I kissed a gypsy and I liked it

Last Saturday night I crashed a local gypsy's bday party. Don't ask me whose it was, I never figured that out, but I definitely got a flavour of gypsy social life - finally! Besides dancing a storm up to a traditional gypsy music (check out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IT87-MvBKE for an example of what I'm talking about), a highlight was definitely the arrival of an ambulance. Not to take an injured drunk man away from a fight, but a pregnant woman in labour. Ha! Baby-making factories...

When all 3 of us girls walked to the local hall in the pouring rain, the first person we met (luckily) was the good shepherd boy with his friends. You could see in his eyes he couldn't believe we came. The Swedish girls didn't feel comfortable going in, having been given a talking-to by the boss' wife about watching their association with the gypsies, so I strode in arm in arm with shepherd boy playing the ignorant card should any problems arise at a later date. I had had no such talking-to.

We walked in and his friends all looked in disbelief at their mate who had just walked outside a few seconds earlier then returned with this girl who clearly was not local but still friendly and familiar with him. I just laughed. We sat ourselves in the corner of one of the long tables and after feeling uneasy from all the stares for a little while, just thought fuck it and grabbed Chippy, the 13 year old boy with a growth disorder who looks about 5, for a boogie. He was well into it and even the other young'uns joined the cirlce. I got the reluctant shepherd boy up for a dance and it was quite entertaining.

Then came the other gypsy workers... a few beers down of course. All asking for dances while their patient partners waited in the background. Awkward much? You bet ya. So I carefully chose who to throw some (Romanian) shapes with and hopefully didn't piss anyone off. I even had a dance with the cook at one stage! She loved it.

Then they passed a basket around and all put money in, I assume for the bday girl (or boy, who really knows?!) as an MC shouting out how much each person contributed. It looked like some kind of tradition and I kinda sunk into the corner cos I had no wallet on me... cheapskate!! At first I thought they were auctioning off people and I SWEAR I heard my name, so I kinda freaked out and started working out in my head how many people I had to pass on the way to the exit and if it was possible to do without arousing suspicion... anyway, I was freaking out for no good reason in the end.

A few shots of rakiyo (hideous alcohol which actually was weaker than normal at this party, or I was drunker) and an unforgettable trip to the 'toilet' (hole in ground surrounded by chicken and cow poo out the back *vomit*) later, I saw that it was time to leave... but not before bowing to temptation and actually kissing the shepherd boy. Even after I learned he was only 18. What have I become. I told him, in no uncertain terms, that this was to be a secret kept from everyone and here's to hoping he keeps his mouth shut.

I am bored. I need entertainment. And this is as good as any. Anyway, I've only got a few days before I leave to make sure I properly break his little untainted heart.

Horse trek #2 - caput!

After a surprisingly comfortable sleep in a tent next to the shepherds' station (pic to follow), we set out for another trek towards the UNESCO village we stayed at last time with the pastor, his wife and cute little boy. Again, their service was great as was the food, and I gave myself time to contemplate buying cute little hand-knitted socks the next morning. Seems they charge through the nose for any hint of tourist opportunity. And yes, I could've bought some and supported local custom but they were really expensive (for what they were)!

The day's ride wasn't too stressful, not more than 4 hours in the saddle, and again the scenery is just beautiful. I haven't ever really explained what it's like to ride in Romania but imagine neverending fields of grass, lucerne, corn etc framed by bush of all densities sporting an array of shrubs and trees that shield the burning sun and shelter serene bush tracks. Sometimes we pass by fruit trees which are full of ripe fruit at the moment, and we pick some off to eat as we ride. It's probably the best riding country I have ever been in.

The following day, post-pastor, we hit the trails expecting a long ride ahead but it didn't seem at all too bad. The sun was out again in full steam and for some reason I chose to take the track beside the forest not inside so I got plenty of opportunity to top up my tan. Also got an opportunity to bolt up some hills which is always welcome. Goody was a good boy for me.

Finally got home and realised it was indeed Saturday... the gypsies left punctually because they had a local bday party to attend at the hall a few metres up the road. I was itching to check it out, I haven't seen much local gypsy custom in full force here and in all honesty, I do miss the ol' discotheque. So I donned my high school rebel hat and took a left to the hall instead of right to the guesthouse when we left... and it was a choice well made. I think I need a new post to explain it all...