Tag: Romania
Introduction
Ben was on a journey that he would never forget. He’d heard about the country of Romania for sure. Unfortunately, a lot of it was negative, connected to Communism and all of its consequences. And then, of course, there was football. Without football, Ben’s knowledge of the world would have been poorer. But as it was, he was well clued up on geography having watched matches from all sorts of places. Bucharest was one of them. He had vague recollections of Rapid Bucharest, whose players, fortunately, weren’t so rapid as to give West Ham the run-around.
And then, there was the World Cup. Ben was old enough to remember red-shirted players giving some Columbians a few problems. Lăcătuș was one of them if Ben wasn’t very much mistaken. A funny name if ever there was one, Ben had thought at the time. Ireland had put pay to their progress in the end, though.
Next, there was the World cup in the USA. This was a golden time for the Romanians’ golden generation. There had been a flaw though. They’d allowed some players into the team whose surname didn’t end in -escu, which had obviously disrupted team unity and led to their quarterfinal exit. I mean look at Bulgaria, hardly anyone whose name didn’t end in -ov ever got into the team and they made it to the semi-final and, by Ben’s reckoning, really deserved to be in the final, which they could have won. They even beat Germany on the way.
Such football reminiscences could have gone on for a long time, if it were not for a sudden jolt. This woke Ben out of his deep football-related meditation. It was probably a good job too, as he was getting close to ’98 and 2000 in his thoughts, not happy years for English football fans as far as Romania is concerned.
The jolt was from the train coming to a stop in the middle of nowhere. Well at least to Ben it seemed like nowhere. The train spent many a minute standing still for apparently no reason and with no announcement to illuminate the passengers as to what was going on. Gradually, Ben was to learn that this was not an uncommon occurrence, but no problem, Ben was from Britain after all. And maybe it was better to not know that you are waiting because there are the wrong type of leaves on the line.
While he was waiting, it gave Ben a chance to reflect on his surroundings. The train looked like it had seen better days. Ramshackle was a word that came to mind. Sadly, the same could be said of many of the passengers. Old people who looked like they’d had hard lives and young people who looked like they were having hard lives. The man sitting beside Ben was typically plump and middle-aged with not so designer stubble and an ominous-looking bottle by his side, the size of a large coke bottle, but brown and three-quarters empty.
There were also beggars. One little child had a sign with her, ‘Mor de Foame’. With the help of his bi-lingual dictionary, Ben had worked out that this meant starving. He’d compassionately given her his last cheese sandwich, although she obviously wasn’t quite that hungry and instead of scoffing it down, had put it in her pocket saying ‘mersi’. Well, Ben thought it was quite a merciful act, although he would have been happier if she’d eaten it ‘cos he had slaved ages to make those sandwiches and now he too was quite hungry.
The Journey
As the train chugged along, Ben found it increasingly hard to stay in the little compartment that he was cooped up in. In this sense, the train seemed kind of old-style. Rather than a big, spacious salon type wagon full of seats, these Romanian trains were compartmentalised. Ben reckoned that eight people could fit in his compartment that of course depending on their personal dimensions as it were.
His compartment was only half full, but that still meant spending an uncomfortably long period of time, crammed together with complete strangers. Ben had thought that maybe he should initiate some meaningful conversation, but due to the fact that those with him were not fluent in the same languages as he, it had proved difficult. In order to get some respite from this incommodity, he had decided to leave the compartment and stand in the hallway that ran along the side of the compartments, starring out of the window. He was slightly concerned for the safety of his things that were stuffed into a modern style suitcase and a couple of industrial strength carrier bags, not to mention his go everywhere rucksack that contained his laptop, but there wasn’t a lot of value. Even the laptop was not by any means the most newest or best performing type around (you could easily get some odd jobs done, while windows was loading up), so probably nothing too much to worry about and in any case it was unlikely that anybody could slip anything out without others noticing, so unless the whole compartment were to hatch a plan, he thought it highly likely that everything would be just fine, in spite of the worry that was niggling him.
As he peered through the window, he was enthralled by the scenery that laid itself out before him as the train sped along; luscious meadows, sown with all sorts of intriguing crops; fields populated by cows, sheep and even goats; different villages, many of which reinforced the ramshackledness that he had meditated on earlier, but nevertheless gave an air of simple, communal living; and hills and other contours that built up to areas of extraordinary mountain beauty. Some of the mountains that they passed as the train rumbled on to its destination were simply breath taking. The windows of the train were large and closed except for a small panel running along the top that could be tilted open. This added an extra dimension to the viewing experience as cold air rushed in and swept over Ben with a refreshing blast.
At one point, while Ben was submerged in this viewing experience, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning to see what it was about, an older lady, face worn from the stresses of many years, but adorned with a headscarf which offered dignity a sense of humility, stood there.
,Să aveți grijă să nu te curentezi!’, she said.
Ben starred at her. His Romanian lesson hadn’t gone quite that far, and he had no idea what she was saying.
, Să aveți grijă să nu te curentezi!’, she repeated as if, maybe, Ben hadn’t quite caught what she was saying and needed to hear it once more. That however wasn’t the problem.
‘Eu nu…’, Ben spluttered then stopped. Now what was the rest of that phrase he had painstakingly learnt, he thought to himself. Actually, there were two good phrases for moments like these and it was time to pluck one of them out of the bag. How else would he learn Romanian?
He reflected for a moment as the old lady looked at him, thinking about repeating her words for a third time, but then realising something was up. Ben on the other hand, was reflecting on whether to say that he didn’t understand or that he didn’t speak Romanian. A third option would be to ask the lady if she spoke English, but he felt that that was unlikely. He decided to go for the one about not speaking Romanian.
”Eu nu vorbesc limba Romana’’, he said triumphantly, but with a stutter.
The lady looked a while at him and then replied with a smirk on her face, “Pai nici eu nu vorbesc limba Romana, puiule, eu vorbesc limba română!”.
The discussion was going beyond Ben’s head. Nevertheless, he could tell that he hadn’t quite said something right. He started racking his brains to try to think how to ask the lady to repeat what she had just uttered. ‘Repeate vouz’ came to mind, but that sounded like something an English tourist would say, so he thought on. Fortunately, he had studied diligently his book of ten basic Romanian lessons from his local library and after a while it came to him, ‘din nou’.
He broke the uncomfortable silence by saying to the lady, “din nou”.
She looked at him, seemingly smirking yet again, “Bine, puișor, limba română se spune, nu limba romana”.
Aha, this time it clicked. There were different types of vowel sounds in Romanian due to accents that you put on them. In particular, a can be soft or hard. He obviously hadn’t quite mastered that lesson yet. He felt like he could give it another go.
“Eu nu vorbesc limba Romănă’’
“Aproape, dulceața, dar o să te inveți!” were her final words before turning and leaving to return to her compartment, obviously feeling that that was enough language teaching for one day.
Ben also decided it was the moment to go back to his seat and have a sit down, language learning was tiring after all. Little did he know, that in more ways than one, this was going to be a theme over the foreseeable future.