– Mister Buia, why does this old superb restaurant remains closed and it seems large enough, a real restaurant with different rooms, overgrown and people “drink a stirrup cup” or in “boutiques” where not even two people that clank a glass don’t fit? I don’t even want to talk about when you want to sit down….
– This restaurant has its own story. Besides the restaurant was also a badge one. Before telling you its story, a question will fit: “Why do they call the Moldavians by “wire” when as a historical tradition they are called “head ox” (after Stefan’s ox)?” But you will find the answers in the story I will tell you. Maybe my stories are too long, but also my step is heavy so you would forgive me if I have extended or I will extend with other things from our village. I know it’s not up to me to judge the things that the Savior made, but simply, sometimes I think that even for Him it was not easy to build this world, of humans, to make it functional and most of all to make people get at the certainty that only work can clear them out from slough, that only by working you can obtain wealth.
Whit this we got at the years after the second World War, when after so much death, diseases and adversities starvation came too, which made the ones with a few soul to loose it all, to become some famished dogs, which if they supposed you endangered it meal, it simply tear you to pieces. Moldavians became apart of the worst starvation. To save themselves, to save their children and ancestry they would sell all they could sell and leave for Muntenia or Transylvania after a bag or two of seeds. The trains were like grapes, but from those that travel above the carriage some got with no ticket. In fact, from where the hell should they get money for this too? All they had to give they gave for the seeds, which not for few times were also mildew. So, our Moldavians traveled most of the time above the carriage. But in each time during a fatality the hyenas that make goods from others disasters show up. At this time these hyenas were formed of gangs that were waiting for the train at the curves, at the going up where the speed was lower and they used to run a wire with its end curved in the Moldavians bags pulling it down from the carriage. Some could not leave their hope for life and “left” down including the bags, dieing or disabled for life.
After a while they “got” the trick and throw down with wood “the wire tentacles”. So they would not be surprised on the fact “they guardianship” by turns.