And One for ze Power of Das Grayskull
Today, we walked into Brasov to look for antique swords. Will had found a store that appeared to specialize in it. We found the right numbered building, opened the door, and walked in. It lead to some weird alleyway thing with a bunch of houses. We located the right one, and it appeared to be closed. We tried another door, but it was just someone’s house. The Romanian people came out and appeared angry at first, but then softened when they realized we were just lost, confused, and looking for something else. It also helped that I kept saying the Romanian word for “antique dealer.” They pointed at the door we had tried first.
Looking at the door again, we found the opening times. Romanian is a romance language, so I could tell the days of the week. It was absolutely supposed to be open. It was not. Goddamn Romania.
Will and I then had pizza for lunch. I ordered a dessert that was like, crazy Romanian crepes filled with chocolate and happiness. They were delicious.
After lunch, Will and I took a cab to the train station and got on our train to Sighisoara, another small Romanian town. There were several things of note about this train. First, it stopped randomly and frequently. When I say randomly, I mean it stopped in the middle of corn fields. Second, it took forever. This may have been secondary to the fact that it stopped in corn fields. Third, it was probably the safest train ever.
Because the train took so long, Will and I caught up on our finance notes and my blog notes (I keep a little notebook for the blog so that I remember what I want to write, especially for when I fall behind).
Will and I wandered around Sighisoara a bit. However, we couldn’t see the things we wanted to see because the train took so long that everything closed. After wandering, we went to a castle-restaurant for food. Yeah, it was a castle.
Near the end of our meal, an old man came and sat down at the table next to us. He started talking to us randomly, and then he swiftly joined us at our table. We soon learned that he was a British expat, and his name was Steve. Steve knew everything. Now, I know I said that the Hungarian arms dealer knew everything, but I was wrong. STEVE knew everything. First, he knew the hostel we stayed at in Brasov, including the family. I had just noticed that I forgot to return the locker key they gave me (30 lei deposit!). Steve said he’d be happy to return it to them, so he gave me the 30 lei. Here’s where we learned his wisdom.
Me: Oh, I need to give you my name. You know, so you can get my deposit.
Steve: You don’t need to tell me. I already know it! Finklestein, right?
Me: Uhh…It’s (actual last name).
Steve: Same thing!
Me: Well, they’re both Jewish, I guess.
Steve: Ah, him! *points at Will* You’re Irish, right?
Will: I’m adopted, I don’t know. But probably.
Steve: Ah, nice Christian boy, then. Yes?
Will: Yep.
Steve: Good, good. Nice Christian boy. Good to see a nice Chrisitan boy around here. *glances at Andy* And a nice Jewish boy, too.
Steve was also drunk (did you guess it?). Very drunk. He was waiting for his Romanian friend / business associate to meet him in Sighisoara (he called it “Shiggy”). He was adamant that Romanian people are tardy. He said, “These Romanian people! They say 30 minutes and they mean 6 hours!” no fewer than five times during our conversation. He also said he was going to call his friend no fewer than four times. However, every time, he drunkenly forgot to call. He also kept drunkenly babbling to the waitress, Andrea, who patiently accepted his babble.
When Steve finally called his friend and left, I asked Andrea if she actually knew Steve. “Yes…he is…a customer,” she replied. I guess this happens often. Will and I then went to the train station. After sitting on the bench no longer than five minutes, this older Romanian dude walks over and sits down next to us. “I heard you speaking English!” At first, I was creeped out and thought he wanted to steal our stuff. It turned out he was just friendly. Really friendly. Will disagrees on this point, but he also didn’t have the guy 5 inches from his face constantly. He was playing with his phone most of the time and only had to talk to him a little bit. As we’ve had with all random foreigners, he focused on me almost exclusively. It turned out the guy was on his way to a Bon Jovi concert in Bucarest. However, his train wasn’t until 06:00, and he had come from somewhere else, so he had to sleep in the train station that night.
The next person to join our little party was this middle-aged British woman who was on her way to Budapest. She had lots of questions about how the train system worked, which we tried to answer as best we could. She also wanted to know what to do in Budapest. While giving her suggestions, I recommended the Museum of Terror, Budapest’s museum of the Nazi and Communist regimes that terrorized Hungary for decades, as well as a memorial to their victims.
Lady: *scoffing* Is capitalism really any better?
Will & me: *in unison* Yes.
Me: We haven’t systematically hundreds of thousands of people.
Lady: Well, what about that place in the Caribbean where the U.S. sends all of those prisoners?
Will: You mean Guantanamo?
Me: I don’t think Guantanamo Bay is really comparable to Nazi death camps…
Lady: Well, I don’t really want to get into this right now.
After a while, she explained that she just had a brain tumor removed, which left her with a bit of a “scrambled egg and a new outlook on life,” as she put it. She also added that she hated people (i.e., the entire human race). Suddenly, a Czech girl from Brno came to save us from super-friendly Bon Jovi dude and Scrambled Egg Lady. She was awesome. First, she had been camping in the woods for two weeks (extra Will points for that). Second, when she learned that Romanian woods have bears, her first thought was to bring a gun (the Czech Republic has America-esque gun laws). Third, she was really hot. We talked with her for a while, then boarded our train
Will’s Corner
Camping = win.
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Dear Joe,
If you had to fight a Romanian bear, you’d just yell, “RAAAAAAGE!” Then, an epic break-dance battle would ensue. You’d win, and the bear would party with you for the rest of the night. You’d then be best friends. Forever.
Love,
Will and Andy
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