Hey Ho, Hey Ho. It’s Off to Work–Again

In Jack’s Wednesday guest post he continues his Romanian adventure – –

After a break back home, I returned for a second month-long stint at Ploesti in Romania. This time was more relaxed as I was familiar with the set-up and the folks with whom I was working. Not only that, but my kind-hearted boss, Alan, paid for Wendy to join me for the last two weeks, so it was a bit like a paid vacation!

While I was teaching during the day, Wendy made contact with a fellow folklorist in the local university, explored the town, fed the many stray dogs, and found the Pinot Noir from Prahova Valley in a local supermarket, which we loved—both wine and market. Along the way she began to make contacts for a visit she wanted to make in the future, connecting Scottish young musicians, dancers, and storytellers with their Roma counterparts.

During this time we had become friendly enough with some people to be invited to their homes – mostly small apartments in high-rise, Soviet-era blocks with extended families crammed in. We also discovered that most folk worked at least two jobs and sometimes three just to survive. We were frequently embarrassed by our relative wealth!

Wendy especially befriended two schoolteachers who would later host her storytelling club kids, and they were crammed into a studio apartment, working their day jobs as teachers and night jobs in retail.

Wendy could also join me for the lavish occasional evening meals presided over by the ex- secret-police chief, who was frightening because he was so affable. But his interpreter had been working for me all day, and he always kept her going through the evenings as well – we felt sorry for her. And maybe she didn’t find him quite so affable…

Wendy visited the famous clock museum, and we were able to make a trip to the even more famous ‘Dracula’s Castle’…

…where we discovered that you could buy wine called Dracula’s blood – made in California!

We also bonded with the young girl working for the hotel, serving breakfasts before school began. We invited her to visit us and discovered that her ability to get a passport was hampered by economics. Thinking we could help, we discovered that kids from Roma communities had to pay astronomical sums just to apply, and were often denied visas.

We enjoyed Romania overall, while aware of its many injustices, and became aware that the population hankered to be seen as west Europeans. Bucharest is often referred to as ‘the Paris of the east.’

Wendy was able to re-connect and take her group of young folk with help from the EU and the British Council to spend time with the Roma kids in the north east of the country, comparing their different but related cultures. She went back to the hotel on a quick visit, but the young lassie was no longer employed, and she couldn’t find anyone to tell her in English if she had ever made it to Europe or simply quit.

Much later when we had opened our bookstore in Big Stone Gap, Virginia, we hosted ‘international nights,’ and one was presented by a friend who was a Romanian immigrant. He had been present when the Ceaușescu reign came to an end, and Wendy and I had our knowledge of the country expanded by his stories. We always wondered how the secret police chief managed to get to be the head of a large, newly private company – – –

Maybe our lasting memory is that Romania loves gypsy fiddlers and their music but treats their Roma folk very badly – the same people who play their fiddles. We remember the kids sneaking into the yard outside our hotel to get water from the outside faucet. And the sweetness of the music. Life is complicated.

I Was So Much Older Then – –

Jack keeps the home fires burning while Wendy is otherwise engaged – –

The ‘Round the World Trip to Bedford’

Me just after returning!

In (I think) 1961 I finished my apprenticeship as a painter and decorator. Two close friends also reached this landmark – John McDonald as an electrician and Bill Beveridge as a mechanical engineer.

I knew John through our shared love of folk music and Bill through our interest in left wing politics and anti-war sentiments.

For some reason we decided it would be fun to hitch-hike around the world. We had all, separately, already done this around Britain so it seemed like the next thing to do. But we were all still living at home with our parents so we reckoned we should dip our toes in the water first.

We jointly rented a small apartment in the center of our home town of Dunfermline which we promptly named ‘Dharma’ – we’d heard of Kerouak – – –

For about six months we hosted parties, piled up dishes and eventually got some kind of handle on things – ate regularly and even bathed regularly. When we made the decision to finally set sail we compared our savings and discovered we had twenty five pounds between us which seemed perfectly adequate! Before we set off I made the mistake of telling another friend who was a reporter on the local newspaper what we were going to do. He came and interviewed us and asked how we’d handle the languages we’d encounter. John jokingly said he knew Swahili as he could sing ‘Wimoweh’ – that wound up on the front page of the Dunfermline Press.

We eventually vacated the apartment and hitched to London where we knew two people who could give us temporary lodgings. Unfortunately they were on opposite sides of the city and tube fares and meals ate up our money. Reduced to a few pounds and desperate, Bill said he knew two sisters from Bedford who were due in court at the Old Bailey that day charged for civil disobedience. We met them and their parents outside and that’s when our plans changed.

The girls’ parents were very upper middle class and members of the Fabian Society (intellectual left wingers), and delighted to have three working class Scots to show off and take to parties.

We all got jobs and mine was with a high class decorating firm – I really appreciated the experience working for them. We wound up getting lodgings with a lovely Italian woman, Mrs Belfiore, who took us under her wing and really mothered us.

We frequented the Crown pub regularly and it had an upper room where we heard great music including, on one occasion Ken Colyer’s jazz band. Bill put down a deposit on a moped and I managed to almost cut off my heel with the pedal. We jointly bought a pre-war Austin 7 with cable brakes that hardly worked and needed early planning for traffic lights.

An Austin 7

We eventually got fed up and headed back to Dunfermline during a very cold winter in the Austin 7 with lots of scary moments and went our separate ways.

Life went on for all of us – – –

I had been working for my Dad before we left but he couldn’t re-employ me when we came back (maybe to teach me something?), so I moved to Edinburgh and hung out with art college friends for another six months. Got a job there with another very high class decorating firm and learned lots more.

I came home and fell right into the folk music scene – the rest is history.