Altitude: 170 m
Population: 14,297 inhabitants (2011)

              “Work, read, travel!” is the urge made in the Banat dialect by Tata Oancea from Bocșa-Vasiova, by his true name Petru Oancea, considered a great painter of words.
                   Today, once a year, grace to the “Tata Oancea” Festival, Bocşa speaks in a dialect specific to Banat.


When travelling “with the head in the clouds” through the Mountainous Banat and you arrive at Bocșa, “stretched and enchanting” (9 km), try to catch one of the three days of the “Tata OanceaFestival of Creation and Interpretation in Banat dialect, what it has been held here for 37 years. Do not be surprised if you do not understand all the recited verses, because they are spoken in the Banat dialect with the frankness and humour of the one who throughout his life has permanently been travelling through Banat with the “Vasiova” literary and information journal.

In a world about which it is said:
                                      But what they are writing, my dear critics!          
                                      Brainless and mad,       
                                      Why do you not see, that today we are living      
                                      Only and only from “lies”.          

You will reflect on the creed of the Banat peasant – poet uttered in the following lyrics:     

                                          In the time when you slept    
                                          In the time when you did not work     
                                          In that time when you did not live,     

sitting in the shade of an old pear tree, you will hear the exciting urge:     

                                                 Work, read, travel!        

Then and only then you will have the thought and wish to travel through such beautiful and wonderful places in the Mountainous Banat, listening to the sweet Banat dialect:


From what seed did you pop out
and who did you strike  
Thought and longing     
Longing and thought what earth?!          

How come you do not stop?

And only you two keep walking

Thought and longing     
Longing and thought, for how long?

Who did raise you         
What water did you drink           
Thought and longing     
Longing and thought, what a spring?!

Whether I’m sick or whether I’m fine
what would you like to keep?
Oh, thought, dear thought
Oh, thought, dear thought, and if I die?!
 (Stefan Petruţ, Thought and longing)

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