We did it!  On September 30th 2011, Catalin and I went to the courthouse and were legally wed. I  know this took a lot of our friends/family by surprise so I'll take this time to explain a bit. Many people were not invited to our civil ceremony in Bucharest because we will be having a larger, more traditional, wedding ceremony in Texas (where we'll be married by the church). In short, this was one part of a two part series. And what a lovely part it was: 

*All photos were taken by friend and photographer Bogdan Dinca: www.fotografiidefamilie.com

Married!

Signing with my new last name for the first time.

A bit giddy after the ceremony.

Update: I forgot to include a beautiful video our dear friend Bogdan made for us as a gift since he could not be with us on that day. I'm posting it for you to enjoy but also that I will always have a link to it---here it is:


Vivian & Catalin are getting married! from Bogdan Stamatin on Vimeo.




After all the fun we took off on a trip to Paris. Which leads me to my next post...

American's have 'American cheese'. Romanians have 'Cascaval'.

 Cascaval is a common, affordable, and ubiquitous cheese here. If you order a cheese sandwich - Cascaval.  Burrito? Cascaval all over it. Cheesburger? Cascaval again. This is great if you enjoy the flavor but a lot of times I don't. The tricky thing with this cheese is that there are a lot of variations that look exactly the same but taste different (see photo). Despite this fact Romanians (at least all those I've encountered) consider it all to be the same; they never refer to types of cascaval. No menu will list the specific variation of cascaval, like "Cascaval Dalia" or "Cascaval Dorna". They just put "cascaval". And this is why I tend to avoid the cheese when possible. My first encounter with it, over six months ago, did not go well. To me it has this strong, stinky aftertaste that makes me want to spit it out. Yuck, I can't eat it.

Or so I thought. 

Slowly I began to discover that all cascavals were not created equal. That took time since everyone I know likes any kind of cascaval and aren't picky about the type. It wasn't until I enjoyed a chicken w/cascaval sandwich at the Cluj Airport this past August that  I realized there was a mild, non-stinky version of the cheese I could eat. I had to find it. But how? Well, I really didn't know how. Catalin never makes the distinction between cascaval types, thus he was just as clueless as I regarding different flavors. Asking for samples was out of the question. People don't do that here and I didn't want to get an ice cold stare-down from the lady behind the counter.

Hmm what to do, what to do? I knew stinky was my enemy so one day it finally occurred to me- use your nose. It worked surprisingly well! There I was like a crazy woman, smelling hunks of packaged cheese at the supermarket one by one. I'm pretty sure Cata was embarrassed but he was kind enough to let me sniff away without any protests on his part. The stinky cascaval was easy to spot and avoid. My nose led me to this gem: "Cascaval Calup de Vaca" (aka)" De Albalact Cascaval Calup"If any Americans in Romania are reading, I would recommend trying this cheese. It is white like all the others, and has a mild flavor which strongly resembles cheddar.  Yum.

*UPDATE AUG.2012 –"Napolact Cascaval Dej" Is also a winner and it is easier to find than those previously mentioned*

The 'cascaval' cheese section of Real supermarket, Bucharest.

A few weeks ago my friend Mike pulled into Gara de Nord on a midnight train, officially ending his Trans-Siberian journey in Bucharest, Romania. I was determined to get him outside the city and had a weekend trip planned. Mike, Catalin and I drove north through the Carpathian Mountains on the Transalpina highway. This is a road similar to the Transfagarasan in that it goes through the mountains but unlike the aforementioned, it reaches the highest point of any road in the country 2,145 meters above sea level to be exact. It made for a beautiful drive and fantastic pictures. Take the drive if you have'nt yet, the road is newly paved and there are hotels along the way.

Peles Castle

Transalpina

It doesn't get any fresher than this. I drank my first glass of 'straight from the cow' milk thanks to this lovely woman.

Great friend of mine is in town after traveling the Trans-Siberian. His visit gave me the kick I needed to get some decorating projects done. Look what I made!

All hand stitched- unfortunately I don't have a sewing machine (yet). Below: After & Before. Ahhh much better I'd say.

I made a new friend this week. Morning or evening, I see her on my route to the metro. She's my main supplier for the apartment. Her clothes show the slight wear that comes from careful preservation over years of use but her smile is as fresh as the flowers she sells."Cinci lei, cinci lei" she says showing me this week's colorful batch from the garden. During our short conversations I usually tumble through Romanian (Good morning! How much? This one please. Thank you. See you next time.) What the language barrier can't block is the sharing of a smile. Mine coming from admiration at someone who is so kind and hard working. Hers warm and bright, revealing a map of soft wrinkles.

Yesterday she totally had my back. When I stopped to buy flowers another vendor started bagging prunes for me to buy (I did not want or ask for prunes). As I started to hesitate in Romanian, feeling like I should just buy the prunes. She looked at me and silently signaled "no" while the prune vendor's back was turned. There it was, the little confidence boost I needed. "Nu, multumesc frumos" came out clear and firm. I took my flowers and said goodbye; this time I couldn't stop smiling.

This week I bought Catalin flowers and he surprised me by coming home with a book. I love that my future husband surprises me with books.

No, I did not go back to Prague or Vienna but I did happen upon a folder of forgotten pictures. All were taken with my old (but great) Canon Powershot.

Vienna

I've been everywhere this summer--in a good way. After seven weeks on the run, my travels brought me home for good (or at least a good while). Normal feels nice. No more airports, carry-ons, or long drives. Just a cup of coffee who's familiar taste I'd been missing all summer and breakfast with my future husband. Hello Bucharest, I think I missed you a bit.

 ↑Two week tour of Transylvania. Find more photos on my photography blog here.

 My first inclination upon returning home was to do nothing. By nothing I mean staying home to redesign my photography website, watch all the tv shows I had missed, catch up with friends abroad on google phone and nap. Saturday was bliss. Sunday Cata and I joined friends at Summer Well, a music festival  held on about 65 acres of private property just outside of Bucharest. Photos:

At Summer Well.

Dinner with Unchiu Vasi and Tusi Doina at Le Teatru.

Did you know that on average women cry once a week? I heard or read that once and thought- ahhhh so I'm normal! Who cares if it is true; it makes sense to me. As for this week, the week of my departure back to Romania, my crying quota has been exceeded by far. There is just too much love and happiness coupled with too much hurt at the thought of missing the days and weeks that will make up 1 year of my familys' lives. I crack. I totally and completely can't hold it together...I cry. It hurts to stretch my heart across continents but perhaps these are just growing pains. In any case I'm all the richer for it.

Tomorrow I'll board a plane back to Europe, back to Cata, to friends and family. The adventure continues. For now, here are a few slices of American life:

Careful, Roland Jr. is a heartbreaker.

Before journeying to the USA to visit family I squeezed in a weekend trip to Vama Veche. This is the hippie place everyone has been telling me about all winter. So did it live up to the hype? Hmm, yes and no. I definitely liked the vibe, there are no snobby vacationistas here, just young people looking to relax. It is a clothing optional, drinking mandatory kind of town. As long as you're not bothering anyone, you can pretty much do whatever you want- including camp out by the sea. So what did we do? Well we ate, drank, swam, danced and slept (repeat!). It was a good time but I also found myself wondering "what are we going to do today?". The answer was simple; nothing. The point of Vama, I eventually came to understand, is to enjoy the simplicity of food, friends, and sea. Don't try to clutter your agenda with activities (an American tendency of mine). Vama is a great weekend getaway from Bucharest but I'd say the shine wears off if you stay longer. For me, two days was just right.
p.s. next time we are totally going to camp out

 

↕ Photo above and below by Catalin Abagiu