Bucharest

So it has been quite a while since I last traveled (over a year). Apparently people enjoy sending me to former Iron Curtain countries and seeing the results, whatever they may be. This one had a particularly short amount of "prepare" time, and I sort of ran to the airport.

Air France flew me over, and I was quite impressed with the service. Infinitely polite, even changing my seat for me without any sort of hassle, like I usually experience with other airlines. It certainly is a cold day in hell when people bend over backwards for me from any airline (excluding Singapore Airlines, still my all-time favorite).

Some of their movie selection did sort of reflect what airline I flew on. They had an inordinate amount of Woody Allen movies available, so that was quite nice. And even though I sat next to a young couple clearly still in love, they at least restrained themselves (Americans so rarely do that).

The transfer plane confirmed all I have come to believe about air travel. Whenever a flight comes out of US, going anywhere really, the airline usually makes less effort than they would for a flight going out to out (say, from Singapore to Malaysia, France to Malaysia, etc, etc). Flying from Paris to Bucharest confirmed this, when I got some extremely good food, especially for such a short flight. I even got spoken to in French, although my inability to answer sort of tipped them off.

Romania had such good, decent people making the best of years of under-investment, and prejudice from other European countries (The UK specifically has set quotas for how many Bulgarians and Romanians are allowed into the country, strict ones, quite different from anything they've done to other Eastern Bloc countries. Yes, there are some rather offensive advertisements against Polish workers in France, UK, and elsewhere in Europe, but the pervasive laws rather than attitude is noticeable).

Speaking to my driver, apparently after the fall of communism, when they violently overthrew their leader, the entire country's living standards fell down to third world standards for the 1990s. Unlike other former East Bloc countries, it was difficult to find any sort of nostalgic memories of the Communist regime, it was wiped clean of any traces, instead promoting some of the more folk customs. Although hearing the average Romanian speak about the Gypsies was somewhat painful for me, it felt like they were conjuring up images of Borat when they spoke of their "laziness, poverty, and poor business skills". Walking through the city, it was very obvious where the Gypsies lived.

The Gypsies lived in the most dilapidated part of an already run-down city. Former store fronts were boarded up, and you could see entire families squatting in the storefronts. They, like many other Romanians, stole electricity from the main grid. In fact, stealing electricity seemed to be pretty commonplace, excluding the few main avenues and boulevards the city possessed.

Bucharest felt less like a city, and more like villages which had just sort of extended indefinitely into the countryside. Never before have I felt so small in a city. Everything seemed to have been there forever, and the glory had faded off of these beautiful, Pre-Communist buildings. Though it did feel as if the country had begun to get considerably wealthier over the past few years, and that infrastructure improvement simply could not keep up with the demand. So you'd see shiny new cars next to the near-infinite amounts of Communist-Era built housing blocks.

In some ways, the area seemed to suffer from investment even more than Tajikistan. Unlike Tajikistan, which had heavy Soviet investment, Romania financed all of its own development and received little support from other members of the Eastern Bloc. Also, their industy had been kept antiquated, even by the low standards of the Iron Curtain. This, on top of the eccentric rule of their President, almost ensured their isolation from the rest of Europe. Plus, traveling on the Trolleys and Buses, I saw an unusual thing: the older members would bless themselves whenever they passed a church, something I never saw even in supposedly more religious Poland. Nor is this restricted to the older members in society, it seems as if there is something of an increased interest in religion over the past few years, according to someone I spoke with while out in the more quaint countryside.

Unfortunately, the food wouldn't be something I could recommend. Excluding some particularly good cheeses and various weird nuts, most of it felt like bland versions of better Eastern European dishes. The tourism was barely developed, and unfortunately focused on the cheesier aspects of Romanian culture, like Vlad the Impaler, rather than some of their philosophers or writers. Oh well, I guess that's unavoidable anywhere, but I was hoping for a stature or some mention of Tristan Tzara, a particular favorite Dadaist of mine.

People seemed somewhat strange there. Everyone was extraordinarly pleasant and very polite, yet always volunteered slightly more information than I would've liked. Its difficult to describe, it was like a way for them to appear warmer and friendlier by giving up information that would've been better to hide. I was implored many, many times to come back and stay even longer. Next time I might, but I sort of wish I knew a bit of Romanian, since I was completely unfamilar with it, and my German didn't even help me, like it usually can.

Finally, to top off perfect weather, nice people, and a wonderful hotel, I got upgraded to first class for no apparent reason on my direct flight back. Thank you Air France.