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	<title>paper &#8211; Ziarul Gandacul de Colorado</title>
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	<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com</link>
	<description>Ziarul Romanilor de Pretutindeni</description>
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	<title>paper &#8211; Ziarul Gandacul de Colorado</title>
	<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com</link>
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<site xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">232272730</site>	<item>
		<title>An American’s Stereotype</title>
		<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/an-americans-stereotype/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Redactie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Jun 2009 16:45:05 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Editorial]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/an-americans-stereotype/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I should start by saying that I come from the most American of cities: Detroit. It is here that the American Dream was birthed with Henry Ford&#8217;s assembly line and fair wages. With labor from immigrants and emigrants worldwide, Detroit became a symbol for American ingenuity and prosperity. However, it was also in Detroit that [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img data-recalc-dims="1" decoding="async" class=" alignleft size-full wp-image-5220" style="margin: 5px; float: left;" alt="john" src="https://i0.wp.com/www.gandaculdecolorado.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/john.jpg?resize=69%2C105" width="69" height="105" />I should start by saying that I come from the most American of cities: Detroit.  It is here that the American Dream was birthed with Henry Ford&#8217;s assembly line and fair wages.  With labor from immigrants and emigrants worldwide, Detroit became a symbol for American ingenuity and prosperity.</p>
<p>However, it was also in Detroit that some say the American Dream has died with mismanagement of wealth and the failure of organized labor in securing gains for it&#8217;s workers.  It is certainly true that gatekeepers in Detroit have plotted to keep certain groups from gaining access to the American Dream, most notably African Americans and certain ethnic groups have been vigorously denied entry.  <br />With my background in mind, I should also be forthcoming about the fact that my agenda with this article is to stereotype an immigrant group with which I have had relatively limited contact.  I no longer live in Detroit, but in Estes Park, Colorado.  Estes Park, a beautiful tourist town in the Rocky Mountains, is staffed in it&#8217;s busy season with immigrants from around the world.  Eastern Europeans, Russians, Mexicans, Nepalis, and others come each summer to keep our kitchens, restaurants, bars, and souvenir shops running.  I have known, worked, and been friends with Lucian Oprea; manager, bartender, and Romanian, at the Estes Park Brewery for about eight years.  It is no coincidence that Oprea, whom I shall refer to by his Americanized nickname, Lucky, for the remainder of this article, is also the editor of this paper.<br />So without any further delays, I&#8217;ll move on to my first stereotype.  Romanians are detail-oriented, hard workers.  Perhaps basing this assumption off of my relationship with one Romanian who happens to be the editor of a paper, and by default should be detail oriented, is not fair.  It is fair.  We live in a market that up until recently was dominated by two major newspapers based out of Denver.  One of them recently failed.  This small, independent paper that you are reading now is thriving.  This is due to hard work and innovation on the part of Lucky and his ability to recognize and capitalize on a demand for a Romanian language paper.<br />Furthermore, isn&#8217;t that the very essence of American innovation?  Starting something from scratch and building it into a success is what we claim collectively as being one of our greatest strengths.  However, when I look around at most of my contemporaries, made up of mostly fourth or fifth generation Americans, what I see is a group of people demanding to be rewarded and privileged for simply showing up.  The attitude is, &#8220;I was born, now I demand my place in the middle class.&#8221;  So when I stereotype Romanians as detail-oriented and hard working, I should also add that they are utilizing the American dream in ways that most of us have forgotten how to do.<br />Before the next stereotype, I&#8217;ll add that I have met other Romanians in the course of working with Lucky, I just do not know them as well.  In fact, I recently met Ela, Lucky&#8217;s wife and a new addition to the Estes Park Brewery.  She confirms my suspicion and third or fourth stereotype, I have lost track of how many I have made here, that all Romanian women are beautiful.  It may be pandering, but I will extend that stereotype to all Eastern Europeans and Russians as well.  That is a side note and not substantive or relevant to this article, but hey, this entire article is based on stereotypes.<br />I&#8217;ll finish by saying that when I look at Romanians (we might as well throw in all of Eastern Europe and Russia too), I feel like I am looking at contemporary versions of the immigrants that built this country into the most influential in the world.  The immigrants that I call &#8220;grandmother&#8221; and &#8220;grandfather&#8221; created a culture that is exported around globe and loved by some, despised by others.  When I look at Romanians, it is not an understatement to say that I see the future of this country.  I see future innovators, inventors, thinkers that will change the world.  I see a group of people that are sometimes mistreated, sometimes the victims of xenophobic Americans, but will one day be revered as embodying the spirit of everything that is America.  So what if this entire assumption is based on a collection of stereotypes.  That is wholly American too.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
					
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">494</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>My School Years in Romania (XIV)</title>
		<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xiv/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Redactie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 15 Jun 2003 18:30:49 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Romania]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xiv/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[So, I had to find myself a job and jobs for highschool graduates were not too great. Luckily, my mother knew somebody who had a husband in a high enough place to find me a job as a key-punch operator in a large manufacturing plant. I worked there for almost a year. I had to [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>So, I had to find myself a job and jobs for highschool graduates were not too great. Luckily, my mother knew somebody who had a husband in a high enough place to find me a job as a key-punch operator in a large manufacturing plant. I worked there for almost a year. I had to work shifts and the morning shift would start at 6:30 am. I didn&#8217;t particularly like it. <br /> We had a quota every day. I worked with 5-6 other girls. We did not have a direct supervisor all the time. The other girls chatted, drank coffees, smoked, even took showers in the plant&#8217;s shower rooms. They did not do their work until very late and therefore they had to rush and struggle. In the meantime, I came to work, did my keypunching and then took out a book to read. I mentioned that reading was by favorite pastime. <br /> At the end of the shift, when the supervisor came to check how we were doing, the others were working feverishly and I was reading. It did not appear too good for me. I tried to explain that my work had been done sooner and that&#8217;s why I was relaxing. My explanations fell onto deaf ears. In the end, I had to pick up and help the lazybones finish their work. So I ended up working more than others, without any recognition. That unfairness certainly upset me. <br /> Sometimes, when we worked the afternoon shift, everyone was motivated to finish his or her work soon and then leave. The supervisors or most of them were gone for the day when we finished. So, we felt entitled that since our work was done, we could leave and go home. I, for one, did not believe in sticking around and wasting my time doing nothing. There was nothing else to do if I were done. Our quota for the day was given to us day by day. <br /> One day, when we were just leaving, the big boss, the director of the plant caught us in the act and after reading us the riot act, announced that the following day we would be demoted and our work would be standing up all day at the assembly line. I protested forcefully but I did not convince him that he shouldn&#8217;t do it. I told him that it was common practice to do it and it was unfair for him to do that only to our shift. In the end, I quit. I did not work on the assembly line for a single day. <br /> That convinced me that I should start studying for college again. In the meantime, I had lost a year when I could have applied for college. I studied, but leisurely, not hard, and on my own, without any tutor. I worked as an interpreter for a few international exhibitions and that opened my eyes to what life was like for people beyond the Iron Curtain. <br /> Then, I went to take the exams again. There was no emotion in my heart and soul, no trepidation whatsoever. I didn&#8217;t care one way or the other. I felt that I knew everything, much better than everybody else did. Later on, some friends that I made in college told me that they envied my calmness during those times. This time, I got great scores, even in the oral exams. I even volunteered to answer questions that students before me couldn&#8217;t answer. I had an air of supreme confidence. Naturally, I was among the people admitted. When I had failed, my score had been 7.87. When I got in, my score was 9.06. But later on, before the start of classes, there was a supplementation (for reasons unknown?!? and a few others got in. <br /> In college we had some great professors, some good ones and some that were not too great. We learned a lot about the English language and literature. During the 4 years of college, we learned about English drama, poetry, novels, essays, and about phonetics and phonology, morphology, syntax and a lot of other stuff that I have long forgotten. I remember a class that taught Old English vs. Middle English vs. Modern English. It was rather difficult to remember all forms of words that had evolved so much that they had no resemblance to what they looked or sounded like hundreds of years ago. <br /> There were 2 semesters each year and we had courses and seminars. At the courses, everybody was busy taking notes. There were manuals but most of the time there would be material from the courses, not covered by the manuals on the exams. There were 3-6 exams each semester. They would have written and oral components. On the oral components, you could choose to pick another face down paper with different subjects on it hoping that it would be something that you knew better. That is if you thought you did not know too much on the subjects that you had picked initially. But that lowered your grade a couple of notches from the start. I never did this. One time, I loaned my class notes (one semester worth of notes) to a friend who had not taken good notes. Two days before the exam she told me she had lost my notes. I was hysterical. I managed to do well on that exam though, because I rapidly switched my exam paper for another one. The one I had picked contained material from the class notes, which I no longer had and had not studied. The teacher either did not see me do it or closed her eyes to it. She knew what had happened to my class notes. <br /> Of course, we still had classes of Marxist Philosophy, Scientific Socialism and other similar studies. And we had exams in those. The teachers were very strict and often flunked half of each class. I managed to navigate these courses without incident. <br /> As usual, I was confrontational with the teachers when I felt justified. There was one lady who was supposed to teach us but she herself needed to learn a few things. I, having read a great number of books from the American library, was pretty well versed in the language, even some idiomatic phrases. I remember hotly contradicting her when she marked me down on a test for having used the term &#8220;How come?&#8221; in a translation. She said that phrase did not exist. <br /> I had some confrontations with the dean of the college too. He was also a professor and I took some exams with him. At some point I managed, through heated arguments, to convince him to change my grade into a higher one in an exam. <br /> Classes would be held in the morning or in the afternoon. Space was scarce so we used every little nook and cranny of the old building. We would also have gym classes in another building. <br /> Starting with the 3rd year, we could take some electives. There was one very interesting class dealing with translations of poetry. The professor was an old man, probably the best in the college. We managed to get some amazing translations done under his direction. I also took some class, I don&#8217;t remember what it was on, but the fun thing was that it was taught by a visiting professor from England. <br /> During that time, I had studied and taken an exam and license to become a tour guide-interpreter. So, during vacations, on weekends, in any spare time, I would work for the National Travel Office shepherding groups of English speaking tourists on tours. It was a great opportunity to visit all regions of my own country (quite expensive to do on my own) and be paid for it. At the same time, my English skills were further improved. <br /> I also took an exam to get a translator&#8217;s license. And of course, passed it. </p>
<p>(to be continued)</p>
<p>Simona Georgescu</p>
]]></content:encoded>
					
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">171</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>My School Years in Romania (XIII)</title>
		<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xiii/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Redactie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 May 2003 18:16:48 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Romania]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xiii/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[College Shortly after, I applied for the admittance exam to the English department of the University. It was only one college that you applied for. You could have applied at a few other colleges that offered English but they were in far off towns in Romania and nobody would do that when we lived in [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>College </p>
<p>Shortly after, I applied for the admittance exam to the English department of the University. It was only one college that you applied for. You could have applied at a few other colleges that offered English but they were in far off towns in Romania and nobody would do that when we lived in the capital. Sometimes people living in the provinces would come to the capital to apply for college but not the other way around. <br /> In order to apply, you had to show that you had passed the Baccalaureate exam. Score was not important. You did not have to be good to be admitted to take the exams. The exams were both written and oral. First you took the written exams and then the oral ones. You did not have to write any essays on your application to show that you had a &#8220;well-rounded background&#8221;. It did not cost anything. All you needed to do to take the exams was be a highschool graduate. You could have graduated the last one in highschool and it didn&#8217;t matter. For the boys, the pressure was even more intense because if they didn&#8217;t pass the entrance exam, they would go for mandatory military training for 16 months, usually far away from home, with just a couple of visits back home. Even boys that passed had to go for military training, but only for 9 months. So if they passed the entrance exam in 1973, they did not get to start their college studies until the fall of 1974.<br /> The exam was in summer. A few days in advance, you had to find out what hall you had to take the exam in. Lists were posted at the front of the building. On the day of the exam, you came with your Buletin (your ID) and sat down. You were given some blank papers and told to write your name in the top right corner of the first paper. Then, a proctor would come to check your name on the paper against your name and picture in your ID booklet. Then you had to fold the corner over your name, covering it. The fold would be sealed and stamped by an official. When everybody was ready, the subject to write on the exam would be written on the board. <br /> I had to take exams in English and Romanian. When you went to the University for languages, you had to specify a language which would be your primary subject (like your Major) and a secondary language (like a Minor). In my case, I picked Romanian because my German was not good at all. <br /> I don&#8217;t remember what the subject was in the written exam for Romanian but I do remember that in English it was some kind of comparison between the poets Byron and Shelley. You had to write for about 3-4 hours on the subject. When you got out, you felt totally dizzy. <br /> After the written exams, you took a break for a few days. In the meantime, the results were tabulated and again, posted, for everybody to see. And lists would be drawn with the people who would go on to the oral exams. You would be assigned a room, date and time when you had to show up to take the exam. When you stepped into the room, a few students waiting to take the exam would be already there. On the examiner&#8217;s desk, there would be a few dozen sheets of paper, face down. You had to pick one, as if playing the lottery. That was your exam. On the paper, there would be 2-3 short, very focused subjects that you had to talk about. Then you would be given a few pieces of draft paper and a pencil. You could sit down and prepare what you had to say. You did not have too long. While you took your time to prepare, other students were talking about their subjects. <br /> Although I did very well in the written exams, I did not get the same excellent grades in the oral exams. It seems to me that the examiners were nit-picking and splitting hairs. Although my grades were not bad, they were not great either. What happened, I presume, is that in the oral exams, students that had connections in high places got much more lenient examiners. And thus they got excellent grades in the oral exams.In the end, when all scores were tabulated and a ranking was made, I placed too low to be admitted. We appealed. Every year, the number of students admitted would be different and also the lowest passing grade would differ. It all depended on what grades the students would get. They would be ranked according to the final average score and they would be admitted in the order of their grade. So, one year, one score may have been a passing score, whereas another year, it may have been a failing one. <br /> Anyway, this failure was a terrible, terrible blow for me, especially since all my closest friends had been admitted to various colleges, including some to the English Department. After all, all we were thinking of in highschool was to get into college. That was an objective in itself. We did not care what would happen after college. We did not think of money, fame, glory. We just wanted to get into college. That was the supreme achievement. And not getting in was a terrible, shameful thing. The blow to my pride was unbearable. My grades in highschool, including the final exit exam (baccalaureate) had been higher than most of my friends&#8217;, yet they got into college and I didn&#8217;t. And they were pitying me. They came to visit me as if to offer their condolences. And I couldn&#8217;t stand it. I became more and more despondent and one day took a handful of sleeping pills and drank a good quantity of heavy liquor. Pretty soon I felt very sick and got scared. At that time we were living in my grandfather&#8217;s huge house and had to share bathroom facilities with some tenants. On my way to the bathroom down the hall, I fainted and one tenant who was around, caught me. The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed with my mother sick with worry beside me. <br /> Later on, she told me that when she heard what I did, she went to the University and told me that if something happened to me, she would break all of their windows. Nobody dared say anything because they could see she was overcome with grief and fury. Luckily, I was OK, and resolved never to try anything like that. I also decided that I was too mad to apply for the next examinations (the following year). </p>
<p>(to be continued)</p>
<p>Simona Georgescu</p>
]]></content:encoded>
					
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">161</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>My School Years in Romania (XII)</title>
		<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xii/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Redactie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Apr 2003 18:06:15 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Romania]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-xii/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I was a very good student although I did not study too much. Studying was just something that I had to do, not something that I liked to do. My parents never checked my homework or asked whether I did it or not. It was entirely up to me, my sole responsibility. In highschool, some [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I was a very good student although I did not study too much. Studying was just something that I had to do, not something that I liked to do. My parents never checked my homework or asked whether I did it or not. It was entirely up to me, my sole responsibility. In highschool, some of the homework was rather difficult so my parents wouldn&#8217;t have been able to help me anyway. I had a very strong sense of duty. I always did my school work first thing after coming home and then I was free to do whatever I liked which was reading, movies, shopping with my mother. I was very close to my mother and would go out shopping with her practically every day. Shopping meant mostly shopping for food because that was very scarce, especially after 1964 or so. Finding a nice plump chicken or some ham or hot dogs, smoked fish or anything really, was a great accomplishment which gave us a lot of joy. It was probably similar to the feeling a hunter has when he gets something. Finding a good book to read was also a great accomplishment. Usually, for anything you had to know somebody. My mother was friends with the bookstore salesperson next to her work and also with the grocery clerks nearby. When something good came in, they would generally tell her. <br /> There were no supermarkets so for everything you had to go to a different store. Grocery shopping was very tedious. But everybody managed to get by somehow. At holidays, everybody had a feast. Even if you had to wait in line for something good, maybe even wait in line just in hopes that merchandise would be delivered soon, it was still worth it. If you wanted to eat a little better, then you waited. I remember many times, waiting in line for hours, hoping to buy some bananas or oranges, in the dead of winter, outside of the store, in the back, where the huge lines would not be noticed, freezing, and when you almost made it to the front of the line, they announced you that the store ran out of the thing you had waited for 2-3 hours. Very frustrating is an understatement. But imagine making it just in time to buy the coveted bananas or whatever and to know that the store ran out just after you had bought them! Ahh-hhh, what a feeling of deep joy and accomplishment! Many times food was rationed. You could not buy as much as you wanted. This was applicable to food and non-food items such as toilet paper. Standing a couple of hours in line for 6 rolls of toilet paper and finally getting them did not give you such a great joy as getting a bunch of bananas, but still it was an accomplishment. <br /> Reading was the main pleasure. Good books were hard to get buy and were published in small numbers. Bookstores were full of books with political propaganda that nobody wanted. When something good arrived in the store, long lines would form and in an hour or so, the book would be sold out. Sometimes we went to the movies and saw American and European films that we liked. There were many that were just propaganda that nobody would go to see those. <br /> We got our first TV (second hand) when I was 13. It was, of course, black and white and quite small. And it frequently needed repairs. There were only 2 channels and the programming was just for a few hours, most of it, political. But occasionally we had series such as the Avengers, Untouchables, Bewitched, Flintstones, Time Tunnel, Lost in Space, Dallas. We loved those. Streets would be deserted when our favorite series were on. All in all, we, children did not have the opportunity to waste our time too much on TV. <br /> Before graduating from highschool you had to pass the Baccalaureate exam. That was the highschool exit exam. The exam had both oral and written components. The Real and Human branches had different exams. I did very well in this exam. When all the scores were tabulated, with grades from all 4 years in highschool + the baccalaureate exam, I turned out to be very close to the front of my class. That was the class of &#8217;73. <br /> The teacher with us was our Diriginte (home teacher). She was a teacher of Psychology. We had Psychology classes too. We seem happy because highschool is practically over. <br /> The last day of highschool was very emotional. Everybody went crazy. Each of the classes (A through H) had their own ideas. We, in 12 C, had a metal badge made that showed 12C. Everybody had a long wide ribbon on which they asked colleagues and teachers to write something. Then, this long ribbon was tied around one&#8217;s neck. I still have my ribbon somewhere, I think. After an all school meeting and pep talk, we all left the highschool and walked as a group towards downtown, singing at the top of our voices. Everybody would look at us and smile. And we were very proud of ourselves. We were like drunk. We were free from uniforms. Colleges did not require uniforms. And the great majority of us would go to college. There were very few of us who didn&#8217;t. A lot of us went on to study English, quite a few to become doctors. Some others left to become engineers, architects, teachers. <br /> A few days later, we had our grand graduation ball at a fancy restaurant. There was food, drinks, dancing. All under the supervision of all teachers and the principal. Everything was very civilized. Nobody got very drunk. And of course, we all walked or took the bus. There were no limos and we didn&#8217;t even take taxis. I didn&#8217;t have too good of a time because I was running a high fever and had to leave early. <br />(to be continued) </p>
<p>Simona Georgescu</p>
]]></content:encoded>
					
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">153</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>My School Years in Romania (VII)</title>
		<link>https://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-vii/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Redactie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 Nov 2002 19:26:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Romania]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.gandaculdecolorado.com/my-school-years-in-romania-vii/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The grades were between 1 and 10 with 10 being the best. 1 or 2 was given for cheating. 5 and above were passing grades. Usually 5 was considered a &#8220;charity&#8221; grade. The usual grades were for oral examinations, in front of the whole class. There were however, written examinations. Some were announced, some were [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div>The grades were between 1 and 10 with 10 being the best. 1 or 2 was given for cheating. 5 and above were passing grades. Usually 5 was considered a &#8220;charity&#8221; grade. The usual grades were for oral examinations, in front of the whole class. There were however, written examinations. Some were announced, some were not. Sometimes you got a grade for a home assignment. Starting with the 5th grade, we started having term written examinations for a few subjects, first just 2 and then up to 5-6. The term written examination was announced from the beginning of the term. Everything covered in that subject for that term could be tested. You had to know everything. To get to the term grade for that subject, an average of the oral examinations would be taken, and that figure would be averaged with the written exam to get to the term grade. <br /> At the beginning of each year, we would assemble in the schoolyard, by class, in a U shape. Our main teacher (diriginte) was there. We would line up and then, two by two, go to our class. Each year the classroom would be different but the class itself stayed the same. Some kids moved away, or moved out but just because their parents changed residences and they enrolled in other school. <br /> Then, the very first day, every student would receive (free) manuals for each of the subjects. We got to keep these manuals. Later on, in high school, the manuals were recycled. We might have gotten used manuals for some subjects and at the end of the year we had to turn them in. <br /> Before school started, all stationery stores had long lines of people who waited to buy school supplies. We had to buy these. Everything was very organized. Each store had received the exact list of what a first grader, second grader, third grader, etc. would need for that year, down to the smallest detail. Supplies for each grade would be different. Wrapping paper would also be bought because books and copybooks, draft books, everything had to be neatly wrapped (only blue paper) and neatly labeled with the student&#8217;s name and grade. <br /> The first day we would also get the schedule for each day. School was taught in the morning and in the afternoon. I remember that in some grades, we started around noontime or 1 PM, and stayed in school until 5 or 6. Each day, 4-6 subjects were taught. Usually, each of these subjects necessitated a book and 1-2 exercise books. We were required to carry all these books and exercise books that would be needed for that day. One exercise book was for writing in class and one for homework. There were no loose papers. Everything was in book format. Homework was checked every day. Sometimes a student was assigned to check the colleague&#8217;s work. There was some cheating, students, copying their homework off some colleague&#8217;s exercise book just before the teacher came, but it was not widespread. <br /> Before the school year started, we also had to buy school uniforms (usually at least 2 so that we could change into clean ones mid-week) and also uniforms for gym. The required outfit for gym was black satin shorts and white t-shirts (for inside) and navy blue sweat pants and shirts for outside and colder weather. The uniforms had to be kept neat and in your size. You could not wear a uniform that was too short or too long. We usually bought them long and hemmed them to save on the expense. And as we grew, the hem would be let down. I remember that one time, when there were just 1-2 months until the end of the school year and the following year uniforms would be different, a principal asked me to buy another uniform because mine was getting a bit short. I pleaded that the time left was too short and that it would be a waste of money, but to no avail. I had to buy a new uniform. And there were no consignment stores to sell it to, once you no longer needed an item.       <br />(to be continued) </p>
<p>Simona Georgescu</p>
</p></div>
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