Uneven Ground

The cobble streets are uneven yet delightful. I’d forgotten what it’s like to walk through a historic city. Timisoara. I’d almost been captivated before I knew how important this city was. I’ve found my favourite café, my favourite pastry shop and remembered how to navigate my way between the two beautiful piazzas that dominate this city. I’ve driven round in circles – the city was built as a fortress - managed to identify and remember a few street names and distinguish the two bridges that cross the Bega river.


Timisoara (pronounced timishwara) is the site where the 1989 revolution was born when protesters gathered outside the house of Pastor László Tőkés, a vocal opponent to the Ceausescu regime. The secret police were ordered to deport him and his supporters protested. The army were ordered to fire and thousands were killed. It ended the communist regime of Nicolae Ceauşescu and marks the Romanian revolution.

I could have walked through the cobbled streets of Timisoara and not have known what significant ground I was walking on. They cause me to trip, women in high heels navigate them and hundreds of birds feed on them.


I later saw a water fountain where people stop to fill their water bottles. A water fountain adorned with hundreds of names. I ask and am told this is a monument remembering those who died on that fateful night. It seems a rather insignificant monument for such a catastrophic event. I ask again and am told it’s just one of a series of monuments that were created and installed around the city. An eternal flame, a statue and others I haven’t yet located. Then there are monuments that were donated by companies. One is a tall and intrusive neon cross erected in front of the Romanian Orthodox Cathedral by an electrical company. Seems somewhat dubious.


I then wonder if there’s a symbol or face to this revolution? An image, an icon or worse or better still a figure. I glance up and see a billboard that features Che Guevara selling something. How different the idea of a revolution seems here than in Latin America. Why? Yes hundreds died, fighting to free themselves from an oppressive regime. Should this not be revered? I meet an Iraqi immigrant, now a Romanian citizen, who introduces me to his daughter, her name is Gegehvara. Named after the ‘revolutionary’ figure he tells me.




No one seems to smile. Everything seems a struggle. But you’re free now I think to myself, why are you still so sad? Of course I don’t think it’s that simple. Are they all waiting for a miraculous turnaround of events? Now part of the EU, most people tell me there’s been no real difference. This week the president announced salaries would be cut by 25% starting June as the country has no more money! Each election a different party is elected and seems to undo, for better or worse, the work of the previous government.



Sure there is progress. Infrastructure, technology, commerce….but do all these things mean that much? The average wage is 200 Euro per month while the average apartment in the city centre costs about 300 euro per month?

I paint a bleak picture. I get frustrated easily. I get happy when someone smiles. I’ve discovered birds outside my window that sing all day and night. I begin to like walking on the uneven ground.