Back to Romania with gypsy music and flowers…
After visiting Ivanovo in Bulgaria, which was so beautiful, so awesome, we crossed the Friendship Bridge back across the Danube into Romania. We wanted to camp that night, but could find nowhere to put our tent. There were open, rolling fields in every direction. We ended up asking people to put our tent in their backyard. A man answered our knock and let us in without hesitating. A man who lived among women – with his mother, wife, and five girls, aged 2 to 20. There was loud gypsy music coming from the house when we rode up, and a lot of movement in the house. Steluta, aged 14, was bent over sweeping the dirt path with a tiny straw broom. We set up our tent, then went inside to watch TV with the family, at the behest of Steluta, who begged us to join them. The whole family sat in one room, watching “Ace Ventura, Pet Detective.” Except for the father, who sat on a kitchen chair, they all sat on the bed. There was nothing in the room for a family of seven except for one kitchen chair, one bed, and the TV in the corner. Bare floor, no decoration.
We talked with Steluta the next morning, who was eager to talk with us. She missed school that day to spend time with us. She dressed up for our photos. She picked me pink flowers from their garden, and her grandmother offered me purple ones. It was funny, I felt like we had a connection, even though she was just a child. She was a sweet thing.
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Bucharest:
We had 50 km. until the capital, on a busy road that truckers use from Eastern Europe to the Mid-East. But construction kept traffic down, so it wasn’t too bad for us. Funny note about the pit-stop: I asked to use the WC at the store where we bought groceries and the woman took me to the warehouse behind the store and pointed at a corner of the dirt floor. No outhouse, even!
Finding our way to the hostel in Bucharest was surprisingly easy, unlike in some other large cities. There were some gigantic potholes in the road, but other than that, the roads were not terrible. Unlike what one guidebook described as the worst roads in a European capital. The author obviously hadn’t been to Belgrade! Despite the main roads being navigable, I was surprised that many of the side roads off the principal boulevards were not paved. Like in the country. Horses and wagons shared the road with cars in the outer parts of the city outside of the historical center.
The Funky Chicken Guesthouse:
Our first stop in the city was at the Funky Chicken Guesthouse, where I was thrilled to have running water. That meant a warm shower, a toilet that flushed, and clean clothing! Despite its name, there was nothing at all funky about the Funky Chicken Guesthouse, which described itself as having hostile, smelly staff. Except for maybe some of the guests….
Like Alex, for example. He was our loud-breathing 25-year old roommate from Rhode Island. Upon the first meeting, he described himself as a “mental hospital escapee,” and after a few hours together, you didn’t doubt it. The most memorable thing about Alex is his psychotic laugh, which he oddly seems to be able to turn on and off like a fountain, at a moment’s notice. He works his way up to this loud, crazy laugh that his mom must be able to hear on the other side of the Atlantic. It is truly bordering on the insane.
One of the things that sent Alex off into a reel of laughter was when I mentioned that my dad and brother sometimes call Stephane “Pepe le Pu.” He was already laughing at the nickname “Froggy,” but “Pepe le Pu” really got him going. Another time, we were in the bedroom when a new couple came into the hostel. They were shown the adjoining room, and Alex sits up in bed, peeks his head around the corner, and works his way into one of his psychotic laughs that lasts for minutes on end. The reason: the guy looks like Pete Townsend from “The Who,” and as Alex said, we all know that Pete Townsend is a pedophile! Loud singing to the tune of “Behind Blue Eyes”: “No one knows what it’s like to be a pedophile / I’m in denial / Between boys’ thighs.” More laughter.
The first night, aside from sharing his story about being in the looney bin for a drug addiction/overdose (or delusional disorder, depending upon which story you believed), he also regaled us with stories about how he loves to mix alcohol and tranquilizers. This same story about loving to get high off of this magical elixir was a favorite theme of his. Also the first night, as we’re cooking dinner, he comes into the kitchen and smears yogurt all over his face and his arms. As a remedy for acne, he says! It’s very well-known, apparently…. Then he goes into the TV room, covered in yogurt, and ate the rest from the jar with a spoon!
And, his grandmother is a witch and casts spells on people. Windchimes harbor evil spirits. And to top it all off, he goes to the salon to get his nails polished and manicured with Elisa, the Italian university student who is living at the guesthouse. He was literally jumping up and down in anticipation when the day for the appointment arrived!
His interminable loud breathing (more of an annoyed sigh) thankfully stopped after the first day, or I might have found myself this very moment in a Romanian jail cell for homicide. Because he spends inordinate amounts of time in the bedroom. In bed about 18 hours a day, surely just bored because he wants to stay in Bucharest for ten months without engaging in any type of job or activity, simply because he can and he “doesn’t need to worry about money.”
A little psychotic, stand-offish at first, then friendly, loud. Definitely memorable. I wonder if he does and says some of the things he does because he wants to be remembered. Is it partly a show? In the end, a nice guy. He grows on you. We’re actually going to miss him.
The City:
Bucharest was not our favorite city. It left us unimpressed and rather indifferent. The city itself was not one that a tourist would go out of his or her way to see. Aside from the grotesque Palace of Parliament, there are few real monuments or sights to see. Not that a city is interesting simply because it has grand monuments. But we didn’t find any charming neighborhoods or cute little side streets or out-of-the-way places to visit or admire. The city was uninspiring.
The grand avenues were large and busy with traffic. Many of the side roads outside of the historical center were dirt roads, as in the country. On the main roads leading into town, you can still find horses and wagons, alongside of the motor traffic. Surprising, perhaps, for a European capital. It is this contrast that gives the city some interest, some originality. There is littly unity to the city. Stately Socialist edifices next to small, pretty Orthodox churches; back-to-back traffic and harrassed drivers on the large avenues and calm, tranquil side streets where neighbors sit conversing on the sidewalk; the boasting of the new-rich in the face of stark poverty.
You could spend enjoyable afternoons walking in the parks and gardens, haggling in the markets, or admiring the small churches. But what strikes you most as you walk around the city are its large avenues and its traffic.
The historical center is occupied by the wide Union Boulevard and crowned by the Palace of Parliament. In fact, one-third of the city-center was shamelessly razed to the ground and 70,000 inhabitants were forced to relocate to the large concrete apartments of the outer city to make way for President Ceausescu’s grand Civic Center. The destruction was done in 1979 during the darkest days of Ceasescu’s reign. His grand vision was to assemble all of the buildings of State in one place. The result was the permanent destruction of some of the most charming quarters of Bucharest, including hospitals, homes, churches, and synagogues. On the place of the old Republic sports stadium now stands the Palace of Parliament, a testament to the dictator’s megolomania. Originally known as the “People’s Parliament,” it was designed to house almost all of the functioning bodies of the Communist state. It is now home to the Romanian Parliament and a conference center. The Palace of Parliament is Romania’s most famous building, shrouded in rumor and mystery. It is also Romania’s largest, and the third largest building in the world, after the Pentagon in Washington (#1) and the Potala Palace in Lhasa (Tibet). It is impressive perhaps by its size, but not for any aesthetical value.
In the place of the homes and churches that once occupied the area is now the 5-km. long Avenue of the Victory of Socialism (since renamed “Union Boulevard”). All in the name of socialism and to satisfy the ego of a totalitarian dictator.
The most animated street in Bucharest is another huge avenue, called Victory Boulevard (in commemoration of the victory of the Romanian army against the occupying Turks). It is busy, and lined with large public buildings, hotels, and stores. All along the street, and indeed, throughout the city center, are signs above the roadway advertising the “Princess Casino.” The street ends at the enormous Victory Place, an imposing place of large banks, hotels, and of commerce.
The Easter Fair:
We happened to be in Bucharest the week before Easter and thus were lucky enough to be there during the annual Easter Fair. It was large – artisans sold everything from hand-painted eggs and ceramic pottery to carved wooden spoons to traditional clothing. All were dressed in traditional costume – embroidered vests over white flowing pants and tops with peasant sleeves. The men wore their tall, Russian-style hats. The eggs were an Easter favorite.
Music Festival to Celebrate Romania’s Entrance to NATO:
There was a big weekend-long music festival to celebrate Romania’s entrance to NATO. Local and national bands played on a stage in Revolution Plaza, the place where the revolution against Ceasescu started in 1989. From what we heard, the music was mainly commercial American covers and commercial Romanian music. The speakers were saturated, playing above capacity so that there was sometimes more static than music. It was nice for the general ambiance, though. Stephane said he felt like he had travelled back in time, to France in the early 90’s. The teenagers and 20-something’s were wearing T-shirts and jackets from heavy metal bands such as Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Pantera. He was right. Almost everyone seemed to be sporting heavy metal wear, black leather, and chains.
Aside from the music, Stephane remarked that there was a notable absence of beer. I hadn’t noticed. For several thousand people, there was just one small stand selling coke and chips. No one was eating or drinking, though. Stephane thought it was a shame – not very festive. I didn’t think it was so terrible. It brought people together to celebrate a big moment in their country’s history.
We watched the TV news regarding the entrance to NATO of Romania and Bulgaria. It was a big moment….The Bulgarian minister looked like he was going to cry….