Bucharest was beautiful then- I used to wander in Cismigiu Park on Sunday. In the morning we came from work, 20 persons in a truck. I worked near Bucharest. When we reached the city, the truck would drive on the hard pavement making my brains jolt.

On Sunday we used to go to the movies and in the evenings we would fall asleep at 10 because the TV didn?t work, anyway. One of its lamps had burnt. On Sunday we would eat our Sunday lunch, ending up in drinking. (A. G. I, 45)

Working Sundays were a pleasure to me. As a teacher I came to school around 8,30 or 9, the pioneers were already there, waiting with cleaning equipment: rakes, hoes, rows, baskets. The first attack was upon the yard of the school divided into sectors for each pioneer group. After that (it lasted for about an hour), we used to spread to the external sectors around the schools to clean the verdure spots around the blocks where the inhabitants were looking smilingly at us because we did their job. After the Revolution they came to the school asking if we wouldn?t come again with the children. After lunch we would go home merrily, hoping to wolf down a steak bought by my father in law who used to queue. (G. S.,1 46)

The working Sunday ended a working week for ? the flourishing and development blah-blah? After working overtime during the week (in order to fulfil the plan in record time), we had the ?pleasure? to work on Sundays to fulfil the plan for the ?exports?. Recreational and relaxing, wouldn?t you say so? (G. S., 59)

There was a time in which you couldn?t find napkins, toilet paper, toothpicks, detergent, paint. (M. C. J., 96)

I didn?t have many of those problems. I used to fix TV sets and radios, and when I needed something I would call my friends working in butcheries and food stores. I would fix their devices and they would supply me with whatever I needed, for a cost, but it was still easier. (C. M., 27)