Life in a Transylvanian Hollow

Interior of a 15th century church, Muzeul Civilzatiei Populare Traditrionale

After several hours exploring the Muzeul Civilizatiei Populare Traditrionale (an outdoor museum of traditional Romanian architecture), we headed out to the village of Densus where Paula's family is from. Her father, Pauline now lives in the house her grandfather built, and he is basically the handyman of the community, always running out to help somebody with something. When we arrived, the first thing Pauline did was to treat me to a taste of his homemade tuica, a plum brandy that is commonly made in the countryside, sort of like moonshine, but sweeter and not quite so strong.

True country hospitality - Pauline serves up his tuica

After we enjoyed our taste of tuica, it was time to head into the village take care of one of Pauline's most important jobs  - ringing the church bells to let people know about the Sunday service that would take place the next day. He invited us to join him, as the church is the oldest active stone church in Romanian, built up from stones of a pagan Roman site into an Orthodox temple sometime in the 1300s. You can still see original pillars and stones from the Roman times.

The oldest active stone church in Romania, estab. circa 1300

One of the stone pillars from the original Roman temple

Off the beaten path is where I feel most at home, and I immediately fell in love with this place in SW Transylvania.

The village of Densus - a little piece of heaven

If it weren't for such old buildings like the church, I would have almost thought I was back home in a place that is a cross between western Oregon and Appalachia. The village is in a depression sort of like a very big cove - a wide prairie encircled entirely by mountains. On three sides there are rolling green hills that remind me of Appalachia, but on the south side are the majestic snow covered Carpathian peaks that look very much like the Cascades.


Pauline and his girlfriend Felicia have a nice life here in Densus, and I was so happy to find myself in this little village, in the company of such good people, being treated to homemade tuica and enjoying a full moon sitting out in the yard in the company of two very sweet dogs - Lady and Rex.

My new buddies - Lady & Rex

Home sweet home in Densus

The next morning we headed out into the area of mountains where there used to be a lot of coal mining and visited the Sunday flea market in the town of Petrosani. I found myself some little treasures and felt even more how similar and parallel so many places really are.

Sunday flea market in Petrosani

In the evening, we headed two villages down from Densus and walked up to where Eli and Paula bought a farmhouse that they plan to fix up.

Walking up the hollow to explore Eli and Paula's place

Their place truly won my heart, a little Romanian hollow so much like Judy Branch and other pieces of heaven back home in Appalachia. Walking along the little creek to the head of the hollow, the hills rise up on all sides to nestle the old homestead in among cherry, plum and pear trees. There's a lot of work to be done, but I can see my friends making this into their own little paradise.




As we strolled around the hollow, the setting sun cast a sparkling glaze over everything, and I felt a familiar feeling that I would often feel once I made it home to Judy Branch. A feeling of total contentment of being just where I am. This is a special place, and I certainly hope and plan to return again and again.

Eli and Pauline's homestead at the head of the hollow

Romanian Road Trip - Day 1

After landing in Bucharest and enjoying a lovely evening sitting in an old courtyard cafe, Eli, Paula and I made plans to get out of the city and explore the Romanian countryside for a few days before the madness of May 1st and the ensuing holiday parties (Labor Day and Easter) begin. We hired a car the next day and, after navigating the chaotic city traffic, we made our way out and headed to Cetatea Poienarul - the remains of a 15th century fortress famously used by Vlad the Impaler (the guy whose reputation led to the Dracula myths).

Vlad the Impaler's fortress

He was a fairly brutal guy, and those who crossed him often got impaled - as illustrated in their unique display. Apparently if this was your fate, it took approximately 3 days for you to die.

Our fate was very sore calfs after climbing up the mountainside via a network of about 1,700 stairs.

Our next stop was in Curtea de Arges, where we visited a beautiful 16th century church.

Curtea de Arges

Then onwards, to stay a night in Sibiu, known as the original powerhouse of Saxon Transylvania, where the buildings have "eyes."

Sibiu

The Eastbound Migration

Live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry - Jack Kerouac

I'm not sure if it had something to do with the weather (70 degrees and sunny), but today, the Portland Airport was the happiest airport I think I've ever found myself in. From the ticketing agent to the TSA agent, everyone I encountered was in what I can only describe as a jolly mood.

Oh Portland - I even love your airport!

I am now writing this from the skies over the mid-west, on my way to Chicago where I will catch a flight to Munich, and from there onwards to Bucharest!

Somewhere over Europe

I am pretty impressed with myself in terms of how little stress I had in getting packed or simply getting out of the door. I've embarked upon my journey with just a small carryon backpack and my shoulder bag. It's funny how hard I usually find it to pack that little bag for a weekend away, but for this adventure, I managed to squeeze in all I need for 2 weeks, plus 4 bags of coffee and my hiking boots!


It's always heart wrenching to see the solemn look in Bella's eyes when she realizes I'm going away. That part is the most difficult. But today I was in the same boat as all those other folks working at the airport. You can't help but feel light and happy when Portland gives you a beautiful spring day like today!


The Bird Has Landed

When I landed, I found that Bucharest is enjoying the same blue skies and warm weather as Portland.

My first glimpses of Bucharest

Paula's windowsill plant has a wonderful story.

Fast forward and I'm drinking coffee in the Bucharest home of my friends Eli and Paula. I love their place. It's quirky and cozy and there's a little succulent plant on the kitchen window that has quite a history.  This plant survived, forgotten in a pocket for months!


From what I've seen so far of it, I love Bucharest. We had a lovely dinner in an outdoor courtyard of a building I had on my list of must-see architecture. Hanul lui Manuc was built by an Armenian merchant in 1808.

And now for some more photos!

My wonderful hosts: Paula  & Eli

Hanul lui Manuc

Serenaded by a Romanian fiddler at Hanul Lui Manuc.

Fly away, little pretty bird

Meet my Judy Branch Family - Bill & Billy Jo Caudill

In a few hours my adventure begins. My bag is packed and waiting by my bedside. I'm all ready to go. But my heart, just for now, is on Judy Branch.

I am no stranger to grief. Those of you who know me well know that I have experienced quite an extraordinary share of loss in my short life. While death of loved ones is something quite familiar and frequent for me, it never does get easier.

People talk about how their hearts get broken. I've often found myself thinking that my heart just can't break any more than it already has... But the thing is about hearts is that they are muscle. You can strain them, you can sprain them, you can tear them. Hearts can ache, they can get out of rhythm and they can become diseased. But they don't break. Somehow, until you die, they just keep on beating.

I have always been attracted to Buddhist teachings, and in many ways I try to live my life along those lines. The hardest part for me has always been attachment, though. I get attached to the people in my life. I love them dearly.

I'm sure that part of my path to healing will be to bring up all the ghosts of my life and deal with my attachments to people who have left this world. But for this moment, I just want to honor a very special person who passed away today.

If you read my Judy Branch blog, you'll be reading about a life made possible because two very special people basically adopted me into their family and invited me to live out on their land.


Not only did I enjoy old time music and square dancing with Bill & Billy Jo Caudill, I learned how to work the land and how to honor it at the same time. We talked about how to keep deer and raccoons out of the gardens and discussed Wendell Berry's writings. And when I had a crisis with a hornet's nest or a rogue pressure cooker, they were always there to help in a heartbeat.


They invited me to join them for family gatherings and opened up their place and their kitchen to host visiting musicians I brought out to the hollow.

I feel honored that Bill & Billy Jo Caudill adopted me into their family and welcomed to live on Judy Branch. My heart is strained right now at the news that Bill passed away today. But I know that he would have been so supportive and interested in my adventure, which begins in just a few short hours. So even though my heart is aching right now, I am going to fly away with joy as well as grief in my heart.


This is the song in my heart right now.

A heart out of rhythm

In less than a week, I'll be on my way to Romania.  I'm excited, but today all that is on hold.  Today, for the second time, my Dad is at Vanderbilt Hospital having a procedure done that will hopefully correct the arrhythmia in his heart.  All this started several years ago, and to my surprise I found that I had written about it in the very last post I ever did in Life After Judy Branch.

Today, my thoughts are swirling with reflections on the heart and hopes and fears for my dad.  Words are hard to come by in my current state of mind, so it's lucky for me that what I wrote back in 2009 speaks so clearly to how I feel today:

"When I was a child I would, every so often, find myself lying in bed both terrified and engulfed with a mixture of panic and grief as it hit me that one day I may have to face losing my grandma, my grandpa, my mom, my dad, my brother... The grief was like a two-ton stone in the middle of my chest. It was agonizing . . .  This week, I was reminded of those feelings. The terrifying realization of how fragile life is, especially the lives of the people you love dearest."   

The procedure my dad had today was minimally invasive, and if it works, it will hopefully keep his heart in rhythm.  I know my dad would be so frustrated if he had to live the rest of his life taking lots of medicine or with a Pacemaker in his chest, and so I hope that the second time is a charm.  Afterall, he has a month-long trip to Africa coming up in just a few weeks!

Intellectually, I know that this was a routine procedure, nothing to worry about.  And my dad is in good hands, some of the best from what I've heard.  However, I just can't shake that familiar agonizing feeling.  What would I do without my dad?  Could my own heart handle losing him?

Me & Dad - circa 1982

For now, I will focus on the relief that I feel knowing that he is now out of surgery and the innumerable blessings that he has brought to my life.  

Thank you Dad for raising me to love nature, explore the world through multiple lenses and to above all else, lead a life of compassion, humility and love.  With all my heart, I wish that your heart is restored to a steady rhythm that will keep you marching in time for many more years and adventures ahead.

Tools of the Trade

When I was around 14 years old, my dad gave me his  Pentax K1000, a great 35mm film camera that became a powerful muse for me.  As a teenager, my friends and I entertained ourselves by roaming around backroads, graveyards and woods with our cameras. Once I learned how to use the dark room, photography became my main passion.  I could spend hours on end in the darkroom, trying to get that "perfect print."

My first love - the Pentax K1000.

Photography still remains my preferred method of expression, but since moving over into the digital realm, my relationship with the camera has become more distant and fleeting.  I love my little Canon point and shoot, and I've found that I can capture some gorgeous scenes on my iPhone.  However, my relationship with these tools doesn't hold a candle to what I had with my K1000.

One of my primary goals going into this adventure was to rekindle my love for photography, and a big part of that was finding a camera that I could truly connect with in a way that honors the relationship I had with my K1000.

I am happy to report that I believe I have found my new muse:  the Pentax Q.

I'm falling in love with my Pentax Q

What I love most about this camera is that it feels familiar - like a miniature version of my K1000. While it has a lot of the bells and whistles we've come to expect with digital SLR cameras, the body emulates the old film cameras, the lenses screw off and are interchangeable, and I can set it to be 100% manual, with the focus ring on the lens.  Yes!

You'll be seeing a lot from this little camera and I hope you'll enjoy following along as I explore new places and get to know my new muse.

I've already discovered one of my favorite settings - the one for photographing food.  Since I especially enjoy how my friend Colleen posts photos of the interesting things she is eating as she travels the world, I believe that I will follow her lead and also use my blog to share my culinary adventures.  I took my camera for a test drive at Bamboo Sushi last week and was rather happy with the outcome.

Seaweed Salad

The Green Machine

Taylor with sake

Sticky Bun

The bumpy road to Romania, writing and "me"

The mouth of the Columbia River from Astoria 

Some of you know the story behind this adventure.  It all started with me getting so lost that I no longer really knew who I was.  All my happiness, all my sense of self-worth had become directly linked to how well I could help my friends or family, perform my job or care for others.  Along the way, I simply stopped caring for myself.  And then I forgot how.  Writing, photography and creative projects fell by the wayside.  I lost my energy, I lost my joy, and I lost my mojo. Simply put,  I lost "me."

Depression is a hard thing to admit, and it's even harder to talk openly with others about it.  When you base your worth on helping others and trying to "save the world," feeling depressed is not something you want to own up to.  It seems so selfish to feel down when you know there are so many other creatures in the world in such worse conditions than you could ever imagine.

Trying out the macro setting on my new camera

But depression is real.  And it can destroy you if you don't figure out how to get out of it.  I've been living with depression for as long as I can remember.  It wasn't until this fall that I finally accepted that this was no way to go on living.  I needed to act if I was going to live.

Since then, I've sought out help from a psychiatric nurse, a naturopath, an acupuncturist and I even got a free massage from a good friend who figured I needed it.  It's been a rocky road.  Zoloft was a disaster - causing anxiety and insomnia when I was on even small doses and giving me constant vertigo as I now go through what seems like a never-ending withdrawal.  Acupuncture and body work have helped provide short term fixes. I've rediscovered how much Buddhism and music help me feel comfortable in my own skin.  But this trip.  This is what has really kicked me into gear.

For the first time in I don't know when, I'm honestly excited about something!  I'm inspired to learn how to use a new camera, energized by the prospect of exploring a new place and filled with joy and anticipation of a long-awaited reunion with one of my dearest friends.  I'm making time to meditate and write almost everyday.  I am putting myself on a path that I want to stay on, and I hope you enjoy joining me as I embark on this journey.

iPhone photo taken one of  my many daily walks