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A creative pair

Mr Andi and Mrs Niculina believe bribery is simply a fact of life. In his short text Romanian author Dan Lungu sketches a small typology of corruption.

Herr Andi is a living legend, at least in our neighbourhood. He is an inveterate bar room philosopher. One of his favourite topics is the Romanian people: their weaknesses, but above all their strengths. "Really the Romanian is a creative type, mate!” he likes to say emphatically. If something doesn't work he repairs it with a bang of his fist. If a machine is broken he gets it working again with a bit of wire. And he solves his problems with bribes.

High-rise in Sighişoara.

Photo: Matthias Häber

According to Mr Andi (it's best to address him as "mate,” "hey you” or "bud”), corruption is proof of the Romanians' resourcefulness, it's what keeps the system running. Like Vaseline for a screw. If corruption disappeared from Romania overnight, Mr Andi believes, there would be such confusion that the country would most probably disappear from the map.
Of course Mr Andi exaggerates. He's fully aware of how well scenarios of doom go with beer and roasted sunflower seeds.

While the campaign "Don't pay bribes!” was in full swing, he stared at the poster for a long time and then said laconically: "That's right, that's how it is. You don't pay bribes, you collect them!”

Like he says, Romanians are creative people.

If I were God, or at least the owner of a marriage agency, I would marry Mr Andi to, let's say, Mrs Niculina. One afternoon a modestly dressed woman was waiting for me when I arrived at my office at the university. I don't know how long she'd been waiting, we hadn't made an appointment. We went in, she perched herself timidly on a chair and told me how shy her daughter, a student of mine, is, above all during exams. Creative as she was, she pushed an envelope over to me across the desk. I pushed it politely back, whereupon she creatively asked me if my flat didn't need a good paint job, her brother was a gifted house painter. Feigning an urgent meeting, I stood up. She was too old for me to simply throw her out of the room. As I shut the door she held out a bottle of vodka saying "Here, a little something.” I quickened my pace but she kept hard on my heels with her bottle.

"I'm doing this because I love my child," she cried behind me in the corridor, "not like the others!”

I was practically running and couldn't help thinking she would be a perfect match for Mr Andi, who would no doubt blow the whistle on me for threatening national security with my defensive attitude.

I just managed to save myself by jumping on a tram.

Dan Lungu

Dan Lungu, born in Botosani in 1969, lives today in Iasi in northeast Romania. He writes novels, poems and plays, and lectures in sociology at ...
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