Tarnita and the friendly bees

How to put the experiences of the last five days spent in Moldova into words. Perhaps a story or two over the next few posts will suffice.

During my stay in Vrancea, we climbed the highest hill in the region, Magura - such breath-taking views, such colours, such richness - and on the way back fell upon a monastery hidden away on a dirt track that one could never have spotted from a main road. Tarnita is run by nuns and one of the most peaceful, inspiring places I have ever set foot in. Out of the car we got to investigate. Anyone still asking me why I love Romania needs to go to Tarnita to feel what I did, and to understand why I could never turn my back on this country however repugnant the politics may be.

The convent is built on a former monastery dating from the 18th century and designed in the old tradition. In 1950, it was transformed into a convent. Founded in 2007, the newer church in stone is finished structurally but remains empty inside, unpainted, and home to bags of cement, vegetables, seeds for sowing and grain for the very plentiful chickens for now.

Imagine five white stone houses of Vrancean tradition set in an 'L' shape each with one floor, a charming wooden porch painted blue or grey covered in a myriad of flowers, sleepy windows, wooden rooves and doors and then gardens, gardens, gardens - roses, marigolds, lavender, fruit and vegetables, lobelia, salvia, fox gloves...

A radiant nun in the new church came out to meet us. They were all extremely busy (some of them so old I was surprised they could even move!) cleaning in preparation for today's feast of Sfanta Maria. She showed us all over the complex, described the history and then, as we were about to leave, invited us to lunch.

A long table in front of the nuns' pretty houses (very long indeed, I guess, to fit the whole community) was magically laid: plates and glasses appeared, a basket of thinly sliced mamaliga, ardei umpluti (vegetarian for post) and their own marvellous wine.

"Please eat!" invited the nun having said the Lord's Prayer and blessed the food with Grace. I was terribly touched. She had spent time showing us all over the convent, explained how it had come to be, taken us to the older wooden church and written a list of names we offered for memorial and prayer - and now this, as if we hadn't taken enough of her time already. She didn't seem to mind one bit. She sat with us as we ate, chatting about the other nuns, life in the convent, work that still needed to be done.

All of a sudden, a bee landed on my arm. It was a very svelt, slim bee and I mistook it for a wasp. I am allergic to wasp stings and thus don't like them one bit. I shooed it away. "Don't be afraid," said the nun, "he won't sting you. All our bees are friendly."

Friendly bees? I had fallen into Wonderland.

She held out her hand and three bees landed on her palm. With her little finger, she stroked one. The other two flew away whilst the lucky bee sat and allowed himself to be stroked.

The beautiful surroundings, the unexpected kindness, the even more unexpected lunch and now friendly albine was all too much for me. Cue mega lump in throat. While those idiot politicians destroy all they can to line their pockets and knock ten bells out of each other and the additional mitocani steal, fleece, lie and ride rough-shod over a population, there are still enchanting places in this dear, blessed country where people are good to each other - and even kind to bees.

The nun must have seen my tears although I tried to hide them, for she touched my arm, nodded and smiled. I guess I can't have been the first to have been so moved by simple acts of kindness.

On my arm, two bees landed. I did as the nun had done and stroked one with my little finger. He sat there very happily enjoying the attention. I think, had he been able, he would have purred.

Although I was with four dear friends that day sat around the simple table nibbling mamaliga with stuffed peppers and sipping home-made wine, I completely forgot they were there. I was alone with my thoughts and my albina prietenoasa, under a spell of absolute peace and tranquility. When the time came to leave, I felt the jolt. How hard to transform this lovely, inspiring place up in the hills from reality into a memory. My friendly bee stayed on my arm all the way to the gate, but when I took a step out into the world, he flew away with a buzz that seemed to say, "I'm staying here. Look how lucky I am." I felt quite bereft!

In the car, we sat in silence for a long while, none of us keen to let go of the magic.

And people still ask me why I love Romania....

 Photos: Sarah In Romania

Comments

[PeterFay]

An excellent description.

I feel the same as you about the pleasance and friendliness I receive when I visit Romania.

A beautiful country filled with beautiful people.

[sairj]

My dear Ducu and Gabi,



How lovely to read you! I hope you are both fine and the menagerie too.



I love it because of good people like you both, C&D, because of experiences like we had at Tarnita, for example, and because it is, indeed, a beautiful country. And the poetry is sublime :D True, the Sf Teodora moment was a very unpleasant one, but it is outweighed by the lovely things that make my heart sing.



Warmly,

Sarah

[ducu]

Hi Sarah,

Can I ask you again: "why you love Romania?..."

(after you know the story of Sf Teodora).

I`m bad, isnt no?

I`m so sorry about this sad experience.

We,(romanian people) must stay in silence for a long time,about this episode.

Best regards,

Ducu si Gabi

[aurab]

It is so amassing how every time you come I discover more things to love about my country and its unknown beauty..... trough your eyes.....

And with gratitude I say :

"Thank you!"

[Mari Popescu]

Thank you Sarah, you touch my hart with this story. I was often in such monasteries. Life is very hard for people there but for us, the visitors is magical, like you said. What fascinated me particularly is the great attention to detail and impeccable cleanliness. And lots of flowers..."true kaleidoscope" indeed.....