CROSSING OCEANS

I haven’t touched this blog in a while. Shame on me! I see that there are still people checking in and I should have shown more respect towards their resilience in sticking with me.
I don’t like to make promises I am not sure I can keep so I won’t promise anything right now. Still, I proposed to myself to post more often, and not only reviews or interviews with guests. I do like to think that you want something more from me.
I do procrastinate sometimes. Even though I found lots of subjects around me to write about, the desire to write vanished until I got to my computer.
Besides, sometimes life throws you a ball with a steep curve and you can’t miss it. Impulse also controls decisions, and when you have a strong one, you have to go with it because the door of opportunity might close before your eyes.
I, for one, have always embraced impulse, and most of the time, that has proven to be the right way for me. But that’s just me.
About thirteen years ago, I decided to cross the ocean and build a new life for myself on the other side. Now, I have come full circle, and passed the ocean once more, to return to what I knew before.
I had surprises both times and yet, the biggest one was when I crossed that expanse of water the second time.
Only thirteen years had passed. And still, I found a different world, which gave me the feeling that I didn’t belong.
Don’t get me wrong, I must have had such sensation once or twice in the past, even though I can’t remember. This time though, months have passed, and that feeling hasn’t vanished yet. It will probably stay with me for a long time if not forever.
The problem is that I haven’t thought that the world doesn’t stop for anyone. People change, cities change and, surprisingly, after only thirteen years, language may change as well.
Who would have thought? Not me, for sure. I thought that the evolution of a language would take much longer.
Bucharest hasn’t lost its aura of a town caught at crossroads linking west and east. It has undoubtedly remained a Balkan town to the bones, impatient, busy and colorful.  
The traffic is as undisciplined as I remembered. You can spot people making the sign of the cross before crossing the street, as well as pedestrians thinking they are immortal or indestructible. Therefore, they brave the rows of angry cars, crossing the road when the traffic lights show red for them or wherever they feel like it.
They probably want to have their revenge over the rows of cars parked on sidewalks. Being a pedestrian nowadays in the Bucharest of the twenty-first century is a fantastic feat of courage.
Conservative clothing belongs to the past now. Flowers are paired with circles and colors clash, hurting the eyes, already wounded by the scorching sun. A decade and a half ago, you wouldn’t have seen someone well lodged in the middle age wearing pastels, and now pink, yellow and purple abound.
People over sixty are obsessed with Facebook and what they posted. Former discussions about children, market and their flowerpots are replaced with conversations about who liked or shared their posts.
Amazingly, a lot of them get even into the dating scene of the social sites, so you can only imagine what they talk about nowadays. Not even fifty years ago, they would have discussed their retirement, their treatments in various resorts and in the best case, their grandchildren.
Anyway, it is not my place to pass judgment but just to observe. Everyone should do what suits them and what makes them happy.  
What makes me happy is writing. I will try to be consistent and share the things I see with you.
I’d say until tomorrow…. But only God knows…