by It’s been a bitterly cold Christmas Eve. This morning I went back to the open-air clothes market in the southern part of town that I first visited last weekend. I spent far too much on an old jacket even though it was half what they initially quoted me. They saw me coming. After handing over 50 lei I said “congratulations”. The temperature was stuck at minus four (I could hardly even do up the zip, it was that cold), I’d had enough of stallholders who wouldn’t leave me alone, and I just wanted to get out of there. I went back to the bar that served dangerously cheap liquor, only so I could use the loo. There are two loos, a men’s and a women’s, but as far as I can see no women venture inside that establishment except the one who works behind the bar. Someone, a bloke obviously, was being sick in the ladies as I used the gents. Meanwhile someone dressed up as a multicoloured goat jumped and danced from one apartment block to the next, accompanied by singers (shouters?) with trumpets and drums and whistles and bells. Click here for video! There’s some celebratory “thing” in the middle of town this evening, not too far from where I’ll soon be living, but it is so cold.
I got my registration certificate allowing me to stay in Romania for five years. Wow, as long as that! How exciting! To obtain the certificate I had to prove that I had sufficient funds to support myself. How much is that, I asked. I was told, in English, twenty pounds.
Tomorrow I’ll Skype my cousin in Wellington and we’ll have a glass of wine together. It’s always wine o’clock somewhere.
In another six months, if I survive that long, I’ll be complaining about how hot it is.
