In Budapest; selections from Nancy's journal

We are back in Budapest after an amazing week of love and friendship in what we now think of as "our" village of Homoródszentmárton. It was quite a contrast to have to deal with speeding cars and traffic signals when we were used to a walking pace, in a village where the traffic jams were caused by the cows going out to pasture in the morning and coming home at night, and the honking we heard was that of geese, not car horns.

We were sad to leave the village but look forward to sharing our journey with everyone back home.

-Carol

Below is a copy of Nancy's email covering Kolozsvár and our first few days in the village.
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My dear friends at home,

Below are my lonnnnnggg journal entries from the past few days, drawn mostly from my e-mails to Kevin (with just a "few" edits, of course). We miss you, and feel so connected to you, even though we are far away!

There is much more to come!

love

Nancy


Wednesday, July 25, 2007--from Koloszvar

After a good full day in Budapest on Monday, yesterday we took a 12-hour sleep-inducing bus ride to Koloszvar, which is in a bit of a valley in the midst of the western Carpathian mountains. Almost no "freeway" in our terms, but smallish winding roads most of the way. It was amazing how the look of things changed almost as soon as we crossed the border into Romania. After the requisite Communist-era poorly kept cement buildings, we were soon out in the countryside with rolling hills in the distance (hills into which we would climb, as we steamed upward into the Carpathians--which are "old" mountains, fairly low, green, rolling). Picture-perfect villages nestled in valleys (near the water, instead of on ecologically unfriendly hillsides for the VIEW, the way our U.S. developers do it--all such details noticed and decoded by my brilliant fellow pilgrims). Farmers were working fields with horse- or mule-drawn carts, and giant hay bales stood like fairy-tale pictures in the fields. We stopped in a tiny town that has turned itself over to roadside crafts shops--lots of embroidery, pottery, wood carvings, and elaborate traditional dresses. I resisted! But I had some great conversations with the locals with my slowly increasing Hungarian vocabulary and their broken English. The people seem friendlier here than in stern, urban, weary Budapest!

Finally we got here, to Koloszvar, totally knocked out, and climbed 95 stairs (one of my fellow pilgrims counted them today) with our luggage up to the fourth floor of the Unitarian headquarters (Transylvania's "25 Beacon Street") where there has been a Unitarian high school for 450 years! With help from partner churches, they have completely renovated the top floor as a dormitory--and it has much-appreciated air conditioning--and this is where we are staying. Our skylights open to a view of the large inner courtyard--it is a little like living in the inner courtyard of the Louvre or Versailles. We all took turns standing on a chair in my room (shared with Crystal and Rev. Erika) to stick our heads out through these open windows to catch the view and to watch (briefly!) a fabulous lightning storm that broke the heat and zigzagged across the night skies.

We were met at the dorm by two wonderful young university guys from the village, Dyobbi (sp??) and Istvan (pronounced, roughly, Chawbee and Eeshtehvahn); they are here to "carry us home"--home to our village, that is! Meanwhile, they are having a fabulous time touring the city with us and playing poker with our youth until the wee hours. Our little community expands one by one, already deeply embracing Rev. Erika Orban (last year's Balacs Scholar) who has been our AMAZING guide.

Today we went as a big group through the Unitarian school (now expanded to elementary and high school), and into the teeny, steamy, but fascinating library there, with a book from 1555 just sitting in a cabinet and held in bare hands by the young professor who showed it to us. "It's the best we can do in terms of preservation!" he said. Then on down the street a few doors to the big Unitarian church here--this is Transylvania's "Mother Church" in many ways. A bunch of our youth led a group of us waaaayyyyyy up some dusty old narrow wooden stairs to the rafters of the bell tower, adrenaline pumping as each level, which had seemed to be the last, revealed yet one more staircase. The kids were all saying, "I wonder how long it has been since anyone has been up here!" There has been a lot of that sense of first-time discovery and awe for us pilgrims, both young and old, throughout the day, as we move more deeply into the heart of our pilgrimage.

The church itself is beautiful, and we all sang a couple of familiar hymns out of their tiny Hungarian hymnbook: "Find a Stillness, Keep a Stillness" (which is in our gray hymnal) and "Nearer My God to Thee"! Then on to the home of this really famous good Hungarian king from the fourteenth century, and then to the now-Catholic cathedral which had been taken over by the Unitarians in the 16th century after Francis David came back from the Diet of Torda (where the first act of religious toleration was passed). When he returned, he stood on a rock in the middle of Koloszvar (the rock is now in a special room in "our" church--and I will get to stand on it tomorrow [see our blog!]). There he preached such a sermon that the whole town converted at once to Unitarianism, and lifted him onto their shoulders and carried him over to the then-Catholic cathedral and took it over! And they promptly set about covering all the glorious 13th-century paintings on the walls with plaster, so as not to "worship idols"! Today you can see where the current occupants (Catholics once more) have chipped the plaster away to show the old paintings.

It was tough on all of us moving in one huge group this morning, but everyone has been very patient. I'm so impressed with the spirit and attitude of our pilgrims! Of course we can see all of our "stuff" starting to prickle outward from weariness and the stress of all this newness and the way we are traveling, but I've only heard of one major meltdown, and I am have really only shown my USUAL neuroses, which I've been able to catch fairly quickly. :-)

Most of all, the multicultural situation is really fascinating, and it's particularly fascinating to see Romania through the eyes of the long-oppressed Hungarian minority. Here is our brilliant 28-year-old minister-guide Erika offering all this depth of history, making me feel how current 500 years ago is to these people! She strives to give an "objective" picture of the situation with the Romanians now, but she knows too that she can't suppress her strong feelings sometimes. When we visited the home of the Hungarian king, for instance (the "truthful king," they call him, or "the king of truth," for his virtues), it's not a museum, but its Romanian caretakers let us come into the inner garden area for a moment--and then they stood glaring at us and rolling their eyes. When I interrupted Erika mid-sentence to say we needed to go (yes, this was one of my neurotic moments), Erika said with some heat and great pride, "We can relax. I know whose home this is!"

It's outrageously hot here, including in this internet cafe. One of my best moments came at about 2:00 today, when Geoff and I found a little cafe where we could sit outside in the shade, and an actual cool breeze fanned us, and they had lovely salads and even DECAF cappuccinos. It was so exactly the kind of place that Kevin and I like to hang out in that I missed him EVEN more, if that's possible!

Friday, July 27--from Homorodszentmarton

Here is the scene from where I sit, at Joszef's computer in his and his wife Erika's bedroom:

Across the unpaved street right outside the window beside me, half our pilgrims are clearing and leveling a ten-meter-diameter area in the churchyard, the part that is outside the old fortifications, and there we will place a stone labyrinth, our permanent gift to them. It is quite amazing ... I worked with them for an hour, sorting rocks, shoveling, even some pickaxing, and everyone made a big deal out of that, :-); I knew that was all the time I should take procrastinating getting to work on my sermon for Sunday. And more procrastination is the reason I am writing this journal now, of course!

Yesterday, I experienced a true state of grace. It was a glorious day from my early morning solo stroll in Koloszvar, through the bus ride into ever more beautiful hill and mountain scenes, with a surprise stop at the very church in Torda where the very first Edict of Religious Freedom was passed after a bunch of theologians gathered for the Diet and argued their theologies, and the king converted to Unitarianism, and Francis David won the day. My heart just leapt. I could not believe how powerful it felt!

But that feeling was nothing compared to how I felt when we arrived here in the village. I was truly so deeply happy--no, so truly joyful, not in an overly elated or hyper way, but in that deep calm sure sense of grace, gratitude, God. I can't explain or describe it exactly, and it has already dissipated from its pure state, but it was profound. It felt like a moment of discernment, like I had found my place. Kind of like the way I felt when I walked into the San Jose sanctuary for the first time. This is where I am supposed to be. I am home.

Saturday, July 28--Szentmarton

Our congregants leveled and cleared the area of the churchyard and laid out the labyrinth in a day!! It is a miracle. All of us can sense something much greater than us going on here (they discovered yesterday that the church tower and this funny rock-and-cement low mound, which has been built as a surprise to be the center of the labyrinth, are completely aligned east-west-north-south with their corners, so all us pagans are thrilled with the earth-centeredness of it all). Some young folks from the village and a few of us began a mural inside the small building on the church grounds that serves as Sunday school classroom and winter sanctuary. And some of our youth and adults unearthed a few tombstones that were sinking into neverneverland, including an old one that had been made from a round millstone. The radiance on everyone's face is blinding. I am preaching on the Transfiguration tomorrow (Mark 9:1-8)!

In the evening, we walked half an hour into the hills to a picnic by the river. The lay president of our congregation here brought his horse wagon, then unhooked the horse, gave it a bath in the river, and saddled it for folks to ride! It was the biggest gathering of "us-and-them" so far, and once the wine and beer began to flow, and MM's bead-making had gathered the children in both languages, the mingling across borders began to flow too. On the way back, Rev. Erika, John Butcher (Josh's dad), and I were walking along, admiring the moonrise over the hills, when we were almost literally kidnapped by the local veterinarian, who had also been our main barbecue chef and my avid conversationalist about politics, etc., throughout the picnic. They demanded that we get into a car, and then drove us to a restaurant, where they wanted us to drink more wine with them! We managed to teetotal and forced them to drink quickly, as we were all due at a folkdance performance and teaching session at the local cultural center. But we weren't allowed to leave until the vet-chef made us promise that we would bring the whole gang to his home for another party on Monday night! Never mind that we include four vegetarians, one wheat-sugar-sensitive person, and me, with my sensitivities to garlic and onions (the latter a main staple of Transylvanian food). Never mind what Jozsef had planned for us! The guy said, "The program must change, just as the nuclear program has changed!" He is, needless to say, a character. As I write, it remains to be seen whether this "extra" party will really take place, or whether it was just "the wine talking," but however it turns out, it was an unforgettable day.

Monday, July 30--just before we leave for Bran Castle ("Dracula's home")

In the middle of Saturday, when I was closeted in Joszef and Erika's bedroom working on the worship service for 16 hours almost straight through, Joszef came bursting in, his face alight. "I am SO excited!" he said. "Wait until you see the mural! Yesterday I thought it was good and nice, but today, ... it is AMAZING!" Indeed, when you see the pictures, I hope your breath, too, will be taken away. Working together, we are truly "transfiguring" our Transylvanian home!

I will tell you more about the worship service and labyrinth dedication on Sunday later!

Now I must run to the bus to visit Dracula's castle--it's a Romanian tale and doesn't mean so much to our Transylvanian brothers and sisters, but of course we Americans must go.

My love to everyone,

Nancy