Romania: Reexamined

Sometimes, I astound myself. It is 1:23 am as I'm beginning this. I have oodles of school to do, an alarm set for quarter to six, and about a million hours of work to do tomorrow. And yet, here am I, cleaning my nails of wedding polish (can you say ew?) and...blogging. BUT! I promised. About the blogging, not the polish removal. Though I wish someone would hold me accountable for that too sometimes...another story.

So mostly-non-existent readership, permit me to do some more Romania talk. Would you believe it--since I last wrote, I have become the proud owner of transatlantic plane tickets with British Airways to--would you believe this too--Bucharest. I'm here not to defend my plans exactly--no one is being accusatory or anything--but rather to explain some more I guess?

The truth is, I don't really know what I'm doing anymore than anyone else can see. To a lot of people, this probably looks like either a) a crazy, ill-planned adventure for a stir-crazy fool, or b) an ill-planned ploy to--and it pains me to even acknowledge this really--catch a husband. I'll go with a) first.

This does seem crazy. I spent two weeks some place, and all of a sudden it's everything, and I go out of my way to spend a bunch of money and time getting back. To everyone, and even to most of me, that seems ridiculous, and foolish, and crazy. But the other part of me, and probably no one else, knows that this is supposed to be happening. The Lord has been very, very clear with me about this. I am meant to get on that plane, and go see those people. I don't mean to sound all extra in tune spiritually, but the Lord and I are friends. Why shouldn't He tell me stuff? And one thing He has told me is to go back to Romania.

I left Romania thinking dually, 1. I need to get back to that place! and 2. everyone says that, and much less than everyone actually follows through. This is not to say boo on everyone who has only been once--not at all. Going at all is a great sacrifice, and a wonderful service. And I fully understand that there are reasons people can't always return. And maybe the Lord wouldn't have them to! He tells us all different stuff--duh. But coming home, I felt Him very clearly telling me, it doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to go, and make connections, and be touched by people, and then never see them again until you're together in glory. You don't have to ignore what you feel for them. You can take that love, and live it, in this case, by making a crazy-looking, out of the blue trip just to visit. I mean, I don't expect to be any great, huge help, and I don't flatter myself thinking that I'm going to be some wondrous encouragement. But I do know this: that it means a lot to them to have visitors, and it means a lot to me to be with them.

So as wild and nonsensical as it seems, I'm just trying to be obedient. It's not hard when I'm loving the idea. :) And oh boy, the second one's a doozy. The (dun, dun, DUN) marriage one. Ipes. This is the thing people who don't even bother to consider the crazy part. They just see girls going to a place where there are boys, and it equals someone wants to marry (I say marry, because dating is basically a non-anything for my kind of Romanians)

Okay, first of all, I am not even 22. There is no reason to pull out the stops and be a husband hunter right now. 22 is not supposed to be an age of desperation, and I refuse to treat it as such. Not every move I make is made as the means to a marital end. But that is a whole other blog post, my friends.

And as much as I understand the curiousity--I'd probably say the same thing if I weren't me--I almost a little bit resent the implication. Part of what drew me to the trip was the fact that in the past, so many of the Romanian-returns have been because of romantical possibilities. They were I think all on the d-l, but very few have returned to Romania without some ulterior motive involving, ahem, marital bliss, if even on a superly distant horizon. And maybe this is silly, but to me, realizing that was like a punch in the gut somehow.

How is it that only romantic prospects have been able to draw any number of people back to Romania? Like I don't want it to sound like I'm trying to be all heroic, and exemplary because I shelled out for a plane ticket even without a possible husband lying in wait. But one of the reasons I was so happy to plan to go back is I wanted to say, Look Romanians! You're enough! Even you minus the engagement ring! (except my kind of Romanians don't wear engagement rings, but you get the picture) I just kind of wanted somebody to break the mold and be able to go just for the sake of friendship and brotherhood in Christ. And also, to show future Romania travelers, or even past ones, that it doesn't have to be a "once-in-a-lifetime adventure!" (ugh, it bothers me a lot when people refer to it as such--there are people there, and Romania is their home and reality, not just our virtuous-summer-vacation hotspot), and that you really can go back! There's no rule that says you can only visit Romania if you're scoping out spousal applicants. It's not as if I'm the first one ("we," my traveling friend included), but it's just something I feel strongly about.

That having been said, I have to say something too, in order to fulfill my original obligation. This post was to put at ease the mind of friends, a specific one in particular. I already said this, at least to this friend :), but I have no plans to move to Romania. I have no plans to move anywhere. But I will be honest and say, if something came up and there were an opportunity or reason to move to Romania, I would absolutely pray seriously about it, and have no problem saying yes if I felt like it was the Lord's mind. But at the same time, I would say the exact same thing if the place in question was, say, California. Or Pennsylvania. Or Rockford for pity's sake.

Like I said, I have no plans to move to Romania. and I would be extremely surprised if that's what the Lord had for me. But the reality of the situation is, if it won't be Romania, it'll be someplace else. I have no delusions that I will somehow end up living in this area--the very likely truth is that I will live somewhere that isn't here, and probably somewhere at least vaguely far from here. That said, I have no plans to move away from here at all, not yet. Who knows what He has in the future, but for now, I am firmly planted. And even if I had to be firmly planted across oceans, or just across state lines, I would still be me, and my friends, you would still be you, and I would still love you and talk to you and what not. Our faces would just be farther away, that's all. :)

I'm not sure what all else there is to be said in the way of reassurance, but what I do know is that I have to get up in about 4 hours to take my g-ma to the airport. Goody. My sincere apologies for such a boring, self-centered, self-righteous, not funny blogpost. I hate blogs that aren't funny. Blech. Anyhow, I hate four hours of sleep even more, so I'm going to try and make it slightly over. Good night to allllll....

România frumos...

I just wanted to quick post a picture, number 1 to see if I could, and number 2 to have a picture of my beloved on my blog. : ) I am obsessed, I wasn't lying. : )

Te iubesc, România...

saturday nights...

Saturday nights are meant to be spent hanging out with people and stuff. Not doing school! Blech! It's my own fault; that's what online school does to a gal. Makes her wait til the weekend to do school? Wait--what? Why would anyone do that? Because I'm stupid and busy all week! Boo. That's why.

I'm just whining because I told myself I couldn't go to bed until ALL of my schoolwork for the week was done (it's due tomorrow at midnight, but I like Lord's day empty), and I still have like tons of work to do. So I'm blogging instead of doing it! I'm smart. Really. I am.

This is pointless, I'm ridiculous, must do school. ugh. and to think I was sooo excited for it! haha...

Hai, get writing!

Ahhhh, how good it is to be back. I miss this. So much. But Life! It's so busy! It's hard.

I'm on my first official semester as a DECLARED (!) English major (the bells in my heart are a-ringing...), which is marvelous, but time consuming. And it's like for real college now! Haha. I'm taking a sociolinguistics class. It makes me feel smart to say, but stupid because it's hard. : ) The rest of school is pretty easy, but also mostly boring: computer classes (2, ugh), a library class, and research writing class. Sorry guys, not my things.

And the wedding went off without a hitch. Old Lady Rachel really is an old married lady, haha. Good times.

And the other major summer event in my world: ah Romania. This will mayhap seem off the subject, but believe me, it's not. I have to explain something. This is how I am: I get obsessions. I've been this way since I was a wee lass. I live in a world of superlatives basically. If I like something, I LOVE it. If I dislike something, I can't STAND it. It's me. Whatever. But so I've always been particularly susceptible to long, hard, obsessions. In my earlier days, it was boy bands and I don't know, tv shows maybe?

These days it's more...entire countries (and still boy bands) (but not really) (but sort of still yes haha). I say it like it's happened a million times, and like it has only to do with the physical country, but there's more to it than that. I had a baby obsession in Canada (I know, can you believe it?) when I started to have friends from there. But my first big one was England. Oh lands, am I ever an anglophile. Oooooh lands. You've never seen such an one. I went with school one year and loved it, but then went again two years later and LOVED it even more, having experienced what it was like to actually be with (and beFRIEND) some locals. And the obsession continued.

And yet. I think my anglo-obsession has been dethroned (audible gasps from...no one.), and who by, but a little unassuming EU underdog...yes, I mean Romania! Land of ciorba, Dracula, and uh, other -uh stuff. It was...perfect. I can't think of other words. And it will seem an obsession--and it is, really, but not in a bad way. But the obsession doesn't really have much to do with the actual land--though that land is spectacular and unmatched in my opinion--but just in the way that land is connected to those people. I have no idea how, but after a week and a half, every single one of them just...I don't know how to say it without sounding cheesy and Hallmark-ish. In such a short time, they got worked so well into my heart that it hurt to leave. Every single person. Even people I barely said words to. And it's funny, because I said words to almost everyone, even to those who couldn't understand them. : )

I don't want it to come off like I'm obsessed with Romania because...the hiking was incredible (which it was), or because the mountains were SO beautiful (which they were), or because there were SO MANY watermelons (which there were teehee). All those things are true, but I'm obsessed with Romania because somehow, I LOVE those people. Boys and girls, young and old, happy and a little moody haha. There's not one person I met there that wasn't incredibly kind and welcoming to me, and not one person whose face I don't miss.

I just feel such an incredible tug towards that place. I had never planned on going before, but the invite came and I thought, Well Lord, didn't think this was ever happening, but shall we give it a shot? He said yes, and I've been a goner ever since. I've spent every waking (and sleeping! haha) moment thinking about Romania, and I'm pretty sure I'll be spending every penny I've got trying to stow away to get back again. I miss my Romanians!

So as much as I call them my obsessions, like they're trivial little whatevers, I really honestly with my whole heart miss Romania, and some Romanians, and still Britains, and some British folk. When it has to do with actual people, it's a little more than just omiworddidyoujustseethenewphotoshootforsoandsoit'sAMAZING type obsessions.

Anyhow, it's super late and blah I'm tired. So noapte buna! But if I were in Romania right now, I'd be saying buna dimineata! It's uh, not 10 in the morning there at all...no sir, not that late, except it is. Boo.