Finding Taraf de Haïdouks

I was a bit weary from the road and losing inspiration spending most of my days hiding from the cruel heat of the summer in a pool of sweat.  I had it in my mind to give up and just head on to Bulgaria.  I met a good friend and she reminded me that nothing good ever came easy and that a good journalist is a fighter.  So, with that reminder I woke up early and headed out into the 98 degree weather determined for the small town of Clejani to ask random people in town if they knew any musicians.  I honestly wasn't looking forward to it.

On the way Clejani the bus picked up a drunk who smelled terrible.  The sun was beating down on every poor soul who couldn't get away and in the bus we all suffered through the musk and still heat together.  I didn't want to be there.  I tried to tell myself that it was a waste of time.  I was shooting in the dark at something that may not be there.  I couldn't tell if I was overly romanticizing the culture, to think I could show up in a town and ask at the local soda pop shop if they knew any gypsy musicians around that I could film. 

I had little note cards that explained my journey in Romanian, but if anyones answer were more complicated then yes or no it would all be lost in the wreck of the tower of Babel.  I would later have a friend translate my note card and realize it said something like, “This is how you make american journalist.  I have music you make for film and I will camp for short time.  Do you help?”

After buying a coke and being rejected twice I ran into George, a wide unshaven silly man who wanted me to buy him beer and cigarettes.  He seemed like he knew something about town and so I followed him into a peasant style shack with about 30 chickens, two ducks, a dog, 3 daughters, one baby boy and a tzigane grandma with a hard look.  My main connection was John and his wife.

The grandma kept telling me to give the baby some money to buy “booboo”.  I tried not to do it but she had a hard look to her and I liked her and believed that whatever booboo was, it was important so I paid up.  The grandma would always be doing things and shrugging her shoulders as if to say, “What else can I do?  Booboo turned out to be candy and balloons.  

John and I had a relaxed coffee talking politics and life in our respective worlds.  He told me to make some babies and get married.  He was just waking up, it must have been about 1p.m.  He had been up until 4a.m. and so had I.  It was not a problem for me to sit around and watch the chickens and babies play. 

We jumped in his car and drove to his cousins house.  His cousin is “Caliu” aka Ghoerghe Anghel, the main disciple of the recently deceased Nicolae Neacșu.  Nicolae Neacșu was the lead lăutari (musician) of Taraf de Haïdouks.  

Caliu is absolutely amazing.  He is actually the reason I set out to Romania to film musicians.  Every great musician I have ever met has a spaz in them as they play.  An uncontrollable twitch as they find their way through the notes.  You can see it in Hendrix as he hits the high notes, the way his bottom lip caves in as if someone had kicked him in the shin.  

Caliu’ spaz seems as if he is serving it to you.  He starts off smiling with eyes that beg the question, “Are you not entertained?”  If his eyes receive the answer he wants his smile get bigger and takes over his face but during the madness of the notes there is a struggle going on in those eyes.  It looks like a dance into madness with quick flashes of sobriety and sadness in between the staccato.  

He has a huge presence and is very kind.  I had given most of my tips to the other players before him so all I had to give him for this performance was a pathetic $2.  He took the money and acted like he was shaving with it, which apparently is what they do.  

I read the biography of my favorite gypsies Django and learned that no matter what success or amount of money, his life didn't change much.  He acted upon his will and never caught the bug that most successful people catch, of wanting more.  The money went about as fast as it came and was treated like the paper it actually is.