With such a long and complicated (but cutely suggestive, right) title, you may wonder what I am on about right now. Well, I came up with the idea a couple of days ago when I was standing in a Costa drinking a green at 6 p.m. (don’t judge me!) and I was absorbed in writing something very sad and serious and, out of nowhere, I hear people talking in Romanian. Now this is not uncommon in London, especially in the area I live in, but when I do it’s often from all the wrong people (the ones I wouldn’t be too happy to go and say “Oh, you’re Romanian, too? Let’s talk about our culture and share our experiences of being Romanians in a quite hostile land – against us, I mean: I won’t get too much into it, but, what I can say, it’s no picnic being Romanian or Bulgarian in Europe at the moment).
Well, for a moment I was completely distracted and I got agitated for a (short) while. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop on a conversation that was more likely private (even more so when thinking nobody around understood them), but for a second there I just rejoiced hearing my mother tongue being spoken by normal and educated people in a Costa, in London. Yesterday had another not-so-similar experience. This time when I arrived home I was struck by the lack of education two strange men (that is that looked like thugs in leather jackets) that went in the hall right before me, but didn’t bother to hold the door for me. …..click here to read more