Yesterday was a real ‘red letter day‘ for me, though the letter was blue – blue paper, blue ink.
One of the highlights of my usual summer trip to Romania last year was meeting two of my former students, from around a quarter of a century ago. Since then I’ve kept in touch, a little via internet but, more importantly, by handwritten letters, in line with my rediscovered love of the fountain pen.
A letter in the post
Yesterday I received a 13 page letter from Paula, now a teacher of English in the beautiful Bistrița valley in Romania; she graciously tells all that her present career is due to my teaching in the 1990s.
Paula is a busy lady, a full-time teacher in high school, supplementing her income with private tuition as many Romanian teachers have to do. Her husband is now working abroad as many Romanians find necessary so with a young son, it’s not surprising that she began her letter to me in early December last year and finished it in early February this year.
A poet remembered – Labiș
I was delighted to see she’d remembered that I’d said it was good to receive something in Romanian so she’d written a paragraph in her own language (which I had no problem reading). However, she also remembered I had said that one of my favourite Romanian poets was Nicolae Labiș and had written out two of his poems for me: Moartea căprioarei (The death of the deer) and Meșterul (The master {craftsman}). They will take me rather longer to fully understand but I’ll enjoy the exercise. I read the first many years ago on a visit to the village of Mălini (in my beloved Bucovina) where Labiș was born, when my Romanian was much less good than now; I remember that even then it brought tears. It was probably what first created my love for the poetry of this poet, who died tragically young in strange, controversial, circumstances. Meșterul I do not know.
I’ve already begun a letter back to her which I’ll complete over a little time in the future; I’ve also begun one to my Latvian blogger friend Ilze, which I’ll complete in a rather shorter time.
The pen is mightier than the keyboard
I’ve said it before, I now write all my stories and poems on paper with a fountain pen, and am even trying to expand my single attempt at a novella into a novel using the pen not the computer; I find the creative juices flow more freely with the ink. But hand writing letters seems to be a powerful medicine when the stresses of daily life are trying to take over.
May 8, 2019 at 6:18 pm
How wonderful that one of your students was inspired to become a teacher from your example. As a former teacher (math instruction for 12 to 14 year old boys at a military school during the 1990’s), I believe the highest praise a teacher can receive is the validation from former students when inspired by our works whether they decide to join the teaching world or somehow find their vocation from our class instruction or life examples. High praise indeed!
March 30, 2019 at 11:13 am
[…] to complete my first ever ‘novella’. There has been one exception: I’ve been writing letters, handwritten with a fountain pen, to distant friends and relatives, something I’ve not done for […]
March 17, 2019 at 12:50 pm
Your post took me back to the times I was using a fountain pen during the calligraphy lessons in primary school. I wonder if they still hold these classes today. With the current use of computers, handwriting is so rare. For me, writing comes easier in front of a keyboard. Using a pen for more than a few minutes feels weird. Typing is faster and I find that this way I can almost keep the pace with my thoughts.
February 22, 2019 at 7:29 am
That’s lovely!