On My Way

I’ve arrived, I’m home.

The nervousness I felt before and during my travel faded the minute I set foot on Romanian soil and saw my friends waithing for me beyond the glass doors. There is something within me that is at ease, an overhwlming peace.

Our first two stops - the mall in Timisoara and Reale Hypermarket, are signs that Western culture isn’t a foreign concept anymore. As I sit, I realize I could easily be in a Wal-Mart or Fred Meyer with the vastness and selection available. Part of my heart breaks as I’m sure, the uniqueness of Romania is being quickly replaced by all the world has to offer.

As I’ve considered the trasition of cultures, I now realize the merging of the two may make it slightly easier than I’ve ever anticipated. Yet my heart longs for the simple, the slow of pace, the uniqueness that Romania has to offer.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to get anywhere before. I say this for many reasons, the first of which may be obvious that I love Romania and long to spend my life here. But for far more emotionally charged reasons, I was glad to finally be united with great friends when I got off the plane and through customs in Romania. I started the morning checking in at the airport with two checked bags which both weighed about 90lbs each. I believed this to be impossible as I was able to lift both bags (although I couldn’t move them far). But the scale repeatedly read over the maximum 70lbs allowed for one piece of luggage. After purchasing a third piece of luggage and moving things around, I believed I was well on my way. (I still knew I was pushing it with my carry on luggage as well.) While I was boarding my transatlantic flight in Chigago, I was told that I was only allowed one piece of carry on items, but this time they would let it slide. When I arrived in Munich, I was exhausted and I fell asleep at the gate of my next flight. With five minutes to departure, I woke up to an empty gate, with no one around. As I realized what time it was, I heard “Passenger Kerry to gate H23 for immediate departure” which was 4 gates down. I picked up all my stuff and ran so fast to the gate. The lady taking my ticket told me, “We were about to leave, you’re the last passenger we’ve been waiting for, and one of your bags must be gate checked when you get to the plane.” I flew down 3 flights of stairs to the bus that would take me to the plane. I finally arrived to my plane, where my backpack - also overpacked, was gate checked.

Arriving in Timisoara was like filling my lungs so deeply with air. And as I stepped onto the plane, the first sounds of the Romanian language was like music to my ears. I am home.

October 28th, 2006 © allthis