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People of romanian village

Published 5 years ago

Humans of romanian village – with love for humans, villages and traditions. The story “Humans of romanian village” started on a cold day of December, when nine geography students inspired by “Humans of New York” wanted to do something for their people and traditions.

Proud of our origins we started to photograph our loved ones from the countryside. The simplicity of our people and their day by day activities are the main focus of our page. We want to tell you the stories that made a generation grow, that give this country its beauty. This is initiated by Clubul Roman Pentru Volunturism.

“I think eternity was born in the village.

Here every thought is slower,

And your heart throbs more seldom

As if it wouldn’t beat in your chest

But deep in the earth somewhere.”

– Lucian Blaga

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“- Can I help you?– No, my dear. It’s not heavy, I’m going to fill it.”

“- Grandma, what is love?– Love is when after a hard day of work we gather around the table and thank God we are healthy and we have what to put on the table. Love can’t be measured with words, we realize immediately if someone loves us or not.– How can we tell?– Look, it’s simple! You look into their eyes. The eyes never lie. When someone loves you he’s always by your side, even if you are doing good or bad.– I love you, grandma!– I know, your eyes are telling me more than your words do.”

“Don’t eat the cabbage! Go away!”

“- What are you doing, grandpa?– I’m struggling with this cold weather, it’s so cold that the birds are screaming. We do what we can at shelter. I don’t have too much to do over here, just to put some shoes to the horse, repair the waggon and other things for the house. I always liked doing all with my hands.”

“Our father always says: If you don’t study, you will go to graze the goats.”

“- What are you doing, uncle?– I’m feeding the cow.”

“Over here, working. I’m alone, my mother has died, my father has died. I have 64 years.”

“Twice a day I go to get some firewood. What should I do? The blood has to move. Until now I would have come with some fire woods, but it’s Sunday… What should you do?”

“Someone from the village taught me this when I was 16 years old. I’m the only seamstress from the village. I have the sewing machine from my parents. We sold a cow to buy it.”

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humans, Romania, traditions, Travel, village
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