It’s not a scam but a custom that dates (as far as I know) more than a hundred years – at the turn of the XXth century as rural merchants brought their produce into the cities. An old (possibly regional) superstition, it did indeed mean that petting the lamb would bring good luck in the new year. Unknown if a grateful passerby started the “pay to touch” trend and unknown at what point the “Vasilica” came into play. Fact is that until mid-seventies, Vasilica was a regular on the streets of Bucharest and people would happily give a coin (5 bani or 25) to pet the cutesy lamb.

In times of communism he dissapeared however (wild guess: was not allowed as this was seen as begging? superstition? take your pick) along with the chimney sweeper (another bringer of luck if you got to touch him).

And I’m not that old, I’m in my early forties. I am surprised that more people don’t remember Vasilica or cosarul. :)

Those of my friends who swore blind allegiance to the Blood gang shriek with undying passion about how I must be a filthy Democrat partisan intent on subverting traditional social mores and creating a nannystate.

Those of my friends who have unfailing loyalty to the Crips gang unceremoniously tar and feather me as a wicked Republican pulling no stops to facilitate greedy corporatism and feed the very souls of the poor to rich overlords.

Even in casual jest, some of these dear people reveal themselves to be completely unaware of the blinders they see the world through and thus remain ignorant of the consequential impact upon their otherwise brilliant minds.

Further, if we were to put a handful of my friends into a room, you can bet many of them would immediately stigmatize one another and draw factions to escalate a large-scale verbal attack decrying the immorality of one another’s sacrosanct dogma. If only they could stop choking one another long enough to realize each of them believes I belong in “the other” party, respectively, then they might be able to find I subscribe to neither holy cow and reject the entire bifurcated notion out-of-hand.

But that’s why I love my rich tapestry of friends. They’re smart. They’re passionate. And seemingly everyone of them -in a mutually exclusive absurdity of logic- manages to label me as political enemy, which provides me with no end of means by which to torture their limited world views. =]

Meanwhile what’s with those people who go round with a kind of snapping toy animal made out of wood and pieces of cloth, singing and making a cacophony? We don’t have them here, but I saw them on the news a lot over the Xmas period.

After a little research on the internet, I found a 1998 source mentioning this slogan, but it’s probably much older.

Also, there are the GARBAGEMEN! Bucharest is probably unique by having its garbagemen to come to your door on Christmas day and to ask for money, presumably for liquor. That is true, at least in my part of the Titan neighbourhood.

I wonder who gives them any money. Presumably, some people believe that anything that is dirty and smelly brings good luck, just like chimney-sweepers and stepping in dog shit.