Merry Christmas!

Fie ca aroma de brad, colindele, cozonacul cald si mirosul de iarna sa va umple inimile de bucurie si sufletele de liniste!



Grigore Lese -Marie, Fata Dalba
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coliba

Christmas street parade in Viseu de Sus

A new Christmas festival started last year in Viseu de Sus, Maramures. Its second edition took place on 14th December 2008.


The group of carols singers from Bistrita.

Plugusorul





Datini Si Obiceiuri - Primiti Cu Plugusorul
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Among carol singers wearing traditional clothes, any Christmas parade in Romania also has the so-called "draci", people wearing masks and costumes. They represent evil spirits and remind us of pre-Christian times.



Narcisa Suciu - Deschide Usa, Crestine
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Girl from Oas

COLIND FRUMOS CU PAULA SELING
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I met this girl in Viseu de Sus, Maramurs. She is a carol singer belongin to a group from Oas. She is wearing traditional Oas clothes at the Christmas street parade in Viseu de Sus.

Heavy snow

Gheorghe Gheorghiu-A venit iarna
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Winter thoughts

Wishing you all a great winter!



Stefan Hrusca - Un gand de iarna
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One

Just a matter of perspective...

FRATII PETREUS-Dusu-m-am la mandra-n sopru
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Wooden church from Viseu de Sus, Maramures

"Unique" - a word to describe the wooden churches of Maramures!

I took this photo in Viseu de Sus, which is a small town from Maramures, Romania.

Maramures wooden door (detail)

The wooden doors of Maramures are unique. One cannot pass by without noticing their beauty.Each door is a piece of art where the locals' woodcarving talent is displayed. Each Maramures wooden door has its own story to tell. When the doors are welcoming, the people are welcoming!

Fratii Petreus - instrumental
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Marta from Stramtura - a woman I met

She lives all alone in an old wooden house from Stramtura, Maramures. Her house is quite isolated from the rest of the village but the region is awesome. I approached her wooden house to take some photos and thus I met her. I enjoy talking to old people but sometimes their stories are sad. Marta’s story was sad. I found out that her husband had died the year I was born.

That day I just wanted to take a photo of a wooden house, happy that I’m on holyday. It was a day in which I felt particularly happy. When Marta approached her own house I was happy again. I like meeting people like her and I was happy I could take a photo of Marta in front of her house. She reminded me so much of my grandmother! I took the photos and then we talked. Thus, I found out about her 27 years of solitude, the same number of my age. And I felt that when my life started her life somehow ended.

But that’s just a part of the story behind the photo. I guess the photo will tell you even more…Just LOOK!



Opriti timpul - Corina Chiriac
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a window of the past

Detail of an old wooden house from Maramures, Romania.

...and some firewood for the winter.


fereastră spre trecut

de Ioan Ivascu

miroase-a lemn uscat, a veşnicie,
a frunze veştejite şi a lut,
iar zeul toamnei somnoros te-mbie
la tumbe largi în raiul tău pierdut




Paula Seling - Tu Nu Vezi ?
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Three

Just three baby flowers lost in my garden, three baby flowers lost in this late autumn, just three tiny and fragile flowers, giving a helping hand to a lost spider... (hmmm, I love taking photos)


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galaxy

This is a recent photo that I took, another autumn photo, of course. At first, I found it difficult to find a suitable title but today the GALAXY title came to my mind. The photo looks somehow like a galaxy, so I guess the title adds meaning to the image itself.




Este toamna iar-Gheorghe Gheorghiu
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THREE

My first photo!

Three tasty apples in my garden... Have you seen Adam and Eve?




toamna a si venit... Pasarea Colibri
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Autumn has come!

A venit, a venit toamna...

nicu alifantis- a venit toamna
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Ornamental plate / Blid

One of my favorites from my collection . I have this ornamental plate from my grandparents.



Ciprian Porumbescu - Balada
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Decoration (inside a traditional wooden house )

Handmade decoration inside a traditional wooden house from Maramures, Romania.



Poesis - Nu am mai fost acasa demult
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Maramures wooden door (detail)

TITIANA MIHALI-Cui ii canta cucu sara
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The wooden doors of Maramures are unique. One cannot pass by without noticing their beauty.
Each door is a piece of art where the locals' woodcarving talent is displayed. Each Maramures wooden door has its own story to tell.

When the doors are welcoming, the people are welcoming!

Tarancuta, tarancuta

Girl from Maramures - portrait

Just look at her smile!
I'm very proud of this photo. I guess a very Romanian portrait again. This time a young girl, wearing the oldest type of traditional costume preserved in Sacel, Maramures.


Dan Spataru - Tarancuta, tarancuta

Shepherd / Cioban

A typical traditional Romanian portrait. I took this photo in Sapanta, Maramures, at a festival called "Radacini Fest". The man is wearing traditional black and white clothes. What I particulary like about this costume is the hat. It is a shepherd's costume from Sibiu or its surroundings reflecting pastoral Romania.




Lucretia Ciobanu-Pleaca oile la munte

Traditional Romanian shoes - opinci (detail)

The so-called "opinci" are the traditional Romanian shoes. People used to wear them all over Romania before they started to be substituted with modern shoes. They are made of leather and they are also very confortable (believe me I tryed them on!).



The traditional Romanian shoes presented in this photo belonged to a woman. Although, apparently all the "opinci" look the same this detailed close up proves that each pair is unique. The beauty of each "opinca" depended on the talent and creativity of the person who made it. The "opinci" for women were more feminin (see the tiny little flowers on the traditional shoes in the photo) as compared to those for men, which were usually simple.

Doina de Jale - Gheorghe Zamfir
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Traditional Romanian food - sarmale

Mmmmmm....sarmale! Tasty!

This month I had more time to spend with my blog. We start to develop a kind of friendship... My best friend? My blog :)

So, since my blog became my best friend I decided not to ignore my blog readers as well. I know my blog is growing every day: more and more photos, more and more songs to listen to and text to read. That's why I thought that my blog readers got hungry while surfing my blog posts and TAAAARAAAMMMM!!!!! Here you are! Some sarmale for you! Too bad you can't feel the smell. But if you do want to feel it, here's the recipe:

INGREDIENTS

1/4 cups long grain rice, rinsed

2 pounds pork loin roast, finely diced

1 pound carrots, chopped

1 pound onions, chopped

1 pinch salt to taste

3 tablespoons tomato paste

1/2 teaspoon dried dill weed

1/4 cup sunflower seed oil

6 ounces parsley roots, chopped

1 medium head cabbage

DIRECTIONS

Place rice in a medium bowl, and pour boiling water over it. Let soak for 15 minutes, then drain. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the carrots, parsley roots, onions and tomato paste. Cook and stir until the vegetables are tender. Transfer the vegetables to the bowl with the rice. Heat 2 more tablespoons of oil in the same skillet over medium-high heat. Add the pork, and cook for about 2 minutes, just until browned on the outside. Transfer to the bowl with the rice and vegetables; season with dill and black pepper. Stir until everything is well blended. Set the mixture aside to cool.

Carefully remove the leaves from the head of cabbage, and place them in a large pot with about 2 inches of water. Bring to a boil, and cook for 5 to 10 minutes, until tender and flexible. Remove the cabbage leaves from the pot, but leave enough in the bottom to cover. On each of the remaining leaves, place about 2 tablespoons of the pork and rice mixture in the center, and wrap the leaf around to cover.

Place the stuffed cabbage leaves into the pot. When the pot is full, place a few boiled cabbage leaves over the top. Pour boiling water into the pot to cover the cabbage rolls, and place over medium-low heat. Cover, and simmer for about 30 minutes, until the rice is tender.

Good apetite!

Gheorghe Zamfir - Invirtita
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Barsana Monastery, Maramures, Romania

Maramures is famous for its wooden churches(Unesco heritage sites). They are Orthodox churches. The wooden churches are a distinct feature of Maramures. Here the natives' woodcarving talent shows up in a display of beauty and creativity.They are high timber constructions with characteristic tall, slim bell towers at the western end of the building.

Every time I visit Barsana Monastery I am speechless. It's like entering another world, a world which is closer to God, it's like entering a corner of Eden. Barsana Monastery is a holly and peaceful place that is worth visiting!

Folclor Autentic - colaj Grigore Lese
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Flowers for my blog readers

This is a surprise for you, my blog readers: one of my favorite flower photos. I took this photo this spring. You can see the dead leaves, the fragile grass and those tiny delicate wild flowers. Simply adorable! That's the reason why I like to take photos: each photo reminds me of a special moment or of a special day. Flowers are beautiful today and gone tomorrow. I don't know why I like flowers so much all of a sudden. There was a time when I just left them unnoticed while passing by or stepping on them. It's strange how my camera determined me to discover or rediscover their beauty. There was a time when I loved them more than I do now, and that was the time when I was a child.

Stefan Hrusca - Nunta de flori
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Sacel pottery / Ceramica Sacel

George Enescu - Rapsodia Romana nr.1
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Sacel is a village from Maramures, Romania. This village is famous for its so-called "Dacian ceramics", one of the oldest types of ceramics preserved in Romania. This craft was preserved in Sacel for over 2000 years and was transmitted from generation to generation.

The potter Tanase Burnar, the son of famous Tanase Cocian, is familiarised with the potter’s wheel since he was 10, when he started to make the first objects. Now he makes with great skill pots (see photo) for sarmale (traditional Romanian food made of meat, rice and cabbage), ceramic plates, cups and jugs burned once in the oven. The oven was built by the craftsman and uses the wood fire so the color of the clay is preserved. The clay used is kaolin, a fine and dense clay taken from deep springs from Drobodeava Hill, Sacel.

The Sacel pots are manufactured in the same style as the Dacian style. They are manufactured and ornamented using mineral elements. The ornaments are simple and resemble natural elements ( the flow of water, the sun, the line of life, drawings of men, folkloric motifs ), motifs also used in the Dacian ceramics. The continuity of this craft will be transmitted to the next generations.

May I come in?

It's so much fun taking photos sometimes! But I have to admit it's not easy to take pet photos. They never stand still.

With this photo I was lucky. There she was...eager to get in the house. She wanted to get inside my house and inside my blog! So, WELCOME her!




Cranberries - Animal instinct
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The Black Cell (the punishment Cell)

Memorialul victimelor comunismului si al rezistentei - Sighet, Maramures, Romania
THE MEMORIAL OF THE VICTIMS OF COMMUNISM AND OF THE RESISTANCE - Sighet prison, once a communist prison, today a museum.

The victim was locked in alone in complete darkness for hours, days and nights with no food. The floor was full of water so the victim had to stay half in the water with his hands tied to the ground. The hunger, the cold, the uncomfortable position of the victim was nothing compared to the complete darkness of the cell. The victims didn't know if it was night or day outside, didn't know what time it was, didn't know how long they've been locked in there.

If you ever visit this museum and get to this cell, enter it and close the door for one second to "see" its darkness and to realize that one second in this cell is no longer one second.



For me it is the second time I visit this museum. The first time I visited it we had a guide. I will never forget when the guide closed the door of the Black cell behind us, I got so scared. It was like a cold shower and I wasn't alone in there and I knew it was a museum and everything was over. I knew things have changed except for one thing: the blackness of this place.

Two days ago I visited the museum again. This time I was alone and it was Thursday morning. I found an empty museum, or an almost empty museum and of course it was quite scary at a certain point but I got over it. No matter how sad and shocking this museum is I would like to visit it again. I know there are a lot of people who wouldn't like to see it because they find it too shocking or too sad but I can't agree. I think we should go there and read the names written on the walls and look at their faces in the photos, I think we should remember or find out rather than forget or ignore.THEY deserve more.




VALERIU STELIAN ,,DOAMNE VINO DOAMNE"
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Iezer Lake

I finally climbed for the first time Pietrosul Peak, Rodnei Mountains, Romania, on 13th June 2008. I captured this photo as soon as I approached the Iezer Lake! There is something special and strange about this lake, the fact that it has the shape of the Romanian map. If you climb further on the Pietrosu Peak when you turn around and look at the lake from above, you can see it: the romanian map.

It feels great to step on June snow and drink the cold, fresh water of our mountains!




Ducu Bertzi - Floare de colt
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Negru

This is a photo of my black cat. She was so scared when I took this photo of her and of course so little, just a kitten. Just look at her eyes! It's obvious she has never seen a camera before...



Pasarea Colibri- Pisica Neagra
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MARAMURES, Romania

This is a self made postcard using some of my Maramures photos.It includes Barsana Monastery, Maramures wooden door (details), Marta and her house in Stramtura, a Sacel pot and a girl's portrait taken in Sighetu Marmatiei. The song accompanying this postcard is "Maramures plai cu flori"by Fratii Petreus.







Folclor Autentic Romanesc
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More about Maramures on other blogs here.

My photos on U-Tube

Nichita Stanescu -- Sad Love Song

A beautiful Romanian poem by Nichita Stanescu.

Only my life will die for me, in truth,
sometime.
Only the grass knows the taste of the earth.
In truth, only my blood misses
my heart when it leaves.
The air is tall, you are tall,
my sadness is tall.
There comes a time when horses die.
There comes a time when machines grow old.
There comes a time when cold rains fall,
and every woman wears your head-
and clothes.
There also comes a huge white bird
and lays the moon in the sky.

window view

Pietrosul Rodnei

This photo will always remind me of Borsa and its cold winters.



DAN SPATARU - DE VREI SA STII CE INSEAMNA...
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St. Clement church by the lake Ohrid and the song makedonsko devojce

This photo is the best I took in Macedonia, Ohrid. Sunset was near so that explains the beautiful lighting on St. Clement church .
This song will always remind me of Macedonia!

the ruins of Copsa Mica - view from the train / Compact - trenul pierdut

I travel a lot by train. Probably that's why this is one of the Romanian songs I like best!I was on the train when I took this photo in Copsa Mica.


Copsa Mica is a sad place. You can see in this photo, the factory which used to provide the terrible pollution in the region before 1989. Here's what is left of it: the ruins!
When one travels by train it is very easy to recognise Copsa Mica. The roofs are the first to tell the sad story of this place. The roofs of Copsa Mica are black, except for the new ones...

I AM

Dana is me. Because I have a pair of blue eyes and sometimes those eyes laugh, because I don't wear high heels and sometimes I walk barefooted, because I talk to people and sometimes I sing, I can sustain that I exist.

Those two words sound so empty and incomplete: "I am". Let's imagine what it would be like if we added a name: "I am Dana". This sentence becomes complete. One word, one name, becomes one existence or... my existence: Dana is me.

"Who are you?" I hear this question over and over again. I look around in the street: so many people, so many strangers. Who is this girl passing by? Or that man wearing a brown coat too large for his build? I walk further and further and I don't recognise anyone in the street. They don't know me. I don't know them. "Who are they?" Behind two questions life stays well hidden.

When my eyes no longer laugh, when I no longer walk in the street nor run, when I am silent, my steps are heard no more. My eyes will close and somebody will say: "Who was she?"

"I am" becomes inevitably 'I was" while high heels live longer and smiles still appear from time to time on peoples' faces.

photos taken by me: flowers

Oda ochelarilor aburiti

de Ioan Ivascu
(see: http://poezie.ro/index.php/author/0000915/index.html)

cu prietenie, Danei Grad

când cade ca o ghilotină
iarna în nordul plin de ceaţă
şi, prin fiorduri de lumină,
sufletul gol la porţi ne-ngheaţă,

când cerul e mâncat de carii
sau alb ca blana unui miel,
i se-aburesc iar ochelarii
colegei blonde din Săcel.

şi, deşi iarna stă grozavă
şi grea-ntre noi precum un zid,
ea pare o zeiţă slavă
descălecată din Ohrid,

ce-şi aranjează „her năframa”,
intrând pe-aceleaşi strâmte uşi,
într-o romgleză-n care drama
nu-şi va găsi nicicând culcuş

romania, simply surprising

Enjoy a video about Romania!

photos taken by me

Un altfel de Sacel

Ma plimb prin Sacel. S-a topit zapada si ploua marunt. Nu m-am mai plimbat de mult prin Sacel. De cele mai multe ori m-am grabit. Oare de ce suntem din ce in ce mai grabiti? Viata trece pe langa noi iar noi trecem pe langa viata. De atatea ori am trecut prin Sacel fara sa-l vad, fara sa-l ascult, fara sa mi-l amintesc. Si totusi e Sacelul meu, locul in care m-am nascut si de care intotdeauna ma voi simti legata.

De cate ori nu l-am vorbit de rau, de cate ori nu l-am criticat, de cate ori n-am vrut sa ma mai intorc la el spunand ca oriunde ar fi mai bine. Cu cat vrei sa dai uitarii un anumit loc cu atat iti dai seama ca te urmareste.

Ghetele imi sunt pline de noroi. Ma plimb prin Sacel. Nu m-am mai plimbat de mult. De fapt, oare m-am mai plimbat vreodata? Oare nu mergeam tot timpul intr-un loc anume, grabita, absenta. Noroi, noroi, noroi... E asa de mult noroi in Sacel!
Nu ploua cand am plecat de acasa. M-a prins ploaia pe drum. Dar am hotarat sa nu ma mai grabesc. Azi ma plimb. E atat de trist Sacelul cand ploua! Ghetele imi sunt pline de noroi. De atatea ori am trecut prin Sacel fara sa-l vad, fara sa-l ascult, fara sa mi-l amintesc. Azi vreau sa-l vad, azi vreau sa-l ascult, azi vreau sa mi-l amintesc!
Ma plimb prin Sacel si-mi aduc aminte ca in anul 1989 un grup de englezi care au vizitat Sacelul si au stat aici cateva zile, spuneau inainte de plecare ca Sacelul este „un muzeu viu”. Cata dreptate aveau ei oare si cat de mult s-a schimbat Sacelul in ultimii 19 ani sau cat de mult nu s-a schimbat?

Raspunsul este simplu: cat s-a schimbat in ultimii 19 ani nu s-a schimbat in 45 de ani de comunism. Cum era el in `89? Carutele si caii erau la tot pasul, case de lemn, ulite noroioase, porti si garduri din lemn. O priveliste de muzeu. Oricine a vizitat vreodata un muzeu al satului stie ca acolo nu se traieste, muzeul de asta e muzeu, sa arate lumii vremuri de mult apuse. Carutele nu mai cara fan (eventual sunt trasuri care plimba turisti), nu mai iese fum pe nici un horn oricat de autentice si de minunate sunt acele case din muzeu, ulitele nu mai sunt pline de balega ci doar randuri de flori pe o parte si pe alta. In grajd nimeni nu mai mulge vaca. In muzeul satului daca intri in grajd nici nu mai gasesti vreo vaca. Orica muzeu al satului e plin de artificialitate. Si totusi ce frumos este sa te plimbi prin muzeu, sa privesti pa geamul stramt al vreunei case de lemn.

Englezii aceia erau socati sa vada un muzeu care traieste si pe buna dreptate matusa Marie nu intelegea de ce a devenit brusc atat de importanta astfel incat sa fie ea fotografiata si filmata tocmai cand mulge vaca sau toarce. Abia daca a reusit sa-si aranjeze mai bine naframa pe cap si ei au si inceput sa o „ia in ping”. Iar Ionu lu` Vasale nu intelegea nici el de ce brusc acesti straini vor neaparat sa-l filmeze cum incarca fanul in podul grajdului.

Pentru ei vizita la Sacel a fost o calatorie in timp. Au ajuns cu avionul pana la Bucuresti si cu trenul pana la Sacel. Si cand te gandesti ca nici nu au avut nevoie sa inventeze masina timpului. Trenul, avionul sau masina personala ii aducea pe acesti prim turisti postdecembristi inapoi in timp, ii aducea intr-o alta lume de mult uitata pentru ei. Erau adevarati extraterestri pe plaiuri mioritice. Nu stiau sa-si spele hainele cu mana si tin minte ca erau atat de caraghiosi cand incercau sa-si stoarca hainele care oricum nu erau limpezite bine, sau cand se spalau pe dinti si isi inmuiau periuta de dinti in toata apa din galeata in loc sa-si ia frumos o cana de apa. Si cat de caraghiosi erau atunci cand isi turnau apa in cap unul altuia simuland dusul , caci nimic nu era mai complicat decat spalatul in lighean.

Sa exclamam „ce primitivi am fost!” sau sa ne intrebam „cat de primitivi mai suntem?” Si astazi daca treci prin Sacel cu masina intalnesti mai multe carute decat in oricare alt sat de pe Valea Izei; si astazi se mai gasesc case vechi de lemn si garduri si porti de lemn. Ce-i drept mai darapanate dar ica se mai gasesc. La Sacel se mai mulge vaca prin unele grajduri, mai trec care incarcate cu fan, se mai merge inca la coasa, se mai duc cergele la valtoare si porumb la moara pentru macinat, se mai face inca vestita ceramica de Sacel chiar daca nimeni nu mai gateste in oale de lut si nu mai duce nimeni cu ulciorul de lut, apa la muncitori in camp, caci a fost inlocuit cu banala sticla de plastic.

Am folosit mai sus termenul „primitiv”. Pentru unii acest termen poate avea o conotatie negativa. Insa deschideti putin ochii si veti recunoaste ca tot ce este primitiv este frumos si de valoare. Civilizatia inghite lcoma totul in calea ei, iar spectacolul pe cat este de trist pe atat este si de vesel. E bine sa ne civilizam, e bine sa ne schimbam mentalitatea si modul de viata. Nu sunt anti progres si chiar daca as fi nu l-as putea opri, nu l-am putea opri. Spun doar ca progresul inghite lacom, prea lacom valorile trecutului, spun doar ca nu ar trebui sa ne fie rusine de ce am fost si inca mai suntem pentru ca tocmai ceea ce progresul doreste sa inghita este ceea ce Maramuresul se zbate sa pastreze. Este un razboi iar noi nu vedem.

Ma plimb prin Sacel. Parca as fi pe front. Vad lupta dintre VECHI si NOU. Vad cum noul va fi biruitor. La trei case departare de casa mea se demoleaza o casa veche de lemn. In urma cu doua luni batrana care locuia in ea a murit. Nepotii au vandut casa. Acum o firma straina (nu stiu din ce tara) o demoleaza cu grija. Bucata cu bucata, fiecara barna este numerotata si insemnata. Zvonurile circula. Cica a fost cumparata de un german care o va reconstrui acolo. Sa fie oare adevarat? Posibil. Altfel de ce au atata grija la dezasamblarea ei? Oricum aceasta casa are o soarta mai buna, daca se poate spune asa. De ce? Pentru ca majoritatea caselor de lemn din Sacel, au ajuns in gura sobei, lemn de foc pentru iernile geroase. Si am avut ceva ierni geroase in ultimul timp pe aici in ciuda incalzirii globale.


Ma plimb prin Sacel. Cata explozie de culoare! Este la moda sa se construiasca case mari in Sacel. Cu cat mai mare cu atat mai bine. Si daca se poate cat mai colorata. Verde, portocalie, albastra, ma intreb ce mai urmeaza? Aici un gard din fier forjat, dincolo o vranita de lemn si ceva mai incolo un gard care sta sa se darame. Termopanele zambesc noroiului de pe ulita. S-a topit zapada. Doamne cat gunoi a iesit brusc la iveala. Pungi, borcane, mormane de gunoi nebiodegradabil zac pe ambele maluri ale Izei. Si poluarea abia incepe, caci Sacelul este prima localitate de pe Valea Izei. Iza de la noi izvoraste. Noi suntem primii care avem dreptul sa ne aruncam gunoaiele in ea.

Ma plimb prin Sacel. Am ajuns la moara lui Mecles care incredibil dar inca macina iar afara la valtoare o cerga alba cu negru se zbate. Mai in dreapta alte patru cerge stau intinse la uscat. Sunt si ele o explozie de culoare iar apa picura din ele si se prelinge in pamant.

Ma plimb prin Sacel. Nu ma mai gandesc la nimic. „Laudam pe Isus!” ma saluta o batrana care trece pe langa mine si inca poarta un pieptar cu trei cruci si panzaturi rosu cu negru. „In veci amin!” ii raspund eu. Ea tot trece inainte, merge leganat spre casa. Eu ma opresc din loc, ma intorc si o privesc. Ea se opreste la o poarta de lemn, darapanata si intra in curte iar apoi in casa. Este o casa mica de lemn, cu acoperis de dranita. Si ma gandesc: cat timp ea va trai si casa va trai iar in mintea mea imi rasuna din nou salutul ei: „Laudam pe Isus!”, „Laudam pe Isus!”, „Laudam pe Isus!!!”