Of all the American feast days, Thanksgiving is closest to my heart. The first immigrants gathered with the Indians and gave thanks to God for helping them survive. Many times I thought it shouldn’t be just once a year, but then I changed my mind; it is good to have an official day, in which one can think about all his or her gifts, received daily or in time. The words to come were written as I thought about them while we were traveling.
I give thanks to God; He helped us every moment.
I thank Mihai. He is the one who transformed an idea into reality. Step by step, innumerable hours, during the day and especially at night, he searched on the internet for the cheapest and most comfortable ways of transport. He read what others wrote and learned from their experiences. He found the ideal weather (you don’t want to be in India during monsoon time, when it rains for three months in a row) and made a schedule allowing us to travel with minimum clothes. He is the one who searched and found hotels and apartments, not only good, but cheap and close to the places we wanted to visit. He is the one who pushed us out of the house, when we wanted to sit and complain, saying there are still places to be visited, and in this way he enriched us.
|Baobabs Avenue, Madagascar|
I thank our children, for their serenity... for their way of accepting the obvious; there is no escape from visiting every temple, museum, market and rock. For the joy of doing different things. For their patience, waiting for us to finish taking all the pictures (and for their smiles as subjects). For welcoming us in their adolescent universe and for sharing their thoughts. Because without them the trip wouldn’t have been so marvelous and maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all.
I thank our friends, old and new, for being there for us.
|With Rares, Dara, Ana and Doru, Japan|
|The "Going Anyway" family, Bali|
|Cristina and Dan, Greece|
I thank those who donated. Besides money, we received also the joy that they were thinking of us and the possibility of trying new things.
I thank those who made our beds, changed our towels and cleaned our rooms.
I thank those who cooked our food and those who served it, even if we didn’t appreciate it at its true value.
I thank those who drove our cars, or our boats, or our tuk-tuks and showed us a little bit of their country.
|Mr. Juned, India|
|The crew from Kerala|
|Phu, the man who helped us see the Details, Angkor Wat|
|Tsiribihina river, Madagascar|
I thank those who were our guides.
|Thomas and Robert, South Africa|
|Jean Robert, Madagascar|
I thank those who taught me how to say “Hello”, “Thank you” and “Good bye” in their language, to sing, to paint, to dance, to cook.
I thank those who opened for me the gates to a different world.
I thank the other travelers who gave our children the opportunity to mesmerize them with their adventures. To those who shared with us their favorite places and told us how to get there. To those who took our pictures.
|Milford Sound, New Zealand|
I thank our families, who traveled the world to spend some time with us and share memories.
I thank the people who took care of the house, the mail, and helped us with running things smoothly.
I thank those who prayed for us, who kept us in their thoughts.
I thank those who made it possible for us to see what we saw. The ones who imagined, constructed, searched, who founded, who excavated, who restored, who exhibited, who guarded (and the list goes on) the monuments and the museums, and everything else.
|From the cleaning crew, Cambodia|
I thank those who pushed our buttons and helped us to see our limits. It is wonderful to overcome difficulties—you feel open and free. (I hope that the person who has Maria’s shoes enjoys them!)
I thank those who thought it was just a usual day at their work. For us it meant to leave and arrive on time, to catch the next transportation, to have a pleasant experience.
I thank those who cut our hair, carried our luggage or in a way or another touched our nomadic lives.
|Solid honey, China|
I thank those who wrote to us. Your words brought the message that someone is reading what we are writing and they enjoy it.
I thank those who welcomed us in their communities, in their homes, shared their food and much more.
|Kendrick's family, Singapore|
|This is Mihaela's house and she had a collection of tea, Berlin|
|Isma and his mother, Catalunya|
I thank you, those who are reading my words. Because when it was difficult to find them, the thought that you are waiting helped me to overcome my procrastination and write them down. For your understanding of my unorthodox English syntax and grammar, as I am still thinking and dreaming in Romanian, in spite of 14 years in the USA. Because thinking of you, made me feel less homesick.