A few highlights from Romania:
My team and I, along our partner-team Ignition, boarded a train out of Bucharest at 9:00pm. We had just spent ten hours flying overnight from South Africa and were freezing from waiting at the train station for six hours. (We were all wearing almost every article of clothing we owned to keep warm in the frigid weather.) We all piled onto the train and slept for a few hours. The train would take us to another station, where we would need to wait for several hours to catch a train to Targu Mures. At 1:00am, we threw on our enormous packs and stepped off the train and into a field of snow up to our knees. We managed to cross the tracks and make it to the platform (why we weren’t dropped off at the platform, I have no idea), where we found a small room with no electricity and, obviously, no heat. We all huddled inside, attempted to sleep for a few hours, and woke up and ran out to our next train at 6:00am. Apparently, however, that train split in two, and we were on the wrong half. Off the train we went, down the tracks, and back onto the train, all while trudging through knee-deep snow in our tennis shoes and jeans. We made it onto the train (the right one, this time) and ended up in Targu Mures – where we were greeted with more snow.
Our daily trek through a field of snow to visit and pray for families
in a nearby gypsy village.
Spending time with a gypsy family in their home.
Sara Norton, my beautiful team leader, was raised up into the position of Squad Leader.
Team Sound of Strength, 1.0
My new team leader, Amaris Torres, is an amazing and hilarious woman who fits in with my sisters and me perfectly. Plus, she’s fluent in SPANISH, which will come in handy in a matter of weeks.
Team Sound of Strength, 2.0
We prayed for an elderly Gypsy man named Albie the entire month. Right before we left, he passed away. We attended his outdoor Romanian funeral, complete with an open casket and wailing women. After a few words were spoken, we followed the crowd – and the casket – through the melting snow and mud for about half a mile. Then, we ascended a hill of mud to a hillside cemetery (of sorts). And yes, the made the ascent as well. Once we sang, listened to some men speak, and buried Albie’s casket, we walked back down the hill, where we were immediately greeted with glasses of orange Fanta and buttered bread topped with salami and pickles. Then we stood on the side of the road with 50 or so Gypsies and ate while some of the men took shots of vodka off to the side.
Procession to the burial site.
