Yes, we have CompUSA and MicroCenter here in Romania. Well, in a manner of speaking.

Literally, it translates to “the depository of calculators.” Bear in mind that calculate is a synonym of compute, so don’t allow yourself to unnecessarily trip up on subtleties. When localized for Americans, the phrase contextually means “computer store.” Sound familiar, stranger? Mosey on up and see the dry goods.

In Romania, we have just about everything you’d expect in the United States. DVD burners, wireless routers, CompactFlash cards, USB hubs, Canon color printers, AMD processors, Altec Lansing speaker systems, and even iPods. Some of the brands are unheard of, but others are the same names you know and trust.

You’d think that with Romania’s reputation for “cheap prices” on most anything from vegetables to outsourced Java programming (as well as the average monthly income hovering around $350 per month) that the stores would have some pretty killer bargains, eh, dude? Errrrrrr, wrong! Thanks for playing, Skippy.

I was a bit distraught when I first wandered into the meglomart down the street and noticed that digital cameras and rechargeable batteries seemed more expensive here than Stateside. I figured it must be a French thing and no one would be buying at this store. Another time, I wandered into the nearby Media Galaxy (attempted equivalent of BestBuy) and walked out after 3 minutes of currency conversions proved their prices were outrageous.

Surely, the straight out computer stores must offer better prices. I mean aside from a few rich folks who don’t shop prices as hard, there’s gotta be places were the majority of computer buyers go. I’ve seen a new chain of depozitul de calculatoare popping up in strategic places all over town called Ultra Pro. They advertise good prices and I’d thought I’d take a look at their modern desktop systems.

Can we say rip-off? You could buy 10 very similar computers from Amazon. Or, if you really needed the extra kick, you could actually buy two superior systems and pay to ship them all the way to Romania. But, why oh why, would you buy it from UltraPro?

I checked a number of their other prices for things like wifi access points and SD memory, but all the prices were ridiculously expensive for even the shady-looking brands. Let’s not forget that sales tax here is 19% (not the typical 8% of much of America). When you do the math, it’s a joke, y’all.

Let’s cast our net even wider and see what we catch, mmm?

I could go on and on, but I’m not here to set up a price comparison system. I just wanted to point out that prices in Romania are inordinately high. Combine that with significantly lower incomes and I start to become darn surprised as many people own computers as they do.

Given, the majority may still be the old rickety PIII boxen running pirated copies of Windows 95 in your local smoked-out internet cafe… but maybe that’s just the old stereotype still clinging to life instead. I do know more and more folks are getting online in Romania. Computer sales are up. I just can’t figure out how you’d do it here without spending a significant portion of income because the local sellers charge unbelievably high prices (when they very likely don’t have to).

So, prieteni meu, spill the beans. If you know where decent prices are, where y’all shopping? Or should someone start a discount co-op?

A few more phone calls and some increasingly impolite faxes later: Cineva Oriunde got sick of hearing from me. Guess who showed up today?

That’s right. Laurel and Hardy. Aşa e, nu?

After bickering with one another outside the apartment building about what parts they needed and what task they were about to do, they finally decided to come on up. I think they might have gotten off at the wrong floor once or twice, but eventually came the knock. They were nice enough blokes, just like Ollie and Stanley. They also bumbled the job quite a bit taking far longer than necessary chasing their own tails, just like Ollie and Stanley.

And the confused look on their faces was priceless. I’m sorry to report I operated tactfully and hence you do not get a photo of their puzzlement. They thought they were in the wrong apartment. Afterall, there was already a broadband modem here. And my gosh, just look at all those computers. Deja online? Wireless ce?!

It took some convincing to make them stay and change over to the new account. First they called Bucureşti to find out whether or not they should change the modem out for a newer one. I thought it wasn’t necessary, but the orders from on high came in that sweeping alterations where required. They studied the phone wires a bit, then examined the line splitter, before pondering the old broadband modem. Once they had exchanged a few quiet words between them, they determined it was safe to unplug.

I got the original box off a shelf so they could package the old modem up. Then came the new modem and a new line splitter. The wifi router continued to draw nervous glances and suspicious sneers. They needed to use the bathroom, call Bucureşti again with more questions, and then look outside the windows at the commotion going on (more on that next time) before they could bother to plug the new broadband modem into the electricity. More murmourings.

During this stage, they carefully unravelled the ethernet cable all the while having more discussions. Probably bickering over whether it was natural to have cable wound clockwise or counterclockwise. Should the twist-tie really have been black? These sorts of important musings.

One tech whipped out an IBM laptop and booted it up. He connected the cable directly to the broadband modem and proceeded to configure it, which consists of entering 2 DNS numbers and then changing the administrative password so that I, the customer, cannot enter the equipment I am paying for. He declared the modem to be working and disconnected his laptop.

Unfortunately, the all telling green lights were blinking SOS and he had to rethink the situation. And discuss it with his pal, who had been reading blank contracts and organizing his… pants. So, they reconnected their laptop and discovered that the LED readout was amazingly accurate: no connection.

I know what to do - let’s call Bucureşti! More discussions, this time threeway. And then the answer came down that no one in Bucures,ti had configured the new account yet, so it didn’t exist. So we all waited together, taking turns looking out the windows at the activities of the nearby school. The two of them talked more in low voices.

This pattern continued round and round. The modem worked. Oh wait, no, it didn’t work. Was my ethernet plugged in? Oh, it was? Hmmm… let’s see, why aren’t you using Windows 95? That’s what’s normal and works good. Ah, maybe this firewall thingie is getting in the way. Now, where exactly do we configure IP addresses? Because the handwritten notes in this booklet say we need to enter some mysterious numbers in somewhere, not that we have any clue what they are for or how it works. That’s why it takes two of us manly men to get this job done.

Prieteni roman, you must understand that both DSL and cable broadband companies in the United States do not typically come out to your house. Nope. They mail you a box and a very simple cheat-sheet of crib notes. Nothing difficult. 3 minutes later, you’re online without any serious wrangling. Dar aici? Ba nu.

So, they poked and prodded around the XP box I let them touch but they couldn’t seem to get it online no matter what they tried. I asked for the settings information, but they were extremely reluctant to part with anything other than DNS settings. However, this new modem in question is also a router and thus I’d need the LAN settings to connect. Apparently, they missed this concept back when they studied internet networking in 1965’s Ceauşescu high schools.

They wanted to touch my PC laptop. I bristled before politely explaining that they could commandeer that particular piece of equipment when they pried it from my cold dead fingers. Then I mentioned it was running a Windows Advanced Server and that scared them off anyway. They started to glance at the Mac laptop but that glimmering Apple logo nearly blinded them and they didn’t even ask. They gave a suggestive glance toward the shiny, tall silver and translucent tower and I grinned evilly, relishing the idea of dropping the “BSD” bomb… but they saw the smirk and turned back to the XP box.

Hmmm, what could be wrong? I made some suggestions that weren’t well received, so I kept my mouth shut and tried to find other things to do. They made more calls to Bucureşti, argued with one another over what numbers were in which book and applied to what situations without ever discussing why, and combed through various settings menus and file directies in Windows for quite some time until… a clueful BOFH rang up their mobile phone and very intolerantly (and loudly) barked instructions at them. They nervously got it right this time.

There were some more formalities as I asked them to repeat for me the information, so that I could configure the wireless router. When that failed, I explained that I needed the information to get the other computers online. Oh…. well, you see, Mr. American Idiot, you just click on this little blue “e” thing. Say! Where is your blue “e” interweb thingie?

Sheesh.
Ohhh… the other machines…

Anywho, two hours after I took the photo above, they were happy to escape out the front door amidst a chorus of “mulţumesc mult de tot” from Etaj Opt. So, it’s all sorted. I’m back without having to steal from… myself.

(Kyah, this time I win the bet fairly. But the Ukranaidian beat us all.)

Hack (hăk) v. - To play with a problem until a solution is found.

While Romtelecom is busy trying to deinsert its cranium from the confines its collective sphincter, I do — in fact — have my internet service back. All my frustration at their lack of cluefulness had given me a whim: I plugged in the old broadband modem, complete with its old username and password settings for the cancelled account, and voila! I am back.

Days from now, they’ll finally get around to sending some technicians over here to set up my service. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces. Incompetent boobs.

Gentle readers, the move was successful and all but we’ve hit something of a snag regarding internet service. Romtelecom has me feeling a bit like I’m fenced into a corner.

Essentially, it took a few visits to the local Romtelecom office near Hotel Aro Palace and the parcul central for a period of a week just to establish telephone service. That’s up and running now, but apparently getting internet service is something more complicated. There’s a lot of finger pointing going on between the Braşov techs, the Bucureşti internet department, and the national 930 customer service group. Bottomline: they’re taking me for a magic carpet ride.

After a couple dozen phone calls and nine separate faxes, the call came in late Friday that finally someone would assume personal responsibility to see my situation through to a solution. For you see, they finally found one of the faxes I’ve been repeatedly sending after receiving instructions from various people to submit a written request to clear up whatever confusion was going on. Frankly, it’s a bit like a circus act… only without the peanuts or music.

Not only do I not know what is going on, but I can guarantee you that not a single person working at Romtelecom has a clue either. Despite the use of a central database of customer managements (like any modern giant), each time you call Romtelecom results in a new story different from the last, the direction to call someone else (or possibly call the person you just spoke to a moment ago who told you to call this person), and/or yet another request for written authority to transfer service.

Asking for a supervisor gets you nowhere because the incompentent “leadership” at Romtelecom is afraid to pick up the phone and talk to customers. That is true regardless of the department. The folks on the frontline straight up tell you that managers will not talk to customers. It’s indicative of a disease that remains inside Romtelecom despite their fancy Americanesque branding campaigns that have recently proliferated everywhere. I predict Romtelecom will dwindle in the face of competition as the telecom market slowly cracks open here to VoIP companies and international competitors.

MBA 101 for the Romtelecom executives: Deer in the headlights is a failure of leadership. That’ll get you bought out, into bankruptcy, or replaced by the shareholders.

Cosmote is the fourth big player to enter into Romania’s burgeoning mobile telecommunications marketplace where penetration is estimated at 60% and total profits for 2005 were umpteen million.

For the record, Cosmote is owned by Greek giant OTE. Fun fact: OTE also owns Romtelecom, the aging fixed land phone monopoly previously discussed here. Obvious observation: Cosmote and Romtelecom are marketing allies.

I wish Cosmote luck because they have a fairly innovative expansion plan: play fair and offer decent prices. Unlike all the other Massive Mobile Megacorporations in Romania who charge an arm and a leg to call people they don’t like, Cosmote is vendor neutral and brings a semblence of sanity to a fractured buying public.

Remember the old junk marketing by MCI called Friends & Family? Basically, they raised the rates of their service artificially so they could offer you a “lower price” when talking to other MCI customers (aka your friends and family) whom you had browbeat into signing up for MCI. It was wildly successful for a bit. MCI launched a national campaign to advertise it, but the entire thing was leveraged by word of mouth viral marketing as silly people tried to convince everyone they knew to sign up like some kind of multi-level marketing scam. Weren’t you glad when those days came to end?

Companies love it, of course. Looking at it from their point of view, it’s brilliant. You take out some advertisements for… oh, let’s pretend AOL internet service… and you tell the target audience, “Hey, gang! If you join AOL, you’ll be able to email other AOL members for FREE!”

The implied message is that it will more expensive for non-AOL members to send email to AOL subscribers. And, after the campaign launches and the newspaper pundits all rattle off about it, then the rest of your marketing cost is almost nil because the great unwashed masses are out prostelytizing for you.

Oh, wait, AOL is already doing something like that. Hmmm, what’s another example which is hypothetical?

Ah, let’s say I buy Pepsi. Pepsi suddenly raises it’s prices 5 cents, before running advertisements in the magazines and on radio stations letting the world know that if you can convince your friends to drink Pepsi that they’ll give you 10 cents off your next purchase so long as you are drinking Pepsi with that friend at the time. Of course, if your friend orders a Coke because they happen to like Coca-Cola (and god knows how they can swallow that vile swill), well then your price of Pepsi will be higher. Kinda lame, isn’t it?

You see? It’s pervasive. Why? Companies make a killing by trying to get you do their marketing for them. Or by putting you inside a psychological cage.

Like, how about those grocery stores that raise their prices artificially and then offer to give you a “huge discount” (translation: “okay, we’ll charge you almost the same as we used to”) if and ONLY IF you sign up for their data collection program which tracks your every purchase of cheetos and enemas, so they can know more about your personal depravities.

Ah, but where was I? Someone’s gotta rope me back into the corral once in a while.

Orange and Vodafone (formerly known as Connex before the acquisition) are the two largest operators in Romania. They got here first and had bitter wars of the Friends & Family type. Ask a Romanian which mobile telecom provider is the best and they’ll instantly respond, “Mine!” Wow, a whole nation of unwitting marketing droids.

Alright, so the more sensible folk will say something like, “Well, that depends on who you know. Are most of your friends on Orange or on Connex?” (Notice they’re still resisting the Vodafone re-branding campaigns.) It’s a fairly sober way to approach the subject in their mind.

Fact is, if you are an Orange subscriber and you try to call a Connex customer, then Orange spanks you with a cat o’ nine tails by jacking up the price artificially. They want you to feel the pain so you will be motivated to tell your friend, “Hey, dude, why don’t you switch to Orange so I can call you often?” Or what happens when the poor sap falls in love with a Connex user and she says to him, “Baby, don’t you love me? Switch to Connex so we can talk more.”

“It’s a trap!”

These are the practical reality of the Romanian cellular service industry. Orange and Connex managed to divide the territory amongst themselves, spreading their empires by social networks. People did the work for the companies and still paid high rates. Which is why Orange and Connex make millions in profit every year in Romania. People lock themselves into cages and then ask family members to join them.

Zapp, the third largest provider, took a slightly better approach. Yes, they have a vendor lockin strategy, but they actually lowered the prices. Like, really. A call from one Orange customer to call another Orange customer is 7 cents a minute. A call for a Zapp customer to call an Orange customer? Zapp charges 7 cents a minute. Same price! That’s the way to do it, kids.Of course, Orange is still engaging in snobbery. If you are an Orange customer trying to call Zapp, you get slapped with 14 cents a minute. Orange administers double price to punish you for daring to call someone on a different network. Ditto for Connex. Their large market shares allow them to bleed the people dry… for now.

I would have said Zapp was the best until Cosmote decided to enter the market. It’s a much easier choice. For a vendor neutral solution where you don’t get robbed to talk to your various friends on different networks, I would seriously consider using Cosmote.

Cosmote charges one rate, the same rate, whether you call a fixed telephone from Romtelecom, a VoIP phone from Astral or RDS, an Orange mobile customer, a Connex user, or a Zapp buddy. Or even another Cosmote subscriber. One price. That’s the way to play ball, in my world.

As an added bonus, acting something of a countermeasure to the lockin programs of other companies, Cosmote is currently offering a bonus of “2000 Free Minutes” which are valid towards calling any other Cosmote customer. It’s not an artificial discount, but actually free calls.

You see? Competition is healthy. More choices for Romanian consumers is a good thing and should eventually reduce the prices from all vendors. Is there where I start waving a red, yellow and blue flag? Aşa.

Across the pond, there’s Verizon Wireless who kinda does the same thing today with “Verizon In” (as if it were “the In thing to do”) which lets you call any phone at the same price. And, yeah, once again, if you browbeat your friends and family into signing up for the same carrier as you, everyone could get free calls to them. At least that is a real discount not an artificial one.

Question of the Day: where is T-Mobile in all of this? “Vere are zee Germahnz?”

Now, I’d like to hear from all you playa hatas. Aside from the ridiculously long contracts these companies force you to sign, how will you justify your expensive Connex and Orange phones now?