Gorod


Next to the building where I work there are a few old houses, most of them built before 1900 and more or less ruined. Some were deserted and then occupied by homeless people, other were enough lucky to be rented by companies which, in some cases, have managed to refurbish them.
However, this is not an area considered by the city bureaucrats as a top priority when they make plans about restoring the historical centre - or at least it don't seem to be a priority, though it's very close to the area that I wrote about last summer. There are investors who want to buy the houses an then demolish them and build something else, and inheritors who want back the houses so as to sell them later (I'm talking about the inheritors of people who lost these houses because of Communist nationalizations).
In the meantime, the whole area is decaying. I walk along these buildings fearing either that one of them will collapse next to me, or that another one will dissapear overnight and an office building will appear instead. Most of the current owners are either very old, or casual residents unwilling to take care of the houses.

There are smart, educated people who adore photowalking and who blog their photos of the historical centre. Many search for that chic, "vintage" atmosphere they've learned about from books and films, and they're so dissappointed of what they see. Some try to avoid the most ruined buildings and the garbage between them and choose only a few nice corners. Some don't have this patience and simply start to complain that the city is unbearably ugly and isn't worth living in anymore. Let's demolish everything and build something healthy instead! How to attract tourists and investors when the centre looks like this? Oh, such things can only happen in Romania! Let's get out of here! 

When I'm at work, I see through the window two old buildings. The one from the left is empty, nobody lives here anymore and the space is for rent; there's an open window and the wind moves it gently, as if wanting to allow someone from the inside to breathe. In the other house there's a small company office and next to it lives an old couple; when it was cold and snowing, I saw the man getting out on the balcony to feed the pigeons. Pigeons that used to have a rest on the ornaments above the windows. And sometimes the sun reaches those ornaments and time ceases to move, as if there'd be no difference between the present day and any other sunny day, 50 or 100 years ago.
I can't say how much I love my ugly city.