Neil, or is it Neil??

I need to be sure that I have a place to stay tomorrow. I called Neil but there was no answer. He is probably out and about and doesn't hear the phone.

Since I have been in Romania I have learned a new technology – text-messaging. Every few weeks I get a prompt on my cell phone that I have one hundred new text messages to use. I never knew how to use this before but Romanian phones don't have voicemail and so this works as an alternative.

I send a text message to Neil that I will be arriving at 6:30 in the morning on the train and ask whether he will be home. He texts back that no, he will be heading to Craiova at 6 but that it will not be a problem. I text that I had planned to take him up on the couch offer. He returns, "No problem, I will leave the door open."

I ask him who or where Criova is and he returns that it is the "land of happy" and that he will return on Friday or Saturday. This is odd as just yesterday he was going to be here but plans change and I have a place to stay so it will work.

The train seems to be out of the mountains and has picked up speed. It is late by now and so I get some sleep on the train. In the morning, I get out the folder with all the information about the conference and the people I will be seeing. I dig through it several times but find that the printed copy of Neil's email with his address is in the bottom of my zip-locked suitcase. I decide to send one last text message. It will certainly be easier for me to show the phone to a taxi driver than to try to explain where I want to go. I ask Neil what his address is so that I can get there. He sends back. "twenty nine paris street." I text back, "Thanks," and let it go.

Soon we are pulling into the Timisoara Nord station and I am getting myself and my suitcase off the train and heading out to the buses and taxis. It is still dark out and so I decide to take a taxi to his apartment which is near Piata Victorie. I show the address to one of the taxi drivers who is not sure where it is. He consults with another driver and they figure it out. He will take me there for ten lei. A great deal! He puts my suitcase in the front seat and I get in the back seat. It is not far and soon we are parked in front of 19 Paris strada. The driver is pointing to it and shaking his head. It takes a minute before I realize that this is the last address on the street and there is no twenty-nine.
I make a quick decision to go to Piata Victoria and figure it out from there and so I ask him to take me back to the piata to a coffee shop. I remember reading that Neil is right off the Piata. Across the Piata is a McDonald's and so that is where I head. This is the first McDonald's I have set foot in since I left home. I have a cup of hot tea and an orange muffin while I consult the map. I find Paris strada only two blocks away and decide that I can walk there.

It is nearly 7:30 now and the sun is just peeking into the Piata. Maybe it is late enough to call. As Neil has left for Criaova, I call Meghan. She is actually awake and wonders where I am. I explain that I am lost and that I am at the McDonald's in Piata Victorie. After a short discussion, she decides to come down and have a cup of tea with me and then we will plan the day. I wait for a short while and there she is coming through the door.

I explain that I didn't call Neil because he is out of town. She looks at me as if I am nuts. "He is at home sleeping," she says.

I say, "No, he is on his way to Craiova until Friday or Saturday."

"He is sleeping. We were out late with two other Fulbrighters and he is sleeping."

It takes a few minutes to figure it all out. Apparently, the Neil I have been texting all night and this morning is not the Neil I know. Somewhere in Timisoara, an apartment is open until the Neil I do not know returns on Saturday. Now I am wondering who this is that I have been texting. How nice that this person is willing to share his apartment with a stranger who starts a text conversation with him out of the blue. Or is this really some crazy person? Who is it I have been conversing with? And how coincidental that the address he chose (which does not exist) should be only a block from where I am really heading anyway.

We are all settled back in their building when my phone jingles. It is another text message. "Returning from happy land tonight." I thought whoever it was had been having a great joke at my expense, but apparently there is more. I am curious. Ring. Ring. Another text message. "Be around at 8 to let me in or leave the door ajar." Who is this? Who could be less than a block away? I know no one in Timisoara except Neil and Meghan and they are both sitting right here.

My curiosity won out. "Meet you at Kimodos at 830," I text back.

"Where is that?" Whoever this is speaks English quite well. There are not that many Americans here.

"Piata Unirii Come have a beer."

No response. Once again I figure that whoever this is has had enough. It is a glorious day in Timisoara. We have wandered here and there and are putting together dinner plans when I am alerted to another text message. "I have my laptop with me Can you leave the door open." Who is this? He certainly is persistent. I have no idea who this is but I am beginning to feel guilty about his door being wide open all day. I actually did try to go to his apartment but couldn't find it. I do hope nothing has been stolen while he has been gone.

Ring. Ring. Yet another text message. "My train gets in at eight thirty – whats the story with the door? And this is David, no?" So whoever this is has thought he knew me all along, just as I had.

I text back, "Not David, are you Neil?"

"No, Bruce." As I am reading the message and putting two and two together, my phone rings and I answer it. It turns out that for two days I have been texting another Fulbrighter who lives in Bucharest on the same street as Neil. There is the same Piata in Bucharest. We talk for a few minutes and I apologize for not realizing who he was. We hang up as I am in a noisy, crowded restaurant and he is on a noisy train and neither one of us can hear very well. What a bizarre coincidence!