A minister. A lady. A nice looking lady. She has to do with Romania’s internal affairs. But does she?
Body language of minister
During government meetings the minister keeps her head bent and her voice low. When one gets to see her eyes, they meet a doe’s quasi-wet look. That look sharpens once she has to face the press. She involuntarily bends her brow and pretty thin daggers dart forth. Invariably a grimace of her lips compliments the stiff portrait.
Although I haven’t yet had a good chance at noticing her gait, the curious rhythm of her pace stands definitely out. In default mode, it is perfectly congruent with her sluggish demeanor. But when encountered with journalists, the pace quickens as a chased hen’s. The couple of times I’ve seen that action, I had the impression I was watching a scene from a silent movie.
Voice of minister
Silent it is, yes. In government meetings the voice of this minister is barely audible. Both physically and ministerially. She just reads some measly amount of data from a piece of paper in front of her. She sounds so frail and shaky as though afraid of making a blunder. And she appears to sigh with relief when the data delivering is finally over.
To the gracious minister’s horror, the public speaking affair is not over. Outside the cool safety of the party’s or goverment’s meeting hall, freezing cold clusters of journalists and reporters are thirsty for hot news. A cold mountain of an obstacle the minister cannot possibly avoid. But this is what only the press think. Because she can. And she does. She surely interprets ‘internal affairs’ literally. Therefore she applies the quickened-pace method and scurries away.
Alas, I’ve seen the minister trapped once. Doe’s eyes more scared than ever before. That was my chance at hearing her voice in public. As frail and trembling as usual, yet getting higher and higher in pitch. Short shards, strident, somehow half-defensive and half-offensive. I almost dropped a tear for the minister of internal affairs, except that I caught the hatred in her eyes. Although I couldn’t see her pupils, the impression I got was that hatred and anger had terribly suppressed the poor pupils into needle points. In spite of her emotional stutter, the doe got aggressive and started to bark out at the reporters. I recognized the typical aggressiveness and hostility of the party the minister is a member of.
Speech gems of minister
The lady felt overwhelmed. Not one of the reporters’ questions was she able to answer. Utterly impotent, the minister blurted out some remarkable ‘gems’. Never in my life had I imagined that a minister of any government of any country in this world could star in such a shameful show. At least for one bloody second she must have cursed the day she had accepted to play the role of minister of internal affairs. What is a dummy without a prompter beside, after all? The until then unuttered truth received hard proof.
Cornered in a position of terror and live-broadcast public humiliation, the minister’s few words were worse than devoid of meaning. Rather, I would call those snatches of phrases pure laughable gems. She kept saying comic things like: I haven’t been informed by my inferiors; this is general information; I do not understand why we should talk on this topic; we are going to analyze this matter; the Romanian Secret Service have not signed the text message they sent; we could not tell who the sender was; it could have been sent by anyone; it could have been sent by one of you, or by any citizen.
If a cat were there, it would have laughed at least a hair off on air. A minister’s pathetic affair. The minister of internal affairs.