Days of the Ancestors and Obor Market


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February 6th 2011
Published: February 6th 2011
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Late June 2007 Days of the Ancestors and Obor Market

My journey back to the UK started on Sunday evening so I had a couple of days to spare in Bucharest. One evening I went to the Athenaeum, Bucharest’s most revered concert hall. It seats only 800 people and is a beautiful little palace with slender marble columns and sweeping stairways. I was greeting with much warmth by my friends there. I however, felt tired and stressed and unable to fit back into my old life again so easily.

One of the features of Romanian life is that traditions are still very strong. Something known as a Ziua Moşilor (roughly translated “day of the ancestors”) occurs periodically throughout the year. The one just before Easter is characterized by people bringing willow branches to church. That weekend in late June another one was being celebrated, and for this members of the congregation come bearing the branches of fruiting trees. These days are also marked by great fairs being held which strongly feature traditional pottery. There you can find a plethora or bowls about the size we would use for cereal in the morning. These are bought, filled with good things and given to neighbours. The bowls themselves are very beautiful. They are all handmade and decorated either with flowers or with pictures of animals or the coloured glazes are simply swirled around the surface. They are sold very cheaply. It’s true they chip very easily but, then again, it’s always a pleasure to have to go back to buy more.

My flat in Bucharest is just up the road from one of the most famous Bucharest markets – Piaţa Obor. Obor is a mass of stalls. Those in the more open air part of the market sell mainly fruit and vegetables but you can buy almost anything you might want there - from a horse harness to a bulb of garlic. The place teems with life. Some people refuse to shop at Obor because they say there are too many gypsies, but without the gypsies who would there be to bring nettle tops, wild mushrooms, rosehips and all the other items they forage for in the surrounding hills and mountains? What can compare with the sight of a traditional gypsy woman in an ankle length pleated skirt, her braids of hair intertwined with red ribbons hanging from beneath her headscarf? She swings through the market inviting offers for the cakes she carefully carries. There are also many peasants selling their produce - a panoply of seasonal fruit and vegetables, wonderful honey with an intense deep flavour, home made wines and spirits. Further on, in the pretzel bakery, one group of bakers roll out large pretzels whilst another loads them on long planks into an open oven. From there they are tossed into the basket ready to be sold. Multiple orders are tied together with a bit of brown string. The heat pulses up towards your hand from their shiny sides as you dangle the string from a middle finger.

That Sunday I started off with a walk round some of the local churches. Although they are all Romanian Orthodox each services was very different. In one I heard music from a very beautiful choir. In another the congregational singing is a great flood tide. In yet a third the church is so tiny only a fraction of the congregation can fit in. Most were sitting or kneeling in the surrounding monastery garden under the shade of trees. I walked on further and found a church encircled by ancient and celebrated mulberry trees. Everywhere people were bearing branches of fruit trees.

Later I wandered through Obor Market and finally prepared to take the night train to Budapest and back towards Western Europe. That journey up the Prahova Valley is one of the great classic train rides with the enormous mountains of Bucegi and Baiul soaring away on either hand, hung with dark woods and crowned with rocky peaks and the occasional flash of snow still hanging on even in summer. I thought very particularly of Katy and John as in the fading light we passed Buşteni – the station they set out from on that last fatal adventure.

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