By Eva Siminiceanu

My dad, Radu Siminiceanu, says that anyone who has ever listened to a jammed radio station can surely remember what it sounds like: unmistakably wavy. As a child in the 1970s, he grew very familiar with this sound as he listened to Radio Free Europe, a station that was banned in Communist Romania for platforming independent Western reporters. His father committed the crime of listening to that anti-Soviet station each night, which put him at risk daily but also planted the idea of leaving Romania and moving to the West in my dad’s head. 

My parents were born in Romania and emigrated to the US when they were in their 20s. For 40 years, many countries in Eastern Europe were satellite states of the Soviet Union. In 1955, the Warsaw Pact was established, forming a defense alliance between the Soviet Union and all of its satellite states. Romania was a satellite state of the Soviet Union, so the people there experienced censorship and limited rights. My parents lived through the totalitarian dictatorship of Nicolae Ceauşescu and left after the Soviet Union fell. I was born in the US but have heard stories about Romania all of my life.

My grandpa and my mom in Romania. Photo credit: Valentina Robila.

When my parents were born in the city of Iasi in 1973, Romania was ruled by Ceauşescu. When he was young, Ceauşescu was an active member of Romania’s Communist movement. He slowly rose within the ranks of the movement and became head of the Communist Party in March 1965. He won popular support by distancing himself from the Soviet Union and even denouncing its 1979 invasion of Afghanistan. This action set him apart from other Eastern European leaders and won him tentative relationships with some Western nations, including the United States.

Ceauşescu’s relationship with the United States in particular brought many small treats from abroad to Romanians in the 1970s. My grandfather, Emil Robila, remembers being able to buy imported Coca-Cola and other American products. He worked as a mechanical engineer, and along with his wife Mariana Robila’s salary from teaching chemistry, they were able to support their family and indulge in these small treats. He remembers going to movie theaters and watching American westerns, with his favorites being the ones starring John Wayne. He was also given time off of work to travel within other Soviet satellite countries, and he fondly remembers purchasing a high-quality car engine in East Germany and installing it in his car immediately after. However, there was a severe lack of other necessities. There were shortages of food, days without electricity, and significant suppression of free speech and thought. 

My grandma and grandpa holding my mom as a baby. Photo credit: Valentina Robila.

My dad says that the Securitate, Ceauşescu’s secret police, “had nearly a third of the Romanian population on its payroll in order to find dissenters.” Those kinds of numbers could easily cause paranoia and mistrust within the people, but many Romanian communities were resilient and supportive instead. My mom, Valentina Robila, remembers her neighbors supporting each other in times when there were food shortages, and the solidarity between the Romanian people inspired her to succeed as much as she could under Ceauşescu’s restrictions, while still supporting her community. 

According to my mom, the Ceauşescu regime feared the arts and humanities because they were “vessels for free thought.” In schools, these were significantly limited, but the education system did provide an advanced education in science and math for anyone that was interested. I know Romanian immigrants in the US who are physicists, doctors, dentists, and math teachers, but none who are writers or artists. Both of my parents were drawn to this education system and worked hard to take full advantage of it. My dad focused on his education to find a way out of Romania, while my mom found an interest in science and pursued medical school. 

My mom also listened to jammed radio as a child, but she never thought to leave the country until my dad, who she had just married, left and brought her along. She loved her family and friends and had received a medical degree from the University of Iasi in Romania. She “had a lovely home environment” and “felt shielded from some of the bad of the dictatorship.” She always felt inspired by the underground freedom movements and the support of her family. She was lured to the US by opportunities to get a PhD and do biomedical research, but for her, the decision to leave was “swift,” according to her. 

Protesters in Bucharest in 1989. Photo credit: Romanian National History Museum via Wikimedia Commons.

Near the end of Ceauşescu’s rule in 1989, he became highly paranoid about a coup. His regime was increasingly strict on civilians and harsh towards political dissenters, and there were no opportunities to flee. As other Eastern European countries’ Communist regimes lost power, many Romanians became disillusioned and angry as their oppression under Ceauşescu continued. Due to extreme censorship in Romania, my parents didn’t see the Berlin Wall fall until Ceauşescu’s rule ended. They remember feeling fearful during that transition period, saying, “We felt that if we couldn’t shake off the dictatorship then, there would never be another opportunity for liberation.” On Christmas Day 1989, after weeks of uprisings and protests, Ceauşescu and his wife, who had fled the capital Bucharest and had been in hiding for days, were tried and executed on live television.

The legacy of that day is still a sensitive topic among Romanians. In the protests leading up to Christmas Day, around 1,200 protesters were killed in conflicts with the Securitate, leaving many people bitter and impassioned when the Ceauşescus were captured. The trial that occurred was hasty and was later condemned by the European Court of Human Rights for being “unfair,” but my parents, grandparents, and their friends were “ecstatic, hopeful and euphoric” on that day. According to Romanian poet Mircea Dinescu, “if he [Ceauşescu] hadn’t died, we would have died.” 

President Ion Iliescu in 1990. Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons user Ionutzmovie. 

After the Ceauşescus were executed, many people still struggled with poverty and corruption as the new government, led by politician Ion Iliescu, was unequipped to handle the new gap in leadership. According to my dad, many felt that the new leadership had “wasted the chance to turn the country around.” Over the next ten years, young people slowly left as people became disillusioned with the new government. According to the OECD, Romania’s diaspora is currently the fifth-largest in the world, and in 2015 Romanians accounted for almost half of the immigrants in its neighboring countries. 

My dad, who was 16 at the time, was coming back from a winter break trip to the mountains of Romania on Christmas Day in 1989, and he remembers watching the events of the day unfold on TV. He remembers feeling optimistic about Romania’s future, saying that “the great expectations of a brighter future and sudden new opportunities for our country made me rethink the idea of immigrating to the West.” However, when Romania began to face corruption and poor management, he finally started to plan to move away now that he had the freedom to leave.

My dad at his William & Mary graduation. Photo credit: Radu Siminiceanu.

In 1994, my dad was given the chance to visit the United States by Romania’s Department of Education, and after seeing NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab and UCLA‘s campus in California, he knew he wanted to go to the United States. He still remembers that trip clearly, saying that “it was a phenomenal experience for a 21-year-old.” He had once read a book of biographies of many US presidents and read that many of them had attended William and Mary College. Since he didn’t have any internet, he mailed his paper application overseas and waited for a result. He was accepted, and in 1998 he immigrated to the United States on a student visa.

When my mom left for America to get her PhD, both she and her family thought that she would come back after she finished her studies, but she ended up staying in the US permanently. My grandfather, who was always fascinated by America, encouraged her to go, while her mother was “a little more resistant.” My mom also got a student visa to begin studying for her PhD in biomedical science at the University of Miami. After previously serving as a translator and liaison for American social workers coming to Romania, as well as studying abroad in Egypt, she had plenty of experience with new cultures and environments. Because of those experiences, she found the transition to Miami to be easy. She had grown up in a city, and the “diverse, highly international population of Miami” helped to ease the discomfort of moving to a new country. 

A statue of Thomas Jefferson on UVA’s campus. Photo credit: Flickr user Rob via Wikimedia Commons.

Since my dad was attending college in Virginia, “the travel costs to see each other became overwhelming,” so she decided to transfer to UVA. She had heard great things about the science research programs there and was accepted after applying to transfer. She found the transition from Miami to Charlottesville to be harder than the move from Romania to Miami, since she felt much more out of place in the uniformly American environment of Charlottesville, a relatively small city.

Along with those initial feelings of discomfort, she also noticed the many markers of Thomas Jefferson’s influence on the area. Jefferson was everywhere: street names, in paintings, and all over UVA’s campus. However, she had never actually learned anything about Jefferson or UVA’s history; she had only researched their biomedical research programs and its Virginia location. When she was interviewing to transfer, she mentioned that she had moved to Virginia to be closer to her husband. After she finished her first interview and stepped out to see my dad, who had dropped her off, her second interviewer saw him and asked, “Did you meet the guy?” when she came back inside. My mom, who didn’t understand that he was referring to my dad, replied, “Who, Jefferson?” Luckily, the interviewer thought she was joking, and their interview was much more lighthearted and successful afterwards.

My mom never did get to meet Thomas Jefferson, but she did get to meet many Americans who introduced her to the culture and customs at UVA. She is still grateful that everyone at UVA embraced her and allowed her to thrive alongside them. And, although she was one of the only international PhD students there, she says that “UVA’s labs attracted many international postdoctoral researchers,” so she still had spaces where she felt more natural and comfortable. Both my mom and my dad are glad that they came to the United States, which is also reflected in the millions of Romanians that have left and moved to other parts of the world.

My grandfather, however, is still living in Romania. He lives in an apartment in Iasi, where he has lived since my mom was a baby. I’ve been to that apartment, and although it’s small, it’s cozy and surrounded by warm, kind neighbors. Since his wife passed away in 2018, my grandfather spends most of his time in Romania with my uncle and his friends. Whenever I see my grandfather, he tells me that “there are more Romanian kids being born outside of Romania than inside of it,” and my observation has been that even the kids born in Romania have a tendency to leave. Both of my cousins were born in Romania, but one moved to France with her family four years ago and is planning on staying there for college. My other cousin left Romania last year to go to college in the Netherlands. 

My dad with his great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, sister, and cousins in Romania. Photo credit: Radu Siminiceanu.

My grandfather visits us for six months each year, which is as long as he can stay without applying for permanent residency, or green card, and for the other six months he goes back to Romania. He says that there’s really only old people and young people who want to leave but are unable to. And the older population is being hurt by a corrupt healthcare system and general lack of support. In spite of a seemingly bleak situation, my grandfather still enjoys his six months in Romania. He has friends there who like to travel with him, and I get constant updates from the Mediterranean Sea and the Romanian mountains. He also likes to cook and get together with his remaining family and friends on the holidays.

When asked about their Romanian heritage, my parents say that their feelings are still positive. According to my dad, “It’s a distinct culture; it’s the only romance culture in the Balkans—the only country in that area that’s not Slavic or Turkish.” My mom says that “it’s a warm culture with generous, hospitable, and interesting people, and there’s beautiful scenery.” She has “fond memories from time spent there,” and I will always cherish the stories I hear from my family about Romania. 

Featured image credit: Radu Siminiceanu.