gkb 7. April 2008 - 23:46
For the past few days I've been in Bucureşti, enjoying a welcome change of scenery whilst having some medical concerns attended to. I'd been looking forward to having an opportunity to come down south for a while, believe it or not; the 14-hour train ride is a definite drawback, but it's advantageous to be able to run errands, pick up some things that are difficult to find pretty much anywhere else, and have the opportunity to wander around a true urban environment again.
Between medical appointments I've been doing some shopping and trekking about in various different directions, revelling in the anonymity that comes with wandering a city that has a population of over 30,000. While I don't dislike my site, I do occasionally find it a bit challenging (draining?) to live in a place where I'm a) incredibly conspicuous, and b) known to many people. I can't go to the market without seeing one of my students on the street, and I can't go for a walk about town without getting stared at for one reason or another (perhaps I just have a giant, persistent booger? I've never asked ...). Being here is rather like being on vacation, and I suppose in a way it is.
The simplicity of staying in a hotel room is one obvious difference. There's a small bed & breakfast not too far from the PC offices where visiting volunteers get put up for official visits, and I just can't deny that it's been wonderful. Those simple little things that I've almost forgotten about after six months at site: being able to hop into the shower whenever, without having to think about it, instead of planning ahead, building a fire and then waiting an hour until the water temperature rises high enough to avoid a hypothermic reaction (would that there was a bathtub also; though that would most likely have caused me to fall down and die of sheer ecstasy). Having an actual bed to sleep on, instead of the foldout couch in my apartment whose painfully uncomfortable surface wakes me up anywhere from 2-5 times a night from back pain or tingling limbs or the hyper-awareness that the cotton batting that separates the wood frame from my body is, not unlike the Maginot Line, a woefully inadequate barrier. Waking up and traipsing downstairs to a prepared breakfast. The simplicity that comes from having a messenger bag's worth of stuff with you--just the essentials, leaving the clutter of a more permanent residence behind.
Having a huge (comparatively, at least) city to explore is another. I'm pretty accustomed to living in large cities, with different districts and neighbourhoods, large public transit systems, a variety of restaurants/shops/museums/coffeehouses to visit. Living in a town in which it's basically impossible to get lost has been a new experience, and has been incubating a low-grade sense of claustrophobia, further inspired by the fact that I seem to be very visible there. Which might not be so bad, were it the quirky, pleasant kind of different, but this is the "you're not Romanian" kind of different. In Bucureşti I am, of course, still not Romanian; however, I'm also nothing special. I just fade into the urban crowds, neither adored nor reviled, which suits me down to the ground. Walking around anonymously, taking a bus or the metro if I choose, finding new little streets and neighbourhoods, getting lost (I've got a bad sense of direction in the best of circumstances, and I can't begin to fathom how this city is laid out) and wandering around until I find something familiar again or hopping the metro back to a landmark, has been amazingly therapeutic.
It's also been indulgently pleasant to be someplace that actually has variety. Variety in everything--food, people, shops, cars, clothing, ethnicity, you name it. As with so many other things, I've grown accustomed to having a very limited scope of options--only traditional Romanian food and pizza joints for restaurants, the assortment of essentially-identical "Cafe Bar" cafés, seeing people dressed, not only similarly, but sometimes in identical clothing, whether it be traditional garb or the sweater that five women bought from the same shop. Next to no ethnic diversity whatsoever. So coming here is like arriving in cultural Mecca. Sure, it's not the melting pot of a New York or a London, but it's quite a diversity increase from Sighet. I see people in all different styles of clothing, a much greater selection of ethnicities, actual options for types of food. Grocery stores that stock a selection of items, and little ethnic and "independent" type shops. Museums, cultural events, cafés that I actually enjoy sitting down in with a book, that serve real cappuccinos instead of the powdered stuff out of a packet.
Unsurprisingly to pretty much anyone who has read more than a couple of entries at this site, the variety of food options has been far and away the most valuable part of my stay. The first night I got in I spent a ridiculous amount of money going out for Indian food, and it was absolutely worth it, as was being able to sit at my table for one, eating my food and reading my book in peace (such a course of action is ... unusual ... outside of the big cities here). I've already purchased more stuff than I want to worry about carrying back with me--from a small stovetop pot for brewing tea to a can of WD-40, as well as tortillas, wasabi paste, whole wheat flour, coconut milk, and several other things that nu exista in all of Maramureş, much less Sighet.
I'll even cop the ultimate confession, one that I never would have imagined would cross my mind before I left home, much less pass my lips. Two of the things I've been craving most since coming here have been sadly, disappointingly, mainstream American: a real cheeseburger, and a GIANT cup of coffee. And Bucureşti, playing the role of the host to thousands of expats, has both, in the form of Starbucks, and Ruby Tuesday.
I know, I know. Never in my life would I step over the threshold of a Ruby Tuesday were I back home, and though I occasionally patronised Starbucks during my past life, it was never because I really liked their coffee; it was strictly a pragmatic pursuit, best illustrated by the Onion. Close to a year of deprivation will do strange things to a person, though, and after having McDonald's be the closest approximation of a hamburger I'd seen, and a tiny, badly-brewed "cafea cu lapte" the only option for coffee, these two places went from being manifestations of the Evil Empire, serving mediocre and lacklustre facsimiles of good food to the shining pinnacle of American culinary pursuits.
So I spent one evening at Ruby Tuesday with another volunteer who was in town for the night, unabashedly indulging in being stereotypical Americans--burgers, fries, a beer for her and a Coke/milkshake combo for me. Horribly decadent, and absolutely heavenly. And before I leave I plan to spend a fair amount of time in the Bucureşti Mall, unapologetically paying 23 lei for a giant latte and an actual blueberry muffin, relaxing in the comfy chairs, reading and people-watching.
