Question #1

I should tell you the funny story about Question #1 (“Moldo-what?”).

In 1994, I was traveling from Moscow to Chernovtsy, Ukraine, which involved crossing through Moldova. The ticket agent in Moscow assured me, most vehemently, that I would NOT need a transit visa as the train wouldn’t even stop in Moldova. I was skeptical, but by then, I knew enough about Russian culture to realize that there was no way I was going to get a transit visa, no matter how much I wanted one. “It had been decided” that I wouldn’t need one.

If you thought the Soviet Union was bureaucratic, try going through three mini-Soviet Unions in one trip. Customs going out of Russia, customs going into Ukraine, customs going out of Ukraine, customs going into Moldova, customs going out of Moldova, customs going back into Ukraine. And of course, at the Moldovan border at 2 am, they saw my American passport and said I had to go to Kiev, 12 hours away, to get a transit visa. Konechno; of course. Well, of course, a few American dollars made that problem go away, but I was tired and irritated. The Moldovans always had a special place in my heart after that, the special place I reserve for an especially strong dislike. I’ve cursed Moldova for 10 years.

And so, konechno, imagine my delight when the PC placement officer said I’d be going to Moldova. I laughed out loud. Yes, I suppose after 10 years, it’s time I gave the Moldovans another chance.

Throughout this past year applying to PC, I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to return to Eastern Europe or to go someplace entirely new and different. I love Russia and Eastern Europe, and it’s familiar. But something new and exotic had appeal, too. Moldova is the perfect placement for me. Well, let’s clarify that. It clearly has the bitterly ironic, strangely coincidental quality that I love about Russia (the “but of course you only sell tickets to Kiev from 1-2 pm on the third Thursday of odd-numbered months” quality), yet it’s Romanian background and influence will be entirely new for me. And while I had romantic ideas of the “exotic” life riding elephants or eating food that might still be moving, I will instead learn to live with the lovely euphemism of “rustic.” I’m a city girl about to spend 2 years living “rustic.” In Moldova.