Getting out of Bucharest
“What about Bin Laden?” the girl opposite in the train asks me. ’What about Bin Laden?’ ’You believe it? That they got him?’ ’Ehm. You don’t?” Here eyes light up. ’No, of course not. No picture, nothing. And what about Guantanamo Bay?” ’You don’t believe that either?” ‘No of course I believe it. But why don’t they do something about it?”Next to us a guy burps and smashes his empty beer can with his hand. I’m at a loss for words and am thinking hard to change the topic.’So, you’re a student?”Yes, I study English and German. I want to work for the EU. You know, be a translator in Belgium. I don’t like German, but it pays better than English so, I’m trying to learn it. You know, I know you west european people think we are just some east european country.”But you are an east european country?”Yes, but communism is long gone you know, we’ll be like you soon.’She tells me she is from a small town, and how ‘fucked up’ she thinks Romania is. How her mother is a doctor’s assistant and makes 200 euros a month on her full time job.’I left the town, nothing happened there. Well, except they shot Ceausescu and his wife there. So, anyway, where are you going?’Good question. I picked a place on the map, at the beach. Bucharest and it’s heat wave is killing me, so the beach seemed like a good idea. It turns out we are both heading to the same town. The girl to work, me to, I’m not sure. When we arrive at our destination she helps me out finding the hostel. The picturesque place I imagined is a grey collection of building blocks and high rises. We share a taxi together, exchange numbers and ‘facebook names’, and say goodbye.Still no sight of any beach anywhere. The hostel has a big sign stating ‘NO GUNS ALLOWED” on the door. An extremely enthusiastic guy opens the door, and invites me in. ‘WELCOME!’. I utter something like ‘thank you’ and follow him inside. ’So, basically’ he says, ‘we’re full’. And so are all the other hostels here, or actually, there is only one other hostel and it’s fully booked too. But, here’s what I can do. I have a basement, and an air bed. If you want, you can use it. I will charge you only half.’He shows me the basement. And indeed, a basement it is. Dark, damp and with lockers of the guests. In the corner an empty air bed. ’It’s perfect, I’ll take it.’ ’Great! We’re all getting pissed at 7 in the bar a cross the road, so we’ll see you there?”Eh. Sure. See you there!’
