because i feel like being sentimental.
i miss playing. i would kill for a piano right now, with no one around to hear. i'd play la dispute first and second. maybe even third. then i would play moonlight sonata followed by fur elise and anitra's dance. of course they'd all sound like crap because i haven't played in seven months, but that certainly would not stop me. i'd play comptine d'un autre été followed by sur le fil and to finish with flare, i'd pound out a solid hall of the mountain king. then repeat.
i miss pulling up to my dad's house on sundays and seeing tj, bare foot and big grinned, opening the front door and running out to me, making me hurry to park the car and undo the seat belt and get out there. adventures sure to abound.
i miss the solidity of saturdays. kickboxing in the morning, lunch with my mom in the afternoon followed by a walk with ozzie around the lake, coffee at my favorite shop, a show with friends in the evening. a day well spent without any questions of what i *should* be doing. i miss those saturdays alot.
i miss the desert and the high, dry sun, the emaciated landscape of sage and dirt and the smell that matched. reno from snake mountain. reno from any mountain. a downtown of casinos that bumped into a university and the interesting mix of people that resulted. home.
i miss a relatively well defined job and the fluffy dogs and diet dr. pepper that went with it.
other than people,
i don't miss
much else.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
pay back
After living in Ploiesti for about a month, a couple of little kids tried to steal a water bottle right out of my hand. I had been walking home from training, feeling content with what was going on in my life, when I passed by a couple of grubby, dirt-smudged kids, both of whom were smoking a cigarette, neither of whom were over the age of ten. The older of the two said something to me that I couldn't understand and, from the tone of his voice, wouldn't want to understand, so I continued walking. A few seconds later the smaller one ran up from behind and tried to grab the water bottle I had just purchased out of my hand. I don't know if I naturally have a death grip, or if I was on edge already because of the negative tone in the other boy's voice, but the bottle didn't budge and the little guy nearly fell over trying to get it. I was determined to maintain my course as he continued trying to pry the bottle from my hand while the older one walked slowly behind us, still talking in that deep, frightening tone, which to me sounded unnatural for a child. This went on for maybe thirty seconds until I finally stopped and turned abruptly to look at them both because I didn't know what else to do. The little one didn't expect this and decided the best solution was to plant a poorly aimed kick on my leg and run away, while the older one just stopped. Stopped walking and talking. I stared at them with the meanest eyes I could muster until they reluctantly turned the other direction. On my way home, I felt miserable. Somebody tried to steal something from me, I denied a thirsty kid water, six year-olds are smoking and living in filth, and I'm getting kicked for it.
About a month after moving to Sfantu Gheorghe, I was heading home and was about to pass by a very similar-looking boy, maybe 6 or 7 years old, tattered jeans, dirt-stained t-shirt, grimy discarded dress shoes about 3 sizes too big. He was walking towards me, hands in his pockets, head down, and I recalled my past experience with a similar child and the recently purchased bottle of water sitting in my bag. Unconsciously, I slipped my hand in the bag and around the bottle and just as he was about to pass, I pulled it out and, not really aware of what I was doing, held it out to him. He looked up, took the bottle of water, said a very pure "multumesc", twisted off the lid, took a big swig, smacked his lips and wiped his mouth on his arm, then went about his day with one less thing to worry about.
Two weeks ago, I went to Sighisoara to visit some friends. I was waiting at the train station to head back home when a grown man started harassing some of the little kids sitting around the station. The little kids were part of the Rroma population, as the other kids from above most likely were, too. The Rroma, or "gypsies", are often seen as the root of all ofRomania Romania Romania , but in much of Europe , and if you are looking for something to read, Bury Me Standing by Isabelle Fonseca provides a good insight into their lives. Anyways, this grown man was accosting a group of children who were sprawled out on a section of the train station platform. At first he was just yelling at them, probably asking them to move (I couldn't understand all of it), but after getting zero response from them, he started kicking their bags and belongings onto the train tracks. This got a bit of a reaction as they gave him dirty looks and hopped onto the tracks to get their things, but the man was still not satisfied with his display of dominance, so he started making movements like he was going to hit the kids. They scattered, all of them but the littlest. He was maybe 5 and he just sat there, obviously confused and not sure what was going on, and, surrounded by adults waiting for their trains, got dragged by the collar of his shirt by this "man", than slapped, than finally kicked in the face. All because he wasn't quick enough to move. I was screaming in my head, standing on the other side of the tracks, not sure how this could possibly be happening. A man, a grown man probably in his 50's, is actually beating up a five year old IN FRONT OF PEOPLE and NO ONE is doing anything about it, including me! In fact, most people didn't even seem bothered by it. I couldn't think of what to do, being on the opposite side of the tracks...yell? I should have yelled. Finally, somebody else yelled at the guy to find someone his own age to beat and he let go of the little kid, who was bawling and probably blind with tears. He ran back to his friends, where his cheeks were inspected and his shoes were retrieved from the tracks and hisses were aimed at the “man”. I spent the next hour glaring at him, until my train arrived. When I got on the train, I found a seat so I could glare at him through the window. I wanted to glare at him and spit in his face and kick his shins, but all I did was glare.
A couple hours later on the same train, I was calmly looking out the window, thinking about other things, and munching on some mixed nuts. When the train made a stop, a group of Rroma kids got on and sat down in the booth next to me. It took them maybe two seconds to realize that I had food and the oldest of the group jumped up and started asking me for some. Va rog, va rog, va rog, he repeated. Please, please, please. It's an inexplicable moment of shame mixed with annoyance, when a group of starving, impoverished kids asks you, the well fed and happy American, for food. For one minute, I just want them to go away and leave me alone with my nuts, which I bought and are rightfully mine, and the next minute, I feel ashamed for being so annoyed by KIDS. Hungry kids who've known nothing else but this life, the life they are begging for out of the bag in my hand. I'm torn. Then I remember a little boy getting kicked in the face just for being in the wrong spot at the wrong time and, with that thought and a little sigh of annoyance, I thrust the bag into the boy’s hands. His face lights up, he says "Thank you", not "multumesc", but the English phrase. I didn't say anything to him. How'd he know? Anyways, I spent the rest of the train ride watching this group of kids thoroughly inspect each nut and excitedly talk about the different varieties before eating them. It brought me immense pleasure. Much more so than saying no.
About a month after moving to Sfantu Gheorghe, I was heading home and was about to pass by a very similar-looking boy, maybe 6 or 7 years old, tattered jeans, dirt-stained t-shirt, grimy discarded dress shoes about 3 sizes too big. He was walking towards me, hands in his pockets, head down, and I recalled my past experience with a similar child and the recently purchased bottle of water sitting in my bag. Unconsciously, I slipped my hand in the bag and around the bottle and just as he was about to pass, I pulled it out and, not really aware of what I was doing, held it out to him. He looked up, took the bottle of water, said a very pure "multumesc", twisted off the lid, took a big swig, smacked his lips and wiped his mouth on his arm, then went about his day with one less thing to worry about.
Two weeks ago, I went to Sighisoara to visit some friends. I was waiting at the train station to head back home when a grown man started harassing some of the little kids sitting around the station. The little kids were part of the Rroma population, as the other kids from above most likely were, too. The Rroma, or "gypsies", are often seen as the root of all of
A couple hours later on the same train, I was calmly looking out the window, thinking about other things, and munching on some mixed nuts. When the train made a stop, a group of Rroma kids got on and sat down in the booth next to me. It took them maybe two seconds to realize that I had food and the oldest of the group jumped up and started asking me for some. Va rog, va rog, va rog, he repeated. Please, please, please. It's an inexplicable moment of shame mixed with annoyance, when a group of starving, impoverished kids asks you, the well fed and happy American, for food. For one minute, I just want them to go away and leave me alone with my nuts, which I bought and are rightfully mine, and the next minute, I feel ashamed for being so annoyed by KIDS. Hungry kids who've known nothing else but this life, the life they are begging for out of the bag in my hand. I'm torn. Then I remember a little boy getting kicked in the face just for being in the wrong spot at the wrong time and, with that thought and a little sigh of annoyance, I thrust the bag into the boy’s hands. His face lights up, he says "Thank you", not "multumesc", but the English phrase. I didn't say anything to him. How'd he know? Anyways, I spent the rest of the train ride watching this group of kids thoroughly inspect each nut and excitedly talk about the different varieties before eating them. It brought me immense pleasure. Much more so than saying no.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Exchange
Time to focus on the positive. You know how I often make cookies for people just for the hell of it? Just because I love making cookies and knowing that people enjoy them. I feel that it's one of the simplest forms of giving - the offering of a delicious home baked good. Well, every now and then I'll bring a little bag of cookies to my tutor or in to work or whenever I'm meeting people and have extras and in the past week, the gesture has returned itself in the form of two different types of traditional vegetable spreads. Apparently, this is the time of year to make Salata de Vinete (eggplant spread) and Zacusca (bell pepper spread). My tutor and a friend at work were talking, on separate occasions, about how they were going to make both spreads last weekend and they're the two locals I talk the most with, so according to basic deduction, last weekend was the unofficial Sfantu Gheorghe Veggie Spreads weekend. Anyways, my friend from work was telling me about the Vinete on Friday and how to make it and I said "wow, that sounds delicious!" as I offered her a chocolate chocolate chip cookie and, after taking a bite, she said "wow, this is delicious!" and I said "thanks!" and then went about my work. On Monday, I arrived at the office to find a little tupperware container carefully packed full of Vinete on my desk. I couldn't help but grin and immediately pull out the bread I had brought for lunch and took a big bite and ran to find her and tell her it was delicious. Later on Monday, I went to my tutoring session and she had several big bowls of veggies in different stages of processing out and proceeded to explain the preparations and ingredients that go into Zacusca, and I said "Mmm, that sounds tasty!" as I handed her a little bag of cookies. She immediately ate one and said "mmm, this is tasty!" and I said "multumesc!" and went about my lesson. Today, I showed up to tutoring and saw a little jar filled with red peppery Zacusca on the side of the table, but didn't want to get too excited, maybe it was for someone else, or sitting out for her own use. As she sat down at the table, she slid the little jar towards me and, in a very kind voice, said "for you. For all your cookies." I don't think I can explain why, but it was difficult to say "multumesc" that time. When I got home tonight, I made dinner out of toast spread thick with the contents of that little red jar and I could have cared less what it tasted like. It was delicious.
From our Pofta Buna cookbook:
From our Pofta Buna cookbook:
Salata de Vinete/Vinete Salata
Time: 1 ½ hr
Servings: 8-10
Ingredients:
Instructions:
1. Roast eggplant over an open flame until blackened all over (don’t forget the ends).
2. Place blackened eggplants in cold water to cool them quickly. As soon as they are cool enough to handle, peel them and rinse off any bits of charred skin. (If they sit too long in their blackened skin the flesh will begin to taste bitter and burned).
3. Place clean eggplants in a colander to drain for 10 min.
4. Chop eggplant very fine with a wooden or stainless steel knife. Put it back in the colander to drain 10 min (or until its done dripping).
5. While eggplant is draining, finely chop onion and garlic (optional).
6. When eggplant is ready, transfer to a large bowl (not metal). Add chopped onion, garlic (if using), vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. If using mayonnaise, add now and blend well. Taste again and adjust as needed. Serve cold.
Notes: This spread can be found EVERYWHERE in Romania and it is delicious served with bread, veggies or eaten plain. If you are in a hurry, you can find eggplant in jars in most supermarkets. Or if you make your own, it freezes well. It is well worth roasting your own eggplants for the good flavor. Here are some tips:
To roast the eggplants outside, you can use a grill (just place the eggplants low over the flames and cook – turning frequently – until blackened and soft), or you can roast them directly on hot coals. To use the hot coals, wait for the fire to die down and consolidate the coals. Place the eggplants directly on the coals. Turn the eggplants every 10 min or so (depending on how hot your coals are) until they are soft and blackened all the way around.
To roast the eggplant inside, you can use your stovetop or your oven. Doing it over the stovetop is a bit tricky and messy. You must place the eggplant directly over the burner flame and carefully turn it until it is blackened and soft all the way around (including the ends). It is a bit easier to use your oven – to do this, remove the bottom panel of the oven (that covers the flame) and cover the whole burner with tin foil (be sure the flame can still come out the sides). You should also put tin foil or a large pan in the bottom of the oven to catch the eggplant juices. If you don’t protect your oven, you’ll spend all day cleaning it - otherwise your apartment will smell like “burning” for a long time. Once your oven is protected, you can light it, and place the eggplants on the oven rack at its lowest position. Adjust the oven flame as needed and turn eggplants until they are blackened and soft.
Variations: A very popular “creamy” variation on this recipe is made using mayonnaise. For this option, omit oil and vinegar. Instead, add 1 Tbs of mayo at a time until you like the flavor and consistency of the salad (everyone uses a different amount). For a fresher flavor, use the original recipe with green onion instead of regular onion and replace the vinegar with lemon juice. Very tasty.
The recipe from our online Pofta Buna book for Zacusca is wrong, so here's a replacement. I have no idea how true or tasty it is!
Servings: 8-10
Ingredients:
| 1 | Eggplant (large) | 1 |
| 1 | Onion | 1 |
| 3-4 | garlic cloves (optional) | 3-4 |
| 2 Tbs | Oil | 2 Tbs |
| 1 tsp | Vinegar | 5 ml |
| To taste | Salt | To taste |
| To taste | Pepper | To taste |
Instructions:
1. Roast eggplant over an open flame until blackened all over (don’t forget the ends).
2. Place blackened eggplants in cold water to cool them quickly. As soon as they are cool enough to handle, peel them and rinse off any bits of charred skin. (If they sit too long in their blackened skin the flesh will begin to taste bitter and burned).
3. Place clean eggplants in a colander to drain for 10 min.
4. Chop eggplant very fine with a wooden or stainless steel knife. Put it back in the colander to drain 10 min (or until its done dripping).
5. While eggplant is draining, finely chop onion and garlic (optional).
6. When eggplant is ready, transfer to a large bowl (not metal). Add chopped onion, garlic (if using), vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. If using mayonnaise, add now and blend well. Taste again and adjust as needed. Serve cold.
Notes: This spread can be found EVERYWHERE in Romania and it is delicious served with bread, veggies or eaten plain. If you are in a hurry, you can find eggplant in jars in most supermarkets. Or if you make your own, it freezes well. It is well worth roasting your own eggplants for the good flavor. Here are some tips:
To roast the eggplants outside, you can use a grill (just place the eggplants low over the flames and cook – turning frequently – until blackened and soft), or you can roast them directly on hot coals. To use the hot coals, wait for the fire to die down and consolidate the coals. Place the eggplants directly on the coals. Turn the eggplants every 10 min or so (depending on how hot your coals are) until they are soft and blackened all the way around.
To roast the eggplant inside, you can use your stovetop or your oven. Doing it over the stovetop is a bit tricky and messy. You must place the eggplant directly over the burner flame and carefully turn it until it is blackened and soft all the way around (including the ends). It is a bit easier to use your oven – to do this, remove the bottom panel of the oven (that covers the flame) and cover the whole burner with tin foil (be sure the flame can still come out the sides). You should also put tin foil or a large pan in the bottom of the oven to catch the eggplant juices. If you don’t protect your oven, you’ll spend all day cleaning it - otherwise your apartment will smell like “burning” for a long time. Once your oven is protected, you can light it, and place the eggplants on the oven rack at its lowest position. Adjust the oven flame as needed and turn eggplants until they are blackened and soft.
Variations: A very popular “creamy” variation on this recipe is made using mayonnaise. For this option, omit oil and vinegar. Instead, add 1 Tbs of mayo at a time until you like the flavor and consistency of the salad (everyone uses a different amount). For a fresher flavor, use the original recipe with green onion instead of regular onion and replace the vinegar with lemon juice. Very tasty.
The recipe from our online Pofta Buna book for Zacusca is wrong, so here's a replacement. I have no idea how true or tasty it is!
For zacusca, a Romanian recipe for a great hors d'ouevre, we use sunflower oil, onions, red peppers, carrots, and tomatoes. This is a mild pepper spread that is great for a quick snack when spread on bread.
1 qt sunflower oil
2 kg onions
50 long red peppers
3 kg carrots
4 kg of tomatoes
Finely shred the carrots, onions, and peppers. Crush the tomatoes. Put the onions, carrots, and peppers in a pan to simmer slowly. Then add the crushed tomato and simmer until the oil rises to the top. Salt to taste. Can be bottled and conserved for months.
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