Tuesday, October 6 -- Countryside and Braila

The day has been so busy and full of new things; it is hard to know where to begin. After checking out of the hotel, I was picked up by Niku and Anca for our travels northeast to Braila. I love people-watching out of the car window and had hoped to take notes on what I saw. But I just held on and prayed… another white-knuckled drive. I feel safe with Niku; it is the other drivers that scare the bejeebers out of me. But, I did see some priceless moments. These are just quick moments one can notice, if you watch and pay attention.

Through the busy thoroughfares of Bucharest, the narrow streets zigzagging through neighborhoods with gated yards and shops, the people are up and busy with their day. One scene: two old women in head scarves and layers of colorful clothes – one on one side of a wrought iron gate, the other standing on the sidewalk – a black and white cat perched on top of the gate – the old women are feeding the cat, one morsel from this one – one from the other.

Another scene: a beautiful, tall young woman in high-healed boots, short skirt and low-cut blouse crosses an intersection. An old, stooped over woman wearing a black hat and black coat, and walking with a cane, crosses in the opposite direction. But when she gets past the young woman, she turns around and stares. She lifts her cane as if to say, “What are you wearing? You foolish girl!!” She continues on her way, turning back once more and shakes her head.

Ordinary people going about their daily business – waiting for the electric trolley, waiting for the train, walking down the sidewalk, talking to neighbors; life is busy in Bucharest this Tuesday morning. The strike from yesterday is over.

We wind our way out of the city and see less and less of apartments and shops and more of industry. “We are heading to one of Romania’s two highways,” explained Anca. Romania only has two four-lane, limited access highways.

The speed picked up once we entered the fast-moving traffic and we immediately drove into fog. I closed my eyes. I’m not sure if I was praying for safe travels or sleeping; maybe a bit of both. We left the 4-lane and traveled on a two-way, two lane tree-lined road - very picturesque. The further out into the country we drove, the further back in time we seemed to travel. There were many, many farmers driving wagons with one horse pulling their load. In the center of a field I could see one wagon with the horse unhitched and the farmer working, sometimes alone, sometimes with a bit of help.

Anca explained what I was seeing. After the revolution (1989), the government returned the land that had been taken back to the owners. These farms were small and the farmer cannot make enough to purchase farm equipment. They farm it by hand, using a horse and wagon and other animals to bring in the harvest. They work very hard and although they would like to use tractors and plows, they just do not have the resources. There are a few farms with tractors. They were harvesting potatoes and other crops. The crops we saw were sunflowers, potatoes, grapes and corn.

I watched as a farmer cut his corn stalks one by one and placed them in a pile. Then, he would drive his horse to where he was working and pile the stalks on the wagon. I wonder what my Paulding cousins would think about harvesting their 3,000 acres, by hand, plant by plant. A very common site on the road was a wagon piled high with cornstalks, moving slowly down the wagon path parallel to the road. The wagon path was badly rutted in areas and the farmers would move to the blacktopped road. This would cause all sorts of havoc for the drivers.

Where I saw flocks of dairy cows or sheep, I also saw a lone shepherd or cattle herder. They stayed in the field with their flocks and herds. Dairy cows would be tethered with long chains to graze along the road. Some farmers would bring a cow with them to the fields, tied to the back of the wagon. There was more than one colt trotting behind a mare while she was pulling a wagon. The worn and tired faces of these farmers was like a mirror to their past.

The villages we passed through were old and charming. Poverty was rampant, but the beautiful flowers that were planted in gardens and window boxes brightened the homes. Bright paint would also be used on the privacy walls and details of the homes. Colorful clothes would be hung in uniform patters on lines to dry. Many old cottages and shacks were abandoned and in disrepair. Anca explained that people leave the country looking for work in the city. They just walk away from their homes. There is no "renewal" or reuse of the older homes, businesses and industry. They stand as rusted and tired monuments of a time gone by.

The traffic on the two-lane road was a force to be reckoned with. I know how cautious we are in the U.S. (well, most of us) when passing. The rule here is “go for it”. It really does not matter how close the oncoming auto is – if a car is going too slow, a driver will zip around, many times missing oncoming cars and trucks by inches. I think all these drivers could be very skilled in one of our NASCAR races. They are daring and experienced. I do not know how many times I gasped. I tried not to look and when I did I would find myself asking (quietly), “No, Niku… don’t go for it, there is not room. Oh, no, He is not going to pass now, is he? The cars are so close. Is he crazy?” I finally stopped looking completely and put my trust where it belonged – in God. (God can guide Niku.)

I have to admit that I did think about my family and remembered the U.S. Department of State policy regarding returning bodies to the U.S. (I was covered.)

As we passed through these villages, I wondered, is there a library here? Do the citizens use their library? Do they even know what it is? I know there are libraries in the smallest of hamlets, and I would have loved to stop and explore, but we were behind schedule and had to get to our destination.

There were huts built with cornstalks perhaps 9 feet by 9 feet square. I wondered what they were for. Perhaps if it rained, the farmer could take shelter? As we drive through one village, an open shop revealed an anvil and blacksmithing tools. Of course, there are so many horses; there must be a blacksmith. I also saw one team of oxen hitched to a wagon and a wagon with a donkey team.

We arrived in Braila and met the Braila County Library director, Dragos Neagu. He gave us a tour of the library. Their other library was destroyed in an earthquake a few decades ago. They are rebuilding, but meantime are housed in a complex that use to be a hotel, theater, gymnastic training facility, restaurant and disco. In the reading room, the patron looks in the card catalog (automated) and brings the request to the librarian. The bulk of the collection is shelved in closed stacks. And, the books are shelved by “size” to save space. They are organized first by size (1A, 1B, 1C, etc.) and then by the accession number or number that identifies their purchase. The county library also digitizes old newspapers. They are in the process of retrospective conversion of the collection so that they an migrate from a DOS-based system to a web-based. It was all very interesting. I also find it worth mentioning again that there is no accessibility for those who use wheelchairs. Stairs everywhere. Very few if any ramps. No elevators. You have to have a complex more than four stories to be considered for an elevator.

From the library, we drove to the center of the city of Braila. Actually it would be the center of the base of a semi-circle beginning at the Danube River. The Ottoman Empire designed the roads like this. The roads were laid out in semi-circle designs, parallel to each other and circling out from the river like ripples in a pond. Dragos shared interesting tips about this area. Braila is supposedly still listed on the Chicago Grain Exchange as historically relevant. At one time, it was one of the largest exporters of grain. This city was important in a number of areas for the development of the country and the world.

We explored the old city where the main branch public library was located. This building, built in the 1800s has been over the years used as private residence, offices, schools and now a library. The ceilings are high with newly repainted gilding and floral designs. I cannot imagine working in such a beautiful building. Wait a minute, I DO work in such a beautiful building! It is just not next to the Danube River.

There is a charming children’s library as well as a section for those students who are studious (complete with non-fiction and reference titles). Also, they have a locked room with old manuscripts. A staff member showed me one of their oldest titles – dated from the mid 17th century. It was apparently a religious book – I am unsure of the language. Also shared was a very rare Italian title with engravings. I believe it was either 18th century or early 19th century. Very fascinating.

We walked out on a balcony and Dragos pointed out the courtyard. There was an architectural dig going on. This is where they want to build the new library, but they have to be cleared by the historical department. Dragos explained that underground there were very large tunnels that the Turks had built. Some of them were big enough for two wagons to pass in opposite directions. He is hoping, if the historical dig finds a tunnel, it could be incorporated as a part of the new library – as an historic exhibit. There are no maps or charts outlining where all the tunnels are located.

Dogs were everywhere. A little guy stood in the open door of the library. There he was, silhouetted as if this was his family home. Puppies were outside. I think mama was stretched out on the archaeological dig.

We walked through the courtyard and to the American Cultural Library. This library houses American fiction and non-fiction. The collection and library was funded in part by a Rotary group in Michigan. Dragos said they are in dire need of new American books. I took a photo of the Rotary pennant and will send it to the club.

We next made our way down to the banks of the Danube. We ate on a retrofitted ship that was now the “Swing” restaurant. Steps to the top level were narrow and steep. Never on our walks did I ever see any handicapped accessibility. Not in the library, not in this restaurant, not even in the embassy.

After a filling lunch (I ordered pizza and took ¾ of it in a “to go” box), Niku drove us back to the county library where about 50 rural librarians were waiting for my afternoon presentation. Today’s subjects would be management, advocacy and marketing. Poor Dragos translated for me. He had his work cut out for him. He was worn out by the end of the 2-hour presentation. We laughed many times when he struggled for the right words. Many in the audience would tell him how something translated. It was so sweet. I know he was exhausted after the speech, but he was sincerely in good spirits and very attentive.

The concept of managing a library professionally was a new concept for many. Most just came to work as a job – checking books in, checking them out. I shared what a powerful job they had and how the public library will change lives. I impressed upon them the importance of having a foundation of passion, vision and imagination. Many examples of successful advocacy events were offered. I encouraged them to introduce themselves to all of their city officials – if they do not already know them. “Hello, I am Anca and I am the local librarian. Do you have a library card?” They all laughed and seemed excited that they could be important enough to talk to a county official. Well, the advocacy seed was planted. They are encouraged to develop their program for youth – the youth would be tomorrow’s advocates. Many other strategies were shared.

I think I overwhelmed and “wowed” them at times, but we still had many laughs. Anca explained that this is exactly what the group needed. They needed to learn how to professionally answer a reference question (conduct a reference interview, cite their source, etc.); they needed to learn about customer service and the new concept of intellectual freedom. They seemed to be inspired by the possibilities. I think I convinced them the importance of thinking of their jobs as important careers and the library as a place that can change lives. At least that seed was planted, too.

After warm goodbyes, Niku drove us to the nearby city of Galati where we checked into the Vega Hotel. We strolled down the nearby neighborhood park that consisted of a long cobbled-stone area with trees, benches and concrete tables with seats and attached marble chess boards. This was a place where one can study the faces of old Romania. Men playing chess -- others gathered around. Other men playing backgammon, and what looked like mahjong. Ladies sitting on benches discussing their day. Grandmothers with young children tugging on their skirts. And of course, the dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. I made the mistake of petting a dog on the porch of the hotel and she started following me. I know I would not be able to resist too many of those brown eyes and wet noses if I lived here.

Once again, at the end of a long day, I was too pooped to go dancing or clubbing… or even walk across the street to eat at a restaurant on the Danube. I enjoyed my cold pizza from the afternoon, ice from the bar and two “Coca Cola Lights” from the corner market kiosk.

Now I am sleepy again, so I will close this blog and go back to bed. It is 2:10 a.m. In the morning we meet with the Galati County Library Director and the president of the Culture Commission of the County Council. I have a two-hour morning presentation on management, advocacy and marketing. Then a lunch at a local restaurant and on to Constanta, a 3-4 hour drive. My hotel for tomorrow night will be on the Black Sea.

Each moment is better then the last and around each corner is a new surprise. I wonder what tomorrow (today) will bring. Time will tell.