There are porkypines in my backyard!

June 21, 2009 PM

Imagine that every second, of every day, you are misunderstood. I feel like my basic needs and wants have been lost in translation. My highs are high and I feel like I’m on top of the world, but my lows are unfathomably low. I’ve given up Moldovan pizza; it is the catalyst that ruined my relationship with my vacheo (outhouse). It is easy to dismiss the notion that if you grow up in circumstances like the ones here in Moldova that you get used to it. Not true. The Moldovans know life is hard for them, and it is probably the same way in all underdeveloped countries. I have taken my comfortable lifestyle for granted, and am finally seeing life from the other side of the mirror.

June 22, 2009
I feel a lot better this morning. Last night was pretty rough on the stomach, and it definitely affected my mood. I had one final “Oh shit” (quite literally) moment this morning and could barely put clothes on and run outside to the outhouse I had to go so bad. I’m stealing one of my favorite terms from management classes, but it was undeniably J.I.T. Now let me fill you in on how I roll in the vacheo; I’ve improvised the “crab” and like to have one hand on the back wall for a little leverage. I’ve tried the “catcher”, but it’s not for me. However, I may have to switch because I encountered a major problem with my posish when I crashed through the back wall of the outhouse with my pants around my ankles and a roll of TP in the other hand. Jesus Christ what a wake-up call at 7am. Fortunately I was finishing up my business, because I was so startled that I probably would have shit my pants, err self, if it would have been three minutes earlier. I’m going to place the blame on the cheap, Moldovan plexiglass material used to build the torture box, instead of my technique because I can get down in a concrete outhouse, no joke. I tried explaining to my host mother what happened, but she grabbed the dictionary from my hands, closed it, and commanded me to eat my breakfast (spaghetti and fried egg) and then went back to bed. I ran off to class shortly after and told my teachers what happened, who are supposed to be our ambassadors if we have any problems, but all they could do was laugh hysterically. They claimed that they would call and explain what happened for me and reaffirmed that everything would be all right. My host family hasn’t mentioned the gapping hole in the back of their outhouse, so either they are saving me an extremely embarrassing moment or they haven’t seen it yet. Time will tell. I just know that my entire village will know me as the American that falls ass-backwards through outhouses. Super.

Anyways, I hope everyone finds this situation as amusing as I will. I know that there is a couple letters en route for me and I really appreciate everyone that has sent cards and letters. However, I found out that these probably won’t reach me, but the packages will. If you think the US Postal Service is bad, and anyone that has stood in line at the post office can attest to this, at least they aren’t opening envelopes in search for money. I love getting snail mail, I haven’t gotten any yet but I know that I love it already, so when you send letters put a big dollar sign on it with an X through it. They say this is the best method; just make sure to stuff it full of Benjamin’s when you do this. This time a happy birthday email or comment on the blog will make do…