Sociability is Hard Enough For Me

After being mildly scolded about the regularity of my posting I was going to make an effort to post more but alas I have been down with the WORST dose of man flu that anyone has ever endured. Rest assured anyone else would have died. After finding a lack of sympathy anywhere I was forced to get on with it.

A few days ago I managed to become a cherished memory of someone's big day as when coming out of my block's front door I inadvertently walked into someone's wedding video. The whole thing was very strange bordering on the inane. The groom came out of the front door completely in white, jacket, cravat, waistcoat and even shoes. It was truly chavtastic, especially when he climbed into a car that looked like something from the Sopranos. As normal they had gone for a real display but again as normal there was something to drag it down. One problem was that the rest of the family were in the former car of the Communist regime, modern day success story and staple of Romanian roads, the legendary Dacia. As you can see, you would hope for something a little less socialist when driving to see your son seal the deal. Not to let him down they covered them in balloons. It made a world of difference. The other problem was the location. It's fair to say the front of my block isn't Paris. Surrounded on all sides by other flat blocks, lots of graffiti and more than one set of roadworks, you would hope for a better location. They thought long and hard and came up with the only solution, an accordion player. Imagine my surprise at 7 in the morning, stumbling out of my block, late to get to the metro, hazy eyed (you know I don't function before 3pm) to find an accordion player (in peasant garb), a gangster car and a guy wearing nothing but white staring me; are you an angel? Have I died? The look of confusion and panic will be forever enshrined on video.

One of the most noticeable things about living in Romania is that people get married younger. Whereas at home you just assume that a vast majority, if not all, of people in their early twenties in clubs are unmarried, here it's different. I've seen a lot of western Europeans go up to Romanians in clubs only to find out they are married at 22. At home you would think you just crashed and burnt but here you just nod, thats fair enough. Its proved at school where men are massively outnumbered by women (its hard I tell you) and there are girls only a few years older than me who have been married for four or five years. It's not universal but its certainly a much more frequent occurrence.

I've been warned about romance generally, they needn't have bothered but I appreciate the thought. Everyone seems to have a few stories to tell. A few people have had the same problem, that they go on one date and it all seems to go great until they try to talk to them again by which time they have mysteriously lost the ability to talk English. Once is a blow off, twice is coincidence but this has happened to four or five. Sometimes it goes the other way, with people turning up at their work and bombarding them with emails. Sometimes its just seedy, I know a guy whose gone home with one less nipple than when he arrived. I've been advised that Romanian girls are suckers for an English accent and that I should strut around like Hugh Grant, but a man needs his dignity. I've also been told to exploit that I'm "Exotic". I've never been described as exotic, mainly because I'm not, and they wouldn't call me it again if they knew what it was like at home. They should come and visit, we'll go for a pint at the black lion, get offered out by chavs, catch an STD and finish the night off with a doner ... fuck yeah.

Its enough to make you home sick x

Tell The Villagers

I'm often asked by friends and also by some people who think I'm a prick, 'hows Romania?', 'what's it like?' and 'who the f*ck would let you in their country?'. The last question aside, I thought this would be a good time try and answer. I'm hoping Serj will act as my Romanian moderator, he can jump in and defend the nation of his birth if he feels at any point I'm being unfair or just don't know what I'm talking about, which is a good 85% of the time. So without further adieu, lets get anthropological:

*Without wanting to put everyone in one box, from my experience, Romanians are (very) welcoming, passionate, proud of their country (on the whole) and generally optimistic for the future. They have a great sense of fun.

*They live by the mantra of Ol' Fiddy Cent, you have money flaunt it, a lot. In the massive clubs in affluent Doriband where Bucharest's young and beautiful strut around ensuring they get seen by the right people not having fun, there are rows and rows of super cars. This is also true of people with less money. Some guys (and it tends to be guys) would rather drive a Mercedes than pay their bills. An English guy told me he worked with a guy who wore expensive designer clothes but when he went to his flat for a drink found it was empty except for a bed.

*This maybe a little unfair coming from me as my attempts to learn to drive descended into farce long ago (6 tests and counting), but drivers here are out of their mind. A red light means, 'go on then six more', zebra crossings may as well not exist and seat belts are for losers. There are no car parks in Bucharest and thus people park their cars wherever they can find an empty piece of pavement/grass. As the pavement acts as a car park this means people drive on the pavement. Some are a little too enthusiastic with their speed and most will look at you the humble pedestrian as though you are being highly unreasonable/crazy for doing something as silly as walk on the pavement.

*The Metro is amazing, even more amazing than teletext and I don't say that lightly. Sure you sometimes have to wait for ages, parts of the city are completely inaccessible and the drivers are liable to break heavily without warning sending passengers flying across the carriage, but thats all part of the fun.

*Theres always more room for one more on the bus/ in the lift/ going through a doorway. It gets excessive when you see guys take a running jump to force themselves onto the bus.

*The mullet remains neither big nor clever.

*I've learnt I'm a dog racist. I like English dogs, but not Romanian dogs (Brimo being an exception). The "Community Dogs" that live in the streets generally leave you alone but every now and again you come across a bad arse dog who wants to ruin your day.

*Corruption is a way of life, its really not subtle, its how they all get their driving licenses. The Transparency International Scale (1-10, 10 being squeaky clean, 1 being highly corrupt) gives Romania a score of 3.7, which is equal with Ghana and below Cuba, Kuwait and Qatar.... sleazy.

*Romanian women are dangerously attractive

*Everyone appears to like Bon Jovi, which is unsettling.

*NEVER bad mouth Georghe Hagi

*Bucharest is nicer than people give it credit for. Theres plenty to do, the way of life is good as is the pace, quick without being stupid.

Its a really interesting if sometimes baffling place, and I know I have a lot more to learn. So get yourself on a plane.

Buna

Caring deeply for your development as human beings (which I do) I am giving you a chance to broaden your horizons and open yourselves to the wonders that only the Romanian language can provide. My lessons are taking a break as they sort out me out a new teacher, the other two are unavailable. I think the truth is that they unable to handle the blank look on my face as I try to recall a word I was told 6 seconds ago, anymore. So here I pass the very limited knowledge onto you.

Picture the scene:

Person A (lets call him Jim): Buna!
Person B (lets call him Gavin): Buna Ziua (good day)
Jim: Ce mai faceti? (how are you?)
Gavin: Asa si Asa (so so) si tu? (and you)
Jim: Bine, multimesc (fine thanks)
Gavin: Ma Bucar (I'm glad)

Ma Bucar unfortunately sounds very similiar to the word for backside, so for a while I was wandering around saying backside, but it could have been worse. The other most noticeable misunderstanding was "NU TRANSITI USA" which is written on taxis. I read it as "no transit USA" and thought that was out of line until someone told me it means don't slam the door. Here are some numbers

1 = uno 2 = doi 3 = trei 4 = patru 5 = cinci

6 = sasi (sexy number) 7 = sapte 8 = opt 9 = noua 10 = zece

It gets pretty dull after 10. I'm picking up some vocabulary but unfortunately nothing I'm likely to use. For example "Jaf Armat" is armed robbery. It was on the news before you wonder and unless my career diverges pretty seriously I can't see myself using it. Heres a few more useful bits:

stanga: left
dreapta: right
weekend placut: have a good weekend
acolo: there
aici: here
cu placere: your welcome
acasa: home
prost: bad
dragoste: love (aww)
am chef: I'm in the mood (steady)

Though my Romanian is rubbish I still can't list everything and that makes me feel like a big and important, like a midget at a dwarf convention.

I miss you all x

Let's Not Mess About

This wench's name is Mihaela Radulescu. She's a Romanian TV presenter and from the google search for this picture she seems to be clothed very rarely. This is an anti-smoking poster and theres big billboards and huge banners on building fronts all over the place. It falls into the usual Romanian advertisers tactic of putting a woman looking sultry on everything. My favourite being in the equivalent of the metro the naked women they put next to the weather report for no reason. The poster however goes a little further. The top question reads something like, 'Is smoking your only pleasure?' and underneath she pledges to blow anyone who quits smoking! Theres no hope for female smokers. With the sheer amount of smokers in Romania she is going to be on her knees for a very long time indeed. We should do this at home, Anne Robinson, Ferne Britten, Lulu?!

Now if you excuse me, I'm off to develop a smoking habit so I can quit