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As we attempted to ascertain our whereabouts our all-night bus driver started chatting us up, asking if this is our first visit, where we were staying, what tourist adventures, etc.? He seemed to me to be a very friendly and anxious man because he kept warning us to be safe and beware the dangers of the city: "gypsies and thieves abound!" His friend was picking him up and they were driving our way, so he offered to give us a lift in exchange for a few meager Euro - or the equivalent in Romanian leu after a quick ATM stop. The whole situation happened so fast, both men talking us up, asking about 9/11 and corruption in the US, telling us their stories of a dystopian Romania, hyper inflation and the fear they shared for their children. The driver warned me not to take my phone out, even in his car because the gypsies are likely to follow us on a moped and rob us at a red light! I thought his fearfulness was extreme, but decided to hide my phone to appease him.
The ATM stop was rushed, Nate hopped out and the driver followed ("for protection") and pushed Nate to select a fast-cash method. Minutes later we all arrived on our boulevard and the driver handed us our bags. He suggested we give his friend a 500 leu bill - "It's about 8 euro, not too bad." and asked for a mere 100 leu for himself, "as a thank you" for his help.
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And yet the odd thing is that my melancholic brooding evolved to focus less and less on the dollars lost and more on the fear I gained from the experience - for I was newly afraid that I could not trust people. You see I'm usually the glass-half-full type, I give people second chances (and third and fourth), and I want to believe the best of most situations. And despite my decided naiveté I haven't really suffered too horribly for my perspective to date, people seem to be generally alright. In fact, our entire mode of travelling and volunteering is reliant upon a great deal of trust, for how else could we agree to get off local buses in random towns around the world and move in with complete strangers?! And yet this one decision to trust two random men from the bus company to take us across town really shook my faith - why would they do this to us?! I found myself torn between the apparent safety of distrust, hopeful of protecting myself from future abuse by giving up hope in people, and the vulnerable beauty of trust. And even though this opposition is not truly so black-and-white (I am in fact quite optimistic and cautious about most things), I found myself forced upon a choice: I must choose to trust or to not trust and this choice will impact every tiny decision I make.
After hours of obsessive pondering I realized that the path of distrust and fear: of hiding in my home and not taking risks, is far more terrifying than the possibility of losing hundreds of dollars to two random men who find me an easy target. And so, I decided to take a chance, leave our new apartment and go see Bucharest.
Roaming Bucharest's Streets
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Casa Poporului, the World's largest Parliament Building
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