Country Roads
I spent most of Christmas Eve and Christmas at not one, but three jubilant Romanian Christmas parties, each with its own Canadian style Christmas dinner of turkey and stuffing and cranberries and mashed potatoes, and each immediately preceded by practically a whole separate Romanian Christmas dinner of chiftele (meatballs), salată de biof (chilled meat salad), sarmale (cabbage rolls), icre (fish roe spread), vinete (garlic eggplant spread), mashed potatoes (again), ciorbă acră (sour chicken soup), piftie (head cheese).
That makes, yes, six spectacularly rich and heavy meals in the course of less than 24 hours, not even counting the light breakfast and lunch on Christmas morning.
While endangering my chances of being able to squeeze myself into an airplane seat on Monday morning, I also spent some effort translating jokes and stories from Romanian to Latin to English in my head ("Alcohol? Cigarettes?" asks a border guard. "I don't smoke," answers the traveler, "But sure, I'll take a drink if you've got one!"), and listened to hours of cheerful Romanian music (Christmas and otherwise) some of which was uncannily familiar to me.
Matt: You know this song that's playing right now?
Oana's mother: Yes? I know it.
Matt: This is the song that was playing when I was born.
Oana's mother: Really? No! In Romanian? Or there is an English version?
Matt English. "Country Roads Take Me Home." It's by John Denver.
Oana's mother: Oh no. It's a very old Romanian song. This John must have borrowed it.
(Incidentally, no, the head cheese was not really my cup of tea, so to speak. In fact, I don't think anyone under the age of 50 was able to get near it.)
That makes, yes, six spectacularly rich and heavy meals in the course of less than 24 hours, not even counting the light breakfast and lunch on Christmas morning.
While endangering my chances of being able to squeeze myself into an airplane seat on Monday morning, I also spent some effort translating jokes and stories from Romanian to Latin to English in my head ("Alcohol? Cigarettes?" asks a border guard. "I don't smoke," answers the traveler, "But sure, I'll take a drink if you've got one!"), and listened to hours of cheerful Romanian music (Christmas and otherwise) some of which was uncannily familiar to me.
Matt: You know this song that's playing right now?
Oana's mother: Yes? I know it.
Matt: This is the song that was playing when I was born.
Oana's mother: Really? No! In Romanian? Or there is an English version?
Matt English. "Country Roads Take Me Home." It's by John Denver.
Oana's mother: Oh no. It's a very old Romanian song. This John must have borrowed it.
(Incidentally, no, the head cheese was not really my cup of tea, so to speak. In fact, I don't think anyone under the age of 50 was able to get near it.)