I met Pir

I met Pir.

I had better not! But still, now that we crossed each other’s paths, I keep pondering how to tackle this.

And so I arrived to a Romanian site that explains the meaning of the word pir. Pir, a masculine noun, is an everlasting ryegrass with procumbent rhizome, coarse leaves and green flowers (Hm, I totally disagree since I like the color green), grouped in ears, that grows freely, hindering the development of cultivated plants (now, I really am out of my wits with modesty).

Well, a pir has deep roots, and it is very hard to pull them totally from the ground it considers as its own and it is not willing to share with anyone. So is the story with my Pir. It has set its jaw on not letting me grow next to it. And I haven’t even threatened to pull it out from its ground. Then, I would have understood its frustrations and malice. Maybe my Pir is the same as the one from the story ‘Veverița Șugu și câinele Hapciu (Squirrel Șugu and dog Hapciu)’, it cannot bear that I may have stolen its thunder.

I know how this story continues. I wonder how mine will.

Jerome K. Jerome - ‘Three Men on the Bummel’

If one has never read anything written by Jerome K. Jerome, ‘Three Men on the Bummel’ can only surprise one. In a very nice way, actually. I’ve been laughing all the time while reading this book. Jerome K. Jerome tells such absurd and funny stories that it’s impossible not to see oneself in the characters’ places.

I must admit, I found myself the most in the story about the lady that jumps off a bicycle. But the stories have a wide palette for everyone’s taste. A calm reading, peach-perfect for autumn, ‘Three Men on the Bummel’ must find its place in our personal library. Even only to find indications about how to find one’s right side of the hedge in the Black Forest mountain region.

What courses have you got today?

This morning, I  was in a hurry to the bus station. The low temperature convinced me to hide my hands in the depths of the pockets. I was thinking that I was wrong to tie a scarf to my neck (which, actually, was giving me a hard time for it kept snuggling in one side giving permission to the wind to coarsely caress my neck), when a winter scarf would have done me justice. I looked up at the board hanging from a pharmacy: eight degrees Celsius: ‘Brrr, it’s freezing! No wonder I’m so cold’, I told myself.

‘What courses have you got today?’, a blonde haired-girl asked another next to her. They both moved in slow motion as if they didn’t care that soon the bell would ring. I was right behind them and, selfishly, I envied them for their backpacks on their backs. They sure kept them warm!

‘English, Maths, Sports, and Romanian. What about you?’

‘Romanian, Geography, Maths, and English’.

It seems like a life-time ago that I used to have the same time distribution. Yet, something has not changed: life’s easy for no one.

You, what courses have you got today?!

Sieranevada, 2016

The movie 'Sieranevada', directed by Cristi Puiu, seems to have the structure of an onion. Skin removed after skin, one discovers new faces of a person, of a happening, of a relationship. The main character of the movie is the authentic Romanian family. And I dare to draw this conclusion judging by the laughter in the movie theater when ‘moments in the family’ were represented. Something, even the most insignificant detail displayed can be found in our families, in all our families.

The variety of subjects tackled in the movie is complex. Whether old or young, the subjects strike a chord with/ within us. The so much hated or so much preferred subject, Communism, is also discussed. But the discussion does not stop at it. Various clichés that one digs one’s feet in regarding the way life should be lived, internet and what role it has in our lives, and, of course, conspiracy theory are also tackled.
'Sieranevada' could be called a comedy. Which wouldn’t exactly be incorrect. There are parts in the movie where one laughs one’s head off. But I would be wrong to call it in such a hollow manner.
'Sieranevada' is exactly like in the picture above. A painting, and for the ones who wish it, a masterpiece. But not just any painting. A painting on the move, just like Gioconda’s eyes following one anywhere one might move around the room. It is the vivid representation of the Romanian spirit (one we should not be ashamed of), as it has evolved for the last 27 years.