“O bucată de cer am numai, dar ce bucată!” - Mihai Eminescu
Truth is stranger than fiction, and I find that reassuring. Yesterday night I returned from Romania to The Hague, after a long ten-hour journey on land and in the air. I spent another week in the middle of nowhere, in a part of Romania that feels like home, that is home.
I think I returned cloaked in a different energy. The threshold moment for me this time was when I came across Amita Bhose’s1 collection of essays and interviews, I Started Dreaming in Romanian. I found it online, endlessly scrolling through the Cărturești website in search of books about villages in Romania, as I embark on a new project, Memory of Place, which explores overlooked places around the world.