Let It Snow!

By Helen Matthews

The Casa Poporului had gone missing. It was the largest building in Bucharest - some said it was second largest building in the world. Last night I had been able to admire its distant floodlit form from this very street corner. But now all I could see was a blur of white, broken only occasionally by huddled shapes struggling through the biting wind and snow. The overnight snowfall was deep enough to cause problems for traffic even in a country used to winter snows.

In retrospect, Bucharest in January was not one of my better ideas, but I did want to see the Casa Poporului or House of the People. This gigantic palace was built by the former President Ceaucescu, who bulldozed much of the city to make way for it. Almost complete at the time of his death, it was left singularly pointless; a monument to hubris. Full of marble and crystal, all the materials came from Romania except for some mahogany that crept into one room when no one was looking. It now houses a museum, the Romanian Senate and Parliament and still has room to spare.

Bucharest, January 2008

As a determined tourist, sub-zero temperatures and a minor blizzard were not going to deter me. Reason told me that it was foolish to leave the warm cosy cafe for what was likely to be a futile quest. Mad dogs and Englishmen might go out in the midday sun, but even the city’s stray dogs were staying indoors today. A large black dog had wandered in out of the snow and was determinedly resisting all attempts by the staff to push him out again. I was made of stronger stuff, so I stepped out into the knee-deep snow. Dodging out of the way of the snowplough, I turned up my collar and set off in what I fondly hoped was the right direction. Eventually I arrived at a crossroads. Behind me were stark apartment blocks. Ahead I could see nothing but a vast expanse of white. According to my map, the entrance to Ceaucescu’s folly was here somewhere, if I could only find it. At length a friendly road sweeper pointed out the way to the gate. The giant edifice itself was still invisible, and remained so almost until I reached the automatic doors.

Incredibly, the building was open to the public, despite the weather. I shook off the snow and joined a small group of English-speaking tourists waiting in the foyer. We stood around, thawing and dripping on the marble floor whilst we waited for the next scheduled tour and fantasised about a hot drinks machine. On the other side of the barrier was a staff room, where I could see the guides chatting and drinking coffee. Between us was the security desk, where two guards were closely watching a television screen. It might have been CCTV, but the soundtrack was belting out (in English), “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

Inside the Casa Poporului - at last!

First published in VISA 85 (June 2009)