The Roma Reality in Romania

The Roma are a part of Romania’s image that the tourist board wishes would go away. (The term “Gypsies,” which used to be the common name for this ethnic group, is now considered both derogatory and inaccurate.) But they are a reality in Romania, and we wanted to include a bit about them in our show. Of course, there can be a bad element in the Roma community (some are known for petty thievery), just as there can be bad elements in any community. But there’s a positive side too: hardworking Roma families and communities hoping to assimilate into general Romanian society.

I have a particular interest in the plight of nomadic people (whether Kurd, Eskimo, American Indian, or Roma) whose cultures are built on the nomadic lifestyle and whose very existence as a culture is threatened by being forced to stay in one place — and put their children through local schools. Nomads just don’t fit in the “private property reality” of the last few centuries, and struggling to conform to these unnatural norms — across nomadic cultures — is fraught with challenges and problems.

Rather than show glitzy, so-called “Gypsy palaces” and reinforce negative stereotypes, we worked to be both honest and positive. It really helped to meet and talk with local Roma. Writing the script was delicate. Here’s what we said:

A fun part of travel in Romania is to gain an appreciation for the diversity of the 20 million people who make up this country. Along with ethnic Romanians — who’ve been here since ancient times — there are minorities: Germans, Hungarians, and the Roma.

The Roma originated in India. They were nomads who migrated over the centuries throughout Eastern Europe, where they gained a reputation as entertainers and metalworkers — and sometimes, unfortunately, as petty thieves.

Romania has Europe’s largest Roma population. They’ve had to abandon their nomadic ways and face the challenge of settling down. The classic Roma image is of poor people in shantytowns. But here in Romania, most Roma live side-by-side with their neighbors — often poor, but more or less fitting into mainstream society.

Many Roma carry on the traditional craft of metalworking, and we’ve been invited in to learn more.

At this point we connected with metalworker Emile, his father (Emile), and his son (Emile).


This is Day 59 of my 100 Days in Europe series. As I research my guidebooks and make new TV shows, I’m reporting on my experiences and lessons learned in Portugal, Spain, Italy, France, Bulgaria, Romania, and beyond. Find more at blog.ricksteves.com.

A Very Merry Cemetery

One of the most memorable sights in Romania is the Merry (as in “joyful”) Cemetery. I’ve enjoyed a variety of graveyards throughout Europe. But this one, in Maramureș, is really a one of a kind. Here’s how we described it in our script:

Just up the road is the Merry — as in joyful — Cemetery. In 1935, a local woodcarver — inspired by a long-forgotten tradition — began filling this cemetery with a forest of vivid memorials. Each one comes with a whimsical poem and a painting of the departed doing something he or she loved.

Even if you can’t read the poems, the images speak volumes: weaver … loved bikes … television repairman … soldier … hit by a car … struck by lightning … nagging mother-in-law.

It’s a poignant celebration of each individual’s life, a chronicle of village history, and an irreverent raspberry in the face of death. And it’s all painted a cheery blue to match the heavens where the souls are headed.


This is Day 58 of my 100 Days in Europe series. As I research my guidebooks and make new TV shows, I’m reporting on my experiences and lessons learned in Portugal, Spain, Italy, France, Bulgaria, Romania, and beyond. Find more at blog.ricksteves.com.

Old-Fashioned Waterpower in Romania’s North

Romania is full of surprises and wonderful people. And when you cross into Maramureş, the area in the north (just over the river from Ukraine), it gets even better. In this region, the traditional culture survives vividly. And Gheorghe the miller — who’s breaking in a new hat — seems to be a big fan of tradition. He grinds corn, mashes felt, cuts lumber, and even distills his own horinca — the local firewater made from plums. In this clip, he lets us poke around his churning water mill.

(Both in Bulgaria and in Romania, meeting people often came with a welcoming glass of the local brandy. The horinca was good but too strong for me. I found the Bulgarian rakia easier to swallow and really fine at making any gathering become a party.)


This is Day 57 of my 100 Days in Europe series. As I research my guidebooks and make new TV shows, I’m reporting on my experiences and lessons learned in Portugal, Spain, Italy, France, Bulgaria, Romania, and beyond. Find more at blog.ricksteves.com.

A German Time Capsule in Romania

The “fortified churches of Transylvania” were built by Romania’s German minority. They are just one of many fascinating dimensions of exploring this country. Here’s how we explained them in our TV script:

Some of Romania’s most memorable fortresses aren’t castles at all — they’re actually churches. While big towns were well-protected, smaller German villages were vulnerable to invaders. So what did the industrious German settlers do? They fortified their churches.

Dozens of fortified German churches — mostly built in the 13th and 14th centuries — are scattered across Transylvania. Like medieval fortresses, they have beefy bastions, stout lookout towers, and narrow slits for archers.

Entire communities could take refuge inside — within these wraparound defensive galleries. This church had a room for each family and, when under attack, each family had a defensive responsibility.

Stepping inside these churches feels like stepping into medieval Germany. Decoration is humble, pews are simple benches, Bible quotes are in German, and, to this day, the services are Lutheran.

Today most of Romania’s ethnic Germans are gone — having emigrated in the late 19th century or fled to Germany after WWII. Those who remain speak a time-capsule version of German and work hard to keep their unique cultural heritage alive.

By the way, our scripts are part “voice over (VO)” — me reading the script while we show interesting things — and part “on camera (OC)” — when I talk directly to the camera. The VO stuff is what’s obvious to “cover” with our camera, and the OC bits are material that is more difficult to cover. All but one of these paragraphs are easy to cover — and therefore VO. I bet you can tell which one we did OC.


This is Day 56 of my 100 Days in Europe series. As I research my guidebooks and make new TV shows, I’m reporting on my experiences and lessons learned in Portugal, Spain, Italy, France, Bulgaria, Romania, and beyond. Find more at blog.ricksteves.com.