Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5

I write a lot about happy things, and it's not that life in genereal is not happy here, but those stories just aren't the whole picture. Yesterday was one of those days that I hated Romania.

I didn't sleep the night before, because I am burdened by some family things lately, and the day at the office was long and unfocused. As I sat in the class I TA for, all I could think of was going home, making dinner and working in front of the TV. As I walked home, my mind raced and my stomach growled. It's not uncommon for teenage boys to yell expletives in english at me as I walk by, but I always justify it by telling myself they don't really know what they are saying- they just learned it from movies. However, yesterday I walked by a group of boys and heard them asking each other in Romanian "how do you say suck my dick in english", once they found someone who knew, they proceeded to yell it at me. No justification here, I was at the edge by now...just waiting to get home and unwind.

I walk the six flights of stairs and unlock my apartment door. My hand instinctively feels for the kitchen lightswitch...nothing happens. This is not the first time that someone in my building has rewired the electrical current so they are stealing mine and I'm left in the dark, but it's the first time it has happened since I started living alone. I crumble in a miserable heap in the dark and just cry for awhile before I move the contents of my fridge to the balcony and go to the Bates' for dinner .

These types of things are even harder to deal with here because in a different culture and society you feel so powerless. Autonomous, independent Davia can do nothing but don a headlamp and thank God she has a gas stove. I can't call the cops because, after the medical system, the poilce department is the institution i am most terrifed of. And to go seek out the thief on my own is just foolish. It was a long, dark night.

So I awoke this morning, determined and revived by the sigh of a thin blanket of white zapada on the ground and the feel of warm coffee in my hand. Thankfully I had breakfast before the water cut out today. Here we go....