"While We Ache to Come Home..."

The Final Post from Romania

We knew this day would come, and we are ready. We welcome the transition while we mourn the upcoming goodbyes. Here is how we spent our last month in Romania.

Cetatea Rupea, June 2024, ©️Elizabeth Bellows

Camping with the Ukrainian kids and their families

The last time we had dinner with Sasha and Natasha, I asked Natasha if I could help out with the preschool children on an upcoming Saturday. She looked at Scott and me and said, "Really? Really?" I assured her we could help. She looked at Sasha, then back at us with a grin and said, "Ok. This weekend, you will come camping with us. Scott can help with the food." Of course we were happy to agree, not knowing where we would camp, what we would need to bring, or what all this camping weekend would entail.

When Natasha first arrived in Cluj, she was shuttled to a pensiunea, or guest house, that sat on both sides of the road in a beautiful, mountainous area west of Cluj. She arrived with her teenage kids back in 2022, while her husband was working on his cargo ship, just following the Russian invasion. From Odesa, Ukraine, Natasha brought her teenaged kids and was offered a room in one of the two guest house buildings, where there was a large shared kitchen, outdoor space, a playground, benches under shady trees, and across the street housed a little zipline, a trampoline, and a deck right on the edge of the river. She and her kids Timmy and Daria stayed at Centrul Crestin Onisim for three months. Natasha and her kids had not been back to this guest house since they moved out two years ago, and it was Natasha's dream to rent the place out and bring her young students here to "camp" at the guest house and enjoy a Saturday and Sunday together on the unique property. On Friday evening we were a caravan of seven adults, two kids, and four teenagers before the rest of the crew showed up Saturday morning. Natasha had summoned Scott's help Friday night with the dinner for the 13 of us, but of course he ended up cooking for the kids all weekend. 😊

Our time in the mountains at a little resort with lots of space for unplugging and enjoying nature was much needed. It reminded us of what we have waiting for us when we return to North Carolina. The kids were excited to be there, and Natasha & Tetiana (the child psychologist for Ukraine House) had events planned for the kids all weekend. Of course I could not do much to help with rallying the kids or delivering any kind of activity instruction since I don't speak Ukrainian or Russian, but Natasha insisted she was glad we came. I made myself useful by using my mama skills keeping the kitchen clean and picking up after meals and activities. As we explored the property that first evening, I commented on how beautiful all the painted benches and playground structures were, all of them adorned in colorful painted flowers. Natasha confessed, "I did this. I paint this." I asked her, "All of this? You painted everything?" She nodded and smiled. She said, "The mountains are beautiful and I need to make this beautiful." Tetiana helped me understand this painting was therapy for Natasha. She had to flee her home with her children, not knowing what the future might hold, but in that moment two years ago, she found herself in beautiful surroundings and saw painting as a way to be creative and add beauty to the property. It was also her way of showing gratitude for the owner of the guest house for providing her family a safe place to live.

On more than one occasion, different folks shared with me how hard it was for Natasha when she first arrived in Romania. She only speaks Ukrainian and Russian, and though she learned English in school, she never really had to use it, least of all speak it. The language barrier was a large one for Natasha, and she has been taking Romanian and English classes since arriving in Cluj. We first met Natasha at a Christmas concert rehearsal, before we knew she had a husband and kids, before we knew that she had won a major singing competition in Ukraine, before we knew she was teaching the youngest refugees at the Ukraine House. Natasha's personality is BIG. She has since opened up to us, and her husband Sasha, as well as her colleagues Tetiana and Kseniia, have commented on how proud they are of her for using her English with us as much as she has. When she apologizes for her English skills, we always say, "Your English is much better than our Ukrainian!" and we reassure her that she is perfect. And she is.

Centrul Crestin Onisim Cluj, Baisoara, Romania, ©️Elizabeth Bellows

EthniCity and Cluj Days

We were invited to come by and check out the Ukraine table at the annual Cluj Days, specifically at the EthniCity event on May 31, and of course Natasha was there to greet us with flowers in her hair. She stayed up all night making traditional deruny, Ukrainian potato cakes with onion, and some with sausage as well. Natasha made us deruny when we went camping with the kids, so we were delighted to try them again. Kseniia was there with flowers in her hair, and so were our other Ukrainian friends, as the Ukraine House kids were performing on stage! It was so fun to see everyone enjoying the sunshine after a rainy evening the day before, and sharing in celebrations of diversity. There were different booths representing multiple countries, showcasing crafts, food, dance, and other cultural artifacts. There was a large turnout for the EthniCity events, and we enjoyed ourselves so much that we didn't get many photos! It was truly a citywide celebration!

Cluj Days--EthiCity 2024, ©️Elizabeth Bellows

Final Fulbright Meeting in Brasov, the Bear Sanctuary, and the Migration Center

Our last little overnight trip took us to Brasov for the final Fulbright meeting. It was such a bittersweet time, each of us sharing the lessons learned through our Fulbright experiences, progress on our teaching and/or research journeys, and how we are feeling about returning to the U.S. Let's just say there were some tears. You can read the commission's description of our final meeting here. The next day our lovely Fulbright Commission took us by bus to the Libearty Bear Sanctuary in Zarnesti where we learned about the efforts of the folks that work tirelessly to provide a safe and natural home for bears who have been mistreated by circuses, and other human-caused tragedies. Sounds silly, but we weren't expecting to see too many bears! We were lucky to be there during feeding time, so the bears were everywhere! Our guide knew every bear's story, and told the stories with love and concern in her voice. The passion for the sanctuary's work shone through our guide.

After visiting the bears, we traveled back into the city to visit Brasov's Migration Center. Here one of our fellow Fulbrighters was working with folks who created an English speaking club, and she invited us all to their last meeting. Our job was to pair up with a student whose first language was not English and have a conversation! Our family was paired with Jonathan, a Hungarian kid Claire's age who was actually from Zarnesti, where we were earlier that morning. What a serendipitous meeting with Jonathan! We talked about bouldering, ice climbing, hiking, and enjoying the outdoors. Turns out Jonathan had never been to this English-speaking club before, but his Ukrainian friend who attends every Thursday afternoon had invited him to the final meeting, so he was happy to sit down with some American strangers and talk to us! I shared some information with Jonathan about visiting the U.S. since he was interested in studying abroad, and we promised to keep in touch!

On our way home from Brasov, we stopped at an old fortress we had seen from the highway a few times this past year, and decided to stop and take a look at Cetatea Rupea. This fortress was built in the 14th century and was rebuilt and restored over the following five centuries. Originally built by Transylvanian Saxons in the Kingdom of Hungary, it was first mentioned in a document from 1324. I'm so glad we stopped to check it out:

Rupea, Brasov, Zarnesti, Romania, 2024 ©️Elizabeth Bellows

Academic Year in America: Welcoming Oleksandra 🎉 🇺🇦

After the new year, I started thinking about what will be important this year. Last year, my word for 2023 was MOVE--and move I did! This year I thought for a bit and kept coming back to the word "present." Being here. In the moment. I also see being present as a way to take a step back, rest, and not say yes to everything. I want my decisions to be thought out and intentional. I want to be present. I decided to apply to be a local coordinator for a fantastic organization called Academic Year in America, helping place international students in American homes for them to attend high school for an academic year. Instead of making placements in other homes though, we ended up deciding to host a student from Ukraine. When we searched for possible students from Ukraine, there was ONE young lady, about Claire's age, and we knew she was meant for us and our family! It took a few months, but we finally got word from Watauga High School that they will accept our new family member and she can enroll in July! We are expecting to be back in our home in North Carolina August 1, and Oleksandra arrives August 23, so it will be a rush to get moved back in and get her bedroom ready, but we can't wait to welcome her. I'm hoping once we have Oleksandra for the year, WHS will be happy to host more students from AYA in the future, and some lucky families in Watauga County will be able to host international students!

Solidifying our Family Story

Before Romania, we had our own way of life back home, Claire visiting her mom every other week, Scott building an impossible house, Max obsessed with the universe, and me saying yes to everything at work (and a mental health spiral, tbh). Our family story took a big turn this past year, and we have been living in close quarters in this Romanian apartment instead of cohabitating all spread out in our spacious house in North Carolina. Claire is with us all the time, and Max doesn't have a driveway to draw on with chunky chalk. We have had to change our habits and get used to a million new things, and these kids have been TROOPERS, let me tell you. Especially Claire. We had to get pretty tight really quickly, and we are all better for it. Here, we are the Americans researching Ukrainians in Romania. We have a different family identity here. We are a tight group of four, and our dynamic is a fun one! When I think about how this experience has affected me as an academic and as a researcher, it is impossible to separate these roles from my role in the family as wife, partner, mom, stepmom, and household manager. There were four of us on this journey, and we each had our ups and downs. We have had to adapt and figure out who we are as a family outside of the comforts of our town, our home, our mountains, our schools, our communities of neighbors and friends. Blended families aren't always sunshine and roses, but my how we've soaked in the warmth of the sun and the smell of these roses--thorns and all.

Brasov, Romania, June 2024, ©️Meghan Absher

Hard Histories

In 2014 I was a Warren Faculty Fellow at Holocaust Museum Houston. For seven days we learned from experts about the Shoah, and we were told on the first day that if things get heavy, if the history we were learning was too much to bear, that we could feel free to excuse ourselves and step into the hallway or the bathroom. I surprised myself on day three when I was simply overcome by another tragic story. It felt like a panic attack, the images of concentration camp victims flashing through my mind, the desperate feeling of loss that is out of your control. The loss of one's freedom. The stripping of human dignity. The heartache. The starvation. Tough as it is, these are the feelings that evoke true historical empathy, to intimately learn what someone else went through; listening to a story and doing your best to understand the feelings each person felt as tragedies unfolded right in front of them.

In the elementary social studies field there is debate around whether young kids should be learning about the atrocities of our ancestors, the worst sides of our humanity. Deborah Ellis (as cited in Gangi, 2014), said if children are tough enough to be bombed and starved, then they are also tough enough to read about it. I agreed with this 100% before I had children of my own, but now, with my kids and I living in another part of the world and witnessing the displacement of people due to their homes being bombed, I wonder if it is too much. I am not sure that the human brain and the human spirit were made to know about everything that has happened in our short time on this planet, or even everything that is currently unfolding in and across our world. We know that kids today have more anxiety and depression than ever before, and I wonder if learning tough history contributes to this? But I do want my kids to know what human beings are capable of, the best and the worst, in order to help them assess character, and to move about in the world with empathy for others. I understand the gravity of this--I understand that hearing someone's story can break your heart, and we have to be mindful to tell stories of resistance and survival as well, so that the heart can heal itself, even if scars are left behind.

As we have made friends here from Ukraine, we have looked up their hometowns online, and we have seen a lot of images of blown up buildings and destruction. Claire feels the heaviness of this, and has matured so much this year, knowing that the friends we have made have been displaced from their homes, have had to move without knowing when they may return, if ever, to their cities and ways of life. She appreciates that our time abroad was limited, that we will be able to comfortably settle back into our home in a matter of time.

We see our Ukrainian friends in Cluj making the most of this city, of these people, and of these community events. Social media has allowed folks to communicate, find each other, and make plans to gather together. Our friends show us that wherever you find yourself, is where you make your home. Home is not a house or a building or even a town. Home is where you are with the people you love and the people who love you. Home is where you can find something to eat, someone to talk to, where you can sleep and rest and struggle. Home can be revived wherever you might find yourself, and creating a home takes hard work, especially in a new place, with different languages and customs. These are difficult lessons to learn at fourteen and eight years old, and though they have sustained some hits, our kids have beautifully reached the other side of this journey, and it has changed them. They are strong, they are resilient, they are empathetic. They are home.

While We Ache to Come Home

In July of 2023 I played a song on repeat while I was preparing to leave the U.S. for eleven months, scurrying around my house, open suitcases on the floor of every room, feeling the homesickness well up in me over the course of that month. I let my brief 30-day stay in Romania twelve years prior guide my thoughts about what to expect. Coutryside. Churches. Mountains. Trains. I saw these memories as flashing images, like you would see looking out the window on a road trip or on a train. While listening to Amsterdam (my favorite version was recorded by Watchhouse), I was feeling the inevitability of homesickness to come. And now, ending our journey that once seemed so long and arduous, is wrapping up sweetly, and with another culminating feeling of longing and pull. Not for my home, friends, and family in the United States, but for my home, friends, and family here in Romania. Community building takes such time and energy, and all the while you are not thinking about your eventual departure, you are just thinking about your friends. You are attending the things and having the conversations and enjoying the food and drinks; you are present. Then, bam! It's time to go.

We had our last meal with Kseniia and Natasha Friday night, as Kseniia was taking a long journey back to Ukraine on Saturday. On the chilly terrace, Natasha gifted us some liquor and a chess set to keep us playing together, and after dinner we walked her to the bus stop and hugged goodbye. Kseniia walked with us to our apartment, then outside of the Shop & Go, we said goodbye. We hugged tightly and neither of us wanted to let go first. We have promised our friends we will return this year, right after Christmas, and we'll stay through the New Year. I know we can make it happen.

churches and trains

while they all look the same to me now

they shoot you someplace

while we ache to come home somehow

~from Amsterdam, by Gregory Alan Isakov

See you later, Natasha, Kseniia, Elizabeth, Scott, June 2024, ©️Claire Nix

The Transitioning Motherscholar

I have grown accustomed to the beat of my European washing machine, reminding me of the ways my breast pump used to "talk" to me eight short years ago (if you know, you know). The new sounds of my daily mom-work are about to drastically change. And who can complain when you are headed to a family farm house with a pool and your bestest friend coming for a visit as soon as I return? Not me. I'm anxious to get to the farm for some R&R. One form of this is Rest and Relaxation which I plan to allow myself to do when I get to Georgia. My best friend is coming the first week of July to hang out with me at my mother in-law's house while Scott gets back to work. Currently though, I'm still in Cluj working on another R&R--a Revise and Resubmit for an article I submitted a few months ago. I really want to get it to the publisher before we leave next Saturday.

A revelatory lesson I will take back with me to the U.S. is one of priorities. Maybe I just had too much work on my plate, maybe (probably) I was bad at time management, but I never really understood how people could balance their domestic tasks with their work tasks, and with the onset of the pandemic working from home, I spiraled pretty deeply. Here in Romania, not having to teach, not having to attend department meetings, giving deep focus to my research, allowed me to navigate this and reassess my life-work balance. It was like I was able to clear my plate into the trash, give it a good wash, and wipe it dry. I packed the empty plate and brought it to Romania, pulling it out of my suitcase and giving it a deep gaze. What will I put on this plate? I started with the mundane. The unpacking, the organizing, the dishes, the laundry, the sweeping. I figured out that the domestic part is the important part. It goes first. The work is NOT the main dish. The work can be added as needed, ordered a la carte, but the main staples are the items that provide domestic tranquility. The fruits and vegetables: the tidiness, making lunches, having clean bodies and clean clothes, are what keep us healthy in mind and body. Work should be consumed in moderation. When your plate allows. When you have room for it.

Another part of my daily habits that will continue include walking and yoga, of course. I have noticed such a difference in my strength, weight, and general health. What I love about walking and yoga is that they are always available, and they are easy to do! I will take these healthy habits with me forever. I am grateful beyond words for this experience of growth and challenge, of ease and peace, of resetting and restarting. I am grateful to return to my home country with new perspective until the road takes us to our next home.

What I will miss in Romania

Stepping out onto the rooftop and soaking in the vast view that captures the city and the surrounding mountains

Celebrations and fireworks on the rooftop

Walking with purpose

The cost of things

Not having a car

All the food (especially the pizza, sweets, and bread)

Yoga in my living room

The lovely friends and the events we enjoyed together

The gigantic shower

Spending so much time with my husband and kids

Walking and talking with Max to and from school for an hour every school day

Watching Claire soak in the world, explore her identity, and question the world around her

What will bring me joy in the U.S.

Stepping out onto my back porch and soaking in the soft mountain view

Celebrations with friends on our driveway

Music in the Valle

Walking around the beautiful Bass Lake and watching the baby geese grow

The autonomy a car brings me

Communicating easily with others in my native language

Walking out of my house and putting my bare feet on the earth

Yoga in my living room

Teaching

Lunch and conversation with friends

Walking App State's campus

My bed

Price Lake and campsite 25

Picking up Max from after school at Blowing Rock Park

Watching Claire light up when she sees her friends

Hosting a Oleksandra in the fall!

---