“Trei pastori (three shepherds in Romanian)” was the song I heard so many times in this Christmas. Everyone caroling at the doors, kids singing door by door expecting some candies and coins in exchange for the little concert, and relatives who traditionally go house by house (of their families) to visit, sing and get some candies and drinks (lots of drinks).
I looked at the clock, 5am… I was praying that it would be the end. God heard me. It was. Don’t get me wrong, in my country I never went caroling anywhere. The CD was enough at home while decorating the house and smelling the turkey Mom was cooking for dinner.
We have to give it a try. When you are in another country (even another city in your own country) traditions are different, right? So, I joined this one. Why wouldn’t I give it a try. I loved it.
I went to Targu Mures. The Manoila family, a beautiful family, hosted me for Christmas time. I had an AMAZING Christmas. I heard songs, drank some wine, lots of food… visited my friend’s relatives, put up with the cold (missing the summer of my country), but oh oh. What’s wrong? When is it my turn to visit MY family? Maybe after 5am we can go? No? What?
“Mom? I just wanted to say I’m ok and I’m going to bed. Merry Christmas to everyone. Though I would love to talk to each one of you… I am tired and I think I’d better go to sleep”, I said on the phone, sitting on the floor while my friend was sleeping. And now this is when you hear that sound on the phone that tells you the call is over. It’s over.
I know Christmas is supposed to be happier. I am smiling but… my smile doesn’t last too long. After that I just want to lay down on my bed. Like right now, good night. Good night to everyone that is away from their families for any reason. I know the feeling 😉