Where is Moldova, anyway?

This is going to be my last post from Moldova. I’m not really sure what to write, maybe for the first time. I left my village at 6 this morning – after a day of goodbyes, tears, promises to meet “somewhere, sometime,” hugs, kisses, and more food and wine than I have EVER consumed in one day before. Honestly, leaving Singerei was harder than leaving River Vale to come to the Peace Corps – because I always knew when I would see River Vale again, who knows when I will be in these parts again….

I think after this whole Peace Corps thing sinks in, as well as the whole leaving thing sinks in, I might write something else here, more reflective and clear. But until then – I have two more days in Moldova, and I leave you with the two biggest things I will take away from this experience – perhaps things that aren’t so obvious, and that maybe I haven’t mentioned before.


1) An interest in being a host family to a foreign student in America. I’ve lived here for 2 years with the same host family, and they have been wonderful – really instrumental in allowing me to be successful here. Before that, during Peace Corps training, I lived with another host family – I have learned the good and the bad, seen it all, heard it all, been introduced to it all, been forced dresses, forced fed, and forced to talk to company. I’ve also been invited to parties, treated as a sister, and expected to do chores. I think it would be a really great experience for me (and my future family) to host an exchange student, and give him or her the kind of experience I had in Moldova – the experience of feeling at home somewhere far from home. Also, its probably not a bad idea to expose children to foreign cultures from an early age.

2) The world has no corners. Maybe potential Peace Corps volunteers are dreaming of arriving and working in their “corner” of the world – remote, secluded, not-connected. But I have to squash those dreams because these corners, in my opinion, no longer exist. Obama in his acceptance also addressed those in “forgotten corners of the world.” - maybe these “corners” existed in the past, but right now I think it is an outdated notion. Especially when the majority of the world can get on the internet through almost any phone line, where tv uses satellite, where the kids in my village know more Eminem lyrics than I do, where people travel, books are translated, radio broadcasts stronger… not many people exist in seclusion. Maybe not everyone personally has access to the internet, or a telephone, but word of mouth travels where technology does not. We are more interconnected than you think. Just because places border with other foreign places, and not with America, does not mean they exist in a corner, in a vacuum – they just have different influences, different neighbors. The world is definitely round, and is, much, much smaller than you think.

This is the last of my aunt's observations about Moldova, and Peace Corps in Moldova. I don't like posting things that are self-lauding, but I know if I don't post it, she will be on my case forever. So I leave you with her last impressions - as well as commentary on my work here. So at least you have a witness to the fact that I didn't disapear for two years to lay on a couch somewhere....

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Sharon will be closing down her blog very soon. I want to add a few observations.

1. Moldova is a beautiful rural country.
2. Private places are maintained, public places are not.
3. Traditions sometimes out weight comfort and common sense.
4. Sanitary conditions leave much to be desired.
5. Americans are still feared by some of the older rural population.
6. Old wives tales are still believed even in the face of science.
7. Income is sometimes supplemented by bribery.
8. Teenagers are the same all over the world.
9. Moldovans are wonderful, generous people.
10. Peace Corps Volunteers are wonderful, generous people.
11. I would not survive in Moldova.


What Sharon has accomplished in Singerei with the youth will last forever. She has done more than physically building and opening a youth center. She has changed lives. The teens have been given a voice in their future and the tools needed to change their future. They have attended leadership camps and workshops and they are already using these skills. They have learned what it means to volunteer and to take pride in their country and their village. The community of Singerei has already noticed the difference in their youth and the youth have noticed the differences in themselves. All Peace Corps volunteers have special gifts and the hearts to share these gifts. They have unselfishly given up twenty seven months of their lives to help others. Where do they get their generosity and strength to make this sacrifice? I know where Sharon gets her love of others and her desire to serve. She gets it from her mother, Susan.

Editor's Note: Some of the claims in this post have been disputed. :)

This is for my Romanian and Moldovan readers (I know you guys are out there, however few you may be!) For the rest of you - sorry, but I'm not in a translating mood. :)

A little background - our region has a bi-weekly youth newspaper called "New Generation." It started last year and the leadership approached me to write a column talking about differences between American and Moldova cultures. Seeing where that could lead to problems, I counter-proposed them that I would write a cooking column - listing American recipes that are possible to be made in Moldova. So far it's been a huge success. My host mom and I make them before I write them up, so that she can help me with the Romanian cooking verbs. It's funny to see her reactions to the ingredients - for chocolate chip cookies "Sharon, you made a mistake, it doesn't need THAT much sugar..." - for apple crisp "But you forgot to write how to make the dough... and you want to put OATMEAL in DESERT!" and - "everything in one pot?" with chili.

But people have made them - they stop me on the street and tell me they like them. Once due to a typo in a recipe for Granola, we had a few kitchen incidents that had people putting 2.5 cups of oil into the recipe instead of .25. Oops.

This is the last recipe I wrote - it will appear tomorrow. I thought I would share it with those of you who can read it.

Bon Apetit! :)
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Am inceput sa scriu aceasta rubrica pentru ca sa va impartasesc putin despre cultura americana voua, cei care ati impartit cultura moldoveneasca cu mine in acesti doi ani de zile. Vroiam sa va transmit lucrurile care eu le stiu, si anume recete care le pregatetim zi de zi pentru masa in America. Poate nu sunt sofisticate, dar sunt destul de importante pentru mine, sunt o particica din ceea ce sunt. Sper ca v-au placut. In caz ca nu ati incercat sa le faceti pina acum, incercati acuma. Sunt gustoase. Va promit.

Am avut placerea sa fiu aici, dar nu numai atit, am invatat foarte mult – mi-am deschis inima la alte pareri despre lume si chiar mi-am schimbat viziunea. Eu stiu ca niciodata nu voi putea sa vad lumea cu ochii unui moldovean, dar in viitor, eu nici nu voi privi lumea prin prisma americanilor. Eu sunt afectata de parerele voastre, de viata voastra; eu le iau in consideratie cind ma gindesc la orice. Cred ca voi, care ati petrecuit mult timp cu mine, ati fost si voi afectati de mine. Dar sper ca – pozitiv. Ar fi bine sa gindim cu totii ca niste cetateni, dar nu doar ca moldoveni sau americani. Cred ca acesta ar fi un pas destoinic spre intelegerea intre popoare, un pas mai puternic decit este redat in filme sau massmedia. Vreau sa multumesc fiecaruia pentru ajutor, pentru cuvintele frumoase de incurajare, pentru lucrul care l-ati facut, si ajutorul care mi l-ati acordat. Deci, in continuare voi transmite receta care am invatat-o aici, in speranta ca o veti folosi in viitor.

Inainte de a veni in Moldova, imi era frica – nu de a trai intr-o cultura noua, o tara noua sau de a vorbi intr-o limba noua – dar imi era frica sa fiu asa de departe de familia mea, prieteneii mei, de a ma simti singura. Dar nu s-a intimplat asa. Datorita voua, mai ales Maria, mama mea gazda, Nadaya, partnera mea si buna prietena, si baietii si fetele de nadejde de la consiliul local al tinerilor in Singerei, au fost doar clipe de singuratate. Si in final ma simt in Singerei ca la mine acasa. Dar vreau sa ma repet: Ma simt ca acasa, cu familia, intr-un loc care doar 2 ani in urma n-am stiut ca exista. Daca acesta nu inseamna progres, atunci eu nu inteleg ce este progres.

Iata si receta - Pace Mondiala

Ingrediente
- Tineri energici, deschisi, din doua sau mai multe culturi - virsta nu conteaza, trebue sa fie tineri la suflet.
- Timp (mult) – cit este necesar.
- Rabdarea (dupa gust si stilul fiecaruia)

Optional
- Jocuri
- Mult umor, haz
- Bomboane (in special, ciocolata)

Directie
Eu nu sunt sigura de procesul pentru a face pace mondiala, nici n-am incercat s-o fac. Doar am vazut ca este posibil. STIU ca este posibil si incepe simplu de la doi oameni. Doar trebuie sa ne intelegem – sa petrecem timpul impreuna – sa mincam impreuna – sa stam la o masa - si vom gasi o limba comuna, un scop comun. Poate aceasta suna prea idealistic, dar adeverat. Eu astept ca voi sa aflati receta exacta. Cind o aflati, o folositi, o impartiti, voi astepta si eu sa simt rezultatul lucrului vostru chiar si in America.

Pofta Buna, Viata dulce, si sa ne mai vedem in viitor!

6 days left.

6 Ways I have become a “moldovanca” since living here...

1) I never go to people’s house empty handed anymore – even if it’s just a short visit. I bring apples, wine, baked goods, or candy

2) Tights under my jeans – and other innovations in warmth have just become second nature by now.

3) I carry plastic bags with me EVERYWHERE I go - who wants to pay for a bag at the market?

4) When making appointments or engagements, I remember I need 30 – 45 minutes to walk there.

5) Don’t see a need to refrigerate eggs anymore

6) Feel like it is perfectly acceptable to ask personal “prying” questions to people – I have a right to know this stuff!




6 Ways I have retained my Americaness through these past 2 years

1) Dirty shoes still don’t offend me

2) I am not afraid of getting sick from the “current”

3) I still relish in my personal space and quiet, alone time

4) I do not think mayonnaise and sour crème go with every meal.

5) My shoes are comfortable and not stylish – still don’t walk around in high heels, to the disgust of many of my friends here.

6) I tend to still have a positive outlook – I may have thought I was a realist, but when looking at the bigger picture, Americans tend to be optimistic in a way that almost no other culture (that I know of) is.

A BUS RIDE
We looked forward to our visit to the winery in Milestii Mici, that Sharon highly recommended . We took a taxi to get to Milestii Mici from Chisinau, because we tried the public transportation system in Chisinau. It was an adventure, but definitely not something that we wanted to repeat. The bus that we took reminded me of the buses that you would see on a National Geographic show. No one was actually hanging out the doors and windows , but I wished I had been. When we got on the bus, it was only crowded. With each additional stop more and more people crowded in and no one got off. The influx of more passengers, pushed us further and further into this very close space. We could only move if someone else shifted just slightly, as a result we became very “ friendly” with our other travelers. The windows were closed. Sharon explained that the draft from open windows was thought to make you sick. This was apparently an old wives tale that was held by most of the populace. By this time, I wished everyone had considered a shower before they had gotten on the bus. It seemed as if each person was carrying large sacks , filled mostly with produce. They were probably on their way to the piazza. The man with the sack of sticks and limbs was probably on his way to…??? After we opened our mouths and the passengers looked at our clothing , we were the Americans no one could take their eye off . As a result, we were pushed closer and closer together until I was sitting on a large sack of something I couldn’t identify. When I exited the bus, it seemed as if I was a cork exploding from bottle of champagne. Every day was a new adventure that we would not have changed for anything.

MARIA AND THE WINERY AT MILESTII MICI
We were going to meet Sharon’s first host Mom at the winery and I was a little anxious. Maria knew Sharon for more than 2 years and now she was going to meet some of Sharon’s American relatives. What were Maria’s opinions of us going to be? Maria had invited us to stay with her; in fact, Sharon said that Mara had insisted that we stay with her. When we met Maria at the winery, we were greeted with open arms and a beautiful welcoming smile. Maria had arraigned a private tour of the winery for us with an English-speaking guide. The winery was incredible. The outside of the tourist center was a huge fountain . It was designed to look like bottles of red and white wine pouring wine into wine glasses. One side of the fountain poured red and the other white. What fun! Maria is the winery’s biochemist in charge of maintaining the quality of the wine. Both the winery and Maria had won international medals for their wine. The medals were displayed proudly on the walls of the winery’s museum. Entering the winery was overwhelming. We faced 50 kilometers of wine. Only one third of the available underground space was currently being used. Can you imagine? The temperature was a constant 52 degrees F. A refreshing temperature for this Texan. The winery contained 1.5 million bottles of wine and 400 million (you did read that right) liters of wine. Americans are not aware of Moldovian wine because of import/export problems. Can you imagine what the output would be if these restrictions were lifted? What a boom to their stagnant economy. Our taxi driver joined us on our tour and he had no idea that such a treasure existed in his country. I found this hard to believe. I think this was an indication of a prevailing mindset of a many of the citizens. They had great pride in what was their own private personal realm but however ,no awareness of their own country’s wonders . (Editors Note: Or simply can't afford it. The wine cellar, unfortunately, is geared towards foreign travelers, and is out of the reach financially of most Moldovans).

When we arrived back in Chisinau, we rented a car so we could get around better. The international driver’s license we needed was known as a VISA Card. Now Curt would be driving with all the speeding Moldovian drivers. Sharon navigated and I sat in the back and watched the country go by during our return trip back to Milstein Mica Turning off the single main road, we faced narrow, deeply rutted country dirt roads. The houses were all hidden behind tall decorative metal fences. It was impossible to see the houses. When we opened the gate to Maria’s home, it was like entering a villa. We passed under an arbor that was weighed down with delicious, ripe purple grapes. We had to sample more and more as we walked. Maria had beautiful gardens, both flower and vegetable. Like the rest of her neighbors, she also raised chickens and had a plot of land not far from her home, which she cultivated. Maria had water well in the front yard and an outhouse in the side yard. I am not sure if they were far enough from each other, if you know what I mean. All the homes and public buildings that we visited had outhouses. Now, these were not your typical American outhouses. There were no seats, just a 6-inch hole in the ground. This was not the ideal situation for an old, arthritic, over weight American woman who was also suffering from “tourista”. Maria took compassion on me and let me use her newly installed bathroom that was not used often. For the reasons mentioned above, I was the exception. Even with Sharon’s translation, I never could understand why the toilet was not used. I believe it had to do with the difference between the gauge of the pipes in the house and the pipes running to the outside. (Editors Note: there is no real "piping" running in and out of the house - thus when you use the bathroom inside, it needs to be physicall emptied).

Maria’s home was sunny, neat, and clean and since her son was working in Moscow, there was room for us to have our own room for the night. Maria had recently up dated her kitchen with new cabinets and granite look counter tops. Her apartment sized appliances were also new, even the microwave Maria’s position at the winery allowed her to have a better quality of life than most of her neighbors. When Maria arrived home we started on dinner, I helped the best I could. Women worldwide are the queens in their own kitchens and work faster without help than they could with help. We enjoyed a delightful meal outside on the patio. Maria gave us some wine as a gift. Along with the wine, she gave us a towel. A towel is always given when a gift is presented. This tradition was “ lost in translation” to me and perhaps not known by Maria herself. Maria was our first introduction to the warm generous people of Moldova.

Many of you have asked me the reaction of average Moldovans to Obama's election. That is their reaction, plain and simple. Not pro or con, just an observation that they can't help stating.

The word on the street here is that "America is going to change a lot." Not sure where they are getting that information - or what kind of change the average Moldovan is looking to see from America - but that is the feeling here, that a "new leaf" is being turned over. The Romanian radio stations seem to be supporting this - but truth be told - i haven't heard anything from the Russian news stations about the elections since they happened.

In general, I have found that Moldovans are very interested in American politics. Explaining the electoral college has been extremely challenging to my Romanian vocabulary. Often enough people ask me about Bush "Ce mai face Bush?" as if I know him -- and once a police officer asked me about Condi. They know American politics - and they laugh at "ignorant" Americans who cannot even name their president - or laugh at Americans getting caught up in things like the Obama's new puppy (Yes, that news made it here). They understand, however, that what happens in America affects them - and not so much the reverse. They do get annoyed, however, that we seem to know nothing about Russia. The feeling here was pretty against McCain from the beginning because of his "offensive behavior towards Russia."

I tell Moldovans that this is not something on the average American's mind - how Russia feels. They found that hard to beleive, it being such a big country. We are, worlds apart. And this American, for one, is excited to move back into the non-Russian influenced hemisphere. Can't wait.

With barely a week left in Moldova, I am half going crazy, half sad and half very excited. I know, that's three halves. I have more emotions right now than normal - so I get an extra half. I've said it before -- something I will miss in Moldova is sincerity - people take the time to be extra, extra nice to you - and words are heavy here - you say something, you mean it. If you don't say something, what's your problem, dude?

So here are the top 7 things people have "toasted" me for in Moldova. (Instead of a simple "cheers" toasts are personal, include wishes for future, health, and the state of the world. And they happen pretty often).

1) My health
2) The health of my family
3) The health of my future children
4) To find love - not someone beautiful, but someone who understands you
5) To stay how you are, always
6) Happiness, wealth and success.
7) Most recently - that we will meet again, and soon.

10 more days in Moldova.

Here are 10 Romanian words I am most likely to use everday when speaking (or trying to) English upon return to America.

1) hai! - used in any context to mean "come on.." or "let's go"
2) Pentru, Prin, cum, ca ... and other prepositions
3) asa - the moldovan equivalent of "like," basically a verbal filler
4) poftim - general interjection to express confusion
5) si - and?
6) scuza - scuse me
7) ce? - what?
8) Oye, aye, and Opa - verbal expressions like "oh man..."
9) fac - verb for I'm doing
10) magazin - easy to slip in because it is an English word, but in this sense, it means "store"

After three hours on the road, we arrived at the airport in Chisinau. No
pit stops! We were instructed by our Texas travel agent that we were to be
met by the Moldovan travel agent who was to take us to the hotel and give us
our first class tickets for the train to Romania. Remember for later, that
I said first class. We looked and waited to see the Moldovian agent who was
to have our names on a sign. An hour later when we had given up hope of
finding our agent or of finding anyone who could speak English, God sent us
a surprise angel disguised as our niece, Sharon. It had been five years
since we had seen Sharon. Way too long! Sharon is now fluent in Romanian
and was soon on the phone with our long lost travel agent. They said that
they weren't informed that they were to pick us up and they didn't have our
train tickets. But In only twenty minutes the agent was there to pick us up
and produced the first class train tickets. The Hotel Leogrand Was first
class all the way. The room, the service and the food was wonderful.

We spent the next day exploring the city. Chisinau on the whole was
crowded, gray and unkempt. We saw the Peace Corps building , which was on a
lovely shaded street. Across the street was the new Romanian consulate.
People were lined up and down the street waiting for their turn to apply for
a visa, either for a family visit or for a job opportunity. Sometimes they
waited for days. There was construction work on the same street. The
workers were hand digging trenches to install water lines. The workers and
the visa waiters were very intermingled; for there was no place for them to
get out of each other's way. People were sitting all over, including on
hills of dirt piled in the street. Everyone seemed to accept their
situation as normal and inevitable. Never again will I complain about
waiting on line at the post office or DPS.

We visited the piazza ( market place). The crowds were overwhelming. People
were gathering around the stalls that sold household goods and clothing. The
quality of which was very poor, a poorer quality than we would find in the
dollar stores back home. The market aisles were packed with people and
moving cars and trucks, and the vehicles were not moving slowly or paying
any attention to the pedestrians. In fact one car came so close that it hit
my purse which I had been carrying on my shoulder. I am very thankful that
it was a large purse.

The craft area was filled with lovely handmade gifts. We did buy several
items, including a beautiful hand crocheted cap for Ivy Marie. Many of the
babies and toddlers wore them. We also found some old military pins that we
bought for our grandsons. When we got home, we discovered that we were
victims of a slight of hand and one of the medals was switched for a plastic
reproduction. Oh well, that could happen anywhere.

The food stalls were filled with an abundance of beautiful fresh produce of
all types. In between the produce stalls old (?) women were attempting to
sell two or three over ripe apples. To whom do you give? To whom do you
help? There are just too many.

To be continued...
To be continued...continued...

My two years in Moldova have dwindled down to two weeks… two weeks! That’s 14 days. So, to mark the occasion, here are 14 things I will miss about Moldova.

1) Fresh fruit and veggies – in the garden, on the side of the street… want grapes? Just go outside and pick them.

2) The night sky. Without both light pollution and tall buildings, the sky over my village is a spectacular site – and huge – not only is it full of stars, but you can actually see the shifts in the star field with the seasons, because there is so little interference.

3) Speaking/thinking/expressing myself in a foreign language on a daily basis. Yes, it is challenging. But it is a challenge I’ve come to like.

4) Being walked home, all the time. Everyone here walks everywhere. After dark, no matter where I am – working at our center, at a party, or visiting a friend, someone will walk me home – to my door, even if it is 30 minutes out of the way. No comparison to dropping someone at their front door and speeding away.

5) Doing work that matters – yeah it’s frustrating at times, but I enjoy feeling that what I am doing is “making a difference.” When I get home I will have to take any job … and I have a feeling it’s not going to have the same level of satisfaction.

6) Mamaliga. Kind of like Polenta. Only the best grain this side of the Atlantic.

7) My host family / friends / colleagues. The people who have made this experience real for me. Enough said.

8) Weather related excuses. I’m not sure what job in America would accept me not coming in because it was raining and I didn’t want to get muddy. Or it was just too cold.

9) Being special. Yeah, everyone looking at you gets old. But being the-odd-one-out, and having people start conversations with you just because you are an American, has a certain draw to it.

10) Aggressive Hospitality. Moldovans do not make dates they don’t intend to keep. They don’t casually invite you over. They take you by the hand, drag you down the street, and pour food down your throat. In Moldova, people make sure you are neither hungry nor lonely.

11) Being able to take a walk in the fields and not come across another human being for hours… And they say the globe is overpopulated.

12) Seeing farmers, driving horse drawn carriages, talking on cell phones. This always makes me laugh. That, or seeing these same carriages, get passed by bmws on the high way.

13) Home made everything. Jam, honey, soft taco shells, cheese, tomato sauce made from our own tomatoes.

14) Sincerity. Not to say that all Americans are BS loving, sarcastic fools. Maybe we have just become too dependent on Hallmark to say things for us. But Moldovans are SO SO SO sincere when wishing you a safe trip, when thanking you for something, or celebrating your birthday. Not only do they wish you many more years of health and happiness, they bless your parents, your unborn children, anyone you work with. And the tone of their voice is so honest. It's almost like nothing I can say back has the same effect. So I usually cop out, smile, and say - you too.

Since I have been in Moldova, besides random couchsurfers, the only "foreign" visitors I have had (as in not other Peace Corps Volunteers), have been my Aunt Maryanne and Uncle Curt. Since I have been writing on this blog for two years, and my opinions have been influenced by my accumulated time here, I thought it might be interesting to allow them the chance to post about their impressions on their short time (5 days) in Moldova. Perhaps it can give a fresh perspective to this blog. They were here in the end of August.

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Arrival

Our Arrival Arriving in Moldova was full of challenges. Leaving from Odessa, in the Ukraine, we were to fly into Chisinau. When we arrived at the airport in Odessa to catch our flight, the Russian airlines, Aerosvit, informed us that there were no flights to Chisinau. What??? We have paid and confirmed tickets for our flight. Not to worry, we were told, we have a van and driver to take you to Chisinau. So we were directed to a gentleman, who had documentation from the airlines (thank goodness) and a small car of unknown make. Through a translator, we were ensured that this was the correct arrangements and that he would get us to Chisinau safely. I asked the translator, If we would be making any pit stops along our 3 hour journey. Our driver, we never did get his name, just rolled his eyes in disgust. How could I could ever think of inconveniencing him. Our thrill ride through the country was harrowing, extremely narrow roads, extremely bumpy roads, extremely reckless drivers and unheard of speeds under these conditions. Since there were no white lines indicating passing zones, vehicles hurled themselves head on without any thought to the two Americans who were praying out loud in the back seat. Oh, how I wished for an OS handle.

We arrived at the border of the Ukraine and Moldova. The driver cut in line. I don't know what he was thinking. He only succeeded to make the border guards and custom inspectors very angry. Curt and I slid further down in our seats to become as inconspicuous as possible. The welcoming committee looked like jack booted thugs carrying billy clubs and who knows what else. After taking our passports, they returned to check the car and trunk not once but three times. Each time by a different and more ferocious looking fellow. The most ferocious one looked us over very carefully, had me remove my sunglasses and then had a heated conversation with his pals. I guess they don't get many Americans crossing at this border. Our driver never said a word to anyone.

Starting our journey into Moldova, we passed lush fields and rolling hills. The highway was lined with large beautiful trees. Under the trees were farm women , peasants actually, dressed in head scarves and with aprons over their long skirts, not a single bright color did they wear. They were hitting the trees with long sticks that reached up to the highest branches. We drove for many miles before we saw children of all ages under the trees gathering what we thought were nuts. Walnuts, we found out later. The families used horse carts to carry large sacks of walnuts home. Our silent driver continued his harrowing driving, never once slowing down for the families or their carts. I realized that these families were harvesting the nuts to supplement their diet.

I soon understood that the drab clothing the women wore were a true reflection of the lives they lived and the hard work they performed every day just to survive. The children were young. Were these women their grandmothers or their very tired and worn out mothers? I never asked anyone this question.

(to be continued... )