Romania: One Year Later

This is Romania to Me

It has been a year since I had the blessed opportunity to live and work in Romania for several months. A lot has transpired since then. Romania continues to be both a source of comfort and hope as well as a source of gentle prodding. I'm not going to focus on those things, however. Rather, I want to relate to you some of my thoughts from experiences as they happened. I do this not to boast, but to process. I feel like that's the only reason I blog anymore. "I go to the [blog] when my heart is lonely..." Or something...

SIDE NOTE: There are lots of entries. Don't feel obligated to read them all. I recommend: 2 January, 30-31 January, 20 February, 15 March, 22 March.

2 January 2012 – Blackfoot, Idaho, United States 

I am going to Romania because…I’m not sure. I want to make a difference in the world. More than that, I feel that this is how I can fulfill what I feel Heavenly Father expects me to do with my life. I think that the kids I will work with are there for me, not necessarily me for them. Heavenly Father has given me this opportunity, in part, so that I can learn how to open myself up to others again. Since my mission, I’ve been very closed with other people. I keep a lot inside, including my emotions, which makes it difficult for me to connect with others and vice versa.

18 January 2012 – Wednesday – Iași, Romania

Feelings about Romania so far: 1) I am super intimidated about speaking to people. This frustrates me because I don’t want to rely on Kevin. 2) It’s sort of a funny place – no order to the streets, buildings, or architecture. 3) 10 people is a lot to travel with. It sort of stresses me out.

23 January 2012 – Monday – Iași, Romania

First day at the hospital! What an adventure it was. I attempted to change into my scrubs in the hospital bathroom, but it was pretty disgusting. Ugg. The smell was overpowering and there was stuff on the floor that I don’t even want to know what it was.

25 January 2012 – Wednesday – Iași, Romania

Today was our first day at the orphanage, and let me tell you, it was a whole lot better than I had anticipated it being. The orphanage has great facilities, very modern treatment programs, and pretty good overall conditions. It was pleasantly surprising to me. I had thought that the orphanage would be a lot worse than the hospital, but it is definitely the other way around. The kids there really do just light up when they recognize the blue scrubs.

The hospital was tough for me today. It really shouldn’t have been, but I’ve been sort of in a funk lately with my Romanian, my drive, and basically a lot of other things. I held little babies for most of the time at the hospital. I wish that understood what causes people to abandon their children. I wish that I could understand why my little boy today was un copi fara mama. I wish I could comprehend what it means to be a parent, to create and care for something that is part of you. I didn’t want to leave my little boy today. I don’t even know if he had a name. What do I have to offer my little boy? I won’t be here for him after April. I don’t know where he will be. His eyes and beautiful hair, his chubby cheeks and his smile that is foarte frumos. I see him and wonder what his life will be like, what his chances will be, and where he will end up.

This is a really weird entry. It’s been kind of one of those days where you just sort of feel lost personally, physically, everything. What can I offer my kids? I’m only here for 90 days. I play with them the same way others do, I tell them the same things, I wear the same things. These are my thoughts currently.   

30 January 2012 – Monday – Iași, Romania
I spent all of my time at the hospital with a beautiful little girl. She is a sweet little girl and a great listener. I often have existential conversations with her. Today, I talked with a mom in the room and it was a semi-intelligent conversation (minor victory). My Romanian is coming along little by little. Anyway, today I thought about (and telepathically communicated with my little girl) the words in “I Am a Child of God.” My little girl doesn’t have parents kind and dear right now. I don’t know where they are. She is a child of God. Sometimes, I think He and I are the only ones who really know that she exists. I feel like I have too many questions sometimes. I’m sure Heavenly Father just sort of shakes His head at the questions I ask. One of my concerns before coming to Romania was that it would leave me with more questions than answers and further exacerbate the problematic/skeptical relationship I have with God already.

Little girl of mine, I hope that one day you have parents who are kind and dear. I hope that you don’t have to spend the rest of your life in a hospital or orphanage bed. I hope that you have more than just God who takes notice of you. 

31 January 2012 – Tuesday – Iasi, Romania

I couldn’t hold my little girl today at the hospital. The mom I talked to yesterday said that she cried too much after I left and the nurse told me to just change her and go. I was pretty bummed by that, no lie. The song of the day was the last verse of “Away in a Manger,” that says, “And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.” I wish that I could stay with my little girl till morning is nigh. I wish the moms in her room would take compassion on her, and comfort her when she cries. I wish from the depths of my heart that someone would be by her cradle each night to calm her fears and watch over her.

Sometimes, I feel like I get into a funk with things. I don’t feel like it’s anxiety. That seems to be pretty in check at the moment. There are some things I do not understand about life and the plan thereof. Perhaps that is my lot in life, to not understand things.

1 February 2012 – Wednesday – Iasi, Romania 
Sometimes, I think that I think too much. That is essentially the conclusion I have come to as of late. I think that soon I will need to take some time to decompress and come to terms with who I am becoming here. Also, I think I will need to address some unspoken questions that have yet to be answered.  

20 February 2012 – Monday – Romania

The Saint's Journey

At the monastery in Sucevița, there is a painting of people ascending a series of steps (like a ladder) with hosts of angels guiding them up, and Christ waiting to welcome them at the top. Before I left, I asked a nun, in Romanian, what that meant. She explained to me (in Romanian, and I understood!) that it is a representation of our journey through life. Each step brings us closer to God. There are some who had/were being pulled off the steps by demons and devilish creatures. Some people fall off the path towards God. For those that remain, the nun explained, Christ is there waiting to welcome them into heaven. It was very much like the iron rod concept in Mormonism.

The nun and I continued to talk in Romanian and she asked what faith I was, what I was doing here, and if I was visiting lots of the monasteries in the region. I was grateful to be able to explain how I felt the Spirt of God as I walked the grounds of the beautiful monastery, and how even though I was not Orthodox, that I believe in Jesus Christ. This lady was a kind soul, a devout believer. Her dedication, and more importantly, her love to and of God was evident. She wanted each of us to feel that love.

I am grateful to know that God judges us on what we learn here in this life. My nun friend clings to the truth that she has with all of her heart. She does a better job than I do at holding to principles of truth. Heavenly Father will bless her for that.

15 March 2012 – Thursday – Iasi, Romania
At the hospital, Kevin and I went to the seventh floor to the place I was on Tuesday. The little boy was content for the first hour or so, but then he started crying hysterically. I didn’t want to pick him up because that often facilitates more crying when you put the kid back down. Eventually though, out of frustration and/or pity, I picked him up. The poor little guy clung to my neck and chest like a small infant, not a year-and-a-half old, wrapping himself around me. He just sobbed and sobbed. I just held him, talking to him, telling him things would be OK, and that I was there for him. It was a spiritual experience because for a moment, I saw myself with my own son sometime in the future. I saw myself in the window holding my own child instead of someone else’s, rocking him to sleep, wiping his tears away, and putting his fears to rest. It was the first time in my life I felt like I could be a father, and a good one, not a deadbeat sperm donor. My little friend has had a rough life. No one has been there for him consistently, and he needs that. He has so much on his psychological plate, and he’s only been alive for a little while, maybe a year or just a little more. How could I have been so impatient with him? Of all people, I should understand that people are complex individuals, often with problems not visible to the human eye. I should have been more kind and loving to him initially. I’m sorry. I apologized so many times to my little guy.

25 March 2012 – Sunday – Iasi, Romania
Despite massive congestion in the nose, my talk in church went off fairly well. I’d say that it went off without a hitch, but it didn’t. I accidentally started reading a scripture a few chapters away from where I meant. It took me a bit to realize it, but when I did, it was sort of an OOPS moment. I even said, “My bad,” in the middle of my talk. It made my day when members came up and said, “Thank you for your talk in Romanian! You did so well!” I am still pretty happy about it. My good friend Gabi even Bravo-ed my talk. He is great. I like to talk with him because he is patient with my speaking. I just really felt on cloud nine today after my talk. If you make the effort to do things that are difficult, Heavenly Father opens a way for you to accomplish them. Sounds sort of like a scripture, right? Probably because it is true.

2 April 2012 – Monday – Iasi, Romania
I don’t know how I’m going to leave this place in just over a week. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to leave  any of my kids. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to say goodbye to my little boy at the hospital. I don’t know what I’m going to do. The work I have been doing here has felt redemptive, especially during those times when I struggled with life. For once in my life, I was and am doing something good. These children are special spirits that I have come to love more than anything. They have allowed me to heal my soul and to feel close to God. Sometimes, when I am at the hospital, I feel more of God’s love than I have personally felt in a long time. When I am at the hospital, Heavenly Father gives me tender mercies from time to time, showing me visions of my future children being held in my arms, rocking them to sleep, and quieting their fears

This experience has made me want to be a father, a good father. I want to be there for my kids, to let them know that I love them more than anything. I want my kids to know that I will always be there for them, that nothing they do would make me love them any less. I want my kids to be able to run to me when they are sad, burdened, disappointed, or sorry. I want my kids to know that I will wipe away their tears. Romania has taught me how to be a parent like Heavenly Father. These are all things that Heavenly Father does for me, and He wants me to realize that.

And so, these are my thoughts as I prepare to leave. I don’t want to think about it any more. Maybe I’ll just live in denial about it for a while. That is all I have to say about that.

11 April 2012 – Wednesday – Iasi, Romania – THE LAST ORPHANAGE DAY

 Children With Minds 

As I went to say goodbye, I took time to tell all of the kids goodbye. I just hugged my little prince for a minute and told him over and over that I loved him. Two of the other boys, of course, both wanted hugs after that. Of course I obliged. one of the workers told me over and over that I needed to be careful with my future neice. As we were leaving, another of the ladies said, “Fii copii cu minte.” That means, “Be well-behaved children.” It can also be interpreted as:  

“Be children with minds.” 

I really like that last interpretation.

Romania means a lot to me still. It has shaped the decisions I have made about my career and my personal life. It has impacted my spirituality, my psychology, and my thought process. I want to be the kind of person my kids would be proud of. I want to be a child with a mind. I don't know that I have lived up to that ideal in the last year, but there is always room for growth and change -- There is always another hill ahead. May we each strive to be children with minds.

 

     

Les Mis: An Evolving Post

Ladies and gentlemen, I have determined to read, in its entirety, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. None of this abridged version nonsense. It's go big or go home time. This post will grow as I progress through the book. Mostly, it will be a place where I can record all of the outstanding gems I find in Mr. Hugo's writing. I'm already moderately in love with this book. Published by Signet Classics 1987.

From the Preface: "So long as there shall exist, by reason or law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the midst of civilization, artificially creates a hell on earth, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; so long as the three problems of the century -- the degradation of man by the exploitation of his labor, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the atrophy of childhood by physical and spiritual night -- are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and from a still broader point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, there should be a need for books such as this."

Pg. 52: "They confuse heaven's radiant stars with a duck's footprint left in the mud."

Page 220: "To write the poem of the human conscience, if only of one man, even the most insignificant man, would be to swallow up all epics in a superior and definitive epic. The conscience is the chaos of chimeras, lusts, and temptations, the furnace of dreams, the cave of ideas that shame us; it is the pandemonium of sophisms, the battlefield of the passions. At certain moments, penetrate the ashen face of a human being who is thinking and look at what lies behind; look into that soul, look into that obscurity. There, beneath the external silence, giants are doing battle as in Homer, melees of dragons and hydras, and clouds of phantoms as in Milton, ghostly spirals as in Dante. Such gloom enfolds that infinity which each man bears within himself and by which he measures in despair the desires of his will and the actions of his life!"

Pg. 225: "One can no more keep the mind from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to a shore. For the sailor, this is called the tide; in the case of the guilty, it is called remorse. God stirs up the soul as well as the ocean."

Pg. 226: "Certainly we talk to ourselves; there is no thinking being who has not experienced that. One could even say that the word is never a more magnificent mystery than when, within a man, it travels from his thought to his conscience and returns from his conscience to his thought...There is great tumult within; everything within us speaks, except the tongue. The realities of the soul, though not visible are palpable, and nonetheless realities."

Pg. 231: "Diamonds are found only in the dark bowels of the earth; truths are found only in the depths of thought."

Pg. 235: "And whatever he did, he always fell back onto this paradox at the core of his thought. To remain in paradise and become a demon! To re-enter hell and become an angel!"

Pg. 313: "Babylon violated diminishes Alexander; Rome enslaved diminishes Caesar; massacred Jerusalem diminishes Titus. Tyranny follows the tyrant. Woe to the man who leaves behind a shadow that bears his form."

Pg. 379: "A torn conscience leads to an unraveled life."

Pg. 382: "Finding themselves in such a world at the dawn of their existence, so young, so defenseless, what must go on in these souls fresh from God?

Pg. 439: "Oh, divine unfathomable mystery of Destiny's compensations."

Pg. 509: "This is not the place for an inordinate development of certain ideas; however, while absolutely maintaining our reservations, our restrictions, and even our indignation, we must admit, whenever we meet the Infinite in man, whether well or poorly understood, we react with respect. There is in the synagogue, in the mosque, in the pagoda, and in the wigwam, a hideous side that we detest and a sublime aspect that we adore. What a subject of meditation, and what a limitless source of reverie is the reflection of God upon the human wall!"

Pg. 514: "Superstitions, bigotries, hypocrisies, prejudices, these phantoms, phantoms though they be, cling to life; they have teeth and nails in their shadowy substance, and we must grapple with them individually and make war on them without true; for it is one of humanity's inevitabilities to be condemned to eternal struggle with phantoms. A shadow is hard to seize by the throat and dash to the ground."

Pg. 517: "At the same time, while there is an infinite outside of us, is there not an infinite within us? These two infinites (frightening plural!), do they not rest superimposed on one another? Does the second infinite not underlie the first, so to speak? Is it not the mirror, the reflection, the echo of the first, an abyss concentric with another abyss? Is this second infinite intelligent, also? Does it think? Does it love? Does it will? If the two infinites are intelligent, each one of them has a principle of will and there is a "me" in the infinite above, as there is a "me" in the infinite below. The "me" below is the soul; the "me" above is God.
"To place, by process of thought, the infinite below in contact with the infinite above is called "prayer."

Pg. 569: "Laughter is sunshine; it chases winter from the human face."

Pg. 646: "The hand that sweeps around the dial also moves among souls."

Pg. 646: "There is nothing like a dream to create the future. Utopia today, flesh and blood tomorrow.

Pg. 678-679: "For there are many great deeds done in the small struggles of life. There is a determined though unseen bravery that defends itself foot by foot in the darkness against the fatal invasions of necessity and dishonesty. Noble and mysterious triumphs that no eye sees and no fame rewards, and no flourish of triumph salutes. Life, misfortunes, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are battlefields that have their heroes; obscure heroes, sometimes are greater than the illustrious heroes.
"Strong and rare natures are created this way; misery, almost always a stepmother, is sometimes a mother; privation gives birth to power of soul and mind; distress is the nurse of self-respect; misfortunes gives good milk for great souls."

Pg. 682: "The soul helps the body, and at certain moments raises it. It is only the bird that sustains its cage."

Pg. 693: "In fact, were it given to our human eye to see into the consciences of others, we would judge a man much more surely from what he dreams than from what he thinks. There is will in the thought, there is none in the dream. Even in the gigantic and the ideal, the dream which is completely spontaneous, takes and keeps the form of our mind. Nothing springs more directly and more sincerely from our innermost souls than our unreflected and indefinite aspirations toward the splendors of destiny. In these aspirations, much more than in ideas which are structured, studied, and compared, can we find the true character of each man. Our chimeras are most like us. Each of us dreams the unknown and the impossible according to his own nature."

Pg. 711-712: "The glances of women are like certain seemingly peaceful but really formidable machines. Every day you pass them in peace, with impunity, and without suspicion of danger. There comes a moment when you forget even that they are there. You come and go, you muse, and talk, and laugh. Suddenly you feel caught up! It is all over. The wheels have you, the glance has captured you. It has caught you, no matter how or where, by some wandering of your thought, through a momentary distraction. You are lost. You will be drawn in entirely. A train of mysterious forces has gained possession of you. You struggle in vain. No human succor is possible. You will be drawn down from wheel to wheel, from anguish to anguish, from torture to torture. You, your mind, your anguish, your future, your soul; and you will not leave the awesome machine, until, depending on whether you are in the power of a malevolent creature, or a noble heart, you are disfigured by shame or transfigured by love."

Pg. 900: "There is another law of these young years of suffering and concern, of these acute struggles of first love against first obstacles, that the young girl does not allow herself to be caught in any trap, the young man falls into all of them."

Pg. 932: "Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees."

Pg. 934: "You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love is to live by it."

Let My Heart Hold Fast

Pretty much, this video sums up the feelings of my heart for the last several days/weeks. 

Side Note: The song was featured on the episode of How I Met Your Mother where Barney proposes to Robin. There is so much win to this song.

Oh, the desolation grows!

In a time when everything and nothing makes sense, what does it take to change everything we know? Everything we've come to love?

All my desperate calls echo off the walls, back and forth then back again.

Are prayers just wishes in disguise? Do the words fly up while the thoughts remain below? Cries for help so often go unanswered. They resound only in our ears, echoing off the walls of our heads, getting no further. 

Always searching, always blind.

Do you ever feel that way? Like you are always looking for something, but never sure what it is you are looking for or where to find it? You don't even know what it looks like, feels like, or how to know when you've found it? Welcome to my life.

Oh, my soul is now exposed.

Not entirely. That would be a rash thing to do on the Internet. Also, it's a fairly rash thing to do in everyday life, I feel like. Too bad indecent exposure doesn't also apply to exposing one's soul. I joke. A little...

To believe I walk alone is a lie that I've been told.

And yet, in the midst of all these things, there is the promise that we are never alone or unaided in the things we face. To believe otherwise is to believe a falsehood. To believe I walk alone is, indeed, a lie that I've been told and one I've told myself.

Let your heart hold fast for this soon shall pass.
There's another hill ahead...

Let Not Your Minds Turn Back

I posted this video last year for New Year's Day, and I'm posting it again because it's still applicable.

In the last year, I have lived in Romania, visited London and Ireland, spent three weeks in Mexico, started working as a research assistant, campaigned in Colorado for the President, applied for and gotten accepted with Teach For America, decided on a career path in social work, formed meaningful relationships with professors, and had graduate school offers.

A lot happened in 2012.

A lot has happened in my life. I realized this semester that I have moved 17 times since turning 18 and graduating from high school. Basically, I'm a gypsy. I'm OK with that, since I happen to love gypsies.

2013 will be marked by transitions. I will be graduating from college, moving halfway across the country, and I will spend the summer in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I will begin two years teaching middle school Communication Arts in Kansas City. I will have health and dental insurance. I will be a salaried employee. I will have my own classroom. I will be a thousand miles from family, and yet have people I consider family close by. I will be back in the place I grew to love as a missionary.

2012 was a time of personal growth, change, and acceptance. It was a time of upheaval, transition, and understanding. 2012 taught me that God lives in a small hospital in Iasi, Romania, that children are incredibly resilient, and that great beauty can be found in service. 2012 left me a little bit scarred -- both physically and emotionally. It also left me stronger. It gave me an increased desire to change the world.

I do not know all that 2013 will hold for me. It's going to be a surprise. I'll be in new places with new people, and it will be where I want and am suppose to be. It will be hard and unfamiliar. There may be times when I want nothing more than to go back to Provo, which is a strange thought. But, it is time to look forward. It is time to build on the past, not pine for it. The New Year brings with it the inherent development of resolutions. I don't like making resolutions because they are too easily broken. Each day ought to be an opportunity for a resolution. Perhaps, I will develop New Day's Resolutions.


In a religion class I took this semester, there is a verse that says, "Let not your minds turn back..." So often, that is what religion and life call us to do. In studying Nietzsche this semester, I have learned the role of suffering in helping call us to a higher way a life, a way of life that does not allow us to look back, does not allow us to view our suffering as evil. Suffering is a part of life because creation begets suffering. In order for us to create new selves, we must suffer. Change is a process of suffering. The Gospel of Jesus Christ compels us to change, to suffer, and to progress. 

In asserting that suffering is necessary to existence, I in no way encourage seeking out suffering. That idea is also condemned by Nietzsche. Rather, what I am advocating is a sense of amor fati, a love and acceptance of one's fate. It is an attitude of "Come what may, and love it."  

And so, I wish you each a Happy New Year. May it be full of opportunities for growth, even if those opportunities mean experiencing physical or emotional pain. May you embrace those opportunities out of a love for life, and not shun them out of resentment. I wish for you to make New Day Resolutions, and to stick with them. Do not go quietly into that dark night. Above all, remember that this is still a beautiful world.