Photo: Vlad Ispas |
The vlogger is overly enthusiastic
about the prospect of traveling in Soviet-era comfort, just as he was thrilled,
in a previous video, about his stay in a five-star hotel in Moscow, hotel
reserved for Soviet and world dignitaries, such as the dictator Stalin and the
Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. He was so ecstatic about staying in such a
historical place, that he propped up his socked feet on the desk where Stalin allegedly
signed important documents. I cannot say that I share the vlogger’s enthusiasm
about Stalin, a killer of his own people.
Noel arrived at Gara de Nord in
Bucharest, a very familiar place to me, having spent two years of my young
adult life there during my daily commute to college, to and from my hometown of
Ploiesti to the capital, Bucuresti, arriving and departing from Gara de Nord.
Seeing my old stomping grounds, I was
overcome by an intense sadness and the tears of distress flowed. The place had
not changed much since those two years of my youth, it only looked cleaner.
Noel boarded a very familiar-looking
train, sporting a fresh coat of blue paint, but the same interior, albeit it
much cleaner compared to long ago, with brocade drapes and worn-out carpets,
something that second class train cars in the Soviet era did not have.
The W.C. (water closet) had the same stainless-steel
commodes and sinks but so much cleaner than I remembered them. The daily commuters
tried hard not to use the bathrooms on the train, we knew how disgusting they
were. We just held our bladders for one hour or more until we reached Gara de
Nord where we could use their facilities, a little bit cleaner, but quite
smelly.
During my two years of commute to the
university via the train and then the tram, I made lots of friends who either
rode the train to work or to school like me – a railroad administrator, an ophthalmologist,
college students, future architects, linguists, engineers, teachers, mechanics
working for the railway system, a few doctors who were party-connected and
lucky to practice medicine in the capital, a couple of theater actors, a ballet
dancer, and my English college teacher who always said that I did not take her
class seriously enough and nothing good will ever become of me.
We took the train daily at 5:35 a.m.
and returned in mid- or late afternoon when classes were over, or work shifts
ended. Late commuters sometimes jumped on the train as it started to move. Once
I did the same, not realizing that the metal bars were iced over, and my hands
would slip; I would have certainly fallen under the tracks had it not been for
a quick and smart man who grabbed my coat collar and pulled me inside the
train. That moment had been etched into my memory forever and it flashes
through my mind from time to time.
Each morning, we were all sleepy, bleary
eyed, standing and crowded in the dirty hallways, the seats were always
occupied from the previous stations, packed like sardines in a can, looking through dirty windows at the
passing landscape. We swayed back and forth as a single body as the train
stopped and started abruptly after each station.
The
controller would push his way through, squeezing this mass of humanity huddling
in the hallways, to check for tickets or monthly passes. The tickets, although
subsidized by the communist government running the country, were not cheap. My
mom and dad struggled to pay for my monthly “abonament” (pass). And the train
did not exhibit any of the “luxury” the vlogger encountered on the Moldova
train.
Noel’s
destination, the Republic of Moldova, formerly part of USSR, was carved out of
Romania by the Soviets after WWII as war reparations. A large majority of
inhabitants of Moldova are Romanians from the state of Moldova in the eastern
part of Romania, who speak Romanian at home.
The vlogger
was unhappy about his accommodation on the first-class train from the Soviet
era – the bed was too uncomfortable, the ride very bumpy, and punctuated by constant
jarring of stop and go, resulting in 13 hours of misery and inability to sleep.
Everything was spartan and minimal but clean.
And our American Millennials, Generation Z, and others want socialism/communism instead of capitalism. Be careful what you wish for, you might get years of misery in your “utopia,” thinking about our National Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance you protested against and bent the knee against at sports events.
From Carmel in MS:
ReplyDeleteThanks for this glimpse into rugged conditions that exist in so many communist countries. I'm glad you managed to escape; your parents were exceptional people.
They were simple people, Carmel, but rugged and exceptional for sure. I miss them dearly.
DeleteFrom Tony Urbizu:
ReplyDeleteThat's right Ileana. I came from Cuba, and I know what communist is all about. These kids that are searching for something better. They may fall in pitfall of communism and their lies. There are no magic bullet, in socialism system everyone loses the will to work. Everyone loses the will to be better and the end consequence is total disregard for a better world. Everyone becomes mediocre or half-#. There is no horizon, and you live day by day. Hope that you can get some food at the end of the day, and do not get sick or you'll die. Suicides are daily occurrence since people are driven to despair, and if a person complain it is a long jail sentence. They want that, let it be, but remember there is no turning back.
From Centrewing, posting at Canada Free Press:
ReplyDeleteHow terrible, wow, you are a most dedicated good person. I do not think the young from today's crowd could handle doing what you did. My own now grown-up children included. Love your articles.
Thank you, Ileana Johnson! I've written, on my website, several times, about "Socialist Utopian Oblivion" -- where the USSA (from USA to USSA on 1/6/2021) is heading.
ReplyDelete