Under a cloudless sky, a gorgeous spring sun covers the
land, as our Lufhansa plane lands at the Timisoara airport
and comes to a halt between airplanes from Carpatair and Air
Moldova. My colleague, a real Temeswarer, is expecting us at
the airport. He says that the city is experiencing once
again a "spring like in the past", with pleasant
temperatures and frequent rain. The drive into the city is
taking longer than expected because the road is full of
cars, from old Dacias to brand new BMWs. The roads, once
designed for horse carriages, generally have an asphalt
surface, but still have only two lanes.
The city, under bright sunshine, appears familiar and yet
somehow strange, not surprising after an absence of fifty
years. The large pedestrian zone in the centre, from the
opera to the Orthodox Cathedral, is full of people and
pigeons. People do not walk back and forth on the sidewalk
(then known as Korso); many are sitting on the benches in
the gardens, others are enjoying a beer or a coffee in the
many sidewalk cafés and restaurants. The restaurant Lloyd,
once the city's best, is back, and under the name "Timisoreana",
the Palace seems to be back too. Even the café Violeta is
back, serving cakes, desserts, coffee and beer.
The historic square in front of the Roman-Catholic
Cathedral (once called Domplatz, today Piaţa Unirii –
Unification Square) is almost entirely closed to traffic,
with the exception of the road in front of the Serbian
Cathedral, which is filled with parked cars. Similarly full
of cars are the neighboring side streets, with cars parked
on both sides of the street, with some partially on the
pavement. The police seems to accept the situation, because
it public parking lots and garages are not available. An
ongoing church service in the Roman-Catholic Cathedral is in
the Romanian language; the notices at the church entrance
are in Romanian and in Hungarian. The absence of German
appears to be representative of the current composition of
the population. Some of the historical buildings surrounding
the Square, look great in their renewed splendor, while
others, right next door, are still awaiting their renewal.
Downtown, there are money changers at every turn, in
addition to a large number of banks, some with names
well-known in the West (such as Raiffeisen Bank).
Unfortunately, none of the small bureaux de change accepted
my travelers cheques. Fortunately, I had some U.S. Dollars
in cash, which could immediately be changed into Romanian
currency. On Monday we went to a real bank, and after
inspecting my Canadian passport, writing down my Canadian
address, and signing three forms (each in duplicate), I
finally got my Romanian Lei (minus two percent fees).
The Rectorate building of the Technical University
"Politehnica" is in very good condition and the official
part of our meeting takes place here, in a beautiful new
hall. In the afternoon, all participants take a tourist bus
to Rekasch/Recaş, for a festive meal at the winery,
accompanied by several varieties of local wine, some of
which carry the designation "Schwabenwein" (meaning "Swabian
wine") on the bottle. During our tour of the facilities and
wine cellar, the Banat Swabians are recognized as the
founders of the founders of viniculture in Rekasch/Recaş.
On the following day we walk through the Josefstadt,
following the tracks of my high school and university years
spent there. The statue of Maria is covered up; it is being
restored. My first student home, across from the catholic
church of the Josefstadt, was once an imposing upper-class
house. I still remember our room, with its fourteen beds to
accommodate fourteen first-year students. My major head ache
were the bed bugs, as they chose me to bite before my
thirteen colleagues. The community shower never worked, but
we were welcome to use the showers of the dormitory at the
Faculty for Mechanical Engineering, located in far-away
Elizabethstadt.
The once open-air market in the Josefstadt now occupies a
number of halls. Green peppers, tomatoes and cucumbers still
have great taste, but there are no longer any Swabian women
selling them. A group of gypsies with many children sit
around, next to two policemen. We do not ask what is going
on here.
Our next destination is the Northern Railway Station (Gara
de Nord). The new building appears different, since I had
not seen it before. The old building had been at the center
of my daily commute between Temeswar and Alexanderhausen
during my high school years. How many trains did I catch
here, and how many did I miss! Beside the station we look at
an inconspicuous little two-star hotel. In the year 1956 it
housed our student residence and those who lived there will
never forget the 31st of October 1956. On the day
before, a meeting between the students and "representatives
of the party and government" had taken place in the
cafeteria of the Mechanical Engineering Faculty. The latter
eventually lost control of the meeting and left the stage.
The students continued with the meeting, preparing a list of
requests. Soldiers surrounded the building, placed the
students on trucks, and transferred them to the
military barracks at Kleinbetschkerek. In the morning, we
found the lobby of our student residence full of soldiers,
with a machine gun and its ammunition a occupying center
stage. We were told that we were under house arrest and
decided spontaneously to go on a hunger strike. After two
days we were released and our professors resumed their
lectures, but a few students were missing: those that had
spoken up at the meeting mentioned above.
Later we visit the Banater Museum in the Hunyadi Castle.
A few sections are closed for of repairs. The "1919 to 1944"
section is open and it contains some interesting historical
documents. There is even the "Declaration of Alba Iulia"
which lists the rights to be given to national minorities
(such as the Banat Swabians and the Transylvania Saxons). We
see nothing about the implementation of those right in the
years between WWI and WWII.
We drive to the suburban free space once called "Jagdwald",
passing many "gypsy palaces ", as our colleague calls them.
They are conspicuously over-decorated buildings and most of
them seem to be uninhabited. Their owners are allegedly
somewhere in the west, in Italy or Spain, where they somehow
make their money. In the "Jagdwald" we visit the Village
Museum. Among other rural buildings there is a "German
farmhouse. With its brand new gutters, it makes a good
impression, but I miss the "Gang", the little pillared
veranda along one side of the house, which was a feature of
village houses across the lowlands of the Banat.
My colleague from Temeswar surprised us with tickets to a
performance of the operetta "The gypsy baron" at the State
Opera. I remember the hall well from many opera performances
attended during my university years. It is a traditional
hall, small and intimate, and the music of Johann Srauss is
as lovely as always. The dialogue one has been brought up to
date, with many Hungarian expressions, and even Temeswar is
mentioned a few times.
From many discussions with colleagues who spent their
professional lives in Temeswar, I conclude that the history
of the city and of the Banat, receive much more attention
than they did in the past. The consensus seems to be that
the area was under different foreign administrations until
1920, but the Austro-Hungarian double monarchy was not a
prison of the nations. Clearly, the time under Dej and
Ceausescu was much more of a prison then all preceding
administrations. The former peaceful coexistence of the
different nationalities in the Banat is seen rather as an
early example of the Europe of the future.
