Romania - And You Said What??

So, if you haven't read the first post - 'Romania-The Trip' I recommend you do that before you read this.

As everyone...er, most everyone knows, going out of country is strange. Really, strange. It's something you want to prepare for, to lay plans for.
I was definitely not prepared - enough - for this trip.
I literally finished school and went. Bing bang boom. I had just enough time to do a little research on the culture, manners, and language before I was rushed off to Romania. And as anyone who's been out of country before knows, that isn't good.

Despite that, however, the trip went well. Language is, of course, the biggest barrier - fortunately for me, my grandparents acted as translators. And most people spoke at least a few words of English; enough to get their point across. On top of that, I know Spanish fairly well, and since most Romanian words are similar to both English and/or Spanish words, I was able to get the gist of conversations after a few days.

So here's some big (or what I found significant) differences between America and Romania.

Driving
Not a big surprise, but well worth mentioning. The driving is very different between the USA and Romania For instance, there are a lot less strict rules in Romania than in the US, yet Romania has a lower crash rate. Hmm. Says something about their standards, eh?
Speed limit in Romania has no meaning. Well...when I say no meaning, I mean very little. If you're driving like a NASCAR racer then yeah, the police might get on your tail. But it's no big deal. One guy zoomed past us on our way to the airport like he was late for something. I literally felt the shockwave from his passage. That's the sort of speeding I'm talking about.
Also, their passing skills are either crazy stupid or superhuman. At least 60 percent of the time, you're passing people. We'd pull out from behind a truck and see a car fast approaching, beams of death shooting towards us like the fires of hell and then - oh, wait, you mean we made it? Phew! I thought we were dead for certain!

Food
Also not a big shocker, but I gotta put this in. In Romania, you see, it is considered polite to refuse more food. You have to insist that you are done in order to leave the table. But when me and my older brother stayed in Dej, we were figuratively grabbed by the hair and force-fed down the throat. EAT! EAT! EAT! EAT! You not hungry? You want to go to bed? Thank you for being polite! Now EAT! EAT! EAT! I nearly exploded! Serious stuff, you know? I almost had to physically restrain them from serving me...seriously...well, at least you're ensured against starvation.

Toilets/Bathrooms
I know this may sound weird, but hey - when nature calls, you must answer. And it's a vital part of going to a different country. And it was...different, to be sure.
You know our standard-sized toilet stall in any American store or restaurant? Well, Romanians can fit a whole bathroom in a space just about as large. Toilet, sink, and shower. No joke. It's tight, I can tell you. Also, while I find it as a curiosity...on the way back home, we stopped for a bathroom break in the airport. As I exited the sacred hall of duty, I noticed a cleaning lady following me.
A cleaning lady. A cleaning lady. In the mens' bathroom. With other guys doin' their thing around and...yeah, let's leave it at that.

A few random points/stories now.
Me, my brother, and my grandpa went to Vima Mica, my grandpa's birthplace. No sweat. Cool place. But, er...see, the old Romanian folks greet you with kisses on either cheek. While some merely touch, others...actually follow through. One guy in particular was expecially...um...enthusiastic? About it. Let's just say we were both washing our faces very thoroughly after Vima Mica.

In the previous post about our trip, I mentioned we went to a hotel. At said hotel, there was a spa. And where there's a spa, there's people. Skimpily dressed people. And this is Europe. They're basically wearing their undies to the pool.
Now, I can handle that...sort of. But the thing was, most all of the people were middle-aged or older. You ever seen a seventy-year-old man in his underwear swimtrunks? Not a pretty sight. Even less attractive were the seventy-year-old women wearing two-piece swimsuits. Want my opinion on that? It's EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

I may add more as stuff comes to mind, but for now, that'll be it. Hope you enjoyed this little story, and as they say in Romania - La Revedere!