False Expectations

False Expectations

Life can be stressful for the potential visitor to Bucharest. It certainly was for me when I first discussed the possibility of moving here. I, like many other enthusiastic but cautious overseas travellers embarked on a research mission. It was my goal to educate myself about Romania, its culture, its language, its often confusing social and political history and its efforts to secure a seat in contemporary Europe. With the benefit of hindsight I can now appreciate what an utterly futile task I had set myself. My local library and vast selection of book stores where surprisingly ill equipped for such a mission. Yes, I found many guidebooks that would offer one or two chapters dedicated solely to Romania or specifically Bucharest but it was not enough for me. Each time I read a passage dedicated to Romania I was constantly being reminded of bad drivers, packs of rabid dogs intent on tasting tourist blood and the dichotomy between the affluent, ‘fitze-crowd’ and the poor, who either remain in the countryside existing as they would have done 200 years prior, or those that were up-rooted and forced to occupy city dwellings, often without connection to clean water or electricity. The excitement surrounding my imminent move to Bucharest took a slight downward turn. I tried my best to remain positive and leaped head first into learning the language. There are, naturally, many web sites equipped for exactly this task. If I could converse with the locals, I told myself, then I would unlock the hidden secrets of the country, I would be able to rise above the petty criticisms and warnings found in holiday brochures and guidebooks and unearth the heart of the city and its people. After about 30 minutes my new found eagerness had once again left me floundering. I must admit to not being the most gifted language student, however, I had a mildly successful grasp of the Italian language that had afforded me many wonderful holidays and countless, ‘Grazie’s’ and ‘Prego’s’ with the natives. I also was quietly confident in my ability to order breakfast or ask for the nearest train station if I was to ever find myself stranded in Germany. The Romanian language, so I was told, is a romantic language leaning with heavy influence towards the Latin tongue, a mix of Italian with a delicate seasoning of Slavic influence. I was able to maintain a secure grasp on what I deemed to be the most important words; Please - Va Rog, Thankyou – Multumesc and Hello – Salut or Buna. My obvious failings were not enough to dent my enthusiasm completely and so I consoled myself with the notion that I would be better equipped to learn the language once I had arrived, there would be countless opportunities to speak with Romanians and my language skills would improve dramatically in a short space of time.
The moving date, which for so long taunted me with its distance, somehow managed to spring forward, driven no doubt by my childlike excitement to live and work in a foreign city and my general naivety in being almost totally unaware of what I might find once I had arrived.
The actual process of relocating to a different country carries with it many opportunities for disaster, thankfully my particular resettlement went without fuss. I won't use this space to relive the trauma of waiting over 3 hours in a Bucharest downpour outside a seemingly abandoned cargo shed for our personal belongings to be unloaded from the main terminal. I also don't intend to waste words describing the heart-achingly epic taxi drive from aforementioned cargo building to new downtown residence. I did, however, learn two vital lessons on that first monumental day in Bucharest; firstly, that driving around the centre of the city in rush-hour traffic is to be avoided if at all possible and secondly, Bucharest taxi drivers are not as megalomanic or as potentially dangerous as the guidebooks and case studies I had read previously made them out to be. Our taxi driver not only spoke wonderful English, but was also coherent in French, Spanish and Italian.
My whirlwind education didn’t just stop with the taxi driver, on the second day I found myself outside a supermarket close to my apartment, shopping bags in hand waiting for the now familiar yellow Dacia taxi to transport me home when I was approached by the most terrifying sight I had witnessed so far. A pack of scruffy looking dogs of mixed breed, size and bloodlust approaching from the neighbourhood opposite. I froze, nervously I wondered whether the chicken breasts and sausages I’d just bought could be used as a diversion tactic allowing me just enough time to run as fast as I could whilst screaming in terror for everyone else in the car park to find safe haven away from these monsters I’d read so much about. My initial concerns however were unjustified, the dogs ignored me, not only did they ignore me but they seemed completely disinterested in the car park full of shoppers. One of them, an off white Labrador with a slight limp looked so completely pathetic that I almost wanted to take him home with me.
As I began to settle and find comfort in my new surroundings I was able fully immerse myself in the Romanian language. I must admit to fumbling my way through small conversations and making plenty of mistakes, but each time I do I am politely corrected by my Romanian peers. My one remaining blockade to learning more words and phrases in the native tongue is that the vast majority of Romanians I deal with daily speak excellent English. I don’t just mean in the spheres of Business relationships but in my visits to the shops, local markets, banks and cinemas. There is a warmth to Romanian people that the tourist guides and travel books allude to but can never fully explain.
Each day I am greeted with fantastic modern architecture nestled amid historical grandeur. Parts of the city still remain somewhat bleak and grey but it is this conundrum between the beautiful and the ugly that urges me to explore further. Bucharest is far from perfect, but it’s even further from the descriptions I found printed in some of the guidebooks and travel brochures back home. All of my preconceived expectations have been unravelled. This city has ignited in me a thirst for knowledge and adventure, a desire to completely immerse myself in the culture and the traditions so that I may emerge a more complete person, a true modern European.