Pretty Much Spring

“Dracula sauce!” It disappeared quickly. They didn't think much of the honey mustard, though.

Ikea Coming to Bucharest

When you've been out of the country for a while, there is nothing quite like getting something as familiar as an Ikea catalog in the mail.

Amusing Ourselves in Bucharest

They are very friendly people who tend to go down rows of band names they keep in their heads in the hopes of finding one we will recognize. Since we aren't big collectors of music and don't devote a lot of time to learning about it, our more musical friends tend to roll their eyes a lot.

The Restaurant at the End of the Piata

They're not something that would be allowed in the U.S., being a little haphazard and random and probably not visited by Inspector No. 9. It's a bit like Anakin Skywalker's hometown, minus the desert and the slavery.

How I Got My Very Own Romanian Stalker

It began cooing enthusiastically and shaking its wings and tail feathers. It was downright embarrassing. Cute, but embarrassing.

Romanian Goose Chase: Epilogue

As if that weren't interesting enough, it appears I have a stalker.

Romanian Goose Chase

We weren't chasing actual geese. We were chasing a small flock of Romanian girls.

That so doesn't look right on the screen.

No Escape for Vlad, Part II

There he sat, turning the thing around in his brain, lamenting the lack of a back door or windows of any kind, while assuming some solution would present itself and that he could perhaps sneak by the table without being noticed.

No Escape for Vlad, Part I

Sometimes you stumble into things. Sometimes you stumble into things you wouldn't have stepped into on purpose. Sometimes you get trapped there.

Spring in Romania? Et-cetera and Et-cetera

It will be nice to sit in a cozy place with a beer bigger than my head. Everyone drinks them. It's amazing. I think I am the only one amazed by them.

Going Out, Chimpanzees and Not Much Else

I had originally, and very optimistically, titled this piece “Going Out in Romania,” but the truth is, I have absolutely nothing enlightening to say about going out in Romania. It is exactly like going out in the U.S., except with more of all the things that make you say, “I hate going out in the U.S. I wish I were in Europe.”

Lights Out in Romania

Last night, there was an explosion in the shed in what I am going to optimistically call the courtyard.

The Wonders of Internet Networks

“If you unplug this, they'll come.”

We thought he was joking. He wasn't. As it seemed our only option, we unplugged the cord. That night, there was a knock on our door.