Beautiful things.

I was walking home from work, almost to the door of our apartment building, when I saw Diana stepping out of the bakery.  We're not close -- we go to the same church and are friendly, but we don't actually know each other well -- and yet she walked over to me, beaming.

We greeted each other, and I asked her why she was looking so cheery.

"I've been reading the stories in the Bible of Jesus," she said to me, blushing and looking at the ground shyly.  "And I think I am falling in love with him."

It was lovely.  Diana, a shy and single woman who suffers from a serious skin condition, doesn't smile often, and when she does it's usually fleeting.  But here she was, grinning, her eyes sparkling, as she talked about her Savior.

Beautiful things.

Elections.

2016 doesn't seem to be shaping up to be a great year for politics.

I'll try to keep my comments on the U.S. presidential election off the blog (at least for now), though I will simply say that we are praying hard for the November contest.  But here in Romania, we just suffered through a round of local elections that left many disappointed... including us.

On Sunday, June 5, every town in Romania held its local elections, selecting its mayors, city council members, and county-level representatives.  In Lupeni, 9 different men ran for mayor, representing a wide variety of parties: the PSD (one of the largest parties in Romania; ex-prime minister Victor Ponta was the leader of the PSD until he resigned under scandal last year); the PNL (the party of the current Romanian president, Klaus Iohannis); the nationalist Romanian and Hungarian parties (both rather extremist, though obviously in different directions); and various other smaller parties that I know little about.  One of the things I appreciate greatly about the Romanian political system is the viability of multiple parties; the country doesn't seem to be locked into the duality of the American system.  This comes with its downsides, though, as it also means that opposition votes can get quite divided.

We've written a bit before about our concerns with the former mayor of Lupeni, Cornel Resmerița, a PSD party member who was arrested last year by the national anti-corruption bureau and is still under investigation on corruption charges.  Because he was barred from running, his son, Cristian Cornel Resmerița, ran for the PSD instead.  He won.  If the name is no indication, it seems likely that the son will follow in his father's footsteps... and we are really disappointed.

Somehow it's not a surprise, though.  The name recognition is hard to overcome, especially when you have 8 other candidates on the field.  But over the past few weeks, the election campaigning has worked up to a fever pitch... well, as feverish as anything gets in a small, fatalistic-feeling town.  We don't have a TV, so we don't know if there have been ads.  But there have been posters -- rows and rows of the same poster slapped on buildings and shop windows, with the name of the candidate, a generic slogan, and a severe-looking picture of the frowning wannabe-mayor glaring down at you.  I don't really understand the logic of putting up dozens of the same exact poster, side-by-side, on the same bulletin board, but that seems to be the way things are done here.  Sometimes shops will display multiple posters for different candidates, leaving you to wonder who's really supporting who.  Beyond the posters, the only other campaigning I'd seen were pamphlets, often handed out by large groups of people who strolled slowly down the sidewalk of Lupeni, dressed in party colors, walking in a huge group down the sidewalk and pushing flyers into the hands of passersby.  (The PSD also organized a carnival in the park, gave out balloons to school children, and visited retirees in their homes to promise bags of groceries in exchange for a vote... tactics which seem an awful lot like cheating to me, but we won't get into that right now.)

What I didn't see was any sort of real dialogue about the candidates and the issues.  None of the posters had a website where you could go to learn more, and I don't think most of the candidates even had a Facebook page.  There were no public forums or debates.  The closest we got to hearing the nine candidates' positions on various issues affecting Lupeni were slogans like "People first" and "All together for Lupeni," which mean just about nothing.  And listening to people talk about the election at the market and on the maxi taxi and in the evening after church, it soon became terribly apparent: this way of doing politics sucks.

America's civic discourse is awful and ugly right now in many ways, but at least it exists.  And much of it is still productive, thoughtful, and issues-focused, even if it's the vile stuff that most often makes the news.  Here in Lupeni, the level of democratic participation and discussion hasn't gotten there yet.  These elections made it painfully obvious that buying votes with bread and circuses (literally) still really works -- and there's not yet an alternative.  On Facebook and in the streets, I hear tons of Lupeni's people saying how dissatisfied they are with corruption and apathy and the Resmerița dynasty, and yet -- without an organized opposition, without voter education and open discourse about the alternatives -- he still won.  It's discouraging and daunting and confusing, and leaves me wondering all sorts of things.  When it comes to politics (something I am pretty passionate about in the States), I wonder often about my role here as an outsider.  I wonder about trying to encourage democratic discourse, since being outsiders sometimes allows us to see things in a different light and propose new ideas.  I wonder about having opinions about politics at all, since, being outsiders, this is in so many ways not something we understand deeply enough, not our battle to fight, not our community to defend.  I wonder about the best way to show my disappointment, since the election didn't seem truly free and fair.  I wonder about the best way to keep believing in hope, when many in the community continue to make choices I don't understand.

I wish I had some way to end this post well, some lesson learned or neat end to tie up.  But I don't.  Just like it hurts to see someone you love make bad choices, it hurts to watch Lupeni -- a community I have come to love -- make a choice that I am afraid is wrong.  For now I'll be trying to pray for Resmerița Jr., and debriefing the results with our friends who are also disappointed.  And then we'll put our heads up and keep on fighting the good fight.

Some days, kids are like pandas.

Lately, a lot of our work with kids has felt like this.

Except, there's more than 2 of them.  But they're still cute and cuddly.  So that's good at least.

Some Romans in Romania.

We recently went to a Roman Festival (it's like a Medieval Festival, but Roman...you get it) with some friends, and it was very cool (in the historical/craftman-ship sense of "cool"). 

Roman history is very contextualized here since Romanians claim that they are the descendants of intermarriages between the Romans and the Dacians, an Indo-European people living around the Danube and the Carpathians in the centuries BC. As the story goes, the Dacians were always a threat to the Roman province of Moesia (present day Serbia, Macedonia, and parts of southern Romania and Bulgaria), and in 85 AD, they actually raided several big cities and killed the governor. Emperor Domitian led a hastily-planned campaign against the Dacians in which  the Dacian general Decebal defeated the Roman legions initially, and eventually agreed to a peace treaty. 

Decebal became a client of Rome and was given a lot of money and weapons to defend the border, but was still fairly antagonistic towards Rome. This, plus the fact that most of the Dacian warriors had swords (Rome usually won because the folks they were fighting didn't have many swords) made the new emperor Trajan nervous, so he marched on Dacia in 101. Decebal asked again for peace, and then initiated a revolt, so Trajan sent troops back in 105. The Dacians put up a good fight and even repelled the first attack on their main city, Sarmizegetusa, but a treasonous nobleman helped the Romans to destroy the water pipes and the city eventually fell. Decebal escaped humiliation and killed himself before the Romans got to him, along with many other city inhabitants.

Trajan was really glad to have this border of the empire secure and to procure Dacia's rich gold mines (if you read about Rosia Montana, that's an old Roman/Dacian mine), so he declared 123 days of celebrations. He also erected what we now call Trajan's Column in Rome, telling the story of the Dacian wars. A lot of historical information about the Dacians comes from their depictions on the column, which you can visit today if you ever find yourself in Rome.

Dacia became a province of Rome for 170 years before it became too hard to defend and the Roman legions left. Most of the population stayed, however, and the mix of Roman and Dacian people became what we now call Romanian. While the Romanian language is mostly Latin based, it still has some words that people say are Dacian (for example "dor," the word that describes the state of missing someone or something). 

All that to say, no Roman festival in Transylvania would be complete without Dacians, and the festival actually ended with a fight between all the Roman legions and the Dacians. There were a lot of re-enactments, a lot of really skilled metal, wood and leather workers, and a lot of friendly animosity between the Romans and Dacians. 

The Dacians had curved swords which the Romans called "falx." The sharp side is on the inside of the curve, making the weapon like a cross between a sword, an axe and a hook. They were very effective at getting around Roman shields, or cutting right through them:

The Romans actually had to reinforce all of their helmets on the brow after the first fight with the Dacians because of how effective the falx was a breaking them.

We talked to a leather worker from Rome for a while and he showed us how to join, sew and put on leather sandals, socks and bracelets.

There were some military drills, first by the Romans showing off how cool their shields are:

Yes, the standard bearer is a true BEAR-er. He's wearing a bear skin on his head.

Then the Dacians presented themselves and did some archery practice.

Then, there was a gladiator re-enactment group from Italy who actually fought with armor and weapons modeled after historical records. These guys were actually fighting, so they used dulled blades, but they all came away with some bruises and cuts.

And then, the final battle. The Roman legions marched on Sarmizegetusa, and the Dacians bravely defended their homeland.

It had been raining gently throughout the whole battle, but when it was almost finished, it started pouring and dumping half-formed hail on us, so we beat a very dishonorable retreat to the car and drove back home. Next time we'll come with more wild warrior spirit and watch the fight to the end, come what may, but for now we're happy to just play dress-up.

Our friend Adi who told us about the festival.

Rest and retreat.

One of the most lovely things that Christian Reformed World Missions provides as support to its staff and partners is an annual retreat.  For those of us who serve in Europe, our retreat is regional, since there is usually only one family in each country.  This means that once a year we get to gather with all the other missionaries across Europe and Eurasia (as well as a few families from North Africa) in a beautiful place to be nourished -- prayed for, taught, encouraged, and loved.

This year the retreat was in Switzerland.  It was at a Christian Bible school and conference center in a little town called Beatenberg, perched high in the mountains above Interlaken, overlooking some of the most famous mountains in the Alps.  It was gorgeous.

The view from our room... amazing.

The retreat speakers focused on intimacy with God and soul care, which was a really welcome topic, as we have sometimes struggled with knowing how to feed ourselves in a church and cultural context so different from the one we grew up in.  As always, spending time laughing and story-telling and sharing with other people serving around Europe was so incredibly rich and fun and Good.  We are really grateful!

We took 3 extra days to explore bits of the lovely country of Switzerland (who knows if we'll ever get to come back again?!)  Here are just a few highlights.

At the Reformer's Wall in Geneva... it was rainy but we were still excited to see huge statues of Calvin, Luther, and Zwingli... haha. 

A cheese factory in Emmental!  These cheeses are HUGE. 

Beautiful Bern.  Look at that water!  Apparently people go swimming in the river year-round, and I can believe it... I wanted to plunge myself in to its turquoise loveliness too! 

Bern's beautiful city center.

Views on the train ride from Bern to Interlaken... 

 Rested and happy.

We are so, so grateful.

Spring cleaning isn't always what it seems.

Spring has come!  The valley is full of fruit trees, which are bedazzled in the white and pink of full bloom.  Every morning we look out our window to see the green creeping higher and higher up the slope, the last remains of snow on the peaks fading away.  And down in town, it's apparently time for spring cleaning: a flurry of sidewalk repaving, pothole filling, tree painting (weird, I know; apparently it's a European thing to paint the bottom of tree trunks white), pruning, planting, washing.

But this spring cleaning isn't all it seems.  We haven't seen Lupeni looking so spiffy since we moved here, so we were curious about the sudden effort.  Turns out, it's an election year.

(Insert ominous music here.)

Now, I am not usually a cynic or a pessimist.  In fact, my optimistic tendencies to find the silver lining in everything have driven many a friend, including my husband, crazy at times.  But even I am struggling here.  Yes, I am grateful that the sidewalk we walk down every day on the way to the office, once as rippled and cratered as the surface of the moon, is now covered in shiny black asphalt.  I am happy to see little kids finally able to ride their scooters and moms push their baby strollers down the hazard-free sidewalk, as they should, instead of down the street.  I am happy that the benches in the park are being repaired and repainted, that new playground equipment got installed, and that the shrieks and giggles of happy children are filling the warm, sunny air.

But really?  I would be much happier if the mayor had been doing his job all along, rather than saving up his good deeds for a showy attempt to buy good will in the months before an election.  (He's disqualified from running, by the way, since he's been under house arrest for the last year by the national anti-corruption bureau... but his son is running.  So it's not a big step forward.)

Plus, some of the "repairs" seem to actually be making things worse.  Our apartment used to look out onto two big, beautiful willow trees -- one in the park across the street, and one in the empty lot in front of the neighboring block.  But in the past few weeks, men have come with chainsaws to "prune" the trees -- though in this case, pruning means simply hacking off all the branches and leaving the trunk standing naked, like a giant bare stick stuck into the ground.  No one knows why the mayor has suddenly sent his people out to hack all of Lupeni's most beautiful city trees, but I've heard rumors he's selling the wood.  As if the rampant illegal logging in the mountains around our town wasn't enough.  Sigh.

As a foreigner who works for a non-political NGO, I don't feel like it's my place to do or say too much about the elections... which is hard for me!  So for now I am simply praying, oh Lord, have mercy.  Give the people of Lupeni wisdom in finding an alternative, a leader who will steward resources wisely and actually care for the city well.  Give them the power and courage to stand up to corruption and vote-buying and lazy, selfish leadership.  Give them hope for this city, a vision for its flourishing, and the wisdom and passion to bring that vision to life.

A visit from the board.

Last week, Jack and I hosted two members of the Christian Reformed World Missions Board of Trustees.  The Board apparently sends its members out periodically to visit different fields so that they can better know the places where CRWM missionaries are serving and therefore make wise and informed decisions.  I think that's great and we were excited to have them come see Romania.

But we were also really curious how the visit was going to go.  Steve and Jan, the other CRWM missionaries who live in Romania (who are actually employed by CRWM, while we are merely partners), are currently on home service in the United States.  So we were asked to show the board members around the country, introduce them to Steve & Jan's partners in Târgu Mureș (some of whom we knew, and others we hadn't yet met), and also bring them to Lupeni to see the work we're involved in with New Horizons Foundation.

It went really well.  One of the board members was actually on the Residence Life staff in our dorm when Jack and I were at Calvin, so we already knew him and were happy to spend a week reconnecting.  The other board member was new to us, but we quickly grew to like him too.  Over the course of our time together we were able to introduce them some of our favorite places and people here, and they were encouraging and prayerful and delightful guests.  It was fun for me and Jack to get to know some of Steve and Jan's partners up in Târgu Mureș, and we know it was encouraging for our local partners here in the valley to be visited by caring outsiders who took the time to listen and learn.

Here are just a few pictures from our time together.

A visit to the cantina at Betel. 

A stop at the lovely Peles Castle in Sinaia. 

Checking out the construction of new walls at the Fara Limite Climbing Gym. 

Listening to a partner in Targu Mures describe visions for a work training program for street kids, 

focused on construction and agriculture.

A trip up to snowy Straja to see where VIATA camp is held each summer.

A rest stop in Horezu, where we saw some of Romania's beautiful pottery. 

The board members even joined us for games at IMPACT!

A walk around Bucharest their last morning, where we wandered by the People's Palace. 

Smoke-free.

A happy announcement (from my perspective, at least): as of yesterday, Romania is smoke-free in public places!!!

Though Romania has been part of the European Union since 2008, it lags behind in a number of ways -- for example, we still use the Romanian leu instead of the euro.  Also, until March 15, Romanian restaurants, bars, train stations, you name it, were hazy and gray.  But yesterday the law changed, and people now have to step outside to light up.

As a non-smoker and a person with allergies, I am personally thrilled.  I know for some people, this is a frustrating change.  But in the interest of public health, I am really grateful that Romania has put this into law.  And yesterday evening, as we went out for dinner with some visiting guests, I was pleasantly surprised, as person after person in the restaurant quietly got up, slipped on their jacket, and stepped outside for a short smoke.  The air was clearer than I had ever seen it inside that restaurant.  I had expected more complaining or resistance, I guess -- but nope.  The change was made, and that was that.  Hooray!

Marțișor.

By now I am a few days late, but I just wanted to wish you a happy spring!

The Romanian holiday of Marțișor might be my favorite day of the year.  On March 1st, the streets are full of vendors selling the earliest of spring flowers -- snowdrops mostly, and a few early tulips too -- and little red & white bracelets with baubles attached.  Men buy them for their wives and girlfriends, parents buy them for their children, students buy them for their friends -- and by the end of the day, every vase is brimming with flowers and every lapel decorated with a little splash of color, a little drop of hope that spring is coming, that the winter is almost over.

Proverbs.

Last week I was working on a lesson for the IMPACT curriculum which required using some proverbs about health from around the world.  Searching for proverbs with trustworthy translations and interpretations in languages you don't know is a tricky task, and in my search I came across a few Romanian proverbs and expressions that I thought were interesting... so I'll share them here!

Așteaptă, murgule, să paști iarbă verde.

Literally translated, this one says "Wait, little mule, to eat the green grass."  Strangely, the website I found it on translates it as "While the grass grows, the seed starves," meaning something along the lines of don't wait too long for a great thing because in the meantime you might miss the good thing right in front of you.  I'm not convinced, though... so at risk of publishing a totally misinformed opinion on the internet, I think this proverb is about impatience. I can picture some farmer petting a young donkey on the head as it tries desperately to eat the first growth of spring, then gently tugging him away to eat old winter hay for just a few more weeks until the grass is good and green and lush.

Cine s-a fript cu supă, suflă și-n iaurt.

In English, this one is "He who burned himself with soup blows even on yogurt."  I love this proverb and its message about our tendency to remember past pain and become hesitant to try things again, fearing we'll experience the same shame or discomfort.  But yogurt won't hurt us... though our fear that it might can sometimes overcome that knowledge.  Also, I just think this one is funny.

Cine aleargă după doi iepuri nu prinde nici unul.  

Literally translated, this proverb says "He who runs after two rabbits doesn't catch either of them."  In other words, choose a goal and focus on it, or else your efforts will always be scattered and only half-successful.  It's kind-of like the opposite of "kill two birds with one stone."  Poor animals.

Copiii, nebuni și bețivii spun adevărul.

I am not so sure that this proverb is totally true, but I find it interesting anyway.  It says "Children, fools (crazy people), and drunkards tell the truth."  I do think those three groups of people tend to have fewer filters for what is considered correct and acceptable to say, and their frankness can be refreshing and insightful.  But truth?  I guess it depends on the subject.

Cu moartea toate diferențele dispar.

"With death, all differences disappear."  A little bleak perhaps, but this one might be the truest of all of them.  In the end it doesn't matter if we stored up treasures on earth; the differences between Roma and Romanian or black and white or rich and poor will all be made right.  Justice and mercy will reign.  For many of the people we work with here, that's a huge source of hope and encouragement and joy, and I learn from that every single day.

Sri Lanka.

A few days ago I got back from Sri Lanka, from an amazing week of IMPACT leader training.  One of the amazing (and exhausting) parts of my job as the international replication coordinator for IMPACT is traveling to the first training in any new country that begins the IMPACT program.  I do this to get to know the partner and their on-the-ground context as well as I can; to ensure that each program has a similar starting point; and to build trust and friendship for the years of collaboration that are ahead.  After that first training, though, I tend to send other trainers back to the country, so that they can bring their own perspectives and help share the privilege and challenge of helping IMPACT grow and develop in new contexts.

So this time it was Sri Lanka!  I was nervous, as it was our first time partnering with an organization in the Indian subcontinent, as well as our first time working in a post-war context.  Sri Lanka's violent civil war only really ended a few years ago, and many of the youth that our local partners are working with have PTSD from some of the horrible things they've seen and experienced.  Yet despite this, there are so many similarities between the Sri Lankan context and the Romanian context (or other countries where IMPACT is growing).  A huge exodus of young people from the country to work in more wealthy neighboring countries, where they're often exploited but earn enough money to send to their families back home.  A rural population that's shrinking as agriculture becomes less appealing to young generations, and youth who move to the big cities only to find themselves mired in poverty.  Increasing influence of technology -- smartphones, Facebook, and social media becoming commonplace among the young.  A desire for a better life, for economic security, for a sense of hope and belonging.  All of that is familiar.

It's an honor to lead these trainings.  The participants are so often amazing and experienced and I usually feel like I learn more from them than they learn from me.  This course was no exception, as the local partners shared their vast wisdom with me, usually speaking in their second or third language!  It's humbling and thrilling, and I am excited to see how IMPACT will make a difference in their work.

So here are a few pictures of my 11 days in Sri Lanka -- good memories and an exciting beginning!

 A good training on non-formal education always includes good games!

 Training participants share their expertise with each other as they think about how to adapt the program to their context.

The training participants! 

Dinner after the training each evening was an adventure... 

My co-trainer and I took one extra day in Sri Lanka to tour a bit, including visiting an elephant orphanage! 

On our last day in Sri Lanka we took a few hours to walk the beach in Colombo before boarding the plane back to the Romanian winter.

Construction.

One of the things you don't realize about life in a concrete communist bloc apartment until it happens: when neighbors do construction, it is really loud.

The apartment below our office is undergoing complete renovation -- literally gutting and rebuilding of every single wall.  Thus, since early December the soundtrack to our days has been the ear-splitting rattle of drills and the pounding of hammers.  All day.  Every day.  From 9am to 6pm.  It's... character-building, I guess.

Thankfully, last week when I went down there in desperation, they opened the door to my knocking (I don't know how they heard me knock over the noise) and agreed to take a 45 minute break so I could complete a Skype call with a partner in Haiti.  They're reasonable and friendly, and I know it's not the workers' fault.  But I can't help considering asking if they would take a break for a "Skype call" that lasts for, you know, three days...

Home sweet home.

We've been back in Romania for two weeks as of yesterday, after a lovely 2.5-week trip back to the great American Midwest.  It's kind-of hard to believe that our time back in that home was such a short time ago.  Jet lag seems to create some sort of time warp, and we've settled back into our regular schedules of life here in Lupeni with only a few nights of 2AM "Parks and Recreation" marathons.  (Yes, watching endless episodes of Leslie Knope escapades is the recommended Organ method for overcoming -- or at least enjoying -- jet lag.)

But more seriously, the strange disparity of it is hitting me hard this time.  I am so happily settled back into life here.  Catching up happened quickly after only a couple weeks away, and now the rhythms of going to the office, the cantina, church, visiting friends, making dinner, laundry, dishes... they're all back in place.  And yet just two weeks ago, we were on the other side of an ocean.  With our families.  Some of our oldest friends.  Burritos were easily accessible.  We drove on American highways and heard only American-accented English and ate American food and walked into American shops.  It feels like a dream -- a weird, boring-yet-comforting-and-oddly-jarring-and-familiar-at-the-same-time, dream.  It was a lovely visit, but I don't miss it.

Because now we're here, back in this other world, speaking American-accented Romanian and eating Romanian food and walking into Romanian shops.  Burritos are not easily accessible.  The United States feels a world away.  And yet as I write this, back in the U.S., my brother and sister are visiting my grandparents, and my former roommate is doing her seminary homework, and my dog is doing whatever he does on a Saturday afternoon... all as I sit here, on the little couch in our apartment in Lupeni, thinking about these worlds existing at the same time.

It didn't seem strange to me until recently.  Jack and I have decided (mostly) that we'll stay in Lupeni for two more years and return to the States at the end of 2017.  I just started actively looking into graduate schools, and I think that's what's making this so strange -- knowing that we will be choosing to leave this world, the one that feels so much more real and so much more like home -- to return to the dream-world of family and burritos and driving and Donald Trump (sigh).  I am not entirely convinced it's the right decision, hence the hedging of bets in the announcement -- but for the most part I am, and I feel peaceful about it even though it makes me incredibly sad.  I missed Romania while were in the States this year.  I am not really looking forward to returning to the U.S. permanently, except for the people I love there (and the burritos).  I have come to prefer most everything about our life here in Romania, honestly.  So two years from now, as I sit on a (hopefully larger) couch in an apartment somewhere in America, perhaps it will bring me comfort to know that these two worlds will still coexist.