I’ll Take a Zup

After having resisted the desire to show off my English, I gave in to the temptation when the flight attendant wheeled the drinks cart by.

“What would you like to drink?” she asked.

I looked at the cart briefly, clueless, but I thought I saw one I could pronounce. “I would like a Zup, please.”

She tilted her head, and asked with a frown, “Excuse me?”

“I would like a … Zup,” I repeated louder this time, emphasizing my pronunciation.

She shook her head, puzzled, “I’m sorry.”

I pointed to the cluster of green cans.

“Oh, yes! You would like a 7Up,” she said, hiding a smile.

I felt myself turn purple from the humiliation. She handed me a can. “Thank you,” I managed.

“You are welcome.”

I knew there would be many more such embarrassing moments on an arduous road paved with enigmatic English spellings and intriguing pronunciations, peculiar expressions and linguistic oddities.

I leaned back and remembered the trips to the Black Sea, sitting behind Tati and wishing he drove faster. If only the pilot flew faster!

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Live Free

In my mind rang the hushed words that people in the Occident lived free.

Our government had rendered ordinary citizens entirely dependent, as though undeserving beggars, whose livelihood and well-being hung on the whims of mighty officials who had it made and whose purpose in life was to exercise power to gain more power over people.

Why didn’t the government  let people who wanted to go away to live free go, if that’s what they wanted? If they wanted to leave Romania to live elsewhere, why shoot them or torture them instead of letting them leave to the Free West – especially since officials shouted how bad the western world is?

And I didn’t know about the God the government declared didn’t exist, but I felt in my heart there had to be much more to life than the ticking of the clock.

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I am My Father’s Daughter

I couldn’t feel any wind. I couldn’t feel anything but sheer joy at having Tati all to myself. What a thrill to walk out until the water reached my shoulders. Tati had taught me to swim the summer before and an entire year had passed without another chance to swim. I kicked with my legs, flailed my arms, and took plenty of water up my nose.

“Make gentle, rounded strokes. Keep your fingers together.”

“I’m drowning!”

“Oh, Dana, how are you drowning? I have my hand under your tummy.”

“I’m tired.”

“Of course you are. Control your arms and breathe normally.”

“Let me stop now.”

He let me down.

“Let’s jump waves, Tati.”

We returned to shallower water, trying to catch the waves as they broke, and readied to push ourselves off the sea floor in sync.

“There’s a big wave heading our way.” He squeezed my hand. “Hold on tight!”

I tightened my grip and held my breath as the wave lifted me off the sea floor. One wave after another approached with only seconds in between to catch my breath. Nothing felt better than jumping waves holding Tati’s hand. I was oblivious of everything else, captivated in an exhilarating spell of the Black Sea.

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Dissident…or Dreamer?

“I wasn’t supposed to be on this train. According to communist rules, I shouldn’t have a passport or be attempting to leave the country–not while Mama and Lulu, my ten-year-old sister, were outside Romania. They had left two weeks earlier on a thirty-day visa to West Germany. If at any time before the train crossed the border an official matched our last names, I would be yanked off and locked up in a mental facility as a dissident.”

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“He stood motionless, unsmiling, as the train picked up speed and the distance between us grew. The second I lost sight of him an intense loneliness crushed me. I had set out on an irreversible course towards my destiny.”

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