Romania
What is the real Romania?
I don't know. I've only been here a week.
I expected to see a lot of crumbling building, decrepit factories, children sitting on the street begging, old women crying, crazy driving, Art Nouveau architecture and a land of paradoxes and contradictions.
Was I right?
Yes, in a way.
I guess the best way to imagine Romania is to look at my "real" Romania picture. The vestiges of Communism are there. Not hidden, but not in the forefront either. I sat on that terrace for four hours with some friends, just looking around the Piata. It's beautiful. And then I noticed the apartment block behind the buildings.
You don't have to travel far to see burned out, falling down architecture. The "stereotypical" building picture was taken 10 metres behind the Piata Unirii.
Children have interrupted every outside meal I've had in order to beg for money. All we can do is ignore them. Adults and children alike walk around tables with cards announcing that they're deaf-mutes and placing annoying musical keychains on them in hopes that a patron will buy them.
This makes me think of two things:
a) They must be deaf-mutes because otherwise, they wouldn't be able to stand the annoying music (in the case of yesterday, a musical stuffed animal playing "Kiss Kiss Kiss" by the Venga Boys)
b) Calling out "Va rog" (please) to them as they walk past to see if they really are deaf mutes. Yes, this is mean. However, they are the best dressed "beggars" in town. New sneakers, clean clothes, temporary tattoos, nicely arranged hair...
I've seen teens and adults sniffing glue from bags. I was scared but Delphine told me that they're more "peace and love" than violent. Leave them alone and they'll leave you alone.
Like a bee, I guess.
An old man is always in Opera Square, standing by a set of bathroom scales. He's weighing people for money. He always looks so hopeful, not like the snotty sales associates who ignore you in shops. He, like so many others, doesn't want to beg, but to provide a service for money.
The only sight that I absolutely can't stand, are the elderly begging women. They're the real victims of Communism. 15 years ago, everyone had a job, no matter how menial, and were paid a living wage. These women saw their social security networks disappear. Most are widows. They stand by the corner clutching large bouquets of field flowers or smaller bouquets of city garden flowers, begging for someone to give them a coin. They look like carbon copies of each other: small, hunched and bent, wearing a black dress and a black headcloth. Their wrinkles are facinating. I'd love to take a portrait of every old woman I see. I'd love to talk to them, to get their stories.
Fifteen years ago, people had money but nothing to buy. Now, people have no money but the shops are full of items. I'm being paid a very healthy wage by Romanian standards yet even *I* can't afford the clothes. Most are of poor quality, yet the same price you would pay at home: T-shirts for $25. Jeans for $75. Brand name clothing like Addidas and Benneton that costs as much as a month's salary.