I am Europe

I want to be born in a place of light, to be immediately taken into the arms of people who know how to care for me, and then for my mother to take me home after two or three days.

I like that I'm going to have my own bed, clean sheets and toys, that it will be cozy, that my parents will gaze at me lovingly, thousands of times, as if looking at some enchanted being.

I'm glad that I'll be attending kindergarten with kids my age, where we'll learn art, poetry and dance. It’s good to know that every time, every single time, mother, father or someone dear to me, maybe my grandmother or grandfather, will come dress me up, put on my shoes, take my hand and lead me home at the end of the day.

I'm curious to know what school will be like. I'm already afraid of the homework I’m going to do every day; but I know that I'm going to have friends, the very best of friends, and that we'll go together on field trips, attend parties, and that, even if I shed a few tears during the difficult times, those years will be the most care-free of my entire life.

I know I have to work in order to live a civilized life, that I'm going start at the bottom-up, that I won't make a lot of money, at first, and that I'm going to pay rent, until I can afford my own house –and that might happen when I find the person next to whom I'm going to live the rest of my days.

It's comforting to know that during those days, when I’m building the future, I’ll experience many small pleasures: the best books ever written, the most remarkable films ever made, coffee sipped in the sunlight, on terraces, beach vacations during summer, and unending snow tracks in the winter.

And I know that whenever I don’t feel well, help arrives in minutes. If I miss somebody, they’ll be on the phone in seconds, and if I dream of places far and wide, my mind’s the only obstacle to my destination.

If I knock, the door will open.

If I have guests, we'll cook something nice, drink wine and they will offer to do the dishes.

When I'm invited somewhere, I’m going to wear elegant clothes and use cologne, and I'll buy flowers and chocolate.

If I believe in God, I will pray alongside others like me.

And if I don’t, nobody will force me to.

And, because my town and my country have gone through everything, because we have killed and have been killed, conquered others and were conquered back, spoken languages we’ve hated and whispered the language we loved under the blankets, we have been imprisoned and liberated, died and then came back to life, for all these things, my firm resolve is to raise my children free, in good health, and in peace.

And if you won't let me be, if you keep coming after me, again and again, trying to take away my place of light, the opportunity to grow up happy, the ability to work for my little pleasures, and if you won't let me love and grow old the way I choose, whether in stormy or fair weather, conventionally or unconventionally, then I will remember how I conquered you before, and ruled over you, and forced you to wash your hands and feet, and to respect your women and children.

I will impose my laws again, and again, so that you never forget that

I am Europe,

Je suis l'Europe,

Soy Europa,

Ich bin Europa,

Eu sunt Europa.

The Return of Iuliu Maniu
Iuliu Maniu's family have tried to locate his remains on three occasions and were left defeated just as many times. His family members have tried to relocate his remains on three occasions and were left defeated just as many times. Alongside of the philosopher Mircea Vulcanescu, the Greek-Catholic bishop Ioan Sociu and the Orthodox monk Daniil Sandu Tudor, Iuliu Maniu counts as one of the great missing figures of the communist penitentiary system. Maniu counts as one of the great missing figures of the communist penitentiary system since he died in a prison in Sighet in 1953 and was buried God knows where, without a cross or a tombstone.
The Life of the Haholi
Oana Ivan, a 36-year-old anthropologist from the city of Cluj-Napoca, followed the Haholi in the village of St. Gheorghe, by the Danube Delta, for seven years. Her goal was to create a documentary about the lives of this ethnic minority (descendants of the Cossacks) that are almost unknown to the rest of the country.