The Crossbreed Journalist

Product: Fabricated in Romania. Refined in the UK.   

This is the story of a crossbreed journalist. Distinctive Balkan features in a pairing with a new British behaviour for the last four months and eight days.

On rewind. On my BCH-LND way, I wrote on my phone: “It is the day that separates the past of the future” – read it in some Hesse-ndless book and promised to use it one day.

It was just before I got my “one way” ticket. Before I shared a house and my habits with three strangers and their habits. Mostly habits of unwashed dishes, gravy souce and Sunday roasts on top of morning-Nirvana drum-songs. It was before I Mingled my breaths with other 13 million Breath-outs. It was before London.

22nd of January. The after London and its exhausting “thankyous”, door-holding for ages, obsessions with being rude or offensive, “yalrights” and greedy tube fares. This consuming-lover, blood and time vampire, this shreading life-storm and wish-mill of fools. It’s London, baby, right?

Pause. No rewind. Take a bit of time to listen to the silence. I hear myself thinking: “you’ve carried all this stuff: 29 kilos, woman! The audio kit is killer! You need a bellboy ’cause You smell like a fish pond. Like a… Biban?! Biban… What’s the word for “biban”? “Baib^n?” “Biban” is a fish in Romanian. So, I found myself fishing some Romanian.

Signs of not being in all your Romanian senses:

  • Thinking in English. This is the first sign of Romanian-weakness. Never found out what’s the word for “biban”. Need help!;
  • The next step of’pairing’ with London is when You feel THAT confident that you naturally start adapting words. E.g. Furculition for ‘fourchette’. So, you find yourself saying synapses (surprise: it worked!), stipulated (worked) or “cats” as a swearing (which makes sense in Romanian);
  • You start teaching your colleagues: “poop” (kiss in Romanian), “da” for yes and You convince them that Romanians are “Crazy” – ‘nebu’;
  • You don’t have the patience to wait for the escalators to “move!”. It’s like crawling in slow motion;
  • Your intimate space in the street is reduced to centimetres and feel comfortable; also, your face gets stuck on the Window of the over-crowded tube and it’s almost relaxing;
  • You take a nap in the tube;
  • You have no problem with happily accepting a date at x place which is JUST “only one hour” Away?!
  • You hold the doors for people who are ar least 10 metres Away from You making them sprint;
  • You know more about the health system and politics of the UK than your own country’s;
  • You become obsessed with BBC Weather app;
  • You start watching livestreams of your hometown.

It’s been four months and eight days since my Romanian pedigree made love and war with the London-breed. We shall hope for the ‘one of a kind’ result.

N.B. Hesse was wrong: it’s not the day that separates. It’s the day that unites the past and present for a new future.


4 thoughts on “The Crossbreed Journalist

  1. Oana, this article made me chuckle. I complete understand where you’re coming from. Even though I “speak the same language” as these crazy Brits, I still find myself trying to translate what I’m saying. Becoming the best of both cultures is always a fascinating (and usually quite funny) journey.

    1. And you’re the American of London! Imagine a Romanian.
      Krista, it’s for sure a funny journey and at least our blogs will be our legacy from point A(merican) to point B(ritish). What a story to tell our Grand Grand… Or even better: in shoreditch! 🙂

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