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It was my first memory of a plane. I was five, and we were going to see my grandmothe. I missed her terribly, since she had been gone for three years. I was so excited, I couldn’t sleep on the plane. (And who could? We didn’t have enough money to fly first-class.) About half an hour before I got there, I nodded off to sleep… and awoke in my grandmother’s flat. It was small – only three rooms, including the kitchen. (Damn communists.) The place was so different from anything in the United States, that I was constantly surprised by everything – how dirty the streets were, the people in carts, and how impossibly tiny the cars were.
Every time I go back there, I still remember the Bucharest of 2000, with the newly introduced “Millenium Bill” that everyone was making such a big fuss about at the time. Now Bucharest has changed. The streets are much cleaner, there are less bums, and Romania’s entered the E.U. But it will always hold the same sentimental value that it did back then.over 6 years ago