More tolerance news from Italy

Piergiorgio Stiffoni (no sniggering at the back, that really is his name, apparently) who is a Senator from the ever-delightful Northern League party in Italy (and hence part of that country's racist government) on the subject of Romanians: "If an extraterrestrial came down to earth and asked me what Romanians specialised in, I would say "rape""

(That's my translation of Se un extraterrestre scendesse sulla terra - dice Stiffoni - e mi chiedesse qual e' la specializzazione dei rumeni, gli risponderei 'lo stupro', which since I don't speak Italian is quite possibly slightly wrong, but not by much I think)

If an extraterrestrial came to earth and asked me what members of the Northern League specialised in, I would respond "being disgusting bigoted xenophobic scumbags", and then I'd ask if I could borrow his ray-gun.

Unwelcome Germans

Hurricane Kyrill has swept across us this morning after leaving Bavaria. Driving rain and high winds and a stunning rainbow have so far been the effects. Bits of trees falling off and that kind of thing. Still, nothing compared to what Ireland, Britain, France, Holland and Germany got, if the pictures on the news this morning are anything to go by. [What kind of name is Kyrill anyway? Is it Russian? I've never heard it before] Apparently we're on "yellow alert", whatever the hell that means. No-one seems to have a clue. But it sounds impressively "we're on top of the situation, people, no need to worry."

Our second unwelcome teutonic visitor is German measles (rubella), which Paula was diagnosed with yesterday. Still, it's the easiest of all the childhood ailments, so now her fever has gone it's just a question of keeping her at home and seeing what pictures you can make by joining up the spots on her chest. [I ought to point out that the name german measles has absolutely nothing to do with Germany, and is apparently derived from the Latin word "germanus" meaning "similar" since rubella is similar to measles. So now you know.]

In other Romanian news, the government is falling apart, having held themselves together long enough to get into the EU. It seems like everyone in the governing coalition hates everyone else, and we'll have some form of election sooner rather than later. Also some bones were found in the rest of the country, which according to all the media sources I've read, including things like the BBC, say "prove" that European humans continued to evolve after migrating from Africa. Which, as far as I am aware, is like saying that a fossil of a fallen apple "proves" that gravity existed 10,000 years ago. Who writes all this stuff?

The unkindest cut

A Romanian surgeon was having a bad day, and decided to (and you may wish to cross your legs now) chop off some poor bloke's john thomas. And the damages awarded are somehow likely to mean that "in future doctors may have to think very carefully about what work they undertake." I certainly hope that they give pause to any doctor tempted to vent his stress and anger on the nearest innocent member.

It's a brutal way to deal with stress, whichever way you slice it (as it were)

La Dolce Vita

Harrowing article from today's Guardian about the plight of migrant workers (Romanians among them) in Southern Italy. Driving through small towns in Southern Romania you see loads of these hastily printed flyers on lampposts advertising work in Spain and Italy. I often wondered what kind of conditions the people who signed up for these deals ended up in.

"What is one more life thrown away in this sad and useless national tragedy?"

Yesterday I was made aware of the sad story of Malachi Ritscher. The news came through a friend who had met him and himself only learned of the story himself the day before yesterday.

Malachi Ritshcer killed himself by setting himself on fire next to a freeway leading into Chicago during rush hour a few days before the recent US Elections in protest at the Iraq war. It barely made the news anywhere. I am posting this story and the links to read it in greater detail because maybe if just one other person reads this and passes it on it will not make up for the lack of coverage, but it will at least mean his act of misguided desperation is not forgotten

I can't say this any better than it was told to me, so with thanks to David Stubbs who agreed to me reproducing his (as ever, finely written) words

One memorable morning, he took us way out of Chicago city centre, out along the riverside, a drive which took in ever-varying facet's of the city's sprawl which we'd never have seen otherwise. We drove for about an hour - he wanted to treat us to breakfast at his favourite pancake house, where I encountered one of the most impressive omelettes I have ever seen in my life, an omelette which could have housed a family of seven, let alone fed them. After that, it was a trip to his favourite vinyl/bootleg store, where I managed to pick up a copy of Stevie Wonder's long-unavailable crossover album, 1971's Where I'm Coming From.

Along the way, Malachi regaled us with tales of his life, of his incarceration following an anti-war demo in 2003 and his subsequent suit against the city, of the bizarre homemade sauce of which he was making vast quantities, and, with the Kerry-Bush election coming up, politics. He was a political guy, was Malachi but sanely, proportionately and eloquently so. He made me think a) that the USA is divided roughly 51-49 between assholes/nice guys, with the former in the marginal ascendancy (or so it felt in 2004); also that, you could travel in the US, if only for a few days, and have a wonderfully skewed experience of the place, meeting only guys like Malachi and his like - generous, politically impassioned, in the know about where to get the best breakfast.

On November 3 of this year, a few days before the midterm elections, Malachi Ritscher set himself up by the side of a Chicago expressway with a small video camera and a sign reading "Thou Shalt Not Kill", doused himself in petrol and, in the tradition of Buddhist priests in the 60s, set himself alight and burnt himself to death.

Insofar as the event was covered, it was dismissed as the actions of a fringe, raging eccentric. Malachi may have been eccentric by the noxiously centric standards of these times but he was not a madman. Whatever, this shocking story, which you would imagined would have at least been good for some sort of coverage, particularly in these news-hungry, 24 hour newsak days, managed to go effectively uncovered. I've been somewhat distracted be events recently and, to my shame, only found out about this story this evening when meeting ex-colleagues at The Wire.

I don't think I can really hope to supplement anyone's imagination, or the limits of our imagination, as to the despair, loneliness, fury, courage, misguidedness, determination that would lead a man to take their own life in such an excruciating way. But fuck it, to think that such an act could manage to go virtually unacknowledged... well, anyway, I'm raising a glass right now to Malachi. I hope he's somewhere.

The Guardian reported it last week, and there was a longer piece in Pitchfork. But to really get the full sense of what drove this man to this act, it is worth reading what amounts to his own suicide note, from which the title to this post is taken, and his own obituary - as he says:

"He had many acquaintances, but few friends; and wrote his own obituary, because no one else really knew him."

I read this story again today, as I read it yesterday, with an incredible mixture of emotions - sadness, anger, pity, and a need to pass it on. I hope someone who reads this feels the same.

Most famous Hungarian dies

RIP Puskás Ferenc. To most non-Hungarians I know, Puskás was almost synonymous with the nation, and for most outsiders (from footballing nations - ie most of them) he would be the first person they would mention if asked to name a famous Hungarian.

Nothing much more to add. Here's his Wiki-entry

Fall Back

I hate it when the clocks go back. Not the act of putting them back so much, or the day itself (though I also reject this weird conceptual argument that it "gives you an extra hour in bed" - how? It's a Sunday. Unless you attend a 8 am mass, you really don't get an extra hour in bed, since you have no reason to get up early anyway).

It's the fact that subsequent to this chronometric retrogression, the evenings, which previously were gently "drawing in", in one fell swoop vanish entirely from the daylit schedule. It sucks. I understand that this year the US hasn't gone back at the same time as Europe (or even Canada), because Congress has voted in something called the "Halloween Act" so that kids can trick or treat in more daylight. Seriously, I'm not making that up.

It also, of course, heralds winter, and round these parts winter is a long tiring slog. According to the news yesterday, winter is coming. I couldn't work out when it was coming, but presumably it is soon, since the news that winter is coming sometime is not really news at all.

Anyway, it's half term and we are off to the in-laws for a week, and I will therefore be offline. Enjoy halloween, the day of the dead and whatever other events come up this week.

Local news

There's an awful lot of construction going on at the moment here. I mean it's not Dubai, but things do seem to be moving (not sure in what direction exactly, but moving nevertheless). In particular there are three very big construction projects that ever since I moved here had been completely frozen it seemed. A big apartment building on our street, a large unspecified piece of concrete opposite the apartment and looking directly onto "Taps Ter" (thanks Ada), and a huge indoor sports complex. All of these buildings were half finished (at best) and looked like they would remain that way for ever. But now there is action. The apartment building is nearly finished. The sports hall thingy likewise. Even the grey piece of concrete nothingness across the way has suddenly sprung into life, and is being operated on by a large team of workers (it is going to become a high school, I'm told). Already the complaints have started though - there'll not be enough parking places for the high school, and why would we have a high school right in the middle of the town? The sports hall is already rumoured to be inaccessible for the mere plebs of the town and the facilities will only be available for a select few.

Various other town clean up operations are underway too - new signposts, a new one way system, with wide seeming pavements, and even cycle paths everywhere. The cycle paths are a little bit problematic as no-one has seen fit to advise the general population as to what they are, so you see people having conversations on them, using them for pushchair pushing, just wandering around aimlessly on them, while cyclists attempt to weave in and out of them as best they can. Still, it will all look very good when it's done. (Though with winter right round the corner, everything may soon be put on hold for 6 months) I'll take some pictures later and regale you with the new Csikszereda.

In other exciting local news, Sport Club Miercurea Ciuc, the ice hockey team, have won the Romanian Cup, beating Steaua Bucharest 4-3 in the final. This occasioned much rejoicing and celebrations, with people staying up and out on the streets as late as 11pm, the wild party animals that they are. The team are also currently joint top of the Hungarian ice hockey league and top of the Romanian one (though the Romanian league season is always merely a precursor to another final against Steaua)

Quoi?

The 11th Francophone Summit is currently on in Bucharest. At this point, you may well be asking yourself why a non-Francophone nation should be hosting such an event. You are not alone. I have no idea either.

As if to highlight the oddness of it all, at a ceremony to unveil a statue of De Gaulle, Basescu managed to force out the word "Bienvenue", before switching back to Romanian.

There are loads of francophone nations where this event could have been held (or nations in which French is a second language at least) - off the top of my head I can think of France, Belgium, Switzerland, Canada, various African countries (both Arab and sub-Saharan), Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, French Guyana, Lebanon. They can't possibly have exhausted all those options yet, since this is only the 11th such event.

C'est tres tres bizarre, n'est-ce pas?

Close the door behind you

So, Romania is in. After much umming and ahhing, the EU has finally given the green light for us and Bulgaria to join. I'd write a long post about what this means for the country, but I don't have the time. Basically short term pain for long term gain will be my conclusion, you can fill in the tedious actual analysis yourself.

I presume tomorrow's right wing tabloid press in the UK will be full of stories about how 719 million gypsies are now poised to descend on London, or how already the first purse snatching of the new EU has been attributed to a Romanian.

Interestingly, I have a Ukrainian colleague/friend/guest visiting at the moment, who is gobsmacked that Romania should be on the verge of joining while Ukraine looks unlikely to have the chance for the next 20 years (hence the title of the post), given the respective wealth, state of development, etc etc of the two nations. Politics, innit?

Iskola (2)

The mayor of Csikszereda, one Raduly Robert, is basically a cretin. His name is more or less a joke in the town, and I've yet to meet anyone with a kind word to say about his term of office (I think he's been in about 2 years now). When the Hungarian consulate was opened here he managed to get in to a fight on the street with someone at the ceremony, and his ability to do things like fix the shamefully decrepit roads and stuff (you know, the kind of thing a mayor ought to be doing) is apparently non-existent. (They are now being fixed, by which I infer he's up for reelection next year).

However last Friday he surpassed himself - we (the town) were paid a visit by the Minister of Education himself (since it was the first day of school and the country was gripped by a teachers strike, one might be tempted to ask what the hell he was doing here of all places, but anyway..) His plan was to make a speech at the Octavian Goga High School (that's the Romanian one - see previous post), but because everyone there was on strike he instead made his speech at a Romanian elementary school instead (not sure of the name). While there he was asked by the teachers if they could introduce an optional Hungarian language course onto the curriculum as they felt it was important for their students to be able to speak (or at least given the chance to learn) the majority language of the town and area. Very cool. Anyway, subsequently he went to the Marton Aron High School (the most well known of the Hungarian High Schools) to speak there too. There he was met by our esteemed mayor who decided that he would speak to the guest in Hungarian and Hungarian only since this was a Hungarian school (although of course he does actually speak Romanian too, and the Minister doesn't speak Hungarian - there being no real reason why he should). So of course an interpretor had to be drafted in to translate for the minister.

I have no idea why. He probably feels he was striking a blow for Hungarian nationalism, while everyone I've spoken to is just dead embarrassed by the whole thing. I imagine there are some people who think he was right, but I've not met any of them. Sadly, the way politics in this town works, if he is the official UDMR candidate for the mayorship next time round he'll probably get elected again, even though everyone thinks he's a git. It's up to the UDMR to boot him out I reckon.

In more political news, Hungary is racked by riots (if Euronews is to be believed) since the Prime Minister admitted that he lied to get elected (imagine that! a politician lying! Blimey). However, the story on Euronews (which was my source), despite being the lead today, was very uninformative, and instead if anyone's interested, I'd definitely recommend Pauls' post here - it certainly put it all in a different light for me.

September Song

I'm in the middle of a particularly intense teacher training courseright now, so won't be able to do much blogging. After the 12 hour days (minimum) of work I reckon what's left ought to be devoted to the family. So I probably won;t be around much before the end of September.

A joke to be going along with:
Q: How do you turn a Szekely into a Romanian?
A: Take him to Budapest.

Not especially funny as jokes go, but I like the way it neatly encapsulates about three "truths" about the way various different ethnic groups perceive each other.

Weather's nice these days, but the storks left early this year which means that the autumn won't be especially long or warm, which is a bit of a shame. As if to rub the point in the ice hockey season seems to have already started (albeit only in the pre-season Csiki Sör cup). This may have something to do with the fact that Sport Club Miercurea Ciuc are seemingly playing in the Hungarian league and cup this year as well as the Romanian ones. Not sure how they're going to fit all that in.

Hasta la vista.

Ease and Wizz

Marosvasarhely (otherwise known as Targu Mures, otherwise known as Tirgu Mures, otherwise known -by almost no-one- as Neumarkt) has an airport. This fact is very convenient for us, since it happens to be Erika's home town and we have a place outside her parents' place to park the car if we wanted to fly anywhere. However, less convenient until very recently was the fact the only places you could fly to from there were Bucharest and Timisoara. True, you could then fly on to somewhere else, but it took a long while and was not that useful, particularly when it only took half an hour more or so to drive to Otopeni where the main Bucharest airport is.

Now however, things have started to change. First Malev started offering a service from Budapest, and they have been followed by WizzAir. For those unfamiliar with WizzAir, it is a low cost Hungaro-Polish airline (I think), and it's actually fairly good, in my experience. This is a stroke of genius on their part. Not because it makes my life easier, but because there are loads and loads of people from the Marosvasarhely area who are living in Hungary, having fled there in 1990 (Something like 95% of Erika's high school class live in Hungary, for example). And their prices are so low that they undercut both the train and the minibuses that ply the same route. They've also cunningly looped themselves into the potential tourist market for the area by naming the airport "Transylvania Targu Mures" - and since it is the most convenient airport for Sighisoara, it will pick up a fair amount of tourism one day, I reckon.

Anyway, we flew to England via this route (one flight to Budapest, a night at some friends' and then a flight on to Luton). The airport is very small and a little bit rubbish looking from the outside - grass on the runway, 30 year old petrol trucks, generally a little bit run down - but inside it is very clean and sparkling new. So new, in fact that little touches like the cafe/bar are not actually open yet. This proved a slight problem as our plane turned out to be 2 hours late. A little digging revealed that this was because the Vasarhely plane had started its day in London and at that time every plane leaving England was doing so with a minimum of two hours delay thanks to the need to stop anyone bringing anything whatsoever on the plane with them in case they started to beat the stewardesses with a rolled up newspaper or some such dastardly act. (I do appreciate the need for security, but to give an example of just how ruthlessly this was all enforced, a friend was travelling with his 6-year-old son, and they made him (the son) take the batteries out of his hearing aid, hand them to an armed guard, who then carried them on to the plane, and ensured that they were locked in a safe on board only to be released after the journey).

[Happily, the extra wait without any form of entertainment passed easily because to Paula any place is much like any other, and to Bogi, who was about to embark on her first flight, the whole thing was insanely exciting anyway.]

Coming back this week, of course we had to brave the security measures ourselves, since leaving the UK you have to jump through all the requisite hoops (unlike leaving Romania or Hungary two weeks earlier). By this time things had been eased slightly, and I was allowed to bring a newspaper, and we were able to have a bag with nappies and stuff in it. We did, however, have to demonstrate that all liquid-ish forms of babyfood were non-explosive, which meant I had to taste the water and the apple juice which we had prepared for P, and Bogi kindly volunteered to taste the two jars of baby food (one of which was some blended facsimile of "Vegetable Lasagne", so it said), which as you might imagine was not terribly apealing at 5am, which is when we checked in. The "lasagne" got a very definite thumbs down, while the apple and yoghurt dessert was pronounced quite nice.

We then (well a few hours later) had to do a quite farcical sprint through Ferihegy airport - because WizzAir is a low cost airline it only sells individual tickets, so we had one set of tickets for the Luton to Budapest leg and one set of tickets for the Budapest to Marosvasarhely leg. There were no systems in place to allow us to be checked all the way through. And of course, our experiences on the outward journey had let us know that we would be using the exact same plane. So, what we had to do when we arrived at Budapest airport was get off the plane, go through immigration, collect our suitcases, go out, check in to the new flight, go through security and then get back on the same plane (while our bags would go through the systems and be replaced back on that same plane too). All in less that 45 minutes. This seemed to me frought with hazard and so we worked out our strategy in advance. We got seats right at the front so as to be the first off the plane (this is easy to do when you have young kids as they let you on first and there are no assigned seats). Then after immigration I took Paula and all the passports and left Erika and Bogi waiting for the suitcases while I went round the airport and back into check-in. I explained my predicament to the bloke at the desk and he said, "Well check in closes in 12 minutes". To which I responded that I knew that, but since I was here, and we were all here, and I knew the plane was here, couldn't he hold it for a while in case we didn't all get through in time. Thankfully he saw the sense of this and issued our boarding passes there and then and held on for a while after he should have to close the flight. This only worked because we could work in a team though, individuals hoping to pull off the same stunt would have been stuck.

And so finally, we made it to be greeted by the same crew who were happy to see us back (mostly because Paula is just about the most charming baby in the history of the universe, a fact I state without a hint of bias). Half an hour or so later we were back on the grassy runway of Transylvania Targu Mures. (It's one of those small airports where you have to walk to and from the plane - none of these fancy tunnels or even buses). The baggage reclaim room may have to be upgraded soon, since it consists of one end of a conveyor belt manned by two blokes who grab every suitcase as it emerges and put it on the floor around themselves. A full plane load of passengers and a full plane load of bags most assuredly do not fit in this room.

WizzAir have obviously decided that the Romanian market is the next one to hit up as they are advertising loads of new routes coming soon - Vasarhely to Barcelona and Roma (direct) and Bucharest to all sorts of places, including a direct Luton flight, which will be even more appealing. We're already thinking of a winter break to Rome.

I'd like to add here that I have absolutely no connection to WizzAir, and I will not make any profit out of extolling or publicising their services, but if anyone from Wizzair does chance upon this post and wishes to comp me a few tickets, I'd be happy to accept their kind offer.

In the Lebanon

One of the biggest problems with being stuck at Milan airport for a while, was being able to take a while reading English newspapers and learning of the ridiculous and sick position taken by my government over the possibility of a ceasefire in the Lebanon war. Something along the lines of “There’s no point having a ceasefire now as it may only last a week and we need to find a comprehensive peace agreement”. Are they really that stupid or just trying to pull the wool over people’s eyes? The whole point of a ceasefire is to stop innocent people being killed, maimed, and left homeless. You do that, and then you start to look for an agreement that is workable. Even if a ceasefire does only last a week, at least that’s a week in which no people are dying. For christ’s sake. But no, they just give everyone a green light to keep on killing as many people as they can (and given the disparity of deaths on both sides of the border it looks once again like Arab lives are basically worthless in Blair’s view.) I am more and more convinced that this bastard needs to be taken to the Hague as soon as possible and be tried for his war crimes.

It’s rare that I get this angry over something, but god almighty. How many people have you killed today Blair? Do you ever sleep? Or do you wake up in a sweat dreaming about swimming in the blood of children? I bet you don’t because you’re a wild eyed ideologue who really believes that killing Arabs is a necessary step toward the new world order.

And now, finally, the UN are debating a ceasefire resolution that will allow Israel to continue attacking people as long as they do it “defensively”. Since they claim that everything they do, from the daily brutality of the occupation to various invasions of Lebanon is “defensive”, this doesn’t sound like it’s much of a solution. And our glorious leader thinks he can now act to get a solution for the Palestinians – since he’s said this from day one, and has come no closer than he was then, I find it hard to imagine. And how he expects to be taken seriously by the Palestinian side, now he’s nailed his colours firmly to the side of Israel-can-do-what-it-likes-whenever-it-wants-and-be-applauded-for-it, is anyone’s guess. I despair. Every week I have to remind myself of how bad Thatcher was in order to have something to compare him with, but I’m reaching the point where I think he’s even worse than her. And that takes some bloody doing.

Gabriel Lambescu

Just got this link from my Dad, an obituary of Gabriel Lambescu, conservation architect. Have to admit I'd never heard of him up until now (always a shame when you read of someone who seems like a wonderful person - but it's in an obituary). But I have stayed in the Casa cu Cerb in Sighisoara (and it's bloody gorgeous) and have visited the castle at Cris (which despite it being a Saxon area was one of the many homes of one of the seemingly many Bethlens (Gabor, possibly).

Anyway, just thought I'd recycle it here and tip my hat and pay my respects to Mr Lambescu.

Back Home

Got home at about 2am on Monday. You'll be excited to hear that Harghita is now a bird flu zone and presumably other areas of Romania too (it would be a very odd phenomenon if the only two counties affected were Harghita and Covasna - you'd end up with Romanian nationalists pointing to this and saying something about how Hungarian chickens are dirty or something, and Hungarian nationalists positing conspiracy theories about how the State was deliberatley infecting those areas). Anyway, I did finally get disinfected. First, we went through a kind of hi-tech gate system somewhere between Bucharest and Ploiesti where the tyres were cleaned by a deep shag pile carpet, and the car itself was sprayed from all angles with a fine mist of disinfectant. Later, in Malnas village in Covasna county, we were stopped by a policeman and two smiling disinfectors, with cigarettes hanging rakishly from their lips, who proceeded to fire up flamethrower type devices and drench the car in spray. (Someone somewhere is making a killing on all this disinfectant - manufactureres, importers, distributors, whoever, it has to be the biggest boom they've ever seen). The third disinfectation station we passed near Tusnad, was less impressive as all the people (police, spraymen and hangers on) had fallen asleep in their cars and we just drove straight past.

Anyway, I'm going back down to the aiprort on Wednesday night to pick up my parents who are over to visit for two weeks, so not only will the car get lots of disinfecting, but also I'm unlikely to be blogging much until mid-June. Plus ça change.

200th post

Just to take my mind off my impending dotage, I thought I'd write my 200th post on this blog. Not sure what the average word count per post is, but it's an awful lot of meaningless drivel. I'm not about to stop now, though, so here are some other small things.

Last night Romania got snowed on, seemingly everywhere, though perhaps not at the coast. On the news, of course, all the talk was of the fact the capital was paralized. Intrepid reporters had gone out of the front door of their TV stations and were filming traffic moving slowly. It was gripping TV, as you can imagine, and once again served to give the impression that anything beyond the county of Ilfov (the county that surrounds Bucharest) doesn't actually exist.

This morning with the capital's 5 cms of snow still the talk of every TV station, the government had promised a "War on Snow". I swear I'm not making that up. What excatly does a war on snow look like? It's an intriguing concept. However, rdiculous, though, it is in some ways a nice way to highlight the ridiculous use of the phrase "A War on XX" which is so in vogue these days. It all started with the War on Drugs, but reached it's nadir with the "War on Terror". The principle weapon in the war on terror is (it seems) fear, which is blackly ironic to say the least. Strangely, real wars are no longer actually called wars anymore - the War on Iraq was never called that by any English speaking media outlets that I saw. It's a War on Language, I reckon.

Meanwhile, have a look at this picture, which I am reliably informed was not photoshopped.. Now, I don't tend to trust anything that FoxNews says, since I regard it as extreme right wing bullshit, for the most part, but I never really thought they'd stoop to this level. I suppose I should be grateful they were even having a debate. I wonder what the "yes" camp had as arguments? It will increase the share price of weapons dealers? If everyone's dead it will make the country much easier for our boys to control?

And finally

Before I sign off, and to take my mind of the idiots who run the world, a short Paula update. She seems to be recovering, though there are still occasional coughs, which send us into a panic. We even took her out for a walk on Sunday, which was an exciting moment - the temperature had cracked zero for once and we seized our chance. Just in time it seems, since it's got cold again. Yesterday she had her first vaccinations. Not quite sure whether there's still a real danger that children will contract diphtheria, but if there is, she won't be the one to get it. The next big worry is mumps, which is currently running rampant in Csikszereda. If Romania offers MMR you don't get it till you're one anyway, so this could be our next panic. With Bogi venturing each day into the mumps factory that is her kindergarten, we are daily inviting those vicious germs in our home. We must declare a War on Mumps (TM), and we must start now.

A Statement from the Vice President’s Office

There has been a lot of criticism of the Vice President’s actions in the shooting of his friend Mr Whittington. The incident was a regrettable one, but unfortunately this kind of collateral damage is an unavoidable consequence of The War on Game ™ . Those who are criticizing the Vice President would presumably be happy to see world literally overrun by quail and their ilk.

Others have tried to cast doubt on the hi-tech weaponry used in The War on Game ™. They have suggested that these weapons are not as surgically precise as we have said since Mr Cheney could not discern the difference between a grown man wearing an orange vest at point blank range and a small brown bird. Once again, it is clear that these nay-sayers are only out to give succour to the enemies of America in this time of great hardship for the nation as a whole.

Finally it has been reported that the Vice President had not actually obtained the necessary authorization for his brave and personal contribution to The War on Game ™. This lack of authorization in the form of a stamp issued by the UN Security Council Texas Parks and Wildlife Department does not in any way deligitimise the very vital mission that the Vice President had embarked upon. The suspicion remains that the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department had members who were in cahoots with some, as yet unidentified, pheasants.

Once again the Vice President would like to remind the press that America is engaged in a battle for its very survival. If The War on Game ™ is lost thanks to the desire of a few deluded individuals who feel that exposing our tactics to the enemy is “in the national interest” , then he hopes that the American people will do their duty and rise up and refute their actions. The Vice President is a vital front line defence in The War on Game ™ and we would do well to applaud his actions rather than condemning him.

Sweeping it under the carpet

No posts for a few days - a situation which I will be in a position to explain in a day or two. For now, I can say that the big scare we had has receded somewhat, and in the official colours of scares authorised by the Department of Homeland Security we've probably been lowered from a Magenta to a Puce, or something.

Anyway, lets talk about the news that is gripping the country. That of the acquittal of Christopher VanGoethem, US Marine, on charges of negligent homicide (and adultery). So let's review the facts: In December 2004, VanGoethem, a Marine in a plum job at the US Embassy in Bucharest, was driving home from having sex with his girlfriend, a secretary at the embassy (VanGoethem is married), jumped a stop sign and rammed into a taxi, killing its passenger, one Teofil Peter (who happened to be, before his untimely demise, bass player in Romanian rock band "Compact"). Breathalysed at the scene, VanGoethem was discovered to have a blood alcohol level of 0.09 (over the limit in more or less every country in the world that I'm aware of), and hours later tested at the US Embassy to still have a level of 0.02 (still way above the limit in Romania which is 0.00).

The next day, VanGoethem was whisked out of the country to be tried by a US Military court. That court has just returned a verdict of not guilty on charges of negligent homicide and adultery, but has found him guilty of obstructing justice (he phoned his girlfriend afterwards to try and make their stories fit), and has dished out the very very harsh punishment of a letter of reprimand.

That much is beyond dispute. The trial is the thing that seems, well, let's just say, dodgy. The defence's case seems to have rested on not having any proof that Teo Peter was actually in the taxi (despite the fact that firemen had to cut his mangled body out of the mangled wreckage), and that the road junction was so confusing that he couldn't possibly have negotiated it successfully (this is a major road junction in a major European capital city, which tens of thousands of people manage to negotiate successfully on a daily basis). Miraculously this outrageous bluff seems to have been successful - due mostly to the fact that the prosecution were completely hopeless, and didn't even bother to counter these rizla-thin arguments. They didn't even call the taxi driver to the stand.

As you might imagine, this has not played out very well in Romania. Romania, let us not forget is a fairly pro-American country in European terms. They're a member of the so-called "Coalition" in Iraq, and as far as I can tell, this status is not a heavily criticised one in public opinion. The governments of the two countries seem to get on fairly well, and the US are about to open some kind of military base here (but they never used the country as a site for their ongoing torture of random Arabs and other Muslims, that's just a vicious rumour). The TV News a couple of days ago could talk about nothing else but this slap in the face and how the whole nation has been spat upon by the US Military justice system. In this respect, I think that the fact that this guy was famous and not Gheorghe Nobodyescu has had a positive effect - no-one is prepared to let this be swept under the carpet. The government has offered Peter's family money to pursue a civil case, and everyone is anxious to be seen to be upset by this. (The most nauseating thing on TV was seeing VanGoethem's mother interviewed outside the courtroom talking about how much her son has suffered and how glad she is that this is over and how she feels that she understands Peter's family since her family has gone through so much in this case too. Now, I presume VanGoethem has suffered - after all he killed some innocent bloke who was just going home one night, and I have to assume that he (VanGoethem) is a normal human being who feels guilt and compassion about the results of his negligence, but for someone in his family to play that card is, to say the least, obscene.)

This story has no media coverage whatsoever in the US (outside of the Stars and Stripes, the military paper), but tons and tons here. As PR it is a huge gaffe of vast proportions. You'd think someone could have had a word with the court and said "Listen guys, I know we normally brush these things under the carpet, but this time, we have to show that we care about justice, because the whole country of Romanian is watching us, and we want to keep them onside". But no, they just whitewashed the whole incident. Nice going, guys. Good work.

Better written English language blogs on the same subject:
Claudia at Halfway Down the Danube and Soj at Flogging the Simian .

No Joke

When I wrote a couple of days ago that the pissed up US Marine who rammed into and killed a Romanian rock star might get a slap on the wrist or a severe ticking off, I was exaggerating for effect. I mean I did assume that in reality he'd get at least a short jail term or something. But, seems I was actually not wrong. "...the jury recommended VanGoethem be given a letter of reprimand." A letter of reprimand? Jesus H Christ.

-6 degrees this morning. We are seeing an exponential rise in temeperatures (last 6 days at 8am: -32, -30, -28, -25, 19, -6). I think mathematically that means tomorrow will be something like +22.