So I received a comment, “Less Bush More Romania!” This is, indeed, understandable. Although I can not keep my mouth shut at the current atrocities that are occurring back home, I will try to include more information about day to day life in RO.
This post is a tribute to having sitemates – i.e. other Peace Corps volunteers who live in the same city. This week has not been good. In addition to the approaching end of the semester (evidenced by the piles upon piles of paper on my couch,) I am having some technical difficulties. So, needless to say, my mood was a little sour the other day when coming home from school. Taking a different route than usual, I happened to run across my sitemate who was herself on the way back from work. I waved and said hi, and she could tell that I needed to talk. Inviting me over to her place, we had tea and soup and vented a bit. It made me feel much better and I think it was more therapeutic than brooding in my apartment. I really should join that gym these days…
The job is chugging along and I find that I am slowly developing some relationships with my colleagues at one of my schools. This is important because it makes me look forward to going to work – I can’t however say the same about the other… perhaps with time. I feel quite busy most of the time, but I am making myself keep up with reading. Currently I’ve read “A House for Mr. Biswas” by V.S. Naipaul – a great and sweeping story of a man. I like Naipaul, and it’s been interesting to read his stuff in reverse chronological order. You see how an author has evolved, perhaps becoming more self conscious.
Minor nuisances continue to occur – as this is Romania. When I went to get a new book at the library, I received some short rude and quickly spoken lecture about how I needed a stamp and that in order to get the proper stamp I had to go downstairs and then come back again. Of course it was agitating, but I held in my annoyance, got the stamp, and then proceeded to be granted the book. On the other hand, I went into a little shop by where I live last night looking for a sponge. I had forgotten the word for sponge, and all I saw was a metal one behind the counter. I point at the metal sponge and say, “dar normal,” “but normal,” and instead of a puzzled look, the lady behind the counter reached down and pulled up a sponge. It was a minor victory for sure, but god, when faced with so many minor annoyances, any victory is sweet.
You don’t have to go to Romania to find rude bureaucrats… have you been to the Registry of Motor Vehicles in Boston? It’s good that you bumped into a sitemate and had the opportunity to vent… it always feels better!
WD,
There are always people in the world who have a need to exert certain rules in order to feel better about themselves. Think about this, by making you go downstairs, this person speaks down to you from a position of power. The reason they do that is likely becuase they have very little actual power in life. This can result from an unhappy home life, disatisfaction with the way they see themselves, and thus they puff themselves up to look bigger then they really are. It is very simialr to the small animal that will puff itself up and try to look bigger then it actually is. But, that is just me thinking out loud. What do I really know about human dynamics and etilogy of actions?
-Big Tex
Dear Big Tex – You assume the person at the counter was enforcing an optional rule. I’m sure her boss gave her a job description and if she wants the job she’ll follow it. Sad to say, the bureaucracy can be intense in Romania. I have a great story about mailing a package from Bacau to Sibiu.
It’s my opinion that if there was serious streamline of such extraneous practices and a serious commitment to fight corruption, Romania’s reputation would be improved immensely, even if they kept the dogs and the potholes.
estielmo(at)yahoo(dot)com
http://www.AThousandBooks.us
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/we_love_romania/
John K,
In many ways it does not really matter if the rule is optional or not. Even if the rule was ordered by the boss, look at the words that WD utilized. He mentioned that “…received some short rude and quickly spoken lecture about how I needed a stamp and that in order to get the proper stamp I had to go downstairs and then come back again.” The point is that the rule was created by someone who had a need for feeling more powerful.
But what is more important is to look at the way that the comment was made. The salesperson could have simply mentioned that it was important to go downstairs first. That would have been one way to do it. The fact is they did not. This is important becuase the way people say things is almost as important as what they actually say. It is possible to follow the rules without injecitng a certain amount of attidue. It is the way she said it that makes me interested and perks my ears up. I would think(based on this very brief description) that she was frustrated about somethign in her life and was trying to order some sort of control by “ordering you around”. By ordering WD around, she was able to make someone do something that she wanted. Even if her boss gave the rule, there is a difference in her mind of her letting you know something and her telling you what to do. In my mind there might be some issues of lack of control going through her life.
But then again, that is just me thinking out loud. What do I really know about the reasons people do things?
buon giorno,
It’s good to know that you’re still pushing your own limits and using your innate charm to meet and make friends. (And I don’t mind reading about Bush at all, so write what you like. As I like to say, “Silence makes us complicit.”)
-kellen
I must say, I do find it funny that this little slice of life post seems to be generating more interest than my long and well thought out views about Bush and Co… but oh well, such is the semi-democratic nature of this game. I would like to respond, first, if I may, to BigTex. Tex, you are right on. In fact, one of my early lessons with my conversation class was about HOW we say certain things. I wrote a few phrases on the board, such as, “Hey,” “Come Here,” and “You.” Then I asked my class to say each word in as many ways possible. Of course, the tone in our voice changes the entire meaning of these simple words. By extension, the same is true with sentences, and in general, communication. Thus I find that many simple requests or exchanges, here in Romania, tend to take on an unnecessarily negative tone. “What would you like,†ends up sounding like, “What do you want.†Perhaps I’m being overly sensitive, but since I’ve worked in retail and support environments, I realize the importance of a kind voice, be it over the desk or phone.
And John K – glad to see you here. Yes, I agree with you wholeheartedly. Anyway, I’m not sure if you were TEFL, but I just finished up putting the grads into the catalog – simply archaic! And sadly, such is the case with about everything. Even when there is a computer behind the counter, it still seems as if logbooks, the likes of which we haven’t seen since the pre-War days, rule the roost here. Maybe it’s a comfort thing, but I do think there is not enough push to use technology in a smart and efficient way.
But I must recount the experience I had when visiting the post office last week Well, I usually like to go in the afternoon, where there is one of two clerks on duty, both young women. They are nice and go out of their way to speak to me in English, even if I greet them in Romanian. So, I talk in English with them and they seem to enjoy it. Well last week I couldn’t make it to the PO till about 7:30, a half hour before closing. I gave my package slip to the lady behind the counter (new) and she proceeded to take it and continue what she was doing. As this behavior has become acceptable to me, I decided to just look around the PO – it was pretty quiet – a bunica bent over some forms at the tables in the middle, and the ladies clustered around together on the other side (where never do I venture.) I turn around and notice that my slip has been handed off to another employee. I get a little nervous because she is an older woman with those thick and round glasses – this could go either way. She gets the package, grabs the logbook and begins to ask for my ID card, “Your…†she begins, but stumbles on “identification.†I smile and give her the card – she smiles and takes it back. Having written what needed to be written inside the book, it now is my turn to sign it. However all the little half-basketball sized holes in the glass are occupied, and so we walk to the other end of the counter where there is one free. “Your signature please,†she asks, and I comply. I say, “Thank you very much,†and she smiles and hands me my package.
Now I know this sounds mundane and perhaps even absurd in it mundaneness – but it was, again, a small victory. Yes, they do know better, and they can do better – they just have to want to.
There is a small shop in my time that I am absolutely devoted to. Beyond the fact that they have things like brown rice, tofu and peanut butter the women who work there always smile and greet me by name. Communication is limited since my Hungaraian is laughable at best and speaking Romanian here is a big no no, but we make do. There have been a few nights where their warmth has pulled me out of a pity party funk.
I should proofread, town…not time. Small Freudian slip.