Dawn Berkoski

When I heard about a Black Church in Transylvania, I didn’t know what to expect. A church as black as night, I suppose, but that’s not what the online pictures showed. As one of the oldest Gothic churches in the area, I had to explore it. So, I continued my travels through the Carpathian Mountains and headed to the city of Brasov.

Why was the church called Biserica Neagra? (Or, translated to German, Die Schwarze Kirche.) Was there any connection to Vlad Tepes? Would I find vampires there? One reference said that the bricks of the church turned black due to the horrific fire that burned part of the city in 1689. Another said it was caused by years of pollution. But I’ve seen burn marks on buildings, the way flames lick up a tower. I’ve seen dank clouds of pollution, hovering in the sky, blocking sun and choking life. The marks on the church were relatively low, and few cars were allowed in the square, so I was left with more questions than answers as I paid my entrance fee.

The history of Transylvania is like puzzle pieces that form more than one picture. An area caught in the middle of conflict time and again, owned, fought over, taken, or gifted, with roots spread further than any boundaries made by man.

That’s what I thought as I gazed at the ceiling of the Black Church and the Coat of Arms of the city I found there. It represents the crown of Kind Solomon, hidden by a tree near the gates of Brasov, right before his death. The roots are the 32 villages of Brasov County, some of which I drove through on my way here.

I roamed the church, taking in the reserved guild sections, the ornate funerary stones, moved from medieval cemetery grounds and placed into the walls. Rich Turkish carpets, elegant sculptures, and an antique altar and pulpit graced the great hall. I lingered by the 15th century mural of Saint Mary, Catherine, and Barbara that I found in an alcove, and marveled at the magnificent organ. A stunning Gothic church with a name that suits it, whatever the reason, but no vampires. If anything, I was struck by an eerie sense of loss, like I was missing something, but I had no idea what.

I left the church and explored more of Brasov. I instantly fell in love with the historic center. I visited other unique churches and a special synagogue. I found Catherine’s Gate and other towers that once defended the city from Ottoman invasions and more. I spent way to long taking photos of graffiti in Strada Sforii, or Rope Street, and marveled at people hanging outside a Hookah bar.

Of course, I had dinner at a restaurant called Dracula, because that’s how I roll. Beauty, death, history, a connection with anything outside the box, a love affair with a place that embodies all things above.

As I ate my delicious strudel dessert, I wondered where to head next. I had gone outside the box to visit here. The Saxons in Medieval Brasov, especially those associated with the Dăneşti clan, were against Vlad Tepes, or Vlad the Impaler, as he was called. I hoped to find some clue to vampires in association with that dark title. But the trail had run as cold as the falling temperature in the Carpathian Mountains.

And then I spotted something strange on the wall of the restaurant. Not the painting of Vlad, or the hanging garlic strands, but a picture of Vlad Tepes on a playing card. How strange. It reminded me of the mysterious fortune teller in Cluj-Napoca.

“Someplace dark and deep underground,” the tarot card reader told me. “That is where you will find vampires.” But I had already been in Crypts, Cemeteries, and Salt Mines across Transylvania.

“Follow the Ravens.” Another clue that had sent me into the dark dungeons of Corvin Castle and beyond. But the odd animal sightings had been strangely absent in this city with a grievance against Vlad. Was it connected to the quiet absence I felt in my heart?

And speaking of hearts… I stared at the painting of Bran Castle on the wall, a place I had recently left. I recalled the story of Princess Marie’s heart being moved from Bran Castle to Pelisor Castle, which wasn’t far away, just a bit higher into that thick forest, like the Brasov sign above the city. I pulled out my map and circled my next destination, Sinaia. I would follow Marie’s heart. After all, Marie was my middle name.

Dawn B~