A Romanian ballad by George Toparceanu tells the story of a cricket that wanders around all summer long doing nothing but singing. Autumn arrives, but the cricket continues to stray and to sing. Then winter follows, bringing its icy barrenness. It is only then that the cricket realizes that he hasn't gathered provisions for the winter! He goes to his neighbor, the ant, to ask for something to eat, but the ant refuses saying, “You roamed around all summer long wasting your time singing.”
Like the cricket in the old ballad, Ion also wanders from one place to another. This 18-year-old boy has been roaming the streets of Galati since he was small. At first, Ion fled the beatings of his father. But even after his parents divorced, Ion could not break the addiction to street life. Today he continues to spend his days and nights on the streets.
Also like Toparceanu's cricket, Ion sings wherever he wanders. This troubadour sings the latest hip-hop songs; only he makes up his own words to the melody causing the other street children to laugh. Unfortunately, his entertainment value lasts but a moment. The other boys think of him only as tall, skinny and afraid to fight. Even the little ones will jump him, forcing Ion to use his best defense: screaming.
Ion wanders and sings, but he does not share the cricket's flaw of not gathering. Ion is quick to pull out of his stuffed pockets broken toys, matches and metal pieces. But his collection is not reserved for the inanimate. Many times Ion has captured street dogs and hedgehogs, brought them to the sewer, and made them his pets. The animals and trinkets give Ion a sense of security, a sense of friendship, and a sense of ownership.
Ion is a wanderer, but he is no pilgrim – for a pilgrim has a purpose to his journey. Ion drifts aimlessly like a nomad. The unpredictable sandstorms of his journey quickly cover what fleeting trail was tread. He wanders and he sings. As the popular Romanian saying goes: “When a Gypsy is hungry, he sings.” Unfortunately, Ion's songs do not bring him much food. He shares the cricket's plight of starving. But this is not because he has not made provisions. It is because those who are meant to care for him have not.
The seasons continue to turn for Ion. Summer leads to autumn, and autumn leads to winter. But Ion cannot quite see spring – a time for change; a time for planning; a time for the expectation of a new future…and a time to ask: What do crickets eat anyway?
