Jan '05 - Jan '07
cred ca e mai misto sa fii alcoolic in europa decat orice in romania. sau aproape.
anyway, e prea tare aici si noi frecam plua in romania :( ma scuzati :)
In the end it is a pretty sad conclusion... I look around and see the desire to live abroad in all my friends' eyes. We weren't like that. We grew up without asking us if the country is good or not, without wondering if we could find a better one or not.
We promised ourselves we wouldn't get like our parents, buried under the weight of the problems, beaten up by the vicious circle of trying to earn something decent.
Half of my high school colleagues are working in areas not related to their studies (they look much older then their age). The others are wondering if it is worth it... And my most courageous one is a volunteer. My mom calls me, upset after watching the news, telling me it is crazy, stay were you are. My aunt who ran away to Italy during Ceausescu, tells me: ”˜if I could back then, then you can too'.
Having some German roots, my parents could have left Romania before ”˜89 and move to Germany. All their friends did. They had the papers in their hands. But, naive as they were, they sad ”˜it's going to be better here too!'. Now, facing their daughter's decision to abandon studies and move to another country, they can't say anything. On the one hand they want to stop me, knowing that it takes some guts and hard times. On the other hand, they wish they would have done it long time ago...
pics are actually stolen from my brother :)
In the end I love it: I love the fact that you can buy fresh, natural (!) fruits and vegetables, I love that you don't have yet that much artificiality, I love the places I grew up, I love the simple, untouched places where we used to go, I love the small communities of people struggling to organize things at an international standard, I love the improvisations you have to make, I love the small joys, I love the fresh milk and cream you can buy from peasants, I love parazitii and their unique humor, irony and attitude which is possible only in Romania, I love the simplicity of the God forgotten villages and how they live in their own world, I love the authenticity of some people, I love the creativity of others. The weird thing is that it is not a country in which living conditions are that bad, it is not about surviving, but about wanting more.
I am lucky because in architecture it is fortunately not that hard to find a job. Studios are always looking for slaves; slaves are always looking for bosses.
I told my friends to come for a year and waitress all together in Barcelona. Or in some forgotten village at the sea. What a luxury that would be...
I accidentally put my watch this morning on the right hand, and now it feels stupid to wear it on the left...