Transylvanian trip tops traditional Halloween fare
By MARY COX
Staff Writer
■■WAS THUMBING THROUGH THE
I Sunday paper on a lazy afternoon
■ when I saw the ad for the trip to
I Transylvania. The ad promised an
■■exciting tour the week of Halloween. I
took another bite of my Snickers, squinted
to avoid the stream of sunlight filtering
through the window, and contemplated
the trip. .
I could really get the true essence of
Halloween traveling through
Transylvania. No more silly Halloween
parties standing around slurping on
"trash can" punch in my Mickey Mouse
costume. This year, Halloween would be
an adventure.
I stretched out on the couch and took a
deep breath. I could feel my body relax.
A muscle in my leg twitched. I snuggled
deeper into the fluffy, soft cushions. My
slow, rhythmic breathing lulled me
further into my thoughts.
I was going to Transylvania.
The plane to Romania was packed with
people from the tour group. I had kind of
hoped I'd meet an eligible-type guy on
this trip, so I was pleased to find I was
seated next to the only single male in the
group. He was a tall, slim, dark-haired
guy. He was quiet. He seemed to be
preoccupied with something. But I blew it
off thinking he might just be squeamish
about the flight.
It was long after I had gobbled the last
of the peanuts the stewardess handed out
when the shy guy told me his name.
Damon. A different sort of name, but then
again, he was no ordinary guy.
Damon seemed to be more relaxed
once we arrived in Bucharest, but I
noticed he was pale. He probably doesn't
spend much time in the sun, I thought.
Romania was a lovely country. Steep
mountains with snowcapped peaks, and
rivers snaking through the rugged
countryside. The cool daytime
temperatures turned into chilly nights.
Although thrilled with the scenery, I
soon realized the tour wasn't going to be
the haunting adventure I had hoped. The
setting was perfect for tales of Dracula,
but I was stupid to believe the tour would
get me any closer to true horror. I
resigned myself to this fact and enjoyed
the beauty of old monasteries and the
museums of Romania.
I noticed Damon was never around on
our daytime excursions. I was jealous. I
guessec he was off exploring on his own.
I wished I could wander off and see the
parts of Transylvania that our tour didn't
cover. But the KGB guide who was
constantly with us warned us about
wandering off. Being the chicken I am, I
decided to be good while visiting this
communist land.
One slate grey afternoon, Damon and I
talked with an old, haggard peasant in a
little village near the site of Castle
Dracula. The peasant told us that some
Romanians feel life after death is not
much different than life now. Some feel
there is no purely spiritual world, he said.
He added that some believe if a person
who has been cursed dies, he will be
doomed to a life of roaming the land at
night. That person is unable to live, yet
unable to die (his body can't decay)
unless a stake is driven through his heart
or unless his body is burned.
I shivered even in the warmth of my
heavy sweatshirt at the thought of
vampires roaming around the earth.
Jt would be my ludk
that tonight Damon might try
to kiss me, and my garlic
breath would give him
nosebleeds."
While the peasant explained how a
vampire could take the form of anyone,
Damon wandered off. The friendly
peasant said that if a vampire goes
undetected for seven years, he can even
travel to another country. He told me
vampires couldn't stand garlic or crosses
so I made a mental note to wear my cross
at all times — not because I was dumb
enough to believe these silly stories mind
you. I wanted to take all the precautions
just to play along.
T HAT NIGHT THE TOUR GROUP
ate dinner in a crowded cafe,
and I told Damon about the rest
of the legends I learned from the
peasant. I was hesitant to gorge
myself on -the tasty dish I ordered,
because it had so much garlic in it. It
would be my luck that tonight Damon
might try to kiss me, and my garlic breath
would give him nosebleeds. My only
comforting thought was that he'd have
garlic breath too, because he'd ordered
the same thing. But my hopes were
shattered when Damon pushed his plate
away without eating a single bite.
I ruined my chance, I thought to myself
as we walked back to the hotel. The
nearly full moon was just starting to shine
through the tree tops as I looked over at
Damon. His face had a pasty glow in the
moonlight. But my hopes were dashed
when he quickly deposited me at my door
with a mumbled "good night." It must
have been due to the sickening breath of
his companion.
The next morning we hopped a bus that
would take us to Dracula's birthplace. It
was hard to imagine baby Dracula
growing up in this simple structure.
Somehow innocence had escaped this
lack the Ripper of the 15th century, who
placed no value on human life.
One account about Dracula says he ate
dinner in the midst of hundreds of people
who were dying slow, painful deaths with
stakes pierced through their bodies.
Although behavior of this sort was
common among some rulers of this
period, for Dracula it was a sport. Damon
told me Dracula would even slit animals'
necks just to see the blood spill.
Looking around the narrow, winding
streets, I could imagine the fear and
anguish of Dracula's subjects. He could
pick anyone in the surrounding villages
for his next victim. He was even known to
turn against honored guests.visiting him >
at the castle. He'd order them to be
tortured.
I tried to push the gloomy thoughts of
Dracula out of my mind before nightfall.
Tonight was Hallo, a Pagan holiday, and
the reason I had come to this foreign land.
Finally, an authentic Halloween.
O UR TOUR GUIDE HAD
arranged a party for all of us.
I was careful not to eat any
garlic because this might be
my last chance with Damon.
But my heart sank when I saw Damon's
attention had turned to another girl at the
party. I bet she didn't have garlic breath.
But then again, I don't look like that in a
low-cut blouse. Depressed, I decided to
turn in.
I spent the last day hurriedly buying
souvenirs and packing, disappointed that
my trip hadn't been more adventurous.
We boarded the plane that night, and I
finally had time to relax. As our plane
lifted through the cloud cover, a full moon
made haunting shadows through the
window.
I was almost convinced vampires didn't
exist and that Dracula was merely a
blood-thirsty tyrant. I turned to share my
thoughts with Damon. His seat was
empty. The tour guide told me he never
rejoined our group. I figured he'd found a
home in Transylvania.
□