Archive for Ianuarie, 2008
If one is not enough
Then you get two. I wonder if it was a free ride.
Nike
I love dogs. Since I don’t have a dog I like to take photos of them and then look at them. If you wonder why I don’t have one despite the fact I love them so much, that is because I forget to feed them. If I sometimes don’t know when I’m hungry how in the world would I guess when the dog hungry?
I don’t know if I always loved dogs. I am pretty sure I did not like stray dogs because there were a lot of them around here and they attacked people, so I considered them the evil kind of dogs. One time, I was with my sister late at night between the dark blocs. We find ourselves suddenly surrounded by e herd of crazy vampire rabid dogs. They were barking at us so bad that you’d say we had done something bad that offended them. I would have preferred to be yelled at by mom than by those dogs. “Let’s start running” said my sister. My instinct told me the same but rationally I knew that we had to stay still. I told her to start talking to them… just like that, dog talk. In no time at all the dogs began wagging their tails at us and fighting each other about who’s getting petted.
This is when I learned they were cool. Ever since, when I am walking on the street and see any, I look at them deeply in the eyes and tell them that I am not an enemy. They always seem to understand that.
So whenever I can, I help other dogs to stay away from inconsiderate people. There was a dog that had find a lady whose mind he could play with. He was barking at her and getting closer, to her obvious fret. She got scared and this is when I intervened. “Here doggy doggy” I called the dog and told the lady to stop running.
In a little while I find myself with a tail wagging behind my backpack. That did not disturb me. But in front of me a guy starts laughing and then he says:
-Pretty nice dog, how much you want for him? I looked at him from head to shoes and said:
-It’s for free if you tell me where you got you Make shoes from.
Wishing sweet dreams
As I mentioned before, my grandma is making tuica at home. The plums are handpicked after being vigorously shaken down form the tree with a big stick. After that she lets them ferment for… a while. She then puts them all in the copper and makes a big fire underneath it, in the open air. It takes some hours for all the fermented plums to boil and to produce the steam that goes from the copper through a pipe in cold water, wich then condenses the steam to finally make it come out in a bucket as tuica.
I am not a tuica person. The first time in my life I got drunk happened to be with the family’s traditional drink, and believe me, it was not too pleasant. Especially when you are throwing up under your mom and dad’s drunk-but-not-puking flabbergasted looks. After this incident I didn’t drink tuica for a few years, even smelling it made me sick.
My mom had to do something too. Last summer she made visinata, which is made with some sour cherries fermented in sugar and then drowned in tuica. For an extra flavor and quality, she had added some raspberries. As it was too late for me to go buy anything and I couldn’t trick anyone into doing it for me, I had nothing else to do and no beer. I remembered about the visinata and I asked my mom if she still had it. She said she did but “you shouldn’t be drinking, it’s bad for you, you get used to drinking…” you know, mom stuff. I eventually convinced her that I will make a good assessment oh the quality of her visinata, and being curious about how good of a job she had done, she gave me some.
I could proudly say it’s the best visinata I’ve ever had. It just feels like there is no tuica in it, wich is good. I am still not crazy about it. What you have there is more like an alcohol flavored sour cherry juice. Which… gets you pretty drunk.
Last night I wanted some. Since she keeps it supervised so I can’t attack it, to make sure she won’t refuse me again fearing a shortage of visinata, I told her “you know my sleeping problem, it’s just a hard time I’m going through and I need some to have a good sleep.” That worked of course, what kind of degenerated mother wants to see her child being sleepless?
Unfortunately my sleep wasn’t so good. I kept thinking of what a wonderful sleep I would have had if my mom wasn’t so stingy.
Ewww
Ma uitam din intamplare pe Discovery la o emisiune… cred ca se numeste Cum-va-mai-facem-scarba-azi. Acolo o adunatura de obsedati aduna niste viermi dezgustatori, asemanatori unor rame mari si grase. E vorba de o tehnica pe care ti-o poti perfectiona numai cautand viermi prin noroi cu rabdare si simuland foarte bine normalitatea, care se opune de aceasta data notiunii de anormalitate ca greata. Dupa ce ii iau in mana si ii evalueaza, ii cantaresc cu privirea pe toate partile, dupa toate acestea, culegatorii de viermi ii … spala, si asta tot cu mainile!! Mainile goale, fara manusi!!!
Apoi se duc sa ii numere, unul cate unul, incet, cu rabdare, atingand aceeasi forma alunecoasa, moale si rozalie de cate ori e nevoie. Ii numara pentru a-i vinde. Cred ca de-aia tipul ala prinsese numai 15, ca sa nu aiba ce sa numere. Si, pentru ca asta nu era de ajuns, trebuie sa demonstreze cum pot chestiile astea sa muste. Procedeul e simplu si consta in a plasa vreo duzina de viermi pe mana si a astepta ca unul sa scoata capul si sa muste. Si dupa toate astea trebuie sa mai si zambesti in fata camerei. Cred ca datu’ la boboci se intampla intre doua secunde de filmari. Acu’ io stau si ma intreb… daca viermii astia sunt folositi la pescuit, pestii care sunt prinsi cu ei or fi ajuns vreodata in Romania? Hmm, nu cred ca acei viermi cu pesti cu tot, dar am o teorie conform careia toti pestii sunt prinsi cu viermi si prin urmare cred ca trec din nou la o dieta vegetariana.
OK,OK, stiu ca nu o sa o fac iar, dar renunt definitiv la peste.
Culesul de melci e mai nobil decat pescuitul, nu implica nici viermi si nici carlige. Asa ca o sa incep sa mananc melci.
Sibiu at a glance
With its relaxed atmosphere and great architecture, Sibiu is the place where you want to enjoy a coffee in a nice classy jazz place or have a kebab in the middle of the night with your beloved. And you can also enjoy the sights, because there are plenty of things to stare at.
Lemme tell your fortune
Sibiu bus station. This european-like city lodged some gipsies in the main gara, to my surprise. Surprise I say because in my naivety I was expecting this former european cultural capital to have solved its problems of sorts.
The gypsies were feeling free to do whatever, and since no one seemed to be upset, they can brestfeed the babies right there.
Some others were just minding their own business, waiting for the bus to show up.
The kid, having been fed, was then passed to the granma.
They were basically hanging around, hunting with their eyes the credulous prey. I did not seem to qualify for such an honor, even with my easily noticeable camera that was making me look more like a tourist. I guess that was because I passed the test, when asked something in Romanian I answered back politely in the same language. Some others, less lucky, got surrounded by all these women, and their skirts.
The guy they put their claws on did not look Romanian. And if he was Romanian, he must have been very soft. The gypsy ladies were trying to sell him a fake golden ring and they all seemed to have a problem in getting to an agreement. One of them girls was smarter. She just took the money-that he had the brilliant idea to somehow take out- right from his hand and right away replaced it with the glittering tin. And so he was left, eyes gaping in the sun.
Ssssuntem chit
De cand sunt mica am avut o fobie de serpi. Nu era doar o teama sau o neplacere provocata de vederea vreunei asemenea creaturi, ci o reactie morbida la tot ce tinea de reptile in general si de serpi in special. Uram si cred (nu vreau sa ma concentrez prea tare) ca inca nu imi face placere sa ma gandesc la formele lor de taratoare reci si dezgustatoare. Visam foarte des serpi si de cele mai multe ori ma muscau in vis. Aveam senzatia ca simt piscatura cu adevarat iar cand ma trezeam ma uitam sa vad daca ma muscase vreun purice, un tantar, ceva… Nu era necesar sa ii vad si mi se facea parul maciuca, pentru ca nu cred sa fi vazut unul mai mult de o data. Iar cand ii apareau la televizor, preferam sa nu ma uit sau sa schimb canalul. Nu-i suportam nici macar pe cei facuti din lemn sau din plastic, toate formele serpesti mi se pareau scarboase.
Cu timpul am inceput doar sa-i visez, erau acolo, dar nu ma mai muscau. Uneori la fel de multi ca inainte, dar alteori mai putini. Cu timpul s-au imputinat vizibil si dupa aceea au disparut. Scapasem de cosmarul de a fi urmarita implacabil peste tot de ei. Cred ca deja incepe sa imi revina fobia… daca mai vorbesc mult despre ei, cel putin la plural.
Si astazi am avut o revelatie. Cand eram mici, ne duceau ai nostri la tara. Acolo aveam o casa veche in care nu mai locuia nimeni si pe langa care bunica spunea ca sunt serpi. Intr-o zi am gasit o gaura in gradina si, cu un betigas anemic, am zgandarit-o, am marit-o, am scobit eu acolo cat am scobit pana am vazut un cap iesind din ea. Era bineinteles un cap de sarpe mic si subtire. Cred ca imi aduc aminte si acum ca era de un verde deschis cu niste picatele negre. Cel putin asa mi-l amintesc. Nu crezusem ca perspectiva se putea schimba asa usor. Inainte de a-l vedea, cautam infrigurata gandind ca o sa le vin eu de hac serpilor. In clipa in care l-am vazut, toata determinarea mea s-a transformat intr-o teama de cosmar, mi se facuse o frica din aia seculara ca ma va musca, ca ma va urmari pana in casa, chiar daca voi alerga eu cat ma tineau picioarele. Am inceput sa il imping, sa il intep, sa il apas, sa il inghesui acolo, in pamant, cu obstinare, cu convingere, de parca ar fi fost o chestie de viata si de moarte, gandind, pe masura ce betigasul se faramita si se scurta, ca trebuie sa il inving. Am cautat cu privirea o noua arma de exterminare, o piatra, alt bat, o caramida, dar spre nenorocul meu nu erau prea multe chestii in apropiere iar eu nu imi puteam lua batul de pe sarpe caci m-ar fi inhatat. Dupa confruntarea de tensiune maxima dintre mine si serpisor, cand am vazut ca nu se mai misca si ramasa fara alte resurse de exterminare a proaspatului meu dusman, am fugit repede cat mai aproape de oamenii mari.
Cred ca dumnezeul serpilor are un mod destul de cinic de a se razbuna pe aceia care fac rau supusilor lui. Cred ca, din fericire, li s-au sters niste fisiere, ceva, pe acolo, underground, ca m-au lasat in pace dupa atatia ani.
No commentsCovrigi si alte chestii senzuale
Acum spune, daca manac covrigeii astia, o sa ma vrei mai tare? Uite ca sunt in culmea placerii, si culmea!… nu pare a fi una de ordin gastric…
The hand job, daca pot sa-i spun asa, e foarte nereusita. Covrigii sunt mult mai mari decat ar trebui, sunt asezati gresit sau ca si cum cineva ar fi pe cale sa se indoape cu ei in fuga, neconcordand deloc cu figura suava si plina de concentrare subtila a tipei.
2 comments
Communist ratio card
This is an old card I have found in my family’s “archive”. It was used during the communism to measure the food you got, mainly the bread, flour and oil. The people who lived in the contry side were forced to give either milk, eggs, meat and fruits alltogether, or cereals, depending on what people were cultivating and growing in different areas.
You could’ve gotten each month one kilogram of flour (= 2 pounds), one of oil, and the same with sugar and maize. I also find out that in the cities you could have gotten 5 slices of real salami per month. Really?
Make no mistake, there were things to buy… like milk, beggining with 4 or 5 am in the morning, because if you got there later you risked of being milkless for your indolence. On the other hand you could just come and stay there with a chair from the evening before or late at night so you be the first on the line when the milk is on the race.
And powdered egg. And… pig heads, that must have been a real feast. And soy salami, why, you all need to be vegetarians cause we tell you to. If you did not turn vegetarian because you could only eat soy salami, you would definately do it because of refusing to eat the pork heads. Maybe some pork legs would do. Or, as people called these pig feet, Adidas. The name compensates for the lack of style. Oh, and a bread a week. Really, no you need to go on a diet, the diet of all people that are equal.
Same things, from a different angle:
My great grandfathers lived in the country side. So did my granma, with them. There was so little food sometimes that they wouldn’t know what to eat. One day, while she was sowing the ground, my great grandmother caught a deer by the foot. It did not run, it did not make any noise. That was a good thing, because you were not allowed to hunt. Not even kill your own livestock, whithout announcing Big Brother, except for pork. And people were afraid anyways to do too much. They ate the deer. They told us kids, just in case someone would ask, that it was a pork they had cut. They burried the skin so that not even dogs would find it.
To make a living my grandma was making tuica (she would sometimes exchange tuica for food). At that time it was illegal to do it without approvals or just illegal, I don’t remember exactly. And since the officialities could not get their presumtion confirmed from grown up traitors, they thought to ask the kids. I can remember even now the tall imposing policeman that asked “Is your granma making tuica?” while we were looking up at him for the dwarf-sized kindergarten chairs. I ignored him. My littler sister, just a kid of 3, could not defend herself, even if the teacher was insisting on him to leave us kids alone. So my sister admitted that it was true. The officialities never knew about this. The policeman had suddenly become a good friend who came to visit often, to pick up his payment.
I don’t recall too much more. All I really remember is seeing the pork head and thinking it was so disgusting. And that soon after the revolution you could buy oranges, without actually having to wait for 3 hours in a line while making room with your elbows. That was enough for me as a kid to understand that something was better. Plus the school vacation, wich suddenly got bigger!
