Report The unknown Transnistria and the origins of Sheriff Tiraspol, Real Madrid's rival: "It's like a communist movie"
The whispers of sport The Sheriff's Transnistria or football between nostalgic Stalin and criminals who protect the disabled
- "Is
Transnistria
pretty?"
- I do not know
- (...)
- I've been to
France, Germany, England
... But never there
At the
airport in Chisinau
, the capital of
Moldova
, traveling to the southeast sounds 'ugly' to many.
"The situation is ... Well ...".
And the clerk of one of the stores, who had done some tourism in Europe but not for his theoretical country, thus closes the conversation.
The ambiguity of his answer gives way to the
surrealism
of reality.
Once landed on Moldovan soil, in a country governed by a
pro-Roman Europeanist
(yes, there are Moldovans who want to be part of a '
Greater Romania
' and join their brother from the west), one has two options, take the R2 road towards the north or south.
Towards the capital or the unknown.
When choosing the latter,
50 kilometers
of endless straights
appear
, dark from four in the afternoon, with potholes that would make any suspension shake, with section radars, gas stations,
many gas
stations,
many gas
stations, and field, a lot of field, a lot countryside. Have we already talked about gas stations and the countryside? In the mountains, the Moldovan population is lost, of which only
41% live in cities
, one of the lowest proportions in Europe. Perhaps in a past trend or a futuristic vision of what awaits the rest of us. Anyway, about the gas stations and the fields:
Just buildings
, just people, just nothing.
After an hour of travel in which it is advisable not to leave the supposed main road and after some timid notices not too big - "
border, 10 km
" ("border, 10 km") -, you arrive at the self-proclaimed
Independent Republic of Transnistria
.
Prorussia, with the communist hammer and sickle on its flag, with the son of a Soviet soldier as president, with a currency that can only be obtained in its territory (the
ruble
) and that has no validity or exchange in any other part of the world and with a 'visa' in the form of a purchase receipt.
"
Border? 'Border' they will say
", defended some Moldovans at the airport, closed to engaging in any conversation that involves giving more than one piece of information about his life. Well yes, border for them. Along the way down the R2,
the same that the Real Madrid bus will have to travel
after hitting the ground in Chisinau this noon,
there are no signs of 'Transnistria
'. Only from
Bender and Tiraspol
, Moldovan cities, for all intents and purposes, on the north side of the line. Because for Moldova its country does not stop at the two booths that the Transnistrian government has set up on the asphalt of the R2, but there begins a kind of 'Autonomous Community' within its territory, but for Transnistria it does, here the yours. "And period", they will think.
"Real Madrid" and "Champions League"
are the magic words when arriving at the border point. And "passport", especially "passport". Giant Transnistrian flag, giant "
No to Corruption
"
signs
in English and
questions in Russian
(no longer in Moldovan). Car registration, passport control in an attached sentry box, '
toll
' to pass (paid in euros, and the police are delighted), a ticket with the date of entry and the date on which you must leave the territory (in five days) and a "
Hala Madrid
!" finally, the universal language. Because this week football has fixed the geopolitics of the area and
Sheriff Tiraspol
, who plays the Champions League from Transnistria but thanks to the ticket that the
Moldovan Football Federation
has given him
, receives, also after
passing through its border
(although with less complications, one might suppose) the most successful club in football. A matter of state. Or states. After the border, there is life, even at night.
A place called 'Lavida'
(yes, like that, in Spanish) and the first of many buildings with a giant '
Sheriff
' at the entrance. On the left, the river
Dniester
.
Rather than looking for problems to let in journalists or foreigners, Moldovans and Transnistria, policemen and citizens, they ask the same thing, half jokingly half seriously:
"Do you have tickets to the game?"
.
The
13,000 seats at Sheriff Stadium
will be few for the more than 130,000 inhabitants of Tiraspol, the second largest city in the area behind Chisinau.
"Madrid!", Jellies the receptionist of a hotel in Bender as he opens the Google translator because he is unable to speak a word in English.
'Madrid' as a solution to everything.
At least this week.
According to the criteria of The Trust Project
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