A wonderful day at Bellu

Dear Everyone,

What a wonderful day! Despite the 34°, Lucia and I were under the shadey trees at Bellu cemetry for the whole afternoon. Five hours of pure bliss, wandering between the memorials, mausoleums, crypts and tombs of the great names of Roumanian history: Cantacuzino, Rosetti, Florescu, Ghica, Filitti and Slatineanu, not to mention writers, doctors, chemists, actors, musicians, composers, diplomats and literary critics of great reknown along with a new generation of VIP's.

Bellu cemetry exists, mostly thanks to Baron Barbu Bellu, who decided to donate his large garden to the city back in 1852. His next-door neighbours, the monks of the Vacaresti Monastery agreed to follow suit and voilà, Bucharest had a new place to bury its defunct. The architect Alexandru Orescu finished the plan of the chapel in 1853 which took the place of the original 'Bellu The Old church'. C.A Rosetti was the first person to buy a plot there in order to lay his daughter, Elena, to rest. He was followed in 1860 by writer Cezar Bolliac after the death of his wife. Ruined in 1890, the cemetry chapel was rebuilt by the city mayor of the time, Emil Pache Protopopescu. Today, this unique cemetry, vaguely comparable to Père Lachaise in Paris but with far more atmosphere, is the National Parthenon of Roumania. It should be included in all school curriculums and added to every single tour guide as a whole chapter and not just a paragraph. What we find at Belu is a backdrop to Roumanian culture and understanding its people. It's vital for historical and cultural learning. if you've never been and you live here in Bucharest, for heavens sake, what are you waiting for. And take a picnic - it's huge and you'll be there for the day!

Lucia is a history hound. By her side, I discovered new friends from the past, new stories, new tragedies, new reasons to love this country yet more still and further hate the regime that decapitated Roumanian culture as it used to be. I heard about George Macovescu, diplomat and mathematician; Margareta Metaxa, founder of the Romanian State Opera; Laurentiu Ulici, President of the Writers' Union who died very uselessly and stupidly from carbon monoxide poisoning; Nicolae Labis, young poet who was killed in a tram accident; Liviu Rebreanu, writer and director of the National Theatre; Mihai Ralea, literary critic, writer and also diplomat, his daughter Catinca (TV producer) who succumbed to cancer and her husband Emanoil Petrut; Ion Vasilescu (composer) who studied piano with George's grandmother (another Lucia Grossu) - reknowned concert pianist of the era... I felt like I was at a social club rubbing shoulders with the best of them.

Nicole's guided tour was a marvellous help. We found our dear lady with the umbrella almost at once (Katalina Boschott) - she is as lovely as her pictures (see pic top left), and to learn that an inscription once existed on the granite wall behind her that read 'Cet animal de médicin m'a tué' - she died following a surgical procedure - made me want to hug her. I met Cosbuc, Caragiale, Filimon (novelist), Fintesteanu (actor), Constantin Gane (writer), V. Lascar (politician), Marin Preda (novelist), Mihai Sadoveanu (writer) and Nichita Stanescu (writer and poet) to name but a few. The list is endless.

The highlight, for me, at least, was finding what was left of the Hasdeu family memorial. The mausoleum, having been repeatedly vandalised to see if any 'spiritual' hocus-pocus would take place, no longer exists. However, the memorial is quite lovely. One can feel Iulia's presence very much indeed. Her books are there, a clock shows 1h30, the time of her passing. A jug of flowers gives the feminine touch, and globe on the top of the memorial represents her life. I didn't see it before the destruction of the mausoleum, and what I found touched me very deeply. Iulia was a genius and achieved more in her tender 18 years than most people do in a lifetime. I am impatient to visit her memorial museum in Cîmpina and hope it won't be too long before I'm able.

Lucia was delighted to see so many admired old friends. She seemed to know everyone we passed. There were endless anecdotes, and more than once I asked a question and the reply was, 'remember, I told you about....' and in fact, I didn't remember at all, because my hard disc was on overload. So much information. So much desire to remember everything, store it all in some drawer of my filing cabinet that serves as my rather poor memory bank. The thought of forgetting a single thing filled me with panic. I scribbled down as much as possible....and almost forgot my notebook and pen more than once.

Having found the Hasdeu monument, we sat in the alley near the main church, and breathed in the peace and tranquility of such a beautiful place. It's quite true that there are areas untended and neglected. Lucia was horrified by what she called a lack of respect, a negligent spirit by the authorities, a total absence of honour for the intelligentia of the past who gave so much and, for the most part, received pretty little in return, many of them ending up in prison as they wouldn't dance to the communists marches...

I wasn't shocked by the neglected parts, however, except when there was rubbish strewn or a dustbin cart left in front of a family mausoleum, which rather overstepped the mark of respect.

I can't understand people who don't like cemetries. For me, they are celebrations of life, places full of memories and joy. peaceful, calm, quiet and reflective. Why should they be scarey? Why spooky? the dead are at peace, and will never suffer again. It's comforting to know that and be with them for a time. Nicole said that for her it was like a theatre. For me, it was like a social club, going to a 'do' and meeting the most amazing people. We had real difficulty leaving, and only did so because George called to say that he and Picu were coming armed with Italian icecream.

We found a taxi on Serban Voda and were back to the treetop in no time. 30°. Aircon activated, we sat and sipped pineapple juice, waiting for George and Picu. An evening together, us three, the two dogs, eating icecream, looking at today's pix, watching the Spain/Italy match (ciao Italia and bravo Spain) and then a quick park visit for doggie requirements.

It's been a marvellous day and wish that every day could be the same. I'm so thrilled that Lucia forewent her usual Sunday afternoon nap to come with me. Such a memory, such knowledge. I rest in admiration.

Tomorrow back to work...a busy week due to the usual timetable. Nothing planned til Friday with a visit to Gaby's mum and the return of Mihai for the summer holidays. Not only has he a 'mention très bien' but he's also been awarded the Prix Adolphe Neumann de la ville de Genève for his musicianship and talent. George and Lucia are so proud and when I think about little Mihai, no longer little and so brilliant, I could cry. He deserves such a great career, such a promising future...and he will have it.

And that's my news for the moment. So to bed...I'm pooped.

Love to you all and keep in touch

Love, Sarah xox   

Comments

[doina]

wanderful walk, Sara.Thanks