“You country of mine, I no longer need your name. You country of mine, let us close our accounts, you and I: take back everything you have given me, first of all your name I give you back, and set me free of your fate, of your darkness! Because, you country of mine, I am against you, as you are huge and heartless, while I am meagre and ruined by vice, an evil within you, you, such a big and healthy apple. You country of mine, you curse of mine, you apple of mine, let worms go away, so that you grow and blossom to turn into the biggest and most beautiful of all apples...”

(Miodrag Bulatovic, “Four-fingered men”, Belgrade 1976)

I began with this quote because I think that many of these days’ Romanians should read Bulatovic and notice when he wrote books like this one. You will meet Romanians in Spain or Italy. They work there because they get paid better than back home. However all their misfortune is due to Romania according to them. You will meet Romanians in Transylvania, working there. However all their misfortune is due to Romania (and sometimes, of course, to Bucharest for that matter). You will meet Romanians that left the country and settled elsewhere. All their bad times are due to Romania. You will meet Romanians period. All their misfortune is due to their neighbour to the right, which has a taller fence. If not, to the neighbour to the left which has a shorter fence. If not, to the City Hall. Local deputy. Prime Minster. President. And, if it all fails, to the Country as a whole.

People in Transylvania will tell you that Southerners are loud, lazy and dirty; in short, the source of the everyone else’s misfortune. People in the South will tell you that Transylvanians are slow in action. People in Western Romania will tell you that Moldavians are drunkards. Those in Moldavia will blame it all on Bucharest. Hungarians will tell you that Romania is dangerous. Romanians will tell you that Bulgarians are poor and stupid. Bulgarians will tell you that Romanians are poorer and more stupid. Both of them will tell you that Serbs are evil and wild. At their turn, Serbs will blame it on Albanians, which will throw it on the Greeks that will curse the Macedonians. One’s own impotence and frustration is always someone else’s fault.

Unless this was against our self-built comme il faut shield, we would all blame God, for He is up there, above us all, while we are down here, doing all the dirty job, respectively throwing crap at each other. But we cannot blame God and that would not help either, as the neighbour is here close, he is tangible. If he is more successful than us, we can trick him. Trap him. Poison his dog. Break his window. Make him feel miserable, as, if we are unhappy, he should be unhappy too. He should feel worse than us. Welcome to the Balkans. Welcome to Bucharest. And keep in mind, the neighbour is always bad. He definitely wants to trick you. Therefore do yourself a favour and trick him first. Amen.