There comes a time in every person’s life when one needs to look back at everything they have accomplished or failed to and remind themselves why they are still doing what they are doing. This, for me, Alexandra, is one such moment.
Although, initially, I did not set out to become a tour guide (I am a political science graduate, with a very creative, yet not so analytical way of thinking), the past 7 years have thrown me into the adventure of a lifetime. I became “the girl with the red umbrella”. Funny how most people in town don’t really know my name, but usually refer to me as “the one with the red umbrella....or was it the girl with the red hair?” :)).  Because, yes, the red umbrella has become a part of my body pointing to things up in the air (yes, Romanians believe it’s rude to point to things by using your finger!).
Unavoidably, my day to day is everything but ordinary, so friends have always told me that I should put down my stories and experiences as a tour guide. I’ve never been any good at writing, but then again, I’m not getting any younger and my memory has always been shabby, so here goes. Make sure you’re sitting comfortably, with a good drink in your hand ;)
Since the beginning of a new year is always about resolutions, and frankly my resolutions are somewhat confusing this time, I’d rather write about gratitude and how rewarding my job has been during the past 7 years.
Ever since I took up tour guiding as my main job, I realized that my hometown has become my family, a family that smiles to me every single day, and waves to me, and takes awesome Polaroid pictures of my red umbrella. Here are a few of those things that make going to work worthwhile:
No.1. I usually start my tours south of the Bega River, close to one of the – if not THE – most beautiful Art Nouveau architectural reserves in town. It is said that one of the houses there still preserves the most beautiful Secession interiors in town. It is a place where you may say that time stood still, although its walls are all about poetry in motion.
Now, getting inside this place is not always an easy task, but thankfully there is a special someone, tenant of this particular building who has not once said Hello to me or answered my pleas verbally (or with a smile even), has always stared at me funny, before typing in that magical code opening the gateway to my heaven. To this day I doubt that Nicu (let’s call him Nicu) even knows what I do or what I’m even doing there. But thanks, Nicu, you’re the greatest, weird as you are.
(To be resumed...)