Halfway down the Danube

A Visit to the Senate

I visited the Romanian Senate last week. I was there to testify before the Senate Committee on the Budget, which was reviewing the new draft Fiscal Code. (Did anyone actually want to know that? I don't talk about my job much here, in part because I doubt too many of you are interested. Anyhow.)

The Senate is the upper chamber of the Romanian Parliament, and it's not supposed to be where it is. I mean, it's supposed to be in the House of Parliament -- that's the huge building that used to be Ceaucescu's Palace of the People. After Ceausescu fell, the Romanians couldn't think of a better use for it, so they decided to move their Parliament into it. And the Chamber of Deputies -- that's the lower chamber of Parliament, equivalent to our House of Representatives -- moved there in 1996.

But the Senate hasn't. They don't want to. They want to stay where they are.

Where they are is a different big building altogether. It's the former headquarters of Romania's Communist Party, downtown on Piatsa Universitii.

Now, it's easy to lump all large public buildings from the Communist period together (big, ugly, inefficient), but in fact they are not all alike. And while the former CP headquarters is not an attractive building, I can see why the Senators prefer it.

Most obviously, it's in a much nicer location. Step out of the Palace of Parliament, and you're on a hilltop in the middle of nowhere, with a ten minute walk to the nearest place you can buy cigarettes. Step out of the Senate building, and you're on a bustling plaza full of shops, kiosks, restaurants, and busy students from the nearby University.

But it's also just a better space for the work of a Parliamentary body. The Palace of the People was originally designed for... well, for Ceausescu. It was supposed to be a joint government/party headquarters, and maybe some sort of convention center as well. The Palace wasn't designed with the convenience of the Senate (or anyone else) in mind.

But the inside of the Senate building is... well, "nice" might be overstating. But it's not actively horrible, and it is sort of interesting. It was built in the 1950s, at a time when Communism was still trying to reconcile its Spartan revolutionary tradition with its grandiose ambitions. In the case of the Senate building, the interesting compromise was to eliminate all decoration, but make everything about 25% bigger than normal.

Really. Ceilings are three meters high. Corridors are wide, wide enough to drive a car down -- much wider than in the US Senate buildings. Doors tend to be double and immense. It's like a building designed for a race of seven-foot-tall ogres.

I don't imagine it's the most practical use of space, but you know, it was sort of charming.

Mind, it's possible to take this sort of thing too far. The elevator was also large. But it had a brass bar welded to its sides -- its walls? what do you call the inside of an elevator? -- parallel to the door, at waist height. That is, the elevator was cut in two; you could walk into the front part, but not into the back. The bar was well worn and looked like it had been there for a while.

Why is that, I asked our guide. She didn't seem to hear me. I cleared my throat and asked again, a little louder. She muttered something and looked away.

"It's because the elevator motor isn't strong enough to lift the elevator when it's full," said my deputy.

"What?"

"The motor's not strong enough, so they can't ever fill the elevator. So they welded the bar to prevent people from crowding inside."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I still can't. Moving right along.

Posted by douglas at November 19, 2003 02:36 PM