This was written on the train from Sibiu to Deva on Saturday, March 27^th, after an extremely disastrous morning.

Please excuse the language, but given the circumstances I think it’s acceptable. Today has been the fuck-craziest of all days thus far and yet another absolute travel disaster. Even though everything that could possibly go wrong, has gone wrong, I’m laughing about it.

I got up at 5:30 this morning still sick with a cold/allergies/plague that has been haunting me ever since I got home from Predeal and ever so slightly hung-over from last night’s revelry with Lacrima Munților. I walked across town in the pitch dark to hop on the 6:30 am bus to Sibiu. I was on my way to the city of Hunedoara in Hunedoara County, Transsylvania to visit my friend Michael. Ideally the trip should take seven hours. Should being the key word in that sentence.

I usually sleep on the bus. The roads in my area of Romania are viciously rough and the driving is horrifying to say the least. Sleeping spares me the inevitable nausea or near heart attack from watching the bus almost collide with a speeding car coming head on. Today was no different. We weren’t even to Tomsani (5km away) and I was sound asleep. Somewhere along the way from Horezu to Valcea a man, who literally sucks at life, boarded the bus and sat in the seat behind me. Needless to say, when I woke up in Valcea, my new phone and the mystery man was gone. He had stolen my phone out of my jacket pocket. I wasn’t so mad that it got stolen; I was more upset at the fact that I had just bought the phone three days earlier. Damn my luck. Oh well, if that’s the worst thing that happens while I am in Romania, I’m doing pretty well.

I got to Sibiu at 10am, phoneless, only to discover that the morning bus to the city of Deva doesn’t run on Saturdays. I would have to wait for the 5:15 evening bus or take the 3:50 train. Seriously, damn my luck.

Since I had plenty of time to kill, I went into town to buy a new phone and find some way of getting a hold of Mike. I went to the one Orange store that I knew of and the man there said that they couldn’t sell me a phone with out a plan. He directed me to a second store across the street. The man at the second store was very nice. I explained my dilemma to him in Romanian. He selected a few phones for me to decide from. Half way through our meeting he asked if I spoke English. As it turns out, he spoke English as well. I purchased my phone and he directed me to a shop next door where I could buy the SIM card for the company I use. I thanked him for being so helpful and was on my way, new phone in hand. The man at the second store was just as nice and helpful. He got me set up with a new phone number and credit so that I could make some calls. Seriously, people in Sibiu are great.

Now onto the next dilemma, getting a hold of someone. When my phone was stolen, so were all my phone numbers. Luckily, one of the volunteers had made little paper business cards during training and gave us all one. I have never been more thankful that I never, ever clean out my wallet. I called Gretel to get Mike’s phone number. She didn’t have Mike’s number, so she gave me David’s. I called David and he didn’t have Mike’s number, but he had Sarah’s. Finally, I called Sarah. She, thankfully, had Mike’s number. I got a hold of Mike and explained the whole fiasco. He told me which train line I needed to take and gave me directions for getting from Deva to Hunedoara, my final destination. I had no way of getting a hold of Vale and she had no idea that I left, so I sent Mike on the mission of calling my Project Manager with Peace Corps to get Vale’s number.

Now I’m sitting in the Sibiu train station patiently awaiting my Accelerat Train to Deva at 3:54 (it’s only 12:49). It will be a two and a half hour trip to Deva. The train is painfully slow. If Mike doesn’t meet me in Deva, I’m gonna strangle him.

Even though today was one disaster after another, I’m not upset about it. Some jerk stole my brand new phone, my bus didn’t come, and some random guy just wrote his phone number on my notebook (like, just this second. His name is Florin and his number is 0754226843, in case you are in the mood for a prank call.) That’s life. Any of these exact same events could take place in the States. I’ll just keep laughing about how ridiculously unlucky I am when it comes to traveling away from my site. When I see George and Jan on Tuesday, I’ll recount this adventure to them and they will laugh their proverbial asses off. It will just give them more comic fodder. Doamne Ajuta. But this is all part of life, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

-March 27^th, 2010, 1pm local time. Sibiu Train Station. The city of Sibiu, Transsylvania region.

Afterword: In addition to the insanity of the day

After taking a break from my notebook, I walked to town to get a bite to eat and kill some time. A random sketchy looking old lady stopped and asked me to watch her kid for a few minutes while she looked for her husband. The little girl couldn’t have been more than three years old. I politely refused by telling her I didn’t understand Romanian. She didn’t believe me. I guess answering her questions in Romanian didn’t help my cause too much, hun? I then excused myself by saying I had a train to catch in 10 minutes. I’m still a little weirded out by this one. Who in their right mind asks a complete stranger sitting on a park bench to watch their three year old when said stranger has already expressed that she doesn’t speak your language? This event, by far, takes the cake as the strangest moment I’ve had in Romania.

I’m currently sitting on the train and the couple across the way from me is drinking beer and what appears to be țuisca. They are an older couple and quite friendly. They are chatting with the lady sitting across from me. They are showing off the cute Easter dress and toy that they bought in Sibiu for their granddaughter. Proud grandparents are proud grandparents anywhere. The lady sitting across from me speaks English. She startled me when she asked to change seats with me in English. I hadn’t spoken any English since getting on the train. How did she assume I spoke English? Then it dawned on me, my Lacrima Munților nametag is still stuck on my purse and I don’t know any Romanians named Chelsea. The lady’s name is Lori and she is a physics teacher from Timisoara on her way home. She offered me half of her lunch because I didn’t bring a sandwich with me. She also gave me a small handmade card since Easter is coming up. People are really nice around here. So I guess today wasn’t a complete disaster after all.

- March 27^th, 2010, 5pm local time. On the train from Sibiu to Deva