Yesterday was Romania’s National Day. A day out of school and work, an event celebrated throughout the country, but especially important for my home city - Alba Iulia - because that’s where the unification of the three principates took place in 1918. The day usually starts with a religious service in the Cathedral of Alba Iulia, sometimes followed by speeches from mayor or President or Prime Minister, and fireworks in the evening in all cities of the country. This year was different in the sense that the current Prime Minister, a candidate for presidency, tried to give a speech at Alba Iulia, but was booo-ed and hissed. But this is not what I’m trying to get to.
Every year, the crowd gathers downtown in each town to watch the fireworks for half an hour or sometimes even longer. It’s the perfect opportunity for pickpockets to raise the funds for spending the New Year’s Eve in the Carribeans, and for the keen eye to observe the variety of people present.
I had the misfortune to pass through one of the largest squares downtown in the evening, as people gathered there. And what I saw made me sick and boiling with anger. First of all, even 10 year olds had their pockets full of firecrackers and were not afraid to use them. Current law permits firecrackers from being sold only from December 27th to 31st, and being used only on December 31st and January 1st. But each year, you can buy firecrackers in any market at any time in November and December. The problem is, irresponsible kids buy and use them, resulting in many accidents varying from torn shoes, pockets, coats, to fingers, eyes and arms scrapped off the pavement. That’s why, the 10 minutes needed to cross the square felt like Afghanistan under cross-fire from two armies. But I did look at all the people around me, how they looked and behaved.
I was probably born in the wrong country.
I don’t feel that I belong here. The culture, habits, behaviour, mentality, interests - they are completely different than my own. I don’t spit on the sidewalk, they do. I don’t swear or act like a hooligan on the bus, they do. I can’t stand laziness, incompetence, corruption and bribes - they made a lifestyle out of them. I am not lobotomized to listen to manele (popular musical trend, combining gypsy, turkish and probably indian music styles), they play them out loud at any time of day or night.
I do not belong here. I do not represent this nation, this country as it is. I am the (positive, hopefully) exception to the rule.
Every time I visit a foreign country, upon returning I find myself asking the same question: Why do I keep coming back?! Will I be able to find that 1 woman in 1,000 or maybe 1,000,000 which is an exception, like me, and whom I would like to spend the rest of my days with? Will I be able to find a job here, to be underpaid for my skills, to compete against other college graduates which barely passed their exams thanks to corrupt or pitiful or irresponsible professors, to put up with idiots for managers, incompetents for co-workers and the generalized corruption and illegalities? Do I want to be one of the few who contribute to this country’s growth, pay taxes and not receive anything in return, not even decent health care? Will I survive when I will be older, and the country will be sustained by the younger generations - the ones which skip school, use firecrackers irresponsibly and make a living out of stealing cellular phones and car radios during their trips to western Europe these days? Will I ever be happy here?
What I have done until now was to lie to myself. “Things will turn better.” “I can make a difference.” “The corrupt neocommunist leaders of the country, which cheated at the presidential ellections, will be defeated by justice and democracy.” “It is just a period of transition, but it will end soon.” “I can be more successful here, there are so many underdeveloped areas of the economy and so few specialists.” But lies no longer work. The naked truth is: I am an alien in my own country, waiting for the interstelar portal to open so I can get the hell out of here.
I only wish I didn’t waste so many years trying to apply my almost-utopic dreams and ideals in the twisted, dark society I live in. It is not worthy to sacrifice my future and my life for the sake of millions and millions of idiots and mafiots. And I simply refuse to be associated with them simply because, for some reason beyond my control, I was born here.
