The eyes’ of winter are upon us, and it’s hard to believe that I have been here for half a year already. In some regards time has flown by, and that not that long ago I was in intense language lessons and anxiously waiting my site announcement. On the other hand, I have felt the time crawl by minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour. At times I feel as if I am living in a parallel universe, or somewhere in between, and can’t seem to find a way out. Slowly, but surely, I am becoming accustomed to living here and I am excited to see what a new season will bring.
This was my first Thanksgiving away from home and as much as I tried to suppress my yearning to be home, it still found a way to creep back in. This weekend I went into the capital and met up with most of the other volunteers here. We were able to go out, have some laughs, play football, and eat a Thanksgiving feast together. I’m glad I went, and I would have been down in the dumps if I hadn’t have gone, but it simply didn’t feel like Thanksgiving. A lot of the volunteers made dishes and brought it to the meal, and it was almost like I was tasting a little bit of everyone’s Thanksgivings from back home, yet none came close to the tastes, sights, and smells that I associate with Thanksgiving at my parent’s house.
I’m sorry that this has been such a short blog post. My host mother is very sick and I’m trying to pick up the slack and help in any way I can. As for now I have to fetch more firewood. Peace.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thanksgiving
I’d like to start this blog entry off saying happy birthday to my mother. Throughout this journey she has been there encouraging and inspiring me to do my best. She has definitely helped pull me through some dark moods while here, and I cannot thank her, and my family enough. Mulți ani și mult success inainte. Fii sanitos.
The weather here has been unseasonably warm, but I’m not complaining. The days have been averaging 13 degrees Celsius and nights around 0 degrees. Perfect fall weather considering I thought it was going to be snowing everyday and I would be a popsicle already. This past Saturday I went to my friend MacKensie’s village for hram, which I found out is the celebration of the village’s patron saint. His village, Chiștilniștă, celebrates hram on St. Michael’s day, as well as a lot of other villages from what I heard. The weather was really nice- the sun was shining, the air was crisp, and it wasn’t bitterly cold. I hopped on a bus headed to the capital, but since his village is off the main road by about 18 kilometers, I had to get off and blaze a different route. Since it was so nice outside I decided to stretch my legs and walk through two small villages before I stuck my thumb out for a ride.
The village that I went to is actually one of the largest in my raion with about 4,300 people. The gravel top road getting there was pretty tore up, and I suspect that in the wintertime it might be quite difficult to traverse. When I finally got a ride, the guy asked me where I was from and was absolutely shocked when I replied “America”. Some of the best conversations I’ve had now in Moldova have been with strangers that pick me up on the side of the road. It seems they are baffled that they just picked up an American that speaks their language (or tries to at least) in the middle of nowhere and they can’t help but be intrigued and probe to see what the hell I’m doing here.
When I got to my friend’s house, his little old baba made me feel right at home and made food appear out of nowhere; before I knew it we had a spread of meat, fish, potatoes, ratchatouri (cold meat in jello), fruit, bread, and dessert in front of us. This little old lady was awesome and carried around a pitcher of homemade rachui (distilled wine that has been turned into straight hooch that DEFINITELY puts some hair on your chest) around wherever she went forcing people to be happy and take a shot. Lots of family ended up coming over, and another volunteer that is our raion-mate joined us later that day for the celebration. It was a legit masa, decked out with food covering every square inch of tabletop, with several rounds of food coming in hot from the kitchen. It seems customary to start dinners off with a glass or two of champagne, move onto wine, and then to make sure you’ve got a good buzz they bust out the cognac or rachui. After the masa ended around 11, we wobbled down to the casa de nunta (wedding reception hall) in the center and danced the hora for a couple hours. The dancing was fun, but I can’t help but feel like a jackass when I dance the hora and somehow manage to screw up a seemingly easy dance. To make matters worse, all Moldovans are inherently good at dancing and start learning the hora before they are out of diapers and so all the Americans dancing their national dance is quite the spectacle for them. Mark my words, by the time I finish my service, I will be a horing machine.
The next morning we got up early for an 8:30 breakfast and had a repeat masa from the night before. Leftovers were spread out on the table in the same arrangement as the night before, and the baba kept coming by making us take shots of the devil’s water. After breakfast we decided to take a tour of the village. It was strange feeling walking through the foggy streets, buzzed off instant coffee and 150 proof homemade liquor, checking out the monastery and other sights. We had to make it back to the house for noon to make the bus that was going to pick us up so we wouldn’t have to hitchhike back to our villages. Once on the bus, MacKensie’s host mom came charging on with pitcher in hand and peer pressured everyone on the bus to take a shot, driver included. Once we got going, one of the old ladies that had been at our masa busted out a monstrous bottle homemade wine, and of course, kept filling the cup and passing it around until everyone on the bus drained a large shot glass. The driver was the last one to get the glass, but it would be impolite if everyone was drinking and he wasn’t, so hai noroc! I had to get off in the town Orhei to go grocery shopping, and I’m glad I got off that party bus when I did, I don’t think I could make it all the way to Chisinau.
This is completely unrelated, but remember what I said in my last blog post about garlic and onions helping the flu? In the New York Times this week there was an article about how the Moldovan army ordered tons of extra garlic and onions to help ward off the swine flu. I told my host mom about the article, and since then I have noticed we’ve been eating an unordinary amount of both. You eat whole garlic cloves here, and after dinner I make a beeline straight for the bathroom to brush my teeth. I’m going to have to cut that out if I decide to leave my village and see other people.
This week has been uneventful except for a couple unfortunate occurrences. We didn’t have running water for over a week, and when you run or go to the gym everyday, well you can imagine the odor. When we finally got the water back, I desperately needed to wash my clothes and figured I would give our Russian washing machine a whirl. I’ve never seen more buttons on an electrical appliance than on that washing machine, but it looked like it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out. There was one tiny problem however- it was all in Russian. Long story short, I now have a load of dark clothes that fit a midget. Fantastic.
The other thing that happened to me roughly follows the same theme and it took place when I was showering last night. I consider myself quite fortunate to be placed in a house with running water and a hot shower that I can use when the water actually decides to work. The bathtub is really slippery and when I was trying to soap my back I slipped, went crashing down pulling the curtain and rod with me, and the worst part is that I had the detachable shower head in my hand and the cord broke, causing water to start spraying EVERYWHERE. While lying there naked, wrapped in a shower curtain with water misting across my face I realized that I have the worst luck because this is not the first time I have slipped in the tub in Moldova. On the way down I smashed my head against the back of the tub, and now have a huge lump and a headache that won’t go away. Not only that but I ruined my hot shower amenity, and am going to be bucket bathing from here on out.
Speaking of a headache, it’s starting to pulsate and I’ve got to type up the December action plans for work. I would go into detail about my projects, but they are pretty stagnate right now and I am in the process of looking for financing for my greenhouse project. I can find tons of grants for US farmers, but none to start a project in Moldova. There’s got to be a way, and if there is I will figure it out. If worse comes to worst, I’m a walking tax deductible and will be hitting you all up for donations.
I hope each and every one of you has a very happy Thanksgiving, no matter if you are reading this from America, Europe, Asia, or Africa. I may not be with friends and family from back home this year, but I will be there in spirit. Thank you to everyone for all your supportive emails, letters, phone calls, text messages, care-packages, and messages on this blog. You all are truly my inspiration and sounding board, and even if I have never met you before, but you decided to respond to a post, thank you. Lastly, I would like to thank all my fellow Peace Corps volunteers- whether you are a RPCV or currently serving, I admire your courage, your dedication, and whether you realize it or not, you have made, and continue to make a difference. Thank you for helping make this world a better place.
On my walk down the main highway in Moldova.
Cool little road leading to the unknown.
Hey there buddy!
Random little church I found on the side of the road.
MacKensie's turkys with blue paint on them. I call them the Blue Meanies
MacKensie's yard and his mean man-eating geese
Barn and casa mare
Pretty sure this is a corn crib, but I remember reading in books as a kid that people would sleep in their corn cribs (Where The Red Fern Grows is a good example). This just doesn't look comfortable.
The basement with the preservatives for winter and the wine barrels in the background.
Cows are coming home.
Round one of the masa
Not really sure where this bridge came from.
Monastery
Crucifix
La joc doing the hora at the casa de nunta
The weather here has been unseasonably warm, but I’m not complaining. The days have been averaging 13 degrees Celsius and nights around 0 degrees. Perfect fall weather considering I thought it was going to be snowing everyday and I would be a popsicle already. This past Saturday I went to my friend MacKensie’s village for hram, which I found out is the celebration of the village’s patron saint. His village, Chiștilniștă, celebrates hram on St. Michael’s day, as well as a lot of other villages from what I heard. The weather was really nice- the sun was shining, the air was crisp, and it wasn’t bitterly cold. I hopped on a bus headed to the capital, but since his village is off the main road by about 18 kilometers, I had to get off and blaze a different route. Since it was so nice outside I decided to stretch my legs and walk through two small villages before I stuck my thumb out for a ride.
The village that I went to is actually one of the largest in my raion with about 4,300 people. The gravel top road getting there was pretty tore up, and I suspect that in the wintertime it might be quite difficult to traverse. When I finally got a ride, the guy asked me where I was from and was absolutely shocked when I replied “America”. Some of the best conversations I’ve had now in Moldova have been with strangers that pick me up on the side of the road. It seems they are baffled that they just picked up an American that speaks their language (or tries to at least) in the middle of nowhere and they can’t help but be intrigued and probe to see what the hell I’m doing here.
When I got to my friend’s house, his little old baba made me feel right at home and made food appear out of nowhere; before I knew it we had a spread of meat, fish, potatoes, ratchatouri (cold meat in jello), fruit, bread, and dessert in front of us. This little old lady was awesome and carried around a pitcher of homemade rachui (distilled wine that has been turned into straight hooch that DEFINITELY puts some hair on your chest) around wherever she went forcing people to be happy and take a shot. Lots of family ended up coming over, and another volunteer that is our raion-mate joined us later that day for the celebration. It was a legit masa, decked out with food covering every square inch of tabletop, with several rounds of food coming in hot from the kitchen. It seems customary to start dinners off with a glass or two of champagne, move onto wine, and then to make sure you’ve got a good buzz they bust out the cognac or rachui. After the masa ended around 11, we wobbled down to the casa de nunta (wedding reception hall) in the center and danced the hora for a couple hours. The dancing was fun, but I can’t help but feel like a jackass when I dance the hora and somehow manage to screw up a seemingly easy dance. To make matters worse, all Moldovans are inherently good at dancing and start learning the hora before they are out of diapers and so all the Americans dancing their national dance is quite the spectacle for them. Mark my words, by the time I finish my service, I will be a horing machine.
The next morning we got up early for an 8:30 breakfast and had a repeat masa from the night before. Leftovers were spread out on the table in the same arrangement as the night before, and the baba kept coming by making us take shots of the devil’s water. After breakfast we decided to take a tour of the village. It was strange feeling walking through the foggy streets, buzzed off instant coffee and 150 proof homemade liquor, checking out the monastery and other sights. We had to make it back to the house for noon to make the bus that was going to pick us up so we wouldn’t have to hitchhike back to our villages. Once on the bus, MacKensie’s host mom came charging on with pitcher in hand and peer pressured everyone on the bus to take a shot, driver included. Once we got going, one of the old ladies that had been at our masa busted out a monstrous bottle homemade wine, and of course, kept filling the cup and passing it around until everyone on the bus drained a large shot glass. The driver was the last one to get the glass, but it would be impolite if everyone was drinking and he wasn’t, so hai noroc! I had to get off in the town Orhei to go grocery shopping, and I’m glad I got off that party bus when I did, I don’t think I could make it all the way to Chisinau.
This is completely unrelated, but remember what I said in my last blog post about garlic and onions helping the flu? In the New York Times this week there was an article about how the Moldovan army ordered tons of extra garlic and onions to help ward off the swine flu. I told my host mom about the article, and since then I have noticed we’ve been eating an unordinary amount of both. You eat whole garlic cloves here, and after dinner I make a beeline straight for the bathroom to brush my teeth. I’m going to have to cut that out if I decide to leave my village and see other people.
This week has been uneventful except for a couple unfortunate occurrences. We didn’t have running water for over a week, and when you run or go to the gym everyday, well you can imagine the odor. When we finally got the water back, I desperately needed to wash my clothes and figured I would give our Russian washing machine a whirl. I’ve never seen more buttons on an electrical appliance than on that washing machine, but it looked like it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out. There was one tiny problem however- it was all in Russian. Long story short, I now have a load of dark clothes that fit a midget. Fantastic.
The other thing that happened to me roughly follows the same theme and it took place when I was showering last night. I consider myself quite fortunate to be placed in a house with running water and a hot shower that I can use when the water actually decides to work. The bathtub is really slippery and when I was trying to soap my back I slipped, went crashing down pulling the curtain and rod with me, and the worst part is that I had the detachable shower head in my hand and the cord broke, causing water to start spraying EVERYWHERE. While lying there naked, wrapped in a shower curtain with water misting across my face I realized that I have the worst luck because this is not the first time I have slipped in the tub in Moldova. On the way down I smashed my head against the back of the tub, and now have a huge lump and a headache that won’t go away. Not only that but I ruined my hot shower amenity, and am going to be bucket bathing from here on out.
Speaking of a headache, it’s starting to pulsate and I’ve got to type up the December action plans for work. I would go into detail about my projects, but they are pretty stagnate right now and I am in the process of looking for financing for my greenhouse project. I can find tons of grants for US farmers, but none to start a project in Moldova. There’s got to be a way, and if there is I will figure it out. If worse comes to worst, I’m a walking tax deductible and will be hitting you all up for donations.
I hope each and every one of you has a very happy Thanksgiving, no matter if you are reading this from America, Europe, Asia, or Africa. I may not be with friends and family from back home this year, but I will be there in spirit. Thank you to everyone for all your supportive emails, letters, phone calls, text messages, care-packages, and messages on this blog. You all are truly my inspiration and sounding board, and even if I have never met you before, but you decided to respond to a post, thank you. Lastly, I would like to thank all my fellow Peace Corps volunteers- whether you are a RPCV or currently serving, I admire your courage, your dedication, and whether you realize it or not, you have made, and continue to make a difference. Thank you for helping make this world a better place.
On my walk down the main highway in Moldova.
Cool little road leading to the unknown.
Hey there buddy!
Random little church I found on the side of the road.
MacKensie's turkys with blue paint on them. I call them the Blue Meanies
MacKensie's yard and his mean man-eating geese
Barn and casa mare
Pretty sure this is a corn crib, but I remember reading in books as a kid that people would sleep in their corn cribs (Where The Red Fern Grows is a good example). This just doesn't look comfortable.
The basement with the preservatives for winter and the wine barrels in the background.
Cows are coming home.
Round one of the masa
Not really sure where this bridge came from.
Monastery
Crucifix
La joc doing the hora at the casa de nunta
Monday, November 16, 2009
Gripa
Well, inevitability, it has come to Moldova. The pandemic A H1N1 has reached this remote part of the world and has already infected 630+ people and has taken five lives. Last week I decided to watch the movie 28 Days Later, and because I had nothing else to do, followed it up by watching 28 Weeks Later. After that I got online and read an email Peace Corps had sent us saying that the swine flu had breached Moldova’s borders and that extreme caution was to be taken. Needless to say, it was a strange feeling to have just spent 3 and a half hours watching movies about a deadly virus and then get this email.
Schools were out on fall break for the first week of November, and because of the gripa (swine flu), schools were closed for an additional week. Everyone you talk to now seems to be concerned about the swine flu, and many are taking quite drastic prevention methods. As for the scientific accuracy of these Moldovan anti-gripa methods, I can’t say, but they are quite amusing.
Moldovan flu prevention methods:
* Wear masks when in big cities
* Tie cloth soaked in alcohol on every doorknob
* Wipe your feet on towels soaked in alcohol at the entrance of the schools
And the most important-
*Eat lots of garlic, onions, spicy food, and lemons
As my sister pointed out to me yesterday on the phone, the ingredients sound like the essentials for a crawfish boil. At my gym yesterday I had to inquire at the reasoning of 50 raw onions placed around the room, and was told “Pentru gripa” –For the flu, in an almost mocking manner suggesting a “Duh, you stupid American” was to be followed. Other possible answers that I probably would have taken more serious would have been “Vampires” and “Werewolves”.
This past weekend I had friends come in town and we ended up staying in the village next to mine where I helped kill the pig last week (If you haven’t checked out the pictures already, check out the entry from last Friday the 13th and follow the link. The album is pretty much a chronicle of the entire event; needless to say it gets a little gory). Last night while at a masa we met the richest guy in the village and he promised to bring us to his sand factory this morning to check out a dinosaur fossil they found fifteen meters underground. He also promised me to go wild boar hunting, but I’m not sure if that’s going to happen since he got loaded last night and didn’t wake up in time to show us the factory before my friends had to leave. All in all the weekend was great. I’m glad I had a chance to catch up with good friends. We got to check out the discotec, a tobacco factory, a new water tower project that another PCV implemented, and had several masas with Moldovans. Good times.
Tonight at 11:30 is the peak of a meteor shower that I’m going to try to check out, but after the three days of entertaining and running off minimal sleep I’m feeling pretty rundown. My host mother told me that we are going to be having garlic and onion mashed potatoes for dinner just in case I’m coming down with the gripa. Sounds delicious da? Hai devii.
Schools were out on fall break for the first week of November, and because of the gripa (swine flu), schools were closed for an additional week. Everyone you talk to now seems to be concerned about the swine flu, and many are taking quite drastic prevention methods. As for the scientific accuracy of these Moldovan anti-gripa methods, I can’t say, but they are quite amusing.
Moldovan flu prevention methods:
* Wear masks when in big cities
* Tie cloth soaked in alcohol on every doorknob
* Wipe your feet on towels soaked in alcohol at the entrance of the schools
And the most important-
*Eat lots of garlic, onions, spicy food, and lemons
As my sister pointed out to me yesterday on the phone, the ingredients sound like the essentials for a crawfish boil. At my gym yesterday I had to inquire at the reasoning of 50 raw onions placed around the room, and was told “Pentru gripa” –For the flu, in an almost mocking manner suggesting a “Duh, you stupid American” was to be followed. Other possible answers that I probably would have taken more serious would have been “Vampires” and “Werewolves”.
This past weekend I had friends come in town and we ended up staying in the village next to mine where I helped kill the pig last week (If you haven’t checked out the pictures already, check out the entry from last Friday the 13th and follow the link. The album is pretty much a chronicle of the entire event; needless to say it gets a little gory). Last night while at a masa we met the richest guy in the village and he promised to bring us to his sand factory this morning to check out a dinosaur fossil they found fifteen meters underground. He also promised me to go wild boar hunting, but I’m not sure if that’s going to happen since he got loaded last night and didn’t wake up in time to show us the factory before my friends had to leave. All in all the weekend was great. I’m glad I had a chance to catch up with good friends. We got to check out the discotec, a tobacco factory, a new water tower project that another PCV implemented, and had several masas with Moldovans. Good times.
Tonight at 11:30 is the peak of a meteor shower that I’m going to try to check out, but after the three days of entertaining and running off minimal sleep I’m feeling pretty rundown. My host mother told me that we are going to be having garlic and onion mashed potatoes for dinner just in case I’m coming down with the gripa. Sounds delicious da? Hai devii.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Discotechs and birthday parties
Buenos dias! An unusual warm front has swept through Moldova and I actually saw the sun for the first time in about a month. It has definitely helped my spirits. This winter should be very interesting; I’ve started to stockpile vitamins to combat the Seasonal Affective Disorder that is a problem in Moldova and for Peace Corps Moldova volunteers. I was trying to get information from my partner about the amount of sunlight in the winter, because it is quite relevant for my solar panel greenhouse project and for my general curiosity, and he simply replied “Nehlu, don’t worry. Spring will be here in April and you will have all the sun you want.” Not exactly the answer I was looking for.
Today is my host mother’s birthday and the women are busy in the kitchen preparing a feast for a party that starts in two hours. I wanted to help, but instead I was seated at the table and assumed the role of taste tester. No problem on this end, it felt like Thanksgiving back home, yet sadly no turkey. What amazed me most is that the ladies prepared enough food to feed all of Russia and then some, and they did it all with no running water. Next time you are trying to host a party try preparing everything with no running water, two knives (very dull and not serrated), two pots, one pan, and an annoying foreigner in your kitchen butchering your language. Bine ați venit la Moldova.
To tell you the truth, I would really like to be curled up in my bed taking a nap right now instead of prepping myself for a long day at the masa. Last night I was somehow talked into going out to a discotech in a small village next to mine called Verejeni. Dancing until four in the morning with Moldovans to Michael Jackson techno remixes in a lazered out, fogged up, discotech that looked like a cave is one experience I wouldn’t trade for the world. The celebrity status that we enjoy here when we’re out and about is quite fun. It’s going to be weird going out in America and not having the owners of the place invite me to their table and spoil me with attention and anything else I want. After last night’s debauchery, I rolled out of bed (all Moldovan furniture turn into beds-it’s amazing) at 8:30 and hitchhiked back to my village just in time to buy the last bouquet of flowers in the market for my mama gazda.
The pictures below are from the village I was in. It was the first time I visited there, and was very impressed. The village is set 2 kilometers off the main road and it’s a beautiful walk through the valley past horses and goats, over a bridge, and up a hill to the village. My desire to move to a smaller village continues, and this one made a very good impression on me. I was able to talk with a man that works at the mayor’s office that wants to undertake a major project with my organization to help define the property rights in the area. It is a big project, and it plays a critical role if development is to occur. After the large, Soviet collective farms, called kolhozes, were dismantled the land was given to each member of the village and/or kolhoz. The system was a bit chaotic and there is still a huge problem with unclear title and property rights. If you think about the difference between developed and developing countries, I bet that you will find that developed countries all share the characteristic that property rights are defined and there isn’t this wild-west mentality over who owns the land. I would love to help with the implementation of this project and it would significantly increase future possibilities for the region, the producers, and the citizens. With the state of the economy, the country is in desperate need of foreign investments, but what firm would want to invest in a place where the title of ownership is unclear and can be retracted on a whim?
The rest of this week has been relatively quiet. I’ve spent most of my time researching irrigation, green energy, rabbit farms, and greenhouses while trying my hand at day trading on the stock market (to an extent). It’s amazing the amount of free time I have on my hands when the only schedule I have revolves around meals. I have gotten myself into the bad habit of watching television series that I downloaded onto my external hard drive. The series Deadwood so far has consumed my nights for the past week and a half. I’m trying to get back into reading more, but the book I’m currently reading about the history of a Russian village is a tad dry (yet interesting), and I can only take about 30 minutes before I have to put it down. I’m determined not to abandon it, but at this rate the fate of the book doesn’t look too bright.
Since it’s cold now I’ve started going to the gym more instead of running. The gym is pretty sparse, but it has the basics and I’m happy. The owner of it is Domnul Volva, a tank of a man that insists I start Arnold Schwarzenegger’s bodybuilding routine from the 1980’s. This past Friday he was quite boisterous about it, and kept shoving the old magazine (written entirely in Russian) at me, and insisted that I follow it. I respect the fact that he is thirty years my senior, but there is no way I’m doing fifty squats in a Smith machine and ruin my back. When in doubt I usually give people the “N-am inteles”-I don’t understand, and do what I want. He caught on pretty quick, and flipped out and yelled at me in Russian to do what I want, just don’t expect any help from him again (this is the edited, clean version). I was okay with that, although in no way was it my intention to make him loose his temper, and I turned my iPod on and proceeded to have a great workout Upon leaving, we reconciled and both apologized, a rare occurrence between Moldovan men, and am glad that I didn’t loose one of the few friends I have in my village.
My exhaustion and hunger have reached monumental heights, and it has taken me two hours to write this entry. I wish the party wasn’t going to take place in my room, I really need to rest my eyes for a minute. I realize I do a bad job of taking pictures here, and I promise I will work on that. Here are a few to keep you entertained:
Another volunteer's house
My gym
Outside of my gym
Random pack of turkeys that roam outside of my apartment
My host mothers birthday party.
* I found that you can click on the pictures to make them bigger. It helps for the landscape shots.
Today is my host mother’s birthday and the women are busy in the kitchen preparing a feast for a party that starts in two hours. I wanted to help, but instead I was seated at the table and assumed the role of taste tester. No problem on this end, it felt like Thanksgiving back home, yet sadly no turkey. What amazed me most is that the ladies prepared enough food to feed all of Russia and then some, and they did it all with no running water. Next time you are trying to host a party try preparing everything with no running water, two knives (very dull and not serrated), two pots, one pan, and an annoying foreigner in your kitchen butchering your language. Bine ați venit la Moldova.
To tell you the truth, I would really like to be curled up in my bed taking a nap right now instead of prepping myself for a long day at the masa. Last night I was somehow talked into going out to a discotech in a small village next to mine called Verejeni. Dancing until four in the morning with Moldovans to Michael Jackson techno remixes in a lazered out, fogged up, discotech that looked like a cave is one experience I wouldn’t trade for the world. The celebrity status that we enjoy here when we’re out and about is quite fun. It’s going to be weird going out in America and not having the owners of the place invite me to their table and spoil me with attention and anything else I want. After last night’s debauchery, I rolled out of bed (all Moldovan furniture turn into beds-it’s amazing) at 8:30 and hitchhiked back to my village just in time to buy the last bouquet of flowers in the market for my mama gazda.
The pictures below are from the village I was in. It was the first time I visited there, and was very impressed. The village is set 2 kilometers off the main road and it’s a beautiful walk through the valley past horses and goats, over a bridge, and up a hill to the village. My desire to move to a smaller village continues, and this one made a very good impression on me. I was able to talk with a man that works at the mayor’s office that wants to undertake a major project with my organization to help define the property rights in the area. It is a big project, and it plays a critical role if development is to occur. After the large, Soviet collective farms, called kolhozes, were dismantled the land was given to each member of the village and/or kolhoz. The system was a bit chaotic and there is still a huge problem with unclear title and property rights. If you think about the difference between developed and developing countries, I bet that you will find that developed countries all share the characteristic that property rights are defined and there isn’t this wild-west mentality over who owns the land. I would love to help with the implementation of this project and it would significantly increase future possibilities for the region, the producers, and the citizens. With the state of the economy, the country is in desperate need of foreign investments, but what firm would want to invest in a place where the title of ownership is unclear and can be retracted on a whim?
The rest of this week has been relatively quiet. I’ve spent most of my time researching irrigation, green energy, rabbit farms, and greenhouses while trying my hand at day trading on the stock market (to an extent). It’s amazing the amount of free time I have on my hands when the only schedule I have revolves around meals. I have gotten myself into the bad habit of watching television series that I downloaded onto my external hard drive. The series Deadwood so far has consumed my nights for the past week and a half. I’m trying to get back into reading more, but the book I’m currently reading about the history of a Russian village is a tad dry (yet interesting), and I can only take about 30 minutes before I have to put it down. I’m determined not to abandon it, but at this rate the fate of the book doesn’t look too bright.
Since it’s cold now I’ve started going to the gym more instead of running. The gym is pretty sparse, but it has the basics and I’m happy. The owner of it is Domnul Volva, a tank of a man that insists I start Arnold Schwarzenegger’s bodybuilding routine from the 1980’s. This past Friday he was quite boisterous about it, and kept shoving the old magazine (written entirely in Russian) at me, and insisted that I follow it. I respect the fact that he is thirty years my senior, but there is no way I’m doing fifty squats in a Smith machine and ruin my back. When in doubt I usually give people the “N-am inteles”-I don’t understand, and do what I want. He caught on pretty quick, and flipped out and yelled at me in Russian to do what I want, just don’t expect any help from him again (this is the edited, clean version). I was okay with that, although in no way was it my intention to make him loose his temper, and I turned my iPod on and proceeded to have a great workout Upon leaving, we reconciled and both apologized, a rare occurrence between Moldovan men, and am glad that I didn’t loose one of the few friends I have in my village.
My exhaustion and hunger have reached monumental heights, and it has taken me two hours to write this entry. I wish the party wasn’t going to take place in my room, I really need to rest my eyes for a minute. I realize I do a bad job of taking pictures here, and I promise I will work on that. Here are a few to keep you entertained:
A Moldova taekwondo club
Another volunteer's house
My gym
Outside of my gym
Random pack of turkeys that roam outside of my apartment
My host mothers birthday party.
* I found that you can click on the pictures to make them bigger. It helps for the landscape shots.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Zi de zi
Question: What happens when you leave thirty kilos of grapes scattered throughout your room for a month?
Back at site. Bittersweet. It’s nice to be back home, but PST was fun and it was good getting to go to school everyday and be with friends. My Romanian has gotten better, that’s for sure. I find myself not talking as much Romanian, or any language for that matter, some days as I would like when I’m in my village. It is quite easy to amble throughout the day getting by on basic Romanian without getting into any riveting conversations where I explore the depths of my newly acquired linguistic abilities. Sometimes I wish I lived in a smaller village. Take today for instance, I have learned a couple new words here and there (I’ve already forgotten them because I forgot to write them down), but I haven’t really needed to speak much.
Here’s what my day looked like:
7:00am- Woke up, ate breakfast with the fam, and bummed around the house for awhile and finished watching a movie.
9:00am- Went to work for a total of 20 minutes to say hello to my partners and make flash cards. They were speaking Russian to some people that came into the office so I was excluded from that convo.
10:00am- Met with the director of economic development for ten minutes about the grant I translated. Romanian was solely spoken so that was good. He taught me the word “cupici de casa”-house slippers.
10:20am- Went to the piața, bought some pimp cupici de casa. They even have a “P” on them. I was informed that these are necessary in the wintertime. I agree, I haven’t taken them off for hours.
10:30am until 4:00pm- Ate lunch with the fam, then spent four and a half hours scouring the internet, in English, for project ideas in agriculture. Came up with an idea to start seminars about financial planning for rural farmers, the need to collaborate with the mayor’s office with the importance of pastureland management (the mayor’s offices owns the pasture land, and because of poor management practices the land and the livestock are suffering) and developed further ideas about greenhouses and irrigation.
4:00pm till 5:00pm- Went to the gym, only said a couple sentences in Romanian because the dude there speaks Russian.
5:00pm till dinner: Talked even more English to my mom in the states and then found out how to type in Romanian on my Mac.
6:30- 7:30- Dinner. Talked about rabbits in Moldova, got a brilliant idea to start a rabbit farm in my village because the meat is very hard to come by here, and it’s farte scump when you can get it, somewhere around 30 dollars for a big rabbit, yikes!
8:00pm until 8:30- Received a call from a friend back home. More English was spoken.
8:30pm until 10:30- Helped my host mom insulate all the windows here for winter. The whole time we just talked about how cold it gets, how she won’t let me freeze to death, why we need fireplaces when we have gas, etc etc.
10:30- Writing a blog, and of course using more English, and realizing that I am never going to be fluent if I continue at this inadequate rate of Romanian usage. My flash card stack is getting to be as high as Mount Kilimanjaro though.
As you can see, some real captivating stuff, which is making me wonder why I’m writing this in the first place when I just posted something two days ago. I really just wanted to let everyone know about my grapes, err, raisins now in my room…
Fact: Fruit flies outnumber you 1,000,000,000,000 to 1. My host mother looks at them and says, “Oh my God, what are we going to do about these bugs?” and leaves it at that.
Back at site. Bittersweet. It’s nice to be back home, but PST was fun and it was good getting to go to school everyday and be with friends. My Romanian has gotten better, that’s for sure. I find myself not talking as much Romanian, or any language for that matter, some days as I would like when I’m in my village. It is quite easy to amble throughout the day getting by on basic Romanian without getting into any riveting conversations where I explore the depths of my newly acquired linguistic abilities. Sometimes I wish I lived in a smaller village. Take today for instance, I have learned a couple new words here and there (I’ve already forgotten them because I forgot to write them down), but I haven’t really needed to speak much.
Here’s what my day looked like:
7:00am- Woke up, ate breakfast with the fam, and bummed around the house for awhile and finished watching a movie.
9:00am- Went to work for a total of 20 minutes to say hello to my partners and make flash cards. They were speaking Russian to some people that came into the office so I was excluded from that convo.
10:00am- Met with the director of economic development for ten minutes about the grant I translated. Romanian was solely spoken so that was good. He taught me the word “cupici de casa”-house slippers.
10:20am- Went to the piața, bought some pimp cupici de casa. They even have a “P” on them. I was informed that these are necessary in the wintertime. I agree, I haven’t taken them off for hours.
10:30am until 4:00pm- Ate lunch with the fam, then spent four and a half hours scouring the internet, in English, for project ideas in agriculture. Came up with an idea to start seminars about financial planning for rural farmers, the need to collaborate with the mayor’s office with the importance of pastureland management (the mayor’s offices owns the pasture land, and because of poor management practices the land and the livestock are suffering) and developed further ideas about greenhouses and irrigation.
4:00pm till 5:00pm- Went to the gym, only said a couple sentences in Romanian because the dude there speaks Russian.
5:00pm till dinner: Talked even more English to my mom in the states and then found out how to type in Romanian on my Mac.
6:30- 7:30- Dinner. Talked about rabbits in Moldova, got a brilliant idea to start a rabbit farm in my village because the meat is very hard to come by here, and it’s farte scump when you can get it, somewhere around 30 dollars for a big rabbit, yikes!
8:00pm until 8:30- Received a call from a friend back home. More English was spoken.
8:30pm until 10:30- Helped my host mom insulate all the windows here for winter. The whole time we just talked about how cold it gets, how she won’t let me freeze to death, why we need fireplaces when we have gas, etc etc.
10:30- Writing a blog, and of course using more English, and realizing that I am never going to be fluent if I continue at this inadequate rate of Romanian usage. My flash card stack is getting to be as high as Mount Kilimanjaro though.
As you can see, some real captivating stuff, which is making me wonder why I’m writing this in the first place when I just posted something two days ago. I really just wanted to let everyone know about my grapes, err, raisins now in my room…
Fact: Fruit flies outnumber you 1,000,000,000,000 to 1. My host mother looks at them and says, “Oh my God, what are we going to do about these bugs?” and leaves it at that.
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