Stand up for your light!

Finally have the time to write again. No, it is nothing like ‘making time’, it’s ‘finding time‘. The last two months I have moved three times; from Romania to Berlin -into my old WG- then one month to a temporary room and now finally settling down in my new room in a fabulous house, without any exploration date.

Spend the entire last week on a ladder or on my knees, covered in white paint or wondering around in DIY heaven OBI. This lovely shop, almost as amazing as Liddl, was part of my well thought out strategy: LEAVE THE HOUSE AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH!

Every time I went over I made myself brush my teeth -hoping not to scare away the paint, brushes and/or tools I was about to get. On top of this I always ‘accidentally’ forgot something to make sure I had to leave the house the day after. “One, two, three, four…no three sheets of sandpaper will do for today”, I repeatedly said out loud.
Not sure if my picture appeared behind the main-desk yet: “Dangerous and should be taken to closed facility immediately, do not feed!” But, maybe they just ignored me…otherwise I have a good defence: Almost everybody has these funky earphone-phone-clips –ore whatever they are called. I reckon that most of them are schizo anyway and just use them to cover it up. Anyway, let them. I don’t see the problem, you? No, I don’t.

My room. my room, my room is great. Empty and wonderful. Have a cloths rail and a mattress. That’s it. The house is massif, we even have table football and there is a lovely little church over the road. Home is on the Corner of Richardsplatz, but don’t really want to explain more than that neighbourhood used to be a village, still is. We live opposite a blacksmith. Maybe more next time. Maybe not.

At the moment -time of writing- I’m on the train to Utrecht for a sort of early Christmas surprise trip for my mum and dad …Surprise! The sun is out and the 72 year old lady next to me just told me about her Gran Canaria trip. After this her family came up: She had 6 grandchildren, 4 boys and 2 girls, and a very special one. “Special is good”, I said. She smiled and her white hair glistered in the sun. When I offered her one of my tangerines she turned towards me, straightened her back and said out load: “Did you bring those yourself?” It sounded like one of those singing exercise in which every letter needs to be pitched one tone higher. “Aber natürlich..” It was a 6 hour long journey and I was not buying the expensive stuff from the restaurant.

As long as I can remember I’ve made my own lunch package. Everywhere I go I take my bright red Tupperware box with me, filled with yummieness. This loyal companion has been in the family since the Tupperware parties invaded Holland and she...it's a lady... survived many battles against plastic bags and cafeteria food. She does have some knife wounds. To not go overboard I skipped the fact I also backed the bread the night before. This made me wonder, am I old fashioned?

Yesterday afternoon I went to see the lill kids of the hood with their St. Martin's Day lanterns. The parade started in front of the Curch and I wish I had time to make one myself. Unfortunately I was over my head op up Panfu translation work: a new quest about a cursed Diamond, a mummy that’s falling apart and a pirate who lost his parrot. But can’t say more, TOP SECRET!

So, all was happy…till my housemates told me something extremely disturbing and horribly wrong: Most lanterns have electric lights, the real candles have been replaced!!
Where was I when this happened?! Who asked my approval?!! Outrageous! Explanation was that is was saver….SAVER! Yeah sure… much saver to NOT teach our children to handle fire. Right! “This is fire, it can be dangerous... but I’m not going to teach you how to handle it!? By the way, when was the last St. Martin's parade disaster??? Aaa, I see…better let them play with toy guns so they can grow up and fight in some stupid war for the sake of….I forgot.

Electric fucking light! For fuck sake! I’m not sure if I’m old fashioned, better call it slight traditional. You shouldn’t mess with these kind of traditions; the lovely ones that only bring happiness and joy. The candle in the lantern should represents light and warmth. Although I’m not a very traditional Christian, I love the gesture of caring for and passing on the light: A little flame that can be blown out by a slight breeze and need to be handled with care. Should we not learn those kiddos how to be careful, to take care of their lantern...and each other. Not everything can be fixed with technology.

Where is this going, are the candles is the Church going to be next? Will there be energy saving light bulbs switched on instead of candles lit during the x-mass mass? Ten years from now? Maybe five? All those candles can be dangerous....and then there was light, click, switch, plop!
Would you be able to donate a let lamp to remember the death? No more candle wax but special sockets and extension lead options at every bench. "I have a Mary-membership, my lead goes as far as the altar." .....parents have to remind their children not only to bring the bible.. but also the bulb.

Please lill candle, don’t let it get to you! Stand up for your light!

Play with your food

Tomato Talk from oodie on Vimeo.

The aim of playing with your food is only the playing itself and nothing else. Try it before you grow up! You can always go back to "normal life" so take the risk of getting lost in your own imagination.

It's fun, trust me. Enjoy!

The war is over.

Last week I saw myself, not in the mirror but in theatre. I applied for an improvisation theatre training in Serbia and got accepted, not sure why they let a Dutch girl represent Romania, but I’m positive that they didn’t have the slightest idea what they were getting themselves into. It was a seven days training in the small village of Kovačica, about an hour away from Belgrade. Travelled by train from Bucharest to Belgrade, takes 12 hours, and got this travel goody bag; slippers, a little towel, soap and one of those horribly smelling dis invective tissues.
The theme of the training was about how to use improvisation theatre to prevent unemployment. Interesting…. that’s also what I thought....

As entering and leaving a place or group had became a well oiled routine in my life, I thought I knew what to expect. Always on the safety hook I entered the group. I was still busy with thinking about the projects I needed to finish back in Bucharest and taking care of my Pandas, the fuckers. I wasn’t really there till I was put in the spot of no return...

During one exercise we needed to play with changing of status, I wanted to play it save and got on stage with in my head the role of a neutral character... but the an other actors decided I was the bad boyfriend with a very high status. Ehhh.... But within a split second I completely went for it, opened my draw of memories of asshole boyfriends and copied their behaviour without a single thought. When we changed status my 'stage girlfriend' showed me that she could do without me and I had to except it. It was great improvisation, and even more important: I left all my bad experiences in it. I sort of said goodbye to my negative feelings I had with men. My trainer did wonder if I hate men, hahaha..NO!

From that moment on I discovered the power of improvisation, the things you can put on stage from your own experience without other people knowing it. The group was very safe and friendly and -quite important- they didn’t know me. Find it easier to be open and perform for and with strangers. One of the rules of impro is: Dare to take a risk…maybe it's my time to take a risks. You might think I already do, but sorry... you’re wrong! Yeah… I move around and change hairstyle, job and county before I can properly remember my address, but it’s time for me to take another kind of risk. The risk of choosing; my EVS time in Romania is almost finished, what will I do? What does my heart say…settle down? Which direction to go into? Country, project…life? I need and will choose. Soon.

Something else…but not really. This training also made realize and decided I have to take the risk of loving. We did an exercise in which we needed to send love to someone on the other side of the room without speaking…It surprised me how much love I could give, how much I trapped inside and how difficult I could unleash it. Finally I did it, and it was great! Obviously shits scared it’s unwanted and will end up hurting me I decided that I’m also going to give it a chance in real life, not the least the love for myself.

The group we worked in was a very multicultural group; Serbians, Bosnians, Macedonians, Polish, Swedish, Albanians, Italians, Portuguese. It was sort of magical because it felt like we lived in our own temporary county. The hotel we stayed was amazing: bungalows with pool, gym and a great restaurant. Life is hard!

I’d never been to any former Yugoslavian country and the image of war was still very present in my mind, had no idea what to expect. The media put this image in my head about what happened, but who decides what's true? It’s funny to realize that I’m still ignorant. Of course the war left its traces behind, but things changed. After the Yugoslavia tribunal the Balkans left a big question mark in my head….which countries are there now? How are they being ruled? Are the ‘bad guys’ gone? Is it safe? To be honest didn’t find the answers back then and just put my questions in the box of “Things I want to find out, but not right now”. This was a long time ago, but the horrible images of back then stayed in my head. I must be true, on my journey to Serbia the war crimes and ethnic conflicts of back then wondered around in my mind. Actually no better place to have an intercultural training. We exchanges a lot of stories and feelings over diners en drinks, so different but although so similar..

Also visited the museum of Naive art in Kovačica, besides our home for a week the birthplace of Zuzana Chalupová…. my new idol and inspiration. She shows that you don’t have to have to be trained in an academy or other traditional manner to create great work. Her devotion and childlike images made me smile and opened my eyes in accepting I don’t have to go the usual route to create wonderful things. I can do it too! I am doing it, but now dare to say it.

That brings me back to the aim of the training, confidence is the most important skill young people should develop. Theatre -and especially improvisation, that can be done by anyone- helps to develop this sense of belief in your own skills and therefore is an inspiration to be active in finding your path, your work and your way of living. It worked for me, and I can't wait to inspire others. Next chapter soon.

Don't forget to play with your food.

Love, Judith

Who's that girl...

And what is she actually doing... besides eating a tomato?

I realize that for the past few months I actually haven’t described what it is I’m actually doing here.

Yeah, you probably know I live in Bucharest and am part of this European Voluntary scheme....

but what does that tell you? Not much.

Because I haven’t updated my blog for quite some time, and not everybody has been following me like an Elvis hawk, some question marks will appear. Maybe I can clear things up. I will try at least.

So, at the moment I just found out my next meeting is going to be late and I made myself comfortable at Piatia Unirii on a bench next to the fountain. I was supposed to meet this lady at KFC, best meeting point after Pillars, but she was held up at the dentist. I bought myself a big bottle of ice tea and started to make a list of the things I have done last week.

This is not that simple task, trust me please. It's ended up being a quite a random list of things that have all in common being passionate and having loads of fun.... of course. It needs to fits into the way I want to live, but I wont try to explain which way that is. A few things that occurred; Lorena, a short term volunteer from Spain, and I locked ourselves in for most of the weekend making promo stop-motion animations for the next Art-Fusion festival. It was great. Not all are finished...yet.

check: vimeo.com/5453367

I also tried to finish off my Forum Theatre retrospective but got lost somewhere in the middle. Focus!

Valters -my great and at the moment only house mate/ fellow EVS- and I started our research about how people see Bucharest. It became clear, after a couple of months of living here, that the contrast between people that love and hate his city is very big. This intrigued us, as you probably noticed in some of my previous stories. Valters had the idea to incorporate creative writing into it and we got in contact with another small NGO, Art-Perspective, that represents Loesje Romania. Of course you know Loesje…www.loesje.org

On our request they ran a creative writing workshop last Sunday which we analysed and really want to discuss. That’s why I’m waiting; the KFC lady is from Art-perspective. Will meet Valters in front of the mutated chicken center.

Tonight we will hopefully manage to get some rough drafts for the posters that we want to use in our documentary. We basically want to use the posters as a starting point for a debate about the image of Bucharest with people on the streets. Wonder how it will go. We need to hurry a bit because I will be out of the country in a few days, this Sunday eve I will leave for a weeks training course about improvisation theatre in Serbia. Yay! Together with the Forum Theatre experience, Art-Fusion projects -and another training I’m attending in Latvia coming August- I want to write a project that I can implement after leaving Romania the end of September. It’s still in progress but will involve young creative people that have fewer opportunities. My EVS finishes at the end of September…not quite sure where to go, but know quite well what to do. Is that not the most important?

Only the funding I should figure out pretty soon, which county will give me some money??

Am confident it will work out, as long as I stay focused. It doesn’t just happen. Do worry sometimes -too much- about what to do, but then someone summarises my way of living and it all becomes clear again. I do exactly what I want to do.

I'll tell you about my Gypsy fascination another time. I have been wearing some traditional clothes and had some unexpected reactions and weird confrontations.

Stuffz and Love.

The perfect imperfect city

It’s been a very long time, some will say too long, but tonight I decided it was time to update my blog. I think I was suffering from the ‘I waited too long and now it becomes too hard to update my blog…. fuck what to do???’ syndrome. I decided to ignore my symptoms and opened a new file. Deep breath…there we go:

Thirty now… it happened in April. But luckily nothing changed. I'm still breathing, and feel more alive than ever. It's amazing how in the past couple of years I really learned to live. I'm not saying that I wasn’t living before, but it feels I’m more and more giving into more my own way of living. Bucharest is my perfect mentor.


I will never completely understand how this city works and why things the way they are, but it’s no longer an issue. I stopped asking questions and just adapt the way she wants me –Bucharest is a lady for the ones that didn’t know yet. A busy lady.

Don’t take the bus, just walk. Forget to try to understand rush hour because it basically lasts the whole day....and for your own sanity; take a book and buy a fan. Don’t get worked up about it, it will only make the heat even more unbearable. Traffic doesn’t magically disappear; the roads are simple not made for that many cars.

But Bucharest had also a very soft and chilled side to it. Life has an easy going speed and whilst walking around town you discover many secret little hideaways that make you forget that you are in a big city. The architecture has a lot to do with this. Long lines of apartment blocks, old demolished buildings, churches randomly put in between -the fact is that almost every building is in a permanent state of being under construction. Like it.
When look in between you'll discover her beauty, promise. But you can also experience quietness in places you wouldn't expect to find it; you literately can be alone on squares where in the past hundreds of people kick-started the revolution. There is space to feel.

A nice thing is that there are no tourists, maybe there are but I don't see them. Have no clue if there is actually a tourist information point and if there is such a ting as a souvenir shop so I hope they leave me alone.

I like that Romanians don’t cover up things that are generally seen as ugly: Ruined buildings and blocks that all look they same besides the advertisement they wear. Like I sad before, I learned to stop question things: They’re building a new apartment block next to a deserted one, a women is shouting on the street that she collects old iron but I never see her carry anything and the sweetshop gets guarded by this man in a bulletproof vest. The simple answer, yes.

Nothing is detached but, when you look at it the first time, you will say I’m crazy. Nothing has to be erased. My life doest have to make sense for others, as long as I can see the bigger picture and I know where I am going.

I grown to just to accept it; this way the city becomes more relaxed. It's actually these imperfection that makes me happy. Therefore growing to accept my own imperfections.

Bucharest is often seen as this very busy city, but not by me. The traffic is the only hectic situation I can think of because, next to the fact it’s not safe to cross the street when it’s green and the entire pavement is used as one big parking lot that quite often makes you have to zig-zag your way through, Bucharest moves in slow motion. It is until know the most relaxed city I have lived in.

Please don’t question why. Why you wake up one day and don’t have any hot water and why is this woman is shouting on the street that she collects old iron but I never see her carry anything? there are now set answers. It’s in my nature to ask these things, but not any more. The great thing is because of this the city and living here becomes relaxed.

Of course there is also injustice in this city, things that should change but will probably take a long time. I don’t like the way wages are unequally divided and beggars and cleaners earn more that the average graduate working for a small NGO. I hate the fact that renting a flat usually cost more than a monthly pay check and a lot of students struggle getting a job after University. But this also has another side to it, a side that makes families and friendships stronger because you really depend on each other. It makes live more difficult but always just having everything you need without having to fight and struggle for it is also not a ticket to happiness.

I rather queue and wait and enjoy what I have been waiting for than being served everything and not having the time to think if I actually really want it.

13 years and proud of it!

The weirdest thing happened to me a couple of weeks ago, I turned 30 and nothing happened… My face just looked like any other day and I still had the urge for bouncing on a trampoline and drinking too many milkshakes. Can I also be found somewhere in the tree of live? Is that my spot just on the right hand side of the apes? There he is: Mister Darwin representing our species completely in black with a big grey beard and a face like thunder…is that me? Do I want to look like Darwin? Please make me a new branch, somewhere between the happy clownfish and the quirky trout…liking the ocean vibe, and Nemo of course.

primăvară frumoasă

‘If I was a bird I would Fly..’


...was written in pencil with elegant Romanian letters on the backside of this photo. Bought loads of beautiful pictures during this antique fare last Saturday at Obor – 1913 up to 1940-
It was a great day that I wanted to write about, but forgot... not on purpose though.

Every time I want to write I get distracted. It’s nothing bad, but I would like to freeze time for day so I can focus on one thing that I want to tell. One thing stands out but then another overthrows it. It’s a bit like our building, besides getting stuck in our lill 1 by 1 lift we also have power and water cuts without any warning. Today was a one of those happy days.


Monday morning, a beautiful warm spring day with the sound of singing birds chasing each other. My Sunday -I work Saturdays- started perfect... if it was not for the builders working on the apartment downstairs that have been my unwanted wake up call for the past 7 days. Today it was drilling, over the weekend they stripped the bathroom and not sure what will be next. But, it was a beautiful day and nothing could ruin my mood, I wanted to go to the gym anyway so rolled out of bed into the kitchen. Had quick breakfast and finished my coffee whilst doing some Panfu translations. Must say that it’s quite exciting in Panfu these days, there is this machine in which you can shrink your panda into a baby....Anyway, I was off to Obor market, the place in which is -besides a gym- a massif food and ‘random things’ market. You can also find here lots of religious stands, and take away food. Jesus is everywhere.

Because the gym doesn’t have a shower –don’t ask- I walked over in my work-out-outfit. It was not too busy. After an hour getting angry at the bike I went to get some tomatoes and a Bretsel as a reward for my hard work, together costing 50 cents. Inside Obor market is this bakery that makes the best Bretsels ever, for 60 bani -12 cent- you have this lush warm piece of heaven. In a couple of greedy bites it was gone and I was on my way back home for a shower. In this short strawl that takes about 5 minutes I shook off a gypsy lady with a golden top that tried to sell me a leather jacket, spotted a new footless beggar, two midgets and could have had my zip repaired at about 5 different mobile stands. You might find the words ‘new beggar’ strange but its not that weird. The beggars of the hood have there regular times and there regular spots you see, some sit in smashed phone boots others next to the fancy pizza restaurant. My favourite beggar is the one with the weighing scales next to the metro station, he smiles –and this is rare. One day I caught him methodically cleaning the dust of his shoes, pulling his torn jacket straight and personaly inviting people to come and find out 'their score' by only saying the word "Un leu!" I saw a proud businessman.

Our flat is close to the metro station, at the flower shop right and then left past the offices and the homeless camp -that for some reason has a fence around it- and then your there.
I'm getting used to taking the stairs, had 3 power cuts the past 2 months and don’t want to risk getting stuck in the smelly lift. Home! First food and then the shower I really needed. When I opened the tap a little steam was pushed out... that was it. Water pressure down, yay. I just accepted it and like there was nothing wrong sat down with a book and a made myself a sandwich with tomato. It wouldn’t last longer than an hour, happened before. The first time we didn’t have gas I got so frustrated and didn’t understand why us and why then and why....I stopped doing this for my own sanity. And of course after less then half an hour everything was back to normal. The workman started their second shift and I was off to a nice café we discovered a couple of weeks ago to chill, write some reports and answer some Panda support emails.

The wind was blowing warm air down the street I was walking through. Although I was wearing my new summer dress -which I bought last week in this dead cheap second hand shop- it was almost too warm. Spring started, what will summer bring? Think I will hide in the hallway of our block or in the National History Museum, not sure which one I fit in best.

Gi Joe

I walked down the stairs of Piata Romana and suddenly it struck me. My body was moving, my legs were placing my feet in front of one another. Besides having emotions that control my everyday life I was still just a human, a physical being.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with feelings and emotions and wonder where my core, my being went. Lost, and so hard to find again.

There are so many legs here, so many bodies standing and waiting. Waiting for what? Is it the metro? Is it something or someone? And when do we know when we got it? Do we still want it when it's finally there, or is it just the longing we like?


Are we supposed to have all these questions or is it just me? I think that most of the time I am confused about what I really want and should be focused on because I get absorbed and distracted by other plans. Plans that are not mine…. Or am I the only one that doesn’t get it, am I actually too scared to surrender to my true emotions, and am I trying to hide behind others? Wonder if I'll discover soon, this maze of concrete might help.

Push the bar and get out of the metro station, into whatever comes next.

Like it here.

Church by the lake

Almost every day I step in dog poo.
It's everywhere.

Even on holy grounds you can't escape it.

Conspiracy theory

Today I found out that my lovely friends in Wales still think about me. Iris, the Art-fusion project coordinator, told me this today in the bus on our way to the Village museum. Yeah, cool….but how does she know this? Lately these things happen to me a bit too much that its becoming strange. I will explain. Iris went to a training in Japan last week where she met Georgie from UNA exchange, the lady that is responsible for my departure to Romania that lives in Cardiff and knows my friend Ewan -and probably many others by now. When Iris told me that back in Wales my friends still think about me I was speechless, turned red and kept on saying “O my god!” Surrounded by Romanians that routinely make a cross whilst passing a church –also in the bus- it must have been quite a funny thing to see. God. I'm not forgotten, can even travel in thoughts from Wales to Japan ending up in Romania by a string of people that all play a role in my life and there random encounters. This maybe sounds a bit soppy, but it made me feel warm inside that after more than a year I’m still in the thoughts of my Welsh friends.

If you think this run-in is bizarre, I will tell you what happened last night. We first watched a film and ate pancakes and a bin bag filled with popcorn at Anna’s and Bzzz, not weird at all. After a lot of laughing and a little nap for most of us we went out dancing in Control, one of many clubs in Bucharest. We got there around midnight in quite a big group. It was busy. I looked around and suddenly someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see who it was and my mouth fell open.

The time in between living in Berlin and moving to Bucharest I lived with my dad in Utrecht for a month. I tried to prepare as much as possible for this whole new culture I was about to enter, and one day I searched on the couch surfing site to see if there were any Romanian speaking people in Utrecht. There was only one match, his name was Zohar, an Israeli guy that lived in Bucharest but moved to Utrecht for his study. We met up for a coffee and he told me a lot about the Romanian culture and Bucharest.

There he was, just visiting for a couple of days. Of the many clubs in Bucharest he decided to go to this one, amazing. After doing the whole “O my god!” routine he introduced me to his friends that wanted to show me this other club. It was on the edge of town, quite expensive and nothing I had ever seen they sad. Needed to see this place! I didn't fit in at all, but loved it al the better. Crystal is the trendy place to be with exotic dancers and funky light shows. So wrong that it was perfect for me. When I got home early in the morning the others weren’t there yet, they came home during my kitchen routine. When I told them about the club they didn’t believe it, Iris kept on shouting “Did you go to Crystal, o my god!” The whole block had an early wake-up call.

The past few days I used the phrase “O my god!” many more times, like when I bought hand made puppets on the market and after having too many milkshakes…. not to forget the fun chicken night.

Love, true.

Our house, in the middle of the street

The last two weeks I have tried to answer the question that comes up in almost every email: How are you and how is Bucharest? On one hand side this is an easy question, all is good, but when I then try to explain the “what and how” it becomes difficult. To describe what makes Bucharest tick and –even harder- how I experience this, is like peeling potatoes without a knife. Hard work. Although the work for Art-Fusion is the main reason I’m here I won’t tell you anything about the exciting project we are working on right now –safe the best for later- cause I would like to give you a little insight in my new life, home and everyday Bucharest escaped.

Besides living together with 5 others and sleeping in a bunk bed I got a brand new family on the side. The Art-Fusion volunteers take us out to concerts, smoky bars and well hidden tea shops where –I’m certain- the word 'launching' got it's roots. Sipping on a delicious cup of tea sinking into a pile of cushions in a little corners warmed by the fire place....

The closest to heaven as you can get. Love hanging out here, but home is also pretty good.

Our flat is in a block opposite of a playground that is next to a little power station next to a garbage pile filled with washing lines with a sort of a hut –people live supposedly- opposite of a modern office building. This is all in 20 meters of our front door. The church is somewhere around the back and if you walk 5 minutes you get to the metro station where you can have yourself weighed on the street, buy your daily porn and flowers on the corner. When not using the metro you can enter the indoor market with narrow lanes that are basically too small for the big furniture you can buy there. When getting too hot -the Romanians love putting there heating on extra hot- you can escape to the outside bit where traditional craftsmen have stands next to ladies specialised in cookies for dogs and cakes for us. The local wine dealers will fill you up a bottle, some young guys sells zippers and the latest perfume is presented by a tall stunning lady covered in make-up and fake fur. There is nothing you can't get here, be prepared to pay for it though and try not to get lost. You can always tag along with a dog, they will eventually find an exit.

Dogs. There are quite a lot of dogs, and they are smarter then I’ve ever seen. Besides crossing roads when the light turns green and having the perfect daily routine of sleeping and walking around the block systematically, I have seen them opening doors of smalls kiosks and following people till the get something to eat. Anything. They don’t bother me too much -yet- and are more a bit like street decoration, shitty street decoration! The other day, after getting lost in the mall, I found this hyper modern gym with funky drill bands and complicated machines you only see in your wildest dreams. I was well impressed and decided to give it a try. What a smell, even the gym smells of shit.....that's me. I think I stepped in more dog shit the last two weeks than in my entire life. Shit again. Am going again though, hopefully they will forget my stinky shoes, need some exercise with all the mouthwatering food surrounding me.

I think Bucharest should be called Cheese pastry heaven, they are so good! At the moment the exchange rate of 1 Euro/ 4,2 Lei makes a meal –that’s how big they are- 20 cents. Coffee and a meal for 40 cents sounds perfect for someone used to a Euro but if your wage is 3 lei an hour it all changes.

We visited the Palace of Parliament on Wednesday, the second largest administrative building in the world that houses the museum for contemporary art at the back. This massif project of Ceausescu was a very costly –not only financial- and neighbourhoods where demolished for this monster structure. I stood on the steps and looked at the wasteland where there used to be houses, now there was nothing, no precious gardens but just space and garbage.

As you can read I find it difficult to have one coherent story, its more like bits and pieces that don’t have anything in common with each other. They do, and I like them all, but it’s difficult to explain what it is I like. I love the massif straight streets, but at the same time I don’t like the way they got created. I like the concrete blocks but not what they stand for. The people are sweet but sometimes very harsh, very poor or very rich. The tram can take you to a hyper modern 3d cinema and, if you stay on for one stop more, to a street market you won’t feel that safe at all. Trust me. The many neon flashy commercials are ugly and focused on consumerism but at the same time give the streets a nice colourful glow. It’s not all that simple any more, what to like and what to dislike?

fridges and old iron

I woke up today hearing my house mates voice obviously trying to get something heavy through the door. I also heard another voice helping him. Or a fridge or a washing machine I thought, both we still need and either was good. The guys from Art-Fusion that sorted out out this place for us completely decorated it. Loads of volunteers donated furniture, kitchen stuff trying to make it homely. Bless them! When I stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen I saw the latest edition of gifts standing in the corner. Mister fridge has entered the building! Eugen, the volunteer that donated it, stayed a little chat. A very friendly and funny guy. All Art-Fusion people we met so far are great and extremely friendly. Whilst sitting in the kitchen we heard the same yelling as we hear every morning. This gypsy lady passes our block every morning... Selling something? No idea? Eugen told us that she's shouting "Old irion!" to collect and sell it again. Might be a good career swap some day.

Sitting in our kitchen I got hypnotised by the nice big fridge in the corner. Completely covered with handmade stickers of Pluto, Jeremiah cricket, Goofy, Tom & Jerry, Donald Duck....and so on. It's a big fridge and with lots and lots of neon coloured images. Some of them have a silver glow, and if caught staring at them a bit to long they WILL start walking and talking. When I asked who made them my imagination only got crazier. He told us that his mum used to work as a medical worker in Bucharest prison, one of the convicts made them for her. Eugen was not quite sure what kind of crime the man committed, but he sure must have been there a while looking at the detailed drawings.

Yesterday me and Valters -Volunteer from Latvia- checked out The Museum of Romanian Peasants. A beautiful museum with amazing pictures and remainders of a great heritage. It was the European Museum of the year 1996. As a museum-holic I have a bit of an idea what's out there, and trust me, its so worth visiting when your ever around. Maybe it's even a good excuse to come and visit me, cause the old fashioned Romanian ladies look the best!

Concrete heaven

After a very beautiful journey of almost 2 days, through 5 countries and 4 different trains I got safely to my new Home. On the way I didn't have any time to write. I was or sleeping, admiring the view, reading or chatting with people I met on the way. Especially the last train was amazing, brought me from Budapest to Bucharest over night. We, a lady from Bucharest and I, got woken up twice at the border with Romania. For some reason they want to check your passport in Hungary and again 20 minutes later in Romania. It was quite exciting because the lady in Hungary checking my passport was stunning; amazing uniform, beautiful brown eyes with perfect black thick eye-liner that made her look very strict. She thoroughly checked my details and stamps and made me feel like a 6 year old handing in homework....please tell me it's all good and I can move on to the next chapter.

Slept very well, had my earplugs against the noise of the train and was very lucky to only share the coupe with one other lady -the night train from Utrecht to Munich was packed and all the 6 beds were taken. I woke up when just before Brasov, Transylvania, looked outside and...and...didn't do anything or moved. It was the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen, too beautiful to describe or to capture on a photo. Impossible! Just imagine the Carpathians in a reddish glow whilst riding through snowy mountains passing little villages. Will try to explain better soon because we will be going back to this aria on Sunday for a weeks training, staying in a village thats called Predeal that lies on the foot of Romanians highest mountain: Omul, 2050m

Anyway, there I one more thing you need to know about Brasov. It's very funny I think and couldn't believe my eyes. From the centre of Brasow you can see in 'Hollywood style' Brasov written in the hills. The best!

The house I'm living is quite central, close to underground, shops,the office and so on. It's nice, its concrete and I already feel at home.

Credit Crunch.....here comes Baby!

Not everybody is aware of 'the crunch'.
Luckily enough there is still a large amount of little people that cry for other reasons.

Where is my food, where is my blanket, why the hell do my teeth hurt!!! And so on and so on.

If there is one sector not suffering under the financial crisis it will be the nappy manufacturing boys and girls.

Babies are the saviours of our economy,
bit like what Batman did for Gotham City.

He also liked wearing a nappy.

Gooooo Baby!

Better Weather - Kimya Dawson

happy dolls

The new year started for me with a tired head, drippy nose and sleeping most of the day. I think I used all my energy the last couple of months and, although I don't have to leave the house that much, I think I caught something on the way. Feel a bit like wearing one of the Bedtime stories outfits of Viktor & Rolf. Pillow strapped to my back please!

Changing Berlin for Utrecht doesn't mean moving to a less interesting cultural city. Last week me and my sister went to the Centraal Museum to see an exhibition: The house of Viktor & Rolf. The exhibition showed the highlights of the last 15 years of this amazing Dutch designers duo.

Dolls -specially made- wore miniature versions of their designs with in the background projected original runway material. They basically all looked the same, very simple and plain, only their hair and make-up was altered to match the original models as detailed as possible.

I used to work just around the corner, in the education department of The University Museum Utrecht, my longest employer ever. I think I worked there all together for about 5 years. Weird, time is a funny thing. It sounds like a long time, but is it? Four years ago I left Holland to follow my -ex- boyfriend to Wales. Now 4 years later I have lived in 4 different houses, worked for 4 different employers and have 4 different sim cards. I should feel older, that's what time does to you... Or not? When I think about it... I own less then ever, have a little job and spend most of my time on voluntary project.... feel younger than 5 years ago. Time doesn't equal happiness, but it's happiness and the way I allow myself to give in to 'my own' that determines how old I feel, I look and think.

Once in a while I get the feeling of having skipped something in my life, maybe going too fast or not recognising the good or the bad. It's not always possible, but if it is I try to fill this empty space. Tracking down what it is I'm missing, like checking luggage before going on holiday. Defragmenting my own hard disk to be able to install new software, new relationships.
I probably used to have a higher tempo of living that I didn't recognise happiness, even when it hit me in the face -or perhaps I had the tempo I thought others expected me to have. Now my life, my happiness is mine and nobody can dress me like a doll.

http://www.phoebekreutz.com/music/vikingsong.mp3