Saturday, 11 February 2012

Except from a report I'm writing on Trip to Romania... TBC


Every good story begins with an introduction and an author, so here I am- Kendra Titheridge a normal 22 year-old who some would say has had an extraordinary life… me, I think I’m normal, there is only one element of my life which is different to others my age, and that is that I believe in and follow God, and through him I have seen and done amazing things. 

 
The last few months have been a whirlwind for me, I have experienced a complete change in Season, going from four years serving in the Royal New Zealand Navy as a Warfare Officer, to following the word on my heart, leaving my job, friends and family, and serving others as an intern in Next Level International (a voluntary service organisation in which I will be working on Romania and the Bulkan region). While I was at sea on a six month deployment I felt a calling to work for Romania, within a few days I put in my required three months’ notice and began the journey, the first Sunday back in New Zealand I was connected to a man visiting the Church I frequented, he not only worked for a Voluntary Service Organisation in Europe, he had been on numerous trips to Romania… I applied for an internship solely on his recommendation of me, December 5th I officially left the Services and was unemployed, December 7th I found out I had been accepted and by January 15 I was making the 32 hour journey across the world to Europe.
And all because I promised I would say “yes” to all was asked of me.

An intense session of personal growth began over the next two weeks, where I got to know the organisation, meet the amazing people involved and attend an inspiring conference-of-sorts where the new mission of Next level International (NLI) was discussed. The focus has shifted to that of transforming the world through meeting the felt needs of those in poverty and need, through the small and simple idea of showing love to a generation and people who have not experienced it, many are being touched and changed for the better.

So within two weeks of arriving in England I was to leave for a one week trip in Romania. The trip began in chaos with the largest storm of the year hitting Eastern Europe the day before we were to fly into the country. After a 4am start the small group of four, that being Kevin (NLI Region Leader- Balkans), Leanne (Country team Leader- Romania), Dave (CP Partner- Senior Leadership North Coast Church Wales) and myself (the green and rather excitable intern) ended up spending eight hours in Luton Airport after our flight to Bucharest was delayed.
After finally boarding the bare-bones aeroplane we realised the trouble was only just beginning, nevertheless we departed in one of the cheapest airlines in Europe, each with only a small piece of carry-on luggage, to a snow leaden Country and landing strip. Dave quickly regretted moving to a seat at the back of the aircraft which appeared to be empty and would offer him more room for a sleep… he soon discovered the one man sitting alone in his row was a criminal flying back to Romania under escort. Needless to say, the sleep didn’t go very well.

As the plane made its approach I watched the ground beneath us with a natural concern, everything was blanketed in a metre at least of snow… runway included. As we got closer you could see the section where we were landing had actually been DUG OUT. If I hadn’t been so confident I was meant to be there on the trip, I might have been scared. To the passengers and my surprise the landing was one of the smoothest I’ve experienced, and the pilot was literally greeted with a relieved applause as the plane slowed.

The next two days were spent in and out of a hotel near the airport in Bucharest, the capital city of Romania. The day after we arrived the enormity of the storm and its impact struck us. The dreary, dirty tiled train-station we visited every few hours for updates on departing trains to Constanta (where we had visits planned), the station seemed like a place frozen from a communist time not-so-long-ago. Swarms of people waited in the high negative temperatures for a train which had not arrived, when one finally did we discovered it was completely booked, though our initial disappointment turned to relief when we discovered later the train had derailed mid-journey when it hit a snow bank. Although those more experienced in the team found the delay frustrating, I was almost grateful for the opportunity it gave me to explore the city. For two days I explored the city, sometimes with another, sometimes alone, getting to know the real Romania, it’s backstreets and its people. 

In the beginning I followed the cliché tourist “recommendations” and though I saw many large and spectacular examples of European architecture and obvious wealth, from viewing the second largest building in the world- The Peoples Palace (originally the power demonstration of the Communist leader Nicolae Ceausescu) even these buildings seemed shadowed by a dark and unspoken cloud. The impression which developed was one of a city veiled with a thin coat of money, though beneath in the city the walls are crumbling, graffiti, homelessness, abandoned buildings, rubbish and wild dogs are sights so common, the people living in the city seem to pass by without even seeing anymore. In an attempt to blend in (by this I mean avoid being recognized as a foreigner and being approached for money) I began observing those on the street. There were many worn-down faces, everyone seemed to be pacing forward, eyes cast down, suspicious of all around them… even the pretty girl’s faces looked somehow hard, frowns creasing their faces too early.


People seem to accept that they live in a heartless world, one where no-one but themselves will take care of them. I have never seen so many elderly working so hard, people that would be cared for in retirement homes, fed and looked after medically or by relatives here will endure freezing temperatures from early morning to night, working at whatever they are still capable of, to just earn enough to survive. We heard stories of the elderly being forced from their homes to the street. One of the hardest hitting scenes I saw was in the train station, entering a room in the station we saw what looked like a bunch of rags lying on the dirty floor. Soon the realization came that this was a person. A police officer strutted over to the bundle and after a quick investigation, seeing the man was alive, he forcibly pulled the man to his feet. The man was very old and visibly thin and hunched over, in what seemed like fear he hobbled on both legs across the floor and out the door, in what I thought was an attempt to escape the prosecution. 

It really struck my core, just the loneliness of the situation, that in all likelihood this man had no-one to take care of him and would soon die this way. And after the scene finished, everyone turned back to what they were doing as if nothing had happened....

This is where I've gotten to in my writing. I thought I should post something since it has been too long without one. The story will continue as time allows ;)

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