I was 5 years old in December 1989. My memory of those days is clustered, filled with flashbacks of my family trying to offer me a “normal” Christmas, while outside terror was taking over the streets. I remember my father coming home saying he met good ol’ Santa Clause and after rummaging through his bag, he pulled out a toy staple gun and a spinner. I looked at them and reluctantly started playing. I knew things were not ok. Over the course of the following days, our house was filled with close relatives coming to live with us, because our side of the city was safer. We would often turn off the lights at night and crouch while gunshot echoes filled the air outside.
Romania was fighting to escape the darkness that reigned for 44 years. Or so we thought. Continue reading “The Country Governed by Thieves”