Happy Halloween!

Yes, we have Halloween in Moldova, although I suspect it�s mostly an American influence. Lots of PCVs working in schools put on Halloween parties for the kids, and several other sub-groups in our trainee group did Halloween events for their community activities. Oh, I need to tell you about our Community Activity! I’ll write that at the end. I wanted first to write on the theme of Moldovan Holidays.

Khram is an important day in every village, as it is the day on which the village church was founded or christened or inaugurated or whatever you call it. Over the centuries, this day has come to be a pretty big celebration for the entire village, and since there are hundreds of villages in Moldova, it’s a pretty good bet that there are a couple Khrams going on somewhere on any given day. The folks in the village will take the day off from working in the fields, any village shops and businesses will close for the day, there’s food and drink, maybe some speeches from the Primar, church pastor and maybe some other important people, there may be a special mass at the church, and the day culminates in a huge dance in the evening that goes on late into the night.

October 14 was Chisinau Day, and this was a huge celebration, and of course it’s conducted quite a bit differently than in the villages. It has more of the feel of a festival that I might see in the U.S. They closed the main street, Stefan cel Mare, to traffic, and set up displays, stages, and booths in the street and all along the sidewalks. Shops set up booths to sell their goods or even give out free samples. Restaurants set up little cafes, prepared special foods on big open grills, and lots and lots of wine was sold and consumed. At night, there was a huge concert and fireworks.

October 27 was Ialoveni Day, but it’s a bit different for a town. Traditionally, Khram was celebrated in villages, and people could just take the day off from their fields. Businesses in Ialoveni itself closed for the day, but many residents commute daily to jobs in Chisinau, and thus many people did not have the day off from work. Nonetheless, the town put on a good event. Ialoveni has some sister-city relationships established with towns in Romania, and the Romanian ambassador came to the morning program. The town received a grant from the Soros Foundation to set up an “Information Center” in the library, which means putting in a few computers and hooking them up to the internet. The computers are in place, but haven’t been connected to the internet yet, but the new center was “unveiled” during Khram. There were speeches, vendors selling food, drink and crafts. The speeches were all in Romanian, so Matt & Emily didn’t stay long since it wasn’t understandable for them. At night, the Cultural House (a place in all towns and villages that is basically a combination recreation center-community center-sometimes library-meeting place-movie house-dance hall) was turned into a discotheque for the night’s dance. That was the night, by the way, when we had the earthquake, and there was a lot of joking about whether or not all the drunk dancers even noticed it. Oh, we later learned the earthquake’s epicenter was about 120 km from Bucharest, Romania, and registered a 6.0. Matt says there are several different scales throughout the world for measuring earthquakes, though, so I have no idea if this is the Reichter scale or not. Emily, the native Californian, woke up, thought “Oh, it’s an earthquake” and went back to sleep. Matt, the army veteran, woke up, thought “I think that’s an earthquake, I should probably go outside,” did an assessment of his room (stacks of coins knocked over, papers shuffled, ceiling light swaying), and went back to sleep. Ann, the native Ohioan, said aloud “what the hell is that?!”, turned off my computer, grabbed shoes and hussled outside with her family. So, decide for yourself what that kind of scale that is. 

Anyway, back to Khram. As it was a holiday for Ialoveni on Wednesday, the schools were closed. Tamara Ivanovna invited me to join her and a small group of teachers who had decided to take a day trip to a women’s monastery (aka convent) about an hour from Ialoveni. We had language class Wednesday morning, but my teacher said it was a great opportunity for me to see a beautiful place, so excused me from class. One of the teacher’s husbands owns a marshuka (aka mini-van), so they offered to drive us all. We left about 7 am, and it was very foggy so there wasn’t much of a view on the drive. We were all kind of surprised when we got to the monastery that it was so busy; we parked at the bottom of the hill and walked a good 10 minutes to get to the entrance. Cars were parked all along the side of the road, and we joined the steady stream of people walking up the hill. This monastery is a both a tourist destination as well as a working religious site, so it’s not uncommon to find groups visiting there, but this seemed an unusually big crowd for a Wednesday. Well, it turns out it was the monastery’s Khram! So, even though I missed Ialoveni’s Khram, I still got to see one, at an actual monastery even. And, it turned out to be quite an event. The Metropolitan (kind of like the Bishop, the highest church official in Moldova) came for the event, and the first president of Moldova after the split from the Soviet Union, President Snegur, was there even! He’s apparently well-known as a benefactor of the church, and some people jokingly call him the President of Churches. It’s especially ironic when you recall that he was a pretty big guy in the Moldovan Communist Party during Soviet times, which means a staunch atheist, at least in public, right? Certainly no one becomes very devout overnight, so you can guess he was a “closet believer” during Soviet times.

We waited with the large crowd, lining the entrance road, for the dignitaries arrivals. The nuns had covered the main sidewalk with freshly cut grass and decorated it with wreaths of freshly cut flowers. It was absolutely beautiful. Many of the nuns were very young, most that I saw I would guess were under 30. The wore long full black habits, which also covered their heads. Only faces and hands were visible. I saw three very old nuns, tiny worn women, who had white embroidery on their scarves and their habits. They were the only nuns to have anything decorative on their clothes, and I asked someone in the crown about it. If I understood correctly (which is always a Big If), they are no longer required to work at the monastery, they pray most of the day, and they eat only communion bread. My guess is that they are the elders of the monastery, with a special place of respect in the community. I wish I could have talked to one of them. It’s always hard to guess old people’s ages here, as life is so very hard and someone who looks to me to be 75 or 80 may really only be 55 or 60. Regardless, these nuns would have lived at the monastery during Soviet times, and I would have loved to hear about their lives. I’m equally interested in the young nuns’ stories as well, though. Generations were raised on atheism, and although many people still were Believers throughout Soviet times, many young people don’t have the strongest connections to the church. I’d love to hear why and how these young woman chose to enter the monastery.

But back to the celebrations! President Snegur arrived first, with his wife. He was presented with the traditional welcoming gift of bread and salt, offered on a beautiful and colorful embroidered cloth (most likely hand-made by the nuns). Eventually, the Metropolitan arrived. He drove up as close as possible to the nuns in a BMW, and he and his “crew” got out of the car with pomp and circumstance. He was presented with the special bread and salt, which he blessed and kissed. Huge bouquets of flowers were also presented to him. Later, I saw his “crew” put it all in the trunk of the Beemer.

The monastery grounds consist of several buildings, some of which I could guess their use. All seemed to have been recently renovated and updated, and all buildings were painted a lovely shade of butter yellow; very bright and cheery even on an overcast and fairly gloomy day. The nuns do all the work for the daily maintenance of life, and we could guess which building had the kitchens, which was a dormitory, etc. As I mentioned, it’s a regular destination for tourists and “pilgrimages” alike, so there were several shops set up to sell little icons and other trinkets. Extra tables had been setup throughout the grounds for this day as there were so many visitors. There is a lovely small church, but they are also constructed a huge new church, so big, in fact, I would classify it as a cathedral. Only part of the stone walls have been constructed so far, but the immensity of the structure was already evident. Because of the huge crowds, they had the service inside the new church. Several icons had been moved from the small church to the shell of the new one, and relics were even displayed for this occasion (I think they’re called relics, right? Pieces of bone from saints, I think). The entire mass took over 3 hours, and did I mention there are no seats in Orthodox churches, completed church or not? People move around a lot during an Orthodox mass, praying at different icons throughout the service, lighting candles in memory or honor of loved ones (I learned that square candle trays are for praying for those who have died, round candle trays are for praying for those still alive).

Tamara Ivanovna and I walked around the grounds for several hours. She goes to church on occasion, and is a Believer, but she is also a pragmatist and doesn’t go in for all the pomp. She was also raised in Ukraine, and thus doesn’t have a strong connection to some of the Moldovan traditions. For example, we saw probably 200 people lined up on a plaza with bread, oil, sacks of flour, bottles of wine, soil from their yards, sometimes even money, set up in front of them. It is a Moldovan tradition to get these things blessed by the priest to bring good fortune and bounty to your family. About 2/3 of what you bring is left to the monastery after it’s blessed, and later in the day, we saw nuns collecting the bread into big baskets, pouring the oil into big buckets. There are about 100 nuns who live at the monastery, and there was WAY too much food left for them to be able eat before it spoiled, and Tamara Ivanovna said they work with an orphanage and will give most of the foodstuffs there and to other needy people in the area. A LOT of money was collected by the monastery that day, though, and it’s clear from the beautifully renovated buildings and the huge church under construction that the monastery is doing well in general, financially I mean. I saw what I would consider “indulgences” being sold; people write the names of loved ones on a piece of paper, give it to a nun with some money, and the nuns will pray for those people. I saw stacks and stacks of these papers piled up at every little kiosk throughout the monastery, and wads of cash. There is also a natural spring on the grounds, which is piped into a small tiled pool. The water is said to be curative, and people were buying liters of it. In warmer weather, people will put their legs into the pool for healing, but on a day like Wednesday when it’s too cold, you can walk the perimeter of the pool 7 times and get the same curative effect. Needless to say, I declined the invitation to partake in the circular walk.

In the afternoon, we stopped in a very small chapel, which was being monitored by an old nun. She asked me what time it was, and of course realized instantly when I answered that I was a foreigner. She asked where I was from, and when I said America, she said something about how we have so many religions there. Tamara Ivanovna told her that my family is Catholic, and the nun started to give me a lecture on how it is important to follow the one true religion. I didn’t understand everything she said, so later Tamara Ivanovna gave me a synopsis: Christians good, everyone else bad. I mentioned to Tamara Ivanovna that this is the thing I find so hypocritical about so many people who consider themselves the most devout Christians — didn’t Jesus teach us to love everyone, and doesn’t being Christian mean loving each other despite our rights and wrongs, similarities and differences? And aren’t Jews, Muslims and Christians all worshipping the same God anyway, as they are the three religions of Abraham? We had a nice conversation about it, and I was happy I didn’t seem to offend her. As I mentioned, she’s a pragmatist, too, and doesn’t go in for all the hype and showiness of the church, but instead prefers a private, more personal relationship with God.

It was an interesting and informative visit to the monastery. I saw 2 famous Moldovans, and might have even shown up in the background on TV as there was a camera crew on hand to tape the events.

On the theme of Holidays, as you might guess, Thanksgiving is not a Moldovan holiday. Peace Corps holds an All-Volunteer conference on that Thursday and Friday, so it will be neat to meet all the volunteers in Moldova, and very nice to know that we’ll be spending a special American holiday with “family” and friends.

On the Orthodox church calendar, Christmas is actually in early January (I forget the exact date, sometime in the first week or so). During Soviet times, as it was not proper to celebrate a religious holiday, many of the Christmas traditions were transposed to New Year’s Eve. Thus, in the former Soviet Union you will find Father New Year (who looks an awful lot like Santa Claus), decorated pine trees, and lots of presents. Christmas is again openly celebrated, but it is a more religious holiday; children might receive a present or two, but adults generally exchange gifts on New Year’s only. The “Western” Christmas, on December 25, is not celebrated per se, but it’s a good excuse to extend the holiday season. So, we’ve been told to not expect much work to occur in the entire country for about a month — offices more or less shut down, people visit family and friends, parties abound. There is a Catholic church in Chisinau, and many Catholic volunteers come to the capital for Christmas mass. We are technically not supposed to leave our sites for the first three months, other than for official PC meetings and trainings, as those first months are critical to our integration into our new communities. We have been told to expect to be invited to lots of parties, we should accept as often as we can as it’s a great way to meet people in the village. Also, there’s just not a lot else to do in the cold dark winter. I expect I’ll come to Chisinau for our Christmas itself, maybe even go to mass.

There are pros and cons to have pre-service training in the autumn and then moving to our sites at the start of winter. It will be dark, cold, and people pretty much just hunker down in their houses until spring, so there’s not necessarily a whole lot to do. On the other hand, the holidays provide us with ample opportunities to get out and about, to learn about Moldovan traditions and customs, and to meet lots of people in our villages. Plus, we can kind of “ease into” our work, and aren’t expected to hit the ground running since no one works much from mid-December to mid-January. I’m looking forward to it all!

Living in a Fishbowl

During our PCV training, we have had numerous conversations about living “in a fishbowl.” Foreigners in general, and Americans in particular, draw a lot of attention, especially in a small village where most people may have never met a foreigner in their lives. There is not a word in Russian for the American concept of “privacy,” and it can be quite a struggle for a PCV to learn to live with all the attention (99% of it is well-meant), again, especially in a small village where absolutely everyone knows everyone’s business. OBS — the radio call letters for “One Baba (old lady) Said.” I mentioned that everyone in Tvarditsa knew by Tuesday morning that I’m a vegetarian, right? Once I’m living there, they probably will also know if I didn’t eat as much today, if I went to Chisinau for the weekend, if I got a package from America, etc. I had another taste of this, though, when staying at Anna & George’s house. The first night, I took a quick shower, but apparently she thought it was abnormally short. About 30 seconds after I turned the water off, she asked through the door if something was wrong, was I having trouble with the faucet or the water heater? Why did I take such a short shower? Of course, she meant well and I wasn’t bothered by the attention or question, but I can certainly imagine that if that much attention is given to my daily routine on a regular basis, it could get irritating!

I’ll have to revisit this topic later, as well, after I have more experience with being viewed “through the glass” of the fishbowl.

The part we haven’t talked about at all during training is the fishbowl we live in right now. This time, I mean the itty bitty, teeny tiny world in which I exist right now. On a daily basis, I speak to exactly 5 people: Alyona, Anya, Viorica, Matt and Emily. It’s great, and damn lucky, that I like all of them so much. The “Russians” apparently tend to have more drama amongst them each year, which I think is perfectly understandable since we are the smallest trainee group, but I’m very glad that we all get along reasonably well. It wears on any relationship to spend so much time together, though. I’ve done pretty good over the last couple of years to try to live by The Four Agreements (a great little book by Don Miguel Ruiz), and I am exploring and realizing this code of conduct in a whole new light here in Moldova. (1) Be Impeccable With Your Word: when you have very few words with which to express yourself, and you aren’t even sure of what you’re saying sometimes, this needs to be interpreted creatively. (2) Don’t Take Anything Personally: in general, I’d gotten pretty good at this one in the U.S., not taking to heart someone else’s attitude or behavior. Here, however, I have found myself inordinately obsessed with to get along with people. Once I put in perspective that it’s just plain hard if 20% of the people in your world (e.g., 1 of the 5 people I interact with on a daily basis) is upset with me, it’s more understandable why I might have a hard time not letting it get to me. (3) Don’t Make Assumptions: if you want to master this one, move to Moldova; absolutely nothing here is as an American expects things to be, so, in a way, the unexpected becomes the expected. I’ll tell you the milkshake story later as a perfect example of this. (4) Always Do Your Best: the most important part of this agreement, for me, is to remember that my best is different every day. Some days I’ll learn all kinds of new words and phrases and even express an intelligent, adult thought or two; other days, I’m lucky if I can tell someone what time it is. There was the time when someone asked me when I had studied Russian before, and I answered 9:00 am. Or the time someone asked how old my parents are, and I said “My mom’s a consultant and my dad works at a bank.” Or the time someone asked if my job was being held for me until I returned to the U.S., and I said “No, I sold my house.” Some days I’m just gonna sound stupid.

Oh, the milkshake story. Emily and I went to a cafe last Friday night, and we saw on the menu milkshakes. It just sounded good, so she ordered a chocolate one, and I ordered a strawberry. After 5 or 6 minutes, our anticipation rising as we swapped stories of the best ice cream places in our hometowns, the waitress finally brought us two tall glasses. She put one in front of me and said Chocolate, and one in front of Emily and said Strawberry. They were both exactly the same shade of white. We gave each other quizzical looks, took a sip, and switched to see if the other one tasted like what either of us had ordered. Another sip, and we decided that this was not exactly what we had had in mind. I’m pretty sure we were served two tall glasses of cold milk, which maybe had been shaken or stirred to produce a little splash of froth on top, and it’s also quite possible a flavor wand had been waved over the top of each glass but most definitely no flavoring was actually put into either glass. Well, we drank our milk, which also was something neither of us had had for quite a while, and headed to McDonald’s for a real milkshake. Every PCV ends up there at one point or another, and I have to admit, the experience was so damn normal, I was completely confused in a whole new way. We all know there is Culture Shock when you visit or live in a different country. There is also Re-entry Shock when you return home (sometimes called Reverse Culture Shock, but I think that’s a misnomer- the reverse of Culture Shock is not being shocked!), especially after a long time abroad. Well, I had a tiny bit of that at McDonald’s where the experience was so very American (the cashier smiled, spoke English, was friendly, joked with us, and filled our orders quickly; not to mention, the strawberry milkshake was exactly what I had hoped it would be, which also means it was exactly unlike what I expected, if you can follow my confusing circular logic).

One more random thought for the day: We are finally learning how to talk about Peace Corps in a normal manner, i.e., vocabulary, phrases, etc. I was so damn proud of myself the other day, I was dying for someone to ask me about Peace Corps! Anya asked something, and I whipped out my flashcard to proudly answer in Russian “Peace Corps is an American governmental organization that helps developing countries.” I stood there beaming, like a school kid who just spelled a tough word correctly in the regional spelling bee. Anya, on the other hand, said “We’re a ‘developing country?’ That’s interesting.” Stupid me had been so busy thinking about how to say something, I hadn’t thought about how it would sound. The Moldovans I’ve talked with about Peace Corps know it well and firmly believe that it is much needed here. I’m sure, however, that Anya won’t be the last person who feels a bit insulted by the notion that they are receiving some kind of “humanitarian aid.” After all, just a short decade ago, they were part of the great and might Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, one of the largest and most powerful nations on the planet, not just technologically advanced but a leader in technology development. Yes, there’s some propaganda in there, but they did put the first man, and woman too, in space. True, Moldova rode on the back of that fame and glory, but nonetheless, it left it’s mark and I suppose not everyone here thinks this is a country that is “developing.” I learned an important lesson from that brief exchange, and I won’t forget it easily.

And my final story to tell for the evening — I’ve just returned inside at 11:59 pm after standing on the street for about 20 minutes. We had another earthquake tonight, this time it came with an aftershock. The folks here bet it was at least a 5, maybe close to a 6. They assure me it’s not so common to experience two earthquakes in less than 2 months, but since I’ve got nothing else to compare it to, I’m hoping this is not something I need to prepare myself to encounter regularly over the next 2 years! Most importantly, no one was hurt, everything is fine. We’ll check the news tomorrow for the official report. Sadly, I know people in Japan were not so lucky. We saw on the news tonight that there was a terrible earthquake there, and we were all so sad to hear of the loss of life and the all the injuries there.

Language

So, why am I learning Russian if I�ll be living in a Bulgarian community? There are many reasons. For one thing, it’s not an uncommon story to hear of the PCV who learned one language and got placed in a community speaking something entirely different. This happens all over the world, and from what I can piece together, I think PCVs learn official languages, which are not always what is spoken in every community, i.e., Spanish may be the official language of Guatemala, but an indigenous community probably doesn’t speak Spanish. I don’t know how PCVs are placed in other countries, but in PC/M, our specific assignments are not decided until after several weeks of training so that the PC staff can learn more about us, our skills, personalities, etc, and can try to make the best placements possible. We three “Russians” were identified at the beginning as obviously we would need a different language program than the rest (who are all studying Romanian), but nonetheless, Sylvia still had those weeks to decide which one of us was best for each of the three Russian-language sites. The applying organizations themselves specify which language(s) is/are needed in their community, and for most, both Romanian and Russian is spoken. In our three communities, however, the populations did not list Romanian as options (my community listed Bulgarian and Russian). And certainly one reason to teach me Russian instead of Bulgarian is the finances — it’s simply too expensive to run a language program for one PCV: materials would have to be developed, an instructor found and paid, etc. And since PC/M already has a Russian language program developed and in place, it’s easier to teach me Russian. And, of course, I’m not complaining about that since I really wanted to master Russian! At least I’ve got a leg up in that the community also speaks Russian. This is a much better situation than, for example, our Country Director who was a PCV in Africa, learned French, and was placed in a community that spoke absolutely no French but instead an indigenous African language! He had to start all over once he got to site.

All of that is just a small part of the question, though. Language is a hot topic in this country, and since I’m fascinated by language in general, this is one more plus for me about Moldova. This country has a bit of a complex about language. Language is so closely tied up with culture, politics, heritage, and self-identity, it is a complicated issue is many parts of the world. Take, for example, the European Union — every document must be translated into the language of each and every member nation as no one wants to “give up” their ethnic/cultural identity/expression in the Union.

The geographical area now called Moldova has been under the authority of other countries for pretty much all of it’s history. It has been ruled by Romania, the Ottoman Empire, Austro-Hungary, and Russia, and that’s just in the past 400 years. Romanian is very common, given the close geographical and historical connections with Romania. Gagauz is spoken by a large population of people descended from Christian Turks, “left over” here from the Ottoman Empire. Russia occupied this territory off and on during the 1800’s and early 1900’s. After WWII, the Soviet Union officially occupied the territory, eventually creating a republic in the USSR called Moldavia and transferring the Romanian language into Cyrillic alphabet and calling it Moldavian. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the name of the country was “un”-Russified and has reclaimed the more Romanian-sounding name of Moldova, as opposed to the more Russian sounding name of Moldavia. The official language of the country is Moldovan, which is exactly the same as Romanian, and the alphabet is again Latin letters. Most people do refer to it as Romanian, but I find it impossible to predict who’s going to insist on calling it Moldovan.

The Soviet Union “transplanted” a lot of ethnic Russians to all its republics, and as Moldova was and is a beautiful country, and was a “land of plenty”, many Russians wanted to live here. Intermarriages occurred, people stayed, and you’ve got a bit of a melting pot that never quite “took.” My own host family is one good example. Tamara Ivanovna was born in Ukraine, and learned only Russian growing up. She came to Moldova after college, and met the man she eventually married, Fyodor Ivanovich. He was born here in Moldova, and grew up learning Romanian. He learned Russian in the army, and when he met Tamara Ivanovna, he wanted to improve his Russian as it was then the official language and very necessary for day-to-day living. Thus, she never formally studied or learned Romanian (she says she speaks it like a dog — understands a lot but can’t say a thing). They speak Russian at home, and raised a son and daughter speaking Russian, although they both studied Romanian in school. My host “mom” Alyona and her daughter Anya identify themselves as Russian, and other people consider them Russians. I can’t get a handle on who is considered Moldovan, versus some other ethnic identify. As far as I can tell, the identity of Moldovan as one’s nationality is not strong, people here identify first by their “ethnicity.” In many ways, this is similar to our confused identities in America, right? We’re obsessed with race and ethnicity, as opposed to considering ourselves Americans. Well, multiply the strong emotion and confusion by tenfold, squeeze it all into a space the size of Maryland, and you’re getting close to what a conversation about language in Moldova is like.
Language is one of the most controversial and hot topics of this country. For some people, Russian is the language of oppression, imposed by the Soviet Union. For others, it’s their cultural heritage as well as the only language they really learned to speak, read and write. Moldovan (aka Romanian) is now the official language, and for many “ethnic” Moldovans (whatever that means!), they want to communicate only in Romanian. There is a bit of a backlash against Russian, and some town names have been changed back to their Romanian names from the ‘Russified’ versions. Take, for example, the capital. In Romanian, it’s Chisinau; in Russian, Kishinyov. Now, granted, most languages have their own way of pronouncing country and city names (Moscow is Moskva in Russian, China is Kitai, etc), so theoretically both versions of the name ought to be able to exist. But Romanianists (a term I just made up for lack of a better way to express myself) are rejecting everything Russian. It reminds me of the French and their efforts to keep their language “pure” (again, whatever that means!). Of course, it’s complicated by the fact that the Romanian spoken in Moldova has not progressed with time, and there are not words for many aspects of modern life. As technology and society changed, words were developed in Russian because that was the official language. So, a Romanian “next door”, a couple hundred kilometers away in Romania, won’t necessarily understand the terms a Moldovan is using for some modern concept, and vice versa.

On the other hand, you can go absolutely anywhere in this country and communicate in Russian. While there is one official language, in practice, this is a bi-lingual country. In fact, in this one small country of 4+ million people, there are at least 3 recognized languages (not necessarily officially recognized by the government, but nonetheless by the citizens, whether they like it or not): Romanian, Russian and Gagauz (a unique language spoken only by the people descended from Turks who live in the Autonomous Region of Gagauzia, which is a whole different can of worms I won’t get into now). All people over the age of 30 speak Russian fluently, but fewer younger people are studying it as seriously as before. It is not uncommon, though, for conversations to be a complete mix between the two languages, and many a time I’ve asked a question in a store and been answered in Romanian — it’s just automatically assumed that everyone speaks both languages, and in practice, probably 90% of people do. Some people, like Tamara Ivanonva, might be more comfortable speaking in one language over the other, and it’s just fascinating to watch a conversation take place with one person speaking Russian and the other Romanian! You may get on one bus with signs all in Romanian, and the next one will be all in Russian. Same with street signs, billboards, menus, etc. Sometimes things are in both languages, sometimes not.

So, how the heck does Bulgarian fit into all of this? From what I understand, Bulgarians came here during the reign of the Ottoman Empire as apparently it was safer here than in Bulgaria. They settled primarily in the southeast part of Moldova, and their communities have maintained their cultural identities throughout the centuries. Tvarditsa seems to be one of the communities with the strongest Bulgarian identity, although everyone there also speaks Russian. They are considered a national minority, and they bring along their own set of political issues with them. I certainly am in no position at this point to make any generalizations or intelligent observations, but I can imagine being a minority in this very small and very complicated country must be challenging. I’ll have to return to this topic after I’ve had some months at my site; hopefully I’ll be able to learn more that I can share with you!

The PCV Role

The excellent questions I received in response to my last posting made me realize I’ve already slipped into “comfort zone” in a new world of terminology, and I need to explain more about the role of the Peace Corps, PC Volunteers (PCVs), and the Economic and Organizational Development (EOD) program in Moldova.

First, Peace Corps has three goals:
(1) To help the people of interested countries and areas in meeting their needs for trained men and women;
(2) To help promote a better understanding of the American people on the part of the people served;
(3) To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of the American people.

Peace Corps is invited to a country by its government, in other words, Peace Corps doesn’t just “show up” and say “Hey, you guys look like you could use some help around here.” When Peace Corps is invited, although I don’t know all the particulars, I imagine that some kind of assessment is done to determine what programs would be most useful for the Host Country. In Moldova, we have four PC programs: Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL), which has volunteers working both in schools and as teacher trainers; Health Education; Agriculture and Agribusiness Development (AAD); and Economic & Organizational Development. The EOD program initially started 10 years ago as a Business Development program, but it was not a good fit with the PC mission of non-profit, and thus has been transformed into EOD, in which we work with non-governmental organizations, more commonly known as Non-profit organizations in the U.S. Interestingly, TEFL was not one of the original PC programs in Moldova, but was added after PCVs commented on how poorly so many of the English teachers spoke English. The AAD program is not what you might imagine — PCVs don’t teach sustainable farming techniques, as Moldova has a long and rich history of quality and productive agriculture (in fact, just about everyone has at least a little plot of land somewhere on which they grow their household fruits and vegetables, and raise some animals, too). Instead, the AAD program, as I understand it, is more focused on the business aspects of agriculture.

There is, of course, some overlap between all four programs (TEFL, Health, AAD, and EOD), and I’ll come back to this later.

I don’t know it works in other countries, but in PC Moldova (PC/M), an organization or community submits a proposal to PC/M requesting a PCV. For EOD, our Program Manager, Sylvia, reviews all the proposals and selects the sites that seem best prepared for a Volunteer. Sylvia first became involved with PC when an organization she ran requested a PCV, and thus she worked for 2 years with a PCV counterpart. Over the years, she has advanced through the PC “hierarchy” and now manages the EOD program. She knows what to look for in a proposal, and she visits each potential site and meets the potential counterparts (I’ll explain that term in a moment). For instance, this year she received almost 40-some applications for the 20-some EOD volunteers available. There is a fine line between an organization that is too undeveloped for a PCV to be helpful, and one that is really ready. On the other end of the spectrum, there are organizations that are already pretty well developed, self-sustaining, and although probably have room for improvement, for the most part they “get it” and therefore a PCV would be better placed with a different organization that has more to learn.

The trick, though, is that we are assigned to the community, even though it is one organization that has specifically applied for a PCV. So perhaps a way to look at it is that the organization is the venue by which a community can get a PCV, and the organization gives the PCV a point of focus and some concrete activities and goals which will later be enhanced by activities and goals we establish for ourselves within the community.

The overarching theme for PCVs is ‘Sustainability.” Although it may be fun to do a project on your own, or it may just be easier to write a grant by yourself, we are not helping the community if we are not teaching the skills necessary for the members to sustain those activities after the PCV leaves in 2 years. Thus, we never work alone, and we are assigned a Counterpart, or Partner, by the applying organization. My counterpart is Donna Mikhailovna, and she actually works with four NGO’s, loosely coordinated by the Primaria. I know that sounds strange, as we place a high importance of the separation of non-profits from government entities, but the rules are only just being created here in Moldova, and I guess “those that decided things” figured it was more important to get the ball rolling than to worry about all the technicalities at first. The definition of NGO seems much broader here than I am used to, but then again, very little in Moldova turns out quite the way I expect it to be. But that’s another story!

The PCVs in my group are assigned to a wide variety of NGO’s. Of we three “Russians,” Emily will be working with a Parent-Teacher Organization in a school, and her counterpart is the school director. Matt will be working in the Primar’s office in Taraclia, and his counterpart is the Vice-Primar (Vice Mayor). Others are working with organizations helping disabled children and adults, others are with organizations serving the Roma (Gypsy) population. Several of us are assigned to more than one organization, and some PCVs even have more than one Counterpart. I have one Counterpart, and (at least on paper) 4 organizations: one that is called the Children’s Primaria, which sounds suspiciously like the Comsomol to me, but they assured me it was not (Comsomol was the children’s version of the Communist Party during Soviet times); one organization is kind of a Bulgarian cultural heritage group; the other two are still pretty vague to me. None of them are active right now, and I’ve already suggested to my partner that one of our first activities ought to be to determine what kind of organizations the community is interested in, rather than right away trying to “reignite” all four of them. Perhaps four is too many for a population of 5500 people? Perhaps there are some overlapping goals that could be better combined into fewer organizations so that they are not inadvertently working against each other?

Well, as you can tell, I’m already thinking a lot about my work and where to start. As I mentioned earlier, there can be a good deal of overlap between the 4 PC programs, at least in Moldova. Many PCVs pick up ‘secondary projects” within the community. Again, we are Volunteers for the entire community and not just for one organization. This can be a difficult thing sometimes for the counterparts to accept or remember, but it sounds like most folks have worked it out well to have other activities in their lives. English clubs are common, and can be a quick and easy way for a PCV to get to meet people, especially children, in a community. In terms of sustainability, though, there is some debate among PCVs about whether or not the TEFL program ought to focus so exclusively on teaching children, or if it ought not be more involved in training teachers which then will result in a larger impact, ultimately. With that in mind, I’m thinking about initiating a Conversational English time with the English teachers in the school. Of course, I need to get a better handle on what interests the community members first. Other volunteers have started up sports teams, knitting clubs, all kinds of things. Summer camps are very popular with PCVs, and there are several large ones run for teenagers from all across Moldova that any PCV can get involved with, or you can do one in your community, but again, the point is to teach some sustainable skills, so it’s imperative to involved Host Country Nationals (HCNs), aka Moldovans. The camp you started may or may not continue after you are gone, but it’s critical that someone learned how to organize an event, develop a budget, advertise, etc.

Please let me know if you have questions about this, I’m not sure if I’ve explained it well or not! I’ll do my best to explain things, but of course, I’m only beginning to understand bits and pieces of it myself. 🙂

Tvarditsa

My site visit went well, I am pleased to report! It will take several days to type up everything I want to share, but I’ll get started here.

There is one bus every day from Chisinau to Tvarditsa, leaving at 5:10 pm. The bus starts from Chisinau and Tvarditsa is the last stop, so it was pretty simple for me – get on at the beginning and off at the end! It normally takes about 3 hours by bus to travel the 120 km (approx. 72 miles), which seems crazy until you experience it. Well, it’s still crazy even after you experience it, but at least you can see why. First, of course, the bus stops along the way in a couple other towns to pick up and drop off people. The biggest reason for the slow travel time, though, are the totally terrible roads. At some points, especially when it was dark out and difficult to see where all the potholes and ditches in were in the dirt road (by the way, 90% of the trip was on dirt roads), I could have walked faster than the bus was going.

I arrived in Tvarditsa about 8:30 pm, and was met by my counterpart, Donna Mikhailovna and a friend of her’s named Tanya. They grabbed my backpack, each took an arm, and walked me to my host family’s house a few minutes walk up the street. It was an absolutely beautiful night – an amazingly clear and bright sky, billions and billions of stars twinkling, and of course no streetlights to hinder the view.

That night was a bit of a whirlwind; I was tired and overwhelmed. I met my host family, a husband and wife named George and Anna, and George’s mother who lives with them (I never did catch her name!). Of course, an enormous meal had been prepared on my behalf, including an entire roasted chicken. So, one of my first tasks was to share the news that I am vegetarian, at which point George looked at me as if I had just landed from Mars. Anna seemed crushed, mostly, I think, because she was worried I wouldn’t have anything to eat, as she quickly started asking a list of foods I do eat and pulling things out of the fridge to pile every possible vegetarian item in front of me. I tried to explain that I was perfectly satisfied with the lovely salads, fresh vegetables, cheeses, and homemade bread, but then didn’t have the energy to argue when she started boiling eggs for me, too. George spent much of the rest of that evening with the same look on his face, as if I truly was the strangest sight he had ever seen. Later, when I thought about it more, I think he was mostly having a hard time understanding my poor, accented Russian, and since I was exhausted, I was even less comprehensible than usual.

Tvarditsa is a “pure” Bulgarian village (whatever that means), and the language of choice at home and between friends is Bulgarian. Babushka (Grandma) understands Russian, and I’m sure can speak it, too, but she speaks mostly in Bulgarian, except when she’s tell me to “Eat! Eat!” and to “Take some bread! Take some more!” They all started talking about how wonderful and easy it will be for me to learn Bulgarian, insisting that it’s very close to Russian, and to demonstrate, they started naming things on the table for me in Bulgarian and making me repeat the words. I played along as nicely as I could, but managed to mention that I really need to achieve comprehension in one language before I start another.

At some point was my introduction to the outhouse. Yes, the Dreaded Outhouse. We walked through a gate in a tall fence behind the house and past their animals – turkeys, rabbits, pigs, chickens and geese – and made our way around the corner of the pens. Thankfully, they have floodlights for the yard, and Anna waited for me to make sure I was OK and found my way back to the house safely. Well, over the course of the next 2 days, all systems functioned appropriately, and I suppose I’m on way to overcoming my “fear” of outhouses (although I don’t expect I’ll ever come to prefer them). A couple days later, I told Anna that in the outhouse, when everything was “done” I still felt like there was something else that I needed to do. She looked at me strangely for a moment, then laughed and said “The water, right?” Somehow the whole “process” doesn’t quite seem complete without a flush, but I did begin to see some efficiency in eliminating that step from the process.

Despite my ability to laugh about things a few days later, I went to bed Sunday night overwhelmed, a bit horrified, lonely, and scared. I thought “What the heck have I done? There is no way I can live on a freakin’ mini-farm, pee outside with ducks watching me, learn Bulgarian, and, worst of all, move yet another time, start yet again with all new people but this time without even one other American anywhere near me!” By Monday morning, I had pretty much decided that when I got back to Chisinau on Wednesday I would tell Sylvia (our EOD coordinator) that I would give it a try for a while, but that I really didn’t think I could do this and she should be prepared to find another site for me.

I did change my mind about that over the course of the next two days, though, and I am looking forward to living in such a different way, and with such wonderful people. It is very bittersweet, though, as I am crushed to leave my wonderful family in Ialoveni, who have quickly become very dear friends. At times, I feel like all I have done for many months now is say good-bye and leave people whom I love. At least this time, there won’t be an ocean between us, and I can come visit relatively easily.

Well, back to Tvarditsa. I was supposed to spend Monday and Tuesday with my partner, and she tried her best. Unfortunately, she has been suckered into taking on the duties of the Secretary of the Primaria, which is City Hall (or, I guess, Village Hall). The mayor is called the Primar, the vice mayor is called Vice Primar. Secretary of the Primaria is not what might expect (but then again, very little in Moldova is what you might expect), and in fact a better translation would be “the person you have to see for absolutely every single thing.” I sat in her office for several hours on both days, and was simply amazed. She heard people’s complaints, from why they were fined for something to how their taxes are too high; she stamped a bazillion documents, collected money for the processing of various forms or applications or God-knows-what; she typed up forms on an ancient manual typewriter (which I dubbed “the computer” as it is the most technical piece of equipment in the entire Primar’s office). Honestly, it’s hard to imagine the plethora of activities in which she has to be involved, and suffice to say she barely had time to breath, much less entertain me for two days. She did introduce me to the Primar, a nice older gentleman (probably in his 60’s), who is Communist; to the Vice Primar, a spunky young woman (I’d guess in her 30’s), who is a doctor by training and became Vice Primar a year ago; to the police officers, whose “station” (which is exactly one small room with just enough room for one desk) is in the Primaria, and to various other people. I hadn’t realized she’d be so busy, so hadn’t taken anything with me on Monday to do. She apologized profusely for not having time for me, and promised she’s trying desperately to get out of this position. I’m not sure how easy that will be, though, as it’s clearly a totally thankless job and no one else wants to come close to it. Well, I hope they are able to find someone to fill the position, but either way, I’m comfortable working independently, and my first 3-6 months will be spent mostly learning about the village and its people, not in really doing any work, per se.

At some point, another member of the Primaria staff came in, introduced herself as Nadia, took pity on me, and invited me to coffee. She’s a couple years older than me, divorced, with a 17 year old daughter. I instantly liked her, and some of those earlier anxieties started to be eased. We had a nice talk, and when I mentioned with whom I was staying with, she had very high praise for the family, which also made me feel better to get another positive opinion on the people I’m going to live with at least for the foreseeable future. I spent much of the rest of the afternoon in her office, which she shares with another woman. Nadia collects and processes the business taxes, and I enjoyed watching the totally archaic tracking process in action. Binders and binders full of handwritten lines of information – who paid how much, when, and for what. She glued seals onto certificates to indicate that term’s taxes had been paid, and painstakingly copied information onto documents for the business owner and for the Primaria’s records. Not a computer nor a copier to be found, and not a single process automated.

I went home for lunch with Anna, as the house is barely a 5 minute walk from the Primaria, and it was nice to have some time alone with her to get to know each other better. I think we were both a bit apprehensive about each other, but by the time we went back to the office, I was very comfortable with the idea of living with her. She is 48, George is 49. They have two grown sons, the older is recently divorced and is working in Russia, the younger is studying computer programming at a university in Chisinau. She has a 2-year old grandson. She worked for 20+ years as a Kindergarten teacher, and left her job as Director of the Kindergarten a few years ago. It sounds like she was the primary caregiver for her grandson until her son got divorced and his ex-wife moved away and took their child with her. The pain and sadness is so very clear on her face and in her voice at the lose of him, and I felt so very sad for her. Her younger son, apparently, has been pestering her to “get out of the house some,” as she has been quite depressed, so when the Census came to town, she started working as a Coordinator for that.

The Census is worth an aside in the story here. This is the first census in 15 years, which also means the first census since Moldova became independent. The data collection sounds somewhat similar to how it was done in the U.S., with the main difference being that forms were not mailed out but instead a Census worker interviews a household personally. People have the normal concerns: their taxes will be increased if they tell the truth; something must be corrupt or fishy or scandalous about the Census; somehow I’ll get screwed by this; etc. In a small village like Tvarditsa, where most everyone is related in one way or another, and they certainly all know each other, the workers can easily correct someone who gives an incorrect answer. For example, Anna knew that someone’s son was working in Russia (which seems to be where almost every Moldovan man between 25-40 is), and when they inadvertently included him in the household number, she could say “But isn’t So-and-So in Russia?” and get the numbers correct. Everyone knows that lots and lots of people have left, but when you see the numbers on paper, somehow it has a stronger impact. Tvarditsa used to have about 6500 residents, but Anna told me they hadn’t even reached 5000 yet in their counting, and as they are coming close to the end of the data collection period, they are now anticipating the population will be around 5500. If I did my math correctly (which is always a Big “If”), that’s a 15% loss in the village’s population. Families are having fewer children, yes, but the biggest loss of population comes from the fact that so very many people are working abroad. Russia, Portugal, and Italy are the countries I hear most often as the place where someone’s husband, brother, cousin, father, etc is working. It is usually men, usually under 25-40 years old. This, of course, will have a dramatic impact on the society in the long run, in ways we can’t even begin to predict.

But again, back to Tvarditsa. The Census is “headquartered” in the Primaria in Tvarditsa, so Anna walked to work and home together both days. Her husband, George, is the tractor driver (“Traktorist”) on a large cooperative farm in the village. Right now, of course, is a very busy time on a farm, and he is the only Traktorist, so he has been working from sunup to long past sundown, every day of the week. So again, Anna and I had some nice time together as she prepared dinner after work, until George came home around 8/8:30. There seems to be a good amount of employment opportunities in the village, as there is the large cooperative farm, a wine and cognac factory, 2 mills, and I heard they are building a dairy plant (or cheese factory, they called it in Russian). That’s not particularly glamorous work, though, and although employment opportunities exist, I am curious to learn more about their ability to find workers. Anna told me that at the farm where George works, during Soviet times (when it was a Collective Farm, or kolkhoz), there were almost twice as many workers on the farm and there were 2 Traktorists. I didn’t quite catch if the number of employees is so drastically reduced from attrition or from lay-offs, but I strongly suppose it’s the latter. That good ole capitalist principle of doing more with less! So, now people work even harder and longer, for less pay and have less time to take care of their lives or, God forbid, relax and enjoy their lives a bit.

Tuesday Donna Mikhailovna asked a school boy to show me around a bit. Sasha’s about 15, I would guess, and he was a perfect gentleman. He helped me buy a sim chip for my cell phone (the cell phone system is totally different here, but I won’t bore you with the details), then took me to the Children’s Library, the Village Library, the Internet Café, and to his school. We was an excellent tour guide, and I thoroughly enjoyed spending a couple hours with him. At the school, he left me in the care of the Vice Principal as he had classes in the afternoon (a lot of schools seem to be on what we would call “block scheduling,” with students coming for classes at different times during the day). The Vice Principal also happens to be an English teacher, which gave me a much needed break from struggling to converse in Russian all the time. She took me to the teacher’s lounge and introduced me to her colleagues, and I even quickly met the Principal (or School Director, as they call them here). It was the breaktime between classes, and chaos seemed to be ensuing, so I didn’t stay long. But, it was fun to meet the teachers, they were all delighted to meet me and I’m looking forward to working with them.

By Tuesday night, Anna, George, Babushka and I were all talking as if I’d be living there, which means we were all used to the idea and planning for it! I’m looking forward to living there, working there, and experiencing so many new things.

Question #3

Before I left the states, Question #3 (after “Moldo-huh?” and “You’re doing what?”) was “You’re still going to vote, right?” I am pleased to report that I have voted!

I filed for an absentee ballot before I left Ohio, but have not been optimistic that I would actually receive my ballot here in Moldova. First, the mail system here is incredibly slow and unpredictable; second, Ohio sends out the absentee ballots relatively late; and third, I don’t expect it’s an especially high priority in my Republican-controlled state that a bunch of Peace Corps Volunteers vote. Well, the PC staff here arranged for us to vote at the federal level, which means only for President/Vice President, and they arranged for our ballots to be delivered via the Embassy. I’ve done all I can do at this point, and now it’s up to the US Postal Service and the Franklin County Board of Elections to handle it. Thank you Peace Corps for helping us vote!

PC staff also tapes CNN for us, and we get to watch it before our lectures and during lunch on our Hub Site days, which means once or twice a week. These last few Hub Site days, we’ve watched the Presidential debates. I watched some of them, but have to admit, decided not to watch all of it. I made up my mind a long time ago about who I would vote for, and nothing was going to change my mind at this point. I am pleased to report that at least one volunteer in our group said he changed his mind, and is now NOT voting for Bush, based on the debates. I hope some other Americans saw the light, too!

I understand there is some kind of scandal about flu shots at home. I don’t know what’s going on, but my first reaction is “Are you people crazy? With everything going on in the world, there was actually a question in the presidential debates about freakin’ flu shots?!” Granted, there may be more to the situation than I realize, but it still sounds ridiculous to me.

I must admit, I am glad that I am not in the US now, mired in all the political rhetoric and drama. Of course we (volunteers) are all interseted in the election, and are in fact quite nervous about it. The PC budget was cut again recently, and instead of 2 groups of volunteers coming to Moldova next year, there will be only one group (for the past several years, English and Health Education PCVs came June, and EOD and Ag PCVs came in September). PC budget is only one tiny piece of our concerns, of course, and I can only hope and pray that our country gets back on track, and that we are able to repair the damage done to our international relations.

In a pinch, give ’em matches

The funny thing this week was at the little store. We needed a few things at home, including toilet paper, which is something I’m very happy to take care of purchasing. I finally explained to Alyona that I have a spoiled, wimpy American butt, and I just can’t handle the sandpaper they call toilet paper around here. The “good stuff” is available, but of course more expensive, so I’ve taken responsibility for keeping the toilet paper in stock. This way, my sensitive tush is happy, and my family doesn’t have to foot the bill for my absurd luxury. Anyway, Tamara Ivanovna had shown me one time a little store in a place that really has no place being a store, and she said things are cheaper there (I later found out it is a wholesale store; Matt now calls it “CostCo). You would never find the place on your own, it’s totally unmarked, along the side of some building, set back from the street. But, people seem to know about it, as it has a steady stream of customers. You walk down a driveway, and enter a door into an empty room with cement floor and dim light. To the left are heavy double doors into the warehouse. To the right is the door into the “shop.” Inside are two tall bookshelves with items on display: 2-3 varieties of tea, boxes of candy and cookies, cans of olives, bottles of juice, packets of spices, toilet paper, soap, detergent, rice, pasta, flour, etc. A hodge podge of items, with one of each on display. Across from the shelves is a desk, where a woman sits and takes your order. She meticulously writes down what you ask for, the quantity, and price on a tablet, full of that day’s purchases. The “cash register” is the top desk drawer. She then goes across the hall, to the warehouse, and collects your items. Sometimes there is someone else working with her who gets the items while she writes them down and collects the money. This time it was just her, so every transaction took a long time as we waited for her to “shop” for each customer in the warehouse. Most people buy just a few items at a time, but nonetheless, it’s a time consuming process. You can also buy some items in bulk, by weight (a kilo of rice, for example, or 1/2 kilo of cookies), and this adds time to the transaction. So, today I “ordered” a pack of toilet paper and a bar of soap. She wrote it down, tallied it up, went to get it all, and came back to collect my money. 12 lei 75 bann; I handed her a 20. She fumbled in the drawer but couldn’t find any coins, so my change was 7 lei and 2 boxes of matches! You gotta love a system like that.

By the way, the matches are totally useful. The stoves and ovens don’t have pilot lights, so every time you want to cook, you have to light the burner with a match. Many people also light the water heater before each use, rather than leaving it on all the time, and that also requires a regular supply of matches.

Tvarditsa, here I come!

The long awaited site assignments were announced this afternoon, and my home for the next two years will be Tvarditsa (pronounced Tvar’-dits-uh). Here’s the limited information I have at this time:

The name of the organization is “Tvarditsa”, located in the town of Tvarditsa, in the raion (region) of Taraclia. The director/coordinators are: Lidia Iazadju and Dominichia Bobikova, and Dominichia Bobikova will be my counterpart. As I understand it, her “regular” job is with the Village Mayoralty, and she is listed as being an expert in children, youth, and sport problems within the Village Mayoralty office.

Here’s what they wrote in their application for a PC Volunteer:

Target Group/Beneficiaries of the activities as:
People living in the village (development of their community activity, protection of their civil, economic, social and cultural rights).

Short description of organization’s goals and activities:
– Establishment of an Information Center with the main goal to receive and spread information among the people in the community
– Create conditions for satisfying professional and personal interests in various fields of knowledge
– Get the people in the community involved in charitable activities
– Contribution to acquisition of materials needed for the pedagogical, cultural, entrepreneur activity

History of organization’s activities (list both finished and current projects):
– Finished project: “National customs, traditions, children, youth, and women of the village”

# of staff/volunteers: 7 people

I will be their first PCV, which is exciting. It is my understanding that this particular area of Moldova has a large ethnic Bulgarian population, and they indicate on their application that their primary operating languages are both Russian and Bulgarian. In particular, they asked for a PCV with experience in establishing NGOs and skills in working with NGOs, grant writing and project implementation. They describe my specific activities rather vaguely (which is quite common, especially for an organization getting their first PCV): work with NGO; establishment of long term NGOs; consulting and collaborative grant writing; and work for project implementation. I will share Dominichia’s office in the village mayoralty.

We are constantly reminded by PC staff and current volunteers that reality often turns out to be quite different from the applications organizations submit, so I am keeping an open mind and expecting just about anything. However, it does sound like my experience in organizational development, staff and volunteer development and management, and project management will be useful.

So, what do we know about Tvardita? Not a whole lot yet. Their application indicates it is a village of about 6400 people, which is pretty large for a village (I think you officially become a “town” when you get to about 10,000 people in Moldova). It is about 120 km south of Chisinau, close to the eastern border and Ukraine. It is part of the raion Taraclia, but that raion is rather odd and has disconnected bits and pieces all along the south-central and eastern Moldova. The closest city is Ceadir-Lunga, to the south west of Tvardita, which is actually in the semi-autonomous region of Gagauz. Taraclia, the capital of the Taraclian raion, is further south west of Ceadir-Lunga. Matt will be working in the Mayoralty in Taraclia, and Emily will be further south still in a small village called Ciumai (Choo’-my), right smack on the Ukrainian border, working with a Parent-Teacher Association in a Russian school.

There are a good number of PCVs heading south this year, with 3 or 4 folks going to Cahul on the western side of the southern part of Moldova. There are 2 PCVs in Ceadir-Lunga from last year’s groups (one TEFL and one EOD), and I think one or two folks in Comrat from last year’s groups, but I will actually be fairly isolated (which isn’t saying much in a country smaller than Maryland) from other PCVs. This is actually good, in my opinion, as I can get to people when I want to, but I won’t be tempted or obliged to spend tons of time with the PCVs since it will take effort to get to them. As I told my host family, I didn’t come to Moldova to spend all my time with Americans! But, it’s nice to know that they are near enough, when I do want and need to talk to a fellow American. Emily and I already started talking about how and where to meet up with each other, and I am glad that we will be within in an hour or so of each other.

The announcement of the sites was a creative and fun event. They’ve kept us on pins and needles for a couple weeks now, and the PC staff made the actual announcement “ceremony” quite a deal. David Reside, Country Director, came and said a few words. Many M12s (last year’s Ag and EOD group) were on hand as well. We all went to the school’s gymnasium, where a very rough outline of Moldova had been drawn on the floor. Chairs with village and town names on them were set around the “country”, more or less based on geography. Names were drawn one at a time, and our project coordinator’s announced our site and NGO, gave us each a large and beautiful map of Moldova, and led us by the hand to our “site.” It was really neat to see at the end how we are spread out all over the country. Current PCVs then spread out amongst us, talking with folks who will be living near to them. We “Russians” knew that we were all going to a new area of the country for PC, but again, it’s a small country and no one is really that far away. My program’s application indicates that Tvardita is about 3.5 hours by bus from Chisinau, or 2 hours by car (strangely enough, it is 7 hours by train!). We will experience this first hand on Sunday when we head out to meet our counterparts, visit with prospective host families, and check out our new homes! It’s very exciting and I’m looking forward to getting to work.

If you have to get sick…

Then get sick while you’re in Peace Corps! I spent most of last week at home in bed with a nasty Moldovan strain of the flu. I can now attest, though, that it absolutely true you get the best health care ever while you are in Peace Corps. Dr. Lika, as she is affectionately known, cares for each and every of the 130+ PCVs in Moldova with a vengence. She came to our apartment Tuesday, doctor’s bag in hand as well as with the most amazing supply of medications. She did the most thorough examination I’ve ever had in my life, spent a good 45 minutes here, talking with me and my host family, then called two or three times each day the rest of the week to check on my status. What doctor in the U.S. would give you this kind of attention? And I know it wasn’t the only PCV ill last week, so I didn’t extra TLC just because she had no other patients at the time. To the contrary, it’s the start of flu season, and there are, of course, the usual cases of diarrhea (the most common PCV illness around the world) and other gastro-intestinal “fun.” By Saturday, I was well enough to venture into Chisinau for a couple hours, and went back on Sunday to visit the PC office building, where I bumped into Dr. Lika – on a Sunday! She insisted on giving me another extremely thorough follow-up exam on the spot, so my quick trip to the city resulted in a 30 minute doctor’s visit. She’s the best!

This weekend was the National Wine Festival, and there was a huge event in Chisinau. The weather was gorgeous on Saturday (you could wear just a t-shirt practically), which made for perfect festival weather. I didn’t feel up to that kind of revelry yet, and I think I was the only PCV not in attendance. I hear it was great; wineries from all over the country had booths, offering free samples of their latest vintages. There was lots of food, music, dancing, the whole she-bang. President Voronin made an appearance, and I heard one of the guys in our group managed to shake his hand even! Pretty cool.

While everyone else was partying, I worked my way to a clothes store, like a factory-outlet, that my host family had shown me last week. Autumn is definitely in the air, and after my bout with the flu, I decided not to delay any longer on getting a winter coat. I found a very nice, simple, black knee-length cashmere coat for 750 lei (about $65). This factory store definitely had cheaper prices than in the department stores, and you know my love for a bargain! This company, Ionel, is a Moldovan clothes manufacturer which makes high quality clothes for men and women. I saw many beautiful coats, but opted for something simple that will be easier to care for in village life. There were also very snazzy men’s suits, and our language instructor told us that Europeans and Americans in Moldova often come that factory store and buy 5 or 6 suits to take home with them. I think I will check it out again in 2 years and maybe bring home an elegant coat with me!

Sunday, another PCV took me to the PC office in Chisinau so I could learn the way to get there. It is a large building, looks like a house on the outside, but inside is a warren of hallways, staircases, and rooms. There is a PCV lounge on the third floor, with a big TV and hundreds of video tapes. Some PCVs were watching The Sopranos. There is also a computer lab with 3-4 computers and a printer. The Resource Room is there, as well, with teaching materials, handbooks, etc for PCVs to peruse or even check out. The best part, in my opinion, is a wonderfully eclectic library, supplied over the past 10 years by PCVs who have left books for the “next guy.” They are loosely organized (fiction, travel, biographies, etc.), and you take what you want, leave what you want, return when you can. A quick scan found a good number of books to keep me busy for a couple years, and I plan to donate most of my books to the library after I’ve read them myself. It’s fun to think about who left the book you are holding – many of them have a name and the PC group number, i.e., Ann Merrill M14 (the 14th group of PCVs in Moldova). I borrowed first The Milagro Beanfield Wars – thank you Mark Sekula M7!

One big disappointment about being sick last week was that I missed the meeting with the Vice Mayor on Wednesday, but Matt and Emily reported that it went well. Viorica, our language teacher, went with them to translate. Our next assignment is to plan and implement a Community Activity. We’ve decided to partner up with one of the current PCVs in Ialoveni, Hye Mi (pronounced like H’Amy), a Korean-American woman. She is coordinating a seminar-type program for 12-18 year-old girls about self-esteem, violence against women, and self-defense. She’s got a lot going on with the event, and we offered to work up something for the self-esteem part. We’re not really sure how we’ll pull this off, but it will be interesting!

Umom Rosseeyu nye ponyat’

In case you are wondering, the title means, roughly, There’s no making sense of Russia. It’s a line from a famous poem, that has now become a regular saying that perfectly sums up what I have thought about Russia, Russian culture, and the Russian language for 15 years. Why I just learned this phrase today, I don’t know, but There’s no making sense of Russia!

On another note, I continue to enjoy this bootcamp that we call Peace Corps Pre-Service Training. Somedays it just hits me like a wave that I’m really here, a Real Life Peace Corps Volunteer, and it’s just amazing. To think about something for so many years, and now to really finally be doing it. I just think to myself, Holy cow, I really did it! Of course, other days, I think to myself, Holy shit, what have I done? Like today, when the water is off again for no apparent reason. But that’s par for the course, I guess.

Things are still busy here. Saturday my host sister Alyona took Emily and me into Chisinau, the capital, for some shopping. I found a couple nice winter coats, and will go back tomorrow to buy one. How about a 3/4 length black cashmere coat for $65?! We had a good time, and I’m really liking Alyona a lot – she is Anya’s mother, Tamara Ivanovna’s 39-year old daughter. She was in London the last 3-4 months, and of course didn’t want to come back to Moldova but couldn’t get her visa extended and didn’t want to stay illegally. She’s an English teacher, but is being very good about speaking Russian with me, although I know she’s dying to work on her and Anya’s English. We mix the languages now, which gives me a break, too, as 24/7 was really wearing me out. I taught her some yoga last night, and we will probably do this together a few times a week now. It will be hard to move in 6 weeks as I’m getting very attached to these folks very quickly! They have all been so kind and gracious to me, and in fact we have all been very fortunate with our host
families.

Tomorrow we have an “independent field trip” to Chisinau scheduled, and we are supposed to get ourselves to a certain meeting place where a current volunteer will meet us and give us a tour of useful and interesting places in the city. Since Emily, Matt and I already had more access to the city than most other volunteers, we talked to our “guide” today and have some fun stuff planned in addition to the requisite informational tour.

Then on Wednesday we have our meeting with the Vice Mayor of Ialoveni. Each village of trainees has a set of community activities to complete as part of our training, and meeting with an important personage in the village/town is one of them. So, we set up the appointment with the Vice Mayor (mayor is travelling out of the country right now), and tomorrow we’ve got to figure out what the hell we’re going to ask him about. Understanding the answers is an entirely different set of problems!

We got our site options last week, which are the places that requested PC Volunteers this year and that were selected to receive a volunteer. There are three Russian sites, all in the southeast of Moldova, in the raion (district) of Taraclia. We’re supposed to be able to give our preferences, and Sylvia, the EOD program manager, will try to take preferences into account and then match volunteers with sites. Well, she made it pretty clear that she’s already decided for the three Russians, so we’ve been trying to guess all weekend who’s going where. All three sites sound like interesting work to me, so I fall back to my secondary criterion, which is indoor plumbing. Keep your fingers crossed for me! We find out our assignments a week from tomorrow, and then the following weekend we are supposed to somehow travel by ourselves to
our sites, meet our counterparts, check out possible host families, and get ourselves back to Chisinau 3 days later. This will be interesting, but the good news is that 2 weeks from today, I will know (a) in what town I will be living, (b) with whom I will working, and (c) with whom I will be living. It’s only taken a year to get that info, so what’s 2 more weeks now, eh?

I went with Alyona the other night to her friend’s house, who has an 8 year old daughter, Lyuba. She is absolutely adorable, chattered away to me for over an hour, showed me her aquarium, photo albums, performed a dance and sang a song from the school show, you name it. She speaks Russian and Romanian, and started learning English in school this year – 8 years old! She showed off her excellent school marks, and read to me from her English textbook. She also loaned me one of her Russian primers, which is actually about the perfect level for me right now. She was delightful. I walked home both happy and melancholy- missing all the wonderful kids back home so much. So, extra big kisses to those cuties at home! Moms and Dads, help them send me some emails, OK?