Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

Aachen

The trip to Germany was all about family. I hadn’t seen my loved ones in ages, so it was about time! It’s crazy how, even if we don’t see each other for years, it’s like we just picked up where we left off, like we said goodbye yesterday. No judgement, just good vibes.

With my cousins, we explored Aachen and some other places, full of memories, where my parents and Cosmin had also been – a little in Belgium, a little in the Netherlands, and more in Germany. Thankfully, we drove by car and they didn’t force me to ride a bicycle to hang out with them. Cousin the Oldest is super cool and thinks it’s totally normal to take a small thirty-kilometer bike ride just to stretch his legs a bit. Even Cousin the Youngest, who’s not into biking, cycles the thirty kilometers just to keep his brother company.

My uncle’s family members are all fluent in German, as it is their first language. During my time with them, I managed to learn a few words, including two important ones: “sekt” (sparkling wine) and “stau” (traffic jam). There is no need to worry, as we had an entire case of sekt, which proved to be sufficient, albeit just barely.

When I arrived, I discovered in their kitchen an entire box of the above said sparkling wine, known as sekt, which provided ample supply. With the intention of being well-prepared, I decided to buy a few additional bottles. Out of pure curiosity, I included a bottle of Venezuelan rum to compare its flavor with the one from Arizona (the labels were the same, but the name was different). However, my Uncle’s reaction was quite displeased. In his native Romanian, he expressed his strong disapproval by saying, “You were better off sleeping,” or as my father eloquently used to put it, “I’d rather you stuck it up your ass” (both typical Romanian sayings which mean “I would prefer if you refrained from such actions,” but just using a more colorful language).

We experienced stau when we arrived from the airport in Eindhoven (on Friday afternoon, no less), but we could have done without it. To be clear, the airport’s location is commendable; it’s just unfortunate that there was a traffic jam.

Somehow, no matter where I went on this trip, I kept bumping into Farmers’ Markets and street performers.

There was this awesome group from the Netherlands that was a total blast to watch. They were having so much fun and had so much energy that it was contagious! We were cracking up and dancing along with them, too. The video below is made up of several clips: the sound transition is spot on; the image, not so much (but it didn’t have to be). And that’s because the difference between bum-bum-bum-tic-tic-tic and bum-bum-tic-tic is practically non-existent. Give it a listen:

The Lousberg Park and the place to stare at the panorama.

I could use a nicer word than “stare,” but man, after climbing a gazillion steps to the top, my eyes were popping out of my head, just like a snail’s. When I arrived, I realized that there was also a road we could have driven up nice and elegantly – I wanted to give my cousins a piece of my mind, but the boys were pretending to admire the landscape and laughing under their breath. In the end, the views were worth it. An American student (!) took a picture of us, and we also met the dog Gunther, a very black, friendly, and determined puppy who carried a stick bigger than himself up and down those many stairs.

My cousins took me to Moresnet, Belgium, to see the Way of the Cross.

When my uncle saw me, he was like, “Hey Bubiță!” (that’s his special nickname for me, exclusively!). He then felt complelled to add , “Hey Bubiță, you’re looking a bit chubby.” Then he made me sit next to him at the table and insisted on stuffing me with all the delicious treats. That’s how Romanians show love, by overfeeding you. If you ain’t stuffed, you ain’t loved! Can’t say I resisted though, ’cause everything was so darn tasty and I didn’t wanna upset him. Plus, when it comes to food, I have zero willpower. Yep, I’m weak like that. I tried to drown my guilt with some sekt and, man, I drank like there was no tomorrow ’cause I was feeling super guilty.

My sporty cousins really blew me away with their bike skills (and they’re impressive at other stuff too, but let’s stick to bikes for now). I tried to impress them back, but all I had was my big ol’ belly, and they weren’t too thrilled about that. But one morning, they both showed up in the living room, tears streaming down their faces from laughing so hard. “Cousin, Stefan, we’re seriously impressed!” they said between giggles. “We were out on the patio last night, having a sneaky beer and cigarette, when you said you were going to sleep. It took you a grand total of 55 seconds to knock out, and a minute and a half later, you started snoring like a freight train! We thought the dishwasher had gone haywire and was having a raving battle with the cutlery!”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to brag about, but hey, if the CPAP machine was in Bucharest…

So, I made my way back to Eindhoven Airport, feeling kinda down and taking my sweet time, “partir c’est mourir un peu” (“Leaving is like dying a little,” as they say), towards security control. The first thing I see is the boarding pass checking machine.

“Oh, whoa!” I’m like, “What’s this?”

Jokingly, I turn to my cousins and say in Romanian: “You know what? Maybe I look dumb at first glance, but if you drop me off at the train station, I’ll hop on the train. I’m pretty sure I’ll somehow figure out how to get on the plane too!” Then this young woman who was also in line turns to me and says in Romanian: “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll help you!”

We burst out laughing so hard, the poor girl thought we were crazy!