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?