A Winter Worth a Thousand Words

What historical references would one have to have to claim that a winter will be the coldest in 1,000 years? The rumor as of late in Moldova is exactly that- this will be the worst winter in a millennium. This has been hard for me to wrap my brain around; maybe because I am already suspicious of daily weather reports, much less weather-claims dating back before the Crusades even began. If this holds true I will have lost all faith in my Eastern European Lonely Planet guidebook. Quoting purely from memory, “Moldova has temperate summers and mild winters.” Bullshit. I might have to make the switch to Frommers if this winter does shape up to be worst than last. Maybe it’s my southern heritage, but there is just something about a cold, gray winter day that lets you savor a bad mood.

I’m noticing a trend that I like to start off each blog post talking about the weather. I attribute that to fact that this is my go-to conversation with strangers in this country. It should be interesting to see how it all plays out. I distinctly remember my host mom telling me last spring that it was going to be a cool summer because we had such a cold winter. Tell that to all my shirts with permanent deodorant/sweat pit stains showing through under each arm. Either way it’s a win-win situation for me this winter. It’s either going to be bone numbing cold and I’ll have an extra little swagger in my step knowing that I can make it through two of the worst Moldova winters predating the Magna Carta, or it won’t be so bad and I won’t be constantly speculating how much longer by toes have got before they get frostbite.

Time has been flying by. I came to the realization that I have a hair over nine months left in Moldova. I’ve still got a long list of things on my Moldova To-Do list, and much of it has to do with harvesting and wine making. I guess I had better get to it. Even after nearly 16 months in country I still get the reply “Neal, you don’t want to go work out in the fields. It’s dirty and it’s hard. Go enjoy your time with your friends” whenever I ask my partners and friends if I can help. I’m not going to candy coat it- this hurts and is somewhat insulting. I know that they see this as a chore, but living and working as Moldovans live is one of the main reasons I joined the Peace Corps. It seems like the only chance I have at getting my hands dirty are by walking into the fields and asking a random stranger if I can help. Ninety-nine percent of the time these people are thrilled that they get free labor and I’m sure one day I’ll get strapped to a plow and that will be the last I see of the farmer. It would be nice one day to be able to help out without having to go through my windup speech of how this crazy America ended up out in the middle of nowhere, speaking pigeon Romanian, and asking to help cut corn.

I have decided that if I’m not going to be in the fields picking grapes this weekend, I might as well be enjoying the fruits of the labor. A friend and I are going to visit Chateau Vartley, one of the major wineries in Moldova that is conveniently located about an hour from me. This will be the first time going there for me so I’m pretty excited. I will be sure to include lots of pictures to make you all jealous the next time I blog. Fiți sanitoș!

What happened to fall?

Hello all. Much has gone on in Moldova since my last update. I feel like this slow Sunday evening is a good of time as any to send out an update. The changing of the weather has been a force to be reckoned with as of late. The weather has been overcast, cold, and rainy for the past two weeks, which has induced a melancholy affect on my mood. The looming presence of winter scares the shit out of me, because in no way am I prepared to battle six months of well-below freezing temperatures, snow drifts, ice patches, and canned veggies quite yet. All I can do now is sit tight, shut up, and hold on.

Several weeks ago I hosted a get together for what turned out to be nine fellow PCVs for my village’s hram. I had a great time, and I’m glad that I was able to show off my village to my peers. I might have overextended myself because my house was a rockin’ 24/7 for nearly four consecutive days with almost a dozen Americans. It seems like everyone enjoyed themselves though, and my friend Vascia that lives in a small village nearby really helped escalate the festivities by inviting us all to his family’s house for a Moldovan masa and lake swimming afterwards. The next day there were concerts in the center of town and I had the opportunity to give everyone a taste of Louisiana’s world famous Cajun cookin’. I must say though, after four days of hosting guests in a house that has hidden quarks, lack of sleep, and lots of cooking and cleaning, I was utterly exhausted afterwards. In many ways I’m glad that there is only one big event in my town a year, because I think my days of hosting that many people at my house are over.

I’m still traversing mountains at work. We are finally wrapping up the orphanage-heating project that started at the beginning of the summer, which has been a slight nuisance because I have been trying to open up another grant of the same type, but can’t have two out in my name at the same time. So, that is good news. Also, my search for finding a donor(s) for a rural health clinic has provided several potential financiers. All I have to do now is put the finishing touches on the project proposal and we are rocking and rolling. With the impending winter it seems like everyone is scrambling to get their crops harvested, finish on-going projects, and buckle down all the hatches.

As of late, I’ve had a renewed interest in cooking. I’ve stolen my mother’s gumbo and jambalaya recipes and have been using my friends as test subjects to perfect the Moldova-Cajun infusion. If anyone is reading this in country and feel like giving your taste buds a wake-up call, then hit me up. One thing that shows that I probably have too much free time on my hands is because I’ve found that making a vegetable broth, and then using that to cook rice in, elevates the flavor two-fold.

Since it has taken several days to actually write this blog post, I am sitting at work right now listening to a meeting with all our agriculture consultants in the other room. These monthly meetings are always interesting to observe from an outsider’s perspective because they will be yelling at each other for two hours, and then once the meeting ends and the masa is setup, they turn back into the best of friends. Sometimes I like to run out before the meal gets going, because I usually like to avoid midday wine, cognac, sausage, and cake. I’ve been feeling slightly removed from reality lately so I think I might stick around for this one. Happy trails everyone. Noroc.

Back to It

The following pictures are from Mereni, Moldova where I helped out with a childrens camp my friend Dan put on in his village. Poftim:

Walking to Dan's, another PCV, house.

Girl's got an arm on her.

Attempting kickball.

Choosing teams.

Sharing experiences in the classroom.

The human knot!

Gathering everyone together for an activity.

Choosing the site for Sports Day at a children's camp.

Ah yes, alas, a new blog post. I recently returned home to the States for a brief vacation to attend my sister’s wedding. While there I updated most of you (my blog’s readers) in person so you should probably stop reading now (just kidding). Summer is coming to a close and with that means the 95+ degree temperatures are soon to be over, and harvest season will be upon us. That also means all the fresh summer produce is getting thrown into jars of saltwater and stored away in basements; sad thing for me is that I don’t have a basement. I’ve lived through a winter eating nothing but canned foods already, and I’ve got to say, besides the canned peaches it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.

Work wise I have been grinding through the introductory phases of several grants. This is very much a process- at times it can be discouraging, but every now and then the skies open up and the sunlight aluminates our dedication. Other than that, I’ve been teaching a fair amount of computer lessons, and have gotten to opportunity to work with kids in several different summer camps.

As I mentioned earlier, I recently returned from a trip back home. Well, home was only part of it. I spent three days in Baton Rouge, and the rest of the time on Orcas Island off the coast of Seattle. It was great to go home although I overextended myself and was scraping the bottom of the barrel halfway through trying to find the energy just to stand. The place itself is funny; in some ways it seems as if everything has changed, and in others it is exactly the same. I can iterate how much it meant to see my family and spend time with my friends. It was definitely difficult saying goodbye, especially knowing that after every vacation you take you experience a twinge of post-vacation blues. The worst was coming back from Turkey in the winter (In Istanbul it was sunny and 60 degrees, Moldova was -5), and I went through a two-week slump. I can finally say that I have rounded the corner and have experienced a January-in-August moment, and have set new goals and aspirations for my second year of service.

Adjustment back to the village life is actually quite amusing, it’s almost like coming back from the dead in some ways. When I greet people on the street they always, without fail, say “We thought you left for good. How was America? Is it better than here?” My answer to this question is second nature now, and I honestly believe in what I tell them. America isn’t better than Moldova- it’s merely different. Sure the level of development is lacking in Moldova, but the traditions, values, and closeness of the Moldovan culture is something to be admired. You often hear stories of PCVs returning home to America and going through a severe culture shock. I can’t say that’s how it was for me. Sure, I experienced it to a slight degree. It was quite overwhelming hearing English everywhere, flushing toilet paper in the toilets, and the endless amounts of produce in the grocery store, but what really got to me was the realization of how much time we, as Americans, spend in transit. Think about how much time you actually spend in your car per day. I had to run errands over the several days I was home and it is absurd thinking that just running to the grocery store, to a friend’s house, and back was over an hour in the car, if not more. I think back on all the trips to Starbucks for the sole purpose of getting coffee. I mean COFFEE, what the hell, I could have easily put in a filter in my coffee pot, poured in the grinds and water, pressed a button, and within three minutes have a steaming cup of quality joe in my hands (I say quality because when you subsist off nothing but instant coffee, ground coffee tastes like heaven). Instead I, like many others, decided to get in my car, drive 10-15 minutes down the road, pull through the drive thru listening to talk radio, pay nearly five dollars for a coffee, and then take the drive back. Absolutely ridiculous. OK, I’m done ranting.

A week and a half has gone by and slowly I am able to tune out the roosters in the morning, and the dogs at night. Also one of the more prominent indicators that I am adjusting back to village life is that all my clothes are starting to get that worn look again and are probably omitting a slight odor. I guess it’s time to throw them in the garden tub and get to work. Sitting here now I notice a large drip stain on my brand new pants and am paranoid that it won’t come out, no matter how hard I scrub.

I’m at work now and really need to get back on the grind. My village’s hram is this weekend and I am planning on inviting some friends up for the celebration. Refer back to my post from last August about this particular celebration. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures and update you all. For now, adios.

Top of Mt. Constitution. Orcas Island, Washington.

Posh living, no joke

Welcome to the virtual tour of my nattily furnished apartment. Every day it exceeds my expectations and it is crazy to be living in such laps of luxury. First off as you walk up to my apartment building you will see that I am the only apartment with a corner entrance. The picture below is my apartment on the ground floor with the yellow gas line running overhead.

This is a closer shot. My garden is quite verdant right now and I need to get out there and do some serious work with my sapa (hoe).
Even closer...
The view from my patio. There is usually a bunch of chickens, roosters, geese, and dogs running around the yard. The bench in the middle is also a hot spot for me to socialize with my neighbors or read a book.
Another view from my patio. In the pots I've got seedings of cucumber, oregano, cilantro, and basil growing. This is also where I hang my clothes to dry after I hand wash them in the tub.
Below is the first room you walk into upon entering. I usually keep my front door open with the curtain pulled so I get a fresh breeze.
The room wraps around and from this view you can see my work table, my soba (wood/coal burning fireplace that will keep me warm in the winter) and the door leading to my kitchen.
Ah ha! My kitchen. That's right, I've got gaz. The oven doesn't work and the water works half of the time (it either comes out bone white or not at all).
Going through the kitchen you reach my music room. That's right, I've got a piano. It's older than dirt and the keys don't work very well, but I've still got one. In the left hand corner is my deep freezer that I don't use unless I'm having a bunch of people over and need to cool down some piva (russian for beer).
After going through my music hallway it forks into another hallway. To the left is my bedroom, the right is my guest bedroom/greenhouse, and straight ahead is the bathroom. Below is a picture of the guest bedroom.

In the window sill of the guest bedroom I have 8 cherry tomato seedlings growing. They aren't really faring too well right now, but I've got hope...

Turning around and going out the guest room and straight ahead is my bedroom. The rug on the wall sometimes trips me out, but it's too Moldovan to take down. On the left is nothing but closet space, and to the right is a mirror with pictures of family/friends, and a bookshelf.

Lastly, we have reached my bathroom. As you can see I've got a lovely swan tiled mural that helps you drift into a nebulous tranquility when you are taking a bath. Above the tub is my hot water heater that I've named Buster. We don't get along too well because Buster likes to flood the apartment on occasion. I know it sounds weird that I've named my water heater, but I live alone and it seems perfectly normal for me to scold it when I come home and find a lake in my bathroom. Oh PC, thanks for making me weird(er)...

This is another shot of my bathroom to capture all it's glory. When my water doesn't work I use the backup storage tank on the left. It's a catch 22 because this also leaks. Buster has a power cord tail that plugs into the socket in the hall to heat up. It takes a couple hours to heat up enough water for a bath, but the good thing is is that it holds the heat a long time after unplugging it. Usually about a week.

That concludes this tour. Thanks for stopping by. I have another room in the middle which I didn't show you because I don't use it. My landlord has some storage stuff in there, but he said if I have a lot of people come over and need the space I can feel free to use it. I've got plenty of room for company so anyone that wants to take a great trip off the beaten path come on over. I'll be waiting. Norok.

Coffee breaks

Vaca

My host mom posing

Host grandpa with his pigs

The fields are a growin'

Norok oameni. I’ve got a free moment to kill while I’m here at work seeing that I can’t seem to pay attention to the Word document I am working on. I attribute this fact that we just had an impromptu wine, placenta (national dish that is a fried sandwich with either cheese, cabbage, cherry, pumpkin, or potatoes inside), honey, and tomato party in our small conference room. This is a normal occurrence when my main partner Petru is out of town. The lady partner that I work with, Larissa, who is probably the sweetest old lady you could ever imagine once you get to know her, loves to invite her friends in our building over for a midday snack. Also, we occasionally have all our consultants come into our office one or two days a month, and like magic, a large masa full of food and wine appears at the end of the meeting. Business in Moldova revolves around personal contacts, and it is important that you partake in the breaking of bread. For my birthday my partners called me up at 8 in the morning and told me that we had a seminar in an hour. This is a somewhat regular occurrence so I put on my clothes, ate a quick breakfast, and hit the road. Upon getting to work I was greeted by a large table full of traditional Moldovan food and spirits. Gotta love it.

Lately I’ve been getting overrun with workmen and water and gas “controllers”. I’ve been having a problem with my water pipes in my apartment, and like clockwork once I turn on the hot water heater my bathroom floods. My landlord has been calling several different repairmen for this issue to no avail. Also, the gas and water companies have been coming by to check my meters, they call these meter readers “controllers”. I don’t know why they don’t install the meters outside of the houses, especially since these people come at the worst possible times of the day (when I’m taking a nap). I’ve decided to turn it into a tea party, and instead of getting upset that I have people barging in on me at all times of the day, I politely ask if they would like to have coffee or tea with me. To my surprise, I am yet to be turned down. This morning actually I was telling a telephone repairman about my regular visits from the water controllers, and how in America they do it differently. He got a funny look on his face and asked me if I had ever been to America before. I thought he was kidding at first and so I replied “Once or twice”, but then realized that he was dead serious. I took it as a huge complement that after ten minutes of continuous dialogue he couldn’t make me out for a phony butchering his native language.

I’ve been going into the capital regularly for training with the new volunteers. When I returned the other day the gas in my apartment wasn’t working. I figured that I hadn’t paid the gas bill yet so I went to the post office to check and see. As I thought, I had already paid for the gas at the beginning of the month. I figured the gas would come back on within a day or two, because that’s just how things work here. After three days I still didn’t have any gas and I was getting tired of not being able to cook anything. Racking my brain for a way to have a hot meal, I decided that I would try to cook pelmeni (meat stuffed pasta you can buy at the store) in my chainik (water boiler for tea). This method worked beautifully. The second day of me boiling my pelmeni in my chainik my landlord came by and asked me what I was doing; I responded that my gas wasn’t working so I was preparing my noodles in my water boiler. Man, did he laugh at me. He told me that since I had been going out of town so much that he turned the gas nozzle off just in case there was a gas leak. Worst part about it is that the nozzle is about eye level on the wall directly above the stove. Oh cultural differences…

Happy 4^th of July and hopefully everyone has a safe holiday. I will be going to the annual 4^th of July Picnic the US Embassy throws in Chisinau. Last year it got pretty wild with an open bar and a Michael Jackson CD playing on a loop to commemorate his death. Hai devi!

Water Tower pictures

The truck we got to load the PCV pipe for the water project.

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On the left is one of my Ag Extension consultants and on the right is the head of the pipe factory giving us a tour.

Drilling into the aquifer.

The good life

It’s quite a lovely day in this small, tucked away corner of Europe. The sun is shining, the roosters are cockadoodle-dooing, and the kids are merrily playing outside. For the past week it’s been brutally hot, but for the last two days we’ve been getting afternoon storms that have cooled things off a considerable amount. I know that I’ve been slacking with the blog, but instead of weekly posts I will be switching to bimonthly posts.

Last week the new group of volunteers to Moldova arrived, all sixty-nine of them. Ten mentors, myself included, and several people from PC staff anxiously waited for their arrival at the small, janky airport in Chisinau. We were all very excited for the new arrivals, and it was great being able to have a change of perspective and see what we all looked like coming in country only one short year ago. As a joke all, or at least most, of the male volunteers grew mustaches under the pretense that it was for community integration into small villages. Shortly after the newbies arrived you could hear a mummer of “They all have mustaches…” and then finally we started yielding their questions as to why. Most were quite mystified and one guy actually started panicking and saying “I mean I think I could grow a goatee, but I just don’t know about a mustache. Would that work?”

After several days in the capital we packed everyone onto their respective buses and sent them on their way. I remained in Chisinau to prepare a presentation on Social Networking and Communication for Pre Service Training and after nearly a week of being away from home I finally made it back yesterday. It’s really quite odd, but when I’m away from my village for an extended stretch of time I always experience a twinge of anxiety. It only lasts for several hours, and I usually wake up the next morning after a good night’s sleep in my own bed feeling relaxed and at peace. It’s good to be home though, and I’m glad to have saved my potted plants from the brink of dehydration. I have to keep them inside because my landlord told me that they would get stolen if I left them outdoors. I told him the world is more similar than we probably believe.

Right now I’m working on finishing up a grant for a compost demonstration plot I think I have mentioned before. Getting the information from this guy has been harder than getting a kid to take a bath, and I have come to appreciate the American “Let’s get shit done” business mentality. Other than that I am trying to start a kids summer camp that will focus on agriculture, environmental awareness, and volunteerism. The youth of Moldova also fall into the global trend away from the agriculture sector, and it is vital for the sustainability of the country that the youth be taught the importance of modern agricultural practices. Also, after all the environmental degradation that occurred from Soviet policies, they could usea good dose of environmental awareness education. Ideally, I would like to have presentations and interactive workshops teaching the kids about animal husbandry, greenhouses, beekeeping, composting, irrigation, alternative methods and fuels, recycling, tree grafting, and species varities. To finish up the camp I am going to try and get the Primaria (mayor’s office) or the Școala to designate an area that we can help clean up, paint a classroom, etc, to inspire the idea of volunteering in the community (which is nonexistent concept here). If all goes well and the kids have fun, I think it would be really cool to run with the idea and start to start a monthly volunteer club and work on various service projects within the village. If this is going to happen before school starts I’m going to have to kick into high gear, spread the word, get everyone in the community onboard, find volunteers and experts, and fundraise all before I go back to America for ten days in August for my sister’s wedding. Doamne ferește- oh my God.

If you have been following my blog, or at least have read multiple posts, I’m sure you can tell that I really like it here. Life has a slow element that focuses on interpersonal connections, and even though I am still adjusting to the business peculiarities, it has forced me to understand not only my role within my community, but also my role as a human being. I love working with people on a grassroots level, and the constant challenge keeps me stimulated and motivated to continue to work throughout developing countries. I am starting to realize all the possibilities that Peace Corps is opening up for me, and for the first time in my life I have found a passion and a dedication that I didn’t know existed within me. A year ago if you would have told me that I would be thinking about dedicating my life towards international development within developing nations I probably would not have believe you. I had it all planned out that I would graduate from college, go into the Peace Corps for two years, go to law school, start a career, get married, start a family, then thirty-five, forty years later retire. Believe me, there is nothing wrong with that and I’m sure I could be perfectly happy with that lifestyle, but I think I will take a couple detours along the way now and see if I can’t see more of the world. Lately I’ve been thinking about the possibility of extending my Peace Corps service in Moldova, or going into an Environmental Conservation/AgriBusiness program to either The Gambia, Morocco, Tanzania, Mali, Malawi, Madagascar, the Phillipines, Vanuatu, Niger, Benin, Zambia, or Miconesia. It’s pretty cool that I get to basically pick and choose the country (if they will have me) after serving an initial two-year stint in Moldova. The front-runners would definitely have to be Morocoo, Zambia, The Gambia, and Vanuatu. I’ve got about seven or eight months to make my decision so if you, or anyone you know has served, worked, or been to any of those twelve countries PLEASE drop me an email at ncolli2@gmail.com. I am going to pick cherries and work in the gradina. O zi buna!