Romania - Hunedoara - Corvin Castle

Romania gives you a sour taste, exactly when you expect things to go perfect, there is something that bothers you, at least that is my impression. Let me explain!

My husband is in love with castles and for him it is a real pleasure to visit them all, to examine the defence mechanisms, the differences between castles from the same area, so it was a pity that he visited all or most of the castles form our area, but he did not visit one of the most iconic Romanian castles, the Corvin Castle in Hunedoara.

So on our recent trip to Romania we made it our point to camp a night or two in the area. From what I've gathered, Hunedoara is an old industrial town, with not a lot of things to do or visit, but with some major monuments. It is strategically placed between Timișoara and all the Transylvanian towns liked by tourists.

On itself the Corvin Castle is a masterpiece, too bad that people from the area are not aware what they have in their own back garden and decided to surround the monument with industrial buildings and B&B's.

Still, tourists come from all over the world and mostly from Romania to visit the castle. The atmosphere in the garden of the castle is beautiful, the castle on itself is worth a detailed visit, but the town is a disaster. So my advice to you is to skip the town, visit the castle, and get out.

To prove that everything is connected, the castle was given to Iancu de Hunedoara's father by Sigismund of Luxembourg king of Hungary, merely a title and not a connection with the House of Luxembourg, it still has a relevance for us. Built in a Gothic-Renascence style, the Crovin Castle is one of the largest castles in Europe.

Of course, when you visit the castle, they make a connection with Dracula and Bram Stoker, because Vlad Țepeș was imprisoned within the castle for 7 years, but rest asured none of the castles in Transylvania is Dracula's Castle, except maybe a recently build B&B with this name on a mountain crossing in the region.

For me the visit was bittersweet as I've mention at the beginning. Dogs are not allowed within the court of the castle, and I was told that with such a fury and disgust and I felt so little that I refused to even visit the whole thing. My husband went inside and was impressed and even said it has something from Vianden in it.

The visit takes about an hour, you tour the castle and the towers and the inside gardens. It costs 30 RON which is about 5-6 euros.

Here are some pictures:

I hope you loved reading this post as much as I loved putting it together! Also, if you fancy keeping in contact with me, drop a line at Dichisuri.ro on Facebook.

Raluca

Povestea unei cămăși românești

Dragilor,

știți cum e zicerea aia cu ”ai grijă ce îți dorești”? Practic dacă pui o dorință acolo în lume, cumva, cândva se va îndeplini.

Acum mai bine de trei luni, am avut ocazia să fotografiez în detaliu cămășile din Expoziția IA Aidoma și deși în toată expoziția eu nu am preferate, știți probabil că eu cred că iile au ceva magic. Ei și nu știu cum se făcea că ia principesei, ia Elisabetei Rizea și ia de banat stăteau cel mai bine pe manechinul meu și dădeau cel mai bine în poză. Au mai fost unele care la fel s-au lăsat fotografiate rapid, cămăși cusute responsabil și nu fușerite, și alea mi-au plăcut, dar astea trei cumva ieșeau din normal. Astea trei, în cazul în care nu ați văzut expoziția (de ce oare?), sunt cusute cu negru pe pânză albă.

Și în timp ce le fotografiam și asudam sub lumini am zis eu așa într-o doară că tare ar fi fain să am o cămașă cu negru.

Acum nițică informație, corectă sau nu..., e corectă în capul meu. Cromatica, cămășilor românești (poate vedeți că încerc să ocolesc termenul de ie, vă povestesc la un moment dat de ce) era una destul de fixă. Copiii purtau cămăși cusute cu rosu, îi apărau de deochi și de alte rele, că erau băieți sau fete, chiar nu conta, prostia cu roz și bleu a apărut foarte recent. Tinerele purtau cămăși colorate, între anume limite impuse de zonă, dar colorate. Miresele (are sens să vă zic că țăranii aveau trei tipuri de cămăși? de lucru, de sărbătoare și de ceremonie) purtau totdeauna roșu, aprins sau mai vișiniu tot în funcție de regiune. La femeile măritate roșul devenea din ce în ce mai închis în funcție de vârstă până ajungea la negru la femeile bătrâne. Cămașa cu alb era de morți și se purta doar cu o singură ocazie. Așadar miresele purtau rosu, bătrânele negru și morții alb.

Acum că purtăm cămășile cu blugi chiar nu mai contează cromatica, părerea mea. Și deși cumva, conștient sau nu, am fugit de negru și m-au atras cele colorate (este evident greșit să vă cumpărați o cămașă după culoare, să se asorteze la ceva, cămașa e pionul principal dintr-o ținută), acum chiar nu am nici o problemă cu o cămașă cu negru.

Și cum băteam eu netul ăsta, Facebook în înțelepciunea lui știe cam ce postări îmi plac și îmi arată doar din alea, practic feedul meu e plin de cămăși. Cum spuneam, cum băteam eu netul într-o zi văd o cămașă cu negru la un vânzător de la care nu mai cumpărasem. Am întrebat de preț și cred că întrebarea mea zace nerăspunsă și acum. După ceva vreme postez eu pe Instagram o poză cu o cămașă și vânzătorul comentează. Aha deci, era mai activ pe Instagram. Caut postarea cu cămașa și întreb de preț. Nici un răspuns. Între timp Instagram în înțelepciunea lui îmi aduce mai aproape postările vânzătorului. După câteva cămăși îmi iau inima-n dinți și trimit mesaj. Cămașa se dăduse :(

Aia e acum, nu a fost să fie. Însă universul are grijă să ai ce îți dorești, vă amintiți? Doamna care cumpărase cămașa o returnează (că suntem cetățeni europeni și avem drepturi) pentru că ii era prea mare. Vânzătorul mă contactează. Fac plata și aștept. Și aștept. Și aștept. Banii au intrat a doua zi, belgienii deși de obicei leneși au mișcat repede plata. Cu poșta română mai greu. Tot întrebam poștașul, tot accesa sistemul și nimic. Cămașa mea era dispărută.

Intru la tot felul de idei, că doar sunt și eu pe grupurile de colecționari și citesc și eu despre tot felul de țepe zilnic. Caut vânzătorul, avea rating bun. Îi scriu, nu răspunde vreo trei zile. Raluco ți-ai luat țeapă.

Când deja mă obișnuisem cu gândul, răspunde vânzătorul cu numărul trimiterii, probabil era în concediu. Caut în sistem, nimic. Caut pe posta română, cică o expediase. Venea pe jos, oare?

Luni, buimacă și cu o cafea chioară în mână mă prăvăleam pe scări. Sună poștașul. Uitasem că am codul să îl rog să caute în sistem. Luna lătra, eu o linișteam, poștașul suna, vacarmul clasic când e cineva la ușa noastră. Deschid și îmi dă o cutie bătută rău, ziceai că au jucat unii fotbal cu ea prin depozitele poștei române. O deschid cu grijă și în cutie era ea, cămașa mea cu negru. Mă credeți că e perfectă?

Are toate registrele corecte, e cusută îngrijit și bibilită, a fost purtată și spălată și iubită și a ajuns unde trebuie. Am probat-o, îmi vine ca și cum ar fi fost cusută pentru mine. Până și la gât pot închide cu șnuruleț și nu mă strânge. De unde deduc că nu toate țărăncile erau niște firave sau poate cu bătrânețea...

Vânzătorul a fost unul de încredere (Alexiile pe rețelele sociale), dar cămașa asta nu e orice cămașă, normal că trebuia să am emoții și să mă chinui să o am. De atunci am luat-o cu mine în concediu, am purtat-o prin castele, pe plajă, prin pădure, practic mi se pare că pot să o port peste tot.

Ideea e că am cămașă cu negru și niște poze pe măsură:

 Sper că v-a plăcut să citiți această postare măcar atât de mult cât m-a încântat pe mine să o scriu! Dacă vreți să urmăriți activitatea acestui blog, apreciați pagina Dichisuri.ro pe Facebook.

Raluca

Belgium - Marché aux Puces in Arlon

Already a month has passed since I've been to this flea market in Arlon, but the post about it waited silently its turn on my blog and I'm publishing it now since this weekend there is another flea market (Marché aux Puces) in this small Belgian town on the border with Luxembourg.

Basically, in all the first Sundays from March to November, the town centre of Arlon is closed for this market where you can find all you might think from vintage to new stuff.

I'm usually not interested in flea markets as I rarely buy this sort of stuff, but it is interesting to browse through what they are selling as the objects are windows to past times and history and one can make a good idea about how life was in those times.

I am though on the hunt for a vintage embroidered with beads red bag, which I never found, but I do believe it is waiting for me somewhere.

Picnic tea set 

Embroidered glasses holster

I hope you loved reading this post as much as I loved putting it together! Also, if you fancy keeping in contact with me, drop a line at Dichisuri.ro on Facebook.

Raluca

Romania - Sibiu, IA Aievea Exhibition

It took me so long to write about the exhibition in Sibiu which I've visited at the end of June, because I had to filter all the information and somehow enjoy it by myself before I'll start sharing it with you.

I was selfish, I know, but imagine you are passionate about something and you touch the pinnacle of that field. Don't you need a couple of days to digest it all?

That for me was IA Aievea exhibition in Sibiu. There were a couple of magical days in which I got to know all or most of the people I silently stock over social media, people passionate about the Romanian Blouses, people promoting Romanian arts and artisans.

If you are new here, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about, so let me quickly explain. In Romania we have a traditional, old, authentic, folk, costume and part of that costume is the Romanian Blouse. A piece of clothing which is more than just a piece of clothing, it's an armour, an apotropaic shield, a language on its own, a heritage, that we recently rediscovered and which we thought it was lost.

You see, Romania had to endure communism for more time than I care to count, and during that time we all had to be the same, we all had to dress the same, think the same, act in the same way and mostly do whatever we were told to do. There wasn't a time in which the uniqueness of the Romanian national costume could flourish, it had to be destroyed, our identity had to be destroyed, burned, buried, hidden. Our costume was turned into a joke, the same costume for all the regions, the same symbols for men and women, the same colours, so we all look the same.

It took us more than 20 years since the communism supposedly left Romania to find what was ours all along. It was a giant effort and it's still a giant work to relearn what they wanted us to forget. One person that lead the fight was an architect from Romania and her name is Ioana Corduneanu. I remember reading her blog with a pen and paper, absorbing all she was willing to give over the Internet. She went from village to village, even to the parts of Europe which are no longer ours and rediscovered the Romanian costume, the particularities depending on the region, how it was connected to the costumes of our neighbours, the way in which it was made, reading old written books, deciphering the symbols and eventually I think it was in 2012 she gathered some like minded women and started recreating the blouses (Semne Cusute in Actiune over Facebook). The first exhibition was an amazing thing, they were relearning old techniques, people were relearning how to make their own cloth, how to naturally taint their own threads. Now looking back, the blouses were simple and somehow childish, but I have an standard from which to look back to.

Then a few years later, came the second exhibition. Now the level was the superlative. The women from Ioana Corduneanu's group (Semne Cusute) recreated blouses from ethnographic museums all over the world, bringing them home. They weren't just copying the old blouses, as there was nothing to be copied, they were deciphering photos published by museums over the Internet and imagining the whole blouse. I had the honour to bring that exhibition in Luxembourg and it is called IA Aidoma.

Then, came IA Aievea, when no one thought there was something more to be done. But there is always progress, they were recreating new blouses based on little pieces of cloth from old blouses. Imagine making a whole blouse from just a square centimetre of embroidered cloth. The work behind, the documentation, the years of learning, of trial and error. That's what I saw in Sibiu.

Of course now you can very simply start your own blouse, because now you have the means to do it. Now you have the cloth, the threads and most importantly the knowledge. There were bumps along the way, progress was never easy, but days like the ones spent in Sibiu are worth all the struggles, all the fights, all the back stabbing, all bad mouthing as we Romanians are capable of inflicting one another.

We have a saying in Romanian, "câinii latră, caravana trece" (the dogs bark, but the caravan passes) which translated means almost nothing, but for us means that when progressing towards something, there meant to be some bumps along the way, don't mind them, just keep walking.

And IA Aievea is progress. I honestly don't know what the next step is going to be, but knowing the Romanian women be sure that in two years I will be mesmerised by another exhibition.

So, if you happen to pass by Sibiu please do check this exhibition. It is in the Astra Museum in the Little Square, it is opened until October, but please go there with an open heart! And if you are passionate about Romanian traditions and particularly the Romanian blouse, stick around. I will write articles from time to time about it.

Raluca

Belgium - Mural and graffiti in Arlon

Is graffiti a form of contemporary art? If not, it should be.

If done right, it can be edgy, it can be political, it can be colourful, it can look nice and it can be thought provoking, so I do consider graffiti a form of contemporary art.

On the other hand, there are murals. Although I have not researched this article, I did go on Wikipedia and found out that murals are not a form of graffiti as I previously thought, but an art on their own. The old cave paintings are murals, the painted ceilings and walls of old houses are murals, but I do think they are connected somehow.

In my mind, if the graffiti is the underground of this art form, the hidden sight, the artists are mostly unknown (check out Banksy), the murals, on the other hand, are in plain sight usually commissioned by local authorities or private businesses.

We live in a time when art gets out of museums and galleries, and can manifest itself in multinational companies offices, in public markets, in coffee shops, so even if you don't agree with me I will consider graffiti a form of art, rough around the edges, made in secret, form of art.

In Arlon, there is an artist, the creator of the mouse (or I'll assume it is a mouse). One of them resides on my street and the other one I've found in the city centre. One is nice, the other one is angry, but both are lovely. I've spotted the third one from my car one day, but I forgot where. So similar to the dog-pig of Bucharest, the mouse of Arlon is part of our multicultural community and I do hope is here to stay.

In any case it brings a large smile on my face every time I see it on my way to the train station.

The second mouse declares that he loves Arlon (6700 is the postal code of Arlon) or this is the way I translate this graffiti. He is a little bit angry, not knowing if indeed he loves this town, but at least he says he loves it. I feel I have the same relationship with this area, everything is good, I love my garden and my house, I enjoy what I do, I've made friends, English is used more and more, but deep down if I go soul searching, I know this is not my forever home. He is ... or maybe I should not say where he is, hidden art and all. He is in plain sight, though.

The mural, because I only know of one public mural in Arlon, is in Parc Gaspar, close to the museum with the same name and it's the one with a blue stag. The people in Arlon have something with this stag. I know Gaspar sculpted it and it's displayed in a square in Arlon, they dress it and party around it in Maitrank period, but I don't know the story of Arlon's stag. Maybe is the animal symbol of this town, don't know.

The mural was painted in 2017 and I imagine this is his forever home. I like to take pictures with it from time to time, I find it mysterious, hidden in the trees, and hard to photograph.

Who thought that Arlon could be so artsy?

I hope you loved reading this post as much as I loved putting it together! Also, if you fancy keeping in contact with me, drop a line at Dichisuri.ro on Facebook.

Raluca