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Architecture School of TM; Romania

 

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Jan '05 - Jan '07

 
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    Oana S. Apr 15 '05 1

    I'm at a custom office. The building looks as dirty and damaged as after a WW. I'm here to receive my Kahn and Corbusier books. I promise myself I will order it by DHL next time.
    ‘Next'
    At the 3rd floor of something that looks like a ruin there is a room. 4.5x3meters. Concrete on the floor, grey ‘finishes' (I can't really tell their initial colour), metal frames , broken windows replaced with wooden panel. Everything is peeling off and exfoliating.
    ‘Next'
    The room has 5 metal doors. 1 acces to staircase, 1 ‘do not enter', 2 locked, 1 in front of everybody is standing in line.
    ‘Next'
    The only furniture is a wooden bench (about my age, home made, with exfoliated paint, you can tell it used to be green then yellow and now brown) and two rows of 5 plastic chairs with metal legs (trainstation like). These were once green, now too rotten and broken to describe.
    ‘Next'
    Everyday between 10-13 (when everybody is working) and Wednesday between 11-13 you can pick up your parcel or even send one. We are 18 people waiting to enter that door. We were 23. There is no air and it smells like sweat. Like a pattern, from time to time a voice behind the door screams:
    ‘Next'
    On the door there is a sign that says ‘if you want to send a package you don't have to stay in line' (priority for our money). People choose to stare at: window, wall, floor. We are very intimate (20 people on 12 square meters). We also share our phone conversations and even our problems. The lady next to me has a meeting in 15 min. at the german theatre and people were so kind to tell her that she won't make it (while she was on the phone, setting the date).
    ‘Next'
    I have to sit down though I hoped I didn't have to. I feel dirty. I'm wondering if and in what circumstances a person had the opportunity to piss in this wainting room (it smells like). I can't stop wondering if the joy of receiving a parcel can ease up the wainting. People are not complaining.
    ‘Next'
    It's rainig, the sky is dark and it's cold for this season. We don't sit in line, everyone knows the person before him in line. I'm surprised no one is trying to , it usually happens.
    This man owns a bussines and tries to solve some problems over the phone. We feel a little ignored as he never shares our silent togheterness and makes a new call. He seems uncomfortable with us but doesn't mind sharing his bussines.
    ‘Next'
    A lady stands up and sits in front of the door. I ask her whether I'm after her bur my voice was too weak and was covered by some yellings from the parking lot. All of us look towards the window (like in a tennis match, turning our heads after the ball) She didn't hear me.
    ‘Next'
    If ro people know how to do a thing it's standing in line. Until the 1990 we did it for milk and bread. Iwas very young back then but once I stood 3 hours in line to buy some meat. I was very proud to help my mom.
    ‘Next'
    ‘NEXT'
    Oooops, that was me. Inside it looks just as creepy. You can tell the walls used to be white (about 20 years ago) and they even have some very very sad courtains, with holes. A man is supposed to check what my parcel contains. He asks “books from amazon?' ‘ok, bye'. I walk outside, people are still wainting but look kind of happy as they see me. Something like ‘one less to wait for'.

    At home I notice it's not my book, but my bf's. So, no architecture reading this weekend. Maybe I'll find something to download.
    Anyway, his book is from ‘you work for them.com' and they are always sending nice cards along with the books. At least its something.
    image

    I made a terrible mistake and satisfied my impulse to contribute with a post at the most popular thread. As I wrote this post, my gmail notifier kept showing up ‘Someone has just responded to "Hi all you fancy graphics lovers" at Archinect.com', for like 20 times.
    Will it EVER stop?

     

     
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