16 Jun 2014 Cluj to Sighisoara
Good Morning Cluj.
We got going around 8 am. Instead of walking down the same street, we instead take the next street to the west and go up to the top of the hill, where there was a 5* hotel and some nice views, then a LONG set of stairs back down.
Back down and across the river, on one building was a memorial for 3 people killed on 21 Dec 1989, the day of demonstrations in Cluj.
As we were walking in the center, we came upon a pastry shop. The pastries were more in a Hungarian style than the Romanian pastries we had become used to. We purchased a strudel with caramel, a strudel with spinach and broccoli, and a pateu with cheese. Two coffees. Total 17.5 lei.
We were in a town that was both Hungarian and Romanian. For the first time, the money changers also changed Hungarian forints. We didn´t realize it at the time, but Cluj also has a Sachsen-German history, and its name is also Klaussenburg, or Klossenbrigge.
Two girls on the street explain that school classes are given in many languages: Romanian, Hungarian, French, German, English. You pick the class with the language in mind. They were Hungarian. Do the Hungarians and Romanians get along? So far, was the answer, but maybe not in the future.
Across the street was the Lutheran Evangelic Church. The signs are in 4 languages (Romanian, English, Hungarian, German). Cluj was greatly affected by the Reformation, and in 1543, a number of its churches ceased being Roman Catholic, and became Lutheran Reformed.
A couple of doors away was a tourist office. The guy there pulled up a document with info on the former Jewish sites and marked up a map for us. Kudos to him.
But first, off to the market. We pass a spice shop with as many as 100 spices, including, believe it or not, Szechuan peppercorns, which didn´t seem so fresh. Hard to imagine how Szechuan peppercorns fit into either Hungarian or Romanian cooking. There was a map of the world covered in whole spices - the spices were wrong for many of the countries, but the idea was admirable.
Finally, on to the market, where we pigged out on all sorts of perishable eat-em-immediately stuff: frangole (remember Bacau), zmeura (raspberries), and afine (really tiny blueberries, smaller than we ever see in the U.S.). We ended up holding on to a small plastic tray - instead of getting the fruit in a plastic bag, where it deteriorates immediately, we purchased only what fit into our plastic tray. There were many Romani sellers.
As we walked around the market, we came across a store entitled Crama Tohani. Lo and behold, we walk in and they will dispense wine into any bottle you present. We think that "crama" means winecellar or tavern. So for 2.5 lei, we purchased 30 cl (our old US Minute Maid OJ bottle) of dry red wine. Absolutely the right size for 2 enjoyable long slugs. Yummy!
Back into the market for a toilet, where we find sellers of "crud" (raw) milk. Also, here you get "crap" (Romanian for carp). Romania - home of crap and crud.
On the street we see a market: Borsarock. It is 11, and the owner is just opening it. It is a store for Hungarian wines, and the owner tells us why. Romanian wines are generally to Communist standards, and are mostly shitty (his words), while Hungarian wines, esp., Tokaj, are to the highest standards. We could have talked for longer, but we had taken 20 minutes of his time, and a real customer had come in.
We pass two churches, the Transformation of our Lord Cathedral, with its plain high cathedral style, and the Greek Schimbarea la Fata.
We had seen piadina stores, a Cluj specialty, and Mike had to try one, so for 11 lei we got a "Venezia" (prosciutto, gorgonzola, and rucola) to go. It is like a thin focaccia grilled with the cheese, then the meat is added and it is folded over.
It is now noon, and it is time to find some of the Jewish sites. The first one we find is the Jewish community center. We walk in and find a bustling place. Unlike the Jews of Moldavia and Bucovina, who had been in the area for hundreds of years (since 1600?) and spoke Yiddish, the Jews of Cluj were there by permission of the Austro-Hungarian empire, came in the mid to late 1800s, spoke Hungarian, and had a tendency to adopt the Reforms adopted by German Jews. They were safe until May 1944, when the Hungarians deported almost all of them to the death camps. There were now 400 maybe-Jews (mixed marriage), of whom 140 consider themselves Jews and participate in the Jewish community.
Time is running short. We walk by the former site of the mikveh, and stop to eat our piadine. Carol wasn´t thrilled: too little filling, too salty.
We are near 16 Str. Gheorghe Baritiu, where there once was a synagogue. Now just a routine store. To the left is a door. We go in. Back behind are a series of 4-6 homes. We walk back and at the end of the property is an old building, the former synagogue. We knock.
The new proprietors of the space, now a place for exhibitions, arranged rental from the Jewish community in 1974 of this totally rundown space. It had been used very hard, and had deteriorated badly. Very little of the former synagogue was left, but you could glimpse bits of the old building, and a little Hebrew on the ceiling. The painted ceiling still remained in places, but the Ark wall was blank. The site currently houses a very graphic exhibit on the Prague Uprising. The 2 people we spoke to are passionate about the politics of memory. They gave us a small book with photos from the Holocaust.
It was now 1 pm. On to the Neologa Synagog, restored in 2012, and now locked up. Up the hill to the hotel. We retrieve our bags and take a cab for the 6 lei ride down the hill. We in plenty of time for our 2 pm train to Sighisoara.
The train is scheduled to take 4 1/2 hours. Because there is track work, it ends up coming in about 40 minutes late. The car is nowhere near full, and across from us were 2 college age students. They are actually 20 & 21. They have procured jobs in the US doing housekeeping for the summer. They are taking the train from Cluj to Bucuresti, then a taxi to Otopeni Airport. They will catch a 3 am flight to Lisbon, and from Lisbon to Newark. There they will be picked up and taken to "Ocean City," where they will work for the summer. At the end of the summer, they have some free time to travel.
We are confused and think that they are going to Ocean City, NJ. Actually, they are going to Ocean City, Maryland, where they will be fairly isolated, we believe. Anyway, we talk about the US, US food (one is absolutely dying to try Taco Bell), US customs, and their hopes and dreams. We don´t have the heart to tell them these kinds of jobs are commonly exploitative.
Anyway, we get to Sighisoara. We buy rail tickets to Brasov for the next day. We walk the 150 m to our hotel, Pensiune Mario. Our proprietress has given us a very nice room for only 100 lei ($31). We ask what time is checkout? She asks when is your train? We say 1343. She says 1330 is OK.
We have a little time to walk into town before it gets dark. It is starting to drizzle lightly. Imagine our surprise when we come across a memorial to the deceased Romanian soldiers who died in WWII. The memorial is in Russian, Romanian, and Hungarian, and prominently features the red hammer and sickle. Romanians are profoundly anti-Russian and anti-Communist. We had assumed that they had purged ALL of these symbols. Apparently not here.
We cross a small river to get to the center. A local, maybe disabled or autistic, comes up to us and tells us he will be our guide in finding dinner. We say we don´t need a guide and give him a 1 leu note to disappear. There is a pizzeria, but as we walk a little more, we find two restaurants. The more expensive one has more customers, but we break our custom of going to the most popular restaurant, and go to the one w/o customers. There we order gulas, a tochitura from the region, and an eggplant salad (with tomatoes and onions). The tochitura features an orange yolk fried egg on the mamaliguta. 41 lei. Pretty good.
The rain has let up. We walk back late and go to bed.
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