Monday, August 17: Outward Bound is history! Except for the unexpected postscript that told all. On the ride back to Targu Mures, I'd inadvertently left my red Eddie Bauer sweater in the van. As I was fond of this sweater, I had a call put in to the driver, who turned out to have brought it home with him and stored it at his apartment in town. The driver, a fortyish, pleasant fellow who spoke little English, ended up meeting me at the OB office, from where he took me back to his flat, gave me back the sweater, and introduced me to his wife and three kids. The wife, who spoke English reasonably well, insisted on giving me a lunch of stewed cabbage, and then called the bus station for information on departures.

After a pleasant hour or so of talking to the family and admiring their vintage piano, the man drove me to the bus station, where he insisted on waiting not only the 15 or 20 minutes until the bus arrived, but until I had boarded and was in my seat, and, waving at me from outside, he had seen me safely off. Before I boarded I offered him money for his services, which he flatly refused, waving it away as if the bills were poisonous. I finally gave him some postcards for his kids. I still think about this bus driver once in a while.

Most, if not all, of the OB participants had already left for their homes by this time -- if not by foot, then by train. Deciding to get a little more Transylvanian sightseeing in since I was already in the area, I was off for Sighisoara, to the southeast. (The bus ticket cost $1.49 for the 80-minute journey, cheaper than a New York subway ride but no less sweaty.)

*****

Trying to look objectively at my behavior under extreme stress, I'm afraid that I'd have to say that many times I acted, if not abominably, then selfishly, or at least churlishly, egocentrically and unsympathetically.

But on the surface, this behavior seemed to be all right with the others -- they either didn't notice it, or wrote it off to my advanced age and/or my not being a typical Romanian, who took two weeks a year to harvest fruits and vegetables in the countryside and was used to such conditions. Also, I seemed to win some respect in the end through my determination to see things through. (Actually, what really drove me more than anything else was my determination to not be talked about as the American who quit.) For all this, by the end of the two weeks I found I'd developed a new- found, and very welcome, increased sense of self-respect. Which would seem to indicate that the program, for all its seeming incompatibility with my background, life experience and temperament, accomplished its goal, if in a convoluted way.

In Romania I met some of the nicest, most decent people I've ever encountered, and was touched by so many things - the so-real-it's-scary, constant presence of the peasants around me, the roadside merchants with pails full of berries they'd just picked that day, the Transylvanian rural architecture, the routine but startling kindnesses. I sought the simple and found it. Lucky.

This is my silent cry to the people of Romania every day (and Slovenia, too): Don't lose what you have, don't lose what's precious and what's yours alone, don't lose it.

I cannot forget something else Csongi told me: Before he started climbing mountains, he looked at them as huge, forbidding things. "Now I look at one and say: It is just a mountain."

In time, I realized another thing about myself. For all my veneer of cynicism and sneering and bitterness, and for all the sundry awful things that have happened to me at various times in my life, at heart I am a secret optimist, and will always be one.

*****

For my post-Outward Bound adventures in Romania (including Sighisoara, Arad, Oradea, culture shock in Budapest, and my November trip to Timisoara), continue to Part 2.

IF YOU DARE...

Intrigued by all of this? Interested in finding out more about Outward Bound Romania? They're still going strong and have many reasonably priced programs to suit your needs (tell 'em I sent you, and good luck). Their website is at www.outwardbound.ro

Here's the address of the Cabana Dochia (bring your own toilet paper):

S.C. Durau S.A.
Statiunea Duran
Jud. NEAMT
Cod 5669
Romania
attn: Andras Titi