The country life, the work of the land, living in a household together with the other brothers, each one with their family... all this paled in the face of the socialist model. Work at the factory, city life, the promise of an apartment attracted my grandfather who, having been a little educated, quickly became a chief of staff (a kind of inspector of human resources). He crossed the whole of Moldavia recruiting young people from the countryside who left the rake for the Cement Factory in Medgidia. He quarreled with my great-grandfather who refused to accept the collectivization of land and animals. After a lifetime of work, he managed to gather some land. He gave in when the communists threatened Grandpa with his job and apartment. Gradually, my grandfather brought to Medgidia all his relatives from the countryside, his neighbors, his friends. That’s how it was then. They were pulling one another. Later, they received some land near the factory. And they all made adobe houses, covered with asbestos, with their work and the work of their children. My mother told me that my grandmother had only one dress. She washed it every evening and dressed it in the morning. A life like in the socialist books. Factory, house, meal. Time has passed. We, their grandchildren, appeared. Grandpa stood in all the lines for us. Milk, bread, fabric for our diapers... That’s when he started to walk with a piece of chalk and write on the fences: Down with Ceausescu! - Reluca, tell him that someone can see him, Grandma complained... My grandfather was a communist, until he was no longer!

Ioana Bejan Roata, Brasov