Sunday 9 August 1998

So this was my last day. It is finally all over. The morning was very difficult. For some reason Lisa and I were shattered and completely out of it. We had no energy and couldn’t think straight. I did some artwork with the children for Patreascu. Some woman came to me and babbled on in English about tomorrow’s plans to get me to Otopeni Airport in Bucharest. She ended by taking my train ticket to get my money back. However, I was still very confused about what was going to happen.

At lunch time, I was so exhausted that I went home and slept. I slept until Lisa rang asking if I wanted to go to Gisteni - the adult Institute with her and the sisters. It is a horrendous place with the most terrible suffering and I do want to see it but couldn’t face it on my last afternoon when I was so tired. You need to be very strong to go. Lisa tells me real horror stories about the place. The men and women wear rags and are continually subjected to the most manic Romanian folk music at full volume. Inmates of various levels of sanity and disability dance, rock, scream or just sit in wheelchairs. The stench is appalling - enough to make you retch. Corrina went today and actually vomited - she was terrified and disgusted. There is poo and pee and sick everywhere - on the floor, beds clothes and people. The ‘workers’ do nothing. When a priest comes, however, the calmest patients are dressed in smart blue track suits, bundled off to church, then herded out and the tracksuits whipped away before they have chance to soil them. Many women get pregnant there. We have one woman at the orphanage now who has no idea that she will have a baby very soon. We also had a little girl here today whose mother is at Gisteni, but is staying with a Romanian family and is about to be adopted by Americans. The whole place sounds awful especially when all the fully grown men bundle around you, grabbing you, feeling you and sniffing you. I am glad I didn’t go - maybe next time.

Anyway, I had a normal afternoon painting and spending time with my kids. We had a supper of bread and gone-off yoghurt, then Sister Benita called me in. She rushed me upstairs and told me I had to wear a sari and do some Indian dancing. In a giggling rush I got dressed up in a beautiful sari and they took me downstairs with Sister exclaiming ‘Oh my Jesus, Oh my Jesus’ in her strong Indian accent.

I came downstairs to a huge cheer and found the hall full of every single person from the home. All my children and those from the other rooms, the workers, unwed mothers and babies, sisters and Lisa were there. They handed me beautiful flowers and cards and sang to me. ‘We love you, love you Anna, we’ll miss you, miss you Anna, we love you, love you Anna from our hearts’. It was so wonderful I burst into floods of tears as I hugged and kissed everyone goodbye. They thanked me over and over again telling me what wonderful work I have done for them and gave me photos of Mother Theresa and her shoes that she wore for 40 years. Sister Fabiana said ‘May you always walk in the shoes of love’ They said that I was ‘Just like Heather - her hair, face, figure, voice - everything’ That was such a compliment! They sang a special hymn about giving and threw petals, then, smiling through my tears, they asked me to do a final Macarena and everyone joined in, even Sister Fab wiggling her hips. It was brilliant. People were crying to see me go! I left to cheers and claps, what a send-off.

Before I went I had a talk with Sister Fab. I told her all about Patreascu and she talked about me as a volunteer. They want me back next year. By this time, we still hadn’t sorted out my journey for tomorrow. I was a little anxious but things eventually resolved themselves. Gerry offered to take me at 5am the next morning, but I thought it was a bit too early so he brought over my train ticket instead - everything was sorted at last. Back at the Patreascu’s everyone was sad because it was my last day. Elena and I hugged and hugged, she nearly cried. They asked if I would like to stay with them again next year and I told them how much I would love to. They said it had been a real pleasure to have me stay with them. It has been a real pleasure for me too. Then Ramona and I stayed up talking over juice. We got on so well. I would love it if she could come to England. All day a song has been running through my head, from Annie; ‘Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow, you’re only a day away’...