Mukallita si florile Ioanei

No, o facuram si p-asta! Fusei si la atelierul de tehnica florala organizat de Ioana pentru us, ladies, aseara, 23 august 2013, cat si la cel pentru pitici, organizat azi in 24. Cum, care Ioana? Ioana Mihai Nechifor de la City Flowers, sigur o stiti. Da, fata aia care ca si noi a dat Londra pe Sibiu, care se implica in actiuni caritabile (asa am si cunoscut-o in 2011), care e si mama si sotie si designer florist si sora de frate la fel de talentat, all-in-one.

De ce scriu azi despre ea? Stati linistiti ca nu e pentru vreun concurs sau ca ma sponsorizeaza City Flowers. In afara de 6 doze de bere primite cadou de la Heineken pentru participarea la campania aia a lor cu Space Training, in rest nu am primit nimic material legat de blogul meu.

Ei bine, pe langa mucaleala sunt si carcotasa si eternul nemultumit de cand am venit in Sibiu. Dupa 5 ani jumate petrecuti in Uca dintre care 3 jumate in Londra, am avut niste probleme grave de adaptare privind Sibiul de sus...de la etajul 7 al blocului comunist din Vasile Aaron in care traiesc. Mai ales pe partea de servicii si relatii cu clientii, iar apoi pe partea de penurie activitati cu si pentru copii, la care sa mearga si parintii.

Eu una nu am reusit sa aduc “serviciile” in Sibiu, pentru ca tot pentru Uca le ofer, dar Ioana a facut-o. Si cu mare succes. Si ma gandesc ca daca o dam ca exemplu, poate se mai simt si altii, si din alte domenii, si o da Dumnezeu sa se schimbe ceva in bine si pe-aici.

De cand i-am vazut buchetele pe scena spectacolului organizat de fratele sau Radu, mi-am dat seama ca fata asta si-a schimbat stilul si chiar a invatat multe lucruri noi in Londra. Si, satula fiind de florile in celofan, am inceput incet incet sa apelez la ea pentru diverse buchete de flori care va rog sa ma credeti au adus multe surprize placute si bucurie destinatarilor:

• Buchetul pt nasa noastra nascuta pe 4 iulie;

• Buchetul pentru o prietena nascuta tot in iulie;

• Buchetul pentru Mira, hair stylist la Maioko in Mall;

• Buchetul pentru o proaspat mamica si fetita ei nascuta in august.

Si uite asa, cu fiecare buchet, mi s-a conturat imaginea unui serviciu exceptional pe care l-am denumit, asa ca sa-l inteleg si sa-l pot descrie mai bine, “Supriza”. Ce e asa special la el? Felul in care se da fata asta peste cap sa multumeasca pe toata lumea (m-a ajutat cu acest serviciu inclusiv pentru sora mea din Bucuresti!). Cum la mine totul este despre procese ca sa inteleg cum functioneaza ceva, va descriu mai jos spiel-ul:

In principiu, cum am experimentat eu acest serviciu a fost asa: clientul suna la City Flowers=>clientul descrie persoana care va primi buchetul ca Ioana sa il poata personaliza=> plata (preturi exceptionale pt un designer florist) se efectueaza fie prin virament bancar, fie personal cash sau pentru clientii fideli se creeaza un cont unde CF noteaza toate comenzile si se pot face plati periodic=> buchetul este realizat in design unic adaptat fiecarui destinatar=>buchetul este livrat in aqua pack de catre sotul Ioanei sau chiar de Ioana direct la usa destinatarului=>acolo unde se cere si este posibil si agreat o poza este realizata in momentul primirii buchetului pt a surprinde SURPRIZA destinatarului! (dupa cum vedeti Minnie Mouse este foarte placut surprinsa).

Daca asta nu e oferta-calitate-pret-sevicii-clienti, nu stiu ce mai e!

In plus, pasionata fiind de florile ei, Ioana le ofera si celor dornici sa faca ceva diferit, o frantura din viata ei de zi cu zi. Cum stiti ca sunt mereu bulversata ca lucrez doar cu capul, cu excel-uri si cu bani si ca nu fac nimic creativ, m-am dus si la atelierele de tehnica florala ale Ioanei. Asta dupa ce am facut barcute din lut cu fie-mea la Magic Time, dar asta e o alta poveste...

Si ne-a invatat sa lucram un buchet in spirala. Nu se teme sa vanda din secretele profesiei sale, asa ca este un profesor foarte bun, drept pentru care toate buchetele in spirala realizate de ucenici au stat echilibrate in picioare!

[caption id="attachment_158" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Bine ati venit![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_156" align="aligncenter" width="300"] acum la munca! va doare cumva mana?[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_157" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Felicitari, ucenicelor, toate buchetele in spirala stau echilibrat![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_155" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Promotia 23 august 2013, Magna cum laude[/caption]

Iar cireasa de pe tort pentru mine a fost sa pot participa cu fetita mea de 2 ani, cu care nu petrec destul timp zilnic, la un atelier pentru copii, de creat cosulete cu flori pe burete ud. Din nou, mai incantata am fost eu de ce ne invata Ioana, dar cum fata asta are si ea copil, a stiut sa tina niste dulciuri pe aproape ca sa nu se plictiseasca piticii. Drept pentru care dupa ce a indesat florile in burete, fie-mea si-a indesat doua mini-gogosi in gura.

Concluzia-iile? Cu rabdare, efort, mult bun simt, respect si atentie orientata spre oameni in primul rand, Ioana aduce un suflu nou in Sibiu, este un exemplu despre cum ar trebui sa fie serviciile si pe aici, iar eu ii multumesc! Voi apela in continuare la serviciile ei de fiecare data cand voi avea ocazia si o recomand cu mult drag, chiar cred in pasiunea ei.

Later Edit - campania Heineken The Voyage

Ok, statui eu stramb si judecai drept (gravitand in fata laptopului de munca) si ma hotarai sa particip totusi si la concursul Heineken. Da, ala cu The Voyage, cu premiul cel mare un Space Training colosha la NASA.

Stiu ca intial am zis ca nu, lasa, aici in prima postare pe tema http://mukallita.blogspot.ro/2013/07/the-voyage-sau-calatoria-cu-c-mare-de.html, ca ce sa fac eu cu un Space Training daca nu ma trimit apoi si pe Luna.

Dar nu se stie niciodata cum e cu norocul aluia care nu incearca, pana la urma am atuul cel mai mare, doar mi-a zis mamaie de la Bechet ca am mancat mult Turkish delight cand eram mica. Ar fi timpul ca Universul sa ma rasplateasca si sa-mi intoarca investitia in noroc, nu?

Cat de tare ar fi sa o sun pe mamaie Sab(r)ina de la NASA:

Io: "Alo, saru'mana, mamaie, io sunt. Te sun de la NASA, sunt la un Space Training".
Mamaie: "A? Ce-i aia maica? Speis trei ning?"
Io: "Ma pregatesc niste neni sa plec in Spatiu asa ca cosmonautii. Ca nenea Yuri ala de a avut cateaua aia Laika cum avea tanti Lenuta una, mai stii? Ma dau cu un scaun intr-o bila mamaie, si se invarte tare asa de imi zboara si falcile de pe fata in lateral."
Mamaie: "Si cat costa, maica?"
Io: "Nimic, am castigat un concurs."
Mamaie: "Si la ce-ti foloseste, maica?"
Io: "Nu stiu, da' e cool, ia iesi matale acolosha la poarta si zi-le vecinilor tatzi ca te sun de la NASA, din SUA, fac antrenament pentru plecat in Spatiu."
Mamaie: "Bine, fa, maica, le spui. Deci vii la Bechet sa ma vezi cu racheta, asa-i?"

THE END.

THE Voyage

Well people, I have decided to enter a competition. Not just any competition, but a real one, for bloggers. As a challenge. Just to see where this “new entry” blogger journey takes me.

It is a contest set up by a Romanian established blogger Cristian China a.k.a. Chinezu’ (who’s actually making money out of it after 6 years of blogging) inspired by Heineken’s campaign called “The Voyage, Legendary Travelers wanted.”

The stake of Heineken’s campaign? “A legendary, innovative, progressive journey” with a spe(a)cial price: a SPACE TRAINING (or Training for Space to be more exact). “The challenge set for bloggers aims to reach those on the look for once-in-a-lifetime, unique, extraordinary experiences.”

I thought it only referred to their other prize, namely to teach you how to find your way in this within reach environment. And given that I find looking at an A to Z driver’s map (or any other map for that reason) a challenge, I initially said to myself why not, count me in!

But to be honest the Heineken campaign sounds too ambitious for my adventurous (not) self. One of the requirements is “ bloggers to post on their blog and Facebook page at least one article on the most adventurous journey they have ever taken in the spirit of Dropped episodes” (where ordinary people are dropped in totally remote and unknown places and left to handle things by themselves, as per funniest episode so far http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6tMFQuON8).

Therefore, considering that neither have I eaten anything more adventurous apart from my personal diaper production (as a baby being brought up in the country side by grandparents who left me in my cot as had to work the land) nor have I set foot in my dreamed of Australia, I don’t feel I fit the profile.
Plus, the winner gets the NASA space training, but is not sent to the Moon afterwards, not even close to the edges of the Earth for that matter.

So I said to myself that I fit better with the “earthly” profile of Mr. CC with a catch as he is currently looking for a blogging partner. And he accepts that we write about “the importance of an initiating journey that one must do at least once in a lifetime. It may be geographical or spiritual, just let the world know why you think it’s a massive learning experience that in the end changes you for the better.”

And since in my case the spiritual journey went parallel with a geographical one, especially when I was solo, I must describe them together, right?

My first (not the only one, ok) “adventurous” journey ever was when I first emigrated, of course. From Slatina, Olt, Romania (my birthplace in the South) to Sibiu, Transylvania, Romania (200kms up North from where I was born). 19 years old I was. During those hard times Oltenians (as nicely referred to by the Seebee-ans=people of Sibiu) as we nicely call them when they don’t call us “leekonians” for eating too much leek when we don’t sell it to them at high prices) were only allowed to enter Sibiu with highly skilled immigrant visa and resident’s stamp on the passport. Now that I am profanely married to one of these guys, I have been granted full rights of citizenship!

Sad thing not having had any fun in highschool due to living with Mrs Elena Ceausescu (yes, the dictator’s wife) under the same roof. But, man, the vida loca I lived during my first two years of Uni (that long it took me to deal with my frustrations) totally made up for the lost time: one could only find me clubbing, bailando, billiards giocando, cigarettes and alcohol consumando, my exams fail-ando, you know, young and restless home get-aways.

[caption id="attachment_165" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Sibiu, 2002-ish. I had no care in the world, I was wearing Mickey Mouse T-shirts, flared jeans, wild red dye on my head, man, I was living the life![/caption]

Alongside with this, however, I was slowly learning to handle life myself. Mrs Ceausescu was no longer cleaning after me all the time with reasons such “you go learn, if not you will end up washing toilets in my school”. She was no longer cooking for me or leaving food on the table to be eaten at exact hours of the day. Managing things by myself I finally learned how to start depending on myself, too! This phase taught me to find resources to move forward within me, without immediately running to ask for help or living in a state of laziness knowing that someone else would have my back covered every time. Therefore new connexions started to interact in my brain, neurons from previously unexplored areas started to burn.

So I rolled my heart up in my sleeve and with an exulting positive energy within I emigrated to the UK at 24 years of age. On a visa again. Alone again. And I believe that the first two years of immigration in the U.K. (2004-2006) when I was alone made me grow stronger and become iron made a la Mrs Thatcher. As Anjelina Jolie’s clicheic tattoo wisely quotes: “what does not kill me, makes me stronger.”

[caption id="attachment_166" align="aligncenter" width="225"] London, 2004, With that very entrance ticket I visited the Houses of Parliament and I was ever so proud to be in the building whose pics of I had only seen in my English handbooks as I felt like having reinvented the wheel![/caption]

I survived my first plane flight (I being one of those people who close their eyes at take off, stick their nails in the seat handles, do praying crosses with their tongues in the mouth thinking “Dear God, what have these people invented!”, convinced that one enters a plane like the miners in a mine not knowing if they’d ever come out). I also survived home-sickness, too, (honest to God I cried my eyes out for 6 months every night because of the “dor” for home, yes, “dor” that unique Romanian word possibly originated from “durere”=pain to indicate one’s missing one/something ‘till it hurts). I survived bronchitis, asthma, the changing of 5 different U.K. families (I was an au-pair looking after children) for not having put up with being treated as some sort of inferior member of the society and even being thrown out in the street with all my earthly belongings with no money in my pocket or in the bank.

Ok, I may have not floated lost in a boat along the Thames somewhere, but I did hit the streets of London getting lost on purpose with no clear destination set in mind. And I attended English lessons taught by native English speaking teachers joining students from all over this big world. I got a feel of how it was like to boil in the “multicultural meting pot of London” and I then finally learned how to speak English fluently. And in order to find a job (to secure the “bear” necessities such as a roof over the top of my head and food on the table) I always adapted to the job market requirements and did many jobs to the best of my capacity, cleaning included. Yes, even in 8 bedroom, 5 bathroom, pool house, dog house, flea house, au-pair house houses.

I was now earning freedom and independence at the school of life. I bought my first rattletrap car ever and having had food and accommodation paid for there was lot of pocket money for me to spend on leisure and entertainment. I met and befriended people from all over the world. Some of them are friends for life even to this day even if they live to the other side of the world. I experienced living alongside different cultures with different food, different life styles.

With the travelling bug in me I then started seeing more of the world: either backpacking in Italy in 2005 (I irremediably fell in love with Italy and decided that between Rome, Venice, Pisa and Florence the latter will be in my heart the first) or boating in Thassos in 2007 or train-ing the “underwater” train to Paris in 2008 or car-ing in Zakynthos in 2010 as follows:

ITALY, 2005

 Thassos island, Greece, 2007

[caption id="attachment_175" align="aligncenter" width="300"] what did I tell you about the map? Especially the Greek language map. Yes, that language that made me miss the exit on the motorway while I was trying to read EXODOS on the marking[/caption]

Paris, 2008

[caption id="attachment_176" align="aligncenter" width="225"] train station in Paris looking at the same old map. To be honest I think I could indeed safely register for Heineken’s competition as I really am Dropped! Well, not as dropped as my mother in law who duly provided my father in law – lost in Bulgaria – with a map of Romanian Apuseni Mountains instead...[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_177" align="aligncenter" width="225"] La Tour Eiffel a trois cent metres, so I found it without the map![/caption]

Zakynthos, 2010

[caption id="attachment_181" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Blue Caves[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_182" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Navaggio Beach[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_183" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Navaggio beach, Heaven on Earth[/caption]

Some time, along the way, I got hold of Donald Neale Walsch’s book called “Conversations with God” and I started my spiritual journey, too. I was no longer FEAR-ful of burning down in Hell if I didn’t confess my sins to a priest or did 1,000 compulsory crosses with my hand during a service. And I remembered the peace felt when experiencing THE light at the end of the tunnel while floating to greener pastures when I got run over by a car in my 18’s year of age. And I started to believe again, but this time in myself as a part of something bigger and more powerful surrounding us.

There wasn’t just a journey that changed me. There were more leading to a bigger one: the life journey. Has it changed me for the better so far? I’d say yes. True, I can no longer find my roots, I lost my sense of belonging (since I emigrated back to UK in 2008 and emigrated back to Romania in 2011), but I feel stronger, more resourceful. Am I also independent? Checked. Does my daughter have a role model of stubborness legacy (or of sneaking the way through as Oltenians do as her father talks about her mother) from her mother? Oh, yes she does. The journey of becoming a mother and raising a “man-cub” has been the most challenging of all so far. I was forced to learn patience under “optimum” work environment as a child manager.

Meanwhile, I warmly recommend that you find the guts to step out of your comfort zone you might find yourselves in at the moment: if you are high school graduates and want to go to Uni, do so in a different city to the one where your parents live. Live your mum’s house or you risk turning into a selfish lazy pep like I was in high school. If you’re in your 30+’s and still live with your mummy get out of there or else no bloody person in the world will partner up with you any more as my mum strongly advocates. If you’re in doubt of whether you should leave the country or not, go for it! Nothing compares to testing your personal limits in order to become stronger, more experienced, more knowledgeable, more confident.

And to put a long story in a nutshell at last, considering that I still make some money go round from here to there for UK and I stare at some financial graphs every day, I’d say that as per below graph, physically travelling from point A to point B (by horse, train, car, plane) is of no matter at all unless the spiritual journey that develops alongside doesn’t lift one to a higher spiritual vibrations.
I therefore, look forward to seeing where la vida loca carries me moving forward. There, I said it all now.

Later edit: since this posting I have actually changed my mind and entered Heineken’s The Voyage competition with the Space Training as the first prize.

[caption id="attachment_184" align="alignnone" width="300"] Yellow line=geographical journeys, red line="sucky" journeys, green line=spiritual evolution Age axis hopes for "sucky" journeys to end once you're technically no longer restless[/caption]

THE Voyage sau Calatoria cu "C" mare de tot

Na, gut, Leute, ma hotarai sa particip si eu la un concurs. Nu din ala care rimeaza cu urs, ci unul pe bune, pentru bloggeri. Asa ca o provocare. Asa ca sa vad unde ma poarta si calatoria asta de initiat in ale blogger-elii.

Concurs organizat de Cristian China http://chinezu.eu/2013/07/15/caut-colegacoleg-de-blog-pentru-chinezu-eu/ inspirat de Campania Heineken “THE Voyage, Legendary Travelers wanted” https://iframe3-ro.heineken.com/resources/voyage.2013/pdf/Regulament_Calatori_Legendari_din_Social_Media.pdf.

Miza campaniei Heineken? “O calatorie legendara, inovatoare, progresista” cu premiu speshal (sic!): un SPACE TRAINING (mai corect un Training for Space ar fi fost, antrenament de pregatire pentru Spatiu). “Provocarea lansata bloggerilor ii vizeaza pe cei aflati in cautare de experiente unice, extraordinare, care se intampla o data in viata.”

Credeam ca de fapt, se refera doar la primul premiu si anume la a te invata sa te orientezi si sa te descurci in spatiu…l asta, mai apropiat. Iar cum mie inclusiv sa imi pui o harta din aia de masina de la A la Z in mana ca sa ma descurc cu ea pe pe strazile Bucurestiului mi se pare o provocare, initial am zis ca I’m in, count me in!

Dar mi se pare, sincer, prea ambitioasa pentru nivelul meu de aventuriera, pentru ca una dintre cerinte este: “sa posteze pe blogul si pe pagina de Facebook minim un articol despre cea mai aventuroasa calatorie pe care au realizat-o, facand o asociere cu […] episoadele “Dropped” (=Picat ..din spatiu as adauga eu)”. Iar cum eu in afara de productia personala din scutec (bebel crescut la tara fiind) nu am mancat nimic mai aventuros de fel, iar cum nu am ajuns nici macar in Australia cea visata, nu cred ca co(sic again!)respund cerintei. In plus, nu trimit castigatorul si pe Luna (sau macar mai aproape de ea), doar ii fac antrenament pentru Spatiu.

Asa ca zic io, ma potrivesc mai bine pe cerintele “pamantesti” ale domnului CC with a catch, care-si cauta coleg/a de blog, si anume “Scrie pe blogul tau despre importanta unei calatorii initiatice, pe care trebuie sa o faci cel putin o data in viata. Poate sa fie o calatorie geografica, una sufleteasca, una spirituala sau cum vreti voi sa fie. Doar sa inteleaga toata lumea ca este o calatorie in urma careia inveti enorm si care te ajuta, la final, sa te schimbi in bine.”

Iar cum in cazul meu o calatorie sufleteasca si spirituala nu a putut merge decat in paralel sau ca si consecinta a unei calatorii geografice, mai ales solo, trebuie sa le descriu impreuna, nu?

DEX defineste CALATORIA drept “Acțiunea de a călători; drum pe care îl face cineva într-un loc (mai depărtat)”. Desi disputata, o teorie presupune ca originea cuvantului vine de la “cale=>latină caballus=>vb. *caballare sau *caballitare (ca equitare) putea avea drept der. cuvântul călător "persoană care merge călare" și, mai târziu, "persoană care călătorește".

Cea mai “aventuroasa” prima (nu singura, da?) calatorie din viata mea ever a fost cand am emigrat prima data, desigur. La 19 ani. Din Slatina, Olt, la Sibiu, Sibiu. Cu trenul Sageata Albastra, nu cu calul. Pe vremea cand se intra doar cu examen de highly skilled immigrant si viza de flotant pe pasaport (acuma ca m-am maritatara cu un sibian, am primit cetatenie!). Trist ca nu avusesem viata de liceu traind in casa cu doamna Elena Ceausescu, dar ce vida loca am trait in primii 2 ani de faculta (ca atata mi-a luat sa imi consum refularile), tulai, Doamnie! Eram numai in clube, bailando, biliardo giucando, tigari si alcool consumando, la examene picando, d-astea de tineret scapat de acasa.

[caption id="attachment_165" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Prin Sibiu, 2002-ish? n-aveam nici o treaba, purtam tricouri cu Mickey Mouse, blugi evazati, ma vopsisem in cap rosu turbat, I was living the life, man!”[/caption]

Paralel cu asta invatam insa sa ma descurc singura. Sa nu imi mai faca doamna Ceausescu curatenie dupa mine tot timpul sub deviza pionieratului “tu invata, ca de nu, ajungi sa speli WC-ul la mine la scoala”, sa nu imi mai gateasca si sa-mi lase mancarea pe masa gata de a fi consumata la ore fixe, sa nu imi mai faca toate cumparaturile. Descurcandu-ma singura, am invatat in sfarsit sa mai depind si de mine. Am invatat sa descopar in mine resurse de a merge mai departe, fara sa mai fug sa cer subit ajutorul sau sa mai traiesc in lancezeala stiind ca ma scoate altcineva din rahat de fiecare data. Iar in creier au inceput atunci sa se faca noi conexiuni, sa se arda neuroni din zone neexplorate anterior.

Drept urmare, am prins curaj si, cu o energie pozitiva debordanta, la 24 de ani am emigrat in Uca. Tot cu viza. Tot singura. Si cred eu, primii 2 ani de emigrare in Uca (2004-2006), atunci cand am fost singura, m-au intarit si otelit asa a la doamna Thatcher. Vorba cliseica a tatuajului Anjelinei Jolie “ce nu ma omoara, ma face mai puternica.”

[caption id="attachment_166" align="aligncenter" width="225"] vara 2004: cu biletul ala am intrat eu sa vizitez Houses of Parliament si eram asa mandra ca am ajuns sa intru in cladirea ce numai in pozele din carti la scoala o vazusem, de parca inventasem coada la pruna![/caption]

Am supravietuit primului zbor cu avionul din viata mea (io sunt din aia de la decolare inchide ochii, isi infige unghiile in manerele de la scaun, face o mie de cruci cu limba in gura si zice “Doamne, maica, ce-au mai inventat si astia” si se gandeste ca intri in avion ca minerii in mina, fara sa stii daca mai iesi). Am supravietuit si dorului de casa (zau ca 6 luni am plans ca-n aia cu ia-ti mireasa ziua buna, de la tata, de la muma, de la frati, de la surori, de la …nu stiu ce cu flori), si bronsitei, si astmului, si schimbatului de 5 familii (eram au-pair, aveam grija de copiii englejilor) pe motiv ca nu am acceptat sa fiu tratata ca un membru inferior al societatii, si aruncatului in strada cu bagaje fara nici un ban in banca sau buzunar.

Ok, si poate nu am ramas cu barca in deriva in mijlocul Tamisei, dar am batut in deriva strazile Londrei in lung si-n lat (de-aia nu mai aveam nici un ban in buzunar sau banca). Si am fost la cursuri de engleza cu profesori nativi (si cu studenti din tata lumea asta mare, de am simtiti cum e sa fierbi in “the multicultural melting pot of London” (oala de con-topire multiculturala) de am invatat in sfarsit sa vorbesc fluent si cursiv. Si ca sa-mi gasesc job (pentru a-mi asigura de-alea esentiale: acoperis deasurpa capului si ce pune pe masa), m-am adaptat imediat la piata muncii si am facut de toate cum am putut mai bine. Inclusiv curatenie in case din alea cu 8 camere, 5 bai, casa piscinei, casa cainelui, casa au-pair-ului, casa puricelui etc.

Castigam acum la scoala vietii libertate, independenta, pace si cadentza. Mi-am cumparat prima rabla din viata mea, cu cazarea si mancarea asigurate aveam multi bani de buzunar de cheltuit, legam prietenii cu oameni de peste tot din lumea larga. Cu unii am ramas pretenara pe viata, chiar daca locuiesc la capatul celalalt al Pamantului. Experimentam culturi diferite, mancare diferita, un stil de viata asa “fridom and liberty” cum zice Bidi.

Si eram tot prin calatorii mai apoi, prinsesem gustul: ba cu rucsacul prin Italia in 2005, (m-am indragostit iremediabil de Italia, am decis atunci ca intre Roma, Venetia, Pisa, si Florenta, aceasta din urma va ramane in sufletul meu cea dintai), ba cu barca prin Thassos in 2007, ba cu trenul “subacvatic” la Paris in 2008, (cu aceleasi cruci cu limba sa ma duca Eurostarul la destinatie), ba cu masina prin Zakytnhos in 2010, trai neneaca dupe cum urmeaza:

• Italia 2005

[caption id="attachment_167" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Chiar ca non puoi aspettare! Ca sa calatoresc, desigur.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_169" align="aligncenter" width="225"] Mi-am luat de la gura pentru porumbei prin San Marco, Venetia[/caption]

• Thassos, 2007:

[caption id="attachment_170" align="aligncenter" width="300"] da, pe atunci eram blonda, plictisita de roscat, am fost candva si neagra a la Morticia Adams[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_172" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Cred ca intr-o viata anterioara am fost pisica (a nu se citi CAT WOMAN), pur si simplu le iubesc[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_173" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Mi-am rasfatat papilele gustative experimentand chestii noi[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_174" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Thassos e de vis. Punct.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_175" align="aligncenter" width="300"] ce va spuneam cu harta? Mai ales in limba greaca, da limba aia de am ratat iesirea de pe autostrada cat timp incercam sa descifrez EXODOS pe indicator![/caption]

• Paris, 2008:

[caption id="attachment_176" align="aligncenter" width="225"] in gara in Paris cu vesnica harta, cred ca as putea totusi sa particip linistita la concursul Heineken, ca zau is Dropped, bine, nu la fel de dropped ca soacra-mea care atunci cand i-a cerut socru-meu cel ratacit prin Bulgaria harta Europei, ea i-a dat harta cu Muntii Apuseni...[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_177" align="aligncenter" width="225"] La Tour Eiffel a 300 metres, l-am gasit totusi[/caption]

• Zakynthos, 2010:

[caption id="attachment_179" align="aligncenter" width="300"] tot cu rucsacul in spate, da?[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_180" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Gerakas beach, formatiuni "lunare", deci pot sa spun ca am ajuns si pe Luna, aici pe Pamant[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_181" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Blue Caves[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_182" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Navaggio beach![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_183" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Din nou un loc de vis, Navaggio beach[/caption]

Candva, in acest timp, mi-a cazut in mana si cartea “Conversatii cu Dumnezeu” a lui Donald Neale Walsch si am inceput si evolutia spirituala. Nu mi-a mai fost FRICA de a ajunge sa ard in flacarile Iadului daca nu ma spovedesc sau nu imi fac o mie de cruci programate. Si mi-am reamintit de linistea, pacea si de experienta cu lumina aceea puternica simtite cand m-a calcat la 18 ani masina si pluteam spre greener pastures. Si am inceput iar sa cred: de data asta in mine ca parte din ceva mai mare si mai puternic care ne inconjoara.

Nu a fost doar o calatorie care m-a schimbat. Au fost mai multe care au contribuit de fapt la una mare, asta de viata. M-a schimbat in bine aceasta “calatorie” de viata pana acum? As zice ca da. Intr-adevar, nu imi mai gasesc locul, apartenenta, radacinile (am emigrat iar in Uca in 2008 si re-emigrat inapoi la Sibiu in 2011), dar ma simt mai puternica, mai descurcareata. Sunt si independenta? Checked. Are fie-mea un model de incapatanare (sau cum zice tacsu “de a da din coate sa se strecoare ca sa reuseasca asa ca oltenii”) cu de la ma-sa citire? Oh, yes she does. (Calatoria de a deveni mama si a creste un pui de om a fost de departe cea mai life-changing din ultimii 2 ani, am fost fortata sa invat ce este rabdarea in conditii “optime” de desfasurare a activitatii de manager copil.)

Intre timp, va recomand cu multa caldura sa va luati cu –cu!raj inima in dinti si sa pasiti in afara zonei de confort in care poate va aflati, de ex: daca sunteti absolventi de liceu si vreti sa dati la faculta, mergeti fratilor in alt oras, plecati de la mama de acasa sau riscati sa deveniti niste putori egoiste cum am fost eu in liceu, daca aveti 30 de ani + si stati tot la mama acasa, get out of there now, ca de' nu, vorba lu’ mama, nu va mai ia nici Dr..ulea de nevasta, daca va tot c..itzi daca sa plecati din tara sau nu, go for it! Nimic nu se compara cu testarea limitelor personale in scopul devenirii mai puternici, mai cu-cu!nostinte de viata, mai cu experienta, mai cu incredere in sine.

Si, ca sa incheiam o data, avand in vedere ca in continuare invart pentru Uca niste bani de colo colo si ma uit toata ziua la neste grafice financiare, io zic ca, as per below graph, a calatori fizic din punctul A in punctul B (cu calul, trenul, masina, avionul) nu are nici o importanta si nici o relevanta daca acea calatorie sufleteasca ce se desfasoara in paralel nu te ridica la o vibratie spirituala inalta. Asa ca astept cu mult interes sa vad pe unde ma mai va purta la vida loca. Am zis, am zis.