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He brings these from the people.. Occasionally I sell a pair of...
He asks from a woman, she gives him shoes, and he sells them.
So that he can buy a bread. So that he can earn a living.
I am a mason by training but there are no jobs. So I sit and I wait.
I have ten kids, I don’t have much food to give to them, they are usually hungry.
It was better before, with Ceausescu, poor man, may God rest him in piece. They shot him, innocent.
My father died during the war. What he had been through... He was in a concentration camp.
One would throw a bread and they would all fight for it... If they were prisoners...
They suffered a lot for our country, Romania. But look that now the thieves came and they’re ripping Romania off.
Some are living very well and some badly. Especially our Gypsies, who have seven, eight, ten children.
I have thirteen overall, but only ten are alive who are making ends meet by working here and there.
It’s the way it is, it is difficult.
From one kilo of corn flour we make polenta (appr. trans. “hominy”) for three days. Cause we don’t have any more.
We are people destroyed by life.
I was not a man to eat ten breads. I took the bread from my ten kids and I gave it to others, so that they can live as well.
And that is why God is helping me. As now I got old and... Now I ended up selling sandals. Mostly for women.
People here in Romania leave them at times in front of their gates, the shoes they do not wear anymore.
And they know me, as I use to pass in front at times: “Valeriu, take these and sell them, and buy yourself a bread”.
Some people have too many and they give them away, outside, in the garbage bins.
What can one do? We can live.