I'm working and adding new stories to my book "Different Tales: A Children's Book, preparing it for a second edition
LIVIU
Bucharest, Romania
I remember being a small, girl attending Elementary Scholl in Bucharest, Romania.
My family house was located near the center of Bucharest, 5 minutes walking distance from the Cismigiu Gardens and Calea Victoriei, the main central street, and five minutes walking distance from my school.
The elementary School in our neighborhood was adjacent to the biggest Catholic Cathedral in Bucharest, the Saint Joseph Cathedral. The adjacent buildings probably once belonged to the cathedral, but now under the communist regime were transformed into classes. The school had also a fairly large yard.
My first teacher was Miss. Purcareanu, an older, plump lady, nicely dressed and even nicely made up. I remember her because she was very partial to the students whose mothers were bringing her small gifts (one time, I remember, one of the mothers bringing her a big cake that she took home and did not share it with us, children.)
Miss Purcareanu thought to find the special gifted children among us, as she was trying us on singing capabilities. One day she called me in front of the class to conduct a song, but my talents were not singing, obviously, as she pushed me aside immediately after I stared. Taken by surprise by the blunt gesture, I fell on the ground to the laughter of the entire class. No, I did not like her!
My second elementary teacher was an older man, named Mr. Sfetcu (later I heard that he used to drink excessively). Anyhow, he liked to play the violin and was teaching us songs, while he was playing his violin. I don’t know how appropriate the songs were for children under 10 years old, but I remember his songs to this day.
One time, when he was sick he asked my father to teach in his place. Both my parents were teachers, my father being a mathematics professor.
My father called me at the black board up front; he called me by my last name, and I startled, as first I did not recognized my own name. He asked me to do a three digits multiplication, and I remember scratching the numbers quickly on the black board. I excelled in mathematics, of course and also in calligraphy as my father was watching over my writings (do you remember the ink pens, not the automatic ones, but the old ones you dipped in an ink well?).
We had a mixed class as the communists believed in equality between the sexes, and I was sited next to a boy called Liviu.
Now, the other girls were attracted to the mean boys, the boys that were starting fights, and were using crude language, but Liviu was a gentle, well behaved boy, exceedingly considerate, who never participated in fights. I was 7 or 8 years old, but surely I was in love with Liviu. He was not handsome by the commonly accepted norms, he had black hair, parted on one side, a dark completion, a longer nose, chocolate eyes, and as I remember to this day, he had a dark spot on one of his eye’s white (obviously, I stared a lot into his eyes).
But, I loved him. Secretly, of course, for no word was ever spoken. I was just content to sit next to him, feeling safe and liked. Not really, I did not know if he liked me, but he accepted me. I do not remember even talking to him, not much anyhow. Liviu was kind of sure of himself, centered, not trying to impress me, or anybody else for that matter, nor was he needy, or asking for approval.
We had a county girl who lived with us, Vica, who took care of us, the children, as my parents were working. Vica would dress me up for the school, and arranged my long, chestnut hair in two braids that she tied on the top of my head like a crown. In elementary school we did not wear uniforms; that came later in the middle Scholl. I had a white blouse and a green skirt with white polka dots that I remember, it looked like a mushroom.
When I finished the elementary school, I changed schools to the intermediated school that was located just around the corner form the elementary school, at SAVA, or Saint Sava. That was the best school in entire Bucharest. SAVA used to be a boys’ School, exclusively, before the communists, but changed to a mixed school. At that time, SAVA was an intermediate school and a high school; 5th grade to 11th grade. As I changed schools, I never saw, or heard from Liviu again.
Our love was lost, but not in my memory.
• * *
Years after, when the communist regime in Romania fell, I returned to Bucharest to visit my house, and my schools, and my town. The buildings complex that once was the elementary Scholl were restitute to the Catholic Church, and now the entire placed was fenced and the gate locked. Sava has become a college and again the access was restricted, the front iron gate had a security guard and I could not visit my old schools.
As I read, I am amazed that your detailed memory of that time when you were seven or eight and had your first (secret) love. I was also amazed at the similarity between my school and yours. Although I barely remember, in our first grade when my twin and I were six we were paired (by my mother, a romantic) with two local girls that we occasionally encountered until we were out of high school. We moved 60 miles away when we were seven so that relationship never blossomed. My next love was when I was 11.
The difference is that we can visit our schools (they were all public) today if we want. If they were not torn down by progress.
I really enjoy your reminiscences from Romania. You lived through some turbulent times.
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LIVIU
