But Romania is Europe’s heart. And it’s beating wildly…

I’ve just read one of the few articles that could touch a deep chord in my heart. It’s about our beloved country, Romania. Indeed, it’s not written by a fellow citizen, but by a tourist. Someone who used to hear bad rumours about who we are and what we do.

Therefore my darling readers, i invite you to enjoy yourselves by perusing the next lines, and if you are a foreigner then do book your next flight straight to Romania!

“Romania, a surprise

Disclaimer: I was hung over and sleep depraved when I wrote this at Bucharest Airport. But I just re-read and I still agree.

I just spent 10 days in Romania. There was not a specific reason why I went, it was just a country that I have never visited so I booked a flight. A friend decided to join when he found out, he would only be able to spend 3 nights though, so for the rest I would be on my own. Other friends gave me a quizzical “Why do you want to go THERE?” or warned me about being robbed and assaulted.

The first event in Romania was that just meters above the ground during landing at Bucharest airport the engines of the plane suddenly went to full power and the plane rapidly pitched up.  We were pressed into the seat. The girl next to me said: “Perhaps they realized it’s the wrong airport. There are two you know.” The pilot informed us shortly after that another plane has suddenly rolled onto the runway. The wild east I thought.

I stayed at a serviced apartment in the old town near Unirii square. Razvan, the manager of these apartments, picked me up with his car. After a couple of questions he started talking about Bucharest. A very likable guy. He wasn’t the only one as I should find out.

First things first: The city has a population of about 2 million and while it has areas with beautiful, old buildings that remind visitors why it was once called the “Paris of the East”, most of the city looks typically post-communist. The women, this has to be mentioned, are very attractive on average and know how to dress well. Many are straight out stunningly beautiful. People seem to be moving throughout the city in groups. Rarely a lone pedestrian can be found. 99,9% of people have black hair and dark eyes. But that might differ in other parts of the country, I am not sure.

The apartment was in top condition and located in a six story building in one corner of the Lipscani district, the main nightlife area of town. It’s just awesome to live that close to the action, no subway or taxi necessary at all times. I was given the keys and was instructed to do what I want, because this is my apartment now. In case of any trouble I could always call Razvan. My neighbors were mostly older people who probably have been living there for many years.

I’ve met my friend who arrived a few hours earlier and after a quick dinner we hit the streets of Lipscani. The area got busy around 10 PM and would get even busier until the morning hours. Thousands of people were walking the streets between the bars, clubs and restaurants, again, mostly in groups. Almost every bar had tables outside which were crowded, something that I haven’t seen in a while. We arrived on Friday, it would be only slightly less crowded during the week.

One more thing about the bars and clubs: They range from cozy quiet hangouts for friends to loud techno clubs that blast their music out into the streets. But in all of them smoking is allowed. There are it seems so far no anti-smoking laws in Romania, although that may change with the EU forcing their rules on the local government.

Gypsies: Romania has a bad image abroad because they are perceived as stealing gypsies and con-artists. Sometimes I’d see somebody and assume he’s a gypsy, but that, as I found out, did not mean they were thieves or beggars by default. I was approached by beggars, small children, a few times but was told to not give them anything. They probably had their S-class mercedes already and didn’t need any more money. So I was told.

Safety: I rarely felt as safe in a foreign capital as I did in Bucharest. And I am not a naive tourist. There simply is no sign of threat whatsoever. I think Berlin and London are vastly more dangerous. So forget all that crap you hear.

The main tourist attraction seems to be dictator Ceausescu’s palace – now the home to the Romanian government. An immensely huge building with a road that resembles the Champs-Élysées in Paris and leads up to their own version of the Arc de Triomphe. I didn’t go inside though. When I planned to do it was (orthodox) Easter and there were no tours. There was, however, a drift racing event right in front of the palace for at least 2 days.

The parks are particularly great. Huge areas of green lawns, trees and sometimes with a lake, they are located in central areas throughout the city. We’ve seen many bikers and inline skaters there. You can imagine pavement walkways in all directions with park benches facing them conveniently for an afternoon of people-watching.

As a rule of thumb expect to pay about half what you would pay in western EU countries.

There’s many more things to be said, I could list facts all day, but the fact is you should just trust me and visit.

I could say I don’t know what it is that is so damn appealing about being here, but I do. It’s the people. As a visitor you feel very welcome. The people are warm and enthusiastic. 99,9% of people I’ve spoken to (those includes mostly the younger generation) speak fluent English. They might even surprise you, because they speak 5 other languages as well, including yours. And if they do, they do it well. They seem to be extremely good educated and some are very well traveled.

There’s a sense of love for their own country, pride, the will to improve things, and a generally positive outlook to life. Perhaps this is blue-eyed, but it is the impression that I got from the people I have met here and spent some time with.  Sometimes there’s an almost absurd talent. Go to a karaoke party (almost as popular here as in Japan!) and you’ll see (or rather hear) what I mean.

So what happened.

I’ve had a blast, even after my friend left and I was alone in this city. I could have easily fallen in love with a girl, and I think she did fall in love with me. I went on taxi-rides with complete strangers without knowing the destination or what the hell they were saying. I was thrown out of a club because my date was a little bit too alive that evening. I saw many near-escalations, but somehow nobody really seems interested in violence here. There’s a temper though, and it keeps up the pace of life. There are roads in Transilvania that are designed to kill you, never take your eyes off the road. But they are a pleasure to drive for every motorist.

There are witches, black magic and strange rituals. Some say that if you go into a particular forest at night, the lure of singing will bring you to a place where you will see naked girls dancing. They will be so beautiful that it will drive you mad or have you killed. Just like sirens in the sea, these creatures live in the forests. There are also vampires, of course. The stories can be traced back to some rituals that are still going on. Would you believe there are people that even today will take a wooden stick and ram it through a dead corpses chest? I wouldn’t either. But then again, it’s probably true. There are places that will look very spooky if you take a picture. You might hear strange sounds and see weird things.

But also you might just have a brilliantly good time. Trust me. Go to Romania, make the conscious decision to mingle and indulge in local life, and you’ll see for yourself.  You might also have a hard time to find another tourist. At least in Bucharest there don’t seem to be that many. At least around this time of year.

Go, come back, and tell your friends.

I like to summarize my trips in one or two sentences. This is what I came up with for Romania:

If Germany is Europe’s high-tech factory and France is Europe’s kitchen, then perhaps Austria is Europe’s ski-resort and England is where Europe’s humor comes from.

But Romania is Europe’s heart. And it’s beating wildly.”

The source of this article is : http://hashconspiracy.tumblr.com/ 

Thank you for the amazing relate.

Faleza din Galati (si altele)

Hello everybody!

Stiu ca n-am mai scris de o groaza de timp si bla si bla, iar poate intr-o postare viitoare voi mentiona si cateva amanunte mai personale gen: cu ce ma mai ocup, facultate, mediu inconjurator si orice mai vreti voi. Avand in vedere ca se apropie perioada sesiunii ma va plesni un chef nebun sa scriu despre orice numai sa nu lucrez la diverse obiecte.

Astazi aleg sa descriu putin peisajul “colorat” de care avem parte zi de zi cand iesim din casa indeosebi de cand desigur, a venit vara (desi teoretic e primavara, temperaturile ne contreaza).  Cu siguranta ati observat puhoiul de oameni iesiti din casa, bucurandu-se de vremea “parca prea calda pentru aceasta perioada”. Iesiti fratilor acum, ca atunci cand vor fi 40 de grade la umbra veti invidia soarecii din subsoluri!

Acum sa trecem la lucruri serioase… Eu locuiesc in Galati (99,9% dintre cei care citesc acest blog logic ca stiu asta, fiind prieteni, cunostinte dar ma rog:)) ) si de cand mirobolanta Gradina Publica s-a inchis pentru renovari, faleza a devenit din foarte aglomerata…ceva extraordinar de plin…e un fel de Mecca a noastra, un fel de piata San Pietro din Vatican de Pasti. Faleza arata ca parcarea unui supermarket in ziua deschiderii. Oamenii se falfaie pe acest Champs Elysees al Galatiului mai cu patima decat ar fi facut-o in Piata Unirii asta-iarna (daca s-ar fi dus).  E ca si cum tot oxigenul din Galati se concentreaza pe faleza, iar toti locuitorii se imbulzesc sa il respire. Pe o asa imbulzeala va spun cat pot de sincer! Roiurile de albine, turmele de vaci, stolurile de randunele si tantarii in perioada inmultirii ar fi teribil de gelosi.

Pe acest “covor rosu” galatean pasesc de la cei mai marlanesti slapi, la cele mai inalte si fascinante troace, de la cele mai umplute burti de sharoma, la cele mai health addicted gagici, de la cele mai boeme extensii de par si unghii nesanatoase din acryl, la cele mai hippie coafuri si ochelari de soare.

Atunci cand iesi la plimbare vara pe faleza te gandesti asa: “bai frate, ma duc pe faleza! Tre’ sa arat bine! Imi pot pune pantaloni, dar la naiba, apare alta cu o fusta mai scurta si ma eclipseaza, deci imi pun si eu fusta. O sa transpir mai mult decat bea o camila apa si n-ar trebui sa ma machiez, dar din nou, la naiba, apare alta cu un machiaj smecher si eu raman iarasi eclipsata. Asadar, ma machiez. Mi-as prinde parul ca mi se lipeste de spate, dar din nou…ce naiba?”…and so on..

Nu stiu daca ati observat..desi ar fi putin imposibil…imbulzeala nu ar fi suprema, ea nu ar atinge cote maxime daca printre picioarele paroase introduse in slapi ale dulapurilor umblatoare si printre cele unse cu ulei ceva mai bun calitativ decat Floriol sau Bunica  nu umbla cei mai smecheri rolleri, mergand de obicei cu spatele ca-i mai cool asa. Eu nu pot intelege. Neuronii mei nu pot face sinapsa si nu pot citi placerea pe care o simti ca iubitor al mersului pe role atunci cand nu te poti plimba cu mai mult de 50 de m/h pentru ca te feresti sa nu te blochezi printr-o fusta, sa te impiedici de un slap sau sa izbesti vreo geanta tip musama, copie Louis Vuitton. Esti cel mai tare roller si skillurile tale nu vor fi apreciate decat daca dai din picioare printre picioare mergand cu spatele de parca cineva ti-a montat carma prost.

Peisajul nu ar fi deloc complet daca nu as mentiona cardul de masini parcate pe ambele sensuri dintr-un capat intr-altul al falezei. In urmatorii 3 ani o sa fie parcarea cu bon de ordine, asa ca pregatiti-va! Sa mai spun ca in decursul a nici 5 minute am vazut un Ferarri, un Mustang, si doua Porche-uri ? Nu mai mentionez alte automobile infime gen multe 4×4 si diverse masini sport. Initial am crezut ca o fi vreun eveniment…bineinteles ca n-a fost. Eu nu stiu de ce supravietuim!:)) Pe bune…astia n-au bani sa dea drumul nici la 5 fantani si merg pe strada si ma impiedic de milioane de euro. Traim degeaba:))

Mai am o chestie! Ati observat ca nenumarate cafenele sau asa zise “Coffee Lounge”-uri devin adevarate lacasuri de fite? Vezi pe facebook poze cu patapoance tragand fum dintr-o tigara (ca din nectarul zeilor) in tot felul de localuri obscure cu nume care mai de care mai “koket”, localuri care isi maresc preturile datorita acestei clientele “high class” si in care atingi nirvana imputindu-te de fum. Cand intri in aceste localuri parca simti respiratia pana in gat si narile umflate de fite ale nimeni-urilor si parca instantaneu te gandesti la aprovizionarea cu lamai din cafenea…

Cam astea’s schemele de azi. I’ll be back cu o noua postare si in zilele urmatoare…vad eu despre ce si cum, iar pana atunci va las si o melodie cu sau fara mesaj ironic!:*

Lenjerie, flori..flori, lenjerie.

Intra in magazinul cu lenjerie intima si ramane surprinsa de aglomeratia de dantele, satin, matase… Atinge un sutien negru, doreste sa-l probeze, dar renunta. Portjartierul alb ii face cu ochiul, la fel si corsetul fin de matase expus in stanga, pe umeras. S-ar potrivi perfect cu acei pantofi cu toc, parul perfect intins si machiajul misterios la care se gandise aseara.
-Nu va suparati! Florile din vaza sunt de vanzare?
-Sigur ca nu, domnisoara. Sunteti intr-un magazin de lenjerie intima, nu intr-o florarie. De ce ati dori un buchet de bujori?
-As purta acel sutien negru cu placere. As imbraca acel corset, as incerca portjartierul si m-as simti atragatoare. Florile din vaza insa, poarta o mireasma care ma alinta. Ma face sa zambesc.

Specii si specimene, memorii memorabile si perle de toate zilele pe care cu totii cred ca le intalnim in cascarabete (aka maxi-taxi).

Mai exact, cam ce  ofera mediul inconjurator restrans dintr-un maxi-taxi (sau cascarabeta, cum vreti voi sa ii spuneti) pe traseul: Gradina Publica – Tiglina.:

1. Sa incep cu elementul clasic, cel care constituie baza piramidei in ceea ce priveste calatoria cu un mijloc de transport in comun: incantatoarea  l’eau de toilette (la propriu!) de pe la subraturi si diverse zone periferice ale corpului. Daca e vara fosele nazale sunt inundate de imbietorul rezultat al lipsei de sapun si deodorant, daca e iarna nu se poate sa nu existe cineva cu parizerul in sacosa si/sau ceapa nedigerata. Asadar, sansele de a evita miresmele produse de glandele sudoripare sau cele generate de diversele  produse alimentare cresc odata cu existenta unui carlig sau a unei esarfe bine parfumate si indreptate cu repeziciune spre piramida nazala.
2. O prezenta umana de aceasta data, dezinvolta din fire, mai intepata in fund decat sosetele la cusut si mai buna la impins decat un impingator pe Dunare este ea: La Balena del corason! LaBalena va lua maxi-taxiul care se va aglomera cel mai tare pentru a merge o statie, doua, se va aseza cat mai in spate si va inota apoi printre calatorii care stau in picioare, impartindu-le darnic si simandicos cate un cot si rastindu-se ca ultima printesa nedreptatita : “da’ nu va dati naibii la o parte sa trec?!”.  Acum…nu zice nimeni sa nu ii facem loc bilei sa treaca…dar bila poate avea rabdare pana se deschide macar usa la masina, coboara doi, trei oameni si param-pam-pam se elibereaza culoarul. D’oooh!
3. Mergand pe ideea: “Copiii sunt ca telefoanele mobile: daca sunt ai altora, indiferent ce ar face, ne calca pe nervi.”, va prezint si cu siguranta ati intalnit, copilul care consuma mai multa energie decat cuptorul cu microunde, foehnul, placa de par si fierul de calcat la un loc. Totusi, nebuni ar trebui sa fim pentru a invinui un omulet care nu face altceva decat sa fie el, el plodus enervantus. Nuuuu, problema o regasim la parinti, mai putin la tati alaturi de care copiii, de obicei,  par a sta mai cuminti decat  niste plante decorative. Problema e la mamicute, bunicute, matusite si alte rude feminine care nu inceteaza a innebuni bietul exponat de copil nici macar in masina. Il agita, il alinta, il pun sa repete ca un papagal exotic:”cum faci tu aia/ cum ii spui tu (vacii de langa tine) matusicai/cum o lovesti tu pe mami? (in traducere : cum ii tragi tu un sut peste bot lu’ mami?)”, ii promit o masinuta, o papusica, un fund de babuin cand coboara din masina NUMAI SI NUMAI daca va sta cuminte!!! Suna cunoscut, nu?!
4. O alta prezenta care tocmai astazi a colorat peisajul deja extravagant din cascarabeta…e chiar bunicuta trendy! Ea, al carei par carunt si riduri care nu…nu demasca varsta ci mai mult de atat…experienta si  ai carei ochelari de soare contureaza misterul de dincolo de lentila…eaaa..primeste un telefon! Badabim-badabum: incepe soneria! “Hey senorita, como puedes ser tan linda”:)) Asta adica!

Urmatoarea femeie care a urcat ma asteptam sa aiba ca sonerie “dansa bunicu” , dar am coborat prea devreme:))

1. Si ultima aparitie este ea, fata-extraterestru! Cea a carei personalitate este mai tare decat ciocolata abia scoasa din frigider si in care nu poti sa iti bagi dintii! Ea va avea mereu parul cu extensii tapat ca si cum ar fi un cuib de berze , ea isi va tine ochelarii de soare cu strasuri pe nas indiferent de durata drumului cu maxi-ul si chiar de perioada din zi, ea va imputi mereu masina cu zecile de creme, sprayuri, parfumuri  toate cu un miros dulce de capsuni amestecate cu  bonbon si alte dulcegarii, astfel incat atunci cand cobori sa iti masori urgent glicemia, ea va intinde banii soferului ingretosata parca de tariful prea mic al beletului si expunand unghiile extralungi si impopotonate confectionate “artistic” din acryl sau gel sau naiba sa le ia ca nu ma pricep:)) Ei ii va suna mereu telefonul roz cu ultimul hit hausea (aka de club) si va raspunde cu “da pisi” sau “da fata”, vorbind pe nas ca si cum nu si l-ar mai fi suflat de la ultima raceala din iarna.

Expresii/ Proverbe cu PISICA

Pisica la nevoie se cunoaste

Pisica nu merge de multe ori la apa

La pisica inainte, la pisoi inapoi

A ajunge pisica la os.

A avea ac de pisica cuiva/ a avea pisica de cojocul cuiva

A baga mana in pisica pentru cineva.

A da pisica popii.

A bate pisica-n piua

A fi prins cu pisica vopsita

A face din tantar pisica/a face din pisica armasar.

Banul face din om pisica.

Pisica mica rastoarna carul mare.

Pisica e rupta din rai.

Ce faci cu pisica ta, e bun facut.

Cine sapa groapa altuia, ii cade pisica in ea.

Cine seamana pisica, culege pisoi

Cine se scoala de dimineata, la pisica ajunge.

Daca taceai, pisica ramaneai.

Destept de-i crapa pisica.

Dupa razboi, multe pisici s-arata.

Gura pisicii adevar miauna.

Intri pisica si iesi motan.

Pisica isi schimba parul, dar naravul ba.

Pisica innobileaza pe om.

Nu te grabi ca n-au intrat zilele-n pisica.

Pisica mica trece primejdia mare.

A pune pisica la cale.

S-a sculat cu pisica-n cap.

Pisica arde si baba se piaptana.

 

Ma gandeam de ceva timp sa ofer un later edit la aceasta postare. Ce ar fi sa inlocuim pisica de aceasta data..cu cel mai nobil animal din zilele noastre: porcul! Vedem ce iese..:))

Porcul la nevoie se cunoaste!

Porcul nu merge de multe ori la apa. (merge la namol:D)

La soric inainte, la razboi inapoi.

A ajunge..soricul la os.

A avea ac de porcul cuiva.

A baga mana in porc pentru cineva. (Brrrr!:)) )

A da porcul popii. (traditional..as spune)

A bate porcu-n piua.

A fi prins cu soricul vopsit.

A face din tantar porc/a face din porc armasar.

Banul face din om porc. (adesea:D)

Purcelul mic rastoarna carul mare.

Porcul e rupt din rai.

Ce faci cu porcul tau, e bun facut.

Cine sapa groapa altuia, cade ca porcul in ea. (groh!)

Cine seamana porc, culege…carnati?!!

Cine se scoala de dimineata..cat un porc nu ajunge!

Daca taceai, purcel ramaneai.

Destept de-i crapa porcul.

Dupa razboi, multi porci s-arata. (ca dupa ’89 asa)

Gura porcului adevar grohaie.

Intri porc si iesi scrofita.

Porcul isi schimba soricul, dar naravul ba.

Porcul innobileaza pe om.

Nu te grabi ca n-au intrat zilele-n porc. (desi gabaritul..ar permite!)

Porcul mic trece primejdia mare.

A pune porcul la cale.

S-a sculat cu porcu-n cap.

Scroafa arde si porcul se piaptana. (sau invers:)) )