A Real Look Behind the Iron Curtain
I have marvelled at the life of Ronald Mackay who seems to have travelled on the “edge of the precipice” with nary a cautious thought, a life lived like that of Graham Greene or Martha Gellhorn, where the experience mattered more than the consequence. I witnessed this in his previous memoir, Fortunate Isle, in which he landed in the Canary Islands by fortuitous circumstances at the age of 18. In this later memoir, The Kilt Behind the Curtain, chronicling two years of living in Romania in the late 1960’s as a visiting English professor under government auspices, he takes that devil-may-care nonchalance to a whole new level.
Ron gets this appointment via an intergovernmental exchange of university professors. Unlike normal diplomatic personnel, he is free of the strict protocols by which he must live his life and is able to stretch the law with impunity. Conversely, he enjoys no diplomatic immunity. Thus, although supposedly confined to the city limits of Bucharest, Ron travels into the Carpathian Mountains, Transylvania, and all the way north to the Russian border on weekends and longer excursions on the premise that “if the Romanians set my limits, they can enforce them.” His art of the bluff works well throughout his stay and he is left to discover this paradoxical country unfettered, although his apartment is bugged, spies are set on his tail constantly, and his academic colleagues shy away from him for fear that they will have to report their meetings to the dreaded “Base.”
This memoir is part history of the country, part socio-political exposé, and part travelogue, and I was intrigued on all counts, as Romania seems to be constantly relegated to the backwaters in all these areas and plays a minor role in our quotidian consciousness. Yet, there is a lot to unpack here. I learned that Romanians are leftovers of the Roman Empire and consider themselves Latin, although their industriousness, self-control, and persistence likens them to their northern neighbours. They are highly educated and speak multiple languages – four per citizen is average; three, not good enough. It is a nation of many migrations and occupations, with Hungarians, Germans, Saxons and Jews adding to the ethnic mix.
The cloak of Socialism that enveloped the country in 1947 and tightened into a chokehold under Nicolai Ceauşescu in the 1960’s set the country back generations. Everyone dreaded the security service, Securitate; many were induced to become informants. Imports were banned and essential good were in constant and rotating short supply. Even for Ron, coming out of the WWII-ravaged UK, shortages had become a thing of the past in his native country by the ’60’s. Consequent to this scarcity, Romanians believed that Westerners had two of everything, and every transaction was viewed with commercial gain in mind. When he plans to give his Romanian girlfriend “M” (name withheld for obvious reasons) a farewell gift, it was suggested he retrofit his typewriter with Romanian letters, as that would make good barter for an exit visa.
Life in Romania is a struggle: elbows and fists are required to get into busses—and watch out for getting electrocuted; shop shelves are thinly populated; you need to buy empties before you can exchange them for bottles of milk and yoghurt at the travelling street vendor; barter is a more effective form of currency, yet Romanians do not want to get into anyone’s debt for fear the pay-back may have political connotations.
Despite social limitations, Ron is a frequenter of US and UK diplomatic cocktail parties and selectively makes clandestine meetings with some of his bolder Romanian colleagues to get glimpses into their lives. Many live in one-bedroom apartments of single family dwellings, subdivided between several families – a Ceauşescu innovation to free up accommodation for rural migrants streaming into cities. Many in one of those rooms owned the entire house before it was nationalized. Some are contemplating defecting to the west and confide in Ron, seeking his help on the other side. Others are looking for favours from their present political masters by trying to get some “western dirt” out of Ron.
Colourful characters dot the pages: Karen, the glamourous spy planted to date Ron and take him out to upscale restaurants and cultural events that his British diplomatic colleagues can only salivate over: Petru, the homosexual, who takes over from Karen, when Ron showed he was not willing to cross the line with Petru’s now-redundant colleague; Alexandru from Alexandria who takes adult education classes from Ron, and who is anything but whom he claims to be; Dudu and his abortive defection to the west; Dino who invents the most convoluted secret rendezvous process to give Ron a glimpse of a printer’s proof copy of James Joyce’s posthumous love poem translated into Romanian; “C,” the deposed writer from the national writers’ union who shows up uninvited at diplomatic soirees to steal cigarettes. The list goes on…
The most interesting parts to me were the descriptions of Ron’s travels through Romania and into neighbouring Bulgaria, some undertaken with his mother Pearl (another avid and fearless traveller), and others with British and Romanian friends. Scenes of Transylvania, small towns along the Danube Delta, Wallachia and Bucovina are vividly painted with description and incident. Making hotel reservations is anathema to these travellers; they just show up and see what’s on offer at each off-beat location, even if it’s only the back seat of their car. Going off the beaten track to peer into the Russian side of the border is routine stuff for our intrepid Ron, even if the upshot is to be discovered by a Romanian tank brigade, having the tank brigade commander peer into the car, which also carries two unauthorized Romanian women, and having to think on his feet to get out of this jam!
Ronald Mackay has covered a very important time and place in history, one that has vanished, as Communism was dismantled in Romania in the late ‘80’s and the internet made us all similar in boring ways. It’s a testament to vanishing cultural vestiges in a country at the cross-roads of European migration, and to the fearless human spirit that demands the world to be a safe place, despite its quirks, one that we must be free to travel in and experience without fear.