Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

Washing Away the Blues

As everyone knows – or maybe not, but it hardly matters – I was let go from the company where I’d worked for twenty-five years. The news came right before I was set to leave for vacation, which did nothing but bury my morale even deeper, a disposition already collapsed after Cosmin’s passing.

As is always the case when life hits me hard, I strategically retreated to the Motherland. My friends, as always, were there to pick up the scattered fragments of my self-possession. I was a complete wreck: there were periods when I’d talk, and others when I’d fall into long silences, letting my thoughts drown me.

If you had the patience to watch my short film with me in the leading role, you can probably guess (and it’s absolutely true) that cold water helps with depression and chases away dark thoughts (the background noise is the wind and, after editing the video, it took away the wind and some of my words – bye, bye wisdom). Actually, it first drives away the thoughts through the sheer shock of the cold and, amidst the onslaught of profanities, you forget about the depression.

The term “cold water” has different meanings for each of us: to Mișu, it seemed just right for a swim, which is why he actually got in – and he thought the weather was perfect and warm, while to me it also seemed perfect, but chilly: I was bundled up in thick clothes and shivering a bit. As for getting in the water myself, I just watched others having fun…

The reason for us being like this is so simple I won’t even bother to explain it. It has something to do with latitude, geographical position… come on, I’ve already given you three-quarters of the answer.

And to finish (I hope) with the depressions, sadness, and anxieties (for this Bulgarian trip), I found on my phone another short video (also made by me) which, for me, is emblematic. Note: a few days passed between the first film and the second. I’m not telling these stories in any sort of chronological order but, rather, in some random order of importance, gathering them as they come to mind, which is exactly how I function in total chaos while, at the same time, radiating the impression of being perfectly organized.

Sometimes, the smallest things remind me of other, more disheartening things, and I get so sad and depressed that I feel like running for the hills and moving into a cave; but, at the best of times, they can completely shift the fragile thread of my thoughts, effortlessly extracting me from some bottomless pit.

It’s surprising how little you need sometimes: two frames, a sound, a certain light, a croc washed up by the waves, and suddenly you’re not in the cave anymore, you’re outside in the cold air that reminds you that you’re still here, and maybe, just maybe, you deserve a life.

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(Next – Chapter 4)