In Spanish it means to put, In Hungarian it means Kiss, and In English you get your mouth washed out with soap if you don't end it with a willow.

We had planned to wake up at 8 am and be over at the Ezri's at 9 am in order to be able to fit in all of the site seeing we needed to do, however we were not informed that the Romanian's moved their clocks up an hour (they didn't physically move the clocks on us, they are just in a different time zone than Florence and Hungary). So when we ended up waking up at 8:45 and finally making it over the Ezri's house at 9:30, we really ended up waking up at 9:45 and making it over the Ezri's house at 10:30 and then we ended up eating breakfast/lunch=brunch at 11:00. I thought last night was just a special welcome feast, but no no no, the large dining room table somehow managed to double in the amount of food and poor Gabriella Ezri must of woken up at the crack of dawn to prepare the mounds of food. Papa Gusti made us all real chicken egg eggs. From what we could understand, they get their eggs from a real farmer who has his own chickens, none of that carton business, this was serious chicken shiz. I could taste the difference in the flavor and the coloring was much different. After salami and cheese and bread and strudel and orange juice and eggs and a chocolate kinder bar, I decided that I had to finally put my foot down to Gusti's persistent force feed. He would not take no for an answer and then when I had Chris tell him that I was going to explode if I ate more, and then he finally let me off the hook. After lunch-bruch-feast-o-fun, we all piled in their family cars and headed to bear mountain. The kids were in Chris's car, Mama I. drove with Norbert and the GF and Papa I. took shot gun in the car with Edith, Gusti and Gabriella. We Isenberg children did what we Isenberg children do best and instantly but gently laid our heads on our hands and rested out eyes. I woke up numerous times for fear that we were going to die. In Romania, they don't have highways or two lane roads, so in order to go anywhere you have to play the risk taking game of speed-racer, cutters style and Chris indeed thought he was Mario Andretti. All of the sudden Chris would jet out into the lane going in the opposite direction, and cut the person in front of him. The scary part was not the actual going into the other lane, the scary part of was going into the other lane and then seeing a car heading directly at you and then quickly cutting in between two cars in order to avoid getting hit from the front. Gusti was the master at this game. We drove through the most scenic and beautiful towns. We would be driving for 20 minutes with not a single house or stop in sight, large mountains in the background and untouched crayon green fields in the foreground and then all of the sudden a little peasant village would pop up or two men herding sheep or little bubshucka women with their scarves and skirts sweeping the gravel. Tractors and men in horse drawn wagons pulling hay would occasionally appear on the right or left. It was incredible. An hour and a half later we made it to the bear caves. If Romania got its act together it could be one of the most beautiful and interesting tourist attractions. I have only been the city of Ordea, but wowza I have just been so impressed. While the remains of Communism still lingers here and there, and a little bit everywhere, and people seem to be a just a wee bit debby downers, the history and architecture, and the villages are just incredible and even the underdeveloped and less looked upon are fascinating. However the one tourist attraction they do have are these bear caves. Peasant women and children stand at the base of cave, demanding for you to buy their gidgets and gadgets like crystal bears, and apple pastries. Story has is that thousands of years ago, and by thousand I mean thousands and thousands of years ago, bears used to inhabit these caves until one day a massive hurricane or earthquake or some type of storm came along and the land caved in and closed off the entrance into the cave and all of the bears were suck inside with no exist. If I am not mistaken and if I heard correctly, it was only within the past hundred years that a man discovered this cave and when he entered, he found hundreds and hundreds of bears bones. We were only shown one complete set of bones but I think Mister-Tour-Guide-Who-Did-Not-Speak-English (but Chris translated) told us that they now have found 6 complete bodies. Stalactites covered the cave wall and stalagmites grew from the ground. The gave was ginormous and only a portion of it is open to the public. Look above for fun and games.
Now for the best part of the entire day and the entire weekend and will probably be a story I will remember for my entire life. The Ezri family would not allow us to put a dime down this weekend, we weren't even allowed to buy waters at the gas station. Gusti bought our entire family tickets into the cave. Mama I. and I were so grateful that he bought us our tickets that when he went to hand them to us, we tried to be culturally correct and say thank you in Hungarian "cursenum" or as Chris taught us to pronounce it "curse-en-em". He then pointed to his cheek as imply that he wanted a kiss on the cheek. This is not absurd thing to do in Europe and the whole two kiss thing is rather common. However as he was pointing to his cheek, he said pussy pussy. Mama I. and I looked at each other I proceed to give him the right and left kissy kissy while saying pussy pussy because I was not sure what else to do. Mama I. (more naive) however was not as willing and said "I don't think we can say that" (in just the sweetest voice ever with bright red cheeks). We ended this little episode rather awkwardly and Mama I. gave him the kiss, kiss and we then headed into the exhibit. Mama I. and I kinda forgot about it because we were so engaged with the bear cave but after the exhibit Gusti must of talked to Chris and sensed something was awkward with our interaction. Little did we know and little did he know, but in Hungarian pussy means kiss and in English pussy does not mean kiss. The entire way day, we were just laughing our heads off and you could just tell Gusti was so embarrassed and couldn't believe that he had asked Mama I. and I for pussy. Chris informed us that there are other words in Hungarian and Romanian that should not be used around those who speak English. For instance the word, F*uck, in Hungarian means Tree (sorry to be so vulgar) So if someone in Hungarian happened to say that they wanted to kiss a tree, to those who speak english, it was would sound VERY dirty. We just giggled and giggled the whole way home. After our kissing incident and bear cave hunt we headed back down the mountain to a peasant museum, where three old men have opened up their homes for people to come and look at their family history through their clothing, wagons, pottery, and even bedrooms. Papa I. asked the Chris to ask the man if he wanted any money because we couldn't believe such a place would be free and the man said he had no need for money but if my dad had a wife he would take her. Mama I. offered to give Amy I and I away. By the time we got into back into the car it was already almost 5. On the way there, we saw several different sheep herders and their sheep's and Chris promised that we could stop and try to herd them and or for me take pictures of them. Down the road, we caught our first group. We pulled to the side of the road and I spastically grabbed my camera and ran out of the car. Bah Bah Black (white) sheep have you any wool yes sir yes sir three bags full and dog that will bite you in the butt hole. Again sorry for being so vulgar but Sheep Dog the Sheep Herding dog was not a friendly little pup, trained to be tough and eat people alive. He almost bit Edith's butt off and then decided my whole body was a greater source of people protein and he darted straight towards me. I thought my life was over and my face was gone but lucky Sheep Herder the Sheep Herding Man thrashed his wooden weapon in the air and the dog backed off a little. I decided that was enough for this one sheep herding photo shoot and I didn't just walk back to the car, I boulted. I probably left human tire tracks on the ground. We continued on our way for another 2 minutes until we saw another herd of sheep, but this time there were two Sheep Herders, two Sheep Herding men. It was a photo op, you wouldn't be able to do or experience this in any other place in the world. I could of stopped 60 more times on the way home, but I didn't want the caravan of cars to kill me, so I kept my mouth closed every time we saw a group of sheep with there sheep herders. We didn't get back into Ordea until 7:30. However, Chris had to go to dance practice. While I have yet to see Chris shake his bom-bom Israeli style, I sure hope he is on either ends of the spectrum. Either he is something really similar to "Extra Pizzaz" bald man we saw dancing at the JCC in Budapest or straight as the bed I sleep on. Edith also had to go, which meant we were down two translators for dinner. We ate at this very interesting restaurant that was supposedly very typical Romanian food. We sat at the tip top of the tiki hut restaurant where the statement, heat rises, was formed. Cuddled against our backs were real sheep and cow hide lined chairs attached to big heavy wooden seats. Mama I. and I learned that Norbert's girlfriend doesn't speak Hungarian, and that the Ezri's mostly talks in Hungarian but that she understand a little English. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to with the family all of the time when they don't speak your language. I assume they must switch on their Romanian mindset when she is around but I am just not sure because I couldn't tell you the difference between the two. I can't stand it when we can not instantly understand what his parents are saying because all I want to do is to directly talk to them. At first I thought we going to order individually, however that would have been a great mess because Amy I. and I could hardly decipher what was what, but luckily Gusti sat on his kings thrown at the end of the table and ordered away and by away I mean he us his life away and we had enough food at the table to feed an army. While the meal was quiet delicious, I must admit I still loved the home cooked meal from last night the best. Actually stuffed to the brim, we were finally able to convince Gusti that we did not need any more food and that all we needed was our nice little beds but he made us promise that if we were not getting dessert at the restaurant, then we had to come back to their house and eat dessert there. YIKES AND YUCKS, at this point in the evening I couldn't even imagine sticking another piece of food in my mouth, but sometimes you have to let your imagine stretch a bit, and if you allow it, it might allow your stomach to do the same thing. Before I knew it, I was eating chocolate tiramisu. I felt like I had been hypnotized to eat the food or something. Indeed they were delicious but I still can't believe all of that food fit inside of me. Bloated and exhausted from a wonderful day, I made the executive decision to head back home at 1:00 am, and the entire Isenberg crew hit the sack. Before getting into bed Amy I. and I wanted to watch some tele but unfortunately Romanian television turns into mid-night porn madness and with more than a few giggles, we had a difficult time finding something to watch, so I eventually gave up and left Amy I. in charge.