Campulung

The second day of school arrived a bit early as the English Department had to go to Campulung for a district meeting. It is about an hour away through the mountains. Lovely scenery! The mountains are taller here.

We found the host school and climbed up the stone steps. Half-moons had been worn into them from years of use.

After three hours of being lectured at, the teachers look tired. After the Inspector finished his comments about the year ahead, these three presented their textbooks for schools to buy. Romanian teachers have free rein to choose the text they will use for class from a list that has been approved by the government. Unfortunately, these three need to learn how to capture their audience. Each one handed out plastic bags with catalogs in them and then read the catalog to us word-for-word. It was unfortunate for them that they were given the last time slot. We had been sitting in straight backed chairs for three hours and had not been allowed any sort of a break as yet. They were not excited about their products and lost their audience when they started reading. The third fellow at least chose to only read the last page where the discounts were.

There was no break and it was after noon when the meeting finally let out. I met several interesting people at the meeting and was asked to prepare a presentation about American schools and the Fulbright programs for the May meeting. I promise not to read from the slides! There is a teacher whose brother lives in Saline - a stone's throw from Milan. I met a Peace Corps volunteer from North Carolina who is also teaching English as a Second Language in two schools. The Peace Corps gives six weeks of intense language training. Michael was able to speak in Romanian. I am jealous.

After the meeting several of us had lunch at an outdoor café and then we found the Museum of Wooden Art . It was an excellent ethnographic museum, full of well-preserved wooden tools and implements. The exhibits progress from very early times to the early twentieth century. It is amazing that we are here at all. After looking at the displays of fishing, I am surprised that someone ever caught the first fish. And then cooking could not have been much better. There was a contraption that looked like it was a mill for grinding flour for a single dwelling. Who would have the time!? Can you imagine picking vegetables from wherever, keeping the fire going for heat, catching fish or game to eat, not to mention making cloth and clothing in your spare time. And then there is the little issue of keeping a roof over your head and keeping marauding animals and enemies at bay. It is truly a wonder that we are here today.

Having fun inside the museum. Can you imagine an American museum where you can sit on the exhibits?? We would have this chair and everything else behind glass and off limits to touching. I cannot think of a single museum where you can touch such priceless pieces, much less actually sit in them.

This lovely church has a beautiful tiled roof that sparkles in the sunshine. It is in the center of town. The guide books call it a pseudo-medieval church. I am not sure what that means but it sits quaintly near the square with its back to the mountains. The mosaic tiles on the roof are unforgettable.

We stopped to admire the flowers, both cut and potted. There are flowers to be bought any time of year in Europe. It seems that Europeans like to make their environments prettier places with flowers inside and out. This stall still has beautiful flowers for sale and it is the end of the day and they are all still fresh.

A last look at the Carpathians overlooking Campulung . The town is nestled high up in them alongside the Moldova River. It was once established as a logging town and still maintains that industry.

This fellow came flying past us as we waited for the minibus to go home. He was oblivious to the traffic around him. His horse was having a grand time almost running through the town. The horse looked from side to side as he raced by as if to see all there was to see. He was a solid little pony that looked as strong as an ox, but he was a sweet pony. His eyes met mine and they were friendly eyes, not fierce. The two of them looked like they would be just as at home on the steppes of Russia as they are here in the Carpathians.