When I told my sister Livia, a teacher in Craiova, that I was coming home at the beginning of March, she replied that I had chosen the most unfortunate moment possible. "We have notice to vacate the cellars in the block for shelter, in case of attack. Stay there because you're fine!", she closed the conversation. She thought I was listening to her.
Three days later, we land at the airport in Otopeni, at midnight. Ioana, a neighbor, was waiting for me. "Hey, you chose when to come!", he said to me instead of "You're welcome", on the way to the parking lot.
Then, in the morning , Ioana 's mother, who lives upstairs in my Victorian house on Pia ?a Roman? , called me to the window. A gesture that dates from the time when I lived there more than twenty years ago , from the time when I was a special reporter at the National newspaper and then, at Antena 1 , for the "Prezentul Simplu" show. Usually, my upstairs neighbor made a comment about a broadcast report, or about what else she had read written by me. Now, in a whisper , he said to me, "Hey, Dana, don't you know what's going on here?"
And I knew. "Well that's why I came. Let me lend a helping hand and document what is happening. I got angry when some colleagues from the press here told me that they don't think the war is real, that the images broadcast by television are not from the scene . That they are rigged. I want to get involved.”
A few hours later, I set up with Ioana at the Help Center for Refugees at the North Station. "Just see how crowded it is," said Ioana, juggling among the cars as I closed my eyes in fear . We signed up for volunteers, they gave us a yellow jacket, and five minutes later, they sent us on our first mission. "A train with refugees is coming . Go to the platform and identify the refugees, help them with their luggage, and bringthey are here, at the Center", someone from the guard instructed us. We looked at each other and took her to the platform. "But aren't they training us?" asked Ioana, in her somewhat lazy but resonant voice. "I could see," I told him. "What would be so hard?" I answered, not believing what I was saying either.