anomoly

After spending nearly 24 hours I've finally arrived in Ploiesti. Our modern sense of time is funny. I was drinking at an airport bar with another person joining me on this trip. Our audible defense we just wanted to drink so it'd be easier to sleep on the plane...when we both knew we were trying to pour some courage on the nerves that had knotted up our stomaches. We were forced to make small talk in a further attempt to put off our impending realities. I found myself bitching about how horrible the next day will be, how I can't believe I have to spend 8 hours in a cramped space followed by another two hour jaunt with my knees banging against the back of the tray table when it suddenly hit me that not more than 100 years ago, a journey of this nature, would literally take months to do. And here I am bitching about the absence of legitimate movie selections and not a wide enough array of vegetarian meal options. But after enduring the knee cramping, swollen ankled trip I'd just taken...a boat would've been a hell of a lot roomier!

In the airport, I was still drinking with the same friend, a group of men walked by us. The had long peyes, a top hat, and they were all wearing Talit. My friend leaned over to me and immedeatly asked, 'Zack, I thought the Amish weren't allowed to fly?!' And without missing a beat I replied, 'Oh they aren't Amish, they're Mennonites...they can still fly!'

The flight itself wasn't bad, I dodged a huge bullet when I walked onto the plane and found my seat to be in the middle of a row of three. It turns out I was sandwiched between two women over the age of 60. One weighed about 120 pounds...and the other weighed about 120...in kilos. Needless to say it was not a pleasant experience. Thank G-d I looked over my shoulder to see someone else with their own row, so I got up and went to crash that party.

Arriving in Romania was surprisingly uneventful. I wish I could say I had some grand epiphany or feeling of fear...but really it was just kind of like getting off an airplane, from anywhere. We took a bus from Bucharest to Ploiesti, about 60 km. I had heard horror stories about how boring and industrial Ploiesti would be, but to be honest, I find it quite charming. Maybe it's the weather, a comfortable 65-75, or the beautiful women (which there are plenty) but I think it's the comfort of knowing I'm the best dresser in town. I've never seen so much denim with zippers on it. And I'm not talking about a zipper for a pocket instead of a button, I'm talking about literally, 25 different zippers strategically located throughout the same pair of jeans...it's unreal. Our first meal was interesting...but in all actuality there isn't much to complain about. Our first course was fried cheese with tomato...I guess its kind of like a mozzarella sticks, except it wasn't mozzarella, and it didn't come in stick form. Also, there was no marinara sauce, there was just a tomato that you had to cut up. Come to think of it, it really wasn't like a mozzarella stick at all. That was followed with a salad that just used a little vinegar and fresh dill as a dressing, and I liked it quite a bit. My main course was potatoes and a pile of mushrooms. And dessert was kind of like a Romanian tres leches. It was edible, to be honest I can't complain!

But that's it for now...updates soon to come.