This year in September one of the most eagerly awaited cultural events in Romania, the Enescu Festival will take place. Since my childhood I have followed this wonderful and spiritually invigorating event and, as usual this year I’ll be one of the happier music lovers who will have the luck to attend a few performances.

The word “luck” could be questioned; why not honor, pleasure, opportunity, joy? The answer is very easy and, if you allow me...very Romanian. To attend the Enescu Festival is more an issue of good/bad luck because of the very 'Romanian way' the event is organized. Anyone who wants to attend the event must have nerves of steel when buying/acquiring the tickets. My experience this year should help illustrate the story.

First episode – The night before
At midnight, after drinking a strong coffee and thinking positive thoughts, I tried to access the online ticket sales, having in mind what happened in January when the passes sold out in two hours on internet in the middle of the night. The organizers didn’t think to specify an hour, so sales began as soon as clock struck midnight. Half sleeping, half awake because of the coffee, I accessed the site and was surprised to find that the organizers had set not only the day, but also the hour that tickets would go on sale: April 15 at ten o’clock in the morning. Good, I told myself, tomorrow at that hour I’ll be at one of the sales points, but, as this is Romania, I decided to be there early.

Second episode – the traffic
April 15, seven in the morning. Hurrying to find a parking location near the ticket outlet. A quick coffee, no makeup, jeans and a jacket and off I went. The usual scene for Monday morning rush hour: traffic jams, angry people, curses, driving between potholes, never ending construction work at a snail's pace. “Don’t be angry, you must cope," I thought. After at least an hour of chaotic traffic, I arrived at the car park. The day began very well because I had the unexpected fortune to find a parking place, a real fortune for Monday morning in the center of Bucharest.

Third episode – The queue
Half past eight in the morning and the ticket office would open at ten o’clock. Anyway, didn’t matter, the first battle was won, the place in the queue. I was the fifth person, theoretically. “Pay attention, the battle was won, not the war,” I thought, but I was in a confident, positive frame of mind.

I looked at the people around me, recognizing a few of them from other years waiting for the Enescu Festival tickets. As usual, more than 80 percent were older people with intellectual aspects; very smartly dressed, but in clothes that I’m sure had seen many Enescu festivals. The conversation was about the difficulties of our times and about pensions and unemployment.

What was strange for me, but I think isn’t unusual nowadays in Romania, was that the people didn’t talk about the event for which they were waiting, they discussed instead everyday problems. I think it is sad that old people have to wait in queue, shivering with the cold wind and talking about annoyances. It reminded me of the queues in the Communist times, when my mother used to wait in queues, hours and hours in cold winter for ten eggs and a packet of butter. The goal this time was different, but, the conversations were almost the same. I thought how stoic the patience is in the absence of hope that some Romanians seem always able to display. I also found it sad that old people had to wait in the cold for tickets after many so called VIP, politicians, business men obtained free invitations or passes.

Every year at the Enescu festival, I see many people who know nothing, feel nothing about good music, but are there because it is a fashionable place to be seen. This is a tough and true mirror of Romania too. My private belief is the majority of real music lovers were nearby in the queue.

Fourth episode – selling process
When the selling process began, I found to my horror that every person had a long or a very long list of other people they were also buying tickets for. I made a calculation and I breathed deeply thinking of the hours I would have to spend there. Almost four, I guessed, and I wasn’t wrong.

One lady (the first) bought so many at so many performances that she spent 45 minutes at the ticket desk, annoying everyone, who began to scream at each other, at the clerk and, of course, at the lady buying the tickets. After this unpleasant moment which made me take a long breath, I again tried to think positively. The process was more or less smooth, after the initial scene, the only unpleasant thing being that the selling process was rapidly in progress at all sales points and on the internet, the number of available tickets proportionally decreased.

Fifth episode – At last, and at least, I can buy
After three and a half hours, it was my turn. Full of hope and planned patience I began to read my list and I received more “Sorry, sold out” than “Yes, what kind of tickets do you want?”, but, again, looking on the bright side, I managed to buy tickets for nine performances. Rarely have I been so happy when handing over money.

Not too long after I paid, the computer broke down and the printed tickets weren’t issued. From that moment on began chaos. Telephone calls to the IT department, resetting the computer, arguments about the cancellation of reservations, screams from the dissatisfied customers, advice on how to use a computer... a general, nameless discord. After 40 minutes the problem was solved but it cost time, nerves and tickets lost. I went out feeling euphoric, keeping close to my heart the valuable treasure acquired.
So, I had luck and, consequently, I’m happy because I’ll see all those performances, but, at the same time, I cannot but stop to question why aren’t Romanians able to organize professionally such events ? Why do double standards exist, including in these circumstances ?Why do people become angry so quickly ? Why don’t the organizers verify the locations and the IT program? Why the people in charge aren’t trained properly?

Anyway, the saga of buying tickets for the Enescu Festival made me sadly see again the mirror of our society : disordered, corrupted, badly trained, nervous, in spite of many Romanians appetite for Spiritual food and a well organized tranquil world.

By Mariana Ganea, guest writer