Vivid Diary April 2005

Diary
Eugen Babau-Iladi

April 2005

Things have changed since the twentieth century wen I last lived here. Some aspects have progressed which others are sadly the same. That must be partly Basescu's influence,, for it was he who, as mayor, so decisively proceeded t clean up Bucharest and put in some sembalence of order. Finally the city seems to be coming into its own, trying to claim a foothold among European capitals, albeit with that unmistakable Balkan flavour, more reminiscent of Athens than of Prague. Fortunately though, something that remains consistent is that one can still have a lot of fun here.

Coming from a post-modern, law abiding Western environment, where everything is set and the rules are clear for everyone, I can see how many people can find aspects of life here attractive. There is a refreshingly overt disdain for rules and authority that permeates life and shapes attitudes, allowing one to feel unrestrained and truly free. The other side of the coin is valid too: that same attitude is the cause for many a headache when dealing with officialdom or with services. I wouldn’t wish the United States on Romania, although Romanians sure could learn a thing or two when it comes to a service culture.

While I might be what some might call a ‘repat’, Bucharest was never really home, despite my having worked and lived in the city on several occasions throughout the 1990s. What I called home was Timisoara, which now by contrast seems small and provincial, uninteresting, dusty and sleepy. Yet it had a distinctive claim to fame, and, best of all, an attitude.

But it’s all a blur, because this is how Timisoara feels today – then, however, it was the most cosmopolitan place, the centre of gravity and life. I’m only saying this to emphasise the changes that have taken place, both in reality and in my mind. Bucharest has obviously progressed at a more rapid pace than Timisoara. Yet there is an undeniable cultural difference between the two cities, and anyone who has spent time on the other side of the Carpathians can identify those differences. And while Bucharest has certainly advanced, it lacks that edge, the quality of life and joie de vivre that would make it a truly enviable place to live.

After a two-year stint in Prague and being back in the States for a while, my wife Angelique and I returned to the region to explore a couple of lifestyle business ideas. One sunny day last July we came to Bucharest to visit some friends and after an uncanny series of circumstances ended up discussing an opportunity with a local corporation. With its offshore registration but local stock exchange listing, ran by Romanians and a few remaining expat managers, owned by Romanians, Texans and Austrians, this was an interesting hybrid. A dynamic, fast-moving, melting pot, ready-to-grab-opportunities, take-calculated-risks kind of outfit, a seducing local maverick: Rompetrol.

Whenever I filled my tank with cheap gasoline back in California I never really paid attention to whether it came from Chevron, Texaco, BP, Mobil, or whatever. Gas was gas, a commodity we all needed, like we need tap water or electricity, and I couldn’t care less about the corporate entity behind the pumps: price and location were all that mattered, since quality was a given.
I had known a few things about the company, the most obvious ones, and although I had been driving throuth Romania for a matter of mere weeks, I had already noticed Rompetrol’s alluring, bright, flower logo, which some might say has a psychedelic quality to it reminiscent of an acid trip flashback. Hence the allure, and the quality it has of lingering in the mind. I have to admit that I liked the flower even before I got to know the folks there. Straight shooting, no nonsense, and above all, awfully smart, is how the principals of the company came across to me during the interviews we scheduled and got on with just as swiftly.

When a couple of weeks later the phone rang (unexpectedly, while taking my morning shower in Ljubljana) it was a job offer from Rompetrol. To which I said yes, tentatively, got in my car and drove back to Bucharest to talk details and decide the next steps. Knowing the erratic business environment, the shortcomings of the local media and the strong personalities involved, in the back of my mind I had some reservations. But with very little coaxing I accepted the offer and got down to work.

Hence my return was more accurately to Rompetrol than to Bucharest, you see: I had no great love for the city, but Rompetrol seemed to personify all that was moving in the right direction in this country. Inspiring, struggling and succeeding where others have not, advancing fast and closing more gaps that it opened while forging ahead. One important change around here is that the inferiority complex Romanians have had when squaring up to the outside world, is on the wane. Locals are regaining a sense of pride in what they do, boosting their self-confidence and becoming aware of their value. And this company is particularly well plugged into that current.

Lending my expertise and energy to building probably the most ambitious and prominent corporate project of post-transitional Romania is a source of empowerment and gives me a sense of mission and fulfillment. A sense I had in the early 1990s while bringing my contribution to building a free media and civil society with the Soros Foundation. I never imagined myself as an oilman selling flowers and dreams that smell of gasoline. At times I feel a bit like a captain of a ship in the East India Company fleet going through treacherous waters for the good of the company and the promise of personal gain (well, everyone is entitled to fantasise occasionally, right?)

Some months into this project, its potential is nowhere near finalised. However, there is life and reasoning beyond Rompetrol, and this is what makes me hopeful for Romania. I feel the next two years are crucial for the growth and wellbeing of this country and its people. The mood of the city is definitely dynamic and forward looking, especially now that it has emerged from a relatively mild winter and in the aftermath of a national political shakeup. Change is afoot – more investments are being sized up, new places are opening, the financial markets are moving (if not always upwards), and a new impetus for life and success seems to be marking many things around us. Speaking of new places, try the exquisitely done Grand Café Galleron, where the attention to detail is flawless, the fixtures are all Romanian made, and the foamy lattes and decaf infusion teas are a nice touch.

How fitting then that amid bizarre media situations, blurred lines between advertising and editorial, spectacular resignations, topsy-turvy political outcomes, and an air of change pervading everything, Angelique, who is Jamaican-born, has returned from hibernation in Florida bringing along a trunk full of Caribbean spices. A salutary contribution since we spice lovers know how difficult is to find any real, well cooked, authentic spiciness on the local dining scene.

What I find stifling about Bucharest is its lack of cultural and social diversity. Sometimes the city can be anything but worldly. Pockets it has, just as illusory as its glitz and glamour, but overall it is a place with one dominant culture that has not been permeated much by the outside world. On the surface, examples to the contrary abound for those of us who want to make ourselves feel better living here, but the naked truth is those examples are fleeting at best, or unusual circumstantial instances in most cases.

So perhaps I can cajole Angelique into starting a Caribbean-nights gig somewhere in Bucharest, along the lines of the Caribbean catering service that she operated while living in Prague. Hmm, now that’s a mouth-watering thought. Throw in a few Mojitos and Pina Coladas, add some badass dancehall reggae or hot Cuban salsa, get a few happy, smiley brown faces, and I can almost feel the heat of the summer already soothing my skin. Romanians say cu o floare nu se face primavera (eng: one flower does not bring spring) but between Rompetrol (now, that’s a BIG mofo flower) and Caribbean partying there may be enough flowers to bring more colour to Bucharest and some of the diversity that is missing. If you made it so far, enjoy the summer and if you live or visit here hopefully you’ll do at least two things once you get over this mental dump: buy gas from Rompetrol and use it to go on the lookout for a spicy party. Have fun!

Eugen Babau-Iladi is the communications director at Rompetrol.