The temperatures can get pretty hot in the Romanian capital. And the sidewalks are made of blacktop instead of concrete. Which makes for a pretty interesting impression as things heat up.

It’s that yummy time of year when the fruit ripens naturally in the mountains of Oltenia. Unlike an entrepreneurial American child who might make a lemonade stand, these Roma children are forced into child labor by their parents (under penalty of a beating).

You may click, if you’re so inclined.

When I first came to Romania as a tourist back in May of 2004, I felt very much the part of pioneer. It was a far away land of which I understood very little.

I had managed to learn a few basic words before arriving. I had read a few reference books on history and culture. I had a very dear friend who thoughtfully arranged some introductions with her old friends for me to meet in Braşov. And I had made a couple of friendly contacts chatting with some guys over the internet whom I could meet in other parts of the country.

I had been warned to watch out for beggars and thieves. Warned to avoid instant-friends who would attempt to take advantage of my relatively better economic status. Warned to absolutely not trust anything any romanca would say, because they’d lie through their teeth and sell their own mother just to get a visa.

That’s about the extent of my preparations. Armed with a camera and credit card, I stepped aboard the plane to travel halfway around the world alone. Yeehaw.

At the airport, my first contact was with Romanian taxi drivers whom I shook off until the rental car arrived. I climbed inside and left the terminal in search of the highway north out of the Bucureşti metroplex where I learned how to drive like a local.

Most everyone I met during that trip was extremely friendly and quite helpful. I bumped into one or two Romanians who try to leech off you because they think you’re rich and will pay for their everything, but fortunately I learned this stereotype of scamster is a very rare breed not at all representing Romania.

I’d even go so far as to argue the opposite is true.  There are far fewer thieves in Romania than bogus rumors would have you believe because most people respect one another.  While friendships can develop quickly because of mutual interest in cultural exchange, Romanians are incredibly hospitable and generous, not leeches.  The ladies are unfairly maligned; most have more of a moral compass than many of their Western counterparts.

For anyone else having trepidation about coming to Romania because of things you may have heard, let me assure that I survived rather well on a policy of being open without being put into any compromising positions. Actually, I had a total blast and felt very good about the new friends I had made along the way.

So much so, in fact, that I came back for a second dose a few months later in October. Again, I found myself sucked into a series of adventures I’m not sure I’ll ever forget. By the time I was back home in the United States, I realized I was developing a crush on Romania.

I would have to go back a third time. But when?

It took a little longer than I had hoped because late 2004 found me overwhelmed with business commitments which precluded any return to my beloved Transylvania in early 2005. My plans had been dashed against the rocks of responsibilities of the time. But I kept a little candle lit for Dacia.

Then, in the summer of 2005, things began to change for me as those turbulent days came to a close. I underwent a complicated thinking process about where I was and what I wanted to be doing. Some might call it soul searching. Others might call it a mid-life crisis, although I’m not so sure I’m old enough to qualify for that one just yet.

After casting about, it hit me. I wanted to go to Romania.

This time I wouldn’t be a tourist like before, but I would actually move there. Sell almost everything I owned in America. Craigslist, eBay, Amazon. I dumped it all on a fire sale. It was a Romer!can Sales Event! Everything. Must. Go.

My friends were in a state of disbelief because they couldn’t comprehend making such a change, plus they weren’t too sure where Romania was anyway. I mean, it’s like -uh- over there somewhere, right? Aşa e.

I think my sisters, parents, and other family members were probably caught off guard by such a dramatic move, but they towed the party line of supporting the big change.

The main question: was when would I come back?

Gazing into the oblique crystal ball isn’t an easy task, even for a tarot-toting fortune teller.

My best guess was that I would be in Romania for two to three years. Beyond that, I couldn’t be sure as it was just too far away to know.

The plan was to come here, see more of Romania, get more into the culture both traditional and modern, make friends, have a life, and generally jump in with both feet. Sink or swim, I was going to uproot and replant here. And I did.

My intention — as one or two of you have alluded to — has been to write a book about Romania. Something that makes Romania more accessible to the West, because I think Romania is unjustifiably marginalized as being radically different when I feel it’s actually quite similar to the rest of Europe and even the United States.

You’re not freaks. Nothing to be scared of.

I want to see increase political ties. I want to see increased commerce. I want to see a major uptick in tourism from Americans, British, Australians, French, Germans, and others.

Not necessarily budget-restricted backpackers on a hike or a sleazy businessman passing through overnight to blow 50€ on a half hour with an independent escort service. I mean regular tourists. Young couples. Older couples. Families, even. Groups seeking historical travel opportunities. People improving their tans on the Black Sea. Ecology buffs interested in the Danube Delta.

Of course, I cannot control all that. But my desire was to publish a book about Romania as I’ve come to see it, not the anachronistic way much of the West continues to pigeon-hole it. I’d like to share both the impressive and the idiosyncratic.

And I will. Wait and see. It won’t be too long before I can update you on this matter in the future. Keep your credit cards defrosted so when the checkered flag waves, you’ll know what to buy Bunica for Craciun.

This little blog has served as part of my preparations as a dry run and trial balloon. All the conversations you and I have had via this crude medium have meant a lot to me. Your hospitality and insight have been invaluable.

Now, about a month ago, I’d just reappeared after an unscheduled hiatus, the reasons for which I explained and apologized. Since then, I’ve been attempting to keep our various threads active. Yet, we still have much more to discuss from both 2007 and 2006. I can’t write as fast as it all happens!

There’s a catch, however.

I know you. My readers aren’t particularly stupid. I don’t attract that type. You’ve read this far and you could feel it coming. That little lump in your stomach. And your instincts served you well, my friend.

The news is that I’ll be leaving Romania.

The party who contacted me back in May have continued to keep an open dialog after I originally declined the unexpected and very interesting opportunity so that I would stay in Romania.

But the negotiations escalated to the point where I can no longer reasonably refuse what I find set before me. Honestly, it’s a strong enough offer I’d be a fool to say no.

As recently as early May, I would have bet the bank on my staying in Romania at least another year, if not longer. Yet, it would seem my original guesstimate was accidentally right. At least two years? When I leave soon, it will turn out to be almost exactly two years. I find it hard to believe.

I have already begun the process of getting my ducks in a row. I’m still not quite sure what to do with all the stuff I’ve accumulated here in Romania, but the hard decisions are in motion. In about one month, I will no longer live here.

Feel like giving me a piece of your mind? You may get the chance to do exactly that.

My rushed schedule is a bit “catch as catch can” but I’m committed to hosting a Texas-style barbecue for any readers who want to meet the guy behind the mask. That’s right; I’ll be personally grilling up some southern BBQ just for you. We’ll get ourself a big piece of beef, maybe some pork ribs. I’ll concoct some Romer!can barbeque sauce from scratch.

A regular hoe-down, y’all.

Where? That’s still up in the air. I’d very much prefer to have the party right here in the city of Bucuresti, but that depends on finding someone who feels comfortable opening up their home (okay, your porch is good enough) where we can have access to a grill, turn on some music, maybe a little wifi (if you’ve got internet, I can handle the rest), let people bring some beer (of course!), and generally turn your little place into the friendly darn homestead this side of the Rio Grande.

Any volunteers? Email me directly and let’s make a deal.

When? Unless there’s a darn good reason not to, I think we’d be looking at the afternoon and evening of Saturday, July 28th. I figure it’ll be safe to show up about 3 or 4pm so you can watch the master chef at work. We’d probably eat about 5 or so. Toss in a little time for chatting and drinking a beer. I figure most of you will head home by taxi around sundown. Of course, we could always take the party elsewhere if we’re still going strong…

Please post a comment and let me know how you feel about this plan. If it’s a bad idea, I need to know. If enough of you would come out, then I’d say let’s do it. If you would considering letting me BBQ at your place, definitely let me know.

As for the blog, we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot. I’ll be writing throughout the month, followed by a brief pause in early August as I get re-adjusted to Houston, then resume for as long as we’ve got a conversation about Romania. If you’re willing to stick around (even if it’s just to boo me), then I’ve got some more tales to tell and things to share with both my American readers and European audience.

Will I come back to Romania? O sa vedem noi.

It’s a crystal ball thing again, but I feel confident I’ll surely be back on vacation more than once in the nearish future. As to whether or not I’d move here, the future is uncertain at this time, but I feel favorably about the notion of finding myself a nice little bungalow (maybe on the seaside next time) where I could re-integrate myself with this second home I’ve come to love.

If you’d have me.

Oh, yeah, baby! It’s that golden season here in Romania. Time to hit up your local roadside vegetable salesperson and nab yourself some farm fresh porumb.

Looks good, doesn’t it? Alas, t’would seem beauty is only skin deep…

(more…)