A Romanian-sense of Humor

I went to take a shower this morning before sitting down to write, my cold feet touching the cold tile of the bathroom floor, moving to the cold ceramic of the bathtub, hands on the cold faucet. And I thought how happy I’d be to walk across the dormitory hall to a shower ready with hot water, again. The thought surprised me. But it’s been something I’ve been wanting for a while: a long hot shower without so much work.

This semester, we’ve read Slavenka Drackulic’s book How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed.  Her descriptions of the living arrangements under Communism were at once the hardest and most-accessible issue to understand.

On one hand, my Westernized subconscious spouts a “if it doesn’t work, change it” mentality. Change the settings on the heater, change the heater, seal up the window that leaks cold air directly into the shower, even… close the window that leaks cold air directly into the shower.

But it’s not like that here. You don’t just get to decide that you want to change something, no matter how much it needs to be changed. There’s a lot more at play here than that. The window is cracked so the apartment doesn’t mold. The window leaks because of the pressure from the cement walls; it’s been years of pressure and force on that small wooden frame.

It’s hard for me to understand the “grin and bare it” attitude that I assuming ascribe to one wanting change but knowing it won’t come. But in Romania, it’s not even that. Here it’s even better: a “laugh and bare it” attitude.

We started watching some short film clips earlier this month on our trip to Cluj-Napoca. Clips about the ironies and jokes told under Communism. I laughed, hard.

Romania has taught me how to laugh better. This semester hasn’t always been rosy. We’ve run into a lot of angels and we’ve seen our share of the demons of international travel, cross-cultural understanding and the effects of “I’m just being plain tired” while living in community. But Romania has taught me a lot about playfulness and how to laugh in spite of hardship. Romania has taught me that happiness isn’t a hot shower. It’s not always about getting what you want. It’s about having what you need: family, faith, connection to the land and to a community. And don’t forget, laughter.