Year: 2016

True Stories/ Got a cigarette?

by Sergio Dalla Ca’ di Dio

by Valerio Contini

The registry officer stares at me as if I were a Martian. “What do you mean he lives in a tunnel?!” I look back at her as amazed as she. My eyes speaks my words, “Are you kidding me?“

In a city where some 2,000 people live in the streets, where every morning you can see sleepy boys and girls clutching their aurolac bags emerging from sewer covers which lead to underground tunnels along the hot water pipelines, that kind of question sounds to me either a mockery or the effect of a situation like “Excuse me, I have been stranded on a desert island for forty years and I have just come back”.

If it is a civil servant to say that, it makes it all the more discouraging. I do my best to show my diplomatic side but I realize that sarcasm prevails: “Madam, I gather that you have not realized yet that here in Bucharest many people do not happen to have a house. Some of them occupy abandoned apartments downtown, some others find their shelters in tunnels underground. You know, wintertime nights get very cold and staying in the streets is not that healthy”.

In hindsight my reply has not proved to be the best option. Talking about street people, which means “bringing up the problem” and not just ignoring them like most of people do, makes me scarcely agreeable. To make things worse, I speak with my strong Italian accent seasoned with many grammar mistakes, I wear a football training kit (we have trained quite early in the morning) urgently needing a shower, I have swooped into the police office together with a guy without a foot, badly dressed and dirty – what people would call a “boschettaro” – to apply for an identity card for him.

I guess they consider me a fool. Or someone really really stupid.

I. looks at me shaking his head meaning “I knew it would end up like that!”. My sense of frustration grows. We are almost peers, even though he looks as old as my father. I have never really known how he lost his foot, everybody saying he has always been like that since they have known him. Yet I have always been amazed at how fast he can move up when he has a goal to reach; at times not only does he keep at pace but also seems to slow down a bit not to make me feel tired. Nor have I really understood how many wives, girlfriends and sons he has left around town. Over the four times I have been driving him along to offices for red-tape matters, he has mentioned me at least five among them – as a nevasta, sotia, prietena or femeia (wife, girlfriend or “woman”, in the most intimate sense of the term), and each with copilul, the child, along with them. I believe that he means that he is father to them all. For sure I know that I. has lived on the street most of his thirty-four years. First in an orphanage, then in a tunnel. “I have never had a document”, he says. I don’t know whether to believe him. “And I have lost my birth certificate.” That I believe. I know well that he does not have an identity card, no matter whether he has lost it or he has never really got one: without an identity card you are a perfect Mister Nobody and forget obtaining medical assistance, medicaments, disability pensions, a job. The point is that to release an identity card you must provide a residential address supported with some other document: a rental contract, a utility bill…

“And how can I be certain that he really stays in that tunnel there?

Frustration takes hold of me once more. I strive not to give in to sarcasm again. “Madam, allow me ten minutes and I will drive you there, take you down into that tunnel, so that you can see the mattress, the sheets and the bag with glue that he used last night before falling asleep”. It was meant to be collaborative, it sounded like a challenge. The policewoman begins to search for new excuses. She scribbles down a name on a sheet of paper, of someone higher in rank, suggesting us to come back the following day and speak to him. I protest, we both protest in a civil but firm tone, which does not make any difference. We cannot but accept the situation and we begin to get mentally ready to face it all over again the following day. Still, luck sometimes does not lie just around the corner but even closer, like behind a door.

The local police officer gets into the room while we are collecting photos, filled-in application forms and various documents. I look at the certificate declaring that I. has been a Parada beneficiary for the past ten years: the red nose on its heading in mocking contrast with the imperious attitude of workers there.

“Buna I., ce faci aici? (hi I., what are you doing here?) the policeman asks. I. smiles and explains to him the reason for our visit there. The man looks at the woman in charge and says “sure! I have been knowing him for the last 15 years, at least! He has always been down that tunnel in front of the hospital. You cannot even imagine how many cigarettes he has been scrounging from me!”

I burst into a laughter which puts an end to any residual chance of becoming friend with the officer in charge, but I know too well what it is like for a smoker to meet a street boy: how many chaps I have seen having whole packets consumed once inside the threshold of Parada Day Center.

But now I haven’t even had the time to think “lucky me, I quit smoking!”, as I usually do when I hear of smokers loosing tens of cigarettes, that the policeman has offered to sign a declaration saying that I. lives in that specific tunnel. “That is just fair”, I ponder, “after all that has been his home over the last fifteen years.” Yet, “how can we accept to call a tunnel home?”, for which I cannot find any reasonable answer.

The woman’s voice wakes me up from my private wondering, her tone is outraged, “you should come back tomorrow to withdraw the identity card.” I. smiles, the policeman too, I thank both of them, the policeman and the woman, her eyes asking me “but who makes you do that?”

The policeman has already left the office. I. hugs me and thanks me. Then outside, he thanks the policeman with great warmth. The officer has mild eyes and advices him to behave well. “For sure boss, God forbid…See you soon”. We reach the car, I. with his single foot pacing up at double speed. Suddenly he stops and takes three steps back. “Boss, boss!” The policeman turns around “Yes, I.?”

“Aveți o țigară?” (got a cigarette?)

Lucky me, I quit smoking.

read the Interview to Franco Aloisio

Photo by Gianluca Cecere
Volunteers’ Coordinator at Fundatia Parada Romania, Sergio Dalla Ca’ di Dio has now moved to Erbil, Iraq, to work on a project for another Italian NGO. The many stories he has dedicated to his direct experience with the Parada beneficiaries are both pages of an intimate diary and a lively report making us reach out on invisible lives. Sergio is still very much in contact with his “Parada Family”.

March 16, 2016
Interview – Lucian Georgescu

Lucian Georgescu teaches creative writing and screenwriting at UNACT, Bucharest and is visiting professor at Scuola Holden, the creative writing school founded in Torino by Alessandro Baricco. He belongs to the first post-communist generation and he is a member of UCIN ((Romanian Filmmakers Association), SRN (Screenwriters Research Network) and EACWP (European Association of Creative Writing Programs). Interested in road movies, he is the author of a book about Jim Jarmusch (On the Road with Jim, 2007). In 2011 he wrote, produced and directed a film a tragicomic road movie The Phantom Father. Some of his contributions can be found in The Road movies of the New Romanian Cinema (Studies in Eastern European Cinema, vol. 3, no.1, UK 2012 Intellect Ltd. pp 23-40), The Point of No Return – Cinematic Expressions of a Nation’s Altered State of Mind (in East, West and Center: Reframing Post-1989 European Cinema, Edinburgh University Press, 2015). Lucian is currently working at a A Subjective History of Cinema Told in Road Movies.

Lucian, what is Cinepub?

Cinepub is the only legally free online channel dedicated to the Romanian Cinema. It represents a unique opportunity both for cinefils and for young Romanian artists. Considering the current distribution system, the risk for many emerging film-makers is that their works never get to reach their audiences at all.

Cinepub has chosen a very simple approach with little space for any critical apparatus, focus on films, each speaking for themselves…

That is correct. We intend to reach different kind of audiences, just like different kind of books find each their readerships, we let people chose what to watch and what to think of it. Our main intention is to showcase rather than analyze the New Romanian Cinema. In fact, the very name we chose for the project suggests A very empathic approach. Some twelve years back, at the very first editions of the TIFF (Transylvania Film Festival) – i.e. still far from it having become a mondane must-be event – Cinepub happened to be the name for a workshop I held as a non competitive section of the festival. The focus was totally on creating a space for young Non professionals to meet and make ideas circulate. I am glad to consider that some of that idealistic energy has been preserved.

Coming to the distribution issue, what is the role that Cinepub plays in promoting the new Romanian cinema (as well as the past one)?

During the communist regime some 4,000 cinemas were being run around the country; nowadays only some 40 are still operative, all the others having been transformed into restaurants, night clubs, supermarkets or just left into a state of total decay. Now cineplex and the commercial Mall model have taken over all the programming and distribution circuit, with almost no space left for any independent operator. Along with promoting new talents we dedicate great attention to the rediscovery of the great authors of the Romanian cinema. That is why we call 2016 the year of Mircea Danieluc, such an important figure in the history of our cinema: we will be programming 17 of his films. We may go as far as to say that we represent for Romanian cinema an operation of Corporate Social Responsibility: a totally new approach in our country.

Talking more specifically about the films, a recurring sense of tension between plain daily life and private expectations – often leading to a deep sense of frustration – can be perceived. Could we consider it a trait in the new Romanian cinema?

This is certainly not the place where to define the new Romanian cinema in depth, yet we may say that we are now experiencing a phase beyond surrealism, involving many similarities with neorealism. If we consider that the style is directed by the means and that a chronic lack of means – both financial and technical – affects the Romanian cinema, a new style is emerging. Among the contemporary directors, Cristi Puiu is one of those who really makes a statement in cinema for neorealism with its strong appetite for contemporary stories – so reminiscent of the neorealismo italiano and yet so tipically Romanian. By the way, we may go so far as say that even Aferim by Radu Jude, despite its apparent historical setting, can be read as a neorealistic film – which can prove a challenge of kind for a foreign audience, probably unable to catch all such subtle nuances…

A last question, my recurring one: how do you think we can trace a sufletul romanesc in the Romanian cinema?

Sufletul romanesc has nothing metaphysical to it: you can trace it back to Caragiale’s unique mix of irony and tragedy as well as to Ion Creanga’s spirit. Nor should we forget the importance of Dadaism’s Romanian roots as well as Cioran’s observation that Romanians never take themselves too seriously.

March 10, 2016
Cinepub.ro, a Site with a View
Cinepub communication campaign by GAV

Cinepub communication campaign by GAV

Cinepub Team with Lucian Georgescu, right, their motto is “Romanian Cinema Everywhere”

Domestic, by Adrian Sitaru, just one of the many interesting movies available in Cinepub
On last February 26th Cinepub.ro celebrated its first anniversary totaling 5,372.437 minutes – the equivalent of 10 years and 28 days – of Romanian cinema in streaming. To make that possible Lucian Georgescu and his team had been working hard for previous three years.

We must be very grateful to this energetic team, as Cinepub.ro is the only legally free online platform dedicated to the Romanian cinema. The films are available in streaming on AVOD platform ( Advertisement-supported Video on Demand). They are all Romanian productions and include documentaries, feature, shorts and animation. The project is engineered by GAV, a communication agency pioneering in cultural marketing in Romania in partnership with Google.

The site is bilingual Romanian/English while many films – especially the most recent ones – provide English subtitles. Cinepub obtains free rights in exchange for its curatorial work and – in some cases – protection against piracy. Its mission is to showcase the Romanian Cinema and promote films otherwise cut out from mainstream distribution channels. In fact, the more successful a Romanian film is the more their World Sales Agents tend not to agree on free online streaming outside Romania, but Cinepub keeps on working hard to obtain as much as they can and every new Thursday at 20.30 Bucharest time a premiere movie is launched.

Lucian Georgescu is very proud of his “creature” dedicated to all film lovers and aiming to bring to the audiences not only Romanian films of established authors, but also independent productions made by young passionate beginners very unlikely to find other distribution channels.

Check out more about Lucian Georgescu and his passion for cinema in our interview.
March 10, 2016
My Take – Mărțișor, and March Is the Sweetest Month

These days a Mărțișor is pinned down on my jersey as my Romanian experience has been producing a major change in my mental attitude

March is the sweetest month in Romania. Here springtime is a deeply felt moment in the calendar year: climate change allowing, it pops up after long frozen winters melting away any form of hardship. On Mărțișor day, March 1, Romanian women of all ages are presented with spring tokens called Mărțișor by male friends and beloved ones, to which they reply with a smile and a kiss on cheeks, instinctively aware – and proud – of their crucial role in nature’s life cycle.

Mărțișor are tiny adornments tied with a red and white entwined cord. They belong to a very ancient Romanian tradition with roots back 8,000 years. The red cord symbolises the winter and the white one the spring, which other symbols of joy and good luck such as a four-leafed clove or a heart are tied by. It is also said that white and red are strong amulets against evil eye and a token of purity and innocence. The Mărțișor is worn for a week or two on outer garments.

These days a Mărțișor is also pinned down on my jersey, which I have not been doing as a form of acquiescing to a local habit but as the effect of a major change occurred in my attitude. Let me try to sum it up in three steps.

1 What Am I Doing Here?

Admittedly, when I lived in Italy I never used to be a keen observant of Woman’s Day rites on March 8. Rather, any all-female celebratory dinner made me feel bored and, if attending, I would invariantly end up with the same old question: “What Am I Doing Here?”, keeping at a safe distance from any form of Indian-reserve syndrome having always been my major concern.

2 Us vs. Them

Then we moved to Romania and my perception changed. I packed and took along also some bits of cultural bias, like the Us vs. Them commonplace: Us Italian vs. Them Romanian Women. On my first flight from Milano to Cluj Napoca I started taking notes on every Romanian woman onboard. Far from realizing that I was just contemplating my mirror images: women flying back home, încet încet/ slowly slowly regaining their native background, so allowing themselves to drop their exotic masks to recover their original selves. Anca, Camelia, Adina: no more the foreign wife or fiancée, the saleswoman, the waitress, the badante, the nurse, the businesswoman, the hairdresser, the gorgeous East European beauty, but just themselves as daughters, sisters, mothers, lovers, singles. In fact, at that time, as aware as I was of the risk of generalization, I could not help assimilating them all to a unique threatening Romanian female type. To serve my prejudices I could even indulge in tracing back some of their proud beauty – long thin legs, fiery eyes – to their Dacian ancestors so powerfully outlined in the relief scenes on Trajan’s Column in Rome. Take its scene XLV: nude and bound men shown being tortured by women, the latter traditionally identified as Dacian women (war widows?) maltreating captured Roman soldiers. Also back to present times, Romanian women seemed quite successful in conquering the hearts of a number of “our” Western European men…

Step 3 – The Reckoning

Since that first naive flight to Romania I have had the opportunity to unpack my heavy luggage and finally get rid of whole sets of shameful prejudices. Now that I have begun to master Romanian, I can get closer and closer to the people and their very thoughts. Which, in fact, for an Italian, are not so abysmally distant. By now most of my acquaintances and even friends happen to be Romanian women of various ages and cultural background: from the artist to the hairdresser, the school teacher or the entrepreneur, the doctor and the journalist. I realize now that we have so much more in common than what would make us different. So, no room left for prejudices, just a healthy sense of challenge due to their many talents: their inborn sense of femininity, their resilience, their pride and their will to fight for a better future. I should stop here not to incur in another set of dangerous generalization and just chose to celebrate the great news: Spring is coming! Happy Mărțișor to us all.

March 2, 2016
Story – Earth in Your Hand

This visual story takes us to Guşteriţa/ Hammersdorf in the heart of Transylvania. A district of Sibiu since 1950, it is one of the oldest Transylvanian Saxon settlements in the area still preserving its original typical rural structure.

It features Earth in Your Hand, a 2004 documentary by Eva Stotz, a German filmmaker telling us an apparently simple story made with few words and silent scenes. In fact a whole world on the brink of disappearance is evoked. It begins with a close observation of the daily lives of the few Saxon inhabitants who did not follow the German diaspora soon after the collapse of Ceausescu’s regime and winds up wondering about the true meaning of “earth and motherland”. Stotz is interested in reporting stories of people striving to survive the impact of globalization, keen on recording different forms of human resistance. In a way she looks for clues of hidden social tensions, her narrative investigating the inner energy places and people emanate through their apparently plain existence.

More than a decade has gone by since the documentary was shot, changes have been occurring even in Guşteriţa and its older inhabitants have been joining their ancestors in the local graveyard. Yet I believe that the spirit of place is still there, as compelling and timeless as ever.

Between the collapse of the Ceausescu regime in December 1989 and the spring of 1990, half a million indigenous so-called “Saxons” fled Romania for West Germany. It was the most astonishing, and little reported, ethnic migration in modern Europe. In the seven towns and 250 villages of Saxon Land in southern Transylvania, no less than 90% of the German-speaking population packed its bags and committed eight centuries of history to memory. They drove west to a country few of them knew, enticed by the notorious “return to the fatherland” speech of the German politician, Hans-Dietrich Genscher.

Continue to read The forgotten Saxon world that is part of Europe’s modern heritage by Simon Jenkins, The Guardian, 2009

February 24, 2016
Interview – Pavel Constantin

Football was his first love, cartoons his foremost. He belongs to the generation of those who back in 1989, the year zero of contemporary Romania, were the age of today’s millennials. Born in Bălușeni, historic Moldova, in 1951, after having been an animation film maker, Pavel Constantin has become an established freelance cartoonist and book illustrator. His cartoons have participated in a number of international exhibitions and published in newspapers and magazines in his country and abroad.

From football player to cartoonist: which is the hidden thread in your story, above all where does your creativeness spring from?

I believe that each of us have their great passion in life. For me it was football. It all started when I was eight and lasted until I was thirty-five. I used to play in Aripile Bacau, a B Division team. From that passion I inherited something that has followed me in my drawing activity: a sense of fight strongly needed in any form of competition. Yet my biggest passion will ever be Maria Sa – Caricatura, His Majesty Cartoon.

What kind of studies did you attend, what was your background?

I did my studies in Supersonic Aviation. I also worked for seven years in an airport. Then I studied several years in Plastic Arts. I owe much to some great artists who taught me how to draw, while my family has always been providing me with strong support and motivations to pursue my artistic activity.

In Ceausescu’s days were there “official” cartoons, was any form of state satire feasible if not openly admitted? Or, despite the harsh censorship, could cartoonist schools survive in any clandestine form?

The spirit of satire and caricature could exist very well also during the Ceausescu’s era. It was not that difficult to defy censorship. As a matter of fact we did experience frustration for our lack of freedom of expression. Yet, paradoxically enough, that very fact did help us to figure out ways to develop our projects even better: we needed to draw with more subtlety and cleverness so that the men of the Cenzura could not grasp our hidden meanings.

When the regime collapsed you were already well in your thirties. How did this major political change affect you?

It was good when Ceausescu’s regime collapsed because a great number of newspapers and magazines sprang up. Over many following years I have been collaborating with a number of them: Adevarul, Azi, Bursa, Cotidianul, Monitorul, or magazines like Plai cu Boi, PRO TV Magazin, etc. Nowadays I have no more collaborations of that kind because many publications have disappeared due to the rise of online press, instead I have been contributing more and more with the international press.

Looking back at those days can you remember which were your expectations as a creative professional and how much of them have been really fulfilled?

After the decline of many newspapers and magazines I did experience a strong sense of frustration and disappointment.

Which were your motivations to be a cartoonist then and which now, if any different?

I had motivations both then and now. Before 1989 I experienced a great sense of satisfaction when my cartoons appeared in the press, even though for very little money. After 1989 I have begun to be published in the international press. It is another kind of satisfaction, because before 1989 foreign publishers did not venture to publish cartoonists from the communist area. Another great source of satisfaction is that now we are unconditionally accepted, we can participate in any kind of international cartoon context. Even more than that, my works have been drawing the attention of some art galleries, interested in organizing solo exhibitions in their venues.

Do you think your perception of contemporary Romania differs from that of the younger generations of caricaturists, if so how?

I like to believe that I am a good patriot and that I love my country very much. For that reason my cartoons never “hurt” the spiritul romanesc. In the national press I do critically approach topical issues like theft, corruption, lack of respect for forest heritage and environment protection in more general terms and so on.

Your cartoons convey a subtle sense of criticism towards the country’s establishment. How do you place yourself in the contemporary political satire landscape?

Unintentionally a cartoonist may even convey a favorable message for their country. Yet that kind of approach belongs to other genres of publishing skills while a cartoon in its very essence is meant to criticize and raise awareness rather than praise.

What kind of followers do you have, in which proportion Romanian or foreigners?

I have never been much involved in finding out nor has it ever proven a concern to me.

What do you believe are the key elements which still need to be developed and communicated more effectively abroad in promoting your country?

In order to be promoted both at home and abroad, I believe that the key elements are always hard work and aiming at perfection. In our specific field, it means contributing with our drawings and “graphic metaphors”. In fact, we need support to be successful in that. For instance, I am personally grateful to ICR (Istitutul Cultural Roman) for having supported all the expenses for me to participate to a cartoon exhibtion in Haifa, Israel, where I received a prize. I might have also gone on my own expenses but I appreciated their generosity and strong will to support a Romanian cultural activity. Now may the ICR office in Rome ever support a similar project so to arrange a solo cartoon exhibition there?

Do you believe in a suflet romanesc, if so, can you try to define it for us?

I believe that Sufletul Romanesc exists and is unique. It must be looked for especially in traditions and folklore but not only. We need to be very mindful so that we do not lose it for good.

Do you consider yourself more of a Romanian citizen or a European one?

I used to feel like being only a Romanian citizen, but through my collaboration in most recent years I believe I have become now a European citizen.

You were already an adult when Ceausescu’s regime collapsed, how much do you believe has actually changed and if so, with what kind of effects?

After Ceausescu’s regime collapsed I won my total freedom of expression. That was a major achievement. I also believe that for many Romanians quality of life got much better. In fact, democracy has been producing may positive things but unfortunately also bringing about a range of negative effects. I do not need to add more because that is clearly visible to everybody.

Where – if anywhere – would you draw the line over the past 26 years which separates the old from the new Romania? Has new Romania already been born?

A division line does exist between old and new in politics and even in the economic situations of each family, like it happens in so many different fields. Yet I refuse to believe that, as far has the sufletul romanesc is concerned, anyone may draw a line, an actual line between a before and after: can anyone draw a line on the surface of a river or on a flowing water source?

What is in store for 2016, which will be the highlights, both at a personal and national level?

I have great expectations for 2016 (local elections are due in Spring 2016, general elections Fall 2016, Ed.) but also for the years to come: the country should finally get rid of thieves and corrupt politicians who brought Romania back to the Middle Age. Essential to that process would be that all stolen property be duly reintegrated. Should that not happen, it would all have summed up to un teatru de doi lei, a two pennies’ worth show.

February 18, 2016
Soundtrack – Lautari from Clejani, the music inside!

Caught between the rejection of individuals and the acceptance of their culture, the Roma citizens are both discriminated against and cherished in the Romanian society: their ‘gypsy’ music, rituals, ways of dressing cannot but inspire and attract for their sense of joyfulness, freedom and creativeness.

In fact, the issue of the integration of the Roma people in the Romanian society is a very long story, here we chose to get only to Clejani, a small village in the South of Bucharest, where the amazing adventure of a group of Roma musicians, lautarii din Clejani, started some twenty years ago taking them across Western Europe and the USA. Johnny Depp having had also his minor role at it.

Two documentaries produced in 2001 tell the same story in slightly different ways. Taraf De Haïdouks – No Man Is A Prophet In His Own Land is directed by Elsa Dahmani, features English subtitles and is meant for an international audience. Lăutarii din Clejani – povestea ultimei generații is directed by Mihai Voinea and Alex Varninschi, produced by the newspaper group Gandul and speaks to the Romanian audience. Both provide a mine of information about the Lăutarii, a rich tradition of Roma musicians that contributed to flavor the lives of so many Romanians and that the impact of globalization is now threatening to force to silence for good.

February 11, 2016
Interview – Rechi Nashul
Owner of Reky Travel, Rechi Nashul is a young entrepreneur from Sibiu quite active in promoting Romania and especially his native Transylvania.

I first met Rechi in Rășinari, a Saxon village 13 km away from Sibiu. He was one of the organizers of an Electric Camping/ Full Moon Picnic event. Rechi and everybody at the party made me feel completely at home. Curiously enough, among the participants was also Tudor Giurgiu, the initiator and president of the Transilvanian Film Festival, who the previous night had presented in Piata Mare presiding the Sibiu Festival. The food, the music and the full moon completed the scene. Three years since then and I am glad to dedicate the first RWD interview to him, who has never stopped committing in a number of engaging projects.

You belong to that young generation that has chosen to invest their energies in Romania instead of leaving the country in search of different opportunities. What made you do that?

I discovered very early that our region has a lot to offer. Transylvania and Sibiu are nicely located between the Carpathian Mountains. In the highlands surrounding us there is a unique cultural landscape with beautiful villages and rich natural and cultural heritage. If you have a passion in showing this to visitors the decision to stay here and live like anywhere else in Europe is not very hard. After 2000 the opportunities where everywhere so I just had to pick one up.

Can you perceive this kind of choice as a growing trend?

It is still a small trend but especially among the young couples and families I can see a lot who are chosing to stay or move here and enjoy a more quite livestyle but still be very active in developing their country. All you need is a good cause and you can easily find the means to achieve what you wish.

Can you tell us something about your field of activity?

We are living out of tourism, the so called Incoming Tourism. So we bring visitors from Austria, Germany and Switzerland on cultural and active trips in the region and show them what is worth seing, the small highlights of the less seen Romania.
Since 2008 we started organizing gastronomical events where we cook with the local communities and show their traditions, old recipes, local products, music and promote everything that belongs to the local heritage. We reached now twenty events in the rural area, one festival in Sibiu and many events in the cities across Transylvania, all of them with a total of some 3.000 participants per year.

Networking seems a key factor in your business model – if we may call it so – can you tell us about My Transylvania project, how it works and who it involves?

We started to cook with the local communities and in the beginning we had as participants young people from everywhere in Romania interested in developing the rural areas. Everyone has a small project, works for a tiny initiative and has very creative ideas. So it became a kind of a platform where we exchange information, celebrate each others’ results and promote sustainable development. There are three NGOs which are directly involved and about ten new partners each year. Every events we organise is meant to promote some new small business or initiative in the region.

What is actually meant by turism alternativ in Romania?

We don’t want to show what is already well known, we hope for our visistors to look for forgotten villages or remote areas. We tell the beautiful stories of the people we meet, eat together, listen to local music and celebrate our diversity. There is also a fight for less bureaucracy, authentic experiences cannot always be payed via a bank transfer and get invoiced for. The majority of the local producers don’t have a registration but as a physical person you cannot just be illegal. So we want to show that a lot of unexpected resources are there to be used.

Are your target clients only foreigners or also locals?

Some 40% of the visitors are young families and coming from cities around Romania and about 50% are foreigners with their residence in Romania. Only 10% are what one would call typical tourist from abroad.

What do you believe are the key elements which still need to be developed and communicated more effectively abroad in promoting your country?

There is a gap between the real Romania with its hidden beauties, most of them in the countryside, and the big highlights such as Dracula, Bucharest and cities in Transylvania. Beside the asphalted carways there is a different country, one full of rich culture and nice natural landscapes.
The gastronomy, the traditional agriculture, the nice traditions and interesting stories of local personalities are not even mentioned in the promotion campaigns abroad.

Do you believe in a suflet romanesc (romanian soul) or your Transylvanian roots are much deeper and stronger?

I believe in being a European 😉 and enjoy having the history of three ethnic roots in my family. As a European I am happy that we can preserve a huge cultural diversity. For example, the local cuisine in our region has influences from a total of eleven European kitchens. Where can you find something similar?

Do you consider yourself more of a European citizen or a Romanian one?

I am a Romanian and a European citizen. Recognizing the value of the local culture instead of the global standardization is what I am fighting for. The nature and territory, the climate and people from the area give us a unique charactere in Europe, similarly to many other regions across the continent.

You were just a kid when Ceausescu’s regime collapsed, now have your own kid. With what kind of memories do you look back at that era, in what way – if ever – do you think it has affected you personally and with what kind of results?

I can now appreciate some of the good education and the tighter family connections we had in those times. Being a child then, I have only good memories. But I am very happy to live the present days with a lot of freedoms and personal liberty to pursue own’s goals and ideas.

Where – if anywhere – would you draw the line over the past 26 years which separates the old from the new Romania? Has new Romania already been born?

I think that a new Romania is on the way to be born. We have now the most acceptable political power in the last 26 years and a lot of people of the second generation (35-40 years) are thinking on changing the way everything works. If not by politics than through their work in NGOs.

What is in store for 2016, which the highlights?

There are small highlights in our agenda:
- We had in January for the first time a live cooking event outside Romania, in Vienna with Transylvanian Cuisine, to promote the Romanian gastronomy.
- We have this year eleven new villages in our programm, which had never before any kind of event going on there 😉 It should be good.
- There are also some new concepts in the gastronomy festival in Sibiu (Transilvania Gastronomica) for which we hope to be awarded a nice title for 2019, European Region of Gastronomy. In 2016 the award went to Catalunya in Spain and Minho in Portugal and for 2017 Lombardia and Arhus in Central Denmark where the winners.
- We hope to open an old barn as a gastronomy school in October, serving the small producers in the Southern Transylvania.
February 1, 2016

Planner – Transylvanian Brunch!

They search for old, forgotten recepies and cook them with the local communities, neighbourhoods or families in the villages. Therefore they use only local and seasonal products, making you experience the local culture during a hike and a tour of the village.

The private events which they offer are organized on demand, in the Hartibaciu & Tarnava region, between May and the middle of October. The prices and the minimum of participants are in the table below.

Transilvanian Brunch	EUR 25,- / Pers., Min. 30 – Max. 200 Pers.
Picnic in Cindrel	EUR 25,- / Pers., Min. 40 – Max. 200 Pers.
Flavours and sounds of Transylvania	EUR 25,- / Pers., Min. 30 – Max. 80 Pers.
Electric camping	EUR 35,- / Pers., Min. 50 – Max. 100 Pers.
Cina in natura	EUR 50,- / Pers., Min. 40 – Max. 80 Pers.

Check below the 2016 Agenda

AgendaTG_2016

Transilvanian Brunch

Find out more about Transylvania

Rechi Nashul

February 1, 2016

My Take – Murphy Vs. the Power of Empathy

Back in June 2015, one late Friday afternoon. In a hurry as usual, deep in Bucharest traffic again, after the nth touch & go on a new errand, I have left home my wallet. I realize it too late when I am at the cashier on the point of paying the knee protectors for my son who the following day is supposed to face a very tough basketball team in the national tournament. In fact, not only do not I have along with me a leu, but even any kind of identification document.

I badly need those knee protectors and I am even eager to leave my wedding ring as a guarantee but my offer is politely dismissed. I do my best to explain my urgent need to the handsome young shop owner who by now must have classified me as the Italian variant of the anxious mother. After few unfathomable minutes of silence, the verdict: “stați liniștita, relax, you can pass by tomorrow after the match, success!, good luck” With a trustful smile he delivers me his bag with the black knee protectors. “Foarte amabil“, very kind, is all I am able to say and I really mean it.

On the road again. Back in my car I am calculating the best route needed to reach in time the Federația de Baschet to pick up my son and one of his team mates. Fully aware of being driving without license nor any other identity card, I cautiously go ahead. And here comes Murphy’s Law epiphany: at Unirii a police patrol endowed with paranormal abilities signs me to a halt for a routine check. It is the very first time in almost three years in Romania that a police patrol ever stops me. Which is also the very first time I happen to drive without any kind of document. Which is what I find myself telling in Romanian – with a touch of pitiful self-irony – to the earnest young policeman who is silently watching me.

He requests, at least, the car papers, that being all I can actually show him – anything else having been left behind at home inside a bag along with my other son’s medical papers, after a medical check earlier in the day. “Had I been in your shoes in Italy, Domna, can you guess where would they have taken me at this point?” In my mind I can see the whole scene: a young Romanian found without documents taken straight to the closest police station. I uncomfortably nod, he soon after confirms: “La secția!” (to the police station). He then takes a step back from the window car to let me go and with a proud smile wishes me “Drum bun!”, safe journey.

Yes, Romania can defy Murphy’s Law, above all can make you feel amazed when less you expect it. I call it the power of empathy.

February 1, 2016