"What About Second Breakfast?"

It is an interesting phenomenon that in various cultures it is polite to refuse an offering or service, even if one desires that offering, before accepting. Thus, the host knows that he or she will have to offer their gift more than once, maybe several times, before the recipient will feel comfortable to receive.
In Romania, I have found that things are much less complicated. While refusing once may be a sign that the guest feels that the host has been quite generous, it is not impolite to simply accept the gift at once without rebuttal. The reason is simple: it is impossible to refuse a Romanian. Let me explain:



Emma's great Aunt and Uncle have been taking us to see whom in America we might call distant relatives. In the last two days, we've met four great aunts, two great uncles, four first-cousins once removed, and three second cousins--which, for Romanians, is to say that we've met our family.
Yesterday, after taking us around to visit relatives where we ate great amounts of never-ending melon and pudding cake, they brought us back to their home for dinner. We ate the typical Romanian meal consisting of a large helping of soup, followed by a plate full of potatoes, meat, and salad, then ending with a 1/4 of a large watermelon. To refuse seconds and thirds at any of these junctures is tantamount to an expression of disgust with the meal, especially for a man.

After gorging ourselves as if our livers were being prepared for foie gras, we went for a walk in a park some distance away. Emma and I were very tired and anxious to get home at this point, but our Aunt and Uncle insisted that we return to their house once more for--more food. After all, how could we go to bed hungry? or slightly hungry? or having the capacity to think about food :) ?

We were each handed two large slices of bread, buttered and with salami one one side. A plate full of tomatoes and peppers sat in the middle of the table and honey was offered for the bare slice of bread. Then our hosts sat across the table from us, smiling as they watched us eat. Our conversation went as follows,

Uncle: [Translated Romanian in Italics] Eat, eat, aren't you hungry?
Will: Emma, I can't do this. I've been full the entire time we've been in Romania. I can't eat anymore.
Emma: No Uncle Jon, we're really not hungry. Thank you so much for having us over. We're really just tired. Aren't you going to eat anything?
Uncle: No. It's not possible for you not to be hungry. You have to eat. You can't leave here hungry. 
Emma: Yes, we are really tired. But I'll eat one slice of bread with honey on it. But that is all. 
Uncle: [Makes a sound of frustration. Smiles quickly fading.] You have to eat more, you will eat more!
Will: What are they saying? Are they trying to get us to eat both slices of bread? Let me try speaking to them, I am full. Me is tired.
Aunt: Laughs. Listen to him speak Romanian! He cannot be tired. We didn't take him to the village today. Do you want fresh milk with your meal?
Will: I heard "milk." Tell them I can't I have too much milk because of my stomach.
Emma: He can't have very much milk because... what is the word?... gases?...
Uncle: Gases? 
Aunt: She means throwing up [makes the movement of someone throwing up]
Emma: No, not throwing up. It's... 
Will: I get what's going on here. I'll try making sounds. Bubble, gurgle, bubble [moving my hands around my intenstines]
Uncle: Oh, nausea. Or cramps? 
Emma: No, no, no... how do I say this without embarassing my mother.
Aunt: Oh, like flatulence. 
Will: Yes! Flatulenzi!
Uncle: Laughs, yes, flatuelence. That's okay. 
Aunt: Yes, that's not a problem, just kick him out! (She laughs). You'll have milk too Emma?
Emma: No, I only put milk in my coffee.
Uncle: You want coffee? 
Aunt: I'll go get the coffee.
Emma: No, no no! I don't want coffee.
Aunt: You said you wanted honey on your bread, where is the honey?
Uncle: She did not put any honey on her bread. 
Emma: No, I did put honey on my bread. Look! 
Uncle: I don't see any honey. Why are you not telling the truth. Just put the honey on your bread. 
Emma: Aunt and Uncle, here is the honey. Laughs really hard.
Will: Emma, hold it together!
Uncle: Does Will want more bread? 
Emma:  Maybe. Here Will, take my salami.
Will: Emma I can't. I feel terribly right now. It's hard enough eating these two slices. But this milk is amazing! Is this straight from the cow?
Aunt: Why isn't Will eating more? What is wrong with him? Do you feed him at home in America? 
Emma: He's just full. I am too. We're both really tired. 
Will: Me is tired. Me is very, very tired. 
Uncle: Laughs. He is not tired. Give him more salami to eat....

 We were able to leave--at 10 pm. On the way home I told them thank you for all of the food. Her aunt replied, "Thank you for what? You didn't eat anything all day."

While there have been some comedic moments, we are overwhelmed by the kindness and care of Emma's family here. Even, if it means we are really full... all of the time.