As of yesterday evening, I am a resident of Târgu Mureş.

The run-up to the move was, unsurprisingly, rather beleaguered with confusion and uncertainty. Up until about 10.30 on the eve of my departure I was under the impression that I'd be travelling to Baia Mare by bus to catch the train from there, leaving the bulk of my things behind, and returning for them when normal train service resumed. I'd done a considerable amount of hunting, in the hopes of finding someone who would be able to drive me (as PC reimburses for site change transportation), but everyone I found who had a car was unwilling or unable to drive such a distance, round-trip. I was branching out into second- and third-tiers of association, with people I know asking people they know, asking other people ... and no luck.
Then the bomb was dropped on me by my program manager that, while I could get reimbursed for being driven to my new site by a third party, if I took the train it would come out of my own pocket. Maybe not technically out of my own pocket--our living allowance includes a small stipend for business travel, which is where my train-ticket money was seen to be coming from--but out of the amount of money that I was using for monthly expenses. If I went over it would be reimbursed at the end of the quarter, but for all intents and purposes this was irrelevant. The expenses inherent in moving were already putting pressure on me financially, and if I had to pay my train tickets out-of-pocket I'd be eating cardboard for the rest of the month. I gave away a lot of things before leaving my original site, had to pay the owner of the apartment to do some of the cleaning I was unable to do because of having no running water, paid an exorbitant electrical bill that was the result of months' worth of miscalculations on the part of the company. Upon arrival I'd have to replace things I got rid of as well as pay for things like setting up internet service and the first round of bills. So being informed by my program manager that I was, in essence, being fiducarily punished for not knowing many people with cars was, to put it diplomatically, pretty upsetting.
The discrepancy was pointed out to a few people within the office, though, and I was soon notified that under the circumstances I'd be reimbursed in full, immediately, for the price of my train tickets. That out of the way, I began repacking my stuff so that I could bring the essentials with me on the initial trip, and come back for the rest when I could take a train back into town again. Only to find, at the eleventh hour, that I'd be able to drive after all. Dramatic, and confusing, but ultimately working out well.
The guy who offered to drive me asked for a flat rate that was higher than what I'd get reimbursed for, but for the sake of time and convenience it was worth it to me. I scurried about, taking care of the last few things I needed to do, paid a couple of visits, and then my knight in a shining yellow Mercedes minivan arrived, we loaded up my not-inconsiderable collection of stuff, got on the road, and six or so hours later arrived in Târgu Mureş.

My new apartment is on the fifth floor of a bloc building in the center of town. It's a beautiful old place; the woman who owns it inherited it from her late aunt, and all the furnishings and accoutrements have remained intact. So the place is filled with wood furniture, nice carpets, a huge agglomeration of cookware and glassware, an actual, comfortable bed, and as the pièce de résistance, a huge wall-mounted bookshelf filled with valuable old Hungarian books. The whole place has a very prewar feeling to it; lots of little drawers and details in the furniture, armoires with key-locking doors, a wall of built-in storage cabinets in the hall. It's lovely, and has such a cohesive feel to it that I find myself not wanting to change anything, even things that on their own don't really fit my tastes. Instead of wanting to put my own stamp on the place, which is my usual reaction when I move into a new space, I find myself wanting to tuck away all of my own things and keep the place looking exactly as it did when I arrived. Which, for the most part, I have. I spent most of today nesting--putting things away and arranging them in a neat and logical way. There's an adorable pantry that's now full of the accumulation of food and spices and tea I brought with me, armoires with clothing hung and folded neatly in them, a bathroom with the necessities out for easy access and everything else inhabiting the many drawers. The absolute opposite of my last apartment, where the furniture was uncomfortable and the cabinet doors didn't close and there was no place to put anything away, so no matter how much arranging I did it always had a cluttered feel.

What I've seen of the town so far is also promising. The city centre is beautiful, with a park-cum-boulevard--Piaţa Trandafirilor, or 'Alley of the Roses'--running up the main area, around which is the Primaria, Teatrul National, Palaţul Cultural, a library and symphony hall, as well as the obligatory shops and restaurants. There's some beautiful landscaping and architecture here, as well as an old fortress and several churches. I've been told that there are a few movie theatres, a bowling alley, and a few sport complexes with both indoor and outdoor swimming pools.
All in all, I'm pretty pleased, and looking forward to getting to know the place better and pursuing some projects here. I'll see my school sometime this week, and have already gotten some leads for secondary projects, be it tutoring or adult education or working with the local animal shelter. Here's hoping that my second year in Romania will be more enjoyable and productive than the first.