Letea, a quaint village in the Danube Delta, had been on my list of must-visit places. Known for its stunning natural surroundings and traditional architecture, I arrived with high expectations, hoping to learn about its people, culture, and reliance on fishing. However, my visit turned out to be more disappointing than enriching, leaving me with a heavy heart.
The village is home to a predominantly Ukrainian community, and from the start, I was met with an unexpected coldness. Few locals were willing to engage in meaningful conversation, and those who did avoided discussing fishing, often diverting the topic or ending the interaction abruptly. This indifference was disheartening, but the worst encounter came today at Casa Letea, a guesthouse whose owner had agreed to meet me.
When I arrived as planned, she refused to let us in, speaking to us brusquely at the gate. She claimed to have no time, and when I mentioned that I could have been a serious customer, she dismissively replied, “If you don’t come, others will.” Her rudeness left me stunned and hurt, especially since I had taken the time to arrange this meeting in advance.
I later learned from others that this unwelcoming attitude is not uncommon in the local Ukrainian community. While I hesitate to generalize, it saddens me to think that such behavior might be typical of the area. It contrasts sharply with the beauty of the village itself, where the traditional blue houses and lush landscapes should inspire warmth rather than bitterness.
Letea is undeniably a pretty place, but my experience there left me with no desire to return. Instead, I will focus my research and future visits on Romanian, Lipovan, Moldovan, and Bulgarian communities in the Delta, where I have consistently encountered openness and kindness.
Sometimes, the people we meet define our perception of a place, and in Letea, their indifference and rudeness overshadowed its natural beauty. It is a lesson I will carry with me as I continue my research in this remarkable yet complex region.