Their Life in Romania Didn’t Give Them Much to Smile About

It was the non-stop smiles that threw us. After all, 16-year-old boys don’t grin like a Cheshire cat without reason.

But there they were--Rancho Alamitos volleyball players Peter Pantis, Gheorghe Talos and Teofil Tifrea--smiling like kids in a toothpaste commercial.

Had they just previewed a Madonna video? Or did someone forget to tell them that, at 16, you’re generally deep into that Depeche Mode phase. You know, dress in black. Go for gloom. Teen-age angst is upon you.

“Actually,” Talos says, beaming, “we’re just very happy to be here.”

Here being the United States, the country all three immigrated to from Romania. Though their families did not know each other before settling in Garden Grove, the boys have become good friends and teammates.

“People should be proud to live here,” Talos says. “They are lucky if they do.”

His friends nod in agreement. Sure, life in Garden Grove isn’t a glamour-fest like their favorite TV show, “Beverly Hills 90210”, but it’s a great improvement, in many ways, from whence they came.

In Romania, food shortages were common. Most homes were supplied with only enough electricity to light one 40-watt bulb in each room. Political and religious persecution was ever-present.

Tifrea, who has been here the longest of the three, since 1985, said his father lost his job at a chemical factory because he discussed Christianity during lunch breaks. Two of his uncles spent five years in prison for similar reasons. Same with Pantis’ grandfather.

Talos sometimes wishes he could forget his memories. The city in which he lived, Timisoara, was the site of the first major anti-government protests that led to the country’s revolution in December, 1989.

The month before, Talos’ parents told him they were going on a vacation to Italy, and they’d be home by Christmas. Weeks later, they phoned to tell him they were not coming back. They were going to the United States. They would send for Talos, their only child, when they could.

One night, Talos heard on the radio that there had been shooting in downtown Timisoara. Anti-government forces were protesting the tyrannical rule of Romanian President Nicolae Ceausescu. Talos and his aunt, who was caring for him, could hear sirens but didn’t realize the severity of the situation.

The next morning, Talos went to volleyball practice, then joined his teammates on a bus ride downtown. They didn’t expect such a ghastly scene. Hundreds of corpses had been laid out on the streets and sidewalks. Mass graves were being dug. Through the bus window, Talos could see the bodies of children.

Anti-Ceausescu forces had been gunned down by Romanian soldiers. Thousands of citizens had been caught in the cross fire. Some victims were displayed publicly, Talos said, to discourage further uprising.

But it only fueled the anti-Ceausescu sentiment. Talos and his teammates got off the bus and joined the 10,000 or so protesters jamming the city plaza. Shops were set on fire. Talos added his voice to the chants.

Jos cu dictotorul! Down with the dictator.

That night, Talos slept in a nearby park. Fearing more shooting, he positioned himself so it would look as if he were dead. As he lay there, he prayed. And wondered if he would ever see his parents again.

Two days later, Ceausescu was captured. And on Christmas Day, he was executed. In Timisoara, tens of thousands danced in the streets. Two months later, Talos joined his parents in the United States.

Tifrea and Pantis, who wandered into the Vaquero gym while Talos recounted his story, have returned to talk about happier times--namely the present and the future.

That isn’t to say they’ve forgotten Romania. They speak their native language at home, read Romanian newspapers for updates, and prefer their mothers’ sarmale , stuffed cabbage, or goulash over some of those mysterious concoctions in the school cafeteria.

But the United States is where they’re happy. They rate eating M&Ms;, watching cable TV and buying Nike sneakers on sale as their favorite American pastimes. And their trip of choice? Las Vegas. (Once they’re old enough, anyway).

Talos says he hopes someday to become a nuclear engineer. Or an actor. Pantis and Tifrea aren’t yet sure, though professional or Olympic volleyball is on their minds. Talos’ too.

It doesn’t matter that they’re only above-average players on a so-so team, they say. They have a vision: Play for the U.S. national team and beat Romania.

A longshot? Perhaps. But reason to smile.