A Trip to the Village

This was not the first time I had been out to Hasmas to see Jimmy. I had lost track of the amount of times I had randomly decided to hop on the bus to get out of the city. So most of the 300 people recognized if didn't know exactly who I was, a friend of Domnul Jimmy the American English teacher was enough of an identifier.

Since I had been out a few times I have been able to cultivate a relationship with a family Jimmy spends alot of time with. Alin and Lili and their two kids Carmen (4) and Raul (2) and the grandmother known affectionately as Baba Tuta.

It's a slower pace out in the countryside, on a walk to the park with Lili and the kids everyone was gathering for a rare chance of seeing a bridal party march through the town and to the one large room suitable for a reception that will last until dawn. While waiting Carmen and I played games ( its tricky as all get out trying to play animal charades with a four year old in Romanian by the way) and ran around the swings, Raul caused the mischief that two year old boys do, and the older women sat on the benches maintaining a running commentary just like sports announcers. But I more than once while being trying desperately to remember what a horse is called stopped and looked around at the community that is a small village like this. Sure there are teenagers on cell phones and satellite dishes on the ONE three level bloc but its not that far a stretch to imagine that life has been moving on like this for centuries. My love for Hasmas infinately swelled when Baba Tuta let me climb into the corn bin to remove the kernals to feed the chickens from a bucket and stack the husks to make fire for hot water in the bathroom. "Facem chocoloi!" was the motto. Jimmy was definately better but I held my own for a first timer though nowhere near as gracefully or swiftly as Tuta.

Thank you Romania for allowing a place like this to exist just an hour outside the bustling metropolis that is Arad.