Half a bread per capita

Hey! With some delay, I managed to finish translating the first communist article - a memorable piece of day-to-day life during those times. I have inserted a number of notes for easier understanding and context of the foreigners reading this.

Special message for my Romanian friends: please, comment, I don't know how clear my translation is and if there's relevant aspects I am leaving out. It's an interview of a Romanian middle class citizen who used to be a child during that time.

Valentina Anghel from Oltenita (note: a 100.000 inhabitants town, 30 km south of Bucharest) turned 10 in January 1989.

"I remember going and coming back from school. They were the most frightening, as the rest of the time we spent in the classrooms. Boys used to chase us with snowballs, I was less of a target as I was chief of group in my class. Anyways, we could run around the classroom as we pleased, the teacher didn't bother much.

I can't brag about having a real teacher, good thing I had my mother. Our teacher's understanding of homework and home study was copying the lesson from the book and transcribing it on our notebooks. We never really had anything to study and my mother found that hard to believe, so she made me study, regardless of what the teacher said."

Our teacher was quite old, we actually knew she would retire after we were done with primary school. Maybe that's why she was so little preoccupied with us. During sport class, we just got out in the yard and ran around. In music class, me and 2 other colleagues used to get out in front of the class and teach the other ones what we had learned in Pioneers Club (note: "pioneer" was the name used to define communist students between 2nd and 12th grade. There used to be a huge celebration in every 2nd grader's life when they turned "pioneers" and some specific uniforms were granted for use after that moment. A whole hierarchy in school groups was defined after the "pioneering" moment).

But our teacher did love gifts. It was a given that you HAD to bring something for Christmas and New Year. And we had some colleagues who could afford to do that. One of them had his father working on a truck and frequently traveling to Germany. The mother of another one owned a flower shop and another one worked for the bread factory (note: a very good positioning at that time, since bread was such a scarce resource, it was used as bribe for small deals). And that WAS something, in those times when everything was given on a “CARTELA” and we were only allowed ½ bread per day per capita (note: the individual card that everyone had and used for buying basic goods – bread, milk, eggs. A daily ratio was given per capita to every citizen and was monitored based on this “CARTELA”). And that is how many of us managed to get extraordinary grades in our school!

Since I mentioned the “CARTELA”, it was exactly like I said. And the thing we most hated – the 3 kids in my family – was that we had to go get the bread every day and the lady at the bread shop only found dry, burnt or rotten bread for us! And we had to queue for so long, especially if the supply would end while we were there and we had to wait for the next shipment. I can see even today the car parking at the back-entrance from “Gospodina” (note: “Gospodina” - a chain of communist stores, private shops were not allowed and all the food supply in the state shops was centrally planned and coordinated). Our apartment was very close to the shop and we could see it from our window. So if I could see any queue, it was clear we had to hurry down there, because something was selling and maybe we could even get oranges! (note: the shops didn’t keep stocks, they were usually empty and when supply came in, everyone in the neighborhood was informed by “word of mouth” and the products were gone in a matter of minutes. Fruits were extremely scarce and supply for imported fruits, like oranges or bananas, was only done for holidays).

I guess I will always consider oranges to be tastier during winter (note: association with having them only for Christmas) and every time I will buy bananas, I will remember how I used to put them on the stove so they would ripe (note: on top of being scarce, such fruits didn’t not in best quality, they were often green or rotten). Back then, we only had oranges during winter, for holidays. My father used to peel them nicely and we used to keep the flower-looking like peel in the house for a long time so we would sense the smell of the fruit at least. Anyways, those were also given as a ratio, I think 1kg/capita and huge scandals used to arise during queuing when several members of the same family were in the queue.

But I was so used to queuing. In our town there was no central gas supply, we used gas tanks. The most important queue! The gas tanks center was outside the city and there were certain days when the truck used to come with tanks supply. Especially during the winter, the queue started the evening before. People went and left a bag, a chair, assign that they had been there and they would definitely return the next morning to take the gas tank that was vital for having heating, warm water and cooked food, for that matter.

We also had a stove in the bedroom. One that used wood. We almost set our wooden TV on fire once because of it. Although a bit “steamed up” our black/white TV managed to see the revolutionJ. It was so cold at home back then! I remember coming back from school and getting straight into bed. I would write my homework well tucked in, holding my notebook on my knees and many times even using gloves.

I was also a child – Santa used to come to me as well. At least “Mos Gerila” (note: the communist version of Santa Claus, disconnected from the association with Christmas which was not an allowed celebration). My mother used to bake cookies. One of our neighbors worked in a pastry shop and we used to eat a lot of powder milk. I used to enjoy my childhood, just the way it was. Queuing for crackers, cheese and chicken until my mother got out of work and she would replace me in the queue. Playing around in my neighborhood, snow fighting, going caroling. That is something I never liked doing, it always felt like begging ( note: traditionally, groups of kids would go caroling around the neighborhood and people would give them cookies, bagels or money in exchange for their performances. Similar to Trick-or Treating).

My mother used to get prepared for holidays long time in advance. And she baked the best cake ever (note: the vast majority of the population would spend Christmas/New Year visiting friends/relatives, everything was prepared at home based on a general menu you could find virtually in every home. No “outgoing” activities were generally available – restaurants, clubs, traveling abroad were almost impossible). Even if we were the ones going to visit someone else’s house, we never left our home empty-handed. And parties used to go beyond midnight, especially since they also started quite late. My parents worked in shifts, including Saturdays (note: Romania had a 6 working days week during communism). I remember them coming home at 10pm and we would get ready in a few minutes and run so we could sing “Happy New Year!” when the right time came. I remember dearly those moments, weird as it may sound. Because I remember a lot of music and dancing. I can see it now, people around a big table in the living room, a pick-up somewhere in a corner, a lot of pick-up disks (note: the pck-up was the only available technology even in late 80’s when Western Europe was already over tape-players and was entering the CD-era), especially with folkloric music (note: there was very little access to international music and the Romanian music was heavily restricted and lyrics were always validated by the communist party so they wouldn’t transmit revolutionary messages). I don’t remember ever anyone saying “Keep it down!” or having any neighbor complain. Everyone had exactly the same party.”