I’m thinking of that scene where Jack partakes in a black tie dinner with Kate and fellow “old money” folk in first class. He explains how he is a wanderer, slumming his way from place to place, never knowing where he’ll end up. Under a bridge one night, first class on a ship the next.

That’s our story, too. And I love it. I thrive on the fact that my whole world can change in a day and I can be in a totally new, totally foreign, uncomfortable, comfortable, satisfying or unsatisfying place. No two days are alike. In fact, they’re worlds apart.

The several days leading up to tonight’s ride were brutal to say the least, but wonderful. En route to Piraeus from Romania could have been the roughest travel segment I’ve experienced yet.

I was sick from the coffin, or sleeping couchette, we crammed into with five other people for ten hours, I was throwing up in and outside of the train, on a bus to the airport, in the airport, Sierra’s daypack was stolen in Piraeus, we were nearly thrown off a train by Hungarian police at 4 a.m., Cody lost his favorite hat, we were hot and uncomfortable and dehydrated trekking around the city all day with our bags until we were herded like cattle on the cruise liner at midnight.

But on this journey I also found my fairytale castle, felt the rain on my face running in the Alps, got lost in a world all my own in the most magical green gardens I’d ever seen, spun in a human whirlpool, tasted gelato as it’s meant to be tasted…

….

Sorry, slight pause. Sierra and I just snuck downstairs into the “nice cabins’’” bathrooms to execute a ‘face wipes shower’ in the sinks…our first in three days. Awesome.

And why is this wonderful? Because it’s chaos. It’s foreign and uncomfortable and comfortable and strange and exciting and tiring and trying all at the same time. When I’m pulled at so much every day, confronted with new trials and roadblocks and lucky breaks and let downs and tiny miracles all at once I sometimes feel like I’ll just explode; every emotion I own, some I didn’t even know I possess, is brought to the surface at the same time. I don’t think I can feel any more alive than when I do this.

Just several weeks ago, we were in a five-star apartment driving a baller Escalade around one of the nicest cities in Europe. In Eichenbichel I slept on a cloud at an Austrian bed and breakfast, I bunked in a ten person room in a hostel/club in Prague, and here I am now on the water under the stars.

Do we know where we’re staying in Santorini? Not really. Maybe a hostel, if there’s room, the beach is always an option, camp grounds could be close by, some places rent out apartment rooms…

But wherever we end up is where we’re supposed to be. (I just formed and digested this opinion, it’s kind of liberating). The people you meet, travelers you come across, locals you encounter, train buddies you bunk with, they all are part of your journey that shape your unique experience in a place and when and how you arrive at your next destination. Doors open wherever you are. Wherever they lead, roll with it, hang on, and just love it.

“I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby–i just don’t care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it’s mine. Because it looks exactly like me. It can barf all over me if it wants to– I just don’t care.”
“Eat, Pray, Love” Elizabeth Gilbert

Amen sister.

Roberta and Cody

A brittle bag of bones rocks back and forth in her crib, alone. No toys, no color, no company to draw a smile. “Don’t touch,” a nurse informs our LOC leader. Don’t touch.

Love

A stark room with white walls, white floors, white cribs, white pajamas, and silence. You are now in a Romanian children’s hospital. We visited one, I thought, to bring the babies and children there surprise special entertainment for the day. I didn’t know we would be their only entertainment.

In Times of Trial…

Hospitals like this one in Ludus have become a haven for abandoned babies and young children. Parents habitually drop them off here, leaving them under hospital care for weeks, months, even years depending on when they feel like coming back to get them. Often, parents will drop off a child here for a while, then take him or her back, then leave them again.

The hospital, itself, devoid of color, compassion, and life provides the roughly 20 to 30 children with the bare essentials to survive minus one. Touch.

As we entered the room of ‘babies’ ranging several months to over two years to feed them, even more unnerving than the unnatural deafening silence of the babies, who should be crying and flailing, was the nurse who demonstrating feeding time; Shoving a bottle into an open mouth, then moving down the line to the next. Their little aged eyes, which have already begun to cross due to lack of being held, try to focus but aren’t used to the stimulation.

These children are not held. That’s why, we’ve been told by few volunteers who make weekly visits, the children have stopped crying. These babies, who on average look about two years younger than they actually are, learned it doesn’t do any good. Even as we cradled and tickled each child one by one, for the most part, they lacked any emotion in their small, fragile faces.

A grim truth, however, is that more often than not, the children who reside here in Ludus have a far better life than if they remained with their parents.

…There is hope

Even as my heart broke every minute I remained, I was filled with hope. In the next hour we spent playing with the older children, three years to eight or so, the pallid, wan faces came to life. Roberta, Simona, and those whose names are unknown delighted even in the smallest fraction of attention. The two-year-old bag of bones whom we were advised not to touch, came alive with the simplest hand stroke and gentle hug. Hearing laughter within these chilling walls, seeing smiles and being squeezed so hard by little fingers it’s hard to breathe, reminded me that even in the most hopeless and downtrodden situations love can conquer all.

“He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge.” Psalm 91:4.

Then we arrive in Romania into the care of Livada Orphan Care (LOC) and we can breathe. No more worrying about our next move. For once we have a schedule already assembled for us. As we deboarded our second train from Budapest (total transit time 10 hours) in the afternoon of the 11th, Sierra, Cody, and I transitioned from a self-centered, inward focused existence where our thoughts were harnessed solely on our own needs, to an outward focused one. For the next four days we would be serving with LOC, visiting a local orphanage and abandoned baby hospital, and building relationships with three groups of orphans under LOC’s care.

But as much as we would use this precious time in Romania to serve others, we, too, were served wholeheartedly by the selfless volunteers and staff at LOC. We cannot delve into our priceless experiences with the children here without first recognizing the Assistant Director of LOC, Kelly Hornsby, without whom nothing would have been possible.

From arranging our top notch accommodations in Taugres Maures, to picking us up and driving us everywhere we needed to be, be it to the orphanage, LOC houses, to lunch, or over to her home for movie and pizza nights with the kids, Kelly has been a true one-woman wonder and our life source in this foreign place. On top of arranging our days hour by hour with amazing activities and opportunities to be with the kids, she was an Encyclopedia of information for us, answering our countless questions and inquiries about this new world so different from our own.

Thank you LOC, from the very bottom of our hearts.

This South-Eastern treasure chest of ancient heritage contains numerous examples of diverse culture and art. The population, predominantly Romanians, with Hungarian, and minorities German and Gypsy, is just about split, with half living in urban areas, and half in rural locations.

However, one can’t ignore the mounting problem of the growing numbers of children placed in orphanages. The staggering numbers are due to substandard population policies there, forbidding birth control and abortion, and require women to have five children. These laws have led to the birth of far more children than can be supported by the country. For our service project we will be spending four days serving in the Livada Orphanage in Targu Mures.

Look Forward To…

-Ludus Baby Hospital
-Fun and games with the Children
-Take kids to the zoo and Museum Astra

(link to website: http://www.livada.org/)