Alex

N.1 (I’m going to try to keep the blogs shorter; I stayed up far too late last night. I promise a minimum of one blog every M-W-F, but maybe you’ll get more!)
N.2 (Planned and half written on the train from Brasov to Cluj Thurs 26 Aug, finished Tues 31. Events occur on Wed 25th Aug.)

“Thomas!” Alex extends his hand as I offer an uncertain “Salut,” outside his apartment block on the outskirts of-

I’m writing this on the train. Alex gets off the phone:
“My best friend is getting married this Saturday. Only yesterday we were running naked after cars in Brasov. We're growing up,” he muses with trepidation.
“Naked after cars?” I inquire.
“Yeah, it was mid-Februrary, four or five years ago. We lost a bet and it was about -21, -22.”
I'm missing the obvious point, so I offer in vain reassurance, “Well, it happens to all of us.”
“We always used to say we'd get married if we were stupid or bored!” he laughs.
“Is he happy?”
“Yes... I've told him what I think though!”

-Brasov. Daniel and he exchange a few words, laugh and Daniel leaves. “Multumesc,” I call as he gets into the car.

“Welcome to my house!” Alex declares, leading me into his apartment. It has two or three bedrooms, a kitchen, sitting room, bathroom and hallway in miniature. His room, in which I will stay, has all the hallmarks of a big kid. There are action figures on the shelves and a giant plasma TV connected to an Xbox.
“Where did you learn English Alex?”
“Cartoon Network.”
Naturally.

Alex enjoys the little things. He’s very upset to see the water in his new aquarium is still cloudy, but even so he’s rather proud of it. It is impressive. There’s a shisha thing in the corner with a Canadian flag sticking out of it (his ambition is to get out of Romania and live in Canada). He has a towel pinned up with the BMW logo. He shows me a racing game on his laptop that effectively involves destroying your opponents and surviving to the finish, and I’m disappointed to forget its name later. I note the video games on the floor and we begin a geeky discussion.
“But they're very expensive here, much more than England.”
“They're expensive too, in England.”
But the pizza arrives and we end the conversation there. Though I still wonder at our relative definitions of 'expensive'.

Over pizza we watch Bear Grylls on the Discovery channel. Alex has cable and the Romanians prefer subtitles to dubbing, so we both enjoy our own cynical commentary:
I'm going alone into the deep marshes...
“With your cameraman, sound guy and producer!”
...where no-one will be able to help me if I'm injured.
“Except the guys filming you in the helicopter.”

I ask Alex a bit about himself. He's 22, an IT student at the university, but he also works two jobs: the ProjectsAbroad desk officer (the general point of contact about anything) and repairs computers for another company.
“In the holidays, or all the time?”
“All the time, of course!”
I'm a little stunned. Two jobs? And studies? 
“Isn’t that pretty tough?”
He looks away for the briefest time, with his voice trailing off he says, “Yeah, it can be. But money…”

I unpack while he makes my bed. I help him with the duvet, and when it’s done I pick up my new headphones in their awkward clamshell packaging.
“Do you have any scissors for these?”
“Maybe…”
I follow him to the kitchen where he gets a pair and I open it, explaining, “I left my headphones at home, I bought these in the airport.”
“How much were they?”
“Sixteen pounds.” I had looked for cheaper ones but, being petrified of planes and always looking for an escape while flying, bought them. The plan fell through when I realized they were unopenable with my bare hands. I didn’t think too much of the price anyway.
“Woah, not cheap huh?”
It hadn’t really crossed my mind. What could I do with that money? Why did I spend it? I guess it was worth it, in the end, but I hadn’t thought about it, just handed the money over. Three hours waiting tables. The cost of a nice lunch for two.

It’s an old cliche, that you don’t know how privileged you are. I’ve always been grateful and respectful of my father’s provision for me and our family. But I guess when all you know is your dad just paying for stuff, never saying “I can’t afford this” and rarely saying “It’s too expensive” (though more often “You realize this isn’t cheap, you should look after this/use it/be grateful.”), you get that way yourself. Step into a tiny apartment that houses a family (I briefly met his sister, his mother was on holiday), meet a guy whose ambition is for Canada but works two jobs while studying for a degree in IT, all while avoiding growing up, or getting too serious (he’s doing a fine job),  you start learning a lot pretty quickly.

Sixteen pounds. Not cheap.