a family

meet ioan and violeta, both 37. they have been married for 11 years and have seven children, aged 7 through 21.

ioan, violeta and abel, 12. most of the other children did not want to be photographed.

we met them when i noticed their kids playing on the railroad tracks outside their house.

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ioan and violeta are a mixed couple, in that she is a roma and he is not.  the family – all nine of them – live in a three-room, 30 m² shack by the rail line that leads into the old abandoned factory. the house, which originally had only one room, was owned by the railroad company before it went out of business.

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ioan added the other two rooms and built a storage space on the roof. (he works in construction, and frequently decamps to england for a few weeks at at time to find work, as there is little work for him in romania.) the house has electricity, but lacks a refrigerator or running water, which was cut off two years ago. every day, the family takes a cart with empty jugs to a standpipe down the road and fills them with water. violeta cooks one meal in a large pot on a stove which sits next to one of the beds (and which serves as the house’s only heating source), and then the family eats the food throughout the day.

ioan and violeta had a lease with the railroad company, but, since the company went bankrupt, the city has been trying to evict them for years and move them to the factory housing where the other roma are. ioan and violeta have avoided eviction so far, but their options for better housing seem non-existant.

roma in romania





scenes from the courtyard of housing occupied by roma families in bucharest. these families have been squatting here for years, unofficially tolerated by the municipal government.

i can’t do a series on romania without discussing the roma. there is a sensitivity around photographing roma. first, the relationship is exploitative on both sides: we photograph them because they are “exotic,” and they know it; and they are going to ask us for money at some point, and we know it. second, according to our translator (who is roma himself) the legacy of roma slavery in the romanian territories from the 14th to the 19th century – yes, the roma were slaves throughout the balkans for centuries – is something that neither broader society nor the roma themselves have adequately addressed. this accounts for some of the exoticism, which in addition to bright clothing and distinctive cultural customs, is a reflection of the poverty that many of them face. this circles back to another issue of photographing the roma: when we photograph roma, it’s partly poverty tourism, which is uncomfortably voyeuristic, and many of the roma don’t want to participate in that, and also they know that our taking their photos to show our friends isn’t going to do much to change their situation. this isn’t to say that it can’t be done, or that it can’t be an opportunity for meaningful human interaction, but you have to be aware of the issues and address the situation the right way.

for example, we stopped at a roma community outside the village of iscroni (below) because we were driving by and it looked interesting. we split up, and i found a few people who spoke english. only one of them was willing to have his photo taken, but i didn’t shoot until after we’d talked a bit about who i was and why i was there. some of the other people in our party faced a little resistance, however, and at least one request for money.

that said, the people we met were friendly enough. between our translator, the few of them that spoke english, and the one who spoke greek, we were able to have a number of conversations; and once we all just started talking, we started taking snapshots of the pets, and then of the children (who were thrilled to pose and then look at the camera backs). after that, we could shoot freely.





roma community, iscroni.

however, let’s turn back to those issues … anti-roma attitudes seems to be casually held among some of the population. the jolly sheep shearer we met during our travels was the epitome of hospitality, but when we expressed our appreciation for inviting us in, he joked “i’d even invite in a roma!” it wasn’t said to be vicious; it’s just something the people say. our translator told us that many roma try to hide their heritage and even deny that they are roma, and that when one popular rapper, who had claimed to be latin american, “came out” as a roma, he lost endorsement deals. on the other hand, there are roma identity politics, so social attitudes between the roma and other romanians are multilayered.


children dancing with us during a community party in the housing courtyard. the puddles of green ooze are behind us (no joke).

the government’s attitude toward the roma, on the other hand, seems to be more pointed, at least at the local level. in bucharest situation depicted above, the neglect is benign, but the roma can’t expect any help, either. at the other end of the spectrum, in baia mare, the city had moved a group of roma into the housing units of an abandoned factory where there were no working toilets. the community used a corner of a field for their needs, and the waste had leached through the soil and into the center courtyard where the children played.

we walked into that complex during a community party, and had just begun to shoot using our tested methods when a team of security guards, who keep an eye on the abandoned factory grounds, came over and told us to stop shooting and leave. they said it was “out of respect for the residents,” but the roma began to argue with the guards, telling them (graphically) to go away and that they wanted us there. the guards’ concern was not for the residents’ well-being: it seemed to be a policy to keep “regular” people from seeing the conditions of the housing.

the next day, we went to the affiliated housing complex across the street. the complex had one nicely-painted façade facing the street, but the rest of the units were behind a wall. our translator told us that the city had built the wall ostensibly to keep the children from running into the street but really so that passers-by wouldn’t be able to (or have to) see the housing conditions. our translator is an activist so he might have been biased, and the wall might have been there already, but as the below (unretouched) photos show, the difference between the two sides of the wall is so stark, i thought i was looking at the “wizard of oz” scene when dorothy travels between kansas and oz:

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we were there to meet one of the local activists, but to talk about matters totally unrelated to roma housing or social conditions. the light was good, so here are some interior shots. (this is the point in the blog at which my photos get self-consciously “arty.”)

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next: a family

old people and farm animals, part 2

while we were in baia mare, we drove around the maramureș region. maramureș is known for, among other things, maramureș gates, which are massive carved gates standing in front of houses. one finds the gates in rural areas and suburban villages alike, and even if the house itself is modest, the gate looks impressive.

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(rainbow not included)

we walked through the village of harnicesti where we met these women, who were hilarious. apparently, most of what they were saying was pretty ribald (for example, one of them announced that “when you die, the only things that matter is the places you went and the people you f***ed”). the one with the facial expressions could have been some kind of minnie pearl/amy schumer mashup had she been born in a different time and place.

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from there, we found another farm with goats and sheep. i didn’t get the name of the family.

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next, we met ileana – who had a dog, but no livestock – and she invited us in to see all the trousseau work she had done over the years.

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finally, we met vasile and his wife, who were shearing sheep – and passing around the palinka, a fruit brandy that tasted (and burned) very much like albania raki. i had never seen sheep being sheared before – once the wool is cut from the sheep, it almost peels off in a solid, felted sheet. the sheep didn’t look overly uncomfortable while it was being sheared, and i’m sure it felt a lot better once it was done.

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in all, quite the busy day.

old people and farm animals

when we left bucharest, and were just a few hours out of the city, we took a wrong turn and drove into a hamlet called voinesea, where we met ilie and his nephew. they stay in a one-room house during the warmer months, tending to their animals and keeping the riverbanks clean.

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later that day, we landed in hunedoara, outside petrila (which i blogged about earlier), where we met marcu, his wife (not pictured) and his mother, and a whole lotta sheep.

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next: more on this topic

baile herculane

back to the crumbly stuff …

băile herculane (the baths of hercules), in the southwest of romania, is a spa town whose roots as such stretch back to roman times. the town is known for thermal springs containing sulphur and other restorative minerals. we didn’t smell sulphur in the air during our visit, but i’m told the town can really reek of it on some days.

many of the prettiest buildings, which are now in various states of disrepair, date to the era of the austrian-hungarian empire – one bathhouse, for example, was built for empress elisabeth of austria.

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the bath itself is very deep, accessed only by a tunnel from the hotel across the street where the empress used to stay.

one of the largest former spa buildings was unsecured, so naturally i had to go in despite the posted sign warning people to keep out. what follows is too many photos of a building that has fallen apart.

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the bath house exterior and one of the pools
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private baths (what’s left of them)
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very long central hallways, with probably 80 private baths leading off the four sections

the biggest surprise was the fountain in the central hall, whose wallpaper and ceiling decorations were still largely intact:

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naturally, during the communist era, the authorities constructed a number of multi-storey concrete apartment buildings and hotels for workers’ holidays that perfectly maintained the historical architectural motifs of the town.

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they closed the mine

petrila, a town about halfway between bucharest and the serbian border, was a mining town until 2015. according to one article, petrila’s mine had been in operation for 156 years, and without the mine, there is no significant economic activity in the town at all.

naturally, photos like this look better in black-and-white.

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from the looks of it, parts of the mining operating had been left to fall apart for longer than a year, but who knows.

for the former miners, life goes on. these guys aren’t sitting alone at home at 10 on a friday morning.

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a mosaic of impressions

(i was in romania for a photography workshop, and my instructor encouraged me to think in a less literal way about how i organize my photos. he suggested that i avoid being strictly categorical and that i instead organize my photos more loosely – in a more impressionistic or visually thematic manner. with that in mind:)

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mosaic-05 mosaic-06 mosaic-07 mosaic-08
mosaic-08 mosaic-09 mosaic-10 mosaic-11
mosaic-12 mosaic-13 mosaic-14 mosaic-15

i’ll keep experimenting. feel free to comment on this.

the third post about romania: remembering the colectiv nightclub fire

on october 30 of last year, a metalcore band named “goodbye to gravity” held a free concert at the colectiv nightclub in bucharest. somewhere between 200 and 400 concert-goers crammed into a space that was designed to hold 80 people and, in what was essentially a repeat of the 2003 station nightclub fire, the band set off pyrotechnics which ignited the (flammable) soundproofing material attached to the pillars and ceiling. the fire set off a stampede for the doors but there was only one working exit, and by the end of the evening, 26 people had died in the club from burns and smoke inhalation, and another 184 were injured in some way. victims had to be transferred to hospitals as far away as switzerland and israel because local hospitals could not handle the sudden flood of patients. over the following week, another 38 people died in the hospital, bringing the total fatality count to 64.

outrage over the official response to the disaster – the realization that romania did not have the hospital capacity to respond to the injuries and that local officials had ignored occupancy and fire safety violations – fueled already-existing anger over government corruption. huge protests began on november 3 to demand that the government resign, which it did the next day. mourners have gathered outside the complex in which the club was located on the 30th of each month since then to commemorate the disaster. (naturally, the police block access to the club site itself.)

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the second post about romania

(for anyone who didn’t see the first post about romania, read the previous post.)


this is a very long sidewalk – easily half a kilometer of unbroken pavement. what is it?

it is the façade of the palace of the parliament, romanian dictator nicolae ceaușescu’s “gift” to the people. (ironically, or perhaps not ironically at all, he was overthrown and executed before the building was completed.) some facts:

  • the palace of the parliament is the heaviest building in the world, the second-largest government administrative building in the world, and the third largest building in the world overall, with a height of 84 meters, a footprint of 365,000 square meters and a volume of 2,550,000 cubic meters.
  • it contains 1,100 rooms (only 400 of which are in use), including the senate, the chamber of deputies, the palace museum, and the museums of contemporary art and of communist totalitarianism.
  • according to engineers, it is sinking under its own weight, by 6mm per year.

at this rate, it will disappear completely in 14,000 years, so visit soon – but if you are a foreigner, don’t forget to bring your passport with you, or you won’t be able to get in; a simple id card isn’t enough – a fact that someone might have clarified in all the guide books and websites, thank you very much.

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