In Romania we say… a cold one and then a hot one :). Last time was F for Failure, today is another F, but for Faith! I have always said that one thing leads to another and things happen if you go with the flow. Everything happens for a reason. Even if sometimes the final purpose is not that obvious, believe me, it’s there! I’ve had quite a few events in my life that re-enforced these believes! And the examples… let’s just say I have enough stories to tell ‘till I die..! For example, the first one that comes to my mind right now, is about how we came to live in Paris. Yeah, I can’t complain, it’s fucking fabulous!!! It has worth trying three times! It was not always this fairy-tale we’re living now (I understand fairy-tale by not paying rent because we still live with my mom… I know, I have low standards 🙂 )
1ST time- December 2007
I still remember how we packed everything in one night to free our 1 room apartment, afraid that the landlord will arrive claiming his last 3 month rent! Let’s say we had no job, no hopes to get a job, my mom had left the country in august, leaving me with a small land to sell and pay a lot of debts to a lot of angry men, my soon to be husband’s parents had just had a divorce and they were in another galaxy, so we were pretty shaken up. I would lie to say that we had no one! No matter what happened, I have always had my grandparents to support me, in every possible way a person can be supported. I owe them everything I am today, even if I’m not much. I know if someday I’ll be someone it’s thanks to them and it’s because I owe them this! No one believes in me more than my grandmother does and no James Cameron could compare with the bedtime stories my grandfather would tell me every night. They gave me the wings to fly. It’s true they never thought I would fly 1500 miles away. So, when we’ve decided to leave the country for the first time, it was the hardest decision to take. It was just a few months after their only daughter had left, so this second hit was not easy to take. I spent my last days in Romania, in my home town, Pitesti, just 50 miles from Bucharest (the capital). Only the thought to leave them alone was killing me. How I cried those day… I even cry now, as I write… this is one of my strongest demon that’s haunting me! The fact that I can’t have my grandparents here with me… they’re old, they are alone… and they get older and older… and I’m not there! It’s hard… and I know there are thousands and thousands of men and women and children out there separated by much bigger and suffering reasons like war and poverty, but we are built to think that what happens to us is the worst. I can’t help it…
So, on December 23, we have all our lives packed in two suitcases. Ready to begin a new life, ready to live the immigrant dream! Full of high hopes, in one week we’ll find a job, in one month we’ll have a house, and in one year we’ll buy a land in Romania to start building our house! Oh, I forgot to say, we were 20 years old at the moment yeah, cruel age! Still believe that pigs fly! I left with my heart broken, literally! I cried all the way to the airport, in the plane… in the bus that took us to the entrance in Paris (Porte Maillot) from the airport… I cried like a baby! That cry you cannot stop! That cry that comes from inside! That cry of pain! A really big pain that’s eating you inside! You simply feel how your heart is broken in thousands of little pieces and it seems impossible to have it ever fixed! /
…and cry some more when I arrived in Paris. When you say Paris, you think of that vintage city with fashionable people and cute cafés, berets and lovers on the keys, red wine and Camembert cheese… For those of you who know Paris, my destination was Chateau Rouge neighborhood. Travelling in the metro (the subway) I was not able to make any sightseeing so, the first time I have ever saw the light in Paris was directly in this vibrant place! No description needed. For you out there who have no idea what this means, let’s say you’d swear you’re somewhere between Maghreb and Africa, with a touch of Asia. Instead of my cute cafés or brasseries for a glass of red wine, there are salon de thé for the Arabs to have their gun powder green tea, halal kebab fast food instead of fromageries, and boutiques full of African fabrics to keep it trendy. Nothing French at all. Bye bye French dream! And I forgot to say that all this is at a 3 minute walk from the famous Montmartre 🙂 Where the fuck was I?
Any hope I had made about Paris was soon to be broken! The shock was that big that for an instant I had all forgotten about Romania and the fact I left my grandparents alone. Yes, that big the shock was! Even though it was just one day before Christmas Eve, I couldn’t have any Christmas spirit vibrations! There was nothing I imagined to be. I don’t know if it were the emotions of seeing my mother, my disappointments about the city or just the normal fear of a new challenge, the fact is that my inside was upside down! /
To be continued…
P.S. We have just found our own place!!! Waiting to move out from my mom’s!
beingroma 