| "Romanian traffic" |
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| Bigger than Jesus |
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Jarvis Cocker. Before departing Adelaide, I had considered myself quite the cultural expert.� I had lived in three countries and seen another ten.� I had completed all the Aiesec preparation, majored in International Management, and thoroghly believed I could handle any cultural shock that I encountered. Muhammad Ali. This arrogance has always served me well in the past, and this time was no exception.� For if I had of understood the true extent of the difficulties I would face in the first two weeks I may never have came, missing out on what has became the most eye opening experience of my life. The initial shock came from the less glamorous visual sights of Bucharest.� The city is littered with rubbish, thousands of dogs roam the streets, the beggars, the homeless, and the ghastly concrete apartment blocks that my new friends call home. Although I have had international experience this was my first time out of a English speaking country.� My usually confident personality quickly diminished, and I no longer had the self esteem to demand what I asked for.� I constantly felt nervous in my new surroundings.� I was told to watch out for the seedier side of Bucharest.� Their sense of time frustrated me.� I began to wonder why I chose to come to this god forsaken city. I began to question my sanity. Two months on, and the visual sights no longer worry me.� I no longer see the identical, grey, apartment blocks.� Instead I look passed them, into the back the streets, in search of the stylish pre-war buildings that escaped Ceaucescu's 24 year tyranny.� The little Paris. I no longer notice the dogs.� Their presence between tables at a crowded terrace is now more expected than a waitress who actually feels obliged to serve you. I look beggars in the eye.� I order "o sticla de Sprite" with confidence, and if I am in a situation where the language is a problem I have regained the confidence to get by with a lot of pointing. Honestly.� After two months of living in Bucharest, the place has really grown on me.� There is never a dull moment.� The nightlife is great, and with the new mayor on his current egotistical trip it is a really exciting place to live. But what is making my stay in Bucharest most rewarding are the people.� An amazing bunch of Romanians who try there very best to please me in every way.� Who make every possible effort to show me how beautiful there country really is. And you want to call your Mother and say, Mother I could never come home again. I seem to have lost a very important part of my brain, somewhere, somewhere in a field in Hampshire. Pulp. I often wonder if I was in the same situation would I make the same effort to make sure an international guest is left with a positive impression of Australia.� I think not.� Perhaps, we don't need to give Australia such personal attention to achieve this goal.� Or perhaps I have no sense of national pride.� Romanians do. Do you? |
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