| Submitted by: Evelyn C. LeeperUnited States |
| Submission Date: 10 February 2005 |
|
 |
 |
This is sort of the
reverse of Hitler's idea: he was going to open a Museum of an
Extinct Race after he had killed all the Jews, but no one in Eastern
Europe is interested in a Museum of an Extinct Party.
All this emphasizes the point made in Isaac Asimov's story 'The
Recent Past'--the past, or history, goes right up to an instant ago.
Real history was going on eighteen months ago, and is still going
on.
Then we drove through the area where Ceausescu's residence (and
those of other high officials, many of them relatives) was. Many of
the houses here also had bullet marks. The guide, who made no bones
about her feelings about Ceausescu, made sure to point out that the
Botanical Gardens we were passing were the same ones that Ileana
Ceausescu wanted to take over for their private use, 'even though
they had all this space already.'
The next stop was the new 'palace' that Ceausescu had been
building. Actually this was a huge government office building,
about ten stories high in the middle and a couple of city blocks
long. It is supposedly the largest government building in the world
(I wonder if that counts the Pentagon), and (if it's ever finished)
will probably be used partly for government offices and partly for
foreign businesses and trade conferences.
At this spot, a couple of boys were selling books about the
revolution and 'the last hundred days' of Ceausescu. We got one for
US$3--it's a truly amazing piece of rabid anti-Ceausescu propaganda.
For example, 'The sadistic pleasure to destroy historical monuments
and buildings, ... is sanctioned by the national puppet theatre
called the Grand National Assembly.' Ileana is described as
arriving on 'a witch's broom.'
The palace is at the head of what used to be called the Avenue
of Victorious Socialism (or Communism, I forgot which) and now has
no name, according to Felicia. Since there are apartments along
this street, I'm not sure how people address letters to the people
living here. (It could be the apartment blocks themselves are named
or numbered.) The apartment blocks are not all finished, but since
they were designed for higher party members, they look much nicer on
the outside than most apartment blocks (and what's finished inside
is probably nicer), so I suspect they are and will be in demand even
if tainted by Ceausescu's name.
We stopped briefly by the Church of the Patriarch, a Romanian
Orthodox Church, but since mass was being performed we didn't go in,
but just looked in briefly from the outside. What we could see
looked beautiful; we will get to see more in other cities. One
other difference between Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox is that
the former cross themselves left to right and the latter right to
left.
Felicia mentioned that National Day had been moved from January
1 to December 1 to commemorate the unification of Romania on that
date in 1918 (or the annexation of Transylvania, depending on how
you look at it).
Our final stop was the Village Museum, which is a typical
outdoor museum with many buildings brought from the various parts of
the country. There was also folk entertainment, consisting of songs
and dances (which were interrupted from time to time by the air show
planes for Pilots' Day) and a long speech (topic unknown). It's
rare that folklore shows include speeches.
After the city tour we rested for a while in the hotel--the
heat was getting to us. We went out about 6 PM. Sunday evening in
Bucharest is pretty slow. Bucharest does have some of the same
problems as large United States cities: people were sleeping in
doorways or walking around talking to themselves. We even saw one
woman (obviously mentally ill) undressing on the street. The police
rushed over and apparently told her to stop, but didn't do anything
else. In most countries I would imagine the woman would have been
taken to a hospital. On the other hand, mental institutions were
frequently used as places of confinement for political dissidents by
the Communists, so there may be a backlash against using them for
anyone.
We spent more time looking in the stores; since they were
closed and there weren't a lot of people around, we felt we could do
this more without seeming obvious. One store had full windows but
empty shelves. Another had full shelves, but only jars of peas,
jars of spinach, and bottles of ketchup--twenty feet of four shelves
high each of peas, spinach, and ketchup. Yet another had only
shrimp chips--though it had empty refrigerator cases which *might*
have been in use when the store was open. On the whole, the food
situation in Romania is still pretty grim, though better than
before. Our meals were skimpy and we found that we were glad we had
brought granola bars to supplement the local food. In fact, as we
were looking in the window of the imported food store (mostly
beverages, actually), a man came along and asked us the time, then
(when he discovered we spoke English) engaged us in a slightly more
coherent conversation that the man in University Square. The main
thing of interest he said was that we should not buy anything in the
imported goods store, because that left less for the Romanians. (Or
he may have meant anywhere in Romania. Everywhere else, people want
tourists to come and buy things but in Romania, they don't.) He
also asked for a 'souvenir' of the United States. It turned out he
meant money, but he had to settle for a key ring and a ball point
pen. (Someone is sure to tell me what an insensitive tourist I am.
No, but I don't think handing out money to whoever asks is the
solution. My approach in part is not to spend too much time
bargaining everyone down as much as possible instead.)
Dinner was a big improvement over the night before. The first
course was grilled mushrooms and chicken livers; I got double
portions because Mark doesn't eat liver and people found the
mushrooms too salty. The main course was grilled beef, also
somewhat salty, but at least identifiable.
|
Romania used to conserve electricity by turning
it off at night, which meant no street lights. Now the street
lights are lit all night (which is more than can be said for the
hotel stairway, which is perpetually dark).
Waiting for the bus I watched someone mop the hotel floor. The
mop was an old towel draped around a triangular frame at the end of
a pole--no metal or plastic and no moving parts.
I observed to Mark that it was strange that Mojca was a
vegetarian for health reasons but still smokes.
Driving towards the Romanian border we started seeing donkey
carts as well as horse carts.
We crossed the border at Ruse. This was the longest crossing:
forty minutes on the Romanian side, ten minutes crossing the bridge,
and another fifty minutes on the Bulgarian side. The bridge is only
two lanes (one each way) so it can get really backed up, especially
if a lot of trucks are going through. Part of the time on the
Romanian side was due to people using the rest room--they had to
walk back about a block to the hotel and then the woman made them
wait because she had just washed the floor and wanted it to dry!
One reason that we got through so fast (!) is that we bribed
the passport control and customs men--with cans of beer and Coca-
Cola. Mojca says this is how all the borders are in the Balkan
Peninsula and attributes it to the Turkish Empire's legacy of
corruption and baksheesh as a way to run an empire (or a country).
There was a catwalk on the Bulgarian side which probably used
to be used to check the tops of tall vehicles for people trying to
sneak out of Romania. I wonder if it still is.
We changed money. We got about 17 leva per United States
dollar. There are three rates: one for business, a better one for
tourists, and the best one for tourists in a group. Of course,
these change constantly, and so do the prices, making calculations
very impermanent.
As soon as we got to Bulgaria, we noticed one big change:
everything was in Cyrillic. Cyrillic was invented by St. Cyril in
the 9th Century or so and based on Greek, with some new letters for
sounds the Greeks didn't have. As I suspected, the typography
available to me isn't quite up to it (though it does Greek) so Latin
alphabet transliterations will have to do.
Bulgaria started out as fields, then turned to mountains
covered with evergreens. To fill the time for the long drive to
Sofia, Mojca gave is a quiz (well, she had been a teacher). Not
that I mentioned all the topics in this log, but here is the quiz
for you; the answers are at the end.
1. What is the length of the Postojna Caves?
2. Name the six Yugoslav republics.
3. Where was Mozart born?
4. Where is Mozart buried?
5. How many children did Maria Theresa have?
6. Who was the most popular 19th Century Viennese composer?
7. What is the name of the Czech car?
8. What is the Yugoslav coast called?
9. Who are the presidents of Austria, Czechoslovakia, and
Romania?
10. Which is older: St. Vitus' Cathedral in Prague or
St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna?
11. What year was the 'Prague Spring'?
12. What was the date that Ceausescu was executed?
13. What was the month and year of the Romanian elections?
14. Which two of the countries we visited are the most
'touristically developed'?
15. What is the name of the main mountains in Romanians?
16. Name the three Romanian provinces.
17. Name the three largest Czech cities.
18. Name the countries the Danube flows through.
19. Name the countries on the Balkan Peninsula.
20. Which two countries have the largest oil deposits in Europe?
21. Name the currencies of the six countries we went through.
22. Spell the names of the tour guide and bus driver.
23. Describe the miners' role in Romanian politics.
24. Name the most famous Czech film director.
We arrived at the Hotel Vitosha about 4 PM. The new Japanese-
built Vitosha was quite a step up from the Hotel Ambassador, even if
the pool, sauna, and Bulgarian restaurants were closed for
renovations. After checking in, Steve, Mary, Mark, and I headed for
the tram to go into town. One look at the tram, however, made it
clear that we were not going to be able to get the wheelchair on.
So Steve and Mary said we should go ahead and Mark and I jumped on.
I kept looking for ploschtad Lenin, or any big square, but none
appeared. Finally I did see a street name I recognized as being on
my map, but on the wrong side of Lenin Square (which is now either
Alexander Battenberg Square or Democracy Square, depending on whom
you ask). So I asked someone on the tram, 'Ploschtad Lenin?',
pointed to the front of the tram, pointed to the back of the tram,
and looked quizzical. She pointed to the back of the tram. It
figured. We rode a couple more stops, then arrived at a large
building which seemed like a good place to get off. |
|
| Copyright © - "Evelyn C. Leeper" |
|
 |
| Other travelogues by the same author: |
|
|
|