Here is what I hastily wrote last night, after coming face to facewith more deep seated culture differences:

Tonight was Uricani Days, a summer festival just to hang out and stuff. We arrived as it was beginning to get dark, and the music began. I was surprised at how all these people, so different from each other (or at least looked that way) could come together and dance to the same music. With us were my roommates, Laura and Alex. I have loved getting to know both of them better over the past few weeks, and Alex has become like a brother here to me. He teases me, but I know he’s there in the end. Something you should know about Alex is that he’s a total rocker. He loves death metal and head banging and hes a great dancer. It’s fun to watch him at Viata disco nights because he different, and I think it’s great. So a series of different bands played, with different music. At the beginning there was a rock band and we all laughed as Alex and some of his friends head banged. As the night went on, our group of Viata people grew and it turned into a big party. We played “Roman Chairs” and had a huge congo circle. So fun. At one point Alex gave me a huge hug and I thought about how glad I am for he and Laura.
And then this girl came on to sing hip hop-ish songs. Alex and his friends began to dance provocatively with each other (boys dancing with each other- pretty unorthodox for Romania) and I guess some of them waved the middle fingers in the air instead of the rock on sign, though I did not see it. A little while later, the Politia Communitare descends on the crowd, and pulls Alex and other boys away. Laura tries to talk to them but they push her aside. I am nervous, and then just to my right a young boy is pulled by me, talking fervently, and the politia hits him in the face with his club, hard. Now I am taken aback. Everyone looks very nervous and Laura goes with Claudius to go find her brother. I am told that Alex will be taken to a van and beaten. At this statement, I feel ill and choke back a gag, suddenly realizing I’m not in America, the land of misfits and due process. We stood there feeling the taste of the music go sour in our mouths like overdue milk. The four of us aliens, suddenly feeling too alien, went for a walk on the outskirts of the concert, where politia are swarming. I look up and see one with two young scantily clad girls, touching their breasts and thighs. I just want to scream something in English…..anything, especially anything with four letters. We talk about our power as Americans and wonder if theres anything we can do. Finally we find the rest of our group, outside the makeshift police station next to the riot vans. Someone had said something about the boy who was struck, and they were told they surely didn’t see that happen. Everyone is standing around and I’m struck by the atmosphere. It is not outraged or frustrated, but just patient and curious…as if we were waiting for an iphone or the latest video game machine and not our friend. Again the urge to scream overcomes me. Finally Alex is released, safe, but with a fine of 200 lei for “obscene gestures”…you can see on Alex’s face, that he would have rather been beat up. This amount is almost twice our rent and utilities for one month. This is money his sister will need to sacrifice, money that needs to go to her doctors bills for her rare illness…
I’m left with my mind running in circles….we could file a complaint- this is so injust….but then what would it do? Romania can’t even keep Visas or immigration papers straight let alone a complaint…but I’m American- the press would listen to me…and yet I’m left with the question- why does my voice resound stronger because I hold a passport with a bald eagle on it? That is also injustice…
So tonight, I go to bed, frustrated, spoiled, and more mindful of the differences between the privileged life I lead. And I hope that at least I and others who read this may be more aware of our freedom in America. That although sometimes it is hard to see the justice we are privileged to, especially if we are adolescents, but tonight I thank God that people like my friends, Becca and Austin and Victor and Sara and Joe and all the others who are a little different can be free to be different in our country, where if we are really honest, it is not illegal to be a teenager. Rock on.