Settling in

In the midst of the visa extension debacle (we thank our friends and family for their kind and amusing words of support during this time) we are doing our best to settle in and establish some sort of routine.  We are grasping for normalcy after many weeks of living out of a suitcase and bouncing from place to place.  

Thus far, when not spending hours in the city talking to government officials, our days are spent as follows: a little of this, a little of that as we wait for the weather to warm up.  All of this while incurring the severe disapproval of the cat.  

But we're not just idly wasting hours and days, oh no, not us.  Check it out below:

                            

                  

                                                                 

Really.  Yeah.  That's about it.
Oh, one more thing not pictured: I watch a lot of football.  Just about all of the Barcelona games I could wish for as they run BarcaTV almost nightly; new stuff plus old Ronaldino, Deco and Xavi back when he was just a twentysomething footballer.
And I have just enrolled the boys in the local school (this involved the teacher asking if they would like to come to school and me saying "yes") Photos of the boys there are coming in a separate post entitled: How To Keep Your Dignity Being a 12-Year Old  Boy Attending Kindergarten.
Hmm, things just might (or might not) start getting interesting around here.

(oh, and just so you know Miss Kitty, the feeling is mutual.  So there.)

How To Obtain an Extension On Your 90-Day Visa: a comedy-thriller coming to a blog near you

Since our plans do not include any travel for the next several weeks and since the southwestern Romanian countryside is not at its most attractive during this time of the year, there will be a limited number of photographs to post and, in truth, a limited number of experiences to relate....or maybe not.

After all, this is Romania.

In Romania, (and I'm certain this is true of many Eastern European countries) every time you venture out of your house, something absurd generally occurs.  You don't have to go looking for it; you will often experience the absurd while engaged in mundane, innocent tasks such as going to the market to buy cheese where you may scandalize the entire store by drinking "auto water" straight from the bottle.  For all of you non-Romanian readers: auto water is the same thing as ordinary, distilled drinking water except that in this case there is a drawing of a car on the bottle.  It is this drawing alone which appears to have the ability to render the fluid inside "not for consumption by the humans, madam".

You might decide to visit the local department store.  In Romania this is a multi-storied, concrete building which contains goods and wares arranged and presented in a fashion similar to the Soquel Drive-In flea market.  You will be hoping to purchase a vacuum cleaner filter and in the process you will be kicked out of the elevator between floors.  (Yes, I will provide the full detail of this story in a future posting which will be entitled: The Real Story Behind Those Low Unemployment Numbers.)

You could even be inside your own home and simply glance out the window in time to see a delivery truck run off the road, demolish the neighbor's fence, get stuck in the mud in their front yard and kill a wild turkey all in one go.  You will watch the village gather round and debate the best way to solve the issue of the truck extraction for what remains of the afternoon and beyond.

                                    

Water cooler in government building.

The note says: 

"Warning, do not let the water drip into the tray, danger of electric shock."

Yes, it is plugged in and yes, there were folks using it.

But perhaps one day you will want to venture from the "mundane and innocent" column of activities and foray over to both the "looking for trouble"  and the "nothing good can come from this" column. In this case you will want to attempt to apply for an extension on your 90-day visa.
You, faithful readers, have followed us across the United States, across the Atlantic and into Eastern Europe.  Since we are planted here for a bit of a pause, we invite you on another journey: come with us as we try to get Leigha's visa extended.
Day 1: the police station.
No photos allowed.  Sorry.
This is the same building where the Securitatea used to do their nefarious and dirty business terrorizing the country, accusing innocent civilians, bullying worshipers of various faiths.  Great place to start.
We arrive.
40 minutes later and the guard has told us both that the official we need to see is coming in 3 minutes and that he is going to be in a meeting for the rest of the day.  Just as we are ready to depart, the official suddenly appears, shakes our hands and states that he was sorry we waited, what do we need to see him for?
The reaction is one we must get used to for we will see it often: you want to do what?  Laughter. Disbelieving shake of head.  An American wanting to stay in Romania for a year.
After much circular conversation, we have to fill out a form, everyone must sign it, it must be photocopied, along with my passport, in a room for which only certain special officials hold the key.  It must be stamped by two different officials.
This form means nothing.  The filling out, signing and stamping of this form does not begin the process of the 90 day extension.  It is simply a form saying that I have met with this official and that we discussed something.
"I can do nothing for you," he tells us, "You have to go to Evidenta Populatiei and speak to the clerk and she will be able to do everything for you."
We arrive at Evidenta Populatiei and que up.

A police officer approaches and asks us why we are in line (the lines apparently can be screened).  We tell her.  Laughter.  Head shaking.  She hovers beside us in the line, just to see the look on the clerk's face.  Laughter all round.  Head shaking.
"Ok", we are told, "this is not going to be a problem.  You just get your U.S marriage certificate translated into Romanian which will take about 90 days and then you come back and start the process."
"But," we  point out,  "the visa is only for 90 days."
"Yes."
"So...what do I do when the visa runs out and the translation isn't finished yet?"
"Its not going to be a problem, the translation will be done in plenty of time."
"But you just said it will take 90 days."
"Sure, 90 days, or 10 days.  It depends.  But I can do nothing for you here.  You need to go to Room 5 and speak with the secretary there and she will do everything for you."
To room 5 we go.

The door is locked and we are alternately told that the secretary is gone for the day or that she is in a meeting which will take 10 minutes or 3 hours, they are not sure which.  However, if we come back first thing on Monday morning, she will see us and take care of everything.
I am not certain, faithful readers, if I have just related the first stage of getting my visa extended or the first stage of eventually getting deported.  But I trust that you will follow us along, as you have thus far, wherever this adventure (debacle) takes us.

                                                                   

Lafayette, we are here!

                 
                                                        A series of fortunate events

Our itenerary for March 15 was as follows: check out of hotel in New York at 12:00, flight for London departs from JFK at 21:00.  Layover in London=1 hour 25 minutes.  Flight arrives in Bucharest at 14:30 March 16.  The train workers have planned to strike on March 16 from 9:00 to noon.  We have, counting our backpacks, 13 pieces of luggage to transport.  2 adults, 2 children available to do this.
Normally in the life of the traveling Ionescus, this would be the recipe for the Perfect Storm. After all, in the past we have set up for ourselves what we thought were flawless itineraries only to have it take us 37 hours to arrive in Romania.  So when we saw the events unfolding, we told ourselves we were in for our regularly scheduled traveling nightmare and made the following goals:
                         Do not scream at each other
                         When you see food, eat it immediately
                         When you have the opportunity to sleep, do so immediately
We stuffed our pockets with clean underwear and all the cereal bars we could find and felt satisfied that we were as well prepared as we could be.
And so we were shocked  when the following events occurred:
                          1. the hotel allowed us a very late check out and then permitted us to stay in their lounge drinking tea, playing cards and checking our email while they stored our luggage in a secure location.
                          2. the transport van took us, not to the outskirts of the airport as they had said, but directly to the departure gate.  13 pieces of luggage had to be moved about 100 yards.
                          3. at the gate there was no line.
                          4. all of our luggage was underweight and none of our liquids were confiscated
                          5. on the 747 to London there were approximately 12 other passengers.  This meant we had whole rows to ourselves to stretch out and sleep.  This meant no lines for the bathrooms.  This meant we could do pilates in the aisles.  This meant heaven. ( I assumed this also meant we were on a doomed flight that everyone else had the premonition not to board but here we are, alive and well...)
                          6.  we made our connection in London and the train strike was over by the time we landed in Bucharest where our luggage was all intact and waiting for us and where the weather was a balmy 70 degrees.
                        I have no explanation for this miracle trip except that maybe it was our turn to journey to Romania without disaster.

                        Dawn is arriving through the window: he slept stretched out in economy class: oh the poor fools who paid for first class on this flight!

Luci explaining to me that he did not sleep through the night because he was too busy watching movies.  As the flight was preparing to land, he informed me that he was then ready to sleep. Obviously he did not understand the goals as outlined above.

Yet another miracle: as you can see, this platform was completely unprotected, what are the chances that it would not be either raining, snowing or at least freezing cold while we waited for the train to the Bucharest station?

Its a joy to be greeted by dear friends

                                                        

Hai noroc, am ajuns!

New York: city and upstate

Having traveled 4,500 miles across this country, having tackled state capitals,  interstate truckers, the metro systems of several major cities and the icy Plains of I-80, we thought we had this tourist thing pretty well handled. But then we tried to take on the metro system of New York City.

65% of our photo album contains photos taken in the subway.  This is due to spending 85% of our time there*                                                    

At least we were entertained

While we do not rejoice at the misfortunes of others, there is something gratifying in observing the confusion of locals as demonstrated by the following dialog, shouted by trio of New Yorkers, all standing on different platforms in the subway. "Is this the E train?"

              "No.  The E train only runs during the week.  You have to cross over here to this side and take the F train uptown and then get off on Jay Street and connect with the M."

              "The M train won't take me downtown."

              "The M train only runs downtown."

              "No it don't!  I'm trying to go Brooklyn and I know I can't take the M train."

              "If you're trying to go to Brooklyn then you need the J train and you have to catch it at the Sutphen station."

              "The J train will take me uptown!"
              "Look, buddy, where you trying to go?  You wanna go downtown, you gotta take the J."

              "You don't know where I'm trying to go!  I know I can't take the J cause this is Sunday!  I know where I'm going and you don't have to tell me anything!"

During this exchange we witness numerous other passengers alternately stand up and then sit back down, whispering to each other "I knew it was the M!  We're in wrong spot!" and "I told you we can only take the E!"  

Is it a wonder it took us, on average, 2 hours to enter and exit Manhattan each day?  

So what did we see in New York City?  Um...buildings.  Oh, wait, we found Rockefeller Center and we were all able to do our Liz Lemon/Jack Donaghey/Tracy Morgan impressions on the streets outside 30 Rock.  

And we found our way to Time's Square at last.

"Family, where are you?"                                    

                                             

"We are here!  We are here!"

                 And we ate at very, very, very, very crowded eateries but Mihai and Mircea got Katz's Deli at last

And then Genea saved us by taking us to Patterson!  It was so great to be with her and spend a day in the quietness of Patterson and meet some great friends.

Ribs: its what's for lunch.  Apparently we struck the Mother Lode, arriving on RIB DAY (although my personal favorite was the mashed sweet potatoes)

                                                

Simon: Tour Guide Extraordinare

Lucian and Raphael practicing recording

Mircea recording his reading: listen for him in the next issue!

                            

 Lucian swears he was not sleeping on the drive back into the city.

          

Genea picked out this fantastic restaurant in her neighborhood in Brooklyn.  Buttermilk Channel for all of those who might be traveling there and interested in some good eats.

Thanks, Genea for our best day in New York!  We had a wonderful time with you!

*It is not our intention to disparage New York City; when we booked our hotel by the airport in Queens we did so with the knowledge that we were placing ourselves far outside the city and that we would have a significant commute to see and eat anything interesting but this was a necessary comprise given the fact that otherwise we would have had to haul 9 pieces of luggage through the New York City subway system.  (see above narrative for proof that this would not have been a good idea).

New York City

Last U.S stop: New York City (why do I hear the Pace Picante Salsa ad voice in my head every time I say that?)
As usual, our must-do itinerary consists of food experiences: New York style pizza, hot dogs from a street vendor, bagels and Katz Deli.  There is one non-food related item on the agenda: Lucian wants to visit Time's Square while wearing our Bierhoff Brother's Time Square Coats.  Okay, this joke has gone on too long now so I've got to include the link to the SNL skit which makes us laugh out loud but since we've over-hyped it, no one else is likely to find it funny.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/42026/saturday-night-live-coat-store

                                                                      Day 1 
                   or How we got a free dinner on our first night in New York City.
Straight off the plane to our hotel in Queens and then into Manhattan on our quest for Mihai's pizza.  As usual, he had a specific place in mind and had the address and directions all plugged into his GPS.  Sounds simple.
                                                              .....4 hours later.....
We are outside the restaurant waiting for our table, huddling under the outdoor heaters to keep ourselves warm and savoring our saliva as it is the only thing to go down our throats and into our stomachs for hours.  Disgruntled would-be patrons exit the place, complaining of the wait and at some point a guy comes out and says, in what I took as a sardonic manner, "Is there are doctor or nurse out here?"  Since he didn't seem particularly intent on getting an answer, I assumed he was making a bitter comment about the fact that we were all going to starve to death waiting to be seated and that we therefore needed medical personnel.  But a murmur began to course through the waiting crowd: "Is he serious?  Is someone injured inside?"  The consensus seemed to be yes, someone was in need of medical attention.
Now everyone who knows me is aware that when I am hungry, I am not a pleasant person to be around so it may come as no shock that my first thought was "are you kidding?  I'm not going to do CPR on someone when I haven't eaten in 9 hours."  But between the shame my family was heaping upon me (and that fact that they were saying "mom, you're a nurse!" loud enough for the gawking crowd to hear) and my own reasoning that a medical situation was likely to slow down service and therefore delay eating, I stepped forward and offered assistance.
Choking?  Seizure?  Woman in labor?  Gunshot?  Alas, no.  A young woman got overheated and (big surprise) was overly hungry and passed out.
Interventions of a professionally trained registered nurse (otherwise known as what any other person with common sense would do): put something soft under the woman's head, remove her 2 jackets, check her pulse (a little thready but otherwise normal BPM) and recommend that she eat something and not wear her wool winter coat inside an 80 degree room.
So that was done.  The real question remained: when in the heck were we going to eat???
A few minutes later we are seated and was the pizza delicious?  Yes.  Was it as good as ours?  Hmm....I've never had to wait 9 hours for mine so...no.  Cool to eat New York style pizza in New York City?  Yes.  Nicer to eat the same thing in my back yard, cooked in my pizza oven surrounded by relaxed friends and family and wearing flip flops?  Yes.
Oh, guess what?  They only accept cash.  Oh, guess what, between the subway and the bus and the hot dogs we bought from the street vendor on the way into the city (see photo#3), we had hardly enough cash for one pizza.  Oh well, water is far healthier than soda anyway, right?  And who needs doughy, empty calorie appetizers when you've recently discovered you have reached nearly 120 lbs from your road trip/4 week eating extravaganza?
At the end of the meal the waitress appears and says "The meal is on the house" and with my glucose-deprived brain I think she means that we have to go upstairs to pay.
Then I think this is some sort of apology for the ridiculously long wait but no-its for my "medical services."  I laugh out loud on the spot but they are completely serious.
The best thing about this whole event:  the look of pride and pleasure on the face of my children when they told their father "We got dinner for free because mom helped that lady.  That is so awesome!"
Indeed.

Moments before "the incident"

Er, looks like the same thing we make in our backyard

                                                          

Photo#3

Band of gypsies

On the road again....
The last driving portion of our journey (for 2011 anyway, still have to drive back in 2012).  At this point there are some things that are becoming increasingly coveted:
fiber
cardio
green tea
dresser drawers
                                                                                        
Enough said about that.

As we drive further and further south, the weather grows warmer, the scenery alters and becomes increasingly verdant and lush.  Ah, Florida.  Land of hurricanes and humidity, of palm trees and sugar sand beaches, turquoise oceans and a concentration of some of the worst drivers we have seen in the entire country.  On I-75 we feared we had survived 3,500 miles only to be wiped out by either a texting trucker or a cell-phone talking great-grandma, the former driving almost 100 mph in the center lane and bumping into all who hindered his meteoric path and the latter chatting away at 38 mph, blissfully ignoring the "Minimum Speed Limit 50 mph" postings.
Ah, Florida.

And yet we arrived.  At last.

                                                                         

                                                                                                           

My kids were so happy just to get out of the car that we could have done nothing more than lay on the grass and watch the clouds and it would have thrilled them.  But their cousins (I apply the word rather loosely) had better ideas.  

                                                               

Honey, something tells me we aren't in Chicago any more

In Florida, when it rains, it pours.  That is not fog, that is sheets of water coming down.

Savannah

If we thought Charleston was a food lover's paradise, it was only because we had yet to arrive in Savannah.  Shocking but true: we almost didn't come here.  Somehow Charleston and Savannah melded together in our minds and we thought "seen one coastal Southern city, seen 'em all"  (you'd think we would learn after our experience with the Smoky Mountains but we are a hard-headed bunch).  However, since it was en route and since we didn't want to arrive at my sister's house too early (after 3 days fish and company start to stink), we decided to stop and smell the flora and taste the catfish...

Below is a visual sampling of this beautiful, delicious city:

In response to some requests for more photographs from various places, we have Picasa albums available. If anyone wants to see more, feel free to email me and I will email you the links.