Transylvanian horseman

Clearing up

We have been clearing up, in more ways than one. The yard, of course, has needed cleaning. It always does, with so many horses circulating.

I have also been getting the passports for the horses. Those outside Europe may not know that, in the EU, each horse needs a "passport". This carries information such as the microship number, name and appearance of the horse, and vaccination details.

Until now, horses in Romania merely have been issued with identity cards which record the six-monthly tests for equine anemia and vaccinations against anthrax. These vary from county to county. As our local vet (who has himself only just come face to face with a computer and clearly dislikes the experience) remarked, some counties made a real hash of the identity cards. In neighbouring Suceava county, the identity card records the age of the horse, rather than the date of birth, without recording the date when the card itself was issued. My stallion Doru came from Suceava county and has just such an identity card, moreover filled in with such scrawl that I wonder whether a drunk or a delinquent child completed it.

Needless to say, getting equine passports is not simple. Two of my horses don't even have identity cards. I allowed the local vet to abuse in absentia the person who sold one horse to me without papers before dropping the punchline that the vendor is another state vet. Anyway, for 15 lei (5 euro), I can get new papers for each horse. There is also a 15 lei tax on selling a horse, even to one's neighbour. I read in a newspaper that Romania has (if I recall) 387 different taxes. The Ministry of Finance protested that there were "only" 295 (or some such number) or taxes. Living here, it feels like more than 387.

I wonder what border vets in the West would make of these Romanian papers? The passports don't necessarily include markings, just a word to describe the colour as brown, roan or whatever. (Although cat and dog passports have room for a photo.) I hope that Western microchip scanners can read Romanian microchips. There is a rumour that the Romanian equine microchips were imported by the Chief Veterinarian (who had awarded himself a monopoly) at considerable personal profit without checking whether they met EU standards. Apparently they don't. In most countries, this would be an urban myth. Out here, it might just be true.

Lies, damned lies, and statistics

In Romania, if one's car is damaged even slightly, one needs to visit the nearest police station and make an accident report. Without this report, one cannot get one's car repaired, or claim on one's insurance. Moreover, if stopped later by the police, one risks prosecution without this accident report.

The village policeman has just told me something very interesting.

One of my neighbours had reversed carelessly and dented his car. When he went to the police station to obtain an accident report, he explained what had happened.....reversed carelessly, dented his car, nobody hurt or put at risk, etc. As the policeman said, that automatically made him guilty of a minor road traffic offence for which he must be fined and given a couple of points on his license.

The village policeman is not over-fond of prosecuting his neighbours. So, he suggested, we'll write on the form that "a horse cart hit your car". That way, the policeman doesn't have to charge anyone, and no-one gets fined. If the policeman wrote that "another car did the damage in a hit and run incident", he'd need to justify why the other motorist wasn't caught, and would have an unsolved case blighting his record.

I was told that attributing minor dents to cars to fictitious anonymous horse carts is common practice within the rural police force. It's a regular dodge.

I can begin to see why the statistics claim that "10% of reported accidents involve horse carts". Now we are seeing the consequences emerge.

Horse carts banned in Romania - we need your help

Please take the time to read this post. The subject is very important, at least to ten million rural dwellers here in Romania. Ordinarily I am not a political person. However, on this occasion, I am asking for your help in lobbying. You will find out what you can do at the bottom.

The new law that I describe criminalises the activities shown in every picture in this section. Yes, every one, they are all taken on designated "national highways". Now, please read on.....

Driving from our tiny mountain village to the town of Bistrita recently, Danielle and I stopped several times to take photos of villages travelling by horse cart. We felt it important to capture these traditional Romanian images because they won’t be here forever.

Certainly not if the Romanian government continues on its present course. Between new laws that make crucial aspects of the traditional Romanian lifestyle difficult to sustain, and overly strict — often downright ridiculous — interpretations of EU regulations, this government seems dedicated to destroying its country’s rich traditions.

One does not have to travel far outside of any Romanian city to see that most of the population still makes their living off of the land, through farming and forestry, using horses and occasionally oxen or water buffalo for both draught power and transportation. Most of these people continue to use traditional methods of agriculture by choice AND necessity; modern equipment is not only impractical for the small plots of land and rough, often mountainous terrain, it is prohibitively expensive. So are petrol and diesel fuel. A million draught horses still work in Romania, a nation the same size as the UK (but with one third of the population). In American terms, Romania is as large as Pennsylvania and Ohio combined, with a similar overall population as the two states together.

Yet in its race to modernize, the Romanian government has decided that tradition, and those millions who cling to it, are expendable. One of the most damaging laws recently enacted (Article 71 of the Highway Code) forbids horse-drawn vehicles from travelling on "national highways". These are the regular roads between towns, not Interstates, Motorways or Autobahns, and run through one village after another. Often they are the roads used by farmers to access their fields, to get to market, to reach nearby woodland. It is a law that persecutes the majority of Romania’s population, an ill-conceived law more in character with former Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu than with modern Europe. Apparently the urban bureaucrats in Bucharest failed to consider that in many areas of the country the main road connecting the local towns and villages is the ONLY road available, and therefore, was designated as a national highway during the Communist era. They failed to see that, beyond the congested environs of Bucharest, many "national highways" are relatively quiet and safe for animal-drawn traffic to use. Some "national highways" are not even surfaced with asphalt or concrete.

The Romanian government claims that "10% of road accidents are caused by horse carts." We should rephrase that: "10% of accidents involve horse carts." Most of these accidents are caused by car drivers travelling too fast, driving carelessly, or driving under the influence of alcohol. However the law-makers are motorists, and prefer to blame peasant farmers who have no voice in law-making. The law-makers ignore the fact that making rural life more difficult will not only increase unemployment, it will rob Romania of one of its greatest assets: tradition.

There is more. Banning horse carts from highways is another step towards eliminating what is unique and attractive to tourists. Romania’s potential as the next great travel destination is being squandered, and the Romanian people will once again be the ones who suffer for the ill-conceived actions of their government.

Unfortunately there is evidence that the Romanian police are using Article 71 of the Highway Code to persecute the Roma minority. Television news coverage has shown police officers harassing Roma and confiscating their horses. Not only is this a glaring example of institutional racism, the Romanian police force does not have the capability to care for confiscated horses, which may have gone on to suffer neglect or maltreatment as a result, or simply sold to inhumane slaughterhouses.

The Romanian Highway Code must be reviewed. We call on the Romanian Ministry of Transport to examine "best practice" from established EU member states such as Germany and Britain, and from Amish areas of the US. Horse-drawn vehicles must be allowed to travel on all highways except for those few where the risks are excessively high, applying suitable safety measures such as lights and reflectors where appropriate. A national survey is required to establish, according to intelligent criteria and using experienced Western consultants, the few places where motor traffic simply is too dense for horse-drawn vehicles to travel safely. Every other road must be available to horse-drawn traffic.

We call on the Romanian government to cease persecuting people who use horses. Instead, the Romanian government should take positive steps for equitable safety: funding comprehensive road safety awareness programmes, strictly enforcing speed limits and other motor vehicle regulations, and where necessary investing in dedicated tracks for horse-drawn vehicles parallel to national highways. The government should promote rural life, for productive small farms offer Romania’s best chance for a healthy, sustainable future.

Please copy this as a link to your friends. Please also include it as a link from your blog, so that it is seen by as many people as possible.

Please write to the President of Romania, Mr Traian Basescu, at the following address. He is a fluent English speaker.

Palatul Cotroceni,
Strada Geniului nr. 1-3
Sector 5 - Bucuresti - Romania,
Cod postal 060116

Please copy your letter to the nearest Romanian Embassy, addressed to the Romanian Ambassador. The Embassies in the US and the UK have the following addresses.

1607 23rd Street, NW
Washington, D.C. 20008
USA

4 Palace Green
London, W8 4QD
UK

Thank you for your support. With your help, we may be able to force a review of this pernicious new law and allow peasant farmers to continue to use their horse carts legally.

Managing cold weather and paperwork

Yesterday we faced a 160km (100 mile) round trip with the jeep and horse trailer. However, it wasn't horses that we were transporting. Instead we brought back a trailer full of rolls of mineral wool. This week we are adding another 30cm (12") of insulation in the loft. The house didn't seem over-warm during the cold weather, and an inspection showed that the builders had installed minimal roof insulation. Certainly not enough for -15C. Our American constructor friend, Samuel, is putting that right.

The Orthodox holiday for Saint John the Baptist having passed, we have a steady run of work days ahead. So we are preparing to go logging. Cornel went on foot with a forester, who allocated several trees. Tomorrow, Cornel and Nelu will go out with the chainsaw, fell the trees, and cut them into small pieces. Vasile and Oprea will go out with two horses and a cart, to begin bringing the timber back. There is the best part of a week's work out there.

I was hoping to photograph tomorrow, however I have been summoned to town in the morning. Four of my pure-bred mares have been authorised for state subsidy, three Hutuls and an Arabian. One of these (a three year-old) was inspected for the first time, and accepted as a pure-breed Hutul. (For those who know the horses, Arabella, Negruta, Tarpan and the youngster Stella.) I need to sign the papers for these four at the county veterinary headquarters. It's odd how, in such a slow-moving country, the bureaucracy suddenly deems something "urgent". Still, this subsidy is a minor benefit of EU membership, and I am grateful for it.

Whilst Samuel was working in the roof, I serviced the horse trailer. I'd noticed that the lights had been blinking, so I added some blobs of solder to improve the connections between the lamps and the brass terminals that they contact. It's irritating that the manufacturer used cheap fittings on an otherwise good trailer. However, repairing new items so that they work correctly is a familiar task to anyone who buys Romanian-made equipment. It's not that I enjoy finding fault, only that a little more effort could make such a difference in this generally very interesting, rewarding country.

Meanwhile, those who know the centre and its staff will wish to congratulate Vasile for passing his driving test at the first attempt. We were surprised, since the new written test is quite difficult (something like 90% fail at the first attempt, including the policeman from a neighhouring village), however we shall not be churlish and are very pleased for Vasile.

Heritage.....and heritage

Years ago, an East German friend and I planned a new business, tours of the communist "heritage". Our proposed name was Trabant Reisen. We might not have been entirely serious, however others have prospered in this new niche. There are tours around the Park of Communist Sculptures in Budapest. Walking amongst multiple Lenins is a surreal experience if there ever was one. Various former Eastern Bloc cities have tours that take in the old secret police headquarters and suchlike. Given the lives terminated and blighted by those evil regimes, this new line in tourism does seem rather voyeuristic. Still, it does good in maintaining a spotlight on the dark and absurd deeds of those regimes.

The first photo isn't actually from the communist era, as private accommodation was banned back then. It's an early post-communist attempt to "promote" rural tourism. Hard beds, spartan food, harsh serving women: truly, a character-building way to spend a holiday!

So far as I know, there are no kitsch communist tours in Romania. (Parliament might be a good starting point for one. It contains plenty of relics from the bad old days.) There are several tragic museums, including the once-notorious Sighet Prison. However, maybe the time has come for a more accessible, even amusing view? A look focussed on communist mentality and attitudes rather than hardware and buildings. The starting point in Bistrita might be the ex-communist Romanian Commercial Bank. Although privatised, its management maintain the narrow party doctrine that the proletariat should be grateful for every mercy, however small and grudgingly yielded. When I confronted their director today over a mistake, I was told that, no, the bank was not responsible for its mistakes. No, I could not expect their computers to show accurate information. However, I should be grateful that this dinosoar of finance existed to take my money. And keep it in a shoebox in the basement, I expect. I have just transfered my accounts to the new private Piraeus bank, an establishment that understands what the word customer means. What a relief.

Deborah wrote to me regarding a simple harness for her old gelding to use to haul a sled of manure from the barn. Here is another view of a simple breastcollar for ploughing. It's not a great shot, however the position of the breastcollar on the horse is clear. A second shot shows a horse pulling timber, in fact dragging a beech log around the back of our guesthouse. This breastcollar has a leather reinforcing strip around the outside of the canvas. Unlike a good leather harness, which can last for many decades if looked after well, these canvas collars last maybe five years or so. A look at the angle of draught shows that there is tension on both the upper and lower parts of the breastcollar, so the horse is pulling not only with his chest but (to some degree) with the top of his neck. Looking at a number of photos, I'd estimate that around three-quarters of the load goes via the chest. Hence the whole breastcollar is made from a wide, fairly fexible canvas. (However, I would be very interested to see some measurements. This might make a fascinating project for some enterprising engineering or technology students.)

I could not resist including the last photo, showing a sheepdog at Ciocanesti accompanying the shepherd's horn. The two big dogs at that sheepfold are great characters, friendly to people, even sidling up at mealtimes to cast that mournful feed-me eye on the vulnerable. Yet, I am sure, quite dangerous to wolves and bears. Two dogs will drive off a bear by the simple tactic of one going in front of the bear and the other behind. The bear doesn't appreciate having a large, snarling, aggressive creature behind. One cannot blame the bear. But if he turns to face one dog, the other will be behind. So he goes off, in a kind of bear-huff I suppose.

Transylvania - folklore and reality

Most people associate Transylvania with Dracula. Thanks to an Irish writer who never visited, my tours are linked to a fictional Count with a strange look to his incisors, a palid skin, and no reflection in the mirror. Luckily, he is good for trade. This country was dealt a far worse blow by another writer who scribbled in the Reading Room of the British Library - Karl Marx.

Delving into Romanian folklore, one finds traces of two distinct types of Vampire, the Strigoi and the Moroi. The distinction, apparently, is that the former is alive (and can be discerned by such means as observing who refuses to eat garlic), whilst the latter is dead (or, rather, undead). Werewolves come in two forms too, the Varcolaci (which can appear in other forms than the merely canine) and the Pricolici (who appears only in wolf-like form). What with these creatures, and the Maidens of the Forest who (rather predictably) lead handsome young shepherds away never to be seen, superstitious medieval villagers had plenty to scare them. As well as invading Tatars, plagues and pestilances. If their rye bread was a bit mouldy too, dusted with naturally-ocurring halucinogenic ergot fungus, they could have gone on a very bad trip.

Back to reality, it's time for the wearisome annual renegotiation of liability insurance. Such are the laws of commerce in a market plagued (in Romania, anyway) by insufficient competition that, after another intentionally safe year with no claims, the premiums have gone up again. In many ways, though, we are fortunate. A disclaimer or waiver statement signed by a rider is completely valid in Romanian law, greatly reducing the risk of my getting sued. Even so, insurance represents around 10% of my fixed operating costs. Of course I have no choice but to pass this onto riders, each of whom pays me around 50 euro ($75) for the privilege of being insured whist riding. That's in addition to travel accident and medical insurance which each rider buys before travelling, which adds as much as another 100 euro ($150) per person. Yes, thanks in particular to the modern Anglo-Saxon propensity to sue, aided and abetted by insurers' greed and the inflated costs of medical care, your riding holiday willl cost at least 150 euro ($225) extra. And that's a moderate extra cost, compared to countries such as Britain where the law attaches little importance to waivers and disclaimers, making insurance even pricier.

No wonder the world of myth is so attractive. Tedious realities don't apply. The Hobbits didn't have tax returns to worry about, Van Helsing wasn't sued for breaking the great rose window, and Dracula needed neither paperwork for his castle nor reflective triangles on his carriage. Still, I do wonder: if Vampires had no reflection, how did the Count brush his hair? Probably like me on a bad morning (or evening, in his case), with his fingers in lieu of a comb whilst striding out in a big hurry.

Strange Thursday

I've returned from a windswept day's riding, five hours during which a snowstorm swept over us (this in April) followed by a glorious bask in bright sunshine (with an expansive view over snowy peaks). Now I get to hear the news. These are bizarre times in Romania. The final acts of the fall of communism are being acted out, even after the country's accession into the European Union. Parliament has suspended the President, though he was elected democratically and has broken no law. Televised scenes of Parliament were disgraceful, showing so-called representatives of the people engaged in ignorant, pathetic name-calling. Dismayed, people in Bucuresti have left work and taken to the streets. Now, Parliament has declared the demonstrations "illegal" and is trying to break them up. This is the Parliament led by a Prime Minister famously described as "disregarding the wishes of the population like the totalitarian dictator of a banana republic." That seems to sum him up rather well. One can only hope that the people triumph - and finish the job that they started in December 1989, removing the communists whose continuing presence is a festering sore in this country.

This may seem strange to people living in Western democracies. However, I sincerely hope that some people in the West will encourage their leaders to support the true democrats in Romania and stand firm against the machinations of the communist old guard. These surviving aparatchiks are real people, not some shadowy "threat". They form a tangible axis of evil, tangible enough for Western leaders to meet them and speak to them, a clique bent on turning a nation's resources to their own enrichment. Evil is often banal, indeed banal enough to have dispatched secret policemen to photograph my yard (why would a foreigner live in a remote village without being up to something more than tourism?) and tap my phone. We've all been touched here, and we must all take one side or the other.

To be cheerful, and to inject something positive into this post, I've added another photo of our newest arrival, who I think I might name Luke. Unless, of course, I receive a better suggestion. Here are Luciana and Luke outside their field shelter, in the early evening sun. Luke has such lovely colouring, with a big white blaze and a white snip on his forehead. He has large, solemn, calm eyes too, and that must be a good sign.

The latest pointless tax

Being attentive to the small print in Romanian new bulletins, I have just read that everyone who sells home-grown produce will be obliged to pay a new tax. That includes guesthouses that serve food grown in their own gardens. As if the supermarkets haven't already got it enough their own way, here is a new tax designed to hit the small peasant farmer who grows and sells quality natural produce.

The tax is packaged as an “inspection fee” by the “Directia Sanitara Veterinara”. This is what an inspection comprises. Our village vet stops and leans his bicycle against our fence. He hands me a bill for up to 200 euros. A few weeks later, he stops by a second time, and hands me a certificate that he has signed and rubber stamped. It needs another signature and rubber stamp next year too, when another fee (which will most probably have risen by more than the level of inflation) will be payable. Being a busy man with plenty of people to invoice, he may not actually set foot on my premises, unless he accepts my offer of a cup of coffee in the kitchen. All this for nearly 200 euro.

This year I was also asked to pay the annual church tax. It is voluntary, and costs around 15 euro. For this, I receive a coloured Orthodox calendar that shows all the saints' days in red (which is useful for seeing when I need not expect my staff to do more than the basic minimum of work). Whether or not I pay, there is a free service every Sunday, the priest will take confessions on request, and he will come and bless the house and stables (which usually happens just after New Year). Unlike the vet, the priest actually enters the premises to deliver a personal blessing (employing authentic holy water), and all this for less than a tenth of the price of the new “veterinary inspection”.

So we can thank the EU, and their bureaucratic minions in Bucuresti, for taking an interest in taking our money and offering no real benefit in return. At least the priest still cares about our real welfare - and offers far better value for money too.

Food aid

This morning I passed by our community's town hall, down in the centre of the village between the church, police station and shop. In the newly brick-paved yard, people were standing around looking at a large stack of large cardboard boxes. I stopped and spoke to the town the clerk, who told me that the boxes contained aid from Austria. Then he told me that I should take one, after all everyone else is getting a box. I said that I'd give it to my neighbours, because they have children. But I was told that all the children will receive similar parcels in school. Given the size and weight of the boxes, the smaller children might struggle home.

I took my box home and opened it, finding soap, cocoa, vitamin pills, crayons, colouring books, and a variety of packaged foodstuffs. (I'd hoped for coffee, of course. Whisky would be a bit much to hope for.) It's quite a big box, around 40 x 40 x 40cm. I'll pass it on to my neighbours anyway, their children will appreciate the goodies. They aren't poor, very few people in the village are poor, and everything in the box is available in the village shop.

I wonder what is behind all of this? Just what were the donors told? Who did they think would be the recipient? Who are the organisers, and why did they choose my village? Were these Christmas boxes that were delayed? It amazes me that, in 2007, with Romania in the EU, food parcels are still being handed out. Moreover, handed out unquestioningly in relatively well off villages where poverty simply is not a problem.

Do the donors think that we are poor? Are they trying to help us, or to make us like them? (Which, taken to the extreme, would mean making us complacent, increasing obesity levels, and giving us big cars to drive.) There was no note in the box, no attempt to prosyletise, so that isn't the motive. The mayor is too canny to disburse the donors of their ideas, after all his popularity is boosted by handouts, and anyway why look a gift horse in the mouth?

How much did the donors pay to whatever charity sent the boxes? 5 Euro for transport? 10 Euro? If it costs one or two thousand Euro to send a truck, and a thousand boxes fit inside the truck (that would be about right for a large curtain-sided truck), then someone has made some money. (Assuming that Austrian charities behave like some British charities that come to mind, raking money in with their "shoebox appeals. We've seen those shoeboxes in the village too. I have to say it: the Austrians are far more generous in the quality of the food that they donated. Good quality cocoa. Milka chocolate. Not bad at all.)

So there we are. In the eyes of Austrians, Romania is still a "poor country" whose inhabitants "need" food parcels. As a tour operator, I bring visitors to see a “poor country” where "much needed" (a silly and over-used term) so-called aid is distributed willy-nilly. Maybe it is just another ploy by Austria to persuade “poor” Romanians to stay at home rather than heading westward in search of work? A bribe of food to stay at home. If so, it has failed.

Bread for the new European Proletariat

This autumn the village bakery closed. Not for want of clients, as it was the only bakery serving four thousand inhabitants. Not because of bad bread, since its products were excellent. Nor because of poor service, for it was open long hours and the staff were ever cheerful. No, it closed because of new European Union regulations. Despite being well managed and producing good, hygienic products liked by its customers (none of whom ever got sick because of bakery products), it did not meet new regulations, and it was too expensive to make the necessary investment.

So now we wait until ten or later in the morning for dry bread to arrive tardily by van from a distant town. On Saturdays and Sundays, there are no deliveries at all. For the first time since the fall of communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, we witness a pathetic sight: the proleteriat queuing for a late delivery of inferior bread.

Again, the European Union has defeated the free market. Instead of encouraging enterprise, it has put hard-working people out of business. Indeed, it has handed their livelihood - an important element of local commerce – to a faceless outsider who vends inferior goods.

So it is back to the old-fashioned bread oven in the garden. Until the EU bans that too.