Fingerprints of the Past: Cluj photographer tells the story of life as a wealthy peasant under Ceaușescu’s regime
In February 1952, the secret police agency of the Socialist Republic of Romania put Alexandru Ruja behind bars for being a “cheabur,” a pejorative term used to identify wealthy bourgeoisie peasants who own lands, farms, and crops. 70 years later, his great-granddaughter, Denisa Moldovan, is living to tell his story.
Denisa Moldovan is a law student at Babes-Bolyai University. While pursuing journalism as her double degree, she dived into her roots in a new photo report, “Fingerprints of the Past.”
The project features pictures of her nostalgia trip to capture what was left of her family’s past. It initially started as a photojournalism workshop project for her teacher, Calin Ilea, at the College of Political, Administrative, and Communication Sciences at Babes-Bolyai University, but the more she dived into the story, the more she found interesting pieces of her upbringing.
“He was hesitant about the subject at first, because the focus is dead and you can’t really follow up anything, photo-wise, from a dead person,” she recalls, adding, “But I knew I could dig up documents and ask his surviving sons, and that’s how I started the story. I’m really proud that I could bring his story to life because it is a part of my history, on a smaller level, and our country, on a much wider level.”
Photo 1: At the crossroads, in a small village called Șăușa, in Mureș County, Alexandru lived between 1904-1983. Born into an ordinary peasant family, a plowman by profession, he worked and made a fortune: 12 hectares and 10 acres, 4 working cattle, a 2-room house and a complete agricultural inventory.
The document reads, "The aforementioned is a dubious element towards our regime and all the decisions and directives given by the government he sought to give them a different course and a different interpretation.".
Both of them weren’t easy to talk to, suffering from old age and dementia. She eventually took a trip to the village where Sandu, the eldest, lived with his wife, Ana. The pair met when they were 15 and have been together since.
"They took him from home and took him to the canal. It was winter when they took him. There was a lot of snow. They put handcuffs on his hands and made him go ahead of them to make way for them. And it snowed, and it snowed, and there was a big snowdrift.”
“They arrived at Mureș, and it was turbulent water, and there was no bridge, there was only a boat. And the ferryman asked them, “Why don't you take the handcuffs off this man? Yes, if we all go by boat, he cannot save himself.” And they passed by Mureș, but they still kept it in front of them. With his back to them, he could only think of the sound of the bullet shooting him.”
“He was put in a van next to 4 others and went to the city. There they investigated him, but my father-in-law was never the mayor. They were only doing that to put him in prison.”
“He didn’t recognize nothing. He said they took him to the office, and they took a wooden suction cup and broke his tooth. After that, he was put in the ice prison. There were 4 walls of ice and that was all there was as far as the man entered, and the water flowed underneath. They kept telling him “admit it, old man, if not you’re going to freeze here,” but he didn't admit it, and that's how his feet froze.”
“Besides the university project, it has more to do with my spirituality because it reconnects me with the past – of my family and my country. I was especially close with Ion, and I’m happy that I could document this story before they’re gone,” Denisa closes our interview, as we come to a conclusion: “It’s important that we grow from our flaws because the first step of improving is recognizing the mistake. The 1989 fall of communism in Romania wasn’t a long time ago, and it’s going to take a while to eradicate that mentality, but this is one step forward to a better future.”
(Photos: Denisa Moldovan)