Occasionally I come across a box around the house. A box of photographs. Not many, not as many as I'd like. My memories, in this box, are not too old. No older than 35 years. There's an explanation, but I won't say it now.
When I miss my youth I take the lid off the box and look for certain photos. Vacation photos. Photos from the sea.
For me, the sea and vacation mean freedom. I lived the first part of my life in a communist regime where freedom was just a dream and a wish that I didn't think I would see fulfilled.
I was looking for some freedom then too. The place where I felt free was by the sea. The place where there was freedom at the Black Sea was called Vama Veche and it was a fishing village on the edge of the country, one kilometer from the Bulgarian border.
A small beach and a small bay. Accommodation in fishermen's houses. Little comfort. All day on the beach. Lots of freedom! That's what Vama Veche meant. With a little more kindness it could have been a hippie colony. A long overdue hippie movement... There is nothing special about us when it comes to delays.
There is a saying:
Romania is fifty years behind the developed countries, so if the end of the world is coming, it will come fifty years later here.
I found some photos. Enough to strongly stimulate my nostalgia for my lost youth.
Now, when I look at the photo, I can't believe I only see three cars. And all the same.
35 years ago there were only a few cars here.
Now there are so many. There's almost no room to walk to the border.
Because at the end of this road is Bulgaria.
Writers and poets discovered this place in the 1950s. Nina Cassian was perhaps the best known. Nonconformist and courageous in an extremely dark and oppressive age. Her poem, Lady of Miracles/ Donna Miraculata, was chosen as one of the top 50 love poems of the last 50 years.
„Since you walked out on me/ I’m getting lovelier by the hour./ I glow like a corpse in the dark. / No one sees how round and sharp / my eyes have grown / how my carcass looks like a glass urn, / how I hold up things in the rags of my hands, / the way I can stand though crippled by lust. / No, there’s just your cruelty circling / my head like a bright rotting halo".source
My biggest regret is that I arrived in Vama Veche so late, after 35 years. I arrived there almost too late when the place was already being sought by more and more people who were not interested in the cultural aspect. They were looking for a place of freedom, but freedom for alcohol, sex, and partying.
Anyway, I'm glad I'm not too late. I had almost ten more years of joy and freedom at the sea, in nature, and not among hotels and restaurants.
My memories of the sea always start with Vama Veche. A few old photos in the box hidden under my bed make me dream again. Only this time the dreams are familiar because I've lived them.
The beach. All day at the beach. The happiest were the children. On the left is my son, with a friend. We called them, I hope you can guess why: Bones I, and Bones II.
I miss. Now I'm much freer, freer than I ever hoped but I miss the freedom of those holidays.
Some of my friends looked all day for shells and colored stones beautifully shaped by the seawater. The fisherman not seen is me and other friends looking for shells in the sea.
I forgot to tell you that the beauty of these holidays was that we were always together with friends. More than ten beings in our group, including children.
Why are these photos so important to me?
Images of youth spent idly, busy with life I didn't realize when it was no more. Most of all I miss the moments I spent with my son. My son, be a little naughty here but he has excuses. He's had access to our group of friends from a young age and he's had someone to learn from...
I'm showing these photos of me now. I don't usually do this but this picture reflects the moment well and just looking at it reminds me of what is happening to me.
I always wanted to wear my hair big. I wasn't allowed, the communists didn't allow that in Romania. This picture has an explanation.
All day I was working on the construction (rebuilding my house) and my head was full of cement dust. Friends came and took us by car to the sea. I didn't have time to wash. As soon as we got to the sea (by car it took 3 hours), I took my first bath in the sea. The sand and cement in my hair, mixed with the seawater, made me stay like that as if it had been sprayed with hairspray.
Suggests a breakup.
We've come to the last photo. This one impressed me the most. I can't remember what happened or who took it. It suggests a breakup, an upset or a misunderstanding. I don't remember at all.
Over 40 years have passed since then and no break-up has happened... I've forgotten about that.
Now this photo seems to be looking for me, it was the first one I saw when I opened the box. I'm beginning to understand its significance differently.
A parting is inevitably coming.
Sooner or later (preferably!).
This is life!
My strongest memories are of the sea. That is why these memories and their meaning will be the most I will share in this community. I may have also posted about Vama Veche. I am too lazy to look back. I hope they are not considered recycled posts because I write without remembering what I wrote before and, except for the photos, nothing is the same.
