In the beginning of this note about the trip to Timisoara I'd like to
make a small digression concerning some critics my subjective propaganda
dedicated web resource received recently. This time they criticized some
statements made by me on the site, along with the languages they were
Not so long ago the English version of the summer nights text was commented in Romanian by someone Gheorghe.
After a closer look (by IP address) he turned out to be a vigorous Finnish
lady from Bucharest with whom I had a pleasure to have a discussion by e-mail
once. I said Finnish because Finland is the country where he currently
lives, and it looks like either because of the language barrier or maybe
some reasons related to appearance, normal healthy sex is a rare thing
in her life. Otherwise why berate Pumpsie
so angrily? Interest for politics and to her own national
inferiority are most likey to have such a reason. In her comment
Gheorghe accused me of libel as well as of publication of different
materials depending on the language they're written in. Particularly she
felt offended by the statement that the majority of the "Old times" club
visitors were virtually living in America. The reason for me to write it
was a big American flag I saw under the ceiling there. You can imagine
where Baia Mare is situated and where is America, can't you? That's what
I meant too.
According to Gheorghe, my guilt is that the statement was published in
English, without a translation into Romanian. Well, first of all, I'm
quite aware of the fact that there are a lot of Romanians around who are
able to comprehend English. Also on the first page of the site there is
a list of all the recently written texts, no matter in which language
they are. And last but not least, the majority of texts (including this
one) are usually written the following way. Originally I write in
Russian, and then with a great, almost titanic, effort a text is
translated into English. The effort is so big that after applying it I
don't feel like translating it into Romanian at all. There are though
some specific texts written especially for the Romanian version of the
site. Usually they are related to the subjects that are interesting only
inside Romania, such as this one where
it says about the first 100% Romanian weblogs resource which got
launched quickly (in 19 days) after my article on the topic
was published in local press.
Thus, there is a message to all of you who sees a conspiracy theory
where I don't translate some texts from one language into another.
Instead of hating me, piercing a wodoo puppet symbolizing me and throwing
my portraits into lavatory pan, just take such a text and translate it
yourself. After I make sure everything it says reflects the original
thoughts well, the translation will be published. Below the text
depending on your will, we can add a name, a photo or anything else
you'd like to see there. Besides this, a translator can write several
words about him(her) self. Like "single Romanian girl lost in Finnish
forests is looking for a handsome Lappis (two, three) to have
some pleasures of Platonic, and also oral and anal kinds together".
That's it. No problem and everyone's happy.
Now about Timisoara. Since quite a while I wanted to visit the city. They
said I would see a neat old houses built during the Austo-Hungarian period, offices
furnished in extreme, people shining of prosperity, as well as crowds of
First mentioning about the city is dated 1154 year when an Arab
geographer Sarif al Idrisi wrote: "Timisoara is a nice city, offering
great riches". Since then a lot of things happened in the place situated
near Hungarian and Serbian borders. Like, in 1552 the city was captured
by Turks in whose possesion it remained till 1716 when the Austrian
prince Eugen de Savoya banished them annexing Timisoara to his own
posessions. During the Austrian rule the city suffered two epedemics of
plague (1738-1739 and 1762-1763). Then during some time it was trying to get
independence from Austro-Hungary, being reannexed every time. In 1918 there
was an annex attempt by Serbs, but in 1919 the city got a Romanian
administration. In July 1944 Timisoara was bombed by the airforces
of the US and the Great Britain, the same year in September the Soviet
army entered the city. In December 1989 Timisoara was the first Romanian
city free of communism.
The city is also full of traditions. First in Romania it got street
illumination with gas (1857), and then first in Europe was illuminated with
electricity (1884). The beer factory was built in 1718, and the first
tram (first in Romania again, horse-driven) was launched there in 1869.
With education it wasn't so great, because the universities were founded
quite late: medicine in 1946, and the state university in 1948.
A visit to such a city was going to be an interesting adventure. Of
course, it would be impossible to see everything in two days, and I
quite realized that. Though I suppose some things I did manage to see.
The thing I don't like about Baia Mare a lot is its being located on
outskirts. That's why getting somewhere from it is a real adventure. To
be frank, there are too few things left that I like about the city. With
the help of the database at cfr.ro I found out there was only one train going
daily to Timisoara from here. It was fast: the distance of 417 kms was
done in 7 hours and a half. At the other hand, the time for the train
was chosen extremely "properly", for it was night. For those of you who
have no idea about what Romanian railways are like, there is some info
in brief. There are coaches of 1st and 2nd class, and also two types of
sleeping-cars. The 1st class usually means 6 soft sitting places in a
compartment, the 2nd means 8. The main difference between the two types
of sleeping-cars is the amount of places, too. The one called "cusheta"
has 6 places, and "vagon de dormit" -- 2 in every compartment. Once I
was going from Iasi to Bucharest with "cusheta", and there were only
four people in every compartment, though the amount of places, as I said
before, was 6, placed in three rows. I also remember folding bars made
especially so that a sleeping passenger doesn't fall down from his
shelf. Sincerely, I was glad to see them. Immediately I remembered my
first time in a train back in childhood. It was something new, and I
insisted that I slept on the upper shelf. So how I was sleeping there
curled up in the same figure I fallen down by surprised mom who was
Despite the Baia Mare-Timisoara train goes over night, there are only
1st and 2nd classes in it. The main difference between them is price,
because there would be no comfortable sleeping in any of them. The lack
of sleeping-cars upset me, but couldn't cancel the travel. It was
already arranged with Vlad who was meant to meet me in the railway
station in the morning.
In the train there was a nice fellow traveller who I met back at the
railway-station. She was probably the sole young lady among old women
with bags and provincial men who were going to their villages situated
along the way. In compartment with us there were two old guys and one
old lady with a three years old granddaughter. A nice, active and
communicative girl called Teodora first was asking everyone if they
liked it in train, then said "go sleep or I'll beat you" and finished
with the phrase "gonna piss". Actually she was the only one who could
sleep well. Neither me nor Magda (that's how my fellow traveller's name
was), could sleep no matter how hard we tried to make us comfortable in
our chairs. Also we spoke on various topics. Like, there will be no
major demographic catastrophies in Romania, because large families are
not a rare thing here. Magda told me that her parents had yet 7 children
besides her. And when I took up a 2L bottle of "Coca-cola" immediately I
was informed on results of a very interesting experiment. One day in
order to break her of drinking the aerated imperialism someone left a
small piece of meat in a saucer with "Coca-cola". By morning the meat
got dissolved completely. It would had sounded ok if not the following
conclusion. The lady decided to switch to "Fanta". I assumed that the
only difference between the "Fanta" and "Cola" drinks was the taste,
while the chemical formula was most likely the same. Obviously, I asked
her if she tried to put meat into "Fanta". The lady felt inspired.
After coming at 8:11am Konst looked like a zombie. In such a state he
was met by Vlad who now works for the Romanian branch of the "Alcatel"
French company. My look was even sombrer because I realized that I made
a major negligence during preparations. I totally forgot to take the USB
cable for my digital camera. Now it feels much better with a 128Mb
flash, but during the trip to Timisoara not having a possibility to
download photos to computer I managed to make only 16 shots in 1024x768
resolution. How naive I was hoping that it was the case when I didn't
forget anything during my travel preparations!
Just after meeting me Vlad said it cheerfully that our schedule for that
day was almost put together: we would see the city, visit clubs and see
the wet shirts contest if we find it. According to rumours it was meant
to happen at one of the shtrands. Shtrand is such a pond in the open
air, a very popular Romanian distraction, even in Baia Mare you can find
one. As to Timisoara, there are dozens.
Vlad lives on the street called Circumvolatiunii (possessive from
Circumvolatiune, a misterious word whose meaning noone knew). Dictating
on the phone his address if any, Vlad said Circul Volatiunii
(volatiune's cirus) and amused me a lot. I said it must be interesting
to live in circus, though you have to be attentive not to get biten by
tigers. Overby the block Vlad lived in we had a coffee, at his place I
left my gear, had a shower and we went to discover the city, saw the
main places of interests: two central squares, and took a picture with a
waitress in a cafe where we had our first beer, etc. It's easy to notice
Timisoara is a students' city: waitresses at all the places are mainly
young and pretty girls, unlike mature and experienced ones in small
towns such as Baia Mare.
Won't bother you describing every step, because it wouldn't sound
interesting for anyone. Instead, there are some sketchings.
As to me, Timisoara consists of the following four parts:
1) Liberty and Unity squares;
2) embankment of the Bega river, along which there are numerous
shtrands; also in some places there are cafes in cutters staying on the
3) students' complex;
4) the rest.
The latter includes such beautiful places as the park of roses, the
central park, and other green tracts. The students' complex is an
amazing place. First, the majority of clubs, cafes and other fun places
are situated there. Second, the dorms with hundreds of thousands
students who came from different locations. Wearing bras is not among
habits of the female ones, especially when it's hot outside. That's why
thekonst.net decided to decorate Timisoara with the title of the
boobiest city of Romania. Having in mind that this country from
the very beginning impressed me by immense balconies many girls have
here, in Timisoara I just was dazzled. Unfortunatelly, the "westness" of
the city, from what I saw, didn't affect the local beauties' mentality,
thus they behave just like the ones from the rest of Romania. Becoming
acquainted with a girl in a cafe or at a disco is a great luck. As a
pure experiment I tried to. Generally I wonder why they come there.
The first day of my stay in the evening an outing to a club was planned.
The place called "The Note" was situated somewhere between the students'
complex and beer factory. First we spent some time looking for it.
Finally found, I realized it was indeed a pretty club with a nice
interior. Probably the best club scenery I'd ever seen in Romania.
"Viper" from Iasi was good, but rather small and modest in comparison
with "The Note". At the other hand, despite I visited such major cities
as Bucharest and Brasov, I had no time to take a walk through clubs
there. So who really knows what kind of places they have. Judging from
the stand with photos we found on the club's wall, "The Note" was a kind
of Mecca, that was visited by all reprezentatives of the Romanian stage.
Many of them, starting with rockers and finishing with pop girls, were
shown in the club's interior on exposed shots. As you probably know the
more quality grows, so does price. Thus, I wasn't surprised too much by
the menu. I had "Martini" which cost 48.000 lei ($1.5) for 40 ml. Maybe
because of the prices there were not a lot of people, and we decided to
move to "Gulliver", another club placed on the entrance to the complex
"Gulliver" was a quite students' place, however very well looking too.
Unlike many places in Baia Mare, there were no chairs of plastic which I
hate personally. The prices difference comparing to "The Note" wasn't
big, and that surprised me. Like, the same portion of "Martini" in
"Gulliver" wasn't much cheaper -- 40.000 lei. We took a bottle of 0.7L
which cost us 400.000, and then stayed and danced till 2am. As to
"Martini", buying bottle is more than just advantageous. 400.000/700 =
571, and 571*40 = 22840 lei instead of 40000 for 40 ml.
Walking along the city the next days once I caught myself on the thought
that everything I was seeing reminded me of something. That twisted
asphalt under the feet instead of usual Romanian concrete. River, wide
streets, students, the plain instead of hills or mountains.. "God damn
me", -- I thought, -- "Kharkov!". As to me, there are quite enough
similarities. Crossed by bridges, the Bega river flows through whole the
city, just like Lopan' in Kharkov. Crowds of students who fill all the
cafes and restaurants in the evening in spite of the session. Life in
the dorms district is going on non-stop, day and night. It feels quite
well that you came to a real city with developed science, education and
culture areas. However, you probably won't like it from the first sight,
like Brasov impressed me with its natural beauty last year. You have to
walk through Timisoara, look at its streets and buildings, find out
something from its history and then the capital of the Romanian
Revolution will definitely conquer your heart.
I cannot say I saw even a half of the city. I walked through whole the
downtown and its neighbour areas, also saw the embankment. Attended a
swimming pool for what I'd like to say thanks to "Alcatel". Those guys
have a total socialism at their company, you know. For 50.000 lei (less
than $2) per year a worker gets a subscription for a swimming
pool, canteen, language courses, etc. Each of the things for 50.000
lei/year. In addition, you can bring one person with you to the pool, so
Vlad made use of it, giving me a possibility to try their swimming
place. Wouldn't say it impressed me too much, because it was quite
minimalistic. The pool in the house of sports of the Polytechnical
University in Kharkov with its automatic boxes for clothes, clock, water
temperature indicator on the wall and tribunes was a science fiction in
comparison with that one. At the other hand, I wasn't in other swimming
pools of Timisoara, and the one where "Alcatel" swam wasn't one of the
central ones at all.
We didn't manage to find any wet shirts contest. Anyway, because of the
bad amnesy of yours sincerelly we had no chance to take shots of its
participants. Second, after we saw all of those shtrands I began to
doubt if it such a contest was something actual for Timisoara. You could
easily see females taking sun baths with their tits undressed, just like
we saw it in Costinesti on the
sea-shore last year. So why put on a shirt and wet it? Someone wanna say
they haven't seen anything there?
The Western part of Romania was always famous for its rock music traditions.
Even in Baia Mare according to the elder locals there was a place called
"rockoteca", and several rock-bars. Despite now this direction of the fun
industry withered, you still can see long-haired young men wearing black
in the streets quite often. So concerning this, I expected to see something
absolutely amazing in Timisoara. And I saw it.
Once walking through the junction near the St. Gheorge monument (the
city patron, just like his colleague from Moscow he holds a spear and
there is a thrown dragon also), I saw a door with the "club rock"
inscription. I memorized the place approximatively and in the evening
told Vlad about the discovery of mine. So we went there to have some
beer. The club was called "Cargo", just like one of the most famous
Romanian rock bands. There are a lot of bands, and the both are good :)
(the second one is "Iris"). The club inspired very positive impressions.
Being used to the stereotype that rock clubs are shabby basements with
strong odour of beer, sewage and punks' socks, I was surprised by a nice
room firnished with wide black arm-chairs of leather, with guitars and
photographs on the walls. In a quality musical centre (it wasn't an old
piece of hardware with winamp running on it like in the majority of
clubs) was playing "Metallica", and on the wall there was a skeleton
dressed in loose overall in natural size, and a picture of some
Staying in such a club felt nice. There were not a lot of people,
probably because the next day was a work day, at the counter there was a
beatiful girl with a good shape dressed in clothes that accentuated all
of her advantages. Quickly, she brought us beer. The music was
conductive to talks about rock, and so we did. A small excess had place:
a clear hip-hop started playing, and when I protested the nice bar-girl
told me the following: "how come "kid rock" is not a rock music?". I had
to explain that if tomorrow "Backstreet boys" change their name to "Rock
forever niggaz", leaving the same repertoire, it ought not mean they
must be included into the scale of a club positioning itself as a place
devoted to rock.
The evening didn't finish quickly. We had more beer at a non-stop summer
cafe overby Vlad's house. There I asked the waitress how to play the
"Tuborg" action and was inviting her to take a ride on a freshly won
"Mercedes" cars the next day. She didn't look much against the idea.
Also we saw a policemen who came after barman's documents. The point was
that a pensioner who lived in a block on the other side of the road (I
suppose so, because there were no live blocks on the cafe's side)
complained about music being too loud. The policeman busily came to the
barman and demanded his id. Having took it he left and the oldie was
walking among the tables with a victorious look. The guy then phoned his
boss and told him about the happening.
I definitely like the Romanians for their composure when communicating
with officials. You can notice it at the both sides. I had an occasion
to deal with police here and I know what I'm talking about. But the best
example would be the story told me buy a colleague from the Republic of
Moldova. The following scene he saw in Bucharest several years ago and
it sounded quite trustworthy to me. It was in a bus. A policeman in his
uniform was sitting somewhere near entrance. An absolutely drunk guy
entered the bus on a stop. He stood exactly near the bobby, the bus went
further and the guy was hardly standing on his feet. It looked like a
bit more and he would fall down on the policeman. However, the latter
stood up, talking to the drunk: "please, take a seat". Himself he stood
aside. I'm almost sure that somewhere in the former USSR the guy would
had earned a couple of strokes in his head for sure. But what for? I
know, in Ukraine there is the article 172 of the administrative code (as
far as I remember it), the 2nd paragraph.. But who can swear he would
never drink too much, that he wouldn't get drunk.. So why beat such a
Torture by TV
Vlad is a happy owner of a box with luminous pictures. TV-set, speaking
simply. Being the one who voluntary renounced on this comfort of
civilization (or scourge of the mandkind), I decided to take a look.
First we watched "pokemons", an absolutely genial crap created, as far
as I understood, by someone who ate too much hallcinogenic mushrooms.
Then there were music channels. I concluded that the Romanian band
called "Hara" would never have a chance to give a concert in Israel. The
point is that "hara" means "shit" in Hebrew. At the other hand, this
word is probably the best description of their music. There also was a
Hungarian channel. A band which I had a pleasure to see, consisted of
two typical office-cleaner girls and one guy, who dreamed of becoming a
pilot in childhood and because of that falled many times from the
height. For some reason, the way he looked reminded of Mr. Bean.
The train schedule on the Timisoara-Baia Mare route is made up extremely
clever on the both directions. The train back leaves at 3:15pm, thus the
day is lost anyway. But not having other options such as personal car
(which is most likely my shortcoming, and not CFR's ;), at 3:15pm I left
to Baia Mare. My fellow traveller this time was a girl of about 16, who
was going to Satu Mare. I won't sin against the truth too much if I say
that the majority of young ladies in Romania smoke. Yes, I consider that
horrible, unhealthy and definitely has a negative influence on the
health of future generations, but it's so. All my friends took note of
it here. Coming to Ukraine, they just like myself notice the difference.
Let's say in Ukraine a half of young people smoke. But hey, half is not
90%. My young fellow traveller called Roxana was having a cigarette
every 10 minutes. Besides her, there was quite a lot of people in the
compartment, all the 8 places were occupied. Like, there was a boy who
read the "goods" word on one of coaches and said it in loud voice
thoughtfully: "goods.. goods.. tons of goods". However, the most
interesting character was a silent guy of about 30 years old. He was
reading computers literature all the way. Literally he had all the
recent issues of all Romanian computers related editorials, such as "PC
World", "CHIP", "The portal".. The culmination was when it was the turn
of "PC Magazine" in which he read my
article about personal web sites and weblogs attentively. In such
moments I understand the power of own printed word more than usual.
But tonight my words are electronic. Of course, you can materialize them
by printing out this text and putting it above your desk or cleaning
your ass with it, for the text's volume (with the condition it's printed
out as a whole) quite allows to eliminate consequences of the most evil
diarrhea. Myself I finish here, so that soon to get started on another
report, this time about Chisinau where I was a week later. Be well.