bradul "american"

Vine Craciunul! E perioada cadourilor si a impodobirii. E vanzoleala si agitatie mare peste tot.

Eu, asa cum imi e stilul, incep sa cumpar cadouri mult inainte de luna decembrie. Nu ma lasa sufletul sa dau toti banutii [multi] deodata, intr-o singura zi. Asa ca din punctul cadourilor de vedere totul e aranjat in luna decembrie. Mai raman, eventual, cateva lucruri ce stiu ca vor fi la mari reduceri cu apropierea Craciunului.

In Decembrie imi ramane doar sa cumpar bradul. Si stresul nu e atat de mare ca in Timi, unde greu gaseai bradut care sa fie la un pret acceptabil si sa aibe ceva mai multe crengi. Am fost surprinsa sa constat ca aici nu exista brazi golasi. Toti sunt frumosi si plini plini de crengi. Mai mare dragul sa treci printre ei si sa alegi unul. Preturile difera in functie de soi si de inaltimea bradului, nicidecum de cate crengi are.

Asa ca, cumparatul bradului nu e mare lucru. Mai mare mi-a fost surprinderea cand a trebuit sa caut suport de brad. Stiam ce-mi trebuie: sa fie din metal si sa aibe trei picioare. Pornesc prin magazine la cautat suport. Nu vad nici un suport de genul celui de acasa din Timisoara. Suportul brazilor care erau in magazine erau acoperiti cu ceva material. Ma uit sub material si vad un soprt mare de plastic, cu o forma ciudata. Intr-un final renunt sa caut, ganadindu-ma ca nu caut in magazinele care trebuie.

Acasa imi intreb sotul unde ar trebui sa caut suport de brad. El, ridica din umeri. In viata lui nu a sarbatorit Craciunul. Stia ca ne trebuie suport si ca trebuie sa ma uit si dupa ceva fustita pentru brad.

-Fustita?? E acelasi sens ca si fusta pe care o imbraci??

-Da!

-Fusta la brad?

-Da. Iar bradul trebuie udat ca sa nu se usuce asa repede.

-Udat? Unde sa-l ud? Cum vine asta?

Deja lucrurile incepusera sa se complice. Nu mi-am putut imagina unde vine pusa fust si de ce ii trebuie bradului fustita. Cum sa ud bradul cu suportul pe care eu il aveam in minte?

In fine! In final o sun pe D. care e romanca de mult stabilita in US si o intreb ce imi trebuie pentru brad si unde sa caut. A inceput sa rada cand mi-a auzit intrebarile, dar mi-a inteles nestiinta. Mi-a explicat ca sunt mici sanse sa gasesc suport cu trei picioare. Aici suporturile sunt mari, rotunde si din plastic. Tulpina bradului intra intr-o "oala", loc unde pui apa. Si da, imi trebuie o fustita ce vine pusa in jurul acelui suport. Mi-a spus si unde sa le caut.

Pornesc la cautat suport. Gasesc.....mari si urate mai sunt. Nu ma mir de ce imi trebuie fustita. Fusta acopera acel suport si da o imagine placuta bradului.

Am cumparat suportul si fustia (e rosie ca focul sa-mi surada norocul).

Sunt super multumita de cum arata bradul meu [american] ;)

being prepare

S-a dus toamna. Stiu, o sa ziceti ca frigul a venit de ceva vreme, iar decembrie e deja la mijloc, ba chiar pe terminate. De acord cu voi.

Daca m-am mutat la casa, am parte de spatii verzi, copaci multi si batrani si deci multe frunze uscate in perioada toamnei. Personal am avut ceva munca cu frunzele astea in curte. Acum le maturam, pana seara erau la loc.

Deci, cum nu poti tine pasul cu caderea frunzelor, pana mai ieri inca mai calcam pe frunze uscate. Nu ma plang pentru ca de cateva ori au venit niste omuleti care au suflat frunzele de pe spatiile verzi din fata caselor si le-au dus nu stiu unde.

Ei, dar azi, am fost intampinata de un munte urias de frunze ce asteptau cuminti sa fie "supte" de o masina nu foarte mare si duse departeee. Uitandu-ma in jur nu am mai vazut nici pic de frunza. Totul e la locul lui, doar ca frunzele uscate nu mai sunt nici in copaci nici pe jos.

Si pentru ca tot vorbesc de intretinere, acum cateva zile au venit altii care au taiat crengile copacilor ce atingeau acoperisul caselor. Eu m-am bucurat, dar cred ca veveritele nu au fost la fel de incantate ca mine.

Suntem gata sa asteptam iarna cu a ei zapada.

Si cand zic gata, inseamna ca toata lumea e pregatita la propriu. Americanii astia sunt foarte prevazatori. Cum s-a anuntat ca e posibil sa ninga sau ca vine inghetul, cei responsabili au si aruncat cu sare pe trotuare, la intrarea in magazine, in statiile de autobuz.... ce mai, peste tot. Si ce daca nu ninge si deci nu zapada, nu ghetus? Dar avem sare peste care pasim si poate ne mai sucim si glezna calcand pe bulgarasii de sare.

Totul e luat in serios - s-a contractat o firma care sa ne curete cararile si parcarile de zapada. Totul e planificat din timp. Nu lasam sa ne ia iarna prin surprindere............de parca iarna te poate lua prin surprindere!:)))

getting lost

I recently moved from an apartment in the city to a townhouse in the suburbs. I wouldn't exactly call where I moved a village in the US but to me it seems like a "modern" village in Romania. It is a big change for a girl who lived all her life in a city and in an apartment building.

During communist rule in my country all the buildings were grey and looked exactly alike. After the revolution people felt the need to distinguish themselves from one another. So they began to do little things to their apartments like changing the types of windows and doors or the color of the trim.

But the biggest changes appeared in the new "modern" villages close to the city where people would build their own homes. There you see houses next to one another but with roofs and walls painted in different colors: one house may have a red roof with yellow walls next to another house with a blue roof and white walls. And you will never see a house with the same design and shape as the one next door. The houses now are also very big, something that we did not have under communist rule. After so many years looking alike, the goal now is to be unique and different.

So when you go to a suburb in Romania you will be shocked by the mix of design. I always saw this as normal, but when we were living in Romania my American hubby always used to tell me how ugly it looked. I didn't agree with him then, thinking that it looked nice to see people free to design their home in any way they pleased.

And I still do not agree with him. I like where I live now but in my new suburb everything looks the same. I mean everything is the same!! Red brick walls, gray roofs, white windows, white pillars, all the same height, and with the same type of landscape. Wherever you look you see the same picture. I'm not questioning whether it is nice or not- I have a more practical concern.

One day I came home on a different bus and I ended up in a different part of the neighborhood. I thought I recognized where I was and I knew I was pretty close to my home. There are street signs so I thought I could figure it out...no big deal. The streets are curvy and intersect so, to my surprise the streets signs didn't clearly show me what street I was on. I stood in the middle of the street and looked in all directions thinking I would see a landmark. What I saw instead were lots and lots of houses that looked just like mine. I started to feel frustrated and confused. Are you kidding me?! I was thinking "How silly is it that I can get lost in the middle of my own neighborhood". I picked a direction and started to walk, looking for any little thing I recognized. But everything looked the same so I didn't get to my house. There was no one on the streets to ask. So I turned around, hoping to see a person who could help me. I was back in the same spot, without seeing anybody and was getting disparate about the situation. I couldn't believe this. Finally someone walked by and I asked him where is my street. He laughed and told me that people always get confused here. That sure made me feel better. I didn't seem so stupid! A few minutes later I finally found my house.

I am still a little worried each time I leave my house that I might not return.

A little touch

What are some of my experiences during my time volunteering at Hospital?

When visitors first come to the Hospital, they must check in at the front desk. I greet them and ask them why they are here. Usually they are here to visit a patient. So I look up the patient's name in the computer and tell them the room number. They then have to sign in, show me their ID card and then I give them a wristband.

Seems simple enough, yet you cannot imagine the difficulties this often presents. Some of them refuse to wear the wristband. Others don't have any picture ID. Others make a signature instead of reading the instructions and simply writing their name legibly. Some mumble complaining about the procedures and then say "why it is so hard to get into the Hospital?". So I really have to be prepared to patiently answer to all these questions or complaints .

But I can never prepare myself for the most difficult situations: those who come to visit their child in the ICU or ER. The first thing I notice is the trembling in their hands when they sign in. I feel such pity for them and wish there was something I could do to help them.

I don't know the details, but I can see the fear in their face. The only thing I can do for them is offer a little comfort as I hold their hand in mine for a few seconds. I then see a little smile and a "thank you" in their eyes.

These moments are so emotional for me. Each time I thank God that my family and I are all healthy.

volunteering- only doing what others don't like to do?

I started volunteering at Hospital in April of this year. I asked to work in the psychiatric unit with the idea that I could use my education, and with the hope that I would learn more about the differences between a psychiatrist's approach and a therapist's approach to treatment.

The patients were admitted for just 3 to 7 days. Rarely did some stay more than a week. Usually though some would return after a week or so. Each patient has their own room, which is nice. But there is little interaction. They have breakfast, and then, if they want to they may participate in some group discussions. The rest of their day includes lunch, the doctor visits them and the nurses give them their medication.

At first, I didn't have much to do. I worked there mid morning until mid afternoon. I hardly ever saw any "crazy" behavior. I heard that sometimes patient behaviors were worse during the evenings.

But I was there to help and so I asked myself "What can I do to help the nurses and to help myself too?" A month had gone by and I was feeling frustrated because I felt like I was waisting my time. And even though I was volunteering that didn't mean that my time wasn't valuable. To find an excuse I started thinking that maybe "volunteering" means that you do nothing. Could this be true??

I tried to be patient, and give myself a little more time to become acquainted with the hospital. But nothing changed. I continued to walk around the unit, went up and down the elevator bringing the patients their belongings from security and did little things here and there for the nurses. Ok, I was helping the nurses a bit, but I wasn't getting back anything for me.

After a few months of volunteering at the psychiatric unit I "sang out" to the volunteer coordinator and requested something more stimulating. She sent me to an administrative department where I stapled papers for 4 hours. And then she had me pack up someone's stuff in boxes. Are you kidding me!!!

Now I told myself that volunteering [there] means to do what the others don't want to do.

But I was not willing to accept that. So upset and disappointed I "sang out" again to the coordinator. Finally she gave me some administrative things to do where I was stimulated, such as dealing with personnel files, making phone calls and organizing appointments. And a few hours a day I also work at the front desk where I interact with lots of different people.

I can honestly say that now I look forward to going to volunteer at the Hospital.

Looking

Looking and looking and looking for a job. This is a full time job! Job searching is new each day, but it becomes boring. Worse though is the accumulating frustration.

It's been a year since I began my job search. Some days I am filled with hope, other days I am just applying routinely. Overall though I remain optimistic and I know that my job is out there waiting for me.

The other day, I had a phone interview with a recruiter, and he asked me about my skills for the particular job. At the end of our conversation, he told me to call him when I get more experience in the US. I was angry and I was not prepared to let that go. I told him that the particular job was not one which would be difficult for me. Heck, it was just a position as an HR assistant. I do not need experience in the US to do this job. I told the guy that I am a quick learner. I told him that even when you change companies you need a little time just to learn the new company rules. It was as if I was talking to myself. All he did was repeat the idea again that I should call him back when something in my resume changes.

I felt frustration and anger. And I am still angry. But is it with him or with me? How can I get [american] experience if that is what everyone is telling I need in order to be hired here?

Also, I really don't like the feeling I get when someone asks me "where do you work?". I feel ashamed when I tell them I am a housewife. Here it may be ok to be a housewife, but it is not something I am used to saying nor is it something I am accustomed to doing. Though now I seem to have become one, and, in all honesty, it isn't so bad.

Surrounded

A quick trip to NYC and I came back with so many impressions:

*beautiful?

*crowded

*really tall buildings

*narrow streets

*alive

*noisy

*neon lights

*Broadway

*the shops

After just 4 hours by train, I walked up the stairs and I found myself surrounded - by lots of people and huge buildings.

Can you imagine that in such a big city people wait in line for taxi - that is civilization.

I got into one of the thousands of yellow cabs (why are they all yellow?) and to my surprise despite the civility, the driver's seat was surrounded by thick bullet-proof glass. I was a little scared - does this mean that the city is dangerous?

Driving there looks crazy. Too many cars on very narrow streets surrounded by lots (and I mean lots) of pedestrians.

The hotel had a gigantic lobby but the rooms were tiny. I heard this is normal for NYC.

Walking on the streets made me feel like I was walking through a tunnel. The streets are lined with huge buildings so that you barely see the sky.

8.3 million on 790 square meters. Crowded in the morning, crowded in the afternoon, crowded at night.

The stores are always open!!! You can shop around the clock. :) Everything seemed BIG! Small candy M&Ms have their own 3 level store in the middle of Times Square. Can you imagine? All different colored candies, and then towels, jewelry, dishes, ornaments, bags, clothes....You name it, they have it, with "M&M" on it. M&Ms are my favorite candies.

I escaped from the tunnel with a walk through Central Park. I only saw a small part of it :( But what I saw was incredible. Lots of ponds, fountains, woodlands, baseball fields, playgrounds and acres of lawns.

A visit to NYC isn't complete without seeing a play on Broadway. So I retreated into the Gershwin Theater where I let myself fly to the land of Oz through the music, costumes and scenery of "Wicked".

Everyone told me to visit NYC because it is so so beautiful. Was it really beautiful? Hmm, maybe, but it is definitely a unique place.

If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out (Cat Stevens)

What are the cultural differences between Romania and the US? Everybody always asks me that question and to answer it, I really have to look at some things that have been hard for me to get used to...

One thing that sticks out in my mind is the way in which Romanians often accept "NO" as an answer without objection. They will not "sing out" in public, either for fear of the confrontation or the fear of bringing attention to themselves. They may complain to friends and family, but only after the fact and without achieving a resolution. The fact is that we are afraid to "sing out" for our rights and needs. Unfortunately, it seems like our cultural norm is to be quiet and powerless.

But now I live in a country where people are very aware of their rights and are not afraid to demand them.

I remember when I first moved here my mother-in-law went to the store to return a jar of pickles, because they tasted bad. I followed her, quite curious to see how this "scene" would take place. I imagined that there would be argument and lots of yelling. So I stood a little behind embarrassed at the potential confrontation. But NO! The "event" went quite smoothly. She told the cashier that the pickles were bad and she wanted another jar. She got a simple "OK" and that was it. We left the store with a new jar of pickles in hand. I didn't know what to think...

But recently I bought a pair of shoes. After more than a month (the period of time to return them as stated on receipt) they started to tear apart. I was sad because they were nice shoes and I knew that I couldn't take them back. But my American husband suggested that I go to the store, tell them what happened and ask how they can help me. I laughed at his suggestion because the return period had expired and I thought the store manager would send me home the way I came.

Anyway, I decided to try my luck and go to the store, though I was a little bit nervous about the potential conversation between the manager and me. Before I left I prepared myself for a confrontation with a "negative" manager. I practiced my speech, prepared myself to be calm yet ready to "sing out" for my rights in an assertive way....

So off I went to the store, and asked to speak with the manager. I told her my story, and before I could even finish, she offered me a store credit or a new pair of shoes. At first I didn't quite understand her because I was focused on my arguments. I asked her to repeat herself, just to be sure that I heard her correctly. I left the store more relaxed, and with a new pair of shoes. And also with the realization that no one will "attack" me for "singing out" for my rights.

Though I have learned from my mother-in-law the art of demanding one's rights as a customer, and I am learning to not be afraid of doing so, I still feel a little nervous "singing out". Why? because I grew up in a society where we did not "sing out".

Veveritele ...frumoase???

Nu imi plac veveritele!!!

Si eu am fost la Buzias. Si eu am ciocanit nucile unele de altele ca veveritele sa vina la mine. Si ma bucuram de fiecare data cand veneau si ziceam ca sunt dragute. Si imi placea sa merg vara, cand caldurile erau mari, la Buzias sa ma relaxez si sa vad veveritele. Si le strigam pe "numele" (de cod) Mariana. Pe toate le cheama Mariana!! Ce nebunie.

Nu stiu de ce imi placeau atunci si nu imi mai plac acum. Poate pentru ca eram mica si toti imi spuneau ce frumoase sunt [veveritele]. Si "trebuia" sa le vad frumoase, micute si dragute. Si am crezut ca sunt frumoase. Uite cum te "prostesc" adultii si profita de [ne]cunostinta ta.

Yec! Azi le vad zilnic. Pe strada, prin copaci, pe gardul din curte, in curte.... Sunt multe! Si de cate ori le vad, le vad tot mai urate.

Sunt niste sobolani cu coada stufoasa. Pe bune!!

Stiu, o sa ziceti ca exagerez!! Sau nu.

PS: Cand aveti ocazia, uitati-va atent la ele (in special din fata) cu mintea de adult, neinfluentati de perceptia altora desigur. Ce vedeti?

Do you have change?

Is it funny when you act like a child when you are an adult!? It happened to me and believe me it was very embarrassing at the time but is a funny story now.

Being in a new country I have had to learn to deal with a new type money. It sounds like no big deal, but it definitely was a big big deal for me.

In the beginning I asked my husband to teach me all about the coins. Though I learned them at that time, I didn't have the chance to use this new knowledge because most of the time we used credit cards.

7 months after my first "coin" lesson I went shopping. I purchased something for $4.65 and so I gave to the cashier a $10 bill. The cashier saw that my wallet was full of coins so she asked me to give her 65 cents. I took a big breath and looked at my palm filled with coins. I realized I had forgotten the value of the coins. I was so embarrassed when I told to the cashier to help herself from my palm. I left the store embarrassed, frustrated and without any excuse for my stupidity.

Now, a year later, I don't ask anyone to help themselves, but I still pause, needing a little time to think which coin is worth how much.

Letting go

In the last year I moved 3 times. I already know how to pack, to fold, to unpack....Now, knocking at the door, is yet another move, but hopefully this will be the last one for a few years.

Have you ever been in love with a city?

What I am talking about?....My feeling that I have become a Washingtonian and I cannot leave it. It is craziness, isn't it? Is it possessiveness for a city? I thought that I "treated" this need to possess somethings! :(

Look at me. The other day I spent hours trying to renew my Washington ID card. When I know that I'm moving to another state.....so why insist on having a Washington ID? Why let myself get frustrated with all the hassles (sitting in line for nearly 3 hours, 2 days in a row)? Just because I want to say that I am from Washington DC!

But because renewing the ID didn't work I gave up "fighting" with the bureaucrats.

So, I am looking to the future in a better light. A new house, making new friends, finding new things to do, discovering new stores......I am starting to really like the idea and am excited about having a "suburban" family life.

Virginia, here I come.

I am from Arlington, Virginia - just 10 minutes to Washington DC;)

PS: The welcome sign in Virginia is the pineapple. Some people have this pineapple on their drapes, or at their front door. Don't worry, not in my house ;)

Fellowship

Whether to be a bystander or a person who takes action?

Theoretically, a bystander is an individual who is less likely to offer help in an emergency situation. The greater of number of bystanders, the less likely it is that any one of them will help.

I have a good example of this.

I was riding the metro the other afternoon when a guy stood up from his seat, and moved towards a young blond woman. She was sitting on the outside seat. The guy approached her, and asked her if she would move over. She did. So he took the seat and started to talk to her. Unfortunately I couldn't hear what he was saying to her or how she dealt with him. But it was obvious to all that she was not interested in what he had to say, and she was distressed. Her face was red and she was uncomfortable in the situation.

Everybody in the metro knew what was going on, but nobody interfered. We (Jonathan and me) were wondering why she did not move seats, or why she did not tell him to move. I thought that if I was in her shoes I would just tell him that I am not interested in having a conversation with anyone. I was making up scenarious instead of doing something to help her.

We passed two stops and then, in an instant, another young woman got up from her seat, walked over to the blond, and started to talk with her as if they were friends, acting surprised to see her and speaking to her in a very loud voice...like they had not seen each other in a long, long time. She then asked the guy, very politely, to move and let her sit near her "friend".

For just a moment I almost believed that the two girls knew each other. She just took action and helped the blond girl. I admired this girl a lot!

"Where all think alike, no one thinks very much" Walter Lippman

We've Only Just Begun (The Carpenters) - 1 an si la multi ani

Hei, acum un an am calcat pentru prima data pe "pamantul unde visele devin realitate"..... Eu cu ale mele vise pamantesti: de a prinde noi radacini, a-mi intemeia o familie, a iubi si a fi iubita, a invata si a ma adapta la o noua cultura cu bune si cu rele.

Imi amintesc cu drag de primul contact cu LAX - aeroportul din Los Angeles, unde a trebuit sa stau o ora (dupa 13 ore de zburat cu avionul, dupa difernta orara) pana mi-au luat amprentele si m-au lasat sa merg "libera" pe pamantul american. De la aeroport ne-a asteptat o masina care ne-a dus in San Clemente la mama soacra. Rupta de oboseala, am incercat sa stau treaza sa vad ce "minunatii"vad de pe geamul masinii. Dar am ridicat din umeri si m-am pus efectiv sa dorm.......cat vedeai cu ochii era doar o mare intindere de pamant galben, cu ceva palmieri pe marginea soselei si cateva cladiri scunde in departari. Pe bune, nimic interesant. Ba chiar mi-am intrebat sotul daca asta e America? Nu arata ca in povestirile descrise de altii.....

In fine, tot drumul l-am dormit - am uitat si de griji si de anxietate, de nou si necunoscut, de teama ca nu stiu bine engleza, si de faptul ca ma duceam sa stau pentru cateva luni cu soacra....Am dormit dusaaa! ;)

M-am trezit in fata casei, intr-un loc plin de soare, liniste si flori. Am remarcat ca toate casele sunt joase in stil spaniol si au acelasi design - nu ca la noi care mai de care sa o faca mai inalta, mai colorata, astfel incat sa iti sara in ochi de la distanta.

Faptul ca avusesem sansa sa imi cunosc soacra in Timisoara, cu un an inainte, a redus din stres. Nu imi amintesc cat de mult am socializat in acea zi cu ea, dar stiu ca era dupamasa acolo si ca eu abia imi puteam tine ochii deschisi.

Am petrecut 2 luni in California - 2 luni de miere, imi place mie sa le consider. Fiind aproape de Ocean, de plaje si de oameni fara griji, m-am simtit rasfatata din concediu. Jonathan m-a dus peste tot in zona si m-am bucurat de fiecare val, nisip, pala de vant, fluture, delfin, veverita intalnite la fiecare pas. Of, iubesc ata de mult mirosul Oceanului!!

Imi amintesc ce greu mi-a fost sa ma descurc in magazine - din cauza variatiilor pe acelasi produs din aceeasi gama. E frustrant! De exemplu am petrecut mai bine de 15 minute sa ma decid asupra unei acetone. Ce sa mai vorbim de alte decizii mai importante. ;)

Apoi, dupa atat relax si atatea locuri frumoase ne-am mutat in Washington, DC. Adevarul e, ca in ultimele saptamani de CA incepusem sa jinduiesc dupa viata agitata data de oras, dupa tramvaie si autobuze, zgomote si forfota.

Aici, inca din avion cand am vazut pomii verzi si raul mi-am spus ca seamana cu Timisoara. Si sentimentul asta il am si in prezent :) chiar daca Bega noastra e cu muuult mai mica decat Potomac river de aici.

In Washington, mai greu mi-a fost sa folosesc metrourile, in special sa schimb liniile de metoru. Mi-era mult mai confortabil sa folosesc autobuzul, ca vedeam pe unde "merg". Acum mi se pare asa banal.... Inca mai am probleme cu comandatul in restaurante - chiar si cu ajutorul lui Jonathan (care imi spune "Rox chestia asta iti place") imi ia ceva timp pana comand.

Intre timp mi-am facut "buletin de oras", am cunsocut ceva romani cu care tin legatura. Mai socializez cu colegi de-ai lui Jonathan de la lucru. De fapt, ies in lumea necunoscuta pentru a o cunoaste mai bine. Si din fericire sunt atatea cai care societatea asta iti ofera pentru a "cunoaste".

Iar ca anul sa se termine cu "achievements", ne-am cumparat casutza noastra si masina ..... Radacinile noastre incep sa creasca, sa se ramifice si deci sa se "maturizeze". :) Sunt asa de mandra de noi!! :)

Daca ma uit bine inapoi si la prezent, constat cu placere ca "visele" de acum un an au prins contur. Si e asa de bine!!!

Poti sa crezi ca a trecut deja un an?

"It is possible to fly without motors, but not without knowledge and skill" (Willbur Wright)

Is Washington a more secure city than others?

Waw, sunt socata de ce s-a intamplat azi in Washington, DC.

Smithsonian museums ofera tutoror intrare libera la mai bine de 19 muzee. Muzeul meu preferat e Holocaust museum, muzeu care atrage o multime de turisti. Imi place sa imi petrec timpul acolo, sa ascult povestirile celor care au supravietuit.....De fiecare data ies trista, dar bucuroasa ca asa ceva nu mai e acum.

Azi un barbat a intrat in Holocaust museum si a inceput sa traga cu pusca - se zice la TV ca era o pusca de vanatoare. Doi oameni au fost raniti. "Agresorul" grav impuscat si el. Au fost dusi la spital. Recunosc ca deja ma intrebasem daca agresorul e arab! Nu mi-a venit sa cred cand au anuntat ca tipul care a atacat e alb si are 89 de ani.

Toti vizitatorii au fost evacuati din muzeu, iar martori carora li s-a luat interviu au fost multumiti de rapiditatea cu care securitatea muzeului a raspuns atacului. Au multumit acestor angajati de calmul cu care au organizat evacuarea muzeului. S-a confirmat ca securitatea care lucreaza in Holocaust museum e antrenata ptr asemnea evenimente, stiindu-se ca acest muzeu e amenintat inca de la deschiderea lui. Nu am stiut asta, dar daca ei zic asa o fi! Explicatia ar fi ca sunt o multime de persoane care nu cred ca aceste evenimente au avut loc, care sunt de acord cu ideile lui Hitler.....

Dupa cateva ore, la TV a aparut anuntul "Security guard killed during museum shooting". A fost cel mai greu lucru de acceptat. Adica am simtit ca e prea de tot, prea REAL!!

Oamenii au reactionat imediat si au pus flori, au aprins lumanari in memoriam, la intrarea in muzeu. Pe bune, acesti oameni stiu sa reactioneze imediat. Nu asteapta sa treaca timpul si apoi sa jeleasca, sau sa ajute.

Toata ziua, la stirile TV, s-a comentat despre eveniment. La un moment dat, prezentatorului nu ii venea sa creada ca tocmai in Washington DC si mai ales la 10 min departare de Casa Alba cineva are curajul sa iasa in lume si sa isi manifeste furia intr-un mod extrem de agresiv. Sincer, nu am inteles ce are Washington-ul mai presus de restul oraselor. Adica, de ce aici ar trebui sa fie liniste si pace, pe cand in alte parti e "de asteptat" sa fie impuscaturi? Nu sunt de acord cu afirmatia tipului. :(

Stii, de mic ai invatat ca trebuie sa fii vigilent, ca e bine sa te uiti in jurul tau si sa fi pe faza la tot ce se intampla, in ideea de a te proteja. Come on! Ce viata e aia? Adica merg intr-un magazin, sau intr-un parc si in loc sa traiesc momentul si sa ma bucur de ceea ce vad, eu ar trebui sa stau stresata, cu ochii in patru si sa studiez oamenii care ma inconjoara. Si ce vad? Cupluri cu copii, persoane singure, batrani, negrii, albi, arabi, asiatici, scunzi, inalti......Si? Cum sau Ce sa gandesc despre fiecare? Sau ar trebui sa fiu mai "precauta" in preajma arabilor? sau poate a negrilor?? Care natie e mai agresiva, mai razbunatoare......?

Uite ca de data asta un alb la 90 de ani iese din tiparele "securitatii" invatate sau preluate din realitatea altora.....

Jonathan imi spunea, cand ne pregateam sa ne mutam in US, ca nu doar in US se intampla grazavii pe strada (cum vezi in filme) ci in orice tara e bine sa fii precaut. Precaut in sensul ca nu umblii noaptea pe strazi singura - ceea ce nu prea faceam nici in Timisoara, oras pe care eu il consider inca safe; sau nu umblii cu capul plecat ca sa arati ca ti-e teama.......Astea au fost sfaturile lui ;)

Deci, nu iti petreci ziua concentrandu-te in a prezice viitorul tragic dar nici nu intri in mijlocul galcevii.

Sarbatori departe

Cum e sa treaca lucrurile, evenimentele pe langa tine? Prima reactie de a raspunde la intrebare e "depinde". Asa spun si eu.

Nu sunt eu o mare bucatareasa in general, iar cand vine vorba de "tinerea" sarbatorilor eram undeva pe la mijloc, sau si mai sincer la marginea dintre deloc si a face ceva specific sarbatorii respective. Adica, de Pasti nu vopseam nici un ou, dar facem pasca si o singura data am facut oua umplute. Restul pica pe umerii mamii, care facea toate merindele de la A - Z. Iar eu veneam cu "gagiul" si luam pranzul impreuna, ca in familie ;)

Anul asta a fost cu totul si cu totul diferit.

Desi am vrut sa fac pasca, mai mult pentru ca imi place si imi era dor, nu am gasit in orasul asta branza de vaci. Nu e si nu e!!! Am intrebat alti prieteni romani cu ce as putea-o inlocui - de parca o poti inlocui...hahaha. Raspunsul a fost ca intr-adevar nu gasesc la magazinele "normale", dar gasesc la magazinele rusesti si poate la cele grecesti. Ok, am primit raspunsul!! Dar unde sa dau eu de magazine rusesti?? Am mers mai departe cu intrebatul la prieteni americani, care s-au uitat la mine putin ciudat, si mi-au spus ca in Washington nu sunt decat restaurante rusesti. Mda, merci!! Adevarul e ca e plin orasul de restaurante din toate colturile lumii.

M-am reintors la "prietenul" meu care ma ajuta sa gasesc raspunsuri, sa ies din plictiseala si totodata ma ajuta sa uit de notiunea "timp". So, back la Google! ;) Si aflu ca branza mea de vaci e intr-adevar in magazinele rusesti, dar aceste magazine sunt in Virginia state, nu in DC. Si uite asa am renuntat sa mai fac pasca!

Cu inrosirea oualelor e alta poveste. Aici, nu am fost motivata deloc. Nici macar nu mi-am batut capul sa caut vopsea de oua - care oricum nu mi-a iesit in fata ochilor in "alimentarile" in care fac "piata". Lipsa de motivatie a venit de la faptul ca nu am avut cu cine sa ciocnesc :( Prieteni romani prin apropiere nu am, iar Jonathan nu sarbatoreste Pastele, iar de ciocnit oua nici atat. Astfel ca de Pasti nu am facut nimic deosebit - doar o zi normala de weekend.

Intr-un fel am fost trista simtind lipsa sarbatoririi Pastelui alaturi de familie, sau alaturi de prieteni. Mai ales ca am vazut pozele Laviniei. Lavi, care e in Canada, a vopsit ouale, a avut cozonaci (mmmm, am pierdut gustul acestora de ceva vreme) si familia (matusa) alaturi la masa de Pasti.

Jonathan mi-a spus ca atunci cand vom avea copil voi fi mai motivata sa sarbatoresc Pastele in mod traditional. Pana atunci, mai usor e sa adun ceva romani pe langa mine cu care sa petrec sarbatorile.