Visul, supapa de siguranţă a setei de transcendere, arta, magia, dansul- iar, pe de altă parte, dragostea şi mistica – mărturisesc din atâtea unghiuri diferite instinctul fundamental şi ursit al firii omeneşti: ieşirea din sine, contopirea cu altul, fuga de singurătatea limitată, avântul către o libertate perfectă în libertatea celuilalt. – Mircea Eliade
“Pentru noi, Eminescu nu e numai cel mai mare poet al nostru si cel mai stralucit geniu pe care l-a zamislit pamantul, apele si cerul romanesc. El este intr-un anumit fel, intruparea insasi a acestui cer si a acestui pamant, cu toate frumusetile, durerile si nadejdile crescute din ele. Noi, cei de aici, rupti de pamant si de neam regasim in el tot ce-am lasat in urma, de la vazduhul muntilor nostri si de la melancolia marii noastre, pana la cerul noptii romanesti si teiul inflorit al copilariilor noastre. Recitindu-l pe Eminescu, ne reintoarcem, ca intr-un dulce somn, la noi acasa. Intreg Universul nostru il avem in aceste zeci de pagini, pe care o mana harnica le-a tiparit si le imparte astazi in cele patru colturi ale lumii peste tot unde ne-a imprastiat pribegia. Pastrati-le bine; este tot ce ne-a ramas neintinat din apele, din cerul si din pamantul nostru romanesc.” – Mircea Eliade
„Așa l-am cunoscut atuncea, așa a rămas până în cele din urmă momente bune: vesel și trist; comunicativ și ursuz; blând și aspru; mulțumindu-se cu nimica și nemulțumit totdeauna de toate; aci de o abstinență de pustnic, aci apoi lacom de plăcerile vieții; fugind de oameni și căutându-i; nepăsător ca un bătrân stoic și iritabil ca o fată nervoasă. Ciudată amestecătură! – fericită pentru artist, nefericită pentru om!” – I.L.Caragiale
„Dacă am plâns când l-au aşezat prietenii şi vrăjmaşii, admiratorii şi invidioşii, n-am plâns de moartea Iui, am plâns de truda vieţii, de cât suferise de această iritabilă natură de la începuturi, de la omenire, de la el însuşi. Acest Eminescu a suferit şi de foame. Da, dar nu s-a încovoiat niciodată: era un om dintr-o bucată, şi nu dintr-una care se găseşte pe toate cărările (…) Eminescu s-a întors în Nirvana – aşa de frumos cântată, atât de mult dorită – pentru dânsul prea târziu, prea devreme pentru noi.” – I.L. Caragiale
“Ţară de secături, ţară minoră, căzută ruşinos la examenul de capacitate în faţa Europei… Aici ne-au adus politicienii ordinari, hoţii improvizaţi astăzi în moralişti, miniştrii care s-au vândut o viaţă întreagă, deputaţii contrabandişti… Nu ne prăbuşim nici de numărul duşmanului, nici de armamentul lui, boala o avem în suflet, e o epidemie înfricoşătoare de meningită morală.” – Octavian Goga, citat în “O istorie sinceră a poporului român” de Florin Constantiniu
“Munti nostri aur poarta,
Noi cersim din poarta-n poarta.”
De-am inchide-a Tarii poarta,
Altii ne-ar cersi la Poarta!
Insa Hotii-s chiar din Tara
Tradatori la cei de-afara!
Doamne Iarta-i! Esti in Drept!
Insa Du-i hat in desert!
Doamne, Da-i la Neam unire
Si Da-i demna carmuire.
Ca-i prea mult blajin si las
Si supus sta la borfasi!
O Neam romanesc din Daci
Nu mai cersi doar pozmaci
Ci Ridica-te crestin
Ca sa scapi de cei Hain!
25th Dec, 2013. Christmas morning, when people all over the world celebrate and enjoy, Pungesti community was questioning the democracy in Romania (EU member and Schengen Area aspiring country) and wondered when they will be listened to by the politicians they previously trusted and voted for (that so aggressively campaigned against such destructive projects before the elections) hoping they will start defending their rights and care for the country’s future rather than for their own pockets.
As soon as I entered the village I understood what was the general feeling during the communist era in Romania. I was greeted by a police road block that checked every person’s id. I felt privileged my driver and I didn’t have to put on the effort of pulling out our id’s from our back pockets. Sure it had something to do with the fact that I have announce my presence a week in advance , and to add to the communist era feeling ,authorities weren’t keen on making a bad impression. Driving around the only paved road of this village where most of the people have long crossed their 60Th birthday, I was impressed with the police forces deployed there to defend the “mighty and generous” Chevron from the fury of a handful of angry senior citizens.
I was touched by the reaction of my driver as we were cruising along. He was a bit surprised by all the commotion around saying that ” he hasn’t seen such a high number of riot police gathered in one place since the 1989 Romanian revolution against the communist regime of Nicolae Ceausescu”. Trying to have short conversations with the villagers , I was shocked at the fear installed in them by the intimidation techniques employed by the authorities. An old man, fetching water from a well down the road, was clearly scared to talk out loud. ” We were beaten and unlawfully fined by the police, we can not walk on the road in groups of more than 2-3 people, they even searched our houses in the middle of the night and threatened us” he whispered leaning in. A shop keeper, recognizing I am not a local and before I could say good morning, was quick on letting me know, upon me entering to buy a coffee, that he has no clue of what is happening in the village, he knows nothing of whom the protesters are or anything else I might be interested to know about the protests.
The people of Pungesti took matters into their own hands and started protesting against the oil giant Chevron and the shale gas fracking project so vehemently promoted by Romanian government. On 2nd Dec , 2013 and after months of protests, the first scuffle took place between protesters and riot police. The Vaslui district prefect ordered a road to be cleared after being blocked by peasants worried about their treasured land and water sources being polluted by the controversial fracking procedure that Chevron will use in their quest for profits from shale gass. On Dec 17th after the bruises (obtained during the previous encounter mainly from pushing and being dragged on the ground by police) healed , people took stand again against the police forces defending the corporation that was allowed to poison their future. This time the scuffle turned into a brawl with grandparents and environmental activists fighting riot police and managing to destroy the fence that surrounded Chevron’s installation. This opened the road for the head of Vaslui District Police (Pungesti village belongs to Vaslui District) to declare Pungesti a zone of “special security for public safety” (it is worth mentioning that the law states that such measure should be taken when on a relatively small area are concentrated illegal elements like extreme violence, drug trafficking, prostitution etc) . Ironically, the inhabitants of the village seemed to be under threat from the huge number of police forces deployed in the area that used threats and fines, arrests and all sort of wired accusations as intimidation methods to deter land owners, farmers and simple peasants from protesting.
Hunger strike is now considered the last resort as people are decided to continue the fight for their rights and freedom, for their land and precious water sources (which they harvest through old fashioned wells scattered around the village) not be polluted by the greed of a handful of corupted politicians (starting with the the district council president Dumitru Buzatu and ending with the Romanian prime minister Victor Ponta). People like Alexandru Popescu ( who took his protest to the capital city of Bucharest and now he is in his 22nd day of hunger strike) and few Pungesti residents have decided to continue their huger strike till their demands for a democratic, free and just Romania are met, Chevron stops their activities and corrupted politicians and policemen guilty of abuses against protesters are brought to justice. They hope that people will once again come together and fight for what they believe in, for a free and democratic Romania and for a healthy future for their children.
În iazul de Valea Şesii, cum îl ştiu localnicii, ajung rezidurile de la cariera de cupru de la Roşia Poieni. Lacul artificial este unul de decantare de vale, deschis, amenajat între doi versanţi. Mai exact are un singur baraj. Ultimele estimări arată că ar avea peste 130 de hectare. Riscul ar fi enorm, dacă nu s-ar putea face ecologizarea apelor din iaz. Şi, asta pentru că barajul este o fabrică naturală de acid sulfuric. Pericolul creşte de fiecare dată când plouă abundent în zonă. Licenţa pentru exploatarea cuprului de la Roşia Poieni aparţine companiei Cupumin Abrud.
Cele mai recente evaluarări ale Ministrului Mediului arată că în zonă ar fi nevoie de investiţii de mediu în valoare de 15 milioane de euro. Autorizaţia integrată de mediu emisă de Agenţia Regională de Protecţie a Mediului Sibiu pentru iazurile de decantare şi haldele de steril rezultate din procesul de extracţie-procesare a expirat la sfârşitul anului 2011. Înainte de Revoluţie, mina de cupru de la Roşia Poieni lucrau 3.000 de salariaţi. Acum, au rămas 200. S-a încercat şi o privatizare a societăţii din Apuseni, în martie 2012, finalizată cu un eşec.
(sursa www.historia.ro )
Pentru Roşia Montană
Este mare tevatură,
Dar de fapt este pomană,
Noi dăm aur, ei cianură…
(epigramă de Gabriela Genţiana Groza)
(fotografii din Arieseni – 56km de Rosia Montana)
“I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’m gone which would not have happened if I had not come.”
― Salman Rushdie
“The mind which is created quick to love, is responsive to everything that is pleasing, soon as by pleasure it is awakened into activity. Your apprehensive faculty draws an impression from a real object, and unfolds it within you, so that it makes the mind turn thereto. And if, being turned, it inclines towards it, that inclination is love; that is nature, which through pleasure is bound anew within you.” – Dante Alighieri
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all
And sweetest in the Gale is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of Me.”
by Emily Dickinson
“People observe the colours of a day only at its beginnings and its ends, but to me it’s quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colours. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them. ”
“The slow arrow of beauty. The most noble kind of beauty is that which does not carry us away suddenly, whose attacks are not violent or intoxicating (this kind easily awakens disgust), but rather the kind of beauty which infiltrates slowly, which we carry along with us almost unnoticed, and meet up with again in dreams; finally, after it has for a long time lain modestly in our heart, it takes complete possession of us, filling our eyes with tears, our hearts with longing. What do we long for when we see beauty? To be beautiful. We think much happiness must be connected with it. But that is an error.”