Last night, we stayed in the home of our folklore host. We had an upstairs bedroom with sear sucker, textured sheets. This was a first. The double room was very peaceful, until 5;00 am when we were awakened by the rooster and his hens outside our bedroom window. Between the crows, diesel farm tractors rumbling down the road towards their fields, and the near by church bells that rang continuously from 7:20-:30, calling people to morning mass, this would be a village that no one could ever sleep late.
This morning we needed to be ready for breakfast by 8:00 so we didn't mind the natural village alarms...well maybe the rooster could have held off a bit.
After our breakfast of bread, butter, apricot and plum jams, ham, cheese, fried eggs, coffee and tea, we took a walk in the morning mist through the village of Iza. We visited a place where dowery trees are refined,
the local, traditional plum brandy is distilled,
and a typical whirlpool is still used by the local women to wash heavy woolen blankets and hung on sturdy beams to dry.
the local, traditional plum brandy is distilled,
and a typical whirlpool is still used by the local women to wash heavy woolen blankets and hung on sturdy beams to dry.
On our way into the village I took some photos of some flowers in a garden.
There was a lady in the shadows of the garden who smiled at me when I looked up. When we returned from the village she was waiting on her front porch dressed up with white cap sitting on her porch waiting for our return.
Our guide George struck up a lively conversation with her, and translated for us. She had a great sense of humor telling us she was 57 or was it the reverse, she had number reversal problem, but she retired when she was 65. She told us her teeth were bad, but she didn't want false teeth because she was afraid shouldn't couldn't remember where she would put them if she took them out. Apparently, this is a common problem in the village.
There was a lady in the shadows of the garden who smiled at me when I looked up. When we returned from the village she was waiting on her front porch dressed up with white cap sitting on her porch waiting for our return.
Our guide George struck up a lively conversation with her, and translated for us. She had a great sense of humor telling us she was 57 or was it the reverse, she had number reversal problem, but she retired when she was 65. She told us her teeth were bad, but she didn't want false teeth because she was afraid shouldn't couldn't remember where she would put them if she took them out. Apparently, this is a common problem in the village.
We chatted with her for about 10 minutes. Eventually she went into her tiny cottage and brought out some photos of her family. Moriana was delighted to have some visitors to talk with as she lives alone and most of the villagers all know each other's stories so well they are no fun to tell again.
Our next stop was in the village of Rozavlea to a famous master carver in his own workshop.
He represented Romania at the 1999 Smithsonian World Folk Festival in Washington, DC., and claims to have invented the wooden chain link.
He was quite a humorous character as well. One of our members, Helen, mentioned that she thought she had seen the wood carving at the Festival in 1999. Without missing a beat, he walked over to her, gave her a hug and wink and said he remembered the night very well. We all laughed, Helen blushed, and signed the guest book with, "So nice to see you again."
The woodcarver showed us a cradle and traditional child's seat. Where baby was placed to sit bare bottomed so that diapers were not needed. Later as the baby grew, the seat was enhanced with new tools for the growing child, an ashtray and a brandy glass.
The woodcarver's son has followed in his father's footsteps and has quite a business doing large scale carvings of gates, doors, beams, and shrines.
Next stop was the exquisite Barsana Nunnery, a superb example of Maramures wooden church architecture. Beyond the new church there were many church related outbuildings and gardens. It was a beautiful setting in the Maramures mountains. Gardens and hanging geraniums on the buildings decorated the grounds.
Instead of visiting a mask maker in the village of Sacel because he was out of town, we visited a museum of Peasant Women.
There was a display of these masks made from textiles. The masks are traditional from ancient times to scare away evil spirits.
In addition to the masks, there were home art tools (looms, ceramic pots, wooden spoons, traditional baked breads, textiles, and furniture). Peasant women were expected to take care of everything in the home while the peasant men worked in the fields. Children learned at an early age that their duty was to work along side their parents.
There was a display of these masks made from textiles. The masks are traditional from ancient times to scare away evil spirits.
In addition to the masks, there were home art tools (looms, ceramic pots, wooden spoons, traditional baked breads, textiles, and furniture). Peasant women were expected to take care of everything in the home while the peasant men worked in the fields. Children learned at an early age that their duty was to work along side their parents.
The Maramures has been a pleasure not only because of how picturesque it is but because of the good natured people we have met here. We learned from our guide as we were leaving the area, that we were only 400 kilometers at this point from Chernobyl.
We crossed the Carpathian Mountains back to Transylvania passing though an area inhabited mostly by the Hungarian Szeklers community, which actively maintains its peculiar culture and even script.
Our favorite stop of the day was a Gypsy home visit. We visited the family home of Carla (24) and her sister Margaret (14).
Their father is a policeman and owner of car mechanics shop. They have been settled in the village for twenty years. It was a unique an intriguing opportunity to learn about this less known yet controversial ethnic group, about its culture, identity and lifestyle. I plan to write about this in more detail tomorrow. We learned so much! Woe to the Gypsy Woman.
Their father is a policeman and owner of car mechanics shop. They have been settled in the village for twenty years. It was a unique an intriguing opportunity to learn about this less known yet controversial ethnic group, about its culture, identity and lifestyle. I plan to write about this in more detail tomorrow. We learned so much! Woe to the Gypsy Woman.
We arrived in Sighisoara - World Heritage Site and the only still inhabited medieval citadel in Europe, around 7:30. Our tourist bus is not allowed up the hill to the citadel, so we transferred the necessities to a hotel car and walked up the steep hill to the the citadel. We are staying in the same hotel (The house of the Antler) that Prince Charles used in his early travels to Transylvania. By the time we reached the hotel, caught up with some necessary hand laundry, went out to dinner, and returned it is well passed 11:00 pm.
Tomorrow we will take a walking tour of this medieval town, the birthplace of Vlad the Impaler and symbolic model for the Count Dracula Fiction.
Our necks are covered as we try to sleep in "Dracula's Hometown",