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Dealul Spirii, the neighborhood where I grew up, was typical for Bucharest. We were neighbors with the Dragos family. Their son became an undersecretary of state during the war [World War II]. Further away lived the family of a Frenchman, Legat, who was a photographer and owned a photo cabinet, the Legat Photo Cabinet. On the opposite side of the street lived an Italian bricklayer whose name was Perisotti. There was also a Romanian shoemaker, Vasile Anagnoste, a veteran social democratic militant; he was a very intelligent and cultivated man, and I enjoyed talking to him. He had a bordei [Ed. note: very modest house, usually made of clay; a shanty.] on the Uranus blind alley, which he referred to as ‘his quarters’. He worked at the Schull footwear factory. There was also a French driver who lived on that blind alley. His son was my schoolmate. His father used to beat him up for nothing with the car crank. Back then, automobiles weren’t automatic, so the driver had to insert a crank in front and rotate it until the engine started. Well, the men beat his son with the crank, and I still remember, more than 80 years later, how the boy once told me: ‘You’ve got such a great father!’ ‘Why do you say that?’ I asked him. ‘Because he never beats you and he buys you boots!’ He was impressed because my father didn’t beat me and I was never barefoot. Another schoolmate of mine lived on the blind alley too – his name was Marius Condrea. I remember all our other neighbors: the pretzel maker at the corner, the grocer at another corner. The grocer’s daughters were renowned ballerinas at the variety show theater. When I grew up, I would go from time to time to eat mici [grilled minced meat rolls] at the Florescu restaurant on 13 Septembrie Ave. I also remember the druggist lady on another corner and the male druggist who succeeded her.
People from Oltenia came to our courtyard. They were real Oltenians, from Gorj [County]. [Ed. note: These were people who had come to Bucharest from a distance of over 100 kilometers, and had settled at the outskirts, where they gardened and grew animals, thus supplying the city with food.]. Each of them carried two large baskets with fruit, vegetables, flowers, and big jars of yogurt which they poured with a spoon. We would buy all sorts of things – fruit, vegetables, eggs, cheese. Of course, there was also the marketplace. My mother went there with a lady cook who worked for us and looked after the house. However, they didn’t go to the marketplace too often, because it was the marketplace that came to us. Charcoal was carried using a yoke too. It was because of the charcoal that I got lost when I was 4 or 5. We lived near Viilor Dr. and I started to follow a charcoal tradesman. I thought it was interesting, the way they used to walk around with their yokes and cry ‘Get your charcoal!’ I had never heard anything like that, so I followed him until I got to another neighborhood, and my grandfather showed up and took my by the hand. The poor Oltenians were barefoot and lived in very poor conditions. Nowadays, there aren’t any barefoot people in Bucharest, but, back then, this was a common sight. Many walked barefoot in summer. This is why my neighbor’s son, whom I played with, was impressed to see me with boots on. He walked barefoot, and so did other friends of mine. We don’t have this anymore nowadays, and we owe it to the communist regime. Before the time of Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej [1], it was common to see barefoot men and women. Wearing boots in summer was considered luxury. I remember there were people who walked barefoot while carrying their boots in their hands, so that the soles wouldn’t wear down. They must have gone to a place where they had to have footwear.
People from Oltenia came to our courtyard. They were real Oltenians, from Gorj [County]. [Ed. note: These were people who had come to Bucharest from a distance of over 100 kilometers, and had settled at the outskirts, where they gardened and grew animals, thus supplying the city with food.]. Each of them carried two large baskets with fruit, vegetables, flowers, and big jars of yogurt which they poured with a spoon. We would buy all sorts of things – fruit, vegetables, eggs, cheese. Of course, there was also the marketplace. My mother went there with a lady cook who worked for us and looked after the house. However, they didn’t go to the marketplace too often, because it was the marketplace that came to us. Charcoal was carried using a yoke too. It was because of the charcoal that I got lost when I was 4 or 5. We lived near Viilor Dr. and I started to follow a charcoal tradesman. I thought it was interesting, the way they used to walk around with their yokes and cry ‘Get your charcoal!’ I had never heard anything like that, so I followed him until I got to another neighborhood, and my grandfather showed up and took my by the hand. The poor Oltenians were barefoot and lived in very poor conditions. Nowadays, there aren’t any barefoot people in Bucharest, but, back then, this was a common sight. Many walked barefoot in summer. This is why my neighbor’s son, whom I played with, was impressed to see me with boots on. He walked barefoot, and so did other friends of mine. We don’t have this anymore nowadays, and we owe it to the communist regime. Before the time of Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej [1], it was common to see barefoot men and women. Wearing boots in summer was considered luxury. I remember there were people who walked barefoot while carrying their boots in their hands, so that the soles wouldn’t wear down. They must have gone to a place where they had to have footwear.
Period
Location
Bucharest
Romania
Interview
Gavril Marcuson