Papu Gherase, Papu Miciu, Papu Coli and Papu Giogi lead a quiet, light existence in a small village somewhere in the middle of nowhere in southeast Romania, meeting from time to time for long talks in the shade, to reminisce about moments from their past (and debate about different versions of it), to discuss their ill health and, from time to time, to try, not without considerable effort, to remember some polyphonic songs that were passed down to them from generation to generation from their ancestors, songs that they’ve always sung but that are now slowly fading away with their memory. Since they were discovered a few years ago by a famous Romanian musician who was literally bemused with their singing, the four grandpas started travelling a lot in Romania and abroad, where they were invited to perform in concerts. So, I start following them on the road and the four grandpas kind of adopt me as their granddaughter, being somehow very happy that someone is filming them and their singing, as they are fully aware that this tradition of theirs will die out once they do, because their sons and grandsons have no interest in learning this type of singing from their parents and grandparents, as they did. Following my four grandpas on the road, I quietly and non-intrusively observe how they find themselves in new places that they have never visited before, in front of people they love to meet and talk to and in situations they’ve never been in, such as giving interviews for the radio or television or signing autographs for small crowds of people. As they go from place to place, they meditate on a livelier past, when they and the people around them were happier and somehow more at peace with the world, they think about the troubled present, when young people are estranged from their families and their roots and they lightly and humorously discuss their own near disappearance. They do all this with a light heart and a sense of humor that makes them the perfect travel companions. They were shepherds before but their life philosophy is quite strong, so watching them talk, one feels like there’s a lot to be learned from them not only about their and their ancestors’ troubled history, but also about a couple of other things like simplicity or the sheer gratefulness to be alive. The charm of this journey through time is sometimes abruptly interrupted by small health problems that the four grandpas have on the road. But nothing is stronger than the will to experience life a bit more so everything always gets back on track. Their journey is not nearly close to being over. After a big concert, back on the road, the four grandpas arrive at the conclusion that it’s not that tragic after all when a tradition like theirs dies out, because if there’s no real interest from young people to take it further, then maybe it’s just better to let it go and to respect the natural flow of things.