There are a lot of things here that don't seem to be as meticulously constructed--or, perhaps, not subject to the stringent codes and requirements--as what I'm used to from where I grew up. I've watched several houses go up in a few different areas, and not once has any of them been built by a contractor; it's always just the owners/friends/relatives pitching in laying bricks or putting in foundation. At the Habitat for Humanity site we worked on last summer, I saw people pouring concrete over piles of trash--even a couple of empty, capped, 2L beer bottles--and found myself wondering how long it would be before that concrete started breaking up and resembling the rubble I'm so used to seeing in place of sidewalks. When I visited a fellow volunteer in Buzău I saw a building whose ground-floor window ledge was unfinished, and upon closer inspection of the exposed cross-section I realised that one of the constituent layers of the wall was styrofoam. When the flushing mechanism in my toilet broke and I removed the tank lid to locate the damaged component, I found myself wondering "hmm ... where will I find a replacement for the acetone bottle" ... and so on.
This seemingly lackadaisical approach to construction also seems to extend into the electrical sphere. The most obvious piece of evidence is that, especially in older homes and flats, there aren't nearly enough outlets to keep up with the electricity demand, and as such these old, sketchy wiring systems are being asked to supply an unprecedented demand for power. The extension cord/power strip combos I see here more often than not look a little blackened or charred (melted, in a couple of disconcerting cases) around the plugholes, and there are a few lights in my apartment that flicker consistently unless just the right finesse is used when flipping the switches on. A similar attention to detail is also necessary quite often, when plugging in items, as if they deviate a few microdegrees from the optimal positioning and angle they won't receive the benefit of the current. I've seen sparks fly when I've plugged in my laptop cord (!), and ever since am scrupulously diligent to plug the cord first into the strip, and then into the laptop, reversing the procedure when unplugging. Thank the gods for the transformer plug, with it's blackened contact nodes.
(I'd thought the worst electrical job I'd heard of had been in my friend's sister's house in northern California; she apparently bought the place from a guy who fancied himself to be somewhat handy around the house, and had done a lot of work and repairs on his own. It seems "handy" was an adjective that really only applied in his own mind, as there were places where carpet bulges conspired to trip you and send you stumbling into the half hammered-in nails that reached neverendingly for loose clothing. But the undisputed winner of this impromptu anthology of questionable home-repair work would have to be the "wiring job" he did in the finished basement. When they removed the outlet covers to have a look at his handiwork, they discovered that he had wired the room with ... extension cords. Just ran the cords through the walls and mounted the plugs so that they were flush with the outlet faceplates. I don't think I'd be surprised to find the same level of care and attention used here.)

By far the worst I've come across yet has to be at another fellow volunteer's flat. Once again, the lone outlet in one room services several electrical items--fortunately he has a high-quality power strip to handle demand and distribution. The outlet itself, however, is unquestionably dodgy, and at seemingly random times will start to make popping, sputtering noises that sound a little too similar to a frying pan full of slowly heating oil. He swears that he's seen sparks coming from it on a couple of occasions, and there have been times when he's unplugged everything jacked into it, just to be on the safe side. When I hear about a particular bloc building burning down in his town, I'm sure to know the reason why.