I came back home. Two years ago. I know, my last post was full of enthusiasm and the mystery of an invitation from a count. Reality, however, was a cold shower. I admit, I’m a bit deflated. After seven years of studying and working in Paris, with a rapidly ascending career as a designer, with recognition and a circle of Romanian friends who considered me a “successful expat,” landing in Romania was… difficult.

I looked for a job. And, at every interview, I was offered truly miserable salaries. Even though I came with experience, with a master’s degree from a top Parisian university, I was met with strange reluctance. “What do you mean, a top designer came back to Romania?” everyone wondered, a mix of disbelief and envy in their eyes. It was as if I had scored an own goal professionally.

Bureaucracy, Rigidity, and an Unexpected Sabbatical

I eventually managed to get hired. But, typically Romanian, it was through PCR (piles, connections, relationships) (subtle joke we haev in Romanian, PCR also stood for The ROmanian Communist Party), at a salary that, although better than the initial offers, was far from the standards I was used to. The most frustrating thing, however, was the mentality. When I proposed automating certain processes, using new software, implementing more efficient approaches – exactly the kind of things that had made me valuable in France – I was scoffed at. “You come here with French airs and tell us what to do?” I was told countless times. Rigidity, lack of vision, a fear of change that infuriated me.

I didn’t last long. I gritted my teeth for a few months, but the indignation grew steadily. I resigned. I realized I couldn’t function in such an environment. Anyway, I had saved some money while working in Paris, so I figured it was the perfect time for a sabbatical year. I packed my backpack and set off to explore my Romania, which, in my years abroad, I had forgotten too much about.

Return to Roots: Mountains, Monasteries, and Ancient Truths

This sabbatical year was, in fact, a blessing. I traveled extensively through Romania. I crossed many counties, climbed mountains, explored national parks, slept in cabins, and even under the open sky, in a tent. It was a super interesting experience, rediscovering nature and myself.

I also had a few encounters with bears, breathtaking moments that make you realize how small you are in the face of wild nature. I met other people on the road, some solo travelers like me, others groups of friends. I was also alone, for days on end, meditating in the quiet of the forest or on mountaintops.

In my wanderings, I also reached almost deserted villages, on mountaintops, and visited old monasteries, hidden from the world. There, I started reading again books on mysticism, on religion, dusty volumes found in monastic cells’ libraries or in personal collections. I was always searching for something, an answer to the questions I had asked myself since university.

It feels different in the churches, in those forgotten villages. There’s a different atmosphere, a peace, a connection to something older, deeper. It’s not the same crowd and chaos as in big cities, but a quietness that invites introspection. It’s as if these places still preserve a part of the primordial truth, that truth we seek with the “Truth Seekers.”

Now, at the end of this sabbatical year, I feel ready for a new beginning. I don’t know exactly what awaits me, or if I will try to get a job in a “classical” field again. But one thing is certain: Count Solomon’s call and the mysteries I explored in Paris have not left me. I believe my journey has only just begun, and that the answers lie somewhere, here, in this ancient land full of secrets.