Earlier in the day, I had driven another 5 hours from Bucharest to the camp that we are renting for the next two weeks. The camp speaker and his daughter arrived at the airport about 12:30. I picked them up, made a quick McDonald's run to get lunch for them, and then hit the road. The first couple of hours were relatively boring (as boring as driving in Romania can be - nothing like setting the cruise and driving straight down I-75 for 3 hours!). Then we hit the mountains - despite the rain, it was absolutely breathtaking! God did some of His best work when He made this country! Tom took a lot of pictures while I was driving...if I can get some of them, I'll post them next week some time.
Earlier this week, I had fun celebrating my birthday with friends in Bucharest. Dinner at Ruby Tuesday's...yum. Being sung to in public...embarassing. Being sung to again, this time by the Ruby Tuesday's waitstaff...still embarassing, but very funny too (they sang in English, an original song that I wish I could reproduce for you here!). Not having to cook OR pay for dinner...just about as good as it gets!
Tuesday our American counselors arrived to get ready for camp. I enjoyed playing hostess for them at the apartment in Bucharest; that's become my favorite role here. After a brief city tour and a great "authentic" Romanian meal on Tuesday night, Wednesday morning we headed to the train station...the American counselors were joined by their Romanian counterparts for the 5 hour ride. I got them all situated on the train and then waved goodbye (until the next day when I drove up to camp).
Remember all of the cookies from a few weeks ago? They came out of the freezer this week, and they're gone. I pulled out the peanut butter cookies and the chocolate chip cookies when I arrived at camp yesterday...no kidding, 10 dozen cookies were gone in less than 10 minutes! I had sent the others on the train with them the day before, so they were already gone. I hope they ate dinner...
After I dropped Tom & Jessica off at camp and shared my cookies, it was time to head home. Not just for me. For the cows, too. Have you heard phrase "Til the cows come home"? Well, in the two villages closest to camp, that's sometime between 7 and 8 pm. How do I know? Because I followed them home. It's quite a sight to behold. I don't know how the cows from the first village knew it was time to come home, but there they were, wandering down the middle of the street. At every cross street, a couple of them would peal off the herd and head toward their homes, presumably down those cross streets. Somehow, they just know where to go and when it's time to go there. I'm told that you can't change the color or outward appearance of your house until your cow dies; the cow will miss the house and just keep walking.
I miss the city. I miss the people. But it's good to be home, too.
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