Living Legends in Romania

Abstract

LYING in the northwestern corner of Romania, the mountainous province of MaramureS has traditionally been the country's most isolated region. Legend has it that the Dacians, tribal ancestors of today's Romanians, were able to maintain their way of life secluded there during the Roman occupation and the subsequent Gothic invasions. There, too, the Robin Hood of Romania, Pintea the Brave, performed his daring exploits in the seventeenth century. Today, the physical aspect of the area bears witness to the centuries of isolation. Distant villages along the valleys are first discerned by soaring steeples of elegant wooden churches dating as far back as 1364. Extensively-carved gates mark the entrance to every farmyard, and colorful costumes are testimony to the high level of weaving and embroidery skills. In December of 1971, and again in April and May of 1972, I accompanied the team of researchers of Bucharests' Institute of Ethnography and Folklore into MaramureS. The village they chose was Breb, a community of 450 families situated approximately twenty miles south of the Soviet border. Breb was chosen because it is one of the few places in Romania where farming has not been collectivized, and also because it lies far from the main highway and other influences which transform customary life. My first view of the village was from a snow-covered road built for the visit of Maria Theresa to Transylvania. Steep shingle-roofed houses were scattered across a slope leading to the rugged 4,700 ft. peak known as 'Crest of the Cock.' The only sound we heard as we walked the last mile to the village was of bells ringing on horsedrawn sleighs as they brought manure to the fields. Every horse wore a red tassel by its ear to ward off evil spirits. Women leaned over a stream, washing clothes for the Christmas celebrations, and farther on our 'gazdas' waited for us with warm plum brandy and bacon. 'Gazda' is an age-old social term denoting a villager who