy.

Passengers.

Life only got more interesting on Day 2.  I woke up super early to get a jump on the day.  My goal was to visit Pestera Ursilor, or Bears Cave (see here), which would take me into the countryside.  After a delicious breakfast at the hotel, I got a taxi to the Autobus Station.  On the way, my taxi driver pretty much told me I would get lost, and that it would make more sense to take a taxi all the way there.  I thought he was trying to swindle me, so I paid him and set off on my mission.  After finding the short-bus/van labeled “Oradea-Pietroasa,” I took a seat and settled in for the ride.  Not five minutes into the trip and I already felt like I could breathe.  There is almost zero development outside the city, which turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

A home

Village church...beautiful colors! 

One of the bus stops I saw on my walk back.
A quality structure.

I quickly noticed that the bus driver was not announcing stops, and that both stops and villages were not labeled (with the rare exception).  The people on the bus with me were clearly people from the countryside who knew exactly where they needed to be.  I kept waiting and waiting for any sign of the stop that I was looking for, and it never came.  I decided to consider this a little bus tour of the countryside, and when the bus driver stopped, I would tell him that I wanted to pay for a return trip as well.  Well.  We finally arrived at the last stop, about 85 km away from the city, in a small village called Pietroasa.  We were so far away from civilization that it was not unusual to see a horse-drawn carriage.  I felt like I had entered the set of Fiddler on the Roof.  If I thought I was out of place in the city, it was only because I had not been to the countryside. 

Carpathian Mountains

Walking in the beautiful countryside

The bus driver told me that he would be making the drive back in “2 or 3 hours.”  He dismissed me at that point, giving up on me, and gave me walking directions toward the Bears Cave.  I would need to walk about 5 km, make a left, and walk 10 km up to the mountains.  The scenery around me was absolutely breathtaking, and the air was fresh.  Being lost in the countryside was the happiest I had been in Romania thus far.  Isn’t it strange, the things we take joy in?  After getting lost on the bus, I figured I wouldn’t take my chances on foot.  I not only had a train to catch, but I was not about to walk that far.  I’m not insane.  I started off in the direction I came, and walked for about 2 km before deciding to try my luck at hitching a ride back to Beius—the largest village I had seen.

My Irish luck proved to hold up, and a man stopped shortly thereafter.  We communicated in a strange way: I used the little Italian that I remembered, saying “Vorrei andare al Beius o Oradea” (“I would like to go to Beius or Oradea”).  He spoke to me in Romanian, saying “Beius, da.”  I hopped in.  We tried to talk, but my interpretation of Romanian and his of my Italian/English got lost in the shuffle.  On the way to Beius, the man made a call…thinking the worst, I got a little nervous, but he turned to be a really generous guy.  Apparently, he had called one of his friends, Bela, who could bring me back to Oradea.  Putting trust in people I didn’t know, and couldn’t understand was hard for someone like me, but it was my only option. 

Thumbs up and out.  Decision to hitch.

Bela was a crazy guy.  I saw the speedometer go past 100 km on these winding, country back roads, but it didn’t seem to faze him at all.  He spoke French to my Italian.  I think he was impressed when I asked him “Parli tu l’italiano?” (“Do you speak Italian?”).  Again, our words got lost in the shuffle, but it didn’t matter to me.  I was happy as a clam in his car.  He played an American radio station while I danced and sang to the music—I was on my way back to Oradea, baby!! And I was alive!

I gave Bela money for going so far out of his way for me.  The people of the countryside surprised me with their generosity and kindness.  They didn’t have much to offer, but they did whatever they could to help me.  I think it’s a huge lesson that I took away from this.  People will surprise you: there are good, intelligent, kind, and honest to you when you least expect it.  I surprised myself, too.  Being in such a situation, I felt that I thrived.  I took chances, I faced my problem head on, and it felt good.  The countryside was refreshing in several ways.  While almost nothing went right, it was the best learning experience I’ve had in a while.

Picture with Bela back in Oradea!

The park! 

In Oradea, I decided to find a quiet spot in the park and spend the afternoon reading before I caught my train.  I had seen the sights, but now I felt it was time to relax and enjoy the solitude in a beautiful setting.  The afternoon was for the most part relaxing, the only disruptions to my peace were gypsy children and mothers who heckled and yelled at me in several languages for not giving them food or money.  I understand that their culture is a culture of begging, but how can anyone be proud that they teach their children to beg instead of giving them an education or a life?  I know understand the Hungarian distaste for gypsies.  They are annoying, dirty, smelly, and I did not feel guilty about turning them down.  I wanted to read, and I wanted to go back to Budapest.

Solo trip over. 

What an experience, one that I’ll always look back to as an adventure and learning experience.  I learned about people, I learned how to travel better, I learned about myself. 

Live and Learn.

P.S.  Jeremy, I brought the garlic.  Best decision of my life.  Kept all the vamps away.