we waited in the car while my uncle went into the small wooden church. somehow what was meant to be a quick stop turned into a longer stop. endless hungarian conversations. I didn't bring a book so my eyes searched for anything interesting. the sun was almost gone and it gave an orangeish hue to some of the old buildings. the little stream that runs behind the church had settled down to a whisper. the smell of the van, i can hear the dust collecting on the windows. for sometime it was just us on the quiet road. than a man walking a bike came into view. he was concentrating hard on not falling. he was so drunk that he zigzagged across the road. he took probably twenty minutes to get near the van, each of us entertained by his stagger. when he was just passed us, he tried to mount the bike to ride away, the moment his feet left the ground the entire bike collapsed. for a while there was a pile of bike and man allover the road. arms, gears, legs, chains, fingers, frames all moving around trying to right themselves. my uncle has more compassion than i and helps the poor man to his feet. they talk for a while and my uncle offers him a ride home. the man accepts but there is a concern about what will happen to his bike. you don't just leave bikes laying around for anybody to take. at least not on this continent. i volunteer to ride the bike home behind the van. The van takes off and i scramble to catch up, but the moment i put weight on the pedal the chain comes off. i tried to fix the chain but the gears are too close together and won't hold enough tension to make the whole system work. so for quite a while i put one foot on the bike and use one foot to propel me onward like a scooter. this works for a while and i get a kick out of doing this. some little romanian girls are playing in the street as i pass. I yell "howdy!" in my most american voice and it kills me how funny they think this is. they throw their heads back to laugh. after a while the people in the van are frustrated w/me since their pace is so slow. i talk to the van people and its decided that i should hold on to the driver side door and hitch a ride w/the van. i'm a bit nervous about this idea but the scooter thing was getting pretty tiring. i lock my elbow through the driver's side window and were off. the pace starts pretty slow but soon my uncle is driving fast enough to make me uncomfortable. he keeps talking to the drunken man all the while i'm holding on for dear life bracing for every hundred-year pothole, arm cramping up in tension and fear. it seems like a long trip to the man's house but that's probably just my opinion. the summers sun had set and the cool night was already on its way. colors already fading. eventually we slow down and stop at a small house outside of town; there is a field of hay on our right. my uncle got out and we put the man's bike away, he was surprised that the bike was there and when my uncle explained how we got it there the man listened intently. i saw the moment he understood by his expressions. he smiled a big toothless smile put his hand on the side of my face and said some words that have no meaning to me. i smile at his drunked good naturedness, but i don't need any thank yous - this is why i travel.