The Oblivious Tourist: An Essay by Erikå
Have you ever really taken the time to observed the local people around you when you take your vacations?
Some of us save so long to take the journey of a life time. Others have the luxury of making frequent vacations .
Welcome to the Bran Castle and the people who try to survive as the oblivious tourist walks past them each day, never noticing them, never understanding what they go through each day
|| Doamna de brânza ||
Each day I walked past her she sat in the same place selling the same items; the homemade cheese she made herself. She was there before the dawn and would leave right before dusk. She always had a smile upon her face, but her stack of cheese never got any smaller…
|| Nelinistit ||
When you walked to the west of the lady in my previous post; you would see this man. He too was selling homemade cheese, but never sat still. Always pacing back and forth in front of his tiny unstable table. He always seemed so nervous. I only saw him two of the three days I visited.
|| Domnu Sociala ||
With his tiny traditional hat upon his head, this man was in the better area to sell items to the tourists. He would sit and chat with his friend for hours and make sells in between. Each time I walked past him he had a smile upon his face as he looked at me sneaking in an unspecting photo…
|| Porc Pielii ||
His eyes were as blue as the sky on a summers day. His traditional hat positioned perfectly upon his head. He was the busiest of all the vendors. As I walked up to see why everyone was at his stand, he was the only one selling pig skin and pig ears to eat! Popular treat for the locals and inquisitive tourists placing dares to try it….
|| Mici ||
Getting to the center of the plaza, I ran into this pair cooking mici. The aroma of the traditional treat filled the street and with that smell brought the Hungary tourists and locals a by the dozen. The entire 12 hours, I never seen them stop…
|| Bucătar ||
The line was long and the smell of the mici were intoxicating. Everyone was talking about the tasty lil treats as they stood in line. One by one, this man was handed a metal tray full of the lil mici ready to be grilled. He would take great care as he placed them on the grill. A quick hip shot and days later I seen this photo
His eyes told a very deep story….
|| Doamna de la Flaut ||
The closer you get to the actual castle, you see the people selling traditional Romania keepsakes. This lady was selling hand carved flutes and other instruments. All were displayed perfectly for those who were visiting in hopes they would buy.
She played her traditional songs and you could see her countries pride beaming in her has she played….
|| Tristete ||
This man always looked as if he suffered so much pain. He was selling cheese on the outer perimeter of the castle. I remember the tourists with their cameras passing him by one by one. None even noticed him sitting there asking for people to buy his creations. His Romanian sang pass their empty ears…
|| Steaua ||
I had the opportunity to speak to this lady after two days of passing her. She would sit in this place with a single jar of jam she made herself. When I spoke to her she would smile. What a vault of history that was stored in her. She was 95 years old. She was healthy. She was the star that shined through the heart of this small tourist town…
|| Femeie de flori ||
She never smiled, only followed for a short distance asking in her native tongue if we would buy. The flowers never left this position. Her large basket that held tiny baskets of berries were decorated with leaves. The berries were all hand picked. She never took a break. Like the many others around her, she was there from dawn to dusk hoping someone would buy something…
Next time you venture off on a vacation, whether it be something close or afar, take note of the people around you who rely on you to visit….
I’d like to extend my thanks to all of you who were supportive! I greatly appreciate it and very happy you enjoyed the series.
A special thanks to Anna Cox for inspiring my to get of me arse and write something with these photos! – Erikå