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In her provocative book Café Europa , Slavenka Drakulic explains that Eastern European “people were forced to jump from a village into a city, to make the giant leap from feudalism to communism, without the time or education to develop a civic society and all its values and habits, from the concept of private property to human rights…” (36-37). This coerced urbanization resulted in country folk bringing the country to the city. In Lupeni, evidences of this history are still seen in the interaction of peasant culture with city life…or heard in the rhythmic clopping of horse-drawn wagons down the main street, carrying all manner of farmer and cargo right alongside the cars. While walking with friends along the main road a couple evenings ago, I heard the customary clopping but soon stopped to watch in astonishment as two beautiful unbridled horses ambled across the street, through a hedge of bushes, across the sidewalk in front of us, and into the adjacent park. What?! Returning down th...

There are just as many, if not more, stray dogs as when I was here last. Bucharest has two million stray dogs, and I’ve heard from a few sources now that dogs from the city are captured and released in this region. Regardless of where they are coming from, the dogs are clearly demonstrating the principle of multiplication! I’ve seen big dogs, little dogs, dirty dogs, sick dogs, maimed dogs, mating dogs, puppy dogs – and all in the city. In Oman, Muscat was plagued by feral cats, waiting like bloodhounds for scraps, climbing onto restaurant tables to pull off anything uneaten, lying out like flea-ridden carpets on the pavement, ambling closer with that starved eye. Here, the dogs are similarly pitiful and would eat pumpkin seeds if given the opportunity, but at least the Omani felines didn’t run in packs at night. Mosquitoes also fall into this category of gross multiplication and proliferation. I accumulated some 40 bites just on my arms over the course of a week. One of my Armenian ap...

“She’s apparently been stomping around the mountains over there for the last four weeks, but what is she actually doing ?” You are not alone if you have this wondering, because I am still discovering the answer to this question…and will continue discovering it until the day I leave! You will see my work unfold through these posts over the upcoming months, but for now, I’ll make some brief observations on returning to the Fundatia. I think NGO work can be legitimately described as organized chaos. Being here as a volunteer has been completely different than being here as a student. During the first two weeks, I felt that I was suspended in a giant nebulae, trying to find my footing in such a new capacity. I have been simultaneously bewildered, energized, overwhelmed, and inspired. I’ve felt extremely weak and incredibly strong. All these feelings have been part of an adjustment process, a daily re-learning of this place. New Horizons is growing exponentially, and as I have come to join ...

Within my first week of being here, I joined a trip into the mountains with Tibi (an FNO staff person and Regional IMPACT Coordinator) and IMPACT kids from the Jiu Valley. I was in a fog of jet-lag and cultural re-entry, but since I came back to Romania with a heart for IMPACT and building relationships with IMPACT kids, I decided to pull out my hiking boots and leave the rest of my luggage unpacked. It was the best thing I could have done. Picture this: climbing mountains with 12 Romanian kids ranging from age 11 to 22, only one of whom could speak English; prodigious amounts of white bread; exhaustive use of non-verbal communication; sleeping in a tent with the youngest darling of the group, Isabela, who wondered anxiously if my “snoring” would keep her awake; afternoon downpours; a highly sketchy outhouse; the same pants for three days; thinking the trip was just overnight but discovering it was actually 2 nights and 3 days; talking to myself in English just for the sake of hearing ...

For those of you who were beginning to wonder if I had been chased by a pack of dogs beyond reach of civilization or had another unfortunate encounter with Romanian sausages, rest assured that no such thing has happened – yet! Last Saturday, I did unceremoniously force down a slab of slanina grilled over a fire in the mountains, and though said traditional Romanian delicacy is literally a chunk of pure meatless fat, acculturation sometimes means just swallowing it! Unbelievably, I’ve been in Romania for 4 weeks and am still stunned to actually...be here! Figuring out how to choose some thoughts and words for a public blog has often left me staring out the window. My first conundrum for this blog has been the diversity of audience. Because I deeply value the unique relationships I have with each of you, it's important to me that my writing allows all of you to access and be welcomed into this journey. How can I best do that?! I'm just not sure. My greatest obstacle to writing,...

The Jiu Valley is a paradox of permanence and change. In a half hour, I watch heavy clouds slide over the mountain tops, seeping fog down the mountain tresses and pressing darkness against the afternoon sun. Thunder echoes across Lupeni, pounding lightening bolts over the eastern edge of the city and in the foothills. The warm breeze of a few minutes ago is swept into confusion, blowing my hair against my face. The streets are suddenly less full; children scream and run. Visibly the rain approaches, folding the city beneath grey sheets. Wide-thrown drops begin to wet my skin as I watch, mesmerized. In this moment, I am invisible. I am an observer listening intently for every sound, forgetting to breathe, and completely spellbound. Endings merge with beginnings, waiting coalesces with realizing -- and for a moment, my thoughts cease as I feel again rain on the other side of the world.

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted, and behold, service was joy. -Rabindranath Tagore

I AM BACK!! I am back. I have been in the Jiu Valley for nearly 24 hours and am still soaking in the reality. Thank you to all of you who have been so faithful to hold me up in prayer. All the divine appointments during my travel here made their locations on time, and as I prayed my way through each place, I felt the numerous prayers that had already gone before me. When I was flying toward Chicago and watching the square miles of cropland blur through my tears, I felt literally lifted up by the hands of so many of you who love me and deeply believe in me. Saying good-bye at the airport to the two people who are embedded in my very being was truly a rending, but no matter what I do or do not accomplish here in Romania, being so loved by them and by all of you will continue to be the most abiding blessing in my life. In being loved, we find the courage to be ourselves -- to try, to fail, and to fly. For this post, I want to mention three people who were clearly positioned throug...