WEST VILLAGE — George Burciu had to travel much further than his home in Queens to get to his job in the West Village.
More than 30 years ago, the independent contractor left his native Romania for Libya, from where he was able to flee to Austria, live in a refugee camp and make his way to New York.
"I love the city because here, with no English, I built my life," said Burciu, 63, as he drank a Perrier with ice at the Hudson Diner, at Hudson and Barrow streets, last week.
"It seems to me for the first generation of immigrants, New York is the best place. We have tremendous chances here."
In 1980, when Burciu was 32, Romania was so bad that Libya seemed more appealing. He could make more money there working with heavy machinery than he could in Constanta, on Romania's Black Sea coast.
Under the Communist regime, as many as two million people were killed or persecuted, according to Romanian reports. During Nicolae Ceaușescu's reign, Romanians struggled with massive poverty as the country exported most of its agricultural and industrial goods to pay off its debt.
"In Romania, the conditions were you worked for the government and the government provided you a job, house and salary," Burciu said. "You didn't have permission to buy two or three properties, and it was very hard to buy just one car."
He moved to Libya where, for more than a year, Burciu toiled in Tripoli in boiling heat and lived in a crowded compound with other Romanians.
After his 12 months in north Africa, he decided to take his chance to leave.
Burciu knew then that he wanted to come to the US, though he couldn't say why.
"We didn't have much information at that time," he said.
When it came time for him to return to Romania, a friend gave Burciu the equivalent of $130 and drove him to the airport. Romanian authorities held his passport there, which was standard procedure at the time to try to prevent workers from fleeing, Burciu said.
With luggage in hand, Burciu approached the passport desk.
"When they gave me my passport, I ran," he said.
To his surprise, no one chased him. He went into hiding, staying with Polish and Libyan friends, though they didn't share a language.
To try to make his way to Europe, Burciu went to each of the European embassies in Tripoli. One by one, they told him he would need his employer's signature to get a visa.
Finally, someone told him to try the Austrian embassy. A driver there helped him arrange a visa interview, and to his surprise, it was granted.
Burciu didn't dare tell his parents, 10 siblings or girlfriend, Maria, about his plan, to avoid endangering them if police came to their house.
As he waited to board his plane to Vienna, he worried that something would go wrong.
"When I was 10th in line, I started to count down until my turn. Ten, nine, eight," he said. "When I heard the stamp go down [on my passport], I said, 'That's it.' I was too scared to even look at the customs officer."
He arrived in Vienna on a sunny day in June 1981 with $450 to his name, speaking only Romanian.
"I didn't know English, I didn't know nothing," said Burciu, who said he's never taken an English class.
He got a room at a hotel and gradually found other Romanians and a Romanian Baptist church, where he stayed until he could schedule an interview with the American Embassy to get a visa. Once his interview was scheduled, he stayed in a refugee camp with thousands of asylum seekers from all over Eastern Europe.
From 1980 to 1984, more than 57,000 Eastern Europeans filed asylum applications in Austria, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. About 5,000 of these were from Romania.
Three months later, Burciu's visa interview arrived. The officer asked him if he had been persecuted as a Baptist in Romania, as many Christians had been. He said no, and the interview ended inconclusively.
When Burciu told his friends in the camp what he said about being a Baptist, they laughed at him for not lying.
"George, you're not going to America," Burciu remembers they said.
But the handyman got the last laugh when his visa was granted.
On Sept. 19, 1981, Burciu landed alone at JFK airport. He knew one person in New York and called him from the airport.
"I called and said to my friend, 'I'm here,'" Burciu said.
"Where?" the friend replied.
"Here. In the airport," Burciu said.
The friend picked him up and took him to Ridgewood, Queens, where he called his family.
"Don't be worried. I arrived in America. I'm in a safe place. I'm OK," Burciu remembered telling his parents.
"I cried, because that is it. You don't forget your birthplace and your mom and your friends and all the people who helped you."
Burciu stayed in Ridgewood and worked doing waterproofing. No one would hire him to work with heavy machinery — his specialty — because of his lack of English skills.
At first, New York bewildered him.
"I didn't have in my imagination how many trains and how many stations there were. How does it all work? How do you drive here? There were so many lights, so many cars," he said. "The first time I came, I didn't know nothing. But I opened my eyes to the people, to the world."
After nearly two years, Maria, his sweetheart from home, came to the city. They married in 1983 and had two daughters together, who are now 22 and 24.
Over the years, Burciu established his own business, Linden Enterprise Corp. of Long Island City, which does waterproofing, roofing, brickwork and other work. Burciu became a citizen after about five years in New York and now owns three houses in Queens.
In the late '90s, after the collapse of Communism, he returned to Romania for the first time in more than a decade.
"I miss everything [in Romania], but I compensate here," he said. "I lost my sisters and brothers, but I built a new life here."
