Expat In Romania

This story has been in development for some time, but it's actually more interesting to write about it now that I can link it to a few more elements. Elements like 'Aha!-ness' for example. There is a particular place in my neighbourhood that I walk by daily, and I can't help noticing that the two flags (EU and Romania) hanging over the main entrance are faded, dirty, wrapped around their respective poles, and in such a sad state overall that I'm willing to bet they haven't been changed since the day they were put up. At first, I was like "whatever, typical". Then I realized something -actually, two things: 1. I accepted it, and 2. It didn't make any sense. Part of the reason I was looking forward to moving here is that this is a country where people are more concerned with life than with trivial shit like getting fortune cookies at the end of a meal in a 24/7 Chinese restaurant. That's to say, I'm not exactly anal about most things,...

Believe me, this will tie in with Romania and the everyday situation of people who live here as real Romanians. This brief aside is just to show I'm no longer to be considered a real Romanian: After ordering a beer (insert Ciuc product placement), I thought I'd check google maps, in case I was missing something in the area. I noticed the place had wi-fi, but that it was secured so I asked the waiter for the password. "Murfatlar" he responded, but when he said it it sounded like complete nonsense and I couldnt figure out what letters he just spoke. "What?" "Murfatlar, like the wine" "Sorry, I can't hear or something, what's the name of it?" In my head I was like, wtf are you sayin, bro. "MUR-Fatlar" He, was getting aggravated. "Umm..ok, so how do you spell that" "You're not Romanian, are you?" "Well, yeah I am..." "No you're not." "I mean, it's been a ...