Yesterday, I attended my first "house christening". My host aunt and uncle hosted the house christening, the priest came over, it was quite the ordeal. My host mom and I walked over in the morning, it was a more eventful walk than we had anticipated. Just before we reached the house a huge cow was standing on our path. Host mom had to scream at it for awhile, shouting "we have someplace to be"--"move, we will miss the meal"-- "cow, we have to get past", after she nudged it with a stick and it finally budged enough for us to scoot past. When we arrived at the house everyone was buzzing about making finishing touches to the food, cleaning up and preparing for the arrival of the rest of the guests.
There was a spread on a small table in the garden where most of the ceremony took place. I was most interested in the coulac, a large round braided loaf of bread, it was very pretty and acted as a center piece for the table. Bowls of rice, sugar, and salt were also presented on the table along with a pail of water, a book, flowers and a box of chocolates. I assume each of these represent some part of life. Blessing each one, the priest did his duties, muttering in Romanian while I listened intently. I asked before the ceremony started if I could take pictures, the priest said 'of course', I saw this is a green light, mid-way through the ceremony I could feel him getting annoyed, I stopped taking pictures at that point.
Immediately following the ceremony we ate. No we didn't eat, we feasted. There was a large table set up in the 'entertaining room' of the house where we sat. The table wasn't big enough for everyone who was there so I planned to hide in an extra room while the important people attending the celebration could eat. I didn't get the chance to hide, host aunt grabbed me and seated me up towards the end of the table with the priest and the grandparents. I felt uncomfortable, but lets face it, this isn't the first or last time I will be put in a similar position. I began to graze on the HUGE spread. Meats, breads, salads, an assortment of unknown foods, it was quite the meal. Just when I was getting full on chicken topped with..something. They brought in an entirely new course. Wait, but I was full. That didn't matter, my favorite part was when I looked over at the priest, he was staring at me and said one word "mânca" (eat). I smiled and proceeded to shovel yet another spoon full of food onto my plate. After about two hours of eating and drinking the priest rose from his chair at the head of the table, this was the cue to the rest of table that the meal was over, we stood, he prayed, meal finished. So, now that the priest had left the rest of the family who hadn't fit at the table earlier could take their place at the table. They ushered me to a seat, I explained that I had just eaten, they didn't care I was to at least continue drinking. There I sat for another hour sipping wine and feeling utterly confused as I tried to follow the bunches of different conversations happening all around me.
At some point I recognized a window of opportunity and excused myself from the table. I knew that nature was calling, and being out of commission in my own house sounded a thousand times more comfortable than at a home currently hosting a celebration. I thanked the extraordinarily gracious hosts and trotted home, waving to the cow who was still grazing in the path. It was a good day, I felt apart of my host family. These small victories are all I am after at the moment, I found one yesterday, it felt good.
Peace
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