FROM ROMANIA:  
RECOGNITION (AND ENVY) OF THE AMERICAN ETHOS AND ELAN!!

AN ODE TO AMERICA

Why are Americans so united? They don't resemble one another, even 
if you paint them! They speak all the languages of the world and form 
an astonishing mixture of civilizations. Some of them are nearly extinct,
others are incompatible with one another, and in matters of religious
beliefs, not even God can count how many they are.

Still, the American tragedy turned three hundred million people into a
hand put on the heart. Nobody rushed to accuse the White House, the
army, the secret services that they are only a bunch of losers. Nobody
rushed to empty their bank accounts. Nobody rushed on the streets 
nearby to gape about.

The Americans volunteered to donate blood and to give a helping hand.
After the first moments of panic, they raised the flag on the smoking
ruins, putting on T-shirts, caps and ties in the colors of the national
flag.

They placed flags on buildings and cars as if in every place and on
every car a minister or the president was passing. On every occasion
they started singing their traditional song: "God Bless America!".

Silent as a rock, I watched the charity concert broadcast on Saturday 
once, twice, three times, on different TV channels. There were Clint 
Eastwood, Willie Nelson, Robert de Niro, Julia Roberts, Cassius Clay,
Jack Nicholson, Bruce Springsteen, Silvester Stalone, James Wood, 
and many others whom no film or producers could ever bring together.
 
The American's solidarity spirit turned them into a choir. Actually, 
choir is not the word. What you could hear was the heavy artillery of 
the American soul. What neither George W. Bush, nor Bill Clinton, nor 
Colin Powell could say without facing the risk of stumbling over words 
and sounds, was being heard in a great and unmistakable way in this 
charity concert.

I don't know how it happened that all this obsessive singing of America 
didn't sound croaky, nationalist, or ostentatious! It made you green 
with envy because you weren't able to sing for your country without
running the risk of being considered chauvinist, ridiculous, or
suspected of who-knows-what mean interests.

I watched the live broadcast and the rerun of its rerun for hours
listening to the story of the guy who went down one hundred floors 
with a woman in a wheelchair without knowing who she was, or of the
Californian hockey player, who fought with the terrorists and prevented
the plane from hitting a target that would have killed other hundreds or
thousands of people. How on earth were they able to bow before a 
fellow human?

Imperceptibly, with every word and musical note, the memory of some
turned into a modern myth of tragic heroes. And with every phone call, 
millions and millions of dollars were put in a collection aimed at
rewarding not a man or a family, but a spirit which nothing can buy.

What on earth can unite the Americans in such a way? Their land? 
Their galloping history? Their economic power? Money? I tried for 
hours to find an answer, humming songs and murmuring phrases 
which risk of sounding like commonplaces. I thought things over, but 
I reached only one conclusion.

Only freedom can work such miracles!
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