Servus! Tuesday afternoon couldn't come quickly enough for me. I was anxious to get down to la gara to bring the boys their food. I was particularly apprehensive about the condition I would find Alin in. I couldn't shake the picture of him in my mind, huddled on the cold cement steps, his back to the wall, eyes trying to avert Luci's demonic gaze and threats. Andrei met me early in the morning and we headed to the open-air market to purchase bread, crenvusti, "suc" (juice), and bananas.
In 1997, I met a young girl named Doris, a neighborhood girl who speaks English quite well. When she found out that I was going up to the caves that summer, she begged me to let her go with me. I really wanted to protect her from the kinds of kids I was dealing with, so I took as my translators Mihai and his brother Andrei Moldovan, or one of the social workers, or my friend Radu Cristea. One day I was unable to locate my usual translators, so I realized I was going to have to draft Doris. I shouldn't have worried the least bit about her. I think by that time in her young 12 years, she was already working her way up to a black belt in karate! When I took her with me, she had a rapport with the "cave kids" that none of the others seemed to have. This girl could take care of herself quite nicely! On this Tuesday, Doris wanted to go with us to la gara to find the boys, so at 3:15 she was home from school and we headed out with Andrei and Alina to go pick up Alicia Goodwin and get down to la gara by 4:00 as promised.
When we arrived at la gara, my heart dropped as disappointment set in, no boys! We went up and down the different passageways looking, then up to the street, looking. Nothing. We went into the station and there sitting in a wheel chair, talking with an old lady sitting on a filthy blanket in a corner to the far side of the room was Alin. We immediately went over to him and asked him where the others were. To my great relief, Alin looked much the same, no fresh bruises, and no signs that the other boys had beaten up on him, as we had feared. He still had that scared look in his eyes, but he brightened up considerably when he recognized us. He told us the boys were in "oras" (the city) which means they were out on the streets begging for money.
Upon returning to Cluj this time, I've noticed the age of the children put out on the streets to beg seems to get younger and younger. I've seen the tiniest of souls coming up to my car, upturned palm, the saddest doggie-type eyes, ragged and filthy clothing trying desperately to get money for the adults who put them on the streets to beg in the first place. I would venture to say that the vast majority of these young tykes are Gypsy, Tigani (pronounced Tsigan). Most of the children who are homeless are Tigani.
As we were about to leave to go search the streets of the city, we spotted a little girl who came up to the car begging for money. I gave her a couple thousand lei, and then we asked her if she knew the boys. "Da," yes. We got out some crenvusti for her and some bread and a banana. These kids are so used to people yelling at them, "Du te," (go) and being swatted at, I always try to touch them and hug them when I get the chance. This little girl was no exception. I reached out to her and hugged and then kissed each cheek. Her eyes softened and she seemed to relax a bit. As we drove off, she gave us a big grin and a wave "good bye."
We drove through the city streets looking, scanning faces for any of the boys. Finally, Alicia recognized two of the boys her parents have been working with. They ran over to our car when they saw Alicia. We asked where Emil and Gabi were. They pointed behind them to a park by the Somes River. Since we were in heavy traffic, drivers were becoming impatient with us and honking their horns, so Doris leaped out of the car immediately to go with them down to the park. I drove around several blocks to get back across the river and park my car near to where the kids were huffing their glue.
Of course we were greeted with smiles from all but Luci who was turning his demonic glare off and on at will. He was also whipping around a heavy metal chain over his head. Emil was no where to be found, but Csaby was there, sitting on the ground, wheelchair turned over next to him. Gabi was glazed over with drugs, the ever-present plastic bag being raised to his mouth and nose as he inhaled deeply the fumes from within. Mihaela was sitting on a blanket beside Csaby. Another girl named Ani was also there. She immediately recognized me from 1997 and kept calling my name and hugging her little body next to mine. These little girls that hang out with the tough boys seem to want desperately to be hugged and loved. The pity of it all is that they are also victims of physical, sexual and other types of abuse from the teenage boys they stay with. What they are crying out for is love of a different sort. Ani kept touching my hair, caressing my face, putting her arms around my waist and holding on for dear life. Her deep brown hair is cropped very close to her head, her big brown eyes are rimmed with black lashes, and her small stature belies the fact that she is now 15 years old. I worry so about these children, girls in particular, contracting std's, aids, or becoming pregnant.
There must have been 10 kids there on this mild spring day. The sun was shining; the grass in the park was green and lush. I began taking pictures of the kids and they all wanted to have their picture taken with me or Doris, Alina and Alicia. Of course we obliged.
I knew immediately we did not have enough food for so many. I had only bought enough for 7. The two we saw on the street were also coming down to the park, but Luci was charging at them to hold them at bay. He would swing that chain and growl at them. They remained up on the sidewalk. Doris and Andrei started passing out the crenvusti, bread and bananas. There wasn't enough to go around. I felt I had to do something! They wanted more juice and water, they kept rubbing their bellies, "Foame" (hungry) they kept repeating. Gabi and a couple of the other boys didn't seem to care about the food through the drug induced fog. They seemed content to inhale even more.
Ani kept complaining about her arm. She held it gingerly out to me to show me that it was swollen. I asked what happened and she said she had fallen and hurt it pretty bad. It looked painful. She kept asking if we could take her to get it treated. For the life of me, I had no idea where to take her to get it looked at. I told her I would check it out. In the meantime, I spotted a sweater lying on the ground. I grabbed it and wrapped it like a sling around her neck to hold the arm in place. Immediate relief came into her eyes.
During all the commotion between Luci and the boys up at the sidewalk and Ani with her arm, the others repeating "Foame," over and over, I realized we had to get back to another store and purchase more food for these kids. So after promising to be back soon, I piled our group into the car and headed for a store nearby. I went through the whole thing over again. I purchased crenvusti, bananas, juice and water.
Upon returning their numbers were fewer. They jumped at the juice and water we brought and started in on the crenvusti and bananas. I learned something interesting from them during our visit. We asked where Emil was. The response was "La grote" (the caves) and gestured over their shoulders toward the Transilvania Hotel. That's when Andrei told me they were moving everyone back up to the caves to hang out instead of la gara. I suppose that with the weather getting a bit milder, they didn't want to be living all the time in the underground passageways at the train station. I don't know how long it will last for them up at the caves because the hotel is none too happy with the homeless kids making a home out of the caves next to their property. Actually the caves are in a city park, and I understand the city isn't exactly thrilled about them residing there either. Before leaving them on Tuesday, I promised we'd meet them up at la grote on Friday at 5:00 in the afternoon.
When I took Alicia back to her house, I asked Victoria where I could take Ani to get her arm looked at. She told me that there's a children's emergency hospital where she can go and get her arm taken care of for free. The government pays for children's medical care to the age of 18. Nice! If Ani's arm isn't any better by Friday, I'll run her over to the hospital.
I'm finding out more about people who are taking care of homeless kids in Cluj. Radu Cristea told me that on Wednesday night, there was a piece on one of the local TV channels about the "cave kids." They actually had video of the boys at the caves and they were interviewing a young man named Marius who also used to be homeless. Now he's trying to help these homeless ones by taking them each week to a public bath where they can shower and clean their clothes and he brings them food. It's a blessing to learn that a national is doing something like this to help with the homeless. Being that he too had been homeless, he knows from "whence they cometh!"
I'm still waiting to hear if we'll be allowed to visit the three former "cave kids" in Gherla Prison. We'll be going in through Prison Fellowship Romania. Our passport numbers have been faxed to the proper authorities in Bucharest and we should know something soon. In the meantime, I'm enjoying Cluj and getting back into the culture.
There are many colorful characters around Cluj, as with any town, there are official and unofficial mascots who become legends in their own time. One of those is a man known only as LuLu. I've heard about LuLu for as long as I've been coming to Cluj, but have never knowingly laid eyes on the man until recently at a Liturgy last week at the chapel at the Theological Institute. After services began, a very strange, small man entered the chapel. He wasn't rude or obnoxious, and didn't interrupt the service, but he did make his presence known. Not inconspicuously he walked up to Bishop Irineu and kissed his hand, then went and stood by the cantors for a bit. I forgot about him until I noticed him go up to the iconistasis to venerate the icons then he walked on over to the side where the women were standing and he sat in one of the seats lining the wall. Sometime later in the service, he got up out of his seat and walked toward the back of the room. I thought he was rather peculiar. I later asked some friends who he was. It was then that I learned this was LuLu. Stories abound about him, but the most oft repeated is the one where LuLu was hitchhiking and was picked up by a truck hauling caskets in the back. It was raining, and not wishing to get wet, LuLu opened one of the caskets and climbed in and promptly fell asleep. On the way to his destination, the driver stopped and picked up other people who were hitchhiking. Totally unaware that anyone was sleeping in one of the caskets, the people now riding in the back were scared to death as LuLu woke up and opened the casket he had been sleeping in, and in his deep, gravely voice asked, "Is it still raining?" The story goes that most of the people in the truck yelled and jumped out to the street.
Another colorful local character is the "Pigeon Man" who goes around town feeding all the pigeons. Craig and Victoria introduced me to the "Pigeon Man" when I first got here and we were out shopping. "Pigeon Man" is a gentle soul and many people give money to him so he can purchase food for the birds he feeds. Craig once questioned him about where he lived and why he was always buying food for the pigeons before he bought food for himself. Pigeon Man told him that he lived in a rented room "for now," and then he said, "Wouldn't a father buy food for his children before he would purchase food for himself?" Craig said, "What could I do but agree with him."
I kept asking what Pigeon Man's name really was. Craig and Victoria said they knew him only as "Pigeon Man." Whenever I saw him from then on, I would stop and he would give me some of the cracked corn to feed the pigeons with him. He pointed out a broken window in the large Catholic Church in the middle of town and pointed to where the pigeons live. Sure enough, he'd whistle and pigeons began to fly out of the window and down to this gentle man. I asked him then what his name was. "Mihai," was his quiet response. I sensed that Mihai had a lot of wisdom and a spiritual well that runs deep inside of him. I only wish the boundary of language wasn't so great between us. I would feed the pigeons as their wings fluttered about my head, landing on Mihai's head and shoulders and hands, then I would give him some money to purchase more corn for his "children."
I can't believe that we are seeing snow flurries today! I've been here since March 20, this evening as I write it is April 6. The weather here has gone from freezing rain, snow and ice to nice balmy spring weather two days ago, back to icy rain and snow today! I've also been told by the Goodwins that on TV tonight, they warned the people in this area not to drink the water from the taps in their homes. Because of all the flooding and rain, the rivers are polluted and the water can cause sickness. O Doamne ajuta! O God help us!
With the wind whipping around wildly, my heart goes out to the homeless of all ages this night. I'm snug and warm in my apartment. I can't drink the water, but I have bottled water. I have a snuggly blanket to curl up under and a fluffy pillow on which to lay my head. The homeless we've met, young and old alike are most likely huddled at la gara, trying to sleep in stiff, wooden chairs or asleep on the filthy floors. Doamne milueste! Lord have mercy!
Friday I learned from Ole that we have permission to go into Gherla Prison to visit the boys! We are going to go Wednesday morning. I am going to buy some socks and get some toothbrushes from the Goodwins and purchase toothpaste at the market. We're going to bring them fruit and other things to eat as well. That will be another report in itself, I'm sure!
Saturday Doris, Andrei and I went to find kids and bring food to them. We drove around town looking at la gara and their usual haunts. We were told by one of the girls that they were back up at the caves, but having searched there already and not found them, we decided it check one last time. I parked the car at the hotel this time, and we began our descent to the caves when we spotted about 7 of the boys, all high by now, but thrilled to see us. They came running to greet us and thus began their usual complaint of, "Imi este foame, Zan! Imi este foame!" I'm hungry! We brought the bags with crenvusti and bread and bananas and juice from the car and followed them to their new cave, which is much more out of the way of the hotel than the other caves they previously lived in. In fact, this cave is not tall enough to stand up inside, but it is several meters deep and they have much more room.
Ani's arm looked better and not nearly as swollen and she didn't act like it was hurting nearly as much. Amazingly, Luci appeared rather calm and lucid. He wasn't picking on the smaller kids, which was quite a relief for us. Emil came up the road with large pieces of cardboard over his head. He looked clean and washed. He has brothers who live in Cluj and I imagine he goes to shower there. Again he started talking about knowing the team we had here in the summer of 1992 and asked about the favorites he remembered. Were those tears I saw welling up in his clear blue eyes as he thought back to his early teen years that summer? Emil simply does not fit in this homeless arena of life! I got Mihai to translate this into Romanian for me as I spoke seriously with Emil. "Stiu," I know, was his quiet reply.
We were really looking for Csaby. We needed to speak with him concerning a dog he had the other day. The boys were abusing this beautiful shepherd mix and so we took the puppy with us under the pretext of giving her a bath. A nice family in the Goodwin's neighborhood fell in love with Tera and wanted to keep her. We discovered that Csaby had paid 350,000 lei for the puppy and Victoria and I were going to put up 200,000 lei each to purchase Tera from Csaby and give her to the people who wanted her. The boys told us Csaby was in the waiting room at la gara, so we headed back there.
The ever present Tigani (Gypsies) make their presence known most every where they go. Arriving at la gara, Gypsy men were gathered together, black brimmed hats donned their heads, Gypsy women clothed in their fabulous skirts which are a kaleidoscopic of colors, congregated in small groups most likely gossiping about the latest events of the day. Colorful scarves adorn their heads, black hair framing dark faces, with jet black eyes, their braids are sometimes festooned with gold coins. I love the multi-pleated skirts worn by the Gypsy woman! The panels can all be different patterns, most often though, flowers on a solid background of white, yellow, black, fucia or red. In 1992 I dared to approach a Gypsy woman in a store and through my translator, attempted to purchase her skirt. She just looked at me like I was crazy! One of these days, I'm going to get me a Gypsy skirt!
We found Csaby asleep in two of the chairs in the waiting room at la gara, his wheelchair beside him. He woke up because of the commotion we caused when we walked in. Gypsy heads turned and mouths began to wag. Doris and Andrei tried to keep their voices down as we presented our proposal to Csaby about purchasing the dog. He seemed quite agreeable, so we wheeled him out of the waiting room to talk about terms. If we gave him the money now, the Gypsies would most certainly attack him and take the money. So we agreed to meet him Sunday to give him the money in another location. It was then that he told Doris that he'd rather have the money in another form; clothing perhaps or a new tire for his wheelchair. During our "private" conversation with Csaby, one Gypsy after another came into the room where we were talking, inching ever closer to catch any tidbit of interesting information, most frustrating!
You would think that finding a bunch of homeless kids who beg on the streets for a living would be rather easy to find, especially on a Sunday when traffic is miniscule, shops are closed and not many people are out on the streets of the city, right? Nooooooo! Doris, Andrei and I drove from la gara to the center of town up to the caves, back to la gara, over to the park by the Somes River, and back again to la gara. We must have spent an hour driving, hopping out of the car to run into la gara, look for Csaby, get back in the car and do it all over again at other spots where the kids hang out. Finally we went into the smaller train station near the main station and who should see us but Luci and another boy named Nicu. Both were free from the effects of drugs as they generally are on Sundays because they can't obtain them on Sunday. Luci appeared to be quite normal today, and his intelligence stood out remarkably. I was also amazed at the expression in his eyes. They were clear and placid unlike the raging brown eyes I saw on other occasions since knowing him. He was also quite talkative and helpful. We asked him where Csaby was and he offered to go with us to the main station and help look around. Once inside, Csaby still wasn't there.
Luci and Nicu wanted a ride down to the park by the Somes River and said the boys were going to be meeting there around 5:00, but first they needed some food. Luci said that since he wasn't on his drugs, he was really hungry. A lot of English was coming out of this boy. As I would ask Doris or Andrei to translate something for me I wanted to say to Luci, before they could get the Romanian words out of their mouths, Luci would answer me in English. He understood perfectly what I was saying. We took the boys over to a small corner store, much like a 7-11, and purchased some crenvusti and milk and "paine" bread. We were then joined by little Corina, the 11 year old girl we met when we were first meeting with the kids a couple of weeks ago at la gara. We bought her some food also. When we got outside, I began talking to Luci about his mama and tata (father). I asked where they were. Going back and forth from English to Romanian, he told us they were in the south of the country and he said that it was tough at home. I looked him square in the eye and told him, "Du te acasa, Luci" go home, Luci.
He asked me, "Why should I?"
"You're a smart boy," I began. "You don't belong on the streets sniffing glue. You've gone to school, and you're bright." I reached out to his shoulder and said, "No matter how bad it is at home you have a mother and a daddy who love you."
Luci turned his head away from me and said, "I know." When he looked back into my eyes, the soft Luci was gone. The cold one had returned, much like the biting, chilly wind whipping at us. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "Don't talk about it anymore," and headed off toward the car.
Luci has learned to protect himself from being touched by love and affection and has put a hard shell around his soul. I believe he's afraid to even have any hope of being loved. I desire to break into that shell for longer than the fraction of a second I witnessed, but my time is so limited.
We arrived at the park by the river and saw none of the kids. This was actually the spot where we were supposed to be meeting Csaby in the first place at 5:00, but still he was no where to be found. We were about to give up when we saw Emil walking across the bridge, heading toward us with several other kids bringing up the rear. Emil made a big dash toward us, limping as he ran to give us a big hug. He had been hit recently by a car and his leg was injured in the accident. I asked him how his leg was feeling and he indicated it was "Not a problem."
We asked Emil where Csaby was, and he said he would be down near Napoca Hotel in front of a church. We debated whether or not to tell any of the kids what we were wanting with Csaby. We didn't want the kids stealing Csaby's clothes and shoes once we gave them to him. We decided to take Emil into our confidence and ask him to help us get the clothing to Csaby and to help us get Csaby into the clothes once we found him. He agreed with us, and went with us in the car to find Csaby who was exactly where Emil said he would be, about 2km down the road in front of a non-denominational church.
Csaby was delighted to see us and smiled that huge, toothless grin at us. It was explained to Csaby that we had clothing for him and we wanted to help him get into them. He was so excited! Of course though, the other kids came down the street to where we were and began making a huge commotion. About that time, a woman from the church came out and wanted to know what was going on. Andrei and Emil explained what was happening, and she said we could use the garden area in the courtyard of the church in which to get Csaby all changed, so we wheeled him on down some steps and around the building and began the process.
Before I knew it, Emil was putting a nice fleecy shirt over Csaby's head and over his old clothing! Next, Emil was kneeling on the cement to start getting blue jeans onto Csaby's legs. The thrill in Csaby's eyes over his blue jeans was like magic and that grin never left his face! The next thing I saw, Emily was lifting Csaby out of his wheelchair and single handedly pulling Csaby's jeans up at the same time! I grabbed at the back of the jeans and we managed to get them up around Csaby's waist. Emil knelt back down on the cold cement and gently began lifting Csaby's deformed feet one at a time and tenderly putting the new, brown shoes on for him and tying the laces neatly in bows. I turned to Andrei and said, "We couldn't have done this without Emil." Andrei nodded his agreement.
So, now we had new jeans and shirt and shoes for Csaby. All that's left to buy for him now are a nice jacket, some socks, and hopefully a tire to replace the flat tire on his wheelchair.
While we were getting Csaby dressed in his new duds, Doris had decided to stay in the car with our little Corina because the cold was crisp and stinging. After we left and let Corina off at la gara so she could get a bus back to her home in a town not far from Cluj, Doris told us that she learned quite a bit about this sweet child who is begging on the streets. Seems like Corina's father died from an electric accident three years ago. She said that although she missed him, she was glad he wasn't around to beat her anymore. Keep in mind that Corina, this blue-eyed petit blonde is only 11 years old. Her mother sends her to Cluj on the bus each day to beg in the streets and she can't come home until she has 60,000 lei. She spends one week in Cluj on the streets, and one week in her town, attending school, which she loves, then it's back every day for a week on the streets begging. It's life the only way she knows it.
Pray for Ole and for Adi and for me as we get ready to go to Gherla Prison. Pray for the cave kids.
Cu mult drag. . . With much love. . .
Zan
PS. . .If you're new to my Virtual Romania email, then surf on over to my
website and see my "cave kids" up close and personal.