The Black Church

Part of the interesting history of Romania is the depopulation of the Germans of Transylvania. Many of the homes and buildings of present day Rasnov were built between 1880 and 1912. Over several of the archways spanning the driveways of the homes are German names and the year of construction. Geor 1896 Schultz is implanted in the masonry of a typical home.

Much of Transylvania was inhabited by Germans and Hungarians. For a portion of its history Transylvania was part of Hungary. As Romania happened to end up on the winning side of both world wars, it was ceded the area. Many of the towns of the region are majority Magyar – Hungarian – but the entirety of Transylvania is only about 20% so. Cluj, our designated site, is that percentage.

There is antipathy between the Hungarians and Romanians, as trust has yet to fully develop between the two ethnic populations. People of German descent, though, are next to impossible to find.

During the years of Communism, the German families were sold to Germany. Rasnov once had a population of 7 thousand ethnic Germans. Now there apparently are less than 300. Many of the smaller German villages were completely abandoned and are now occupied by Gypsies. What the Germans left behind beside their names and dates over their homes was their churches.

There is a Lutheran Church in Rasnov. We toured it yesterday. A fine old building built in 1776 of masonry. The previous three wooden churches had burnt to the ground. We toured the bell tower and the choir loft. The old pipe organ was turned on for us, all we needed was a performer. The church could easily have held 400, but now the average attendance on the every other Sunday that services are held is about 40.

Yesterday was Rasnov. This evening we visited the Black Church in Brasov. Brasov is a much larger town than Rasnov and the church is much bigger. Built in the late 1600’s it gets its name from the charred outer walls. Inside the church imagine a vaulted ceiling, massive masonry pillars, curved walls, oriental rugs hung nearly everywhere to acoustics of the stone, an alter beneath a rose window, wooden pews that the backs swung one way or the other so the attendees could sit either facing the alter or facing the magnificent organ.

We faced the organ because it was a recital. Bach the way Bach was meant to be played, full throttle. For those of you who know classical music, the toccata and fugue in G. I wish I could hum a few bars for you, but even if I could it wouldn’t do either Bach or the organ justice. It seemed as if the painting of Martin Luther, hung in a place of prominence, smiled when it came time for Ein Fiste Burger – A Mighty Fortress -.

Basilica Neagru, this is the symbol of Brasov on the main square, but even here the church is only half used and depends upon the quarters from the tourists to maintain itself. Romania is a country of churches, but the best that can be hoped for the Lutheran churches is a graceful decline.

P.C. (group) 20, Ro (mania)

Top of the Mountain

Top of the Mountain

This past weekend I made a mistake. I’ve made similar mistakes in the past. Two similar mistakes in the last few weeks. The mistake I made was thinking that I was young. I am not young but for some reason I have to prove that to myself over and over again. I proved it to myself convincingly last Sunday.

As you may have noticed from some of the pictures I’ve included the area around Rasnov is mountainous. The valley is flat but the mountains are steep. I overheard a few of the other volunteers talking of a Sunday hike through the mountains and I invited myself. I know that I am not in great shape but I always thought that my legs would carry me about anywhere. So with a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water I headed off to the hills beyond Zarnesti.

The first portion of the trail we traveled wasn’t too bad. It was a little muddy and it had a lot of switchbacks but nothing extraordinarily tough. I did fall behind my five other companions though, but I knew they’d wait for me. After about an hour of trekking I emerged from the wooded trail into a high meadow filled with soft grass and wildflowers. The view was spectacular with perpendicular mountains continuing above us and wooded hillsides and valleys below. At that point we must have been approximately 4500 feet up from a base of perhaps 2000 feet. My companions had waited for me and soon after my arrival we started the second leg. After crossing the sheep meadow we began an ascent directly up the rest of the mountain.

Directly up. No switchbacks. From one rock up to the next rock. The trees covered the mountainside so I used one hand to hold a tree branch and the other to balance with my walking stick. I quickly fell behind the troop again. At one point my cell phone rang and it was the crew leader asking what happened to me. I said that I was coming. She asked how far up the mountain I had to go. I told her, I had no idea, I couldn’t tell, the mountain just kept going and going.

Finally, totally winded and spent, I emerged from the into a small rocky outcrop and with a large stone cross anchored into the rock. The cross symbolized all the other idiots that had died trying to climb this mountain. The view, I suspect, was even more tremendous than the previous one. I’m afraid of heights and was afraid to take a long look. I was too tired even to pull out my camera and take pictures. The map indicated that we now were at an elevation of 6200 feet. Not that high compared to Colorado, but we started out at a lower elevation and from the top to the north was a sheer drop back down to the same elevation.

After lunch, the decent of the circuit started out very interestingly. We walked along a knife edged top, perhaps three or four feet across and gradually trending downward, until we had to use handholds stuck into the mountain side to inch our way down. After going down the hand holds – which weren’t too bad because my hands and arms were the only parts of me that we’re exhausted – the trail fell away steeply through a narrow rock crevasse that continued forever. This time one of the crew hung back with me to make sure there was no accident. The way down was much more tricky and dangerous for sprains or broken bones than the way up and I was glad for his company. A light rain had begun to fall and the rocks were that much more treacherous. Finally, after what seemed like eternity we walked out of the narrow crack in the rocks into a pasture.

Below us, about a mile away, was a road. I wasn’t sure that I could walk that much farther, but there was no choice. Even though the way was now easy each step was painful. I felt bad about holding up my companion, but when we finally did make the roadway a car drove up, saw my distress and gave us a ride the 16 kilometers back to Rasnov.

When I limped through the gate to the casa, Nancy laughed and asked if I didn’t want to go for an evening walk around town.

It’s now Wednesday and I’ve recovered. Matter of fact the crew is talking of going this weekend for a two day hike up some really tough trails. I don’t think I’ll go.

Peles Castle, built around 1900, very similar to the Biltmore house in Asheville, North Carolina.

Sinaia and site visit

Last Thursday all but one of the 67 Peace Corps trainees were sent to the mountain resort town of Sinaia to meet our counterparts from the various organizations that we will work for the next two years. Our final destinations were kept secret with only hints as to where and with what group we would be placed.

The one member of Romania 20, as we are known, that did not get to Sinaia received a transfer to Ghana. It’s unusual for a transfer to occur, but Donna is a fine representative for Peace Corps, and she had been promised Africa by her recruiter and she had received numerous slurs and innuendoes from Romanians as she was the only black in our group – nearly the only black in all of Transylvania. We all hated to see her go, but glad she will continue with Peace Corps.

Counterpart conference is a big deal for Peace Corps staff. We stayed in a very nice hotel, ate good food and attended three days of meetings and such, but it was the matching of organization to volunteer that was the highlight. Neither the counterpart nor we knew to whom we were matched and Peace Corps staff built upon the mystery.

It turned out that Nancy and I will be working in the largest city in Transylvania, Cluj. It’s not pronounced Clug, but soften the j and draw it out a little. It’s reported to be one of the nicest cities in Romania, with a University, a botanical garden and lots of Theater and such. We traveled there for a short stay and initial introduction to our work assignments. Nancy will work for the equivalent of the Romanian Audubon Society with the aim of helping fund raising and merchandise sales. So I’m sure that you’ll all want to order your copy of the guide to Eastern European Birds, translated into Romanian. Or at least a Tee shirt. Every one in her office (8 folks if I counted correctly) is young and speaks English.

I am assigned to the Romanian Organic Farming Association, known as BioTerra. Be careful how you say that. The office staff consists of two young ladies – Zsuzsa & Eva – and the director Emri. Their first language is Hungarian, but they all speak German and Romanian and will use that last language when I’m in the office, and the ladies speak English. They’d like me to help in establishing markets for the organic products. It is not a field that I am fully qualified for, so I will be drawing upon contacts for information.

Our homr for the first two months of our stay starting in mid August will be a two room plus bath downstairs apartment in the small village of Luna de Sus. Luna de Sus is the town where I will be working. It’s 12 kilometers (about 8 miles) from Cluj. The name of the town means Moon Overhead, or Top of the Moon. The name is the prettiest thing about the town. Outside of town the countryside is gorgeous but the first and lasting impression of the town itself is mud. Only one street in town is paved, all the others are rutted and gravelly. But we were lucky. While we had mud to deal with many parts of Romania have been severely flooded. It was envisioned that Nancy would commute into Cluj to work, but as we can not drive and the bus schedule is inconsistent, it may be better to find an apartment in Cluj and have me commute to Luna.

This is the third flood this year, first in the west in the spring, then in the south of the country and now on the eastern slopes of the Carpathians. The city that I had helped with the Habitat for Humanity project was hard hit. The houses that we worked upon were on high ground so no fear of them being bothered, but much of the rest of the area was under water. Several of the volunteers were delayed in returning from site visit to Brasov. The last three are not scheduled to arrive until later tonight – 36 hours behind schedule.

The pictures included are of the area just beyond the limits of Rasnov and the king’s castle at Sinaia, Peles Castle. As it rained the entire stay at site, there are no pictures yet of Cluj, but I’ll have two years to take some. It’s about a five hour fast train ride (the slow train takes forever) between Brasov and Cluj and the countryside is amazingly pretty. Fields of hops and grapes and sunflowers and corn line the way. The country is mostly rolling hills, many topped with trees. The Communists had a policy of moving the country dwellers into the city to work in the factories so much of the countryside has a population density similar to Wyoming. I had heard or read a reference to Romania as the next Tuscany, and surely it could be so. My job with the organic farmers should allow lots of travel and I’ll collect and send pictures as they are taken.

Umbrella for the Oboist

Umbrella for the Oboist
July 1, 2008

Once or twice a week we have what’s known as a hub day. These are days when all the volunteers travel from our four satellite towns to the larger Brasov for training sessions of general interest. Friday was hub day and one of the volunteers came up with an idea of staying in town after training to hear the opera.

Nancy and I had often noticed announcements for cultural events in Brasov but had failed to follow through and actually attend any, so when we were asked if we’d like to join the group, we agreed. Altogether, six of us stayed in town, had a Romanian pizza and walked to the final performance of the season of the Brasov Opera.

The concert was a collection of the top hits of the season and included works by Bizet, Gounod, Strauss, Verdi, Puccini, Lerner & Lowe, Gershwin and Louie Armstrong. It was free and held in a most unusual setting. Old Brasov is surrounded by the remains of the walls built in the 1400’s to protect the city from various invaders. Every so often along the walls is what’s known as a bastion. Each section of wall and bastion was constructed by members of the various trades of the city. The weaver’s bastion is the best preserved of the turrets and the site of the concert.

Imagine a picture of the interior of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and you have a pretty good vision of the setting for the performance. The 40 or so members of the orchestra were seated on one side of the open air yard of the place facing a seated audience of perhaps one hundred and then another hundred and fifty or so of us standing under various levels of the protected walls of the amphitheatre. There were three tiers of floors from which the city defenders held off the attackers. We stood on the first of these, while the chorus occupied half of the second. I’m not sure that anyone was allowed up to the third level as the wood flooring didn’t appear that strong.

The talent of the orchestra and singers was extraordinary, but what made the evening memorable was the venue and the weather. We’ve had rain showers frequently and unexpectedly throughout the summer, so even though the day started out warm and sunny we had our umbrella. Good thing, too, for shortly after the start of the music it began to sprinkle. While we were protected beneath the overhang from the walls, most of the crowd and all the performers were not. The rain was not enough to bother the crowd as it was a light sprinkle, but the musicians were out in the wet as well. After about a third of the concert, the M.C. indicated that we’d take a break, hoping that the weather would clear.

It did. The storm looked as if it had passed and so the concert resumed about twenty minutes later. Of course, as soon as it resumed, the sprinkles began again. Individuals from the audience then got up and stood with their umbrellas over the members of the orchestra. Each player had his or her own personal rain protection and all were covered except the conductor. The solo singers did not have protection either but as each came out only for a single piece, then disappeared side stage, the concert continued.

Nancy and I had to smile when Freddy from My Fair Lady, sang “On the Strada Where You Live” in Romanian, but laughed out loud when we were caught off guard by a vigorous rendition of “I Got Plenty of ‘Nothing” in the same language. With the rain coming down quite steadily a wonderful bass sang “Old Man River”. I wanted to interrupt with the real words, but his intensity and delivery would have moved the crowd in any language. The finale with all hands on deck, was “To Dream the Impossible Dream”… in Romanian.

An evening well worth the long wait in the drizzle for the last bus to Rasnov.