2016 – Romania Without Dracula

Romania Without Dracula

Year: 2016

Interview – Mike Ormsby

After having enjoyed reading Never Mind the Balkans, Here’s Romania, I wanted to know more about the author Mike Ormsby and his subject matter. A British writer and former BBC journalist, World Service trainer and musician, Mike welcomed my questions with the same enthusiasm and passion I had found in his writing. With his wife Angela Nicoara, also journalist and writer, he has chosen Magura, Transylvania as his main place of residence.

What kind of reactions has your book received in the course of time? Can you detect any difference in its reception between Romanian and English readers?

Since 2008, when the book was published, the majority of my readers seem to have enjoyed it. Most of them find it amusing, direct, and accurate; I’m glad about that. My first publisher was a bit worried and said, “Romania is not ready for your book – it’s too honest.” I replied, “But if not now, then when?” As it turned out, Romania’s literary critics gave the book a very positive reception and several described me as “our British Caragiale”. Most readers on Amazon, GoodReads, and so on, have been very supportive too, and I’ve made new friends this way. Of course, some people do not enjoy the book and post negative reviews, but that’s life and I don’t mind unless they misrepresent or tell lies about my work, as some do, because that’s not fair.

To answer the second part of your question, many Romanians seemed surprised that a foreigner could observe, understand, and write about their country in a way that ’opened their eyes’. For example, a Romanian Army general told me that he thought his wife was crazy for looking after street dogs, until he read my book. Now, he sees them differently and even helps her.

As regards nationalities, I have not sensed differences between the reactions of Romanian and Anglophone readers. On the contrary, I see similarities. For example, many Anglophones and Romanians see this country clearly and are honest about its pros and cons. In my experience, when such people read ‘Never Mind’ they tend to share my own outlook and find the book to be fair and realistic. However, the opposite applies: some foreigners (often tourists) and some Romanians (often nationalists) wish to ‘defend’ the country from perceived attacks and do not share my outlook.

You wrote the book eight years ago and I have read the book now finding its tales still very topical. Do you think that anything has actually changed since then, if so, how?

Most drivers are more courteous and less aggressive, now. There is less smoking in public places and people seem more interested in healthy living. On the one hand, I hope Romania continues to change in such positive ways. On the other hand, I hope some things will not change: Romanians’ hospitality, their generosity, quick wit, fatalistic sense of humour, their remarkable ability to improvise with tools, and their ability to make fun of the bad times – haz de necaz. Those aspects I will always respect and cherish.

Many young characters in your tales show personal ambitions, various degrees of cynicism and little interest in getting involved in community issues. Can you see now a change in the general trend, with young generations more politically and socially active, see Rosia Montana and Colective movements, or do you consider them niche phenomenons of major cities?

It is several years since I’ve lived in a Romanian city, so I can only answer based on my experience of life in our mountain village. Here, young people seem keen on community issues. For example, for the last two years, my wife Angela Nicoara and I have been picking up litter from local roads and forests. A dozen local children got involved and we’ve since gathered almost two tonnes of litter. I’ll tell you more about this later.

The gap between the richest and the poorest in the country has widened further, with the middle class caught up in a quagmire and in search of a new political representation. What should we be expecting at the oncoming political elections due on December 11? Anything new under the sun?

As a politician might say, I’m glad you asked me this, although, actually, I’m not glad, because I have no idea what to expect. Put it this way, if Trump can get to the White House (as I expected), and if the UK can exit the EU (as I did not expect), then anything is possible in Romania. I hope for the best, but fear the worst.

Many of your characters experience at least a period abroad, which always help them observe the country more lucidly. These diaspora people, some leave for good, some finally chose to come back. Is there a role diaspora people can play in the present/future of this country?

Politically, ex-pats can help by voting in Romania’s elections. Financially, they can help by sending cash home, and many do. Culturally, they can help by making sure that their children are raised as bi-lingual speakers, this is very important. Personally, they can help by being decent people – as so many are – in order to help counter balance any negative stereotypes of ‘Romanians’. In my experience, travel changes us all, sometimes for the better. So, there’s hope for us all, and my suggestions could apply equally to Brits; we are no angels.

Among the many pending issues facing the Romanian society, lack of a basic environmental education and total absence of a recycling and waste management policy represent major ones. Tell us about your video about picking up litter, and about the idea behind it.

Angela and I decided to make the video after a villager yelled an ironic comment while we were picking litter. Before I tell you what that person yelled, a little context might help, as follows.

Despite our many invitations to them, no local adults help us to collect litter in Magura. Instead, they offer excuses, e.g. I’m too busy. Some parents even tried to forbid their kids from helping us to tidy up because they think it’s undignified, dirty, and ‘not our problem’, even though many of them own guest houses and thus benefit from a cleaner village for tourists to enjoy. Naturally, we are disappointed, especially as our work takes only a couple of hours every month or so. Anyway, moving on …

We were with local kids collecting litter from a mountain lane, when a local yelled, “Hah! Vino Mama, sa ma vezi cum lucrez la spatii verzi!” Angela told me that this was a sarcastic reference to a communist-era work slogan: “Mum, come and see, I’m working in the green spaces!”

We’d been thinking for a while about making a music video with some of the village kids who attend my ukulele class, but we had not chosen a song from our repertoire. So, we decided to use that communist-era slogan for a new song about collecting litter, a song urging local parents to help us. We were sitting in a pizza place at the time and we heard ‘Every Breath You Take’ in the background. We realised we could adapt Sting’s nice tune but add our own lyrics about litter in Magura. Angela found an experienced cameraman to help shoot and edit the film, and a neighbour choreographed traditional dance steps for the kids. We added a comic touch – dancing with bags full of rubbish – and paid homage to Bob Dylan with our flash cards listing the sorts of things we find in the village. You name it, we find it!

The video shoot took several days and was very hard work in hot weather. It can be tricky coordinating a dozen kids, for shot after shot, but they were very cooperative. When they got tired, we told them, “This is how it feels to be a movie star, it’s a lot of work!” That made them feel a bit famous and they’d brighten up.

So far, our video has had around 30,000 hits on the Internet and dozens of supportive comments. Lucian Mandruta from DigiFM posted it on his Facebook page, which helped. If you wish to watch, here is the link: ‘Amazing Romania!’ Please share, every thumb helps. But will local adults? We’ll see.

For all its shortcomings and chronic problems, Romania is the place you have decided to call home. What is it that attracts you most here?

When I first came to Romania in 1994 as a BBC reporter, it felt very different to other countries and attracted me in a way I could not resist. I had never visited a former communist state in eastern Europe and found this one fascinating; most of all, I liked the people. A few months later, I came back to teach at Scoala BBC in Bucharest and stayed a couple of years. I met Angela and then we moved to Bosnia, the first of seventeen different countries that we would live in during the twenty years that followed. Our life was very nomadic and we had no chance or wish to settle, but, eventually, we took a break and bought a house here in the mountains of Transylvania. We like the clean air and quiet atmosphere, after years living in big cities such as Jakarta, Khartoum, and Baku. We like pets but were never able to own any, since we moved too often, so this village is ideal for those we adopted recently – three dogs and five cats.

Last summer, a Romanian friend told us that he has no desire to live anywhere else because, ‘This country has just enough rules’. That made us smile and I know what he means. For all its problems, as you say, Romania has a special something that you won’t find elsewhere. When I’m away, say, in England for a few weeks, I miss that special something, whatever it is. However, Angela and I do get restless after too long in one place. Once a nomad, always a nomad, perhaps? Our feet are starting to itch, I fear!

If a ‘sufletul romanesc’ exists, what would you think it consists in? What role plays irony in it?

What’s in a Romanian soul? Great question! Certainly an affinity with the land – Romanians seem to enjoy a deep and lasting link to the countryside and the pleasures it affords. Every Romanian seems to know where to procure good fruit and vegetables, or the best tuica that money cannot buy, and so on. I think such links keep one’s feet on the ground, literally and metaphorically, although it took me a while to appreciate that, perhaps because most people in the UK no longer have those connections. What else? Hmm, perhaps an ability to get around the rules – or such rules as exist – to survive. Certainly a morbid fear of death by draughts, an allergy to seat belts (especially in an aircraft), and a chronic inability to wait in an orderly queue. Irony, yes, definitely. It’s the ace of the cards that life deals you, here.

Any other project coming soon?

I’m working on a collection of short stories set in Transylvania.

Cover photo by Cosmin Bumbuț

December 9, 2016
Mum, come and see… Kids Singing Green

While Romania needs to hurry up to cross the 2020 finish line with all its EU waste targets met, the situation on the ground becomes more and more unsustainable. At its core we find a cultural challenge which needs tackling by any possible means. Irony and direct involvement may prove amazing tools, as Amazing Romania! seems to suggest. It is a video produced by Mike Ormsby and Angela Nicoara who chose to deal with the Romanian green issue in a very creative way. In his RWD interview Mike Ormsby has revealed us the origin and the funny details behind the video shot in Magura and starring very special (and crucial) actors.

Enjoy the video and, above all, share it!

Excerpt from RWD interview to Mike Ormsby:

“Angela and I decided to make the video after a villager yelled an ironic comment while we were picking litter. Before I tell you what that person yelled, a little context might help, as follows.

Despite our many invitations to them, no local adults help us to collect litter in Magura. Instead, they offer excuses, e.g. I’m too busy. Some parents even tried to forbid their kids from helping us to tidy up because they think it’s undignified, dirty, and ‘not our problem’, even though many of them own guest houses and thus benefit from a cleaner village for tourists to enjoy. Naturally, we are disappointed, especially as our work takes only a couple of hours every month or so. Anyway, moving on …

We were with local kids collecting litter from a mountain lane, when a local yelled, “Hah! Vino Mama, sa ma vezi cum lucrez la spatii verzi!” Angela told me that this was a sarcastic reference to a communist-era work slogan: “Mum, come and see, I’m working in the green spaces!”

We’d been thinking for a while about making a music video with some of the village kids who attend my ukulele class, but we had not chosen a song from our repertoire. So, we decided to use that communist-era slogan for a new song about collecting litter, a song urging local parents to help us. We were sitting in a pizza place at the time and we heard ‘Every Breath You Take’ in the background. We realised we could adapt Sting’s nice tune but add our own lyrics about litter in Magura. Angela found an experienced cameraman to help shoot and edit the film, and a neighbour choreographed traditional dance steps for the kids. We added a comic touch – dancing with bags full of rubbish – and paid homage to Bob Dylan with our flash cards listing the sorts of things we find in the village. You name it, we find it!

The video shoot took several days and was very hard work in hot weather. It can be tricky coordinating a dozen kids, for shot after shot, but they were very cooperative. When they got tired, we told them, “This is how it feels to be a movie star, it’s a lot of work!” That made them feel a bit famous and they’d brighten up.

So far, our video has had around 30,000 hits on the Internet and dozens of supportive comments. Lucian Mandruta from DigiFM posted it on his Facebook page, which helped. If you wish to watch, here is the link: ‘Amazing Romania!’ Please share, every thumb helps. But will local adults? We’ll see.”

December 9, 2016
Never Mind the Balkans, Here’s Romania

Mike Ormsby, Never Mind the Balkans, Here’s Romania

Kindle Edition, 2, 211 pages

Published June 28th 2012 by Mike Ormsby (first published January 1st 2008)

Admittedly, it has taken me some time to discover Never Mind the Balkans, Here’s Romania, first published in 2008, yet here I am now, eager to fill that awkward gap.

In this collection of fifty-seven short stories, Mike Ormsby, a writer and former BBC journalist/World Service trainer, chronicles various moments of his experiences in Romania between 1994 and 2006, when Romania became his home.

Published simultaneously in Romanian as Grand Bazar Romania (translated by Vlad A. Arghir), Ormsby’s book received a range of reactions – from sheer enthusiasm to harsh criticism – mostly depending on readers’ personal visions, expectations, and sometimes, on their nationality.

Personally, I could not help getting absorbed in tales that so vividly evoke situations and characters almost identical to those I have come across, eight years later.

Irony – and, even more valuable, self-deprecating irony – seems to me the X-factor which makes you enjoy reading this book, to the point that some local critics have dubbed Ormsby ‘our British Caragiale’, after the 19th century playwright and satirist. Alas, I wish I knew more about Caragiale – just another one of the huge gaps I still need to fill – to fully appreciate that comment, surely enough, though, the author’s funny and bittersweet tone works as an antidote to his keen empathy with Romanians and their unique land, providing him with a safe distance from which to observe the scene.

Indeed, Never Mind the Balkans is not the only book about contemporary Romania under “modern foreign eyes”, so to say, and I will be dealing with at least a couple of others soon enough: Philip O’Ceallaigh’s Notes From a Turkish Whorehouse (Insemnari dintr-un bordel turcesc, translated by Ana-Maria Lisman), and Voyage en Roumanie by Alain Kerjean; each contribute in their own way to unveil some of the deep mechanisms at work inside contemporary Romanian society.

Back to Ormsby’s book, it strikes me for having succeeded in assembling such a vivid gallery of characters, so powerfully close to the “real thing”: you cannot but feel grateful for that. In each story, the author blends into his surrounding and allows characters to speak for themselves. His voice is never invasive nor in the least sounding like the usual “wise guy from the West”. Rather, quite often he limits himself to acting as litmus paper within his environment, letting people and situations speak for themselves. Like in Why Not, where his artistic projects with his friend Adrian finally cannot but crash when faced with the dumb indifference of an incompetent journalist, whereas in Nice Sofa, Ormsby lucidly stops aside to actually wonder, “Was it my fault? Was I some wise guy from the West, with big ideas?” So, as I went on reading – always with valuable help from my Urban Dictionary – I enjoyed descriptions conjuring up, in a bunch of words, whole human landscapes and situations.

More. Many tales leave you with a surreal aftertaste, not an infrequent impression in Romania. Take Labyrinth, where characters successfully incarnate one mainstream approach to life here: “Live by the rules and don’t get stressed.” Others – with generous help from serendipity – focus on the past or dig into local history to finally present you with little treasures, like Buried, where, en passant, Mihai Eminescu is described as that chap “with the rock-star looks”. The tale sheds light on the little known, tragic biography of a promising young translator, Corneliu Popescu, whom Ormsby discovers by chance while searching in the public library for English translations of Romanian authors. As a teenager, Popescu translated Eminescu, and brilliantly so, but died alongside his mother in the 1977 earthquake.

Another kind of sadness takes you when reading tales like Șpaga, depicting the use of bribes as the mainstream strategy to solve any practical problem or life issue, applicable at every possible social level.

The good thing about these tales is that they are not Bucharest-centred: Ormsby travels the whole country and encounters very different human habitats. In The Wrong Place, we end up in a small village, Tușnad, with poor Tanti Dorina who is caught in her damp bed between past and future, whereas in Too Good To Be True, a hiking trip takes us up into the Carpathian Mountains, dangerously close to angry sheepdogs. But it is definitely in tales like Faith, Hope, and Chablis that I most appreciate Ormsby’s voice. Here, two worlds – West and East Europe (allow me to generalise) appear to get extremely close one another, yet something goes wrong and it does smack of us-and-them – indeed a chasm – unless prejudice and self assurance are not won by good will and a sincere wish to understand “the other”. I won’t say more, because I do invite you to pick up this book and enjoy your reading.

Overall, I am grateful to Ormsby and will steal a quote from John Lennon, one which the author passes on to his friend George, a character we meet in several tales: “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”

December 2, 2016
My Take – Wake Up, Romanian!
December 1st is Romanian National Day, you can tell that from details like the sudden sprouting of flags proudly attached on each side of car windows, the smaller the car, the more likely the presence of flags.

General Elections Are in the Air

Yesterday morning the military parade – after three days of rehearsals and extra traffic due to detours – was arranged along Șoseaua Kiseleff, with the renovated Arcul de Triumf the heart location of the event. Apparently Ms Gabriela Firea (PSD), the recently elected Bucharest mayor, has succeeded in completing just in time the consolidation works of the Arc which have been keeping the monument invisible for the last four years. General Elections are due on December 11th and this appointment cannot but be seen also as a preparatory show off. More, due to the latest developments of the world politics, the annual military parade has proved an excellent opportunity to underline the strong links that Romania entertains both with the European Union and Nato.

Soulful Notes

As I walked to reach the venue, I was impressed by the level of participation in the event: families, children, older people, youngsters of all types – from hipsters to students, to manual workers – women from every kind of social and cultural background, and eccentrics, of course. While people with their flags still rolled up kept on flocking out from the Aviatorilor metro station, others had parked somewhere around and were converging from all other possible directions. In a corner of piata Charles De Gaulle a street musician was tuning the Romanian national anthem on his fiddle, children watching while their parents strutted them onward. In fact, those few soulful notes touched me deeply and stroke a cord of deep respect for this mysterious country.

The Call of the Past

When I reached Kiseleff at least five rows of spectators were already covering the street view, I wonder how much earlier they had to get there and, above all, how much colder it must have been then, considering that it was still rather chilly at ten something. Back in Italy, patriotic parades are much less successful, football championships maybe… Here it must have something to do with their communist past and the emphasis on public parades. When the never-ending parade began – also an Italian military presence was featured! – Romanians did their best to catch as much as they could, by any possible means. The moment air-fighters rocketed over our heads I could not help feeling overwhelmed by personal memories – my dad was an F104 aviator in his days – and so it was that the Romanian National Day was also my day.

La Multi Ani, Romania!
Heading to the parade at Arcul de Triumf

The National Anthem “Deșteaptă-te, române!” played on the street
December 2, 2016
Printre Cuvinte – Amid Words

Rap is not my genre but rappers may tell us something about the mood of the youngest ones: they powerfully echo shared disillusionments and hopes (?) and on national scales they “localise” nightmares and dreams of the latest generation. Their voices are worth listening to if you are interested in catching the mood of the youngest citizens in a country. In Bucharest Omu Gnom is one of them and the lyrics of his Printe Cuvinte (Amid Words) welcome you in the world of the Colectiv Generation.

Omu Gnom, Printre cuvinte, 2016

Sunt nebun, spun unii că da, dar eu dau vorbe de duh
Că atenție unu, sau bunică-ta
Dacă nu te implici, nu o să întelegi ce s-a relatat
E ca și când ai băgat cereale, să știi integrale la BAC
Nu ne-am născut pe planeta asta doar s-o populăm
Trebuie să ne găsim drumul, să vedem după ce scop umblăm
Ce lideri votăm, ce neghiobi urmăm
Ce vrem de fapt să facem, si ce top urcăm
Ne trezim uneori, dar parcă încă dormim
Toți la aceeași masă, sătui de mâncătorii
Dar fiecare se uită la altă farfurie și e cam trist,
Când vezi omul bulversat ca un câine rasist
Vezi ce ai în casă, înainte să te uiți pe fereastră
Uneori am impresia, că suntem toți împotriva noastră
Când de fapt, suntem toți la fel
Și toată șmecheria, e că armonia salvează România

Eu pot să-ți vorbesc mult despre una, alta
Dar tu ești schimbarea ta, tu ești meșterul și unealta
Ai răbdare cu tine, caută-te, găsește-te
Descoperă-te, bucură-te de tine, liniștește-te
Astea-s vorbe goale, dacă nu îmbraci cu ele fapte
Teoretic pare ușor, și practic par grele toate
Totul până începi, și apoi o să găsești ajutor la tot pasul
Te-ai săturat să te-nvârți în cerc, precum compasul
Trebuie să ai credință-n bine, să fi spiritual
Nu contează că ești ateu, creștin sau musulman
Trebuie să facem ceva, ne-am învățat prost de tot
Vrem totul deodata și fără efort
Omul e obișnuit să creadă că tot schimbă foaia
Mereu agitat, se precipită ca ploaia
Și daca-l întrebi, zice că așa vrea să fie
Dar degeaba știe ce vrea, dacă nu vrea să știe

Diferite situații, aceleași stări
Toți vrem răspunsuri, dar nimeni nu-și mai pune întrebări
Bombardați cu înformații, ne pierdem printre cuvinte
Toți vrem schimbare, dar nimeni nu vrea să se schimbe

English Translation:

Omu Gnom, Amid Words, 2016

You are crazy, some say to me, yes, but I give words of wisdom
Attention that someone, or your grandmother
If you do not get involved, you do not understand what was said
It’s like when you put grain, you know all at the BAC
We were not born on this planet just to inhabit it
We must find our way to see where we are heading
What leaders we vote, what fools we follow
What we actually do, and what top we climb up
We wake up sometimes, but as if still asleep
All at the same table, tired of eaters
But each looks at a plate and it’s kind of sad,
When you see a man confused as racist dog
You see what you have in your house, before you look out the window
Sometimes I think that we are all against ourselves

When in fact, we are all the same
And the whole trick, is that harmony saves Romania
Diferite situații, aceleași stări
Toți vrem răspunsuri, dar nimeni nu-și mai pune întrebări
Bombardați cu înformații, ne pierdem printre cuvinte
Toți vrem schimbare, dar nimeni nu vrea să se schimbe

Different situations, same states
We all want answers, but nobody are raising questions
Bombarded with information, we get lost amid words
Everyone wants change, but nobody wants to change
I can talk to you more about this and that
But you’re your own change, you are the master and tool
Be patient with yourself, look for yourself, find yourself
Discover yourself, enjoy yourself, relax
These are empty words if you do not turn them into facts
In theory it seems easy, while practically all seem hard
All that till you start, then you find help at every new step
You’re tired of spinning round and round like a compass,
You must have faith in a better world, be spiritual,
Does not matter you are atheist, Christian or Muslim
We must do something, they taught us more badly than anything
That we want it all at once and effortlessly
Man is accustomed to believe that everything changes sheet
Always restless, precipitates as rain
And if you ask him, he says it wants to be
But in vain he knows what he wants, if he does not want to know
Different situations, same states We all want answers, but nobody asking questions Bombarded with information, we get lost amid words Everyone wants change, but nobody wants to change

October 30, 2016
My Take – Walking Down Bucharest Parallel Worlds
Piata Revolutiei July 2016, Installation by Sever Petrovici-Popescu

“Imi place foarte mult sa ma plimb prin Bucuresti, am avut o perioada in care am mers foarte mult pe jos si mi-am dat seama ca Bucurestiul are o arhitectura extraordinara ce trebuie pusa in evidenta. Sunt o gramada de zone faine, mai ales in zonele dintre cartiere si centru.”

Omu Gnom

If you believe in the power of serendipity Bucharest is the place to be: here the music of chance may easily lead you to discover something intriguing just round the corner. If you can afford to invest some of your time in random walks, then just go for it. At times you may even experience shy forms of travel in time.

Adding up to your playlist

When on a stroll down Bucharest streets, once you have skipped the challenging gaps and holes of most of its sidewalks, watch around for clues. Say, you walk along Boulevard Dacia, your eye catches the sign of a small museum which, like a Theatre in Magheru, is dedicated to a Nottara: no time to pop in? Just take a note to look it up later and you will have added a charming piece to your Romanian music playlist: Siciliana, composed by Constantin C., actor Constantin I. Nottara’s son. If you head centre you may then stop to observe the elegant peacefulness emanating from the historic villas surrounding park Ioanid – these days mostly turned into diplomatic residences; you muse on all the secrets those windows and gardens have been guarding since their first appearance on the city map.

Contemplating new forms of barbarism

You decide to turn into a smaller lateral street – it never really matters which – and walk past the remains of a rusted iron fence containing a garden grown wild around an old villa on the verge of vanishing. Most of these fading buildings belong to a sophisticated and – curiously enough, for quite many Romanians today – to a nostalgic past. With a good help of your imagination – here comes the travel in time – you catch a glance of what, several decades back, must have been an aristocratic residence with its framed windows, its richly decorated iron bars, its glass-paneled winter garden… At their latest, these villas date back to the so called interbelic period. Shortly after WWII the new communist lords methodically destroyed as much as possible of all the past elites’ symbols: from impalpable aspects such as their social status and lifestyle down to their homes and very material existence, in an attempt at wiping them out of the urban landscape. Yet history repeat itself. Not ideology, rather a get-rich-quick mentality nowadays threatens to wipe out what survives of the architectural heritage. Critics say a significant number of these historic buildings could be strengthened, rejuvenated and saved – but that the owners prefer to leave them empty, waiting until it is necessary to tear them down for safety reasons and then, in their place, building a modern high-rise. Over the last decade the historic centre of Lipscani has undergone a massive renovation effort which not always has preserved all the charme of the original places.

New tenants for old buildings

As you walk down less central areas you are more likely to discover other interesting buildings. Hidden behind wooden boards and remains of deftly wrought iron fences, they seem almost claimed back by chaos. Yet, to a closer look, quite often these houses in complete shambles are not neglected at all and have rather ended up hosting a whole new set of tenants. They often happen to be Roma families that, having no other place to go, have installed themselves there, until local authorities, on behalf of legitimate owners who have finally regained their property rights after decades of legal fights, kick them out. Paradoxically enough, such a phenomenon did not exist in Ceausescu’s days. Back then the Roma community was integrated – though forcibly – in the Romanian society, both by being assigned a regular job and housing in the very same blocs along with all other Romanian citizens. After the collapse of the regime, that fragile social balance broke down for good, with democratically elected governments regularly failing at envisaging any kind of social inclusion policy, triggering – instead – new waves of racial discrimination toward the Roma citizens. Now back to the street. You can tell the Romas’ presence from the colourful mess of clothes hanging out to dry in the sun along makeshift laundry wires, or from the vibrant frames perceived through the palisades: dirty toddlers watching older peers’ skilful ballgames, cute girls laughing on thresholds, older women in their chenille bathrobes sweeping dusty courtyards – a minor rite which assimilates them to gadji housewives, reminding us that true, whole world is country. Most times, should you pass by over weekends, the scene would be enriched with manele tunes magically rising up from nowhere, electricity being somehow provided for in a place where regular utility bills stopped being mailed ages ago.

Bucharest live show

Leaving behind this layer of urban life, you recover your adventurous walk along a typical street with clusters of wild car-parking: no sidewalks for you, the only option being to keep going along the carriage way beside high-speed cars (the bigger, the speedier). Few more strides ahead and in front of an unexpected art noveau building you run into a TV crew arranging its equipment for an interview to someone hot expected to emerge any minute from his/her lawyer, as the elegant brass plaque suggests. Citizens must be informed: be it a football player signing a new contract, a vedeta divorcing from his third husband, a politician just charged with plagiarism of his university degree or, more simply, for yet another bribe scandal. As you observe the calm professionalism of the young TV crew operating amid the traffic, the notion that the world is a stage here appears reinforced with the idea of a dangerous stage.

Eternity Street

Surprises are in store even when walking along more peripheral quarters like Colentina or Pantelimon. There, on each side you are surmounted by gigantic ten-storey residential buildings Romanians call bloc. You stroll far away from picturesque neighbourhoods still you never give up and continue your quest for useful clues to understand more of this big city. They could be found in the icons worshipped in candle lit silence inside an orthodox church squeezed amid the blocs and the traffic, or amid the surreal silence circulating amid the tombstones of those resting in peace in cemeteries surrounded by beehive bloc. Take the almost abstract address of cimitir Progresul 2: Strada Eternitatii, Eternity Street. Definitely yet another layer of this big city.

Me and the rapper

I stop walking and head home. Serendipity does not stop operating its charms though. Checking out facts and information, I find out that Omu Gnom, a young underground rapper born and raised in the Drumul Taberei quarter – not suspected of indulging in the picturesque like a middle-aged Italian expat – also finds walking down Bucharest streets a unique experience. That is easily explained because all parallel worlds pass through Bucharest, somehow.
Bucharest, serendipity on sale in strada Academiei

Bulevardul Regina Elisabeta, pop art on the go

Bucharest is a mine of architectural styles, at times with an edge

A balcony for two

Bulevardul Protopopescu, how many stories buried inside there?

Chaos prevailing

Bucharest, corner of strada Academiei, Modernist building

Glass is a recurrent and often invasive element in new buildings

Architectural clashes reflected

Piata Iancului backyard, Typical ten-storey bloc

Colentina area, Cimiterul Reinvierea, the dead resting amid the blocs
October 3, 2016
Downtown Encounters/ Ion Barladeanu
Bucharest, July 2016. I meet Ion Bârlădeanu one Sunday morning in a sunny deserted city. On my way back home from downtown, some of his collages in the shopwindow of the “Uniunea Artiștilor Plastici din Romania” catch my attention. I tell myself, maybe it is open and he is inside here now. I press the handle and the door opens: he is sitting at the centre of the cool empty room, beside his inseparable piles of magazines. I introduce myself, explaining that I have been wishing to meet him for quite a while. We start talking and go on for about an hour, then we fix an appointment for the following day, same time, same place: I will be back with my camera, “I will be waiting for you, I keep my word.” He kisses my hand.

Ion B.’s Story

Ion Bârlădeanu is born in Zapodeni, historic Moldavia, in March 1946. Ion associates his childhood to a pleasant time: making carnival masks, pieces of chess, baskets out of maize leaves, carving toy arms, telephones. He attends a professional school for masonry in Iasi where he learns to draw. His father, a keen member of the communist party, wishes him to become a regular socialist worker but at twenty Ion runs away from home. From then onwards he changes a number of jobs: digger in a combinat and in a graveyard, dock worker in Constanța, sagristan, lumberman, keeper, workman in the building site of Casa Poporului. In Bucharest he also happens to spend few days in jail because not regularly employed. In Vaslui he is also enquired for political reasons, never having put up with his father back home. After the regime fall in 1989 unemployment is no more a crime and he ends up becoming a boschetar, the local expression for homeless. He finds shelter in the garbage room of a bloc in Calea Moșilor, where he survives by providing minor works and services for the residents. For about thirty years he has kept on collecting magazines which he has been clipping and gluing to create visionary collages.

Success arrives at a late stage and quite unexpectedly. In December 2007 artist Ovidiu Feneș points him out to gallerist and art dealer Dan Popescu. Things are bound to change in a short time for Ion, as narrated by the documentary In Lumea vezuta de Ion B. (“Il mondo visto da Ion B.”) by Alexander Nanau, winner of a Grammy Award in 2010. His collages are exhibited first in Bucharest, then in Basel, London and Paris.

Collages Film-maker

“I am a film-maker”, he declares with a curious mix of humor and gravitas, specifying: “in fact, now a worldwide director with scissors”. With an inborn talent for drawing and a long-cherished wish to become a film director or an actor, Ion creates his own imaginary world, a sort of “proto-pop” approach to creativeness which anticipates the arrival of the pop culture along with the consumer society soon after the fall of Ceausescu. Art may not describe it all properly: for thirty years that activity has been for him a form of self-therapy. Using minimum resources, his frames create a hybrid which combines pop art and surrealism dada in a way to trigger powerful narratives. His works raise wonder, irony and above all melancholy: hollywood stars and western world brands are inserted in local contests – Romanian landscapes and local scenes – and there they stand as icons of freedom in a dim gulag atmosphere. “Among my favourite international actors I list Liz Taylor, Ursula Andress, Silvia Coscina, Orson Welles, Peter O’Tool, Clint Eastwood, Marcello Mastroianni.” Over the years Ion’s scissors have made up his stories starring all national heroes from Nicolae ed Elena Ceaușescu down the line and each time in his hands reality has taken new unexpected twists making everything become possible. Not by chance “Realpolitik” is the title given to his first exhibition held at H’Art gallery, Dan Popescu’s gallery. Also his latest collages keep that dreamlike and estranging perspective and when I ask him what he thinks of today’s Romania he is quite merciless: “Romania got rid of a dictator who was like a sated wolf to end up besieged by a pack of hungry hounds”.

Fame, Critics, Life

A picture shows him sitting on a sofa with Angelina Jolie: true, since childhood he had dreamed of becoming an actor but life presented him with a whole different screenplay and the old man now in pleasant conversation with Mrs Pitt plays the unique role of director of collages. Despite his growing success abroad and his being often described as “the Andy Warhol of Romania”, vehement criticism has been coming from some local intellectuals who consider Ion B. as a clear case of shameful media hype and cynical exploitation of a naive by the art industry. No matter what, Ion strikes you with awe for his sense of dignity and self-awareness of belonging to the noble art world: none can doubt that he belongs there, anyhow.

Moreover, his past clochard life seems to have immunised him from the whims and tantrums of success and the temptations of money. I can see it clearly when I come back on Monday and we are walking along Magheru heading to H’Art Gallery. In front of Carturești we come across a street cleaner who warmly greets him: Ion stops to chat with him, his sad eyes attempting at smiling.

We reach the gallery, an attic in a palace from the forties in Dionise Lupu. Dan Popescu, the young owner, welcomes us, then it’s Ion who plays the host and shows me around the current exhibition: “It’s Codruța Cernea, a young artist, like most of those represented by the gallery. Actually for them all I am a kind of old uncle.”

We get out to the terrace that overlooks the cityscape. Without saying a word he reaches the balustrade to catch a closer view of Bucharest roofs. He says almost to himself: “they say that works of art go up to tenfold their value after the artist dies. By now I have become someone known with no money problem – even though I am not interested in having it – above all I finally have freedom. But what shall I make out of it? Too late now, as youth has gone and for good.”

Postscript (Stuff for a post to come)

While talking with Ion Bârlădeanu I realise how much Romanians are seduced by the cinema imagery. So, I guess, Ion’s cinefilia must have something to share with other surreal stories of human resistance during the communist years. My mind goes straight to “The Voice“, i.e. that almost abstract entity behind which all along the Eighties Irina Nistor, a courageous and visionary translator working at State TV programs, secretly dubbed over 3,000 banned movie titles on VHS tapes smuggled in from the West.

While people did wonder why all the Western movies were dubbed by the same voice, they were deeply grateful for her message of never giving up. It cannot be by chance that Nistor’s is till now the most well known voice in Romania after Ceaușescu’s.(Chuck Norris Vs Communism).

Lumea vezuta de Ion B by Alexander Nanau

Adevaratele povești din viața lui Ion B. by Andy Platon
Talking with a street cleaner

“What shall I make of my freedom now? It has come too late”

Ion is felt as an old uncle by young Romanian artists

Ion chose collages as an instinctive form of self-therapy

Ion Bârlădeanu with Sever Petrovici-Popescu, Bucharest, July 2016

Ion loves to collect hats

Talking with Ion Barladeanu

Ion B. with Dan Popescu

Ion B. with Angelina Jolie
September 16, 2016
Story – Despre Smerenie, About Humility. And Pride

Romania through the prism of a  video. On last April 7, Dan Teodorescu released online his song Despre Smerenie (About Humility): the video soon went viral and triggered a national-scale debate, both online and offline, to the point that people’s responses provide clues as to the range of mentalities coexisting in today’s Romanian society.

The Song, the Singer and the Friends

“Azi-noapte am avut un vis (Last night I had a dream)/ Catedrala Mântuirii Neamului Românesc era gata (the cathedral had been finished)/ Iar eu… m-am dus la catedrală, de dimineaţă, să-l caut pe Dumnezeu“(And so I went to the cathedral in the morning, to seek God…).

Singer, songwriter and Taxi band leader Teodorescu uses the pretext of a dream to suggest the idea that God is more likely to dwell in intimate spaces rather than in extra-large Cathedrals. Reference is made to the construction of the People’s Salvation Cathedral in Bucharest. The former engineer and teacher is not new to this kind of controversial performances. Taxi band leader for more than sixteen years, Teodorescu is perceived as an engagé artist, active in raising social awareness in a range of issues permeating different aspects of contemporary Romania; he belongs to the civil society currently engaged in promoting critical thought in a country still in search of its post-communism identity. No doubt responses to his work have always been varied. Nuanced criticisms – dismissing him alternatively as naive, pretentious, over sophisticated, politically correct or simply boring, have always been coexisting with stern appreciation and enduring support. The general impression is that he is aware of playing a kind of Jiminy Cricket’s role in a society where mass consumerism models, corruption and nationalistic pride conjure up to keep the leverage of power.

Dan Teodorescu, Taxi band leader. In 2014 they celebrated 15 years of activity

This time his song Despre Smerenie touches a very delicate point in individual and collective consciences: the impalpable sense of christian humility. Like he often does to better convey his messages, he has  invited some famous “friends” – 34 celebs – to repeat after him the refrain “Dumnezeu preferă lemnul si spaţiile mici” (God prefers wood and small places).

This chorus of sort is composed by a gallery of Romanian opinion leaders such as writers, actors, cooks, singers, journalists, intellectuals, each belonging to different background and generations:

Dan Bittman, Cornel Ilie, Monica Anghel, Virgil Ianțu, Andi Vasluianu, Dorina Chiriac, Ștefan Bănică, Robin Proca, Andi Moisescu, Dani Oțil, Paula Chirilă, Horia Moculescu, Toni Grecu, Irina-Margareta Nistor, Dan Byron, Teo Trandafir, Oreste Teodorescu, Pavel Bartoș, Ada Milea, Călin Goia, Mircea Cărtărescu, Horia Vîrlan, Guess Who, Laura Lavric, Andreea Esca, Răzvan Simion, Alexandru Andrieș, Emilia Popescu, Grigore Leșe, Mircea Baniciu, Alexandra Ungureanu, Oana Pellea, Victor Rebengiuc.

Thirty-four  Friends … Minus One

In fact, the reception of the video did prove controversial to a point that one among such “friends” decided to step back from the project. Soon after the video was released and the unexpected wave of harsh criticism broke through, folk singer and performer Grigore Leşe announced his retreating claiming that he had been somewhat fooled into it, not having been clearly told that the song aimed at criticizing the construction of Catedrala Mântuirii Neamului Românes. On his side, Taxi band published a comment on their Facebook page affirming that Leşe had had the opportunity to watch the video and know the lyrics in advance.

Folk singer Grigore Leşe

As a result, Teodorescu decided to withdraw the video in respect of Grigore Leşe’s choice to pull back from the project. Still the band informed on their Facebook page that they would continue to believe in the project Despre Smerenie and that they would return with the new version of the video soon after Easter, with a variant where Mr Leşe would not appear.

Teodorescu also declared that he regretted that he was not able to properly convey such a simple message. He strongly believes in God and his text was meant to be a parable, the lyrics underlining his spiritual approach. For him  God is to be found in a wooden church because he thinks God prefers simplicity and modesty – which does not mean that God can only be found in wooden churches… Teodorescu clarified that he had never intended to promote any petition against the construction of the Cathedral, but just chose to quote from the holy scriptures, his final message  only being that opulence and haughtiness have no connection with faith; had he wanted to launch a manifesto against the Cathedral – he observed – he would have taken action much sooner than now, before the construction commenced at all, and in a totally different form.

Pride (and Concrete) for a Cathedral

The controversial reference goes to the Catedrala Mântuirii Neamului Românes (Romanian People’s Salvation Cathedral). Currently under construction in Bucharest – 60% completed so far – it is located on the arsenal hill next to Palatul Poporului (Parliament’s Palace aka People’s Palace) and will be the patriarchal cathedral of the Romanian Orthodox Church, as well as the tallest orthodox christian church – about 125 meters high – in the world.

The plan of the cathedral complex includes a cathedral building, a soup kitchen with capacity for 1,000, two hotels and parking for about 500 cars. Designed to seat approximately 6,000 worshipers, it is greater than tenfold the current patriarchal cathedral. To build the complex will be used 100,000 m³ of concrete, 45,000 tons of rigid armature and about 25,000 tons of flexible armature, ten times more than a ten-storey block. The complex is also designed to withstand earthquakes of 8.5 on the Richter scale.

Bucharest, People’s Salvation Cathedral rendering. It will be ten meters higher than People’s Palace close by

The Cathedral is built with money from donations and with financial support from the state budget. The total investment amounts to almost EUR 100 million, with EUR 45 million spent so far, which is more than half of the total costs. Official sources say that “an additional EUR 45 million would still be needed for the church. The project has been meeting a wide consensus among the Orthodox faithful who represent 86.45% of the Romanian population, according to the latest census (2011).

While a real debate about pros and cons of such an impactful work has never gone public, over the last years many voices from the civil society – among them a number of NGOs – have been heard criticizing  the project, claiming that public money should be invested in more strategic public sectors such as hospitals, schools and social housing.

In fact, the idea to build a national cathedral dates back to more than a hundred twenty years ago, at the time of Carol I. A catholic himself, he  proposed it as a symbol of national unity and pride. Yet the project had to be shelved due to lack of consensus on design, location and funding. Further attempts at implementing the idea followed in time but always ineffectually, due to historical events such as the 29′ crisis, WWII and – not least – the advent of the communist regime. It was finally, on 29 November 2007, that Patriarch Daniel of Romania could lay the foundation stone and give his blessing, consecrating the site at Arsenal Hill.

Dragumiresti, Judetul Vaslui, Wooden Church

Wave of Responses

Father Vasile Bănescu, spokesman for the Romanian Patriarchy, expressed the official position of the Orthodox Church regarding the song and the video: even though not perceived as utterly anti-christian, they convey a message overtly against the Cathedral. Nor were more official words needed to comment on such a poor song with so little knowledge behind about the National Orthodox Cathedral project – expressing as it does only the artists’ preference for a certain kind of ecclesiastical architecture. Rather, the spokesman regretted that the National Cathedral project was still little known and a lack of dialogue was part of the problem. The Patriarchy hopes that the personalities involved in this song and video are mature enough to accept a dialogue: while differences may arise, the symbolic meaning of the edifice should be better understood. In fact, the suggestion is that the Cathedral is not meant to convey any message of humility – a virtue that is built over time inside each one’s heart – rather to bear witness to the dignity and identity of the Romanian Orthodox.

Bucharest, October 2011, a Pilgrimage to the building site of Catedralei Mantuirii Neamului that will be dedicated to Sfântul Apostle Andrei (Saint Andrew), the apostle who first introduced Christianity in Romania

Alongside the official position of the BOR (Biserica Ortodoxa Romana), an unexpected wave of different responses flooded the net: from harmless ironic parody of the song, like Despre sminţenie by comedian Valeriu Andriuţă, to more militant videos – one even showing a book by Mircea Cantarescu (a “friend” writer in the chorus) being burned.

The unprecedented harsh reception of Teodorescu’s song made journalist Cristian Tudor Popescu – a usually lucid analyst of the contemporary Romanian society – express his opinion. Firstly, CTP found the song pathetic and not funny at all. He believes that the authors should have researched more on the subject before insisting so much on such a quite naive refrain. By expressing their preference for wooden churches as opposed to stone buildings, Teodorescu and his friends fail to consider a historical fact: over the past centuries catholic Austro Hungarian rulers used to forbid Romanian Orthodox to build stone churches, making them opt for smaller wooden ones. On the other hand, Popescu expresses his deep worry at the violent and disproportionate reactions of so many “faithful”, which reached alarming points of radicalization: “where are we heading to? Towards a Theocracy or a country led according to religious criteria? Do we have some ayatollahs without turbans around here?” he cannot help wondering.

Journalist Cristian Tudor Popescu

Mircea Badea in his tv program on Antena3 In Gura Presei (In the Mouth of the Press) ends up criticizing Teodorescu posing as God’s spokesman communicating what God prefers, as well as the hypocrisy of many of the “friends” who while promote humility and modesty lead very opposite life styles. Another well known tv commentator Dragos Patraru on TVR1 Starea Natiei choses to dismiss video and song as a basically unnecessary exercise in pretentiousness and lack of commonsense.

On the other side, supporters of Teodorescu’s song can be found also in somewhat alternative Orthodox environments. Father Savatie Bastovoi, a Moldovan Orthodox monk, poet and theologian did like the videoclip: “the fact that all these people, whom I knew were searching for God, finally found him in a small place, can only make me happy.” He also goes as far as suggesting that the great emphasis put on the importance of building a monumental Orthodox Cathedral paves the way to the actual realization of the Mosque project, following the first steps taken on last July with the Turkish government.

In more general terms, Teodorescu’s supporters – mostly among NGOs activists and progressive environments – seem to appreciate his courage and claim that his is perhaps the most serious public debate about the Salvation Cathedral yet:  high time people expressed their views freely.

Among the “friends” is folk singer Laura Lavric who declared to DC News: ” I answered Dan Teodorescu’s invitation with pleasure and I did not expect criticisms would reach such a controversial point. God can be found wherever you seek, both in a small church and in a large church. Those who comment and say that this song is an affront against the Church and against God, should think about the thefts of thousands euros that were made: that is the real sin before God. I do not think Dan Teodorescu brought any offense with his song. He did as he felt. I repeat, I would have never imagined that we could get this far! I do not think it is a mistake to express one’s deepest feelings. As a believer, I think God can be found anywhere. But if it is a large church, I do not believe God wants opulence. It is not a manifesto against the People’s Salvation Cathedral. I repeat: I never imagined it could all get this far. And know what, are we talking about churches? God can be found also in a corner of your very home.”

Folk singer Laura Lavric

“The message contained in this song is simple commonsense, I cannot believe that it triggered such harsh reactions”, declares Teo Trandafir, a well known show woman. Again, “commonsense” is the keyword everybody use when commenting on this song but behind it a whole range of different attitudes and mentalities seem to coexist – at time, even conflict -, in today’s Romanian society.

Welcome Side Effects

Meantime, from the Patriarchy, a week ago Father Vasile Bănescu made a surprising announcement: “In the last few days, as a response to Despre Smerenie video, online donations to build the Cathedral have skyrocketed to 15 thousand Lei per day.”

Bucharest, building site of the People’s Salvation Cathedral, close to People’s Palace, built by Ceausescu in the Eighties.

April 19, 2016
My Take – Nicolae and Elena’s folded pajamas
I have recently had the opportunity to visit two highly symbolic scenes of the Romanian past finally open to public view. There I could take my fair share of snapshots but more than that ordinary booty, I came back home with the feeling that I had added two crucial pieces to my Romanian puzzle. This kind of connect-the-dots game has taken me first to Palatul Primaverii in Bucharest and then to the Muzeul Comunismului in Târgoviște, a town 80 kilometers (50 miles) northwest of the capital.

Part One: Primaverii Palace, Bucharest

The Primaverii (Spring) Palace opened its doors for the first time in March 12th, twenty-six years after the fall of the regime. It is the place where the Ceaușescus – Nicolae, Elena Ceaușescu and their offspring, Valentin (the only survivor of them all, living away from the limelight), Zoia and Nicu – had resided since the mid-60s to the very last days of December 1989.

Ten o’clock Saturday morning on March 19th, an official guide takes us – about fifteen visitors – through the Palace rooms. The tour, for the time being, is only available in Romanian. The guide is a young tall chap wearing a dark suit and looking on us with a disquietingly android look. He seems programmed to flood us with information on irrelevant details about precious alabaster vases, Murano chandeliers, tapestry, indeed any single piece of decoration, furniture, artwork, steering well away from any form of historical information. Maybe the historical narrative is given for granted, as all my fellow visitors are locals: they are supposed to know the whole story already, no matter if among us there are also few millennials who had not even been born yet in 1989, someone must have told them something somehow.

I really value the opportunity to roam this 80-room residence, which includes a cinema, a monumental swimming pool and an impressive dressing room, together with Romanian citizens. Through their very eyes I can experience the unveiling of a location kept hidden from them for so long and about which so much has been said and written about: the stories within the story.

While we all keep on taking our pictures (“no flash, please!”) as freely as we wish, it does sound as a reversal of fortune of kind, considered that this has been the very place where lack of freedom had been theorized and in a way emanated, maybe – allow me this flight of fancy -, after being pondered upon in the course of a chess game or the projection of a movie in the cinema room downstairs. All along the tour, as the opulent details in Nicolae’s, Elena’s, Zoia’s, Nicu’s and Valentin’s apartments are continuously underlined by our mechanical guide, impossible for me not to tune in with my mates’ silent gloomy thoughts, maybe even stifled anger, but also – unexpectedly enough – a shared sense of human piety. At least this is my perception when we access the Ceaușescu couple’s bedroom. Here indeed everybody’s attention has been drawn to the bridal bed with its ingenuous (or ingenious?) set-up of Nicolae and Elena’s folded pajamas, each shown on its side of the bed (who informed the curators which side was whose?). In fact, considering all, the couple’s room appears essentially basic if elegantly furnished, “probably nothing near the posh layouts of today’s Romanian oligarchs’ villas”, starkly comment a middle-aged couple who has stopped to talk with me after the tour has finished.

Part Two: Communism Museum, Târgoviște

The official name of the museum is The metamorphoses of a place of memory. First opened in September 2013, it operates as a unit of Curtea Domneasca Museum Complex of Târgoviște. Located in the former military unit at Târgoviște Railway Station, is the place where the Ceaușescu couple spent their last two days, stood trail and were executed by a firing squad on Christmas Day, 1989 at 2:45 p.m. According to statistics, foreigners more than locals have been visiting it, which is in line with my personal account: some of our local friends were quite surprised at the idea that we had chosen to visit “that place” instead of the Curtea Domneasca, considering that Târgoviște is one of the most historical cities in the country and the capital of Wallachia between the early 15th century and the 16th century.

This time my visit is quite solitary, we are just my husband and I, and only after a while two other visitors (a cameraman and a photographer) happen to show up in the small museum. We have been asking directions a couple of times in town, first to a photographer covering a social event in another public building, then to a cabman that condensed it all with a simple but effective phrase “Da, da, the place where boom! boom!” The guardian lady who sells us the tickets seems surprised to receive visitors on a rainy Sunday afternoon. It is unusually cold for being at the end of March, in fact our Catholic Easter Day. While observing the few rooms, the metal plates that Nicolae and Elena ate on, the beds where they slept, and the tiny improvised courtroom where they faced a hastily conducted trial before a special military tribunal, the place where they were fatally shot, I cannot help lingering on the infinite symmetries of chance: our visiting the place on an Easter Day, their being killed on a Christmas Day. Also, with fresh memories of my recent visit to the Primaverii Palace, I find myself considering the abyss between that scene synonymous with power and glory and this scene, so soaked up in physical humidity as well as in a sense of human helplessness.

So it is that I definitely choose to leave aside any attempt at any historical debate (revolution or a coup d’état etc.) to just absorb the deep magnetism of a place which for someone, at a certain point in time, has represented the final tragic scene of their human parable.
After more than twenty-six years, Palatul Primaverii open its doors

Manifest announcing the opening of the Palatul Primaverii, the official opening took place on March 12th 2016

Bucharest, visitors waiting admittance to Palatul Primaverii

Bucharest, Palatul Primaverii, main stairs

Palatul Primaverii, a cafeteria is also available inside the Palace.

Romanian citizens of all ages queued to visit the residential palace

Palatul Primaverii, the bridal bed

Elena’s shoes
Targoviste, entrance to the Muzeul Comunismului officially named The metamorphoses of a place of memory. First opened in September 2013, it operates as a unit of Curtea Domneasca Museum Complex of Târgoviște

The office of Colonel Andrei Kemenici, commander of the Military Base 01417. This room was chosen, in the morning of December 25th, as the place where the Ceaușescu couple were medically examined, a standard procedure, before the trial began

The historical debate (revolution or a coup d’état?) about the events of December 1989 who led to the fall of the Ceaușescu’s regime is still in progress

Chairs for the Ceaușescu couple in the courtroom.

The room chosen for the trial by the Exceptional Military Court seen from the perspective of Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu. The ten-member tribunal (all military) was held on December 25th 1989, the trial was very brief, it lasted approximately an hour

A corner in the Chief of Staff’s Office, where the Ceaușescu couple spent their last three days and two nights.

The Chief of Staff’s Office, where the Ceaușescu couple spent their last four days and three nights, from the moment they were brought from Dambovita County’s Militia Inspectorate, in the evening of December 22nd, until the moment when they faced the trial and execution

The symbol of the Socialist Republic of Romania

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, the doorstep leading to the execution point

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, the door leading to the execution point

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, the sidewalk leading to the execution point

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, the execution wall from the perspective of the firing squad

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, the silhouettes of the executed bodies of Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu

Târgoviște, Muzeul Comunismului, plaque on the execution point
April 2, 2016
Interview – Franco Aloisio

Franco Aloisio arrived in Bucharest at the beginning of the 2000s, he was supposed to stay just for four months as an external advisor for an NGO. Fundatia Parada had been founded in 1996 by Miloud Oukili, a French-Algerian clown engaged in rescuing street children with the help of circus arts. Things went on differently and Franco wound up settling down in Bucharest and taking over from his friend Miloud the guidance of Parada . Today not only is Aloisio President of Fundatia Parada and Serviciul Apel – another NGO helping marginalized youth to access the work market -, but also sits as chairman of CIAO, the umbrella organization reuniting the thousands of Italian NGOs operating all over Romania.

How many and who are the children and the young population still living in the streets of Bucharest?

Talking about figures, compared to ten years ago, their number has considerably decreased: from about 5,000 at the beginning of the 2000s they have shrunk to some 1,200. Yet they are still too many. At the beginnings of the 2000s you could breath enthusiasm and a new air of opportunity in Bucharest. That optimism faded when Romania entered into Europe in 2006: the focus shifted on economic targets while the social issues seemed to be under control. In fact, the 2008 world crisis took us all unprepared and new social conflicts emerged. The restrictive measures taken by the Emil Bloc governments – public salaries cut by 25% and TVA increased up to 24% – caused many vulnerable families to shift below the poverty line and get some of them to become homeless. So they got to share the destiny of the first generation of street children who by then had become parents of a second generation of street children. All along, other children and adolescents have been arriving to Bucharest from the poorest provinces of the country, escaped from difficult family situations or from local orphanages, undetected by social protection filters.

Can you sketch an identikit for these kids?

They usually come from very poor family background. When I say poor I do not necessarily mean economically. More often it is a poverty in human relations where alcoholism, physical violence, forms of abuse are involved. Surely enough, economic poverty cannot but throw oil on the fire.

How much of the street children phenomenon can be seen as a consequence of Ceausescu’s demographic policy?

Almost zero connection to that. The problem erupted in the aftermath of December ’89. The collapse of the communist society provoked a total disorientation in the established social order while all the 90s were characterized by a general power vacuum and total incapacity if not disinterest in tackling the insurgent problem. In Ceausescu’s time street children simply could not exist, if only for a matter of social control. Children from poor families were grown in state institutions, if according to selective criteria.

At that time there existed different types of orphanages. Surely enough, children with handicap and physical problems were marginalized, the consequence of which are still detectable today. Nevertheless, we cannot blame Ceausescu for the recent scandals involving orphanages and lager-style public institutions maltreating children as of 2016: rather, that is an alibi covering a deeper mentality issue still affecting today’s society. The same applies for the AIDS spreading phenomenon: today we cannot blame Ceausescu for that, as HIV-positives are mostly less than 26-year-old. In general terms, Ceausescu is still often blamed in a way to raise any responsibility from the current political system.

What is affecting these children’s lives most now, compared to ten years ago?

Indifference is what affects them most now. The alarming aspect is that now in Romania street children are no longer perceived as a social emergency at all. To the point that many people consider it a problem belonging to the past. More likely, over the last twenty-six years people have got used to these children’s ghostly presence. They are seen sniffing their aurolac from plastic bags at the exit of certain metro stations, kind of accepted as part of the urban landscape: which makes them invisible. As it were, a collective suppression has been underway, exempting the Romanian society from any liability along the whole responsibility chain: from the police to the city administrators, from the health system to the social assistance, the school system and – last but not least -, the private citizens. The reason is quite plain: reckoning the existence of a street children issue would destabilize the whole social system and force the collective conscience to think better. Because, as Miloud used to say, “street children do not exist, only children forgotten in the streets by adults. And we are those adults.”

What is the role of NGOs in facing the problem today?

The sad thing is that the street children issue neither seems to appeal to Corporate Social Responsibility projects – all the less so in the case of Romanian companies. The reason, as we pointed out, is that by reckoning their existence, they should also recognize that the social body is sick and needing some radical change. Completely different, say, is the case of handicapped children, for whose unfortunate conditions only fate is to be blamed for. Cynically enough, they can make quite a strong emotional impact on public opinion, without involving any social self criticism.

As a result, at present only three NGOs are actively working to provide street support in Bucharest: Samu Social, mainly focussed in assisting homeless, alcoholics and adults with mental problems, ARAS (Asociatia Romana AntiSIDA) providing assistance to HIV-positives and us, Fundatia Parada, taking care of street children and at-risk youth.

Another alarming aspect is the massive impact drug addiction is having on the youngest ones living in the streets today. Starting from 2005-2007, we have been registering an impressive growth in hard drugs consume. By now almost half the street children population is drug-addicted and HIV and hepatitis positives. The wider picture, according to the official data from the National Antidrug Agency and Ministry of Health, shows that drug-addict in Bucharest are 20,000, many more than just street people.

How is the welfare system in Romania coping with all this?

In theory, the Romanian welfare system is enforced and shaped according to the very same set of rules applying in any other European State, in practice it is still quite behind. Apart from budget cuts which have been affecting the third sector in every other European State, what is lacking here which could make a difference, is the social pressure coming from an active civil society. As it is now, authorities are never much urged to take effective action and just get along.

At a closer look though, the Romanian welfare system faces two other major problems: very low salaries and lack of a networking system. Like in all the public sector – but all the more so here – welfare sector employees are paid extremely low salaries, no matter their educational level and professional skills. A brilliant post-graduate and specialized operator may earn about 1,100 RON (280 USD, Ed.) per month, which is disqualifying and causing a serious drain towards more profitable jobs, often letting the less capable and motivated cover key roles in important offices. Also, the lack of a networking approach makes the whole scene very patchy, with effective performances reached only on a case by case basis.

In 2016 Romanians are having both local elections in springtime and general elections in November, would you expect any major change may come along with that?

The revolution people had been dreaming since the collapse of the Ceausescu’s regime, is late in taking a real shape as steps to be taken are still too many. In fact, by now a sense of disillusion for a real change has been prevailing in the Romanian society. The recent street protests following the tragic incident at the Collective night club in Bucharest on last November took to the streets thousands of people, actually proving the biggest street protest in Romania since the 1989 Revolution. Yet, it is difficult to understand the final direction such a large social movement may take, containing as it does a whole range of different protesters. Surely enough, most of them belong to the young educated middle class working in international companies, tired to be oppressed by an incompetent and corrupt political social class.

For sure, the current political system is no longer sustainable and most probably also the large and very active diaspora will have a say on this.

Going back to Parada, what form of collaboration do you have with the public institutions?

We are officially accredited like any NGO operating on the territory. In order to work you need a legal recognition – all the more so for a charity like us, where you may happen to press charge on behalf of our beneficiaries. As for financial aspects, we rely only on our own means.

Also, in order to access European funds – which represent one of our main financing tools – you need to be accredited to the competent sector. In more general terms, our relation with the public institutions depends mostly on individual relations.

What about Parada’s relation with Public Order and the Police?

It is a bivalent approach, which often makes each other stand on two naturally opposite sides. People living on the street may happen to infringe the law. We tend to protect our beneficiaries because we have a wider picture of their personal situation and what may appear as punishable act maybe the result of a deeper discomfort. Actually we are particularly careful when our boys and girls are blamed for faults and crimes which they did not actually commit, as it quite often happens that the become the easiest scapegoats. Or, by effect of the very penal code. The alternative sentences foreseen by the Romanian Penal Code, like probation cannot be granted if you live in the street: maximum penalty must apply! And unfortunately, it is a vicious circle… In fact, the Police cannot but be tolerant: in Romania discomfort areas are still so large that the public order cannot but widen the net of justice, like it happens with the abusive use of the electric power.

What are Parada most urgent needs?

Like for any other NGO, fundraising is our main concern, as over the last few years the whole sector has suffered major cuts. Most of the money comes from projects (with Unicef, Global Fund, European Union, etc.), then CSR, artistic activities – which are our best communication tool – donation campaigns like 5×1000 in Italy, and 2% in Romania, where private citizens can chose to donate a fixed percentage on their annual taxes to a non profit organization. In Romania this is still a relatively new tool which needs to reach out: another crucial battle for the Romanian civil society to fight in the near future.

Anything to say to our readers?

If you are in Bucharest, come to visit us: you would be most welcome. You can also join a Bucharest tour in English with Sergiu, one of our former beneficiaries now working in partnership with Interesting Times Bureau, a project developed by a non-profit organisation promoting urban arts, local history and businesses. Sergiu will be eager to take you around to make you understand more about the city and its parallel worlds. Careful though, he won’t propose you a “poverty tour”, rather he will be glad to share with you his life story, an experience which can be mutually enriching. His tour also includes a visit to our Daily Centre in Strada Bucur. A tour against indifference, in a way ;).

Watch a tv interview in Romanian to Franco Aloisio

Watch the trailer of the Italian film PA-RA-DA (2008) by Marco Pontecorvo

Read Got a Cigarette? A true story by Sergio Dalla Ca’ di Dio

March 20, 2016