Ro-ma-ni-a.

Last night we had planned on getting up early so that we could have at least an hour to tour parts of Budapest before the van to Romania was going to pick us up. However if you thought getting five Isenberg's somewhere on time was difficult, just plop an Ezri in the mix and the word late is an understatement. We ended up having a scrumpt-didly-umptious marathon breakfast at the hotel. When we glanced at our clocks we were finally done, we realized it was 9:30, and touring was no longer an option but sitting and relaxing sure was. At 10, we loaded our bags into the Romanian van and then headed to the " Széchenyi Lanchid" bridge. Chris gave us a brief history lesson about the bridge. Apparently, the architect who designed it was a rather pompous man and upon its completion, he said that it was the absolute most impeccable and perfect bridge and that there were no mistakes in it. Rumor has it that he went so far as to say that if anyone found a mistake in it, he would commit suicide and jump off it. Some brave soul confessed that the lion statues that guarded the entrances to the bridge did not have tongues. Thus, the Pompous Architect, took his life. Sad story. Amy I. had a difficult time comprehending this and kept wondering if the body was ever found, and why he did it. The concept of the "Myth" is not something to introduce to her, if you don't want a million and one questions back. We took the bus to the tip top of Buda where we could see the entire city, especially all of Pest. We had an Isenberg family photo shoot, and then we headed back in the car to begin our journey to Chris's motherland, Romania, where Dracula was born. And thanks to Amy I., we now know it is home to the most "haunted houses" according to her favorite cable television show, Ghost Hunters. I climbed in the way back of the van and sacrificed an Isenberg pity fight, and even sat in the middle (middle child, middle seat, thats how the game goes). We all know that it doesn't matter where I sit, as long as I am sitting, I can pretty much go into narco narco state anywhere anytime. We arrived in Romania around 4:30. I wasn't sure what to expect. Chris once asked me what I thought Romania looked like and I all could imagine were peasant villages in depressing Eastern Europe. I am not trying to offend anyone, I only speak the truth. I guess it is like the same kind of question when I ask my friends at school or at camp what they think Kansas is like and all they think is farm land and horses imagined in black and white. Ordea, the city in Romania in which we were staying in, is far more interesting that Kanas City. I was blown away. You can physically see the affects of communism on the out skits of the city. Driving into the city were just block after blocks of neutral cement colored apartments. Luckily, Chris lived in the old part of the city, so his home was not transformed into a ticky tacky apartment, his neighborhood had a pleasant and charming personality. Some of the houses on his street were quite elaborate with decorative painting, like red and yellow. Our hotel was literally across the street from his house. Newly renovated, the hotel reminded me of a project from an episode of a TLC show or something Ty Pennington would have done because you could clearly understand the concept behind the hotel, but you could also tell that time and money were limited. It had only been a month since its grand opening and I am not sure how much longer it will last. Tonight's agenda was to attend a traditional orthodox Friday night shabbat with dinner and dancing (well dancing wasn't specifically included, but knowing Chris, it could always go there) Amy I. and I shared a room and Momma I. and Papa I. shared a room and little Adam I. got the honor of staying at the Ezri's house (but truthfully no one wanted him in their rooms....he smells bad, its not our fault) We dropped our bags off and then headed to finally meet and greet the Ezri family. We were kindly greeted by the Ezri family dog, a big german shepard who apparently knows Romanian, Hungarian, Hebrew and English (I don't think Chris ever told me his name) Before we even shook hands with our host and hostess to be, I noticed the large amount of food, prepared and beautifully decorating the table. Large amount is an understatement. We literally meated and greeted with our Romanian family (prosciutto, salami, sausage, you name it they probably had it). Gusti and Gabriella, mother and father of Sir Christian Ezri (Jewish name eh?) both stood not too tall but really too wide. Gusti, precious smile, shiny bald head, stern but cuddly. Gabriella, large but not in charge, unique but comforting. Gusti and Chris took us on a tour of their own personal art museum, aka their house. Gusti has an undying passion for art and from what I could understand, he collects art but is also an antique dealer. While my house is covered with color from head to toe, this house was covered in art and golden frames, and sculptures and clocks from top to bottom. Obviously Chris stored all of the Jewish paintings and antique hanukia and kiddish cups in his room. We gathered around the table as Gabriella continued to cook us more food. Finally at 5:55, we all took a reality check and realized that we needed to leave in 20 minutes for services. Papa I. hadn't even showered yet. Original game plan of 6:15 departure to JCC Ordea was not going to happen. Finally at 6:30 we packed in the cars and headed to Chris's most prized possession, his "campus" (which houses the synagogue and newly renovated JCC) Chris is the director of the JCC. I still can't believe sometimes that he is only 23. From what Chris had described to me about his struggles with growing up the Jewish community in Ordea, I thought his community was incredible. It is not easy to run a temple at the age of 23. We met in the synagogue first. The boys took their path to the right and us girls took our path to the left. The synagogue that they usually occupy was under construction, so instead we were next door in the smaller of the two. Mama I. put it best but the rabbi was doing so much praying and did not face the audience once, that he wouldn't have a clue if anyone was even there. You could tell Mama I. was annoyed by the fact that they still split men and women apart. I thought we were going to an Orthodox temple like the ones back home but it was no where near as strict. Weirdly enough people were quite the chatty (like chatty and kathy) chatters tonight and most of the time people were talking at normal voice level with their neighbor. After services, we did what we Isenbergs do second best...EAT. Surprising Adam I. didn't eat anything and the rest of us nibbled away at the chicken and potatoes. We sang songs, received a welcome speech and took a tour of the JCC. Chris and his very dear and close friend, Edith, took us on a mini tour of the neighborhood. Edith is only 21, is about to graduate college with three degrees, is involved in the Jewish Community just as much as Chris is, and she used to date Chris. She is just incredible. We came back home for late night chocolate cream puffs, with walnut strudel and Mama I. learned how to make meat and cabbage role ups. What a fabulous day in a fabulous city. This is one of those places, in which words can't capture what you need to describe it. Go there.

postedness on march 14th too thousand and aight.