Festival Season

Ten years ago it was the warped tour, five years ago it was the Finger Lakes wine festival, and last weekend it was AdFel, a festival of unconventional advertising.  In between, some of my personal favorites included Bonnarroo, grassroots, and Jazz Freedom.  Summer time is festival time and since the warped tours of my teenage years, summer festivals have always proved to be unique experiences that produce some lasting memories.  Though my favorites always seem to be the music festivals (warped, bonnarroo, peninsula) there are other types of festivals that I have also enjoyed over the years (harvest festival, wine fest, beer fest, adfel). 

Whatever the reason for celebration, summer seems to be the time to do it.  Up until this year I never really noticed that summer time is the festival season.  From the time I moved to Bucharest in September 2011 I have been constantly keeping my ears and eyes open, searching for fun things to do.  Admittedly it was kind of slow at first.  I didn’t know where to look to find things that I would find interesting.  When summertime came suddenly there were always things going on and everything lasting more than one day was called a festival. 

Adding to the excitement of summer and upcoming festivities, a large part of my position as volunteer coordinator at MaiMultVerde (MMV) was to actually work at some of those festivals.  This perk to my job at MMV was a pleasant surprise when the warm weather started rolling around.  I remembered a desire I used to have to work for free festival tickets as a volunteer at Bonnarroo and here I was, doing just that, at festivals in and around Bucharest.  I was responsible for arranging and coordinating volunteers at a MMV stand at four festivals.  At the stand we gave away some of our annual reports, sold greeting cards to raise funds for a tree-planting activity, and at times we rented out bicycles.  Pulling from MaiMultVerde’s large community of volunteers I was able to schedule shifts at the stands so that not only did we sell stuff and promote MMV, but we all had opportunities to walk around the festival and enjoy what others were offering. 

View from our stand

Festival season began with Femei pe Matasari.  Matasari is a street in Bucharest known for its shady characters and prostitution.  As the story goes, a local photographer moved into a house on the street and wanted to bring attention to the situation there in a positive way.  By doing this he started the festival Femei pe Matasari which means “the women on Matasari street”.  The festival itself is a kind of an art festival bringing together local artist exhibiting and selling their goods, and NGO’s recruiting people and gaining support in the community.  A stage was located at the end of the street as each day’s activities culminated in a musical performance after the sun went down.  The MMV stand had prime location across the street from the festival house, under a wave of suspended umbrellas, and next to a large patch of grass brought in for relaxation purposes.  The cicloteque bikes were the hit of our stand but we did end up selling quite a bit with our prime locations in a high-traffic area. 

Recicloniada was a hot Friday afternoon under a small tent spraying cool mist over me.  Ok that wasn’t it.  Yet again we had our annual reports and greeting cards laid out next to our plastic collection container resembling a tree trunk.  I sat there with Elvy, an active MMV volunteer and good friend since my early days at the NGO and Cristina, a fresh new face on the MaiMultVerde volunteer team.  A chat about Zdob si Zdub commenced soon after I noticed her strong Moldovan accent.  We sat, awaiting customers that for the most part didn’t come, and of course a concert that I had to miss for previous engagements.  The evening replacements actually made for a fairly successful Friday.  The festival itself was put on by the organization leading Romania in its efforts to collect recyclable material, Eco-Rom Ambalaje.  A free, day-long festival in the middle of Bucharest featuring some pretty well known bands was there way of getting the word out.  Actually, I can’t say that the show was free.  Entrance fee was 10 recyclable items making for a clean old city center. 

B’Est Fest stands for Bucharest Fest and it is in its third or forth year at this point.  It could possibly be the largest music festival in Bucharest even though this year it wasn’t exactly in Bucharest.  Tunari, a small village just beyond the northern boundary of the city hosted the festival this year and a tent there hosted yours truly.  MaiMultVerde was located in Green Village at the festival, though few would know.  Green Village, within sight of the main stage, was not necessarily within sight of the spectators who strolled by without noticing the stands, bright colors, bikes, and green of the tent off to the side.  Organizers of Green Village attempted to attract attention to the area by setting up an autograph series there but the only musician to actually show up when they were supposed to was a friendly young singer named Millow who gained his fame from covering a Justin Timberlake tune.  The long festival hours over the course of several days allowed for much participation on the part of MMV volunteers and during the few-day festival I had a chance not only to work with some volunteers that I knew well from previous activities, but also some new faces that will hopefully continue to take part in MMV’s actions.  Despite the weak traffic at our stand the volunteers were determined to get the word out and they took materials out of our tent to the crowds of festival goers to make the weekend’s fundraising a success.  Music highlight of B’Est included Garbage (never-ever thought I’d see this band), Subcarpati, and Caro Emerald (great show). 

Adfel Festival is a festival of unconventional advertising.  The festival itself was quite unconventional as it took place at a restaurant/club.  MMV was located off to the side in the sandy kids play area.  Though at times it seemed like a location off to the side and out of sight, with a little help from the organizers and some determination on the part of our volunteers we ended up succeeding with raising some funds.  Our stand made a strong call against the desertification of Romania by calling on the public to help us plant trees in order to avoid the looming threat of water shortages and sandstorms.  In the process they could take a picture as a Bedouin with his camel to try and foreshadow the unfavorable conditions if we continue cutting down trees.  I found the whole bit to be quite nice and fun especially considering our location in the sand.  In addition to the conditions, a co-worker of mine invited his fire throwing friend by our stand to put on a pretty neat show.  Check it out below. 

And so went festival season 2012 until now.  From what I hear there is a strong possibility for some more festivals to pop up after my time here expires, namely NGO Fest.  Personally I am not an effective salesman, never was, and never felt comfortable doing it.  Maybe this is why my great volunteer colleagues and friends were more effective at selling greeting cards and trees than I.  What I could sell and actually enjoy selling are ideas that I believe it.  MaiMultVerde is one of those things that I believe in that I don’t mind selling at least a bit.  What do I mean by selling?  I saw my job at the stand as a promoter and recruiter of volunteers for the environment.  My line was usually something to the effect of “o and by the way, we’ll send you an invitation to come plant the tree that you donate”.  The rewarding experience for me is getting out and taking action, more so than dropping money into an envelope.  It is that rewarding experience that I think can make the lives of our supporters more rich and exciting, while creating more involved and dedicated volunteers for MaiMultVerde.  Plus, I had the opportunity to check out these cool summer festivals. 

iRAF

As we strolled into the venue I was taken back to the first time I laid my eyes on such a scene.  It was a dusty gray yard surrounded by red brick buildings degrading in front of your eyes.  The level of activity on the ground was far less then the speakers would care to indicate as they were pumping out tunes from Romania's oldest DJ.  This was the opening scene of a festival much like one I attended at the very same venue months before.  Looking out from the stage the performer sees a medium sized field of grey dust, the remains of the degrading foundations surrounding the area.  One of those very foundations toward the back was where some other concert goers happened to be waiting, eating, drinking.  Atop the foundation to the right is a brick building with a much larger whole in it than what I remembered from my last visit.  The main permanent feature of the grounds is a large brick tower in the center whey they were serving beer in September but since then they must have realized the roof could come down at any moment because this time the beer was located under a tent next to the tower.   The grounds were dead but it was only the beginning and we knew it would pick up once the DJ exited stage right to allow some actual musical instruments to tune up and get the show started.  In the meantime I decided to look at a photo exhibit installed on some graffitied walls to the left of the stage.

The photo exhibit was enough to get me into the cultural event at hand, more so than the film it followed anyway.  The day began with a showing of a film about the Roma Holocaust.  The topic of the film was more interesting than the film itself and I blame that on the setting.  The viewing took place an hour late in an dark underground bar on a nice summer afternoon.  Subtitles in English didn't exist and the ones in Romanian I couldn't see anyway as the statues of my eyesight continues to degrade, especially in dark places.  The photo exhibit on the other hand was located out in the sun where I could actually read its good amount of text.  The photos depicted a group of nomadic Roma from Transylvania.  If you've ever seen Roma in movies, pictures, or listened to songs romanticizing their life then these are probably the ones you've heard of. 

Vojasa, pronounced voyasa, was the first band to go on and from the start they proved not to disappoint beginning the show with just two of there members on stages playing a unique percussion opening.  From start to finish the container playing musician spat beats into the microphone bringing back memories of Ternipe on the same stage in September.  The music, very similar to Ternipe, consisted of traditional Roma tunes with more of a rock feel supporting it from behind.  Suddenly the dust pile in front of the stage was being kicked around by a good sized crowd unable to stand still in the presence of such an energetic sound.  By the end of their show, a word unknown to much of the ex-pat crowd, "Vojasa" was being chanted loudly throughout the venue.

The energy was pushed up a notch by the nights headliner band out of Belgium, Antwerp Gypsy Ska Orchestra.  A couple of days earlier I listened to one or two of their tunes online and I wasn't all that impressed by the music but I could see the energy they brought to the stage and knowing a bit about ska music from my younger punk rock days I was confident that in the moment I would dig it.  Sure enough the music just intensified my own dancing and the entire group I was with moved right up to the stage to get the full effect.  The combination of the brass section, dancing onstage, and the charismatic front man made for a show that you want to last all night.  Unfortunately they were cut off shortly after 11. 

Once again Roma music at Gradina Uranus proved to be a great show and a great experience that I hope to catch at least once more before I leave this part of the world.  Last year's Balkan Fest was in September and in the September to come I just may be roaming back through the area to catch round two of that show.  Either way I am sure to be bringing this music along with me wherever I go as music by bands like Ternipe and Mahala Rai Banda never fail to put a smile on my face and a jump in my step. 

Spring Riding

Four hours of almost continuous riding can tire you out on a nice spring day.  Sunday presented me with the opportunity to get back out on the town discovering.  First off, I was finally in town for an entire weekend and secondly the weather turned out for me.  What more was there to discover?  After looking at the Bucharest map I noticed that even after living here for several months there are still large sections of the city that I have yet to wander around.  Sunday’s main goal was to see what Lacul Morii is all about.

Getting out the door took a while as there were things to do around the house.  Regardless, the continuously changing sky of the morning began calling from the first wake up call at 6 am continuing until it was shedding its light equally on each street.  It was then when the bike and I took our first steps of the day down the stairs of the block and out the door.  After making a couple of quick notes in my journal we were off to the sun overhead rather than behind us like I would have preferred. 

Part one of the ride took me through parts of town both familiar and unfamiliar.  Following the mighty Dambovita River from Piata Unirii I passed some of the nice downtown architecture and main boulevards.  Pedestrians and fishermen accompanied me along the route.  I temporarily veered off course when I saw the College of Foreign Language, Engineering and a few other things.  It looked almost like a park but one whose grounds keepers had taken a 5 year vacation.  People were running through the green, tree-lined lane which opened up to a large courtyard where students were resting and reading on benches surrounded by graffiti painted campus buildings and signs falling off their posts.  After making it back to the main route I continued up the river in search of the lake.  Before finding the lake I was caught in a dead end at one point and on the other side of the tracks at another point.  These hold ups added some time to the trip but not a single bit of frustration.  It was one of those Sunday drives in which getting lost and finding your way is not only permitted but welcomed.  After riding slowly through a packed park and up a dike I arrived at the lake, Lacul Morii, with its winds nearly blowing me over. 

Lacul Morii looks large on a map and looks large in real life but it only takes about an hour to ride around slowly on a bike.  There is a small island just off the coast of the lake with a bridge leading to it.  The island features a gazebo, a non-functioning fountain, an over-grown landscape and several picnickers.  Just beyond the north edge of the lake there is a landfill while the western edge includes a residential area, a small wooden church and many fishermen.  The western edge is the only part in which the road tracing the perimeter of the lake is broken and I was forced to ride into the residential area twice before completing my tour of the lake. 

From Lacul Morii the traffic, honking, asphalt, traffic lights, shops and crowdedness led me astray on my course to arrive at Herestrau park.  After ending up in Victoria square I could get back on track with hopes that eventually the largest park in Bucharest would act as a refuge from the overwhelming city elements closing in on me.  So it turned out, entering the large park was more like entering a mall on black Friday. 

The lanes were loaded with people walking, couples walking, and groups of people walking.  They were walking alone, walking their dogs, or walking their toddlers.  Meanwhile there were bikes weaving in and out of the people in what appeared to be a somewhat dangerous fashion even though miraculously I did not see any accidents.  It is Bucharest’s largest park with decently wide walkways but with the traffic it received on one of the first Sundays of spring you would hardly notice.  The main walkways feature a bright green lane lined in yellow with a white bicycle painted in the middle every 10 meters or so.  The bright green color of the bike lanes in Herestrau set it apart from bike lanes in other parts of the city.  Being that the park houses 2 bike-sharing programs and the popularity of riding in the park has been rising over the years, the realization and respect for the bike lanes are all the more important for the safety of all park users.  With the walking traffic that I saw in the park on Sunday the bike lanes might as well not be there.  They were not respected and they couldn’t have been respected with so many people in the park. 

As I was riding along I heard someone yell out “Maggie”.  Immediately, knowing who it must have been I stopped, turned around, and saw the country director of Peace Corps Romania.  Right, we both live in the same city but I was still quite surprised that with all of the people out that day I ran into someone that I knew.  After slowly creeping along having to get off and walk my bike in some parts I stopped and sat down in the grass next to the lake.  Despite their being so many people around you can stop, sit down in the grass, and when you see the view of the lake on a nice day it is actually quite easy to forget about the crowds of people passing along the asphalt walkway behind you.  For a short moment I admired a boat passing by and in the background an impressive example of communist architecture, in free press square.

 

My time was winding down and for various reasons I had start heading back to my place.  A 30-45 minute ride across the center of town awaited me.  I imaged the small streets that I would soon be riding on, Ioanei, Tamnei, Austriei, Carol 1, Dacia, Mihai Eminescu, ect.  After living here for just 8 months I know certain parts of the city like the back of my hand.  During that ride back I reflected on the newly discovered parts of the city and realized that my last few months in Bucharest are looking to be full of similar bike rides over previously unknown streets. 

St. Patricks Day 2012

“Everyone’s Irish on St. Paddy’s Day”.  Some people love this saying and some people hate it.  Some of the not so Irish or partly Irish like myself love it because it gives them an opportunity to celebrate, whether it be by gathering together with family at grandma’s or with friends at the pub.  It may be that the one’s that despise the phrase aren’t Irish and therefore they don’t find that they have a reason to celebrate it.  I’ve heard people in this bracket complain that people say they’re Irish on St. Patrick’s Day just for another reason to get drunk.  The others that I could see disliking the above mentioned expression are the actual 100% Irish who might see the current and sometimes belligerent interpretation of their national holiday as an attack on their culture.  While perusing facebook on the greenest day of the year I noticed that a friend of mine, whom I respect, posted a comment that showed his discontent of the holiday.  His comment made me think and examine why it is that I celebrate St. Paddy’s Day.  Eventually I’ve determined that the answer to this question more about where I come from than where my great great great grandparents came from.

Corning NY is a small town in upstate New York where workers once immigrated to the area to work in the glass-factory.  Now scientist, engineers and business-men come as all the laborers are now in China.  There is undoubtedly an Irish presence in Corning weather it be in the names of my classmates and friends (O’hare, Stack, O’Laughlin ) but maybe more evident when you see the names of some of the older bars in town (Maleys, Murphys, McKlintock).  When listening to the attendance called out in school you hear some Irish names but it by no means dominates the list like the Italian names do.  Either way, one of the neat things about Corning is that today, like many years ago, you find people from many different backgrounds.  For being a small conservative town a stone’s throw away from the middle of nowhere it does have some surprising diversity.  I suppose a lot of small towns in America is like that.

I first learned about St. Patrick’s Day at home, secondly in the church and lastly in school.  There are two things that I remember most about St. Patrick’s Day celebrations long ago and they have both been present in my last couple of celebrations, the color green and the film Darby O’Gill and the Little People.  That’s right, I didn’t say green beer.  I’m talking long ago when someone, maybe at school, introduced me to one of my all time favorite Disney films.  Check it out if you haven’t yet.  I can’t go on reminiscing about St. Patrick’s Days without mentioning my Great Grandma Mertson who when you walk into her house on the special day it’s like a new green starburst, flavor explosion for your eyes.  On top of that, the traditional corned beef and cabbage is served at her place and it really makes you feel Irish, whether you are or you’re not. 

Finally we get to the part where booze is involved.  I will admit that green beer, Jamison and Irish car bombs took a pretty central role in my St. Patty’s day celebrations of my 20’s but looking back, those were relatively few up until I came to Romania.  In Romania they don’t really celebrate St. Patrick’s Day so the last couple holidays I spent explaining who St. Patrick was to my students then going home to watch Darby O’Gill.  Things are a bit different in Bucharest and this year I was able to have a much more thorough celebration of the Irish holiday.

First off, there are Irish in Bucharest and one of them happens to be my boss.  The Peace Corps Romania St. Patrick’s Day party kicked off the holiday with some old-school Irish tunes playing on the radio, learning to sing one and of course, pin the shamrock on the leprechaun.  Though this last part is probably not traditionally Irish, it was fun and it got people in the spirit of celebrating.  The following day the Irish Embassy scheduled a music event in center of old town featuring an Irish people-pleaser band called the Amazing Apples and a couple of other Flogging-Molly style Romanian bands (literally covering Flogging Molly songs).  After the show, traditionally dressed bagpipers toured old town with a drummer, guitar player and mandolin player.  They played their instruments, sang and danced on the floors of bars throughout old town.  This part of the evening was surely a treat.  Later on my friend Mihaela and I went to an Irish pub we haven’t been to yet to pack into the crowd for an extended evening with the Amazing Apples playing not only Irish tunes but also crowd pleasers like their Lady Gaga/MGMT mash-up.  Even though it wasn’t much like my old-time favorite Corning celebrations of St. Patrick it was still a great time and it did include that good traditional Irish music that you usually hear playing on my computer and ipod during the 5 days leading up to the holiday.

To those who can’t stand the saying “Everybody’s Irish on St. Patty’s Day” my advice to you is to live and let live.  Right, people do use it for an excuse to get drunk sometimes but lets be honest, if St. Patrick’s Day wasn’t an excuse to get drunk something else would be (Friday, happy hour, over the hump, ect.).  Secondly, I believe I read somewhere recently that the Irish are the second largest immigrant group in the United States to the Germans.  Maybe all those people saying that they’re Irish actually are, at least a bit.  What makes the US so unique is that it is a country of immigrants.  Here in Romania we celebrate Romanian holidays where we eat Romanian food dance the traditional Romanian dances and partake in some, at times strange, but interesting Romanian customs that go back centuries.  In the states you find people from all different backgrounds who celebrate in the way their parents taught them which is where they come from and may be quite different from how you were taught to celebrate.  This is one of the beauties of the US.