34-year-old James Gray-Cheape, is no stranger to the problems that arise when you start trying to change social attitudes in Romania. A Gulf War veteran, he came to Romania six years ago after he left the army, intent on avoiding the monotony of a job in the City. In the lobby of the Hilton Hotel in Bucharest, he sips an espresso, and talks in a quiet, measured voice. After deciding to set up Pegasus, Bucharest's first bicycle-courier company, he went skiing with friends in Transylvania. 'I met a Scottish friend-who was out here teaching in a children's home. I needed to employ couriers, so I asked him about the guys he was working with. He gave a fantastic report, and so I met up with some of them in a bar.
He ended up employing five of them. But he hadn't banked on the hostility this would provoke among his staff: 'One said, "You're crazy! You don't know where they've come from. I warn you, they'll be drunken and rowdy!'" Despite the barracking, he stuck to his guns. 'It was a business decision, not just altruism. Many Romanian children are spoilt, and we didn't want people who'd cry off when it started raining. These boys were tough and hungry to work. If we hadn't employed them, they'd have ended up working in the market humping vegetables around - if they were lucky: He laughs wryly before adding: 'Now we employ about 50 per cent orphans... and we've had far more problems with the other half.
Initially, he didn't dare tell anyone in the business community that he was employing these boys but, as Pegasus started to become more and more successful, news leaked out, and now other companies have contacted him regarding doing the same thing. 'I believe in giving someone the tools so that they can create their own life; says Gray-Cheape. 'I give the guys a job - a livery, a bike and a wage. Then, it's up to them.
As he speaks, he becomes increasingly animated. It is obvious that he takes as much pride in the personal success of his employees as he does in his business. When we meet the couriers later at the Pegasus office near the centre of Bucharest, he relaxes completely and begins to chat with them in quick-fire Romanian. He seems more like an older brother than the head of an international company.
I meet Florin Iacob, Pegasus' longest-serving courier. Although shy, Florin becomes more eloquent as he talks about his boss. From this individual beneficiary, I get a sense of how much Gray-Cheape has helped Romania's most deprived children make a life for themselves. 'My future would have been very hard; says Florin. 'I had no family, no contacts or favours, so I couldn't get a job. Because I was an orphan, I was seen in a bad light. All I could do was lift bags of potatoes in the market, but now people see I am professional, they take me seriously.'
This article is reproduced by permission of Harpers & Queen, in which it was originally published. Copyright 2002. Photographs by Carlos Reyes-Manzo.
