Romanians are often accused of passiveness. I am fully guilty of this myself, especially since there were times when I liked to think of myself as a man who likes to act. Of course, a man of a lesser influence, but after all, it"s the thought that counts. I wanted to find an explanation for the inaction that has seized me latently, so I took a trip down memory lane through several years and a series of events.

I like to vote, just like most people who were granted this right after 1989. I"ve placed my stamp on the vote card one election after the other, getting more disenchanted each time, and mildly annoyed at betting on the wrong horse each time. Even so, I kept going to vote, until a certain moment. Namely, when I had to deal with the elbowing and persistence of a team of "professional" voters, who were on a "voting trip". I didn"t want to be lumped in with them, so I avoided getting dirty and I decided that in the future, I would just passively watch the electoral process from my living room.

These past few years, there were moments where I felt that my country was being insulted, both from the inside and from the outside. I get the nationalist thrill quite often, so I felt required to make a stand. I realized it was an uphill struggle when I had to argue with people and try to get them to understand that my nationalism was healthy and honest. The jokes of my acquaintances, who alluded that I needed medication, much like the leader of a certain political party, succeeded in dampening my nationalism. I put it next to me, on the couch.

Some of the government"s measures were not what I expected. I thought that the only way that I, a very lowly citizen, could talk to the elected politicians would be by going out on the street, in an organized protest. Vocal union leaders kept urging people to attend street protests. They seemed genuinely concerned