7. The People’s Palace

Later, Petru took me to the Casa Republicii. Ceaușescu considered this ‘House of the Republic’ as the crowning achievement of his work. The palace was his idea and was built on a hill at the end of the 3.5 kilometre long Bulevardul Victoriei Socialismului, the Boulevard of Socialist Victory. Construction had started in 1982 and was supposed to be completed two years later, but it still wasn’t finished. To make the construction possible, Ceaușescu had an entire neighbourhood demolished in the early 1980s, including historical churches, monasteries, and villas. Around seven square kilometres of historic city center were razed, and 40,000 people were forced to relocate.

I gazed at the People’s Palace. The building was 84 meters tall and had a floor area of 36.5 hectares, over fifty soccer fields in size. Just due to its dimensions, the monstrosity was symbolic of the dictator’s megalomania. To keep costs as low as possible, construction was carried out by forced labourers and soldiers. The costs were estimated at 1.75 billion dollars in 1989. Between 20,000 and 100,000 people worked on the project, in three shifts, consisting of 5,000 soldiers from the People’s Army and vast numbers of forced labourers. It’s unclear how many people died in the process. Official records state 27 deaths, but according to workers, the number was higher, potentially even reaching thousands of casualties.

I asked Petru about it. He shrugged. According to him, around sixty workers had lost their lives during construction.

The palace overlooked the 120-meter-wide boulevard that led to Piata Unirii, the Unity Square. The road was lined with tall buildings in which Ceaușescu had planned residences for his officials and members of the Securitate. The palace was primarily intended as living and office space for him and his family. It was also meant to house the Central Committee and administrative units of the Communist Party and the state.

My companion showed me the underground entrance that led out to the boulevard. There were six underground levels in the palace, including a nuclear bunker. “This way, Ceaușescu could always arrive safely and didn’t have to step out on the street. What do you think of it?” he gestured towards the palace.

I detected some pride and cautiously responded, “It’s quite impressive.” “Isn’t it a wonderful fusion of various styles?” Petru remarked. “It’s a pinnacle of Romanian architecture.” He pointed again, this time to a corner of the building where he claimed his office was located. Petru worked in government service, but the exact nature of his work remained vague.

I realised his salary was insufficient as we walked a bit around the palace. It was still bitterly cold, even by Romanian standards. Petru hesitated, “Can I trust you?”

“Of course. What’s the matter?”

“I want to visit my daughter from my first marriage tomorrow, but Ileana can’t find out. If she hears about it, I’ll be in big trouble. The problem is, I don’t have money for the trip. Can you lend me something? After all, you’ll pass by on your way back. By then, I’ll have received my salary and I’ll pay you back.”

The truth was out. It was hard for me to refuse, especially since he kept reassuring me that he would repay me. We took the metro to the Hotel Intercontinental on Boulevard Nicolae Bãlcescu and got off at the Universitate station. A year ago, there had been a sign here: ‘For the youths who sacrificed themselves and saved the country.’ Christmas branches had been placed, and candles had been lit where the barricades once stood. But there was nothing left of that now, just like the enthusiastic spirit of those early days of the revolution. That seemed to have been firmly crushed by the new rulers led by President Ion Iliescu, himself a former minister under Ceaușescu and a member of the Communist Party.

While he was democratically elected as president in 1990, his policies faced significant resistance among the population. Last year, on May 13, the riot police had forcefully ended a demonstration here at Piata Universitatea. This led to serious unrest, after which loyal miners from the Bucharest area were called upon to put an end to the demonstrations. Hundreds of miners responded and intervened harshly. In the days that followed, dozens of casualties occurred. However, the miners hadn’t just targeted the protesters. Confidence in the new politics had also suffered significant blows due to their actions.

The exact number of deaths resulting from the Romanian revolution was never truly clear. The precise roles of the military and the state security service were never fully clarified either. During the December days of ’89, rumours had circulated for the first few days that there were thousands of victims in Timișoara. This was later revised to several hundreds. In total, between 1000 and 1400 deaths were reported.

*

In the Hotel Intercontinental, I exchanged 100 marks. Petru was quite disappointed that no hard currency was given. He grumbled, but outside, he accepted a thick stack of Romanian lei with gratitude. His ‘little problem’ seemed to be solved.

Our friendship was unbreakable.

8. Cartoons

Back in the apartment, everyone empathised with my worries about reaching Bulgaria on time. Along with Petru, I had gone to the station to see if there was any progress. Apart from four militia men beating someone up, there wasn’t much going on. My train wouldn’t depart until at least midnight.

We watched cartoons and the soap opera Dallas, and saw a cheesy Jean-Paul Belmondo in an over-the-top action movie. The family responded with childlike delight, finding everything equally wonderful, proud of the Western blessings. “The past? Ah, that was nothing. Now it’s much better, right?” Petru said as he demonstrated the colour television and flipped through channels.

A colleague with the fortunate possession of a car was called. I was more than willing to pay. Could he drive me to Varna? “If you had called four or five hours earlier, I hadn’t had anything to drink yet. I really can’t drive now. If the police catch me, I’ll be in big trouble. It could cost me my job.”

Even a taxi driver on the street wasn’t up for it. No problem up to the border. But beyond that? “No mister. They never let me through.”

Petru’s family was genuinely starting to show concern. Ileana at least frowned deeply when she heard that I would be traveling alone at night. She gave advice through Puka and Petru. “At the very least, find someone who looks somewhat trustworthy and sit in the compartment with them. Or even better: find a group to join. And beware of gypsy types.”

‘Dsjapdserap’, that’s how she referred to robbery.

In the end, Petru took me to the station, but not before a friendly farewell and exchange of addresses. I solemnly promised to visit on the way back. There was still time for a cup of coffee at the station. Petru got some candy for me. “For the journey.”