Fondly yours...

If I were someone else this post would be very dramatic. I would thank those who read, express my sadness at our separation, wish everyone a wonderful Christmas and a magnificent 2011.

If I were another someone else I would report on the two great news from today: the third place won by the Romanian female handball team against Denmark on their own field, and…the drunk Serbian tourist who fell on and killed the dangerous shark from Shark-El-Sheihk, Egypt.

As I am, the post is about today. I woke up early to get to town by 9, saw the doctor after waiting for two hours but at least I finished Grunberg’s “Blue Mondays”. How fitting! In the afternoon I slept, got a Christmas card from Cecilia and Loic, and took my grandmother to town.

Now I am tired. Tomorrow is the winter solstice; the sun will start blessing us more and more with its presence. It symbolizes a time of rebirth, new beginnings. I could use the opportunity to write a letter to Santa, see if he has space for a small gift for me and maybe pass the wishes for the new year to whoever is taking care of that department.

“Dear Santa,

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Fondly yours,

raluca”

One gear below that of the universe

Some chemical make up created during my run today made me think that perhaps we're too fast.

Assuming the universe or the world we know moves at a certain speed, I often catch myself unhappy when I want things to move faster.  I cannot change anything about the way things happen so expecting for my wishes to become true yesterday is bound to create frustration and unhappiness. On the other hand, whenever I slow down and try to feel the pulse of things and take days as they come, I feel better.

The thought made me think more about speed. We travel faster than in the past, we make friends by clicking a button, we don't even cook a whole meal as much as before, and in most jobs these days everyone is always busy. Maybe one day we will get dizzy and fall like flies. Or maybe not...

If it was not my run, maybe the responsible for these thoughts is the almost full moon.

The tram station

Today I wanted to take the tram to town. Not the smartest idea given the cold outside. But...I wanted to and kept to it even after half an hour of delay when my brother offered to give me a ride. Yes, I am stubborn!

While waiting I recalled a Saturday afternoon in March 2000; it was the day after I got the first acceptance for a university abroad, in Missouri. That was the day when I realized that it might actually happen, I might actually go to study abroad. Little I knew that it was going to take 3 more months to have a final answer and decision about where I was going in the end. Those 3 months I spent every day waiting for letters, e-mails, anything to make it clearer somehow what the future will be for me. It felt like the longest wait but waiting was all I could do.

The tram eventually came.

A post about post writing

This has been a useful experience for me. At the beginning it made me pay more attention to every day that was passing. Then it became a constant process in my head; I was writing paragraphs in my mind wherever and whenever I could.

Later I discovered the "stats" function that tells me the number of pageviews, the countries from where people read my posts; this played with my ego. Some posts were read more than others, some days were getting more pageviews than others, and sometimes a lot of people from countries where I don’t know anyone, were reading my posts. Generally I wondered who read my posts? And why?

I read a few posts myself and promised to read them all at some point after finishing. I have a nod in my stomach when I read them; just like everyone else, some posts I find alright, others purely descriptive, and some even boring.

Probably I will suffer from some withdrawal symptoms; in the end, I did write every single day for the past 100 days and now there are 3 more posts to go! 3!

Who needs Shakira when we have Fuego ?!

Today I could not wake up for half of the day; a very lazy day. But then Fuego happened!

It's that time of the year when the traditions that survived from the past kick in. People get ready for Christmas, clean, cook, and start singing carols. On the 24th of December we still get together with my friends and go from house to house singing carols. We don't make money anymore, we get food and drinks instead; we also forgot most of the carols and use the same two since...since we finished high school.

It's also the time for Christmas concerts. Fuego, a Romanian singer put on fire all the ladies above 60 present in the theater today. He sings beautifully, lifts your mood! However he needs a new designer and some new jokes, although had it not been for the outrageously flashy outfits and the bad jokes, I would have not had the fun I did. Maybe it's a different kind of package: good music, bad clothing and sad interludes.

And I still can't find my friend Dexter!

It's snowy and Elvis is coming home for Christmas

When children sometimes cry, they clench their fists. They clench them so strongly as if their whole world is inside and they need to protect it. When they do that, it's useless to open them; it's like invading a stormy place and bringing even more winds. Instead, hold them; they will slowly open and hold your hand.

Children also hide when they are scared. They build tents in their rooms or just hide under the covers. It feels safe inside. When hiding, they don't need anyone uncovering them or telling them to come out and see the wonderful world. Hide with them! They probably have a story to tell, something must have scared them and with someone else listening by their side they eventually build the courage to come out.

For children between 0-98 years old

The fly killer

Last night I went to bed but a buzzing fly kept me awake until very late.

I thought of Goethe who said that "As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live." and tried to connect it to a line from a song by Morcheeba "The day that you stop running/ Is the day that you arrive.". Then I recalled the worse day of 2010 but slowly the buzzing stopped and I fell asleep.

At 7am the dog started barking. I woke up; worse even, the fly woke up and started buzzing around. That was when I decided to go fly hunting, finish with the little bastard.

In the evening I put my plan into action. 5 victims! For those defending fly rights, rest assured it was a fast death in a warm, cosy place, my room. Dirty job finished I went on to something more pleasant: baking cookies. When the first batch did not burn I did a little pirouette on some radio tune, some Michael Jackson song.

And the day ends. Snow outside, silence inside, good night awaiting. 

Some day we will die

My dentist cannot guarantee for any of the work he does; he just can guarantee to me that one day we will all die.

Last night I thought of those emotional times in our lives when an eminent end of some sort makes us rush to those around us to tell them how we feel. One professor during my MBA asked how many people in the class had told their parents that they loved them in the past year. You would be surprised but I don't recall anyone raising their hand and I know for a fact that at least some of us loved our parents.

Another professor finished his Finance course with three messages: do in life a job you like, spend every year some time on your own, and share your feelings with those dear to you. I forgot the valuation cases but I remember this last lecture.

Tonight I was reminded of death. Someone I knew enough to like died today. Her name is Carmen and she liked my hugs.

Radu

I often wished for an older brother. Instead, I was born first, Radu is my younger brother.

From all the roles I play in the lives of people around me, being an older sister is still a mystery to me. I am not sure if I am doing a good job or any job at all.

Like it happens with other siblings too, we also got closer as we grew older and stopped fighting over who washes the dishes or which TV channel to watch. Since we both left home we've became more supportive of each other so not once I missed having Radu closer to me. 

Radu is smarter, equally lost, and between the two, he is the one who challenged my parents and rebelled against everything that was imposed on him. He loves motorcycles, adventure, girls, and questions life in ways that often are mind blowing to me.

He is my brother and he is home with me now.

My oldest friend

Razvan is my oldest friend. We even have the same initials: RNP.

I met Razvan in kindergarten when we were 5; this makes us friends for 23 years. From there we went to study together both in primary and secondary school, even at the same high school but in a different class. Since he left Arad and I left Romania we meet every year for Christmas. Razvan...it's when I think about the number of years since we know each other that I realize that we're growing older.

He's in town today so we will meet. Me, Razvan, Ioana, Marian and Nena. We are going to miss a few but in just two weeks everyone will be there, moving from house to house carol singing. It's what we do for years now and believers or not, we all love Christmas because it's the time when we are together. They are my friends from secondary school, some of the oldest friends I have and one of the reasons being home is precious.

Ah, my phone...I am off! 

The end of my trip

The train leaving Vienna tonight at 6:50pm reaches Arad at 4am.

In the past six weeks…I have missed meeting Monalisa in Paris, ran blissful after our bus in London, found the Swedish embassy in Lisbon, searched for a matching scarf in Madrid, made friends with Spike in Bremen, flirted with Berlin, slept in the Belgian country side, smoked Cuban cigars in Metz, walked in the snow in Luxembourg, had delicious falafel in Freiburg, bought a book in St Gallen, partied in Zurich, and met my mum in Vienna. 

I could write too many paragraphs like this one; it’s just cutting out a second, a feeling, a smell, a thought, a color from the past few weeks. I have stories, I have travel tips, I have ideas of furniture I want in my house, I have new music, I have...a lot. What I don’t have anymore are those two lines I get on my forehead when I frown.

And so 10 more days are left before I reach the end of these first 100 days.

Sacher Torte

This morning my mum wanted to visit museums, check out exhibitions, enjoy the rich Viennese cultural offer. We went to see the Schoenbrunn Palace, the residence of the Habsburg monarchs. I wondered again how would it have been to live during a different historical period?

Day dreaming ended as we took the metro back to town and went for a walk to Stephansplatz, the center of Vienna. Street shows, freezing wind, puffy snowflakes, and tourists colored our walk. Then it was time for a treat: Sacher chocolate cake! I knew it from my years in Bremen, liked it since then, and today I had it in the place where it's made. A tick on the list of my wishes!

The day is over and in less than 24 hours my tour will come to an end. I go back home tomorrow.

Lucky day in Vienna

I woke up lucky this morning.

At 8:30am, while on the tram to Westbahnhof they caught me without a ticket. My sleepy eyes convinced them that despite all my good intentions to get a ticket, I could not, honestly! At 9:05am I found my mum standing on the platform; she came to spend these last few days of my tour with me in Vienna.

To make it official that it was a lucky day, I found a coin on the street and immediately put it in my shoe...it's something I've learned from Charlie, and yes, most of my shoes have all sorts of little coins inside. The day passed smoothly, Christmas market after Christmas market, street after street. The final lucky touch came at 5:00pm: we got tickets Verdi's "Un Ballo in Maschera". Opera!

Lucky me can finally rest now...in Vienna. 

Lesson from Brazil

This is a dance story from Belo Horizonte.

One night we went out dancing forro, a faster kind of waltz that one dances in pairs. The girls insisted for a friend that came along to take me, the gringa, to dance. He did not find the words to say “no” but he tried hard to get out of it. He expected me to have two left feet and disturb his dancing. He took me to dance nevertheless and soon enough realized that I was not that stiff after all; by the end, he was relived and asked me to dance again later. This was when I wanted to say “no way”.

I spend the rest of the night dancing with another friend; he was having fun every time I was missing the step or turned the wrong way. He enjoyed dancing with me, I was having fun and then it hit me: never dance with people who don’t enjoy dancing with you or better…dance only with people who want to and enjoy dancing with you.

I took this lesson home.

To days!

I bought myself a gift today: a book. In the book there was a quote. I liked it. It’s from “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens. It says:

“That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it and think how different its course would have been. Pause, you who read this, and think for a long moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on that memorable day.”

To days!

Playing in Zurich

My friend was happy to spend the weekend with 3 girls: two Ralucas and a Claudia. All made in Arad.

When you were children have you ever rang door bells and then ran away to hide? At some point during my childhood that was a fun game to play. Last night, we rediscovered it and shamelessly annoyed my friend a few times. Worse, because as you grow older you get better at acting, we got out of it like masters. The perfect crime!

The even better crime we committed today, a wonderful facebook log off. For various reasons and without creating suspicious thoughts, we kept taking his phone. We played with the status, replied to surprised comments, and managed not to burst out laughing while doing this for the whole afternoon. It was team work, girl team work.

A toast for the weekend that brought back games and playing into our lives.

The blast of these 100 days

I did not expect it and maybe that is why it created an explosion of emotions when I saw it: the self-help book for men.

"How to Be the Bad Boy Women Love" is just one title. It made me wonder: if girls are told that being good takes them to heaven while being bad takes them anywhere, and if boys read such books, where is the world going? Are we really doing this now? Being bad to get hot men and hot women to like us?

My second thought about these books was that I never knew they existed. Are they hidden in the bookshop and sold under the counter in a paper bag to confused men searching for answers? Or? Irrelevant. What is relevant is that fact that everyone is looking for answers somewhere and finding a partner keeps busy both men and women.

I have no more answers today than yesterday but the run in the snow makes up for that...and maybe that is the answer.

Die Schweiz

While on the train from Freiburg to St Gallen I thought about responsibility.

On airplanes we are told to first put the oxygen mask on ourselves and then assist the others. Sometimes I think the world would be a happier place if we were to live by the same rule. It sounds selfish to say that you must come before anyone else and yet, what if it’s a responsibility we each have?

Think with me. Right now I cannot find but good reasons why we shouldn't above all try to be fine with ourselves and then take care of the others. When I think of the times I left this responsibility aside, when I expected someone else to look after my well being, I risked being disappointed, and often I was.

And my train just crossed from Germany to Switzerland! A new country to discover.  

Farah=Joy

No, this is not a metaphorical title, "farah" in Arabic does mean joy. But Farah also happens to be one of my dearest friends and yes, the joy meant for 10 people in one person only.

How to describe Farah? She is like my grandmother and mother because she always wants to feed me. She is also like my brother because she defends and protects me even if I am wrong. She is like a child who at night has endless stories to tell and to trick her to finish I have to pretend than I am asleep. She is an incredibly smart woman, an engineer currently doing her PhD on solar collectors. For many, she is above all an amazing dancer because if any from the group had oriental dance in the blood it was her. And yes, beautiful!

She is the friend I am visiting in Freiburg and I am writing all this as she is getting the chai latte ready in the kitchen. We'll chat, have tea, eat chips with sea water salt and pepper, maybe watch a movie and definitely laugh making fun of each other.

Drunk on latte macchiato

After I got my latte macchiato and started walking to meet Farah, I made a few toasts...

The first toast was for Romania and all Romanians because today it's our national day. On the 1st of December 1918, Transylvania joined the rest of the country forming Romania as we know it today.

The second toast was for the snow flakes that kept getting tangled in my hair thinking I could not see them play. They came down from the sky all day long covering Freiburg with a white frost.

The third toast was for all my room mates. I thought of them today: Oliver, Shrradha, Eli, Severina, Benny, Andres, Mitko, Mila, Assaf, Jonathan, Francois, Marion, Evgeny, Jeremy, Alvaro, Cristina, Corinne, Ivan, Femi, Luis and of course, Farah. From them I learned through the years that independently of where one comes from, life tends to flow in a similar way, pose the same questions.

The fourth toast was for the kind Deutsche Post van driver who gave me his printed map because my post-it-hand-made copy of the route got me lost.

Then the latte finished so I could not toast anymore. So I just walked, and walked, and walked...

Ah, German trains

It all went well from Luxembourg to Saarbruecken. Then my train to Mannheim had a half an hour delay and from here to Freiburg I had more connections than I wanted.

German train stations tend to look the same. There is always a backer, Fritz or someone from his family has a café opened, and without exception there is always a shop to buy books, read magazines without buying them, get water or some chewing gum.

I finally made it to Freiburg where I have already met two nice people reinforcing the good reputation the city has. One girl helped me figure out the right stop for the bus nr 11, and a young man returned the glove that had fallen from my pocket. He also made me realize that glove in German is handschuhe which literally translated means "hand shoe"; I was entertained.

But the day wouldn’t have been half as much fun without Hugh’s book. At one point the main character while interrogated by some security authority replies: “ Oh God, I am so fascinated by this conversation I think I might have a nosebleed.” I was very entertained.

Under strange influences

While hopping around various countries, I started being interested in cars, domestic life and McKinsey articles.

Cars I have always enjoyed but I did not pay too much attention to the various brands or other features. Lately though, I look on the streets and pick my favorites; often enough I want to own and drive a nice car. In the "cars to have" for me I listed so far Audi and Volvo but I am open to suggestions; for example, I greatly enjoyed Sophie's Fiat 500.

Domestic life was never foreign to me but lately I observe apartments and their various features, pick things I would like in my own home, get ideas on how to arrange different rooms and altogether, imagine putting together a home for myself. I also pick cooking recipes from the various hosts I have met on my way; from pumpkin soup to speculoos, new risottos and ideas for entrees.

The strangest of all changes was my genuine desire today to read articles from the McKinsey Quaterly. I don't have to mention my lack of interest in the past for you to understand how unexpected my desire came today. Maybe this is a side effect of the strange influences that reign my stars and create all these new interests.

When in Metz...

We started with champagne as apero, continued with wine during dinner, finished with coffee...Irish, it had to be. We danced, smoked a Cuban cigar, sang, tried to go out but the cab did not come, and by 3 am one by one we started falling like dead flies.

I thought of Alexandre Dumas and his musketeers last night. d'Artagnan was my favorite and while reading the books, I was staying up until 6 am captivated by the adventures, the intrigues, the tension, and of course, the jokes and funny situations in which they always got themselves. Mr Dumas came to my mind because it felt like he would be the most appropriate to write about our happy encounter. Just like he describes the feasts in some French inn with Porthos eating too much, Athos and Artemis being the usual gentlemen, and d'Artagnan flirting with one of the inn keepers, Dumas could have written about our dinner in Metz last night.

Some other writer would have to write about the visit to the the Metz Pompidou Center and to the Christmas market where we had a well deserved hot wine.

Bacovia (Romanian symbolist poet) would definitely be the one to write about the Sunday night...it would have the lead tone.

Luxembourg and the gun seller

Sometimes I wish that instead of history and geography classes, I could have toured the world to learn about it by seeing it.

On Thursday night I had dinner in the Flemish side of Belgium. Friday night I was in the Walloon side. On the highway from Brussels to Liege, Astrid pointed out that Liege is indicated first as Luik, the Dutch name for the city, then Liege, the French name, and then by Luik again. It is all a bit confusing to me how all these parts exist and to add another element to the complication, today we drove to Luxembourg.

In Luxembourg I met the gun seller. Dr House, Hugh Laurie when he is not on TV, wrote a book called "The Gun Seller". I was curious to get to know him better and after a bit of reading, I can already find the brains of Dr House in the book. Now I have a book for my tour and for the pre Christmas period.

And I run to get ready...tonight we are having dinner in Metz, France. 

St Nicholas arrived

In Belgium, St Nicholas is expected any day now...

Astrid's parents live in the house where she and her brothers were born. From the kitchen window one can see the snowy hills covered with pine trees. It's cosy inside from the stove and the warm lunch got us both ready for a nap. However before we prepared the dough for speculoos, the cookie that both St Nicholas and I like a lot. Then I slept, fainted really for almost 3 hours.

In the afternoon the grandchildren started arriving. Matisse, Tom and their one month old brother, Louis. Astrid had her hands full and we were all playing games together until someone knocked at the door. It was St Nicholas himself!!! Old and slow he entered the house to bring gifts to the children of the family. Even I got some candies; I must have been a good girl this year after all...

And now I want to sleep, dive in my bed and breath slowly, slowly,...

B2B

Of course this post is not about business despite its title. B2B means that today I travel from Berlin to Bruxelles.

After the snow, the long walks on Unter den Linden, the dinners with Benjamin and Sophie, the meeting with one of the ugliest dogs I have ever seen, it’s time to move on. Oh…the ugliest dog competes with the Peruvian hairless dogs although I have to admit that Luzie has quite a sense of humor and a good heart. She sensed that I was somewhat disturbed by her appearance so she was following me everywhere, touching me with her paw, trying to make friends.

So here I am, at the airport again waiting for the last flight of my tour. After Bruxelles, I will reach all the other destinations by train. 

Later today...

I just have to add this small note on the Bruxelles airport: the Belgians beat the Spanish at building extended, complicated airports! I landed a few kilometers away from where I had to go to pick my luggage and on the way...I could have done all the Christmas shopping. 

Airport experience aside, I made it to dinner with Pieter and his family; while I was doing slides for McKinsey, Pieter and Delphine bought a house and are waiting for the second child! Worlds apart...

The first snowflakes

I expected snow to meet me somewhere on my tour; it did today, in Berlin.

As I woke up, I had a note from Sophie: "They announced snow, if you need clothes check the first drawer." I ran to the window to see the small, shy snowflakes coming down dancing from the sky. They were too weak to lay and form a white carpet but they were persistent and kept falling until late in the afternoon. It's winter, now I am just waiting for that first morning when everything is covered in white puffy powder; it's always a happy morning!

Later today I attended an art exhibition opening in the Pan Am Lounge. I was among artists, art collectors, journalists, critics. I observed them and found it funny how every meeting of people from the same field of work is different and yet the same. For lawyers every single topic can be brought to court or some legal analysis, consultants define a strategy and formulate next steps for everything, doctors diagnose everyone in the room, artists talk about the thickness of the pink line and it's geniality in expressing...something.

Many are the wonders of this world...from its people to snow.

Berlin, where the East meets the West

I went to school in September 1989 while Romania was still under the communist regime. Before the Christmas break, the Revolution had started and we had an extended holiday; Ceausescu and his wife were killed, Romania became a democracy.

In 2001 I went to study in Germany. I needed a visa to enter, and on the way, I spent 4 hours waiting at borders and 4 more hours when the police stopped the bus to check all passengers. In 2004, I graduated but to be able to legally stay in Germany I needed a job. Between 2004 and 2007, I had to go at least once a year to renew my visa.

In 2007, Romania entered the EU and by now I can travel with my ID and stay for as long as I please.

On the 22nd of December, Romania celebrates 21 years since communism ended, just months after the Berlin wall fell on the 3rd of October. How would life had been for me and my generation had the wall remained in place? I never thought of it until today while walking around in Berlin, where the East meets the West.

400 km

Today I drove from Bremen to Berlin with Sophie. It’s around 400 km, just like from Sao Paulo to Franca.

Probably I drove to Franca every month while living in Brazil; it was where I felt most at home. Driving from Sao Paulo on Thursday or Friday night after work was real therapy! The time spent in my car getting there was most of the time like being given air to breath after staying underwater for too long.

The first 320 km to Ribeirao Preto were fast, the last 80 km…like getting on a space ship and leaving the orbit to enter a new world. I drove with the window open to smell the earth and the sugar cane plantations. I have a clear image in my mind of a starry night with Johnny Cash singing while I was getting closer and closer to home.

And so I made it to Berlin.

Walking down on memory lane

Last night we made it till 4am singing Irish songs. 

It felt strangely nice to be back on campus. I recalled the first weeks there, how much I loved it, how great it was to make friends from all over the world. We had floor parties every night, we went around Bremen, got invited to events everywhere and at the end of the first week, we had a great party with paella and free Becks. All those memories and more came back last night.

I cannot  recall those years without recalling the friends I made, Luis, the months spent in Peru, sending 5000 Christmas cards as my first job assignment and everything that came after including the MBA, Brazil, McKinsey. And here I am…

Sometimes I forget about the string of events that led to my present, trips down on memory lane help me get the big perspective…and it’s a nice picture to see.

If you are my friend

Last night at 3am we were still not done talking. This morning we started with a long breakfast and the talking continued…

What are friends for? One late night in August 2007 I was taking the train from Bremen to Paris to start INSEAD. My friends were there singing as the train was leaving. In May 2008 I was wondering what to do with the McKinsey offer I had received; we were in a house by a lake close to Berlin, discussing what to do next. That’s what my friends are for.

This morning we woke up and set the table for a delicious breakfast. We ate, talked. We will leave the house soon, go out for a walk, watch a dance show at the university and then go to the old student bar, The Other Side. That’s what my friends are for. I don’t know any better, and I wish I hadn't tried to learn anything else. 

Today, I am happy to be here where friends are for me just this: a Saturday when I can be just the way I am.

Moving downtown

Some geography: the university is not in Bremen itself, one needs a 25 minute train ride to reach Vegesack, in the North of Bremen.

I spent the whole week here with my adoptive German family. German because they live here but in reality a Dutch-Swedish family. Probably Spike, their dog is the only real German in the family. It's always nice to see them, we always enjoy spending time together and they never stop impressing me with the normal, down to earth way of living every single day. I think it's something from the Dutch and Swedish way of living.

Today I move downtown. From various corners of the country and continent, 6 of the initial members of the dance group are all coming to spend the weekend in Bremen. We saw each other last in August 2009. Since then, I met Farah in Paris a few weeks ago and had the pleasure of spending two months in Sao Paulo with Sophie when she visited earlier this year.

So off I go for a weekend together with the girls: Ozen, Amina, Farah, Sophie, and Fefi.

The Andres trick

Many years ago I worked in the college office of the university. When we looked for a new team member, we had interviews...

Andres, my very good friend, was one of the interviewees. It went fine, he had the profile we were looking for and both me and my boss thought it would be a great addition to the team. What won us over and gave us certainty that he was the one, was a very simple gesture. At the end, he stood up and as he was leaving, he took his cup of coffee to the kitchen and washed it. We still laugh at how shocking we found that simple yet unexpected gesture of his.

Today I had an interview myself. I won't say more as nothing is clear yet in my head but at the end, I instinctively grabbed the glass of water, and a second later recalled Andres' gesture and our surprise.

Alive until I am dead

Let me tell you a tale of two men.

My first friend worked for all his life for the same employer. Day after day, year after year he went to work, took holidays, lived a peaceful life waiting for retirement. One day, it happened: the life after work started! Three years later, he has the time he missed while waiting but nothing seems to get him excited, alive.

My second friend is passionate about Mathematics. He studied for most of his life, wrote books, and worked as a professor pursuing his passion. Time was always his time. He has already passed retirement age but his eyes make him young and as alive as ever.

Granted there is little I can do to influence my story, I set my GPS on an uncertain and unknown destination getting ready for an eventful trip to at least have a chance at not dying before I am dead.

As if time stood still...

Today I woke up in foggy Bremen and went for a run.

Then I visited Jacobs University, IUB like it used to be called when I was a student. Little changed since last year when I last visited and yet it felt different to be back on campus. It felt as if there was even more distance between my time there some years ago and the present; somehow I could truly enjoy being back. I had lunch in Krupp, my old college, and even met Jesus...a classmate. It was beautifully pleasant.

The pilgrimage continued with a visit at my old work place. Walking down from the university to Vegesack I thought of Sao Paulo. If there is an opposite to the restlessness, noise and constant movement from Sao Paulo, it must be this forgotten village in the North of Germany. However the two places cannot be compared and in my world they are good complements; the unfortunate part is that they are an ocean apart.

I met friends, colleagues, and ended the day in the sauna listening to good music. Such can life be in Bremen despite the early darkness, the cold, the empty streets.

Kaffeesahne Milram

In May 2006 I went for the first time on holiday on my own. Destination: Mallorca.

I had two big goals that week: to stop smoking and to relax before the GMAT. The first scared me more than anything, I could not imagine my day without cigarettes: waiting for the bus, walking to work, meeting friends, going out, etc. The GMAT I dreaded too as the SATs left me with a strong dislike for standardized tests.

The week went by just fine. During the day I was on the beach, at night I was playing bingo with my 70 year old new German friends. The final night I smoked my last cigarette and prayed to make it without any from then on. The next day I was already on the plane when I realized that I did not even feel the need to smoke; since then, I felt mildly tempted a few times in Brazil but I am waiting to turn 75 to start smoking again if it will still appeal to me. As for the GMAT… it worked out just fine.

I thought of this story while flying to Germany today; on Lufthansa flights, they still serve Milram Kaffeesahne made in Bremen.

Fried green tomatoes

It was a Sunday some months back, all the way on the other side of the ocean...

To escape Sao Paulo and breath some fresh air, I often drove in a flash the 400 km to Franca, the place that felt like home for me in Brazil. I had a family there and on Sundays we did what families do: ate a lot, watched movies, slept. I recall the Sunday when we watched the "Fried Green Tomatoes" on the cozy sofa. I miss them all!

Today I had green fried tomatoes at a restaurant in Madrid. Interesting choice of a dish. Then the rain came down and the invitation to sleep in the afternoon was too tempting to resist. But I hear the wind blowing and telling me of new countries to see, new friends to meet, and so tomorrow I embark on the next plane; it will take me to Bremen, the other place I call home.

Till tomorrow!

12 hours out and about

Had someone told me about today, I would have not believed it.

We started by picking up Tatyana at the airport. By the way, whoever designed the Barajas Airport...who told you that walking such long distances in an airport was a good idea? In any case, we continued with breakfast around 12 pm and then we walked around Bairro Salamanca until we were too tired and stopped for a coffee.

After the break we went on searching for a scarf and ended up in El Corte Ingles...the same one where almost a year ago we three had to find a dress and shoes for me to wear at a wedding the same night. Shopping finished and we went to Chueca to have Mexican food. Over enchiladas and gorditas we talked about actors we considered hot from the time we were 7 until the present; Robert Downey Jr was voted absolute winner.

Some mojitos later, we're watching Hugh Grant performing his Prime Minister dance in "Love Actually". And Teresa cannot stop laughing!

Viva la vida!

Today was a full day.

I went running in the morning; it was a sunny, beautiful morning. I took a bath, watched House getting into trouble, and by lunch time I was ready to head out and have some food with Teresa. We had some typical Spanish dishes cooked in an adapted modern version by a chef she knows. We walked around, had coffee and decided to finish the afternoon watching a movie.

We found the cinema where they showed the original version of  “Eat, pray, love” and went to see Julia Roberts in action. After having read the book, the movie is somewhat disappointing but the popcorn and the nice company did the trick so altogether it was a nice way to end the day…before dinner.  We met some of Teresa’s friends, headed to a tapas bar and tasted some more delicious Spanish food. We walked back home passing by the Royal Palace and the Cathedral.

It’s Saturday tomorrow, Tatyana is coming… and so, day after day, life happens.

The snail in Plaza de Espana

I reached Madrid and safely got to Teresa´s place.

While walking in Plaza de Espana on the way to Calle Ferraz, I saw my shadow on the sidewalk. It made me think of a snail; just like it, I carry my house on my back as I move from city to city, take flight after flight, and visit friends. I wonder sometimes what am I looking for; I was asked not once about it so I consider the question every now and then while waiting for my next ride. I don´t have an answer.

There were times when moving around was thrilling. It does not seem so much that way anymore. Also, there were times when trying out new things all the time was the purpose behind everything I was doing; I feel I have tried enough not to have this as a purpose in itself but more as a side effect of being curious. It seems at times that what I want are simpler, unexciting things had you offered them to me some years ago but beautiful if I think of them now.

We shall live and see...

What Lisbon is about...

Tonight I assist Ines making dinner.

I am in charge of cutting the mushrooms, she does the onions and the dried tomatoes. Some olive oil and the onions are in for a bath...the smell spreads in the house. Next in line are the tomatoes and the mushrooms. The spinach is taking a tour in the microwave and later will join the rest of the composition. The paste will go in small portions in dough, and then finally in the oven.

Meanwhile, I have to help with the salad. The rice is prepared last.

Music in the background, Teresa asleep upstairs, and wine in the glasses. The meal will be ready soon.

Lisbon has been about tasty dinners, streets uphill, November sun, and families. Tomorrow I am off to a neighboring country: Spain.

Teresa

I have a friend called Teresa and soon we will see each other again. Yesterday, I met another Teresa...

My new friend is 9 months old but refuses to walk and do what other babies of her age do. She is lazy and I love her for that. What I love most though, is her smile; she feels anything from happy to very happy, nothing even close to sad. Her eyes smile, she is a smile, and one cannot but smile when looking at her.

Teresa is my friend's Joao daughter. While at INSEAD there were often times when I felt out of place mainly because I was younger than the rest. Joao was one of the three people that looked after me during the MBA. He was there when I got my first bad grades, also when I had a crush on some student and I  realized it would not work but above all, he was there. Just knowing that was enough. It still is...

From London to Lisbon

I had breakfast and lunch in London, dinner in Lisbon. In between...a sad flight.

In September 2008 I came and spent a week in Lisbon walking around. It was the week before I took the plane to Brazil. On one of the days I went to Belem. I was anxious about my trip to Sao Paulo but I gained some perspective thinking of the fearless explorers who took their boats and sailed across the oceans not knowing what they will find. Compared to them, I knew what was on the other side so I pepped talked myself into it.

Months later that year I was in Belem again. This time though, it was Belem do Para, the city on the Amazon in the North of Brazil. I remember the first time I saw the river; I was not only impressed but I had one of those moments when I realized that I was living something I did not even dare to dream before in my life.

Now I am here again, in Lisbon, visiting dear friends after leaving London and some more...

Extended family

Aside from Radu, my younger brother, I have some sisters too. 

We met for the first time in 2003, all wanting to learn how to dance on oriental music. The first time we were all together, we sat in a circle and each talked about her reasons to join the dance club. None of us expected years after to stick together like family and to have dance as a link stronger than blood sometimes is. Marriages, PhDs, babies, new jobs, moving continents...we are there for each other when it comes to practically anything happening in our lives, through the bad and the good times.

It works like this: I send an e-mail to all asking anything from trivial to more life changing questions. In a matter of hours, a day at most, there are at least two replies. We never discussed this, we don't have rules, we did not even take some oath to be there for the others, we just are. I can't but feel humble when realizing how wonderful it is to have them as a part of my life; had they not been around, many mountains would have been harder to climb.

This is for them.

About crumpets, hot cross buns, and memory

The Brits are not renowned for their delicious food but there are two things I recalled liking during my first time in the UK: the crumpets and the hot cross buns.

The crumpets are round pieces of pierced dough which you toast and then spread butter on top. With some cheese they taste even better… Likewise, the hot cross buns are sweet buns with raisins inside that once toasted and covered with melting butter taste heavenly! A “Lady Grey” cup of tea with milk on the side and the day can start.

I had all these goodies for the first time while living with Nick and his family close to Manchester back in 2000. After 10 years, we met again yesterday to have lunch. Nothing changed; Nick’s voice got a bit thicker but other than that he is the same guy that bit my shoe on the bus from Arad to Brasov when we were still young and stupid.

It scares me how memory works, how it plays with time sometimes making it seem like infinity, other times making it feel like a split second.

And the rain came to London

Yesterday in London it was still October: 15 degrees Celsius, sunny, the perfect fall day for walking around...

November started overnight and it brought the rain. It's that rain like the tears one holds back until one can't anymore and it bursts out crying: the rain drops don't stop falling. With such a weather outside, the best place to be is inside. There is no charm in walking around, taking metros, wandering on unknown streets. Yet, there is something to be outside for...the air.

It smells like wet yellow leaves and with the wind that brings a fresh breeze from somewhere far, it's all so invigorating. I like it!

Classes

I went to school today and I attended econometrics at LSE. Needless to say I had not clue what the professor was talking about but I enjoyed the class and started thinking...

I recalled all those classes I took where I could barely keep my eyes open. Whether in university or at INSEAD, there were always times when I could just not stay awake to pay attention. There were also classes I absorbed and could not have enough of. Most of the times, the distinction was made by the professors. Although completely lost, today I enjoyed watching and following the logic of someone excited about what he was teaching...that was enough to make me stay awake.

Then I thought about how often we feel bored. At times I wonder what happens inside of us as there are so many things to study and discover in this world! A lifetime does not seem enough for everything that there is out there to get to know and yet, we often feel bored not to mention the times we waste with irrelevant things. I will keep wondering...

And with the London cold wind blowing outside, I say "peace out" and till tomorrow.

When the MBA gets in the way…

It seems that somewhere half way from graduation to the 5 year reunion, the majority of MBAs I know go through a crisis.

Many have quitted the job they got right after graduation, some are in the process of quiting as we approach the 3^rd year anniversary. An explanation could be the rush we felt upon graduation to get a job, anything to have an income, repay debts, etc. Some moved countries for personal reasons, others had children, and some simply got bored and want something else.  The point is, change is the constant in the lives of most.

When talking to some of them I am often left with the impression that the MBA is more of a barrier than an enabler for them to achieve what they want. It seems that the degree limits their search to jobs in the corporate world, jobs in consulting, banking or industry. And yet, administration and management is needed in other fields too: education, health, the public sector, the cultural world, you name it.

Why not search there? Why not forget about the MBA and think about the whole package that comprises not only knowledge but also talents, experiences, personality, beliefs and values that somehow are incorporated in each of us? Is it insane to believe that professional fulfillment is tailor made and not a mold that fits all?

50+, Monalisa and Baileys

I made it half way through the 100 days! It's time to start the countdown and if I am not mistaken, it will all end shortly before Christmas. Sometimes I could not even recall writing everyday, yet I did. Hooray! For the rest of the time I will mostly travel visiting friends around Europe.

Today I wanted to say "Hi!" to Monalisa but she does not receive visits on Tuesdays. A pity as it would have been nice to catch up, see how she has been doing in the past years, tell her a bit about my whereabouts, laugh, and say "Au revoir!" at the end.

John accepted visits though, so after a typical cheese and wine based dinner in Le Marais, Kais, Igor and myself headed to his apartment. There were drinks and talks about classical music, Dr Strange Love, INSEAD romance, and security online.

Oh, and there was Ivete Sangalo singing in my headphones as I ran today...I could not stop smiling!

J'adore and I

I cannot forget smells, fragrances.

Does it ever happen to you to walk around and all of a sudden to be hit by a very familiar waft ? The last time this happened to me it was on Friday as I entered the bus from the airport to the hotel; something brought back memories of a dear friend and I was transported a few years back in time.

My olfactory memory does not forget anything. It  knows what home smells like, what my mother used to smell when we were kids, what old friends had for favorite perfumes, what old fragrances I used once and are associated with various times of my life smell like. Just like J’adore; it reminds me of  January 2000 and the trip to the UK. I liked it ever since, it’s a different kind of friend I every now and then enjoy meeting. Like tonight…

Every now and then, come to see Paris!

I wondered how would it be to live here and I realized that maybe visiting is still better...

You know how a place that looks exciting, becomes something you get used to and start taking for granted after a while? Maybe it can happen with Paris, too. Today with Cristina we decided it would be only appropriate to pay the beautiful city a visit once a year or so. Book a hotel, walk around Champs Elysees, take the metro from one end to the other of the city, walk in Le Marais, have coffees every few hours, get to the hot croissants before 10am, speak a little French, and so on. It's refreshing!

I was doing something refreshing exactly a year ago, too: I was in New York for a McKinsey training, the best two weeks in the firm. I never thought I would do some of the crazy things we ended up doing for the final video. Too bad it got lost because it had everything, including dressed consultants throwing each other in the pool, chair races and other dangerous activities...all in the name of team building.

But the Paris air is getting through and invites me for a walk...I cannot resist. Farewell!

The singing bride

I went to a couple of weddings this year. Different countries, different traditions, different emotional moments...

Today, I served the French wedding. The small ceremony took place in a church on Rue du Saint Honore, among all the designer shops and tourists. It was the usual ceremony with a special gift from the bride at the end. Although nervous during the vows, she sang. And how she sang! Amelie's voice filled the space in the beautiful church with such power and clarity one could not but be touched.

And to end this Parisian October day: Fabien and Amelie, many more happy years together!

The day in the airport…

It’s been more than 5 hours since I got here. Foggy morning, no planes landing, no planes taking off, just a party with a lot of strangers in the waiting area.

It started with the security control. The man with the gigantic moustache wanted to make sure that next time I will know to put my laptop in a separate tray: “You will know from now on, right?” he said checking that I have learned my lesson. I took off my shoes but something still beep-ed so I had a full body check. Last time I had such a throughout check was during my medical exam. The group of Italian men waiting for their delayed planes had a blast…front and back, up and down, everything was touched and checked until it was clear I had nothing but clothes on. At that point, though it did not matter anymore, I felt quite naked and in front of an Italian male audience. I laughed, what else could I have done when the police woman was so determined to do her job properly.

Assuming the plane will take off, assuming that the French bus driver from Beauvais to Paris is a kind soul and not on strike, I will eventually make it today.

Paris, j'arrive!

My first foreign language is French. For ten years every textbook had a lesson about Paris.

In 2007 I took the train from Bremen and headed south to meet the elegant city. After I found out about INSEAD, I was often spontaneously smiling just at the thought that I would finally see Paris. A dear friend gave me Parisian metro tickets earlier in 2007; there was no sadness that could take over with those in my wallet...that's how much I wanted to go to Paris.

During the first weekend that I escaped from Fontainebleau, I took the train to Gare du Nord, and then the metro to La Concorde. Everything sounded and looked familiar, I knew all the names of squares, streets, monuments. When I finally reached the Seine I had pathetic tears of joy looking at the Eiffel Tower. For the months that followed, walking aimlessly in Paris was my way to relax.

Tomorrow I start my small Europe tour...in Paris.

Back home, safely

Many things change after just one hour and a half of flight.

Landing in Timisoara, we immediately realized how much colder it had gotten in Romania. La nonna quickly got a second scarf from her bag and wrapped it around her head. We then drove home where there was warm, freshly made soup waiting for us...and then the storytelling started. Where we have gone? What did we see? How is my brother? How was flying?

I don't know if my grandmother ever imagined flying. I enjoyed watching her experiencing this adventure, the fight that seemed to go on inside of her at times: her mind was telling her that she should be scared, sick even, yet she was curious, intrigued by what was happening around her.

I wonder if she will want to take a plane again...my bet is that yes; in the end, we're family.

Da Rome, con amore

We had an early start today with breakfast at the hostel.

The two Romanians working here spotted immediately my grandma because of her traditional clothing. Then my grandma spotted fast two Romanian young ladies from the way they spoke; my quick check revealed they were Brazilian...and with this the "secret" of how fast Romanians can pick up Latin languages should be less of a secret.

We went on and visited Pope's quarters, made it to the Colosseum, walked on the Corso, saluted Traian and the Dacians, made wishes at Fontana di Trevi, drove in a tiny car, had espressos, panini, gelato and pasta, drank some wine...and well, we did as they told us to: when in Rome, do as the Romans do. What a day, what a beautiful city!

Roma, I will come back for some more!

Mamma Italia

Today is a big day.

Firstly, because my grandmother flies for the first time. She is 76 years old, left Romania for the first time two years ago but never took a plane. When I arrived in September she asked shyly if I really thought she could fly. "Of course", I said. And before she knew it, I booked us both on a flight to Rome. My brother lives there with a cousin and her husband, so off we are for the adventure!

Secondly, today is a big day because I have never been to Italy. I always wanted to but never did it. Three days in Rome won't help me get to know Italy but it will probably create an urgency to go back again soon and spend more time getting to know it. Will let you know how that goes...tomorrow.

Ah, Italia, here we come!

It's a short post because it's about pain

Assuming one can write about anything, I realized today that there are some things I don't know how to write about. Pain, for example...

Be it stomachache, heartache or any other kind of ache, I seem to have a natural tendency to humor it or avoid mentioning it. Just like my body wants to stay still and wait for the pain to go away, sleep it off or kill it with pills, so does my "writing" center want to discard it as a subject. Instead it wants me to write about Matt Damon and his hands, watching "Grown Ups" with live comments in the cinema, or the Sunday blues.

But my Sunday was more about stomachache than about beautiful hands or funny comments. Good thing it's ending and I will soon be knocked out until tomorrow morning.

I can commit the perfect crime

As I finally decided to stop fooling around and take seriously the approaching winter, I bought a red pair of gloves. Criminal thoughts aside, my fingers started turning blue every time I was outside. 

It's been quite a while since I have not lived a full winter. I skipped it in 2007 by going to Singapore, and the last two I spent enjoying the Southern summer. I am not fond of cold weather, the good parts of it are the warm things...tea, hot wine, fire places, cozy sweaters, sleeping in, and so on. The snow might be the only cold thing I enjoy about the cold season.

But I am getting ahead of myself as we are still in the harvesting season. The markets are flooded with cabbage, the last tomatoes, seasonal apples, grapes. People still prepare in their homes pickles and fruit compotes. These are probably the last days before temperatures drop below 0 so it's the last chance to get set for the long winter. The wine is also ready, in some weeks the pigs will start being attacked.

To end the day, a trip to the wine festival in town to see what kind of year has 2010 been...

Friday I'm in love

It was a messy day, I felt it that way.

Beautiful sun, crispy air, clear skies. I spent the afternoon with 6 children who started school a few weeks ago. Nothing beats their energy and the speed at which they ask questions, switch activities and start fights. Two hours with them and I could thick "workout" of my list. How do teachers do it? And parents?

The day ended with a concert. A symphonic reproduction of famous Queen, Beatles, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin songs. How great it must be to create something so unique and beautiful that years pass by, world orchestras and choirs, people of all ages and backgrounds know the beat and smile when they hear the rhythm! My favorites for tonight were Queen's "Love of My Life" and "Stairway to Heaven" from Led Zeppelin.

And so ends Friday.

The other Raluca

If the title created the expectation for a Freudian-like post or something along the lines of Philosophy/ Psychology, here comes the disappointment.

The other Raluca is my niece. She is 7 months old and today we met for the second time. She is the youngest member of the family, the first child from the 6 cousins from my father's side. Like everyone else in the family, she has huge blue eyes. Out of the six cousins, I am the only brown eyed one, the "gypsy" or "adopted" one like they used to tease me sometimes.

I feel like the aunt responsible for teaching her some tricks to play on her parents, some pranks to do at kindergarten; the aunt that gives permission for what others prohibit. Everyone needs such an aunt or uncle. I had one, my mother's brother. I truly benefited from his training, he was the one who brought in me the daring side; probably the stubborn one, too. There are some stories...

I have to wait a few months for Raluca to start walking and talking; then we start the course on "How to drive your parents crazy" or "How to be an independent baby". I must prepare!

The optimism disappeared from Romania

Some survey conducted in various Eastern European countries revealed that from all places, only in Romania did optimism disappear.

It's a strange notion...to disappear! In a way it's not shocking given the first few weeks I spent here. Most people call insane my return and even the closest and more positive among my friends give a potential professional future no chance. Why? Those who manage to work here seem to have no choice but to deal with corruption daily, in every transaction, for every move they need to make. Things that could be simple and straightforward are not.

Now why? Why does it work this way when 21 years passed since things started changing? Could it be, like someone recently explained to me, that the change happened only on the superficial level but not in people's mindsets and attitudes? I am intrigued as I often am when I can't find an explanation for Romania being the only Latin state in this part of the world or for the unity of language and culture despite the regional separation that existed for centuries before 1918. Mysteries, puzzles...

I also wonder if my optimism will disappear while being here or if my head in the clouds will save me?

Ich bin, du bist, er/Sie ist, wir...

Exhaustion has taken over today. I don't know why exactly today, maybe it's the rain, maybe it's the run, maybe...I don't know. Could it be my age ?!?!?!?!?#$@&!*

I realized that October is ending soon. Do you have a way of imagining the year? I have a friend who sees years in colors, better said she "feels" a different color suits different years. In my mind, I see the year as a running track in a stadium. My seat is always somewhere in the left as you go in. That is where fall starts, September. The year ends at the right "vertix" of the oval. Maybe a drawing would help me explain better...either way, I have this picture in my mind when I think of the months passing by. November is in a darker area as if the lights were broken there.

What to do with myself today? Watch something? Read? Sleep? Day dream? Check out the "Deutsche Grammatik im Uberblick"?!?!?@#@$#% Exhaustion excites my fun nerves. Dass finde ich prima!

About sciences...natural and social

My old Physics professor and I had a great talk today. He is 80 something but recently decided to revise chapters from his books that he did not pay too much attention to while studying and working.

He was happy to see me and soon we will start with our classes again. Had someone told me that I would voluntarily want to do Physics classes and crave to solve Geometry problems long after finishing school, I would have laughed! Yet, I am more than excited about it and my book from 10th grade is open in front me...I stared at it for a while and realized I needed to go back to 6th grade to remember all those laws I had forgotten.

On the Social Sciences side of life, I have to share the name of a book I enjoyed reading and a movie I watched recently and liked. For reading, John Steinbeck "Of Mice and Men"; for watching, a Romanian movie:"The Rest Is Silence". Hillarious! Also heard only good things about "Wedding in Bessarabia", a 2010 national production.

I am off to solve the math problem: how to prove that the center of mass of a triangle is one third away from the bases and two thirds away from the vertices?

Am I running towards or from something?

Every time I run, I think that one day I will write about it. The day has come.

I found the perfect 30 minutes track.  From home, I run behind the last houses and take the straight, long road towards the forest. Last week there was a dead dog on one side of the street. I got scared the first time, kept my breath and avoided looking the times after that. Today, he was gone, just some bones left. Only the cars that pass by scare me now; with my music on I cannot hear them approaching but my heart skips a beat when they are right next to me.

My brother has a playlist I always listen to. It has 2Pac, Phil Collins, some REM and towards the end AC/DC and other metal bands. I almost never get to the hard songs, they are 50 minutes into the run and by then, not even hard rock can get me to speed as I am already in my steady, zen zone.

When I run I sometimes think, other times I just drift away. I mostly enjoy it but it also feels like hard work every so often. And I still don't know: am I running towards or from something? 

About rain and sailors

This grayish Saturday makes me think of Bremen.

The first 3 years I could not really get used to the weather. Then I somehow started noticing it more and more; not only that, I ended up liking it. There was something beautiful in that harsh climate, something that I always associated with sailors and their trips on open seas. Meeting any of them was always an enriching experience both because of their stories but mostly because of their characters.

Since I left Bremen I always managed to go and visit at least once a year. This year I have not been there yet, but in a few weeks I will be again on the train from Bremen to Vegesack, excited to arrive. I will see friends, colleagues, professors, my old apartment, the park, the river, the bars, the Turkish pizza place, my university.

I will let you know how that goes when the time comes, for now...I am in Cluj, it's Saturday and the rain stopped.

I have a clown on my shoulder

Yesterday, in the Botanical Garden I had a thought. Actually a few…

I was as happy as a child to be walking on yellow leaves among trees that were playing with the sun while feeling the chilly breeze on my cheeks. There are many paths in the garden…some are paved, and some are just trails. I realized how happy I was to alternate, how much joy I felt turning left or right depending on an intuition that I didn’t allow to decide for more than a few seconds. That’s how I discovered the garden! It’s not just gardens that I discover that way, I seem to take every day as a walk through some unknown garden…alternating paths, turning left and right as it feels right for me.

During my walk I reached the greenhouses where they keep the exotic plants. Inside there were all those wonderful tropical plants that in Sao Paulo were growing freely in parks, in front of my building, everywhere. They were at home there, while here they need an artificial home, some protection to be able to survive. Sometimes while away in a climate completely different to the one I know, I also felt the need of a greenhouse. I did not always realize it, sometimes on a superficial level it looked and felt as if I belonged, but often, when all by myself I felt like I needed some greenhouse too...

Finally, the clown on my shoulder reminded me of a friend who says he loves my “insights”. This is for you, two insights to rock your day…

It’s a Jack Johnson day

I woke up aching. My whole body felt tired. The foggy morning made me decide to stay in, watch some House.

By the time I finished two episodes the sun was coming out, the fog had left, and I decided it was time to get out of the house and go about visiting Cluj. Today my destination is the Botanical Garden. I stopped on the way to eat and grab a cup of coffee; I realized again that for some unknown reason, bistros and cafes are full of men during the first part of the day.  Do women not drink coffee in the morning or am I missing something?

My cousin joined me and we had a laugh at some stories from her cases. I heard about Danut's motivation for stealing two bottles of shampoo and a bottle of whiskey, about the serial house robbers who were caught because of a small traffic infraction, and about the divorce case where the wife's witnesses were her husband's three lovers who did now know about each other. 

When watching House or when hearing my cousin talk, I miss not having a clearly defined job. At least not having one yet...

13th of October 2008

In 2008, I arrived in Sao Paulo a month before my starting date at McKinsey to learn Portuguese. My intensive course was great not only because I enjoyed learning the language but because I quickly made friends with my professors.

On the morning of the 13th of October 2008, I was late. I entered the room in the big office building to realize we were 13 starting on that day: me and 12 men. Lucky me to have had the chance to meet them and spend that first week together with them! We were an international bunch either freshly returned after MBAs or freshly starting as analysts. It was a good week; some fond memories and beautiful friendships go back to those days. 

My 13th of October 2010 makes me smile. Today I felt as if someone has entered my mind, took the fantasy of my perfect working environment, and made it real in a house in downtown Turda, 30 km from Cluj.

So today, I dare asking you: if dreams can come true, why not dream? 

The quickie

I just recalled my third year of university...

During the first exam period I organized my time so well to guarantee that I have enough preparation before each exam. In time, as one semester followed the other, my preparation schedule disappeared together with my planning.  Passing through the phase when pulling an "all night-er" was enough, before the exams in my final year there were often times when studying was resumed to half an hour. My results, strangely enough, sometimes were better with less studying...

Writing posts took up to two hours at the beginning. Today is like my third university year...ten minutes writing not to miss my train to Cluj! And off I go...

I so wanted to pick a fight today!!!

I am thought to be a calm person. Most of the time, I even feel calm. Today it's not one of those days.

I am not sure if it was the speed at which I jumped from one task to another, or the sudden need to travel tomorrow, or simply the sun, but today, I had no rest. I had that energy that gets me impatient, rushed, agitated. It served me well when bringing a broken laptop to have it repaired: "You have a guarantee with us but not with us" story...

Not even the post meal lethargy calmed me down. I went to eat from my bowl of soup three times while writing this post! But I know what will do the trick: running. It will clear my mind, exhaust my body, and make me feel like a dizzy fly afterward. And the song on the radio right now...I don't know the name but it's a pleasant, slow rhythm, and a soothing male voice singing.

Did I tell you that I painted the fence today? And some parts of myself, of course...

Rona and Dudu, ze dogs

I promised myself to write at least one respectable post about the two hairiest members of our family.

Dudu is a young, male, crazy representative of his beautiful breed, Romanian shepherd. We are friends but we have a few problems...he confuses sit with jump! Actually he confuses everything with jump. He must be aiming for a kiss, otherwise I cannot explain his behavior. He's a rebel and does everything he wants, not caring whether in dog kingdom his acts are accepted or not; for example, today...he ate nuts!

Rona is the depressed, beautiful, white female we have from the same breed. She used to be wild, wilder than Dudu is right not. When he came along, together with my dad's attention swinging from her to him, a deep sadness overcame Rona. I try to cheer her up, I feed her from the kitchen window all sorts of goodies but nothing seems to get her out of her reflective mood and apathy.

How would the post in their blog about me sound? Tomorrow I will ask...

Tram of freedom

After almost a month, a short report...

I expected to be less busy and forced to dig for things to do. The reality after this first month doesn't match at all my expectations. I don't know where time flew and what I do with it but I seem to have entered a livelier dimension with things popping up all the time. The trips, the meetings with friends, the small projects around the house...I am busy and enjoying every single day just the way it comes.

The more I think of it, the more I realize that this period is a blessing. I did not plan it, I even feared it at some point while still in Brazil, and now...I can't have enough of it. How often in one's life does it happen to have this healthy breath of fresh air? I expect to be old, partially deaf, and with white hair next time the freedom tram stops in my station, and that is many years from now...

Almost a third away from the 100 posts mark, I check my pulse and it's good, very good.

Letter to drivers, sellers, and business men

I inherited for the weekend my dad's Ferrari. Oh, thy great driver out there, come and take the old Renault for a spin, and then stretch your arm muscles to avoid pain the next day!

Tom! Cruise, I mean...my mission to buy tomatoes, potatoes, and peppers from the market...accomplished! I did not pick the right tomatoes but I did some veritable market research before buying. Oh, thy market seller, you thought I was a clueless babe shopping in the real market for fun when you asked for twice the price! Oh, oh...I pity thy you for I am trained!

And thy mighty business man, please import condensed milk to my country! How can I make pudim otherwise? Tomorrow, we shall see if pudim with my own version of condensed milk pleases the gods. But truth be told, what can go wrong if one mixes milk, eggs and a lot of sugar?

But...my dearest reader, nothing gave me more pride today that getting the router to work. For normal mortals an easy task, for lazy me when it comes to technology...a true achievement!

Pardon me, someone is knocking at the door. Thy magnificent weekend...you arrived!!!

Keep your love letters, throw away your bank statements

It's from the "sun screen" video on youtube. I thought of it today as I was organizing my room. Piles of papers...some relevant, others less so.

I found everything from my grades from primary school, to my university applications, language diplomas, job offers, and of course, bank statements. I threw away many things but kept the ones I still find relevant. Among them, I kept everything that has somehow to do with my first year of university. It was not just my first year of university but the very first year of the university itself. It rocked!

My INSEAD related papers and souvenirs from those months are also precious for the simple reason that I did not want anything as much as I wanted to get into INSEAD. Finally, there were the love letters, the birthday cards, the secret notes exchanged during classes, the letters to myself testifying one or another event from my life.

Needless to say that reading these letters from the past made me smile, and I could not be but grateful not to find a single one to make me frown or feel anything but joy.

My boxes arrived, gypsy life is on hold

I am exhausted. I went running in the morning with my black belt friend; this usually kills my day but today I survived. If running in the morning did not kill me, unpacking my boxes from Brazil did.

The boxes with books and CDs are easy to deal with as they are stacks of regularly shaped objects to place on shelves. Unpacking cups is the best: a big box with a few objects that find easily a place on some shelf in the kitchen. Now, boxes with clothes are a pain...take, arrange, plan where to place,... I wonder how do those with many, but many more clothes do it? Yes, I have a few people in mind...

Do you hide in your own luggage small things to surprise yourself later? I do. I had two nice surprises: a pan I bought in Sao Paulo to make "pudim" after Marcia's recipe, and some "Sonho de Valsa", the white ones, delicious chocolate candies from Brazil. It almost felt like Christmas!

In my house, we free ride

It's been getting colder and colder. -4 degrees at night now but +25 degrees expected next week...*$#^@!


With the cold weather, the mint tea at night before sleeping is becoming a tradition. And so is the fact that my mum free rides this ritual. Her cost of not having tea is 0 while mine is higher; as a result, she always has a cup but never prepares it.

Tomorrow morning is my revenge: I get to free ride for a cup of coffee. My mum needs coffee in the morning, I can do without. Given that she makes it anyway, I get my cup with milk, and some extra minutes of sleep. Uahahahahahaha!


I had my tea, I can sleep. Sweet, sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet sleep!

Mafia and the wisdom pill

Have you ever played mafia?

Three criminals wake up in the peaceful city while everyone else is asleep; they kill someone. Then, they sleep too, and the two policemen wake up to investigate potential murderers. When they go to sleep again, the doctor wakes up and tries to save a soul. Finally, in the morning, the dead victim is announced, and the city starts debating potential criminals.

Tonight, the three loudest men were thought to be criminals; they were innocent. Then the silent unknown guest, me, was suspected...I was innocent too. Funny how our minds incriminate and build stories about the others! Funny how we analyze a glance, a smile, a comment, a certain behavior, and form opinions!

In games and not only, we seem to project and assume more than we try to understand. Maybe it's easier...

How the adventure ended...

In continuation to yesterday's post, I have to add a short report on how the night went on. There were two significant moments: the dance on folk music, and the car accident we had on the way back.

Romanian folk music can be a sport. Also, in my region, a couple has to dance three songs together making the whole experience a 15 minutes workout. Last night, the master of ceremony whom we call "dracul" (the devil), took me to dance. We performed actually; I never danced as much on folk music, nor did I really get it right but I turned, turned, turned, and followed "the devil".


We finally took off from the feast around 3 am and while driving back, we hit something. We figured it must have been a badger but whatever it was, it destroyed the car radiator. So there we were, in the middle of a small village in the mountains, searching for shooting stars, and teaching Astrid some Romanian words while waiting for someone to pull us all the way back to Arad.

The adventure ended at 6:30 am, beating the record from the previous night. Then Sunday came and left quickly. For the new week: bonne semaine!

The wedding crasher

I never crashed a wedding. Today I will. My companion is Astrid, Tom Sawyer if I am Hucklebery Finn.

It was not a plan, until two hours ago it was an abandoned idea but then...how to resist the temptation of attending a real traditional Romanian wedding, with gypsies singing and all? So we got dressed and ready for the celebration, off we'll go in a short while.

To the newly weds whose celebration we will attend...many happy years together and "casa de piatra"!

28 and a white rose for the year to come

The other day I thought of the past 9 birthdays. 6 were in Germany, 1 in France and 2 in Brazil; this one is in Romania.

Out of the same 9, 2 were complete and amazing surprises with smartly dressed male friends handing me roses while I was being led blindfolded from one to the other.  One was incredibly sad and lonely, and another one I spent crying in an airport because I could not board. The rest were pleasant days I generally spent with friends. This one...I spent it so far with my grandma and with my parents.

I finished the work I had to do around the house, had a special Bucuresti cake with an improvised candle on top, made a wish and blew the candle, now I can run, jump in my bed, listen to loud music, get ready, and finally go out!

Wet paint!

Today I finally did it. It's been on my mind for a long time but I never got myself to do it. Today, I had everything I needed so I set down to do the job. I painted the bathroom window in white. It used to be white but the color washed off and turned into a shade of yellow in time...now it's freshly painted in white.

Firstly,  I thought it would be quick...it wasn't. A double window has a lot of edges, corners, sides...phew! Secondly, I needed my arm muscles to spread the paint evenly until my dad brought the diluent and made the paint more fluid. Thirdly, after a certain point it became a challenge not to get painted myself...I could not grab just from anywhere, I could not lean of any side of it, ah...

I did it though! The next window is the kitchen one...I will probably take a day, be exhausted at the end, have sore muscles, and a considerable quantify of paint on my hands/blouse/hair. Needless to say how much I enjoy doing these things; or how much I enjoyed my run in the park by the Mures today; or just how much I enjoy being in Arad, sleeping in my bed, having mint tea at night, greeting street corners, benches, trees, alleys...

Ode to the "would do-ers" in us

To do or not to do? That is the question. What makes us do things? There are books answering, experts researching the subject. Motivation, will, desire...not a very clear answer, many theories and guesses.

Sometimes I simplify things, sometimes I think that the only obstacle in front of us when we are not doing something is not wanting to. Yes...sometimes, with some things, with some people, it's not a clear and simple rule however, I have seen often enough people doing something outrageous by their book just because they wanted to.

And so the cold weather arrived to Arad, my wardrobe is done, and I am feeling good...just like Michael Buble singing about the new day, the new dawn...

Saadeh and the orange shirt

I was in the theater tonight for a concert. It felt like being in the small theater in Fontainbleau almost 3 years ago. Memories of one winter evening came back to me; I was getting ready for my 30 seconds dance in front of a packed hall. I was not nervous, just curious. What to expect from a new audience?

It did not take more than a few beats for Saadeh to stand up and cheer like no one ever cheered for me. He was wearing an orange shirt, and from the stage I could see his blue eyes and smiling face. And boy did he cheer...

Tonight in the theater I thought of him. He passed away a year ago. These lines are for him.

Frequent train rider

My friends Alin and Oana suggested to open a "frequent train rider" account given my numerous trips by train. I just made another one...9 holy hours on a slow train we call fast from Iasi to Cluj. I slept for the most part but I arrived and feel as if an army marched all over my back.

I am in Cluj again and because students are starting university soon I had a thought about the times when I was a student. I don't know how it is to be a student in Romania, I was one far away from home. Some things seem to be the same though...the excitement at the beginning to see again friends and classmates, people coming back after the summer a bit changed, moving boxes and piles of papers from where they have been stored over the holiday, the buzz...

Bremen...that's where I lived all this for 3 years as a student, and for almost 3 more as an alumn. Good times, very good times!!!

Iasi

I've never been to the Eastern part of Romania, Moldova, just like the country. I have heard, studied, and read about it but never made it.

The day I spent in Iasi was a preview of what Moldova is all about: a large part of the Romanian identity comes from here, from history and culture created here. Names I have studied in school, books I enjoyed reading as a child, and many History classes came back to life today. My favorite part was visiting the house where Ion Creanga wrote his "Memories from My Childhood", a book through which all Romanians became playmates with the writer as he was a child at the end of the 19th century.

My afternoon ended with a contemporary story. "Tuesday, after Christmas" is one of the latest Romanian movies positively welcomed at Cannes this year. A story about adultery destroying a family, enjoyable dialogues but not the kind of movie that can beat the Sunday evening blues...Ray Charles is though.

Dreams

It always happened when I was home for a break that my brain unloaded through dreams. I remember coming back from Bremen and dreaming with exams or people from the university or later, with work and my colleagues. My explanation was that somewhere, my brain must have stored these experiences and released them while sleeping peacefully at home.

I did not dream much since getting home last week until some days ago. Friends I made in Germany are in the same room with friends I made in Brazil; sometimes I work as a consultant in Bremen or deal with ships in Sao Paulo...it's a ghiveci. 

I wake up tired but understanding...it's holiday for my brain!

Olufemi

One of my good friends from university comes originally from Nigeria. After graduation we lived together in Friedrich-Humbert Strasse in Vegesack, close to Bremen. We even worked together for a while. Femi came to visit Romania one Christmas in 2003 so she got to know my friends from home, my family, my country. We saw each other last 5 years ago...

Correction: we saw each other last just one hour ago! Femi came to Romania again, this time with her sister who studies Medicine in Iasi. So there I was...waiting for a plane from London to bring to Bucharest my Nigerian friend whom I had not seen in such a long time. Like every single time when I meet good friends I had not seen in a while the feeling was the same: as if we saw each other last yesterday, as if 5 years were just a dream.

How does that happen? Will this ever change or does time when it comes to good friends really become so relative that years feel like days?

Luceafarul

While on the train last night I realized that it was full moon. Right below the moon I saw one star. I recalled "Luceafarul", the name of the first star to appear on the sky, and the title of one of the most famous Romanian poems written by Mihai Eminescu, our national poet.

Later during the day while on the subway, a homeless young man got on and started reciting the whole "Luceafarul", not more or less than the 98 verses. Lovely story, sad love story about an impossible relationship between a beautiful princess and the shinning star.

A fost odata ca-n povesti/ A fost ca niciodata...

23rd of September 2010, Bucharest...having a coffee in the McDonalds in Unirii subway station and listening to a conversation between a 10 year old boy with freckles and his grandfather. The serious topic: what to wear at the birthday party of a girl from his class?

Bucuresti is...

...the name of my favorite Romanian sweet. I am not even sure of when I developed the great passion for this cake, and I don't know why. It is incredibly sweet, so sweet that I cannot have more than one at the time, and it has a thick layer of GREEN cream! Yes, very green, completely unnatural green cream. Whatever the color or amount of sugar, it's delicious and addictive, and part of my routine every time I am in Romania.

...my destination for tonight. My train leaves Arad at 7 pm and reaches the capital almost 12 hours later. We will choo-choo our way east inside the Carpathians, pass Sibiu and Brasov, and then go South towards the Romanian Plain till we reach Bucharest. This route reminds me of summer camps by the Black Sea back in school; how great it was to escape home for 10 days and be "independent" at the beach!

The blog after the nap

My day before my afternoon nap was domestic. I ironed, washed, cleaned. I realized that my structuring and problem solving skills will be of great help during my stay at home. It's an enjoyable project, I see results right away. It all started with a a basic need for wardrobes given that I am moving everything I had back home.

After my nap...wait, the nap is key! One of the priviledges of not being employed and staying at home is the afternoon nap. Today I did not even sleep but jumping in bed for a while in the middle of the day is simply nice. When you think that as a child I used to hate napping after school despite my parents telling me how great this actually was...they were right, they have been right quite often.

My day continues with a visit to the notary; what a blessing to start dealing with bureaucracy, papers, etc! A far more pleasant thought this afternoon was about the bolo de mexerica, freshly made somewhere 10.000km away from where I am...ah, I miss it together with everything and everyone it makes me think of! Have you tried the best cake in the whole world?

Today I ate a nut, bought a door, and ran

Today the Oscar for the best food goes to the nut I found in the grass in the front garden. Every fall the huge nut tree in front of our house gives us piles of dry leaves and nuts. It's been ages since I ate green nuts; they are bitter unless you remove their peal. No, my next text won't be about hugging trees...


The Oscar for the best movie for today goes to the shop visit to buy a white door with my dad. It was a tough negotiation but really...why would a door 88, 78 or 68 cm wide cost the same? And why do I have to be recently married or living in a new house to get a discount? I am learning. We got the door, tomorrow we start building the new wardrobe!



The Oscar for the best second act today goes to the dogs on some back street where I live. They pulled such a great act: they barked loudly and ran so fast behind me that they had me convinced. They stopped and ran away as soon as I leaned down...they always do, but boy they got me scared!



The final award today goes to the town where I live, to its people; the houses are freshly and happily painted, the streets are newly paved, flowers and trees are planted everywhere...bem arrumadinho, like one would say in Portuguese. Chapeau to them!

Beauty

9 years ago I left home and had a whole set of expectations from the world. Among them, I was leaving with a fairy tale about prince charming; he was the one man each girl out there was meant to find at some point and live happily ever after. Furthermore, I left convinced I had found mine…

My story is like any other story; more important to me than other stories but in all other aspects just like yours, only colored differently. What I made out of it could be different; the way we absorb the experiences we have seems to differ more than the experiences themselves. Painfully and slowly I realized that there was no prince charming. It was not from lack of trying because believe me, I did manage to delude myself into his existence for a while. Unreal things fall apart, fairy tales lose their magic, and something marvelous then happens: one starts seeing! The world was always there, I could have asked, I could have observed, I could have...I did not. In long runs I learned that I have my rhythm and that if I wanted to finish, I had to run the way it felt right for me...neither faster, nor slower. And so I am with everything else, learning as I go by in my own way, at my own speed.

I am not sure of what is it that I actually learned. I have not become smarter, that's for sure. Some knowledge and experiences get in the way more than they help. Maybe the only thing that did improve is how well I know myself now, coupled with the increased acceptance of my own imperfections. If as a teenager I thought I was my own Creator who aimed to reach some heavenly perfection, now I know I am humanly imperfect and aim to grow old beautifully with someone just like me: imperfect. 

Fairy tales would make it all easy, they would guarantee a certain outcome, happy preferably. In reality, there are no guarantees...all there is it's a constant interaction between my limited and imperfect self and the world. And that's where the beauty lies.