Roşia Montană, underground folklore, Plai. We're waking up.

Our country's hymn clearly urges us to wake up; well, it's finally happening. The angry youth is out on the streets, the even angrier elders are joining in. Children are rattling bottles filled with coins, adding to the chorus of voices demanding to be heard. The only ones who stay silent are the journalists, the filthy media who once more demonstrates that silence is golden. Isn't it, though. Our revolution is silenced by the media but flourishes on social sites, on independent blogs and in people's souls. The protesters were called hipsters just because they were wearing clothes that they felt would resonate with the movement. They were deemed unworthy of protesting by people who were sitting on their fat asses in front of the television while these so called hipsters who don't understand were taking over boulevards and reclaiming the country. They were mocked and still are, because many think that this is not important, that it will blow over and that "nothing would have happened anyway, gosh." "Calm down, no need to make such a fuss." "Why even bother?" Why bother? I'll tell you why fucking bother. Because this is our land. Our fucking land that we fought to keep, struggled to maintain yet slowly leave it to rot in the hands of even more rotten people. How does this not make you angry? How can we be so passive when there's still something to save?

(c) Vlad Petri

Romania has a history of being an integral part of its valleys, mountains and forests. We are a people who knew how to respect the land, and that land loved us back. We have rich folklore and wonderful tales, great music that is lost as time passes. If this country's youth would only realize that what we have is powerful we might redeem the years of aimlessly floating through a nothingness characterized by lack of identity. Romanian is not a bad thing. Repeat after me. Romanian is not a bad thing. I'm only writing this in English because the narrative of minorities should reach beyond the borders imposed by language.

We're slowly waking up and with us resurrecting our old folklore.

The art:

The music:



The traditional clothing:

The festivals:

Plai 2013

FânFest 2013

This is our National Renaissance and I'm proud to be living through it.