It’s interesting to note how Romania’s star has been rising in
my life over the past few years. Up until about five years ago my image of Romania was the
one donated to us west Europeans by Bram Stoker. Swarthy men shuffled furtively
around seeking an opportunity to slit your throat for the gaining of your gold
wedding ring, ravening wolves haunted the forests and byways seeking the
opportunity to tear the same throat for the sake of filling their hungry maws, old
women in shawls watched you from the shadows through acquisitive eyes set in
bloated, leathery faces, and young women – if ever they came into the picture –
auditioned to become undead girlies so they could drink the blood of children.
I exaggerate, of course, but not quite as much as you might think. And now I have to wonder why it never registered with me that sweet little Nadia Comănechi was Romanian…
All that changed when the splendid Medeea Popei became my dentist. And then there was the woman I encountered in an Ashbourne coffee shop, and the woman who worked on the tills in a Uttoxeter discount store, and the nurse who came to perform my preliminaries while I was prostrate in the A&E department of the Royal Derby Hospital. All friendly, smiley, chatty and light of demeanour, with not a hint of sharp knives, long teeth, leathery skin or ill intent in sight. And all Romanian.
Fast forward to the YouTube videos of people performing the
Jerusalema dance challenge in Romanian cities and the Romanian countryside, and
there I saw a level of sophistication, fine design, prettiness and good
vibrations easily the match of my own little corner of Europe. Their bears are rather nice, too, as evidenced by this picture taken in the Carpathians:
Today I received a reply to one of my YouTube comments from
a woman called Elena. It said ‘Agree 100%’ – in Romanian. And the world turns…
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