your Sundays consist of 2-3 hours of church, followed by a shopping excursion turned workout as you haul twenty 6 liters bottles of water back to your house, maybe a nap, then 2-3 more hours of church, during which you fall just a little bit more in love with the missionaries and church members you worship with.
you begin to understand that some things surpass all language and cultural barriers, like boy band dance parties, ice cream, excessive games of charades during communication attempts, praise and worship songs, waiting by the phone for boys to call, smiles and of course, photographs.
your morning prayer time at church is punctuated with noises from various barnyard animals.
you have an entirely new understanding of “bromance” after observing the relationship between the men on your team and the Romanian male missionaries they work with (seriously, there might will be tears shed by both parties when we leave).
cooking becomes a near death experience as you attempt to light what might be the first gas stove known to man.
you don’t mind almost losing your life to cook because gathering around the table with your other twelve pack members for family dinner time is one of the highlights of your day.
you are surrounded by some of the most amazing missionaries you have ever met, whose daily joy while living in one of the most spiritually dark places in Romania makes you completely reevaluate yourself and your tendency to get caught up in your own petty pity parties.
you get electrocuted every time you try to get clothes out of the standing soapy water in the washing machine – but hey, at least you have clean clothes!
you are challenged every single day by the wise words of Raul, your missionary contact/spiritual mentor/life coach/potential husband-finder and you wonder if maybe, just maybe, God put him in your life for your first month on the Race to prepare you for the 10 months ahead.
your daily exercise consists of jumping all around the kitchen with an empty pop bottle in your hand trying to kill the seven billion flies that are notably more aggressive than American flies.
trips to the local store turn into complete “fishbowl” experiences, where you play the role of the fish and every single Romanian you pass on the street or see in the store plays the part of the human staring curiously into the bowl.
you step away from a Skype conversation for a few minutes, explaining to your family member back home that you’ll be right back, you just have to threaten the gypsy kids pounding on your bay window that you will call the “polizia” if they don’t scram.
you plan a trip to visit Dracula’s castle and the Carpathian Mountains (on Monday – woot woot!).
your morning alarm clock is a horse and buggy clomping down the street.
you think to yourself, “That has got to be the cutest baby I’ve ever seen” for about five minutes until you see ANOTHER baby who might just be cuter.
you find yourself standing in the kitchen asking your teammates, “Wait, we’re out of (insert staple food item here) already? We just bought that yesterday!” OH, RIGHT, YOU LIVE WITH TWELVE OTHER PEOPLE.
you can buy 20 cucumbers for about $1.50 at the local market.
even though you are excited about moving on to a new country, you slightly secretly hope that you might somehow get to spend another month in the town that has captured your heart.
