Packages.

We got our first packages today!

Here in Târgu Mureș, we really have access to pretty much anything we could want.  Romania's transition from communism to capitalism has resulted in a pretty open-armed embrace of commercialism and consumption (in large part, though of course there are pockets of dissent, like the "Shop less, live more" graffiti by our apartment).  But in Târgu Mureș alone we have access to three huge multinational grocery chains where we can buy food products ranging from Vietnamese rice paper wrappers to Philadelphia cream cheese.  Jack and I tend to avoid those stores, unless we've really got a craving -- they're not near the places we live and study, they're expensive and crowded, and quite frankly, we just prefer shopping at the tiny mom-and-pop shops on the street near our apartment, the farmers' market, and little hole-in-the-wall stores downtown.

But anyway, shopping habits aside: there are a few things we haven't been able to find here, no matter how hard we've looked.  Namely cumin, Reese's peanut butter cups, and brown sugar.  (We didn't realize how often we used cumin until we came here and started to cook without it!)  So our moms, being the loving and committed and wonderful people that they are, decided to mail them to us.  The packages left the States on the 11th and arrived in Romania on the 19th; we were given notice by the post office of their arrival on the 21st; and today, the 26th, we went to pick them up.  (In Târgu Mureș you can only pick up packages from overseas on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9am to 2pm.)

We had been warned by a friend that the office was a bit hard to find and that, upon arrival, we might be slightly interrogated (in Romanian), so we practiced possible vocabulary, looked at maps, brought our passports, and prepared for lots of confusion.  The post office where packages are delivered is on the far side of town from where we live (there are multiple post offices in the city, but out-of-Europe packages only come to one of them).  We took the bus, found the post office, walked around back to what looked like an unmarked delivery dock, pulled open a rusting metal door, and stepped into a tiny office, where a small group of people were clustered around a desk, mailing and receiving their packages.

Thankfully, our transaction was easy.  We handed the guy our notice and, after a few questions, he got the boxes for us.  Because our packages were gifts, we didn't have to pay to pick them up (if you order something online, for example, you have to show your proof of purchase and pay a customs tax before they let you have your package).  We had to explain that we had two boxes because one was from each of our moms, which made the people behind the counter chuckle a bit.  But after only ten minutes or so, we walked out triumphant, a box under each arm, grinning in anticipation of burritos and peanut butter cookies and Reese's to share with our friends here.

Thanks, moms.