Frau Paola

9.11.2012 We spent the day getting acquainted with the town of Brasov. Tom and I aren't generally shoppers but we did manage to fit in some souvenir shopping in between taking pictures. There are lots of beautiful old buildings to photograph and a gigantic, beautiful square which is the hub of the town. We enjoyed a cup of coffee/tea on the square and enjoyed the international people watching.

It seems that we were about due for a new adventure because it had been a few days since something extraordinary had happened to us...

Wile out taking pictures a Romanian woman of about 70 approached and (in Romanian) asked me if I was German. I have gotten that a lot here and I responded no, we are from the United States. She began to chatter to me in Romanian but I got the gist of what she was telling me. There was someplace really wonderful to take pictures that we had to see. She finally patted my arm and basically told me to wait for her , she'd be right back. So, much to Tom's dismay we waited. I sort of assumed she went off to find someone that spoke English. A few minutes later she came back, grabbed me by the arm and beg and to lead me away. Tom kept asking," what's going on, where are we going" as he trailed behind the lady leading me along by a friendly but firm grip. I looked back and said "I don't know, on an adventure". I told the lady my name and she told me she was Paola. Frau Paola. Then she stopped and pointed and said "Frau Paola's haus, ein, zwei, drei" as she pointed to the third floor. Ok, I get it... The great place with the wonderful place to take pictures was her house! Tom hung back but Frau Paola said come, come so he followed us (more to protect me than any real desire for the adventure I'm sure!) we went in to Frau Paola's home and she proudly showed us the view from the back window of her tiny apartment. She had a great view of the city... Too bad it was the very worst time of day to get good pictures! I snapped away though, to please Frau Paola. Then she took us to the back of her home and she had another great view of Mt. Tampa and the Brasov sign (think the Romanian version of the Hollywood sign). Again I snapped away. When I backed out of the window Frau Paola was gone. I whispered to Tom "where did she go?" Tom had no idea. We stood looking at each other for a minute before Frau Paola appeared with a sweet smile on her face and a piece of paper in her hand. She handed me her address so that I could write to her! It really was pretty touching, although how she would ever be able to read anything I would write to her, I haven't figured out yet! Anyone know a Romanian translator?