Romania -“Enjoy the Journey”

Romania - “Enjoy the Journey”
A Travel Memoir
by Darren K. Parker

I wake on day four not surprised any longer by the rooster, geese, and pigs outside my window that are now my morning alarm clock. I had always hated starting the morning with the screeching sound of that beep, beep, beep! Well, let me tell ya things here in Harsova, Romania are quite different.

Now I guess the next question is “WHY ROMANIA?” Really the only way to explain that is to say, well “It is a God Thing”. For several months I had been searching, searching for answers to many of life’s questions, the biggest being that question that almost all of us ask ourselves, “Why am I here?” Although very happy with my personal success and my current role and place in life, I knew there had to be more. It was then in mid-March on a business flight from the west coast that God simply tapped me on the shoulder and made it clear to me that I was to travel and see the work he and his servants are doing outside of the United States. There was no vision, or a voice, and no Angel appeared, but rest assured the clear, concise thought was truly divine.

I really had no idea where to start, so I decided to contact one of my dear Christian friend, Stephen Kiser, who I knew could help point me in the right direction. By March 25, I was having discussions with a R.U.T.H (Reaching U Through Him) Ministries about their current projects in Romania. Then on April 26,l I found myself on a flight to Bucharest to see for myself the great work that God was doing in small town of 11,000 in eastern Romania.

I jumped a flight from Dallas to St. Paul then on to Amsterdam. After 23 hours of continued travel I arrived in Bucharest. Once I stepped off the 737 onto the runway at the airport it was clear that I was in a very distant land and it was going to be quite the adventure! My heart was filled with excitement as I passed through customs and gathered my luggage, which consisted of one bag for me, a carry on filed with camera equipment, book, and a Tetris game, as well as, two bags for the children in Harsova, one with toys and the other with cloths. I could hardly contain my excitement!

Marshall, the founder of R.U.T.H, met me at the airport. And after an American style dinner (McDonalds) and good nights sleep I started the 3-hour drive to Harsova. The first thing I noticed was the lack of lines on the roads and the crazy driving habits of Romanians. I was a pretty much a nervous wreak as we weaved in and out of traffic, yet Marshall seemed unnerved as he pointed out the American embassy and other attractions along our journey. After an hour our so I thought I was finally getting comfortable with the driving and the fact that we were now in the countryside, all was well. It was then the car in front of us decides to pass just as another approaching driver made the same decision. I looked up and somehow there were five cars, two going east and three heading west, all stretched across a two-lane road at 70 MPH. I thought to myself, well I have come all this way and it is all going to end right here in the countryside of Romania in a five-car pill up, just hours after I’ve arrive. I am not sure what exactly happen next, but when I reopened my eyes all was well and Marshall was continuing to answer my curios questions without missing a beat. I suppose after spending a little time here, these events are the norm.

The drive to Harsova was a quite beautiful. Rolling hills and flat farmland as for as you could see. Yellow flowers dotted the landscape and about every 20-30 miles there was another small little village one after another. As we entered the villages you could clearly see a very different life style than that of most Western Europe or the United States. I noticed most of the smaller villages had five to ten water wells dotted along the highway for the villagers. Since most people did not have running water in their homes each day one family member would venture down to the well to gather water for the day. Driving though the villages I saw people walking along the streets and older people sitting in front of their homes visiting with neighbors and friends. It was really like going back in time and it reminded me of the stories my grandparents tell of the 1940-50s U.S. When life was tough, but people were genuine.

As we continued to drive we approached the Danube River as it completed its long journey through Europe and became part of the Black Sea there on the dark sandy beaches of Romania. We drove through the small fishing villages on the banks of the river and saw many fishermen standing by the edge of the road trying to sell their days catch. It was not until after seeing many men standing with there arms held out wide that Marshall explained to me that gesture meant they have “really big fish” to sell. Oh and if the shake their right hand as they made this gesture it means the fish is still alive! Interesting indeed.

We arrived in the town of Harsavo still a little jet lagged and dusty from the drive through the farmland. Within three seconds of stepping out of the car there was the cutest little dog greeting Marshall. It was clear she knew him well. Apparently not only does this missionary feed the children and people of this town, he has a place in his heart for the local street dogs as well. It is a good thing, since there are thousands of stray street dogs in Romania.

After we feed the dog, I saw for the first time the building I would be living in for the next 10 days. It was clearly an old soviet block apartment, completely made of concrete, and the oddest color of tan. Marshall and I walked up two flights of stairs and cannot start to explain the smells in the hallways. It was very distinct, and though not necessarily bad, it was clearly different, kind of cooking spices mixed with mildew. I also noticed that there was no lights lighting the stairways, so I wondered how people got around at night, later I learned that you fall often, or at least I did!

We got to the mission apartment were we were greeted by the occupants Sashia, Ester, and Nick, who work for RUTH there in Harsova. Sashia works as the Romanian Director for the ministry, Ester his wife is also part of the mission team, and Nick is the music director at the church. Sashia and Ester’s six-month-old little girl also lives with them, so you can imagine it was a little tight with Marshall and I there, but that really made the trip special. After a few days I was just part of the family and it warmed my heart to have been accepted so readily by each of them.

It was Friday afternoon when I arrived and we were invited to church for Bible Study. I walked into this church, which was a converted house, and saw something that reminded me of what the early churches in New Testament must have been like. The church was about 500 square ft and there were about ten benches in rows of five. There was a small pull pit area with a red curtain behind it. The words “PACE VOUA” which translates to “Peace Be With You” was hanging in the fount of the sanctuary. The bible study started with music from the young adults and youth. I could not understand a single word, but did recognize most of the songs as Nick, the music director, played beautifully on the keyboard. I have attended many church services in my life, but none as wonderful and moving as this one. There was a true presence of God in that small Romanian, church. You could see it in the eyes of everyone, you could hear it in their voices as they prayed, and see the passion in the pastor’s eyes as he spoke. This was the first time during my journey that I found myself chocking back tears.

During the week I got very attached to the people in this small Romanian town. Two of the pastor’s younger sons Oti (8 years old) and Little Emi (11 years old) befriend me on my first day. Ok it could have had something to do with the fact that my pockets were always filled with candy and I a digital camera that they could see themselves on, or that I had an electronic Tetris game I used to pass the time on the long flight over the Atlantic, but really did not care. These little guys thrilled my heart every day as they both look out after me. Oti also attempted to teach me to count in Romanian, but the only word I learn was Monkey, because he always pointed at me and said “you mamutsia” then laughed. I also got several lessons in soccer from these two little guys, but they ran circles around me.

On my second night, I had the opportunity to have dinner at Pastor Emi’s house. The pastor’s wife cooked a wonderful chicken dinner like nothing I had ever tasted. It was in a red sauce and served with fresh bread, tomatoes, and cucumbers. Come to think of it, every meal I had in Romania was served with tomatoes and cucumbers. Dinner was completed with Turkish coffee, which is served in a thimble size glass and still has grinds in the bottom. Turns out it is very good, and strong enough to keep an American awake all night.

As the days passed in Romania I forgot more and more about my job and life back in the states, by day four I was on Romanian time and loving it. Each day was filled with activities around the work the missionaries are doing in Romania. One day I traveled with Pastor Emi to one of the mission points outside of Harsova. There I that the pleasure of meeting a local farmer and his family. His home was quite modest, but you could clearly see the love in his family. We had a small bible study and some prayer, then we discussed and prayed for his son who was deaf due to inter ear damage from high fever shortly after birth. It was sad to know that for a few thousand dollars that child could hear again, but to this family a thousand dollars was as unthinkable as a million. After the bible study, I was shown the large pigs, chickens, ducks, and the rest of this proud framers farm. We left with three bottles of fresh milk, which we purchased for about four dollars, and when I say fresh, let me tell you, I think it came from the cow that very day!

As I made my way around the city I continued to see small children playing in the streets. Their cloths and hair dirty and most looked malnourished and hungry. I then had the opportunity to see first hand the street children that now fill my thoughts and prayers daily. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of each week the mission team along with members of the local church feed the street children. It would be more often if the mission team had more funding to buy needed food. Each day 30-60 children ages 4-14 gather at makeshift table where they learn to wash their hands, eat with a fork and sit at a table for dinner. While the food is prepared they sing songs and are told stories from the bible. As I watched this unfold I begin to ask questions about each child. Several of the children lived in and around the cliffs that run along the Danube River while others sleep in local parks until they are forced to move on. I spoke to each child there that day and it was clear that some had lost almost all communication skills. I had to choke back tears as they gathered around me as I passed out treats. At one point I saw nothing but little, dirty hands reach out to me in every direction. I continued to smile at all the kids their curiosity of me increased, but deep inside of me my heart was breaking.

I also had the opportunity to take several pictures. I was overwhelmed with emotions as all the kids gathered around me to see their picture on the LCD screen as I played back the photos for them to see. They were pilled in around me so tightly they blocked out almost all light that tried to peer in. There is something powerful about children. As each one of them huddled in closer you could feel the energy and excite they created.

Once the candy was gone and pictures had all been seen twice or more I had to leave. As I walked back to the car all the children followed me. I could barely open the car door for all the kids around. As I drove away, fighting back tears, many of the kids waved while other chased after the car for at least two blocks.

I spent a total of 10 days in Harsova, Romania, and I guess it was my last day that amazed and thrilled me the most. May 1 st is a holiday in the Romania. It fell on a Saturday and everyone gathered for a picnic in a large, open field on the banks of the Danube River just outside of town. We parked and I begin to walk around and visit with everyone. There were soccer games being played, children playing chess, volleyball, Patricia, the pastor daughter, played the guitar as some of the youth sang along, and there was dinner on the ground, just like any spring southern Sunday in the United States.

It was amazing that in 10 short days I had become so attached to all these people. Each one of them accepted me as their friend and they all had touched my life. I did not realize it was going to be like this, how would I ever be able to leave? Time passed quickly and before I realized it 3:00 had came and gone. I had to head back to the Apartment to pack up and then drive to Bucharest for my flight back to the U.S. I had hopped to leave with little show, but once the word was out that I was leaving everything stopped, including the soccer match. Everyone came by one by to say goodbye. There were more pictures, some tears (mostly mine), some laughs, and many prayed for my safe travels. I climbed into the passenger seat and Marshall began to drive away. As I looked up and out the window the road was lined with people waving goodbye to me. Marshall and Sasha were talking about something, but I was lost in thoughts as we drove away. My heart was breaking!

We arrived back at the Apartment. I sent out one final email to my friends back in the states and I started packing up. Just as I had gotten most of my things together, Oti, the 8 year old pastors son, walked into the apartment. He had left the picnic to see me one more time before I left and to play one final game of Go Fish. It was the perfect end to my time in Harsova.

Marshall, Sasha and I headed out to Bucharest that night and ended up staying at a local Christian Hostel there so we could get a few hours sleep before I had to catch my 6:00am flight. That night I slept very little as my thoughts were filled with the people of Harsova and their lives, they’re happiness, and their expectance of me.

The next morning we awoke at 4:00am and Marshall and Sasha dropped me at the airport. We said our goodbyes and as I was about to walk into the airport Marshall looked up and said something that will stay with me forever, “ Hey DP, Enjoy the journey.”

It did not really hit me until I was well over the Atlantic Ocean. I was looking though my journal and there on page nine, Ally had pasted a picture of the pastor and his entire family. My heart was overwhelmed with emotions, and I recalled Marshall saying, “Enjoy the Journey!” Was it just that simple? I had gone to Romania in search of answerers to difficult questions about my life and my purpose. I went to help the people in Harsova, but to be honest I received the biggest gift of all. I was given the conditional love and friendship of some the finest people I have ever had the opportunity to meet. I learned to be thankful for the blessings that God has bestowed to my family and I. Above all I was granted God’s insight and vision for my life. I am not truly clear what role I will play in Romania or future mission work, but I assure you whatever Gods plan is for me I will “Enjoy the Journey!”