'Tis the Season

My first Christmas overseas has come and gone, and despite being away from friends, family, American food, and 100% indoor plumbing it was pretty great. I took a 10-minute taxi ride from my village to the nearest city, Taraclia, where I picked up a bus and traveled 1.5 hours west to the city of Cahul. From there I took another taxi, this time north about 25 minutes to Zirnesti, a village where another PCV, Joanna, lives.

Joanna had done her place up quite well, complete with a mini-Christmas tree, which we decorated. I brought my guitar and some print-outs of the words to Christmas carols and I must say our small group of carolers did quite well on Jingle Bell Rock, Silent Night, and The 12 Days of Christmas.


We watched a few movies and feasted on an excellent lasagna that Joanna and her coux (sp?) chef, Krystal, baked for the occasion.

Special thanks must be made to Krista, who gave me a bag of made-from-scratch bagels that she baked. Since I love bagels and they do not exist in Moldova, it really made my day. Definitely among the top-5 Christmas presents ever received.

And though I haven't done it yet, in about 3 hours I can call my entire family at my Aunt Gail's house in NJ, where they've gathered for the day. Really looking forward to speaking with everyone!

Cows, Trees, and Water Projects

Sunday morning Oleg drove me around town to explain some of the projects he's got going on.  First stop was a water project, funded by USAID through the Urban Institute's LGRP (Local Government Reform Project).  Where previously there was only one 60ft water tower fed by one deep well, there will soon be three 60ft water towers fed by three deep wells.  This should alleviate some of the shortages in water that those connected to the water system have during the summer - and perhaps more importantly lays the groundwork for other homes to be connected.

Then we drove to an empty field where he's started an orchard.  Children grow saplings in a garden in front of their school, and then transplant them to this field.  Only problem is the 6 cows who graze in this field, eating and knocking over the saplings.  Oleg called the police to find out whose cows these were, and while we waited for them to show, two men (who turned out to be the owners) drove by and stopped.  Oleg told the men that their cows were destroying the saplings and that they could graze them in anywhere beyond this 100-year radius in which the orchard was to be - and really there was
plenty of land all around.  One immediately moved his cow, but the other, who I think was a little drunk and couldn't get his right boot over his heel refused.  They yelled for 30 minutes in Gagauzian, and at one point the police officer got fed up and grabbed this man by the collar, knocked him off his feet, and was about to haul him into jail - but in the end he agreed to move his cows.  Oleg told me later he wanted money from the mayor's office for moving his cows 100 yards.

I don't know if the cows are where they should be or not right now.

The House of Culture

In virtually every village, town, or city there’s something called a
“dom cultura.” It was big in the Soviet times and basically
functioned as a community center. People performed plays there, had
parties or weddings, held band practices, community meetings, etc.
There was even and sort-of still is a local TV station in one of the
rooms.

Well our House of Culture – along with many of those in Moldova – is
in major, major disrepair. Windows are smashed, floors are torn up,
ceilings peeling, and toilets are non-existent and electricity is
almost there.

My mayor applied for a $150,000 grant to fix it up, and today we had
a big meeting and walk through the dom kultura with an official from
the Ministry of Culture and two people from FISM, which is funded by
USAID. In about a month or two, they’ll decide if our application is
to be approved, and I hope we get it.

Skype Follow-up

I helped my host mother call her son in Moscow via Skype. She was
really excited, and next we’re going to try calling her other son who
lives in the middle of Russia somewhere. The connection isn’t the
greatest over dial-up, but it’s super cheap and I get a kick out of
hearing her say the Russian equivalent of “over” each time she’s
finished talking so that she and her son aren’t trying to speak at
the same time. Over and out.

Skype

This blog entry is more for fellow PCVs than folks back in America – but you may find it useful too.  It’s about the latest and greatest (and cheapest) phone calling technology that I’ve seen and now actually used.  It’s called “Skype” and it allows you to call through the Internet to both other computers OR regular phone lines.  To call computer to computer and talk just like a normal phone conversation is free worldwide.  To call computer to regular telephone works fine too – that’s why I just did to call my parents in American – and it only costs about 2 cents per minute to call America from anywhere in the world.  [To call a Moldovan landline or mobile from anywhere costs 15 or 22 cents per minute, respectively and every country has its own rate.  It only matters where you call to, not where you call from.]

 

So, if you’re a PCV and want to know how to call home, you’ll first need two things:

1. A laptop that has a microphone either built-in or one that you can plug in
2. An internet connection  [Dial-up is fine.  That’s what I have and though the conversation is a little choppy at times, for the most part the voices are crystal clear.  If you’re in Moldova there’s a national Internet system.  You dial 1900 (or perhaps “p1900”) using the Account Name “Internet” and the password “Total.”  They charge by the minute and the cost comes out to be around 7 lei (60 cents) per hour.  The fee shows up on your monthly telephone bill)

 

If you fit those two criteria, go to www.skype.com and download their software.  It’s 4-7MB, so you might want to do this at the PCOffice and transfer it to your computer via a flash drive so you don’t get stuck online for a long period of time.

 

Then when you install the software you should be online so you can set up an account for yourself.  From there it’s pretty self-explanatory and the skype website is very user friendly.  If you plan on making phone from your computer to a regular phone, you have to buy credits with your credit card usually in $10 increments.

My First Trip Back

As most of you know, I work in a mayor’s office. Out of the 130 or
so PCVs in Moldova, about 7 of us work in mayor’s offices, and we
seven were invited to participate in a conference this past week
sponsored by USAID and the Urban Institute’s Local Government Reform
Project (LGRP). This is, in my opinion, an excellent program geared
toward opening up the local governments in Moldova, making their
actions more transparent and participatory for local citizens, and in
general improving their ability to fix local problems independently.
I made a few good contacts, including one former PCV who helped set
up my current site and as of two weeks ago works for the Urban
Insitute – thanks Ross. I think with LGRP’s help, I’ll be able to
get a lot done here.

It was also an opportunity to take a hot shower. The daily bus from
Copceac to Chisinau leaves at 4:45am and arrives in the capital
around 8am. I had the first shower in the PCOffice that day, and it
was glorious. I mean it – glorious.

I also got to see some friends, eat some hummus, and make a few
purchases – most notably my 200 liter water container. My plan is to
load it up with water from our well every Sunday, and that should be
enough to last Mom and me through the week. This way I don’t need to
make daily trips to get water for cooking, cleaning, washing clothes,
showering, distilling, etc.

The Pit

Many have asked about the toilet situation in my new site. I no longer have the fancy indoor toilet I had during my 3 months of training. We're back to the pit. Here's a photo. It's actually fine - you just don't bother bringing any reading material...

A Kalhouz, Frost, & an Earthquake

Here are some photos of my (busy) mayor, Oleg; the advanced members of my English Klub, from left Natasha, Evdokia, Ludmilla, and Anna; the local graveyard and my shadow; and the first real frost from this morning – it was quite beautiful. [Will upload the pictures at a later date when I'm in the capital- it's taking too long on my dial-up.]

This afternoon I was sitting in my room working on an advertisement for my English Klub when it felt as though someone dropped a heavy object in a neighboring apartment. I thought nothing of it and continued with my work. About 30 minutes later Krista called (to ask me the words to “Jingle Bells”) and asked if I felt the earthquake. “What earthquake? Oh, that was an earthquake?!” So there you have it. I doubt it will make the news in the States – it may not even make the news in Moldova since some many in Chisinau didn’t feel it – but now I’ve lived through an earthquake.

There are two main organizations in this village – the mayor’s office and the kalhouz. Similar to the wrangling between the American Congress and President, Copceac’s mayor and the kalhouz also have their fights. Recently, there was some kind of suit filed by my mayor against the kalhouz about tax evasion and I’m not really sure who is right. As a Volunteer based in the mayor’s office yet serving the whole community, I am anxious not to be perceived as for or against one side or the other. [Good news – my language tutor just offered to introduce me to her uncle, who happens to be the head of the kalhouz. Maybe I’ll get a tour of their building.]

I should probably explain what is a kalhouz exactly… In the days of the Soviet Union, all farmland was owned collectively by kalhouzes. The kalhouz employed hundreds if not thousands of people – some took care of the tractors, others were in charge of the grapevines, some corn, etc. When the harvest came, the kalhouz sold the produce and paid its workers in crops and cash.

In some parts of Moldova this practice continues; others broke up their kalhouzes and distributed the land as private property among the local citizenry. It is difficult to decide which is the better system. The capitalist American within me says give the land to the people, let them sell it if they want, and allow some farmer to buy it and apply his own ingenuity to farming and see how it goes. But the Moldovan side of me sees that if I were a teacher I certainly couldn’t farm the land myself and few here could afford to purchase my land for a fair price and renting it would just involve too many headaches and how will I eat if no one farms the land and why should I want to change anything anyhow?!

A recent conversation highlighted this attitude. As those of you who have been following this sordid blog know, I want to teach the people in my office MSExcel. Basically, the anti-Excel argument I heard was if they learn the program then the work it now takes a team of accountants to do could be done by one or two people – you’ll put people out of a job! The antagonists of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged made the same case: don’t let technology advance or don’t let one person’s hard work and intelligence allow him to succeed in a way that would force some to go out of business. Let’s all just stay the same so everyone can get a piece of the pie; let’s all move forward together. But if that argument held true, then we should never have attempted to move beyond the Stone Age. I’m sure some poor buggy drivers were run out of business when the automobile came on the scene, and some candle-makers went under when Edison invented the light bulb, but we (or at least I) don’t begrudge those inventors for their genius. [And I look forward to the day when cleaner industries antiquate the polluting combustion engine and inefficient light bulbs.]

I certainly don’t want to force anyone into unemployment (which incidentally if it ever did happen would not be for years), but part of my job is to help this place move forward. Instead of spending literally days on pointless busy-work computing down to the tenth of a penny what every teachers’ salary ought to be, they could focus on the real needs of this village – creating incentives for small businesses, paving roads, getting water into every home, caring for abandoned children, creating economic incentives to keep locals from leaving families to earn money abroad, etc. And if my mayor has his wits about him (which I believe he does) then he won’t fire anyone but set them to work on these bigger issues.

English Klub

I’ve started the Copceac English Klub and yesterday was our first
meeting. It’s for people who already know some English, but want to
practice speaking with a native (moi). I’d also like to use this
forum as a way to share a bit about myself and America and to learn
about Gagauzian culture (the members of the club told me they were
Gagauzians, not Moldovans) and my village’s needs from people who can
explain it in English better than I can ask or understand it in Russian.

Future plans for the Klub include watching and discussing American
films, learning about American geography (courtesy of maps being sent
by my friend Hal – though feel free to send maps of your own state
and I’ll use them), listening to American songs, etc. - and of course
just chatting. Eventually, I’d like to use this Klub as a sort of
local NGO, maybe to redo an abandoned movie theater as a new youth
center or some other such project, but that’s way down the line.

For now, we’re going to meet every Sunday. There is one time for
beginners and one time for advanced students or English teachers. As
this is the first English Klub I've ever run, any suggestions would
be most welcome.

Excel

I taught a man in my office how to use MSExcel a few days ago. He
needed to copy onto the computer and print out a table one of the
accountants had drawn out on graph paper. He began using the “insert
a table” option in MSWord, which I think is how most everyone does
things here, when I interrupted him and offered to show him a better
way. [For those of you reading this who are computer literate, you
know that Excel is a far superior program for these kinds of things
than Word. For those of you who are not computer literate, just
trust me on this… and stop forwarding me chain emails! You won’t
really live a lonely, destitute life if you fail to send that email
to at least 5 friends.] So Vadim and I worked together and created a
pretty good table.

Then the next day he had to do something similar and opted to go back
to Word. Oh well. I guess changing things will take time and I’ve
started creating some teaching files and tables to continue to work
on explaining Excel.

Along the same lines as changing things, I had a discussion – which
was really more one-sided than the word “discussion” implies – with a
geography teacher who actually knew a decent amount of American
history. He said that when the slaves were freed many of them didn’t
really know what to do with themselves, that they were not mentally
prepared for their freedom and the responsibility it entailed. He
then drew the comparison to the people of Moldova, who are not
necessarily mentally prepared for the active and entrepreneurial
aspects of life demanded by capitalism after decades of Soviet rule.
I asked what he’s doing to change that and he said he’s teaching his
students to think. Well, I suppose that’s a start.

Great Meeting

Today I had a fantastic meeting with my counterpart, the mayor of my village, Oleg. I wish we had held this meeting two weeks ago when I first arrived, but perhaps I wouldn’t have been ready for it – with my language, inability to ask the right questions due to lack of knowledge of the village, and the potential for my brain to overload after hearing too much new information too quickly. Anyway, I’m glad we had this meeting and I look forward to having more of them.

Oleg unfolded a huge map of the village on his table and explained the towns problems to me, pointing out where certain things were that he mentioned. There were the roads he wanted to pave, those paved during the Soviet Union, the paved roads completed recently by the mayors office – some with asphalt and some in the white method (large blocks of concrete), and the ones paved by the kalhouz (town council) which conveniently run in front of family members of kalhouz officials…

There were the garbage dumps that I didn’t know existed on two ends of the town and there were the ones that had already been filled, capped, and planted over with trees. He mentioned that no one takes their garbage to the dump because it’s too far away and the option presented by USAID for metal dumpsters and a garbage truck was too expensive and maybe we could come up with a more creative and cheaper solution.

We talked about the fact that the system that used to bring water into half of the 2200 homes in this village is essentially broken because the pipes are from 1961. There are no meters to measure water use, and thus its use (when it worked) was free and so people used too much in the summer for their gardens and there was no money to fix things when they broke. So perhaps if the system could be repaired and meters attached to individual homes, people would use water more conservatively and a sustainable source of revenue would cover the upkeep of the system.

There’s an abandoned movie theater that Oleg would like to see turned into a youth center with an internet café and abandoned lot he’d like to turn into a park. He thinks a youth organization would have an easier time getting funding for such projects than the mayor’s office – and I agree – and that my soon-to-be-created English Club could be the perfect vehicle for that. Perfect, I think – I want the English Club to actually do things rather than just sit around and watch American films.

There’s the tree nursery that he already started at the two schools and the forest beyond the town borders to where the trees are transplanted when their about a foot tall. There’s a public bath house that was built as a private enterprise and hopefully will start working next year. There are the street lights he’d like to hang and a new cemetery he’d like to build. There are computers and computer programs he’d like to get for his accountants so they’re not wasting loads of time using calculators and white out.

In other words, there’s a lot of stuff to do and I need not be worried about finding work, which to be honest is often a PCV’s darkest nightmare and sometimes sad reality. It is actually possible to be a PCV who reads a lot of books for two years and I really don’t want to be him.

The Simple Life

So here I am settling into my life in Copceac. Most days I get up around 7 and am at the Mayor’s office for the 8am morning meeting with all the staff. As my Russian isn’t yet at the level it needs to be and I can’t say anything beyond “Cheers” in Gagauz, I don’t understand everything that is said at these meetings, but I can usually get the gist of what’s going on. And it’s encouraging that the office even has these meetings.

I still don’t know exactly what I’ll do here, but I am getting ideas. I’d like to give a training on MSExcel, something many of the staff would benefit from knowing. It would free up probably hundreds of hours of time each week. Right now all accounting and record keeping is done by hand on huge pieces of paper with calculators, abaci, and white out. […I don’t think I’ve ever said the word “abaci” before. Before I wrote it I was wondering if the correct plural form might be “abacuses,” but my computer dictionary says otherwise. I think they might both be acceptable.]

Another idea I’ve been working on this week is forming an English Club. This would be an opportunity for people here who already know some English and just need practice speaking it. God knows being immersed in Russian has made it much easier for me to learn, and it’s got to be difficult for someone to learn a foreign language without being in that tongue’s native land. We’ll probably meet once or twice a week to speak or watch an English movie or cook an American dish. There are a few excellent students and 3-4 English teachers whom I think would really benefit from this activity. Many others who can tell you their names and how old they are (and not much more) seem interested as well, but I don’t think they’d get much out of it. On one hand, we can’t have too many people or it will get unwieldy. On the other hand, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings (or incur anyone’s wrath) by turning someone away. Pasmotrim (we’ll see)…

I’m on the twice a week shower schedule, which is fine for the winter. I am, however, looking forward to being able to use my sun-shower outside on a daily basis once the summer rolls around. Speaking of weather, it seems to be a bit of a damp climate – perfect for growing things and requiring everyone to constantly clean the mud off their pointy leather shoes. It’s very important here to have clean footwear. I’ve given up on that aspect of cultural integration and wear my dirty boots everyday, preferring unsightly footwear to cold wet feet.

I recently figured out how to access the internet through a dial-up connection at my home. The telephone (and internet) system is nationalized over here, so to get online from anywhere in the nation, you dial the same number, user name, and password (1900, Internet, and Total in case you wanted to know). The per minute charge gets tacked onto your monthly phone bill. It’s a pretty ingenious system.

My point in mentioning the internet is that I’ve never really felt before now the great and glorious and much lauded aspects of the grand Information Superhighway. In America, I had access to the internet pretty frequently, but if I didn’t it was no big deal. I could use my cell phone or land line to talk to friends and family or I could turn on the TV or grab a newspaper or magazine and know what was going on. But not here – and even after my Russian is second nature I still won’t have the same access to communication with people in America or access to reliable news reports. So, I have a new appreciation for the internet. It’s not just a technology that drains the minds of teenagers, but a pretty awesome tool and I feel pretty lucky to have it here in my small corner of the world …and for only 60 cents an hour.

Other (somewhat) interesting stuff:
I finally managed to get money from the bank. Over the past couple weeks I’ve made a few trips to the bank, one room with a safe on the second floor of a building that houses a food store, a photo development kiosk, and a home appliance kind of shop. Each time there’s been a long line and I never wanted to wait the 45 minutes it looked like it was going to take to get my cash, preferring to wait to visit the capital city where I can instantly get my money at an ATM. Well, eventually I happen to be near the bank when there are only 2 people waiting outside and figure, “You gotta do this sometime.” So I wait.

There’s a sign on the door that says people should wait outside and one person goes in at a time. One person comes out and the first guy goes in. Then another guy comes out and the lady waiting with me goes in. So now it’s just me in the hallway waiting by the bank’s heavy metal door. This “babushka” (grandmother) with the traditional leggings and burlap-looking house dress and handkerchief tied over her head starts walking down the hallway. This is not odd because the home appliance shop’s entrance is just beyond the bank’s. She sees me and I nod my head in acknowledgement, and then she opens the gray metal door and goes right in! What could I do? You can’t yell at a babushka! She's basically earned the right to cut me. So I adopt the patient, I’m a good Volunteer attitude and wait – but this time inside the door.

Once the guy, and the lady, and the babushka have finished their business it’s my turn. All seems to be going well until the teller asks for my passport, which is in some office in the capital awaiting processing by the Moldovan government for some special kind of work/volunteer/I’m-cool card. The good news is I have a stamped piece of paper with my picture on it from said office explaining why I don’t have my passport and that people should help me anyway. The bad news is that it’s in Romanian, which despite being the official language of this country neither the teller nor I nor anyone else in the room speaks or reads. So he calls some manager on the phone and starts asking him in Russian if he can give me any money. Fortunately, I can understand he’s saying “This guy doesn’t have his passport NUMBER.” I interrupt and say but I do have my passport number – it’s printed right there on the paper. The teller says “Oh, OK” and gives me my money.

Now, while I was unwilling to yell at a babushka for cutting me in line, don’t think I’ve gone soft. There’s a guy in my office who is always yelling and a few days ago he asks me where was I after lunch. I say I was at School #2. Then he starts yelling “Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?! I was there, too!” So this time I yell back, “I don’t need to tell you where I’m going! And why didn’t you tell me you were going there! Stop talking so loudly [in my excitement I forgot how to say “yell.”] I’m standing right here!” He seemed surprised and kind of walked away and I felt pretty awesome.

And I'm playing soccer tonight. Hopefully it will go well. I'm really excited about it.

Gobble, Gobble

Thanksgiving was a blast - all PCVs came into the capital for an AMAZING dinner prepared by PCVs for about 175 people. It far exceeded my expectations. We played football and held a talent show before and after dinner. Thanks to all who did the cooking and hope everyone back in the States had half as tasty a meal as I did.

Also, special thanks to Mark and Chrissy who recently finished their service and are right about now eating Chinese food in America. They treated Krista and I to an awesome meal in Chisinua. This picture is us being cold after the meal on the walk home to the hotel.

Random Pics from Copceac

This is how mud roads are transformed into paved ones.



Here's the high school that was started under the Soviet Union and abandoned when it collapsed.

A Good Day for a Dog

The last couple days I've been doing a lot of walking around town to explore. On my way to see the hospital/clinic - which I was surprised to see was pretty good - and introduce myself to the head doctor, I came across a puppy in distress.

He had managed to get his head stuck in an olive can and couldn't get out. Sadly, he was on the other side of a fence, so I couldn't reach him and he couldn't see me to move closer to the fence. As you can tell by the pictures, eventually I did manage to reach him through the fence and grab hold of the can long enough for him to pull himself out.




Peace Corps: making a difference one person... or dog at a time.

My Site

I decided not to go into work on Friday and instead upack and get settled in. I rearranged some furniture and with MacGuyver-like prowess repaired an essentially useless plastic covering over my very drafty window. [Duct tape: Never leave home without it]

This village does not have running water. Back in the days of the Soviet Union it did, but that infrastructure has gone the way of the dinosaurs. Nowadays, everyone gets their water from wells located throughout the village. They’re all about 75 feet deep and have a bucket attached to a chain with a handcrank. Everyday this is how I get my water.

I knew coming here the village was without running water, but for some reason it didn’t register with me that that also meant a low probability of finding working drains. In other words, anything you might pour down the drain – when you brush your teeth, wash dishes, do laundry, etc. – needs to be collected in a bucket of some kind and tossed outside. That made my first bucket/bowl shower a unique experience, standing in another large bowl to collect the water I poured over myself.

While were on the subject of water, take a look at the photo of the inside of my distiller after one use. There’s a lot of something in there – I think it’s lime. I showed it to my host mother and she said, “That’s why I only drink tea and not water.” Right.

I’ve started to make some friends – a few guys around my own age who were friends with Valentina’s sons, one of whom is a dentist in Moscow and the other is married with one daughter in a neighboring village.

As far as work goes, I still haven’t figured out exactly what I’ll do with my two years here. I’ve got to spend a few months just getting to know everyone and learning to speak the language better. I’ve wandered around town, poked my head into shops here and there to introduce myself, and usually greet kids on the street – and then laugh when they stare at me like I’m crazy. I don’t think people typically greet children they don’t already know, but I’m laying the groundwork for when they do know me. The other day I played the guitar at an office party, singing the one Russian song I know and a Beatles tune that I thought would at least be recognizable. Music is a great ice-breaker. For now, I’m content to finally have some time to myself – which was a rare commodity during training – and being the American celebrity in town.

Getting There

The swear-in ceremony and the preceding evening’s big group dinner were good, as expected. Highlights for me included performing a Russian song called “Poost” with my host-mother at the ceremony and then watching another group of volunteers bring the house down with a Moldovan dance performance complete with traditional dress. They were really great!

After the ceremony it was time to pick up all my things – one overnight bag at the hotel, 120 pounds worth of free weights that I bought from a departing PCV at the PC office, and then everything else at my host family’s house. [Incidentally, the driver sent by my new town’s mayor didn’t know how to get to the hotel where all PCVs had stayed the night before. Nonetheless, he kept saying he knew the way even when I knew he was on the wrong side of town. Eventually he asked some pedestrian (who also didn’t know the way) how to get there. Fortunately I knew. There’s something common among many 3rd world countries: no one ever wants to admit that they don’t know the way to somewhere. It’s as if it would be considered ruder to say “I don’t know the way” than to waste your time by driving aimlessly in the hope of finding the destination.]

The mayor’s office where I’ll be working sent a car, driver, and vice-mayor to pick me up, which was one more person than was really needed and took up vital space in the vehicle. On top of that, before we collected the bulk of my things from my house, we stopped off at one of the bazaars in the capital city so my two new co-workers could do some grocery shopping – not that I blame them for taking advantage of the opportunity. I’m just trying to convey my mounting sense of doubt about being able to fit everything I owned into a car that now had one extra person and enough food to feed… well, a lot of people.

So we get to my host family’s house and eventually manage to fit everything in the car and I have just enough room to sit completely still and every now and then breathe in the back seat. I said a tearful “dosvidanya” to my host family and set out on a bumpy three-hour ride.

When I arrived, I quickly moved everything into my new room; had a delicious dinner of potatoes, chicken, and a “salad” with my new host-mother, Valentina; and crawled into a very saggy bed and fell asleep.

New Contact Information

I have added my new contact information on the right. You can also send messages to my cell phone by clicking on the link. I will update more about my site in Copceac closer to Thanksgiving.

Swear-In, Part II

I've moved out of my training host-family's and will stay the night with all the other members of my group in the capital tonight. We'll be dining at a fine restaurant for our last civilized meal and then tomorrow afternoon we officially swear-in. I'll be playing a song on the guitar and singing in Russian with my host-mother. It's called "Poost," which is sort of translated loosely as "Ahhh, fuggetaboutit."

Then I leave immediately after swear-in for my new site. I'll probably be beyond the reach of the Internet superhighway over the next week while I figure out where everything is and whether I should visit the communal bit first thing in the morning or last thing at night...

But, I'll be back in the capital for a few days for a conference and a joint Thanksgiving dinner and talent show with all the PCVs. Will check email and make another post then. Ciao.

Wine Tour

We were fortunate enough to go on a winery tour of the State Enterprise Quality Wines Industrial Complex "Milestii Mici"(or for short and in English, Milesti Meech). It claims to be, and after being there I believe it, the largest wine cellar in the world. The catacombs were formerly tunnels for a lime mine, but for the last 40 years they’ve been reclaimed to serve as the maturing place for millions of liters of wine.

The tunnels have the ideal conditions for maturing wines. Located 40-85 meters (130-280 feet) below ground, they’re (obviously) dark and maintain a year-round temperature of 12-14 degrees Centigrade (in the mid-50s) and a humidity of 85-95% (we also use percentages in America, so I’m not going to bother converting this figure). There are 50km (31 miles) of tunnels passable by car and I saw several trucks down there being operated by some of the 350 workers who work underground every day.

Interestingly, this winery doesn’t have it’s own wine. It has no vineyards that produce grapes – it old acts as a holding place for others’ wines to mature, though apparently there are plans to purchase land and being producing their own grapes soon.

Oh, a word about the pictures… In most of the tunnels I saw there are these huge barrels along the walls, most 6 feet or more in diameter. The wine is pumped into the barrels, which never move, where it ages for a certain period of time, absorbing the flavor of the wood. Then it is bottled where it continues to age. All the specifics are way beyond me, but I admit I was impressed by the operation.

BDO

I must admit that my 2nd time through training is starting to wear on me. I’m ready to have a schedule of my own design, to start my real work, and to not have to sit through sessions that I already sat through back in Uzbekistan.

In part due to this desire for independence, 5 of us trainees opted out of a PC-organized day trip to southern Moldova (where I’ll be living for 2 years anyway). Instead, we decided to have a relaxing BDO (Boyz Day Out) in the capital. After meeting at noon, we wandered about town and chose a cheap kebab stand for lunch, sat in a park, drank real coffee in a café, hit another kebab stand for dinner, and capped off the evening with a screening of “Crash” at a small English movie theater. All in all, not a bad way to spend a day…

Pictured are the boyz in the movie theater, which is approximately the size of my living room and seats about 25 people in very comfortable slightly reclining seats, complete with a small table between every two seats for whatever drink you purchased at the downstairs bar and wish to enjoy during the film.

Gypsies in Soroca

Yesterday most of my group took a trip to the northern city of Soroca, directly across the Nistru River from Ukraine. There's an ancient castle there, through which we were able to roam. Afterwards we had lunch and listened to a panel discussion led by the Gypsy Baron (see the outrageous beard).

Here in Moldova - and probably throughout the world - Gypsies (or Roma in Romanian) are frequently discriminated against and stereotyped as a wild, theiving, dirty lot. We really didn't have much time to really get to know those Gypsies we did meet, but I found them to be very friendly, though torn between their traditions and changing to adapt to the modern world.

PS - Note the sign we saw in the castle - no smoking, no bathroom, and no sunflower seeds. Only in Moldova...

One friend of mine will be working with an Gypsy organization that seeks to improve the condition of this ethnicity and I look forward to hearing how his work goes.

I Had a Dream...

…in Russian. I suppose this first dream in a Russian is a good sign that the language is sinking into my subconscious and that fluency is just around the corner, though the jury is still out on whether it is just the first signal of an impending mental breakdown (just a joke, Mom – I’m fine). Regardless, I can’t for the life of me figure out what the dream’s plot means. Feel free to make comments here about your interpretation – best suggestion will get a prize (honestly!)

In my dream, I’m driving a car somewhere when it breaks down. I pull over to the side of the road. Two men appear and I explain the situation to them (in Russian) and they offer to take a look at my engine to see if they can fix it, which they soon realize they cannot do.

Then I see a watch in the back seat of my car and I think, “Maybe this watch belongs to one of the dudes who just tried to help me.” Being the fine gentleman that I am and not wishing to deprive anyone of their property, I ask if it belongs to them. Though I don’t really get an answer, one of them takes it.

Next I think, “Maybe it doesn’t really belong to one of them, but they just want a free watch.” So I say, “Hey, if that watch isn’t yours you should give it back. It might belong to one of my friends.” Again, they don’t give it back or say anything, but it becomes increasingly clear that the watch does not, in fact, belong to them.

Suddenly, I’m talking to some woman about the watch because apparently her daughter now has it. I tell her the watch must belong to one of my friends, to which she replies that perhaps the watch belongs to her daughter and it fell off in my car, to which I reply that I’ve never even seen her daughter before. At this point she relents, calls her daughter over, and returns the watch.

Then I woke up. A lei for your thoughts? [A lei (pronounced “lay”) is the Moldovan currency and is equivalent to about 8 cents. So, you’re actually getting a good deal – 8 pennies instead of the usual going rate of 1 – and the additional pleasure of being part of a joke with sexual innuendo because I’m offering to give you a “lay.” Isn’t explained humor funny?]

Home Cooking

Not that the food here has been terrible, but there’s no substitute for the quality or variety of home – especially when my family does the cooking. Knowing that the best way to the heart is through the stomach, I decided to give a dinner party for my host family and 12 other PCVs. The main course was home-made-from-scratch tomato sauce and pasta, with approximately 9 liters of month-old Moldovan wine. Special thanks to all who helped make the evening a success through financial contributions, culinary expertise, or musical talent for the post-dinner sing-a-long.

Here’s the recipe if those back in the States tire of Ragu or if those abroad want an excellent meal. I’m going to write what you need to feed 16 people with the metric system. You figure out the conversions.

Ingredients:
4 kilos of tomatoes
1 kilo onions1 kilo green peppers1 kilo chopped meat (beef) – this might be hard to come by outside the capital, but you might be able to substitute lamb or pork or make it vegetarian
red wine
olive oil – or cheaper oil is OK if it’s too pricey for you here in Moldova
garlic
oregano
bay leaves
salt
pepper
sugar
pasta

Directions:
I suppose it goes without saying, clean all the veges.
Cut a small “X” in the bottom of all the tomatoes and drop them into a pot of almost-boiling water for a few minutes. The skin will start to come off. Remove the tomatoes and peel the skin off and de-stem them.
Place these skinned tomatoes in a bowl and mash them with your hands.
Sautee the onions and green peppers and crushed garlic – about 4-5 cloves.
Brown the meat and pour off the excess fat.
Combine the meat, sautéed vegetables, and tomatoes in a big pot.
Cook for a few hours until it thickens to your liking. Add salt, pepper, oregano, bay leaves, sugar, and red wine to taste.
Make the pasta and eat!
Oh yeah – garlic bread goes well with this – just sautee up some additional crushed garlic and spread it on sliced bread with olive oil and bake for 5-10 minutes.

Connected

I got a cell phone today - thanks to departing PCVs who sold (or gave away) all their stuff at rock bottom prices. Won't post the number here, so write me if you want it. I can receive calls from the States on it and it won't use up any of my minutes. Of course, there's still the land-line option at my host family's house - number posted to the left - which will be good until I move to my permanent site in mid-November.

Cold

The weather has changed, and it keeps on changing which is really wreaking havoc on my fashion sense… In the morning when I leave for the day it’s pretty chilly and most buildings are not much warmer than the outside. But by the middle of the day it can be downright warm, and if you’re going to be on any kind of (crowded) public transportation for any period of time longer than 10 minutes, you better strip down before getting on – God knows there won’t be room to do so once the door closes. Layering is key…

Heat comes in two forms – gas or soba. Gas, I’m sure, most of you are familiar with. It’s used to heat water which warms radiators throughout the house which in terms warms the air. Gas is centrally controlled, meaning the government picks a certain day on which it is turned on – usually sometime in mid-November – and after that people can be somewhat warm, though most buildings never really get toasty. Sobas are sort of like think chimneys usually in the center of the house that radiate heat. One side of the chimney makes up part of a wall to a few rooms. Just about anything can be burned in these sobas – usually coal, wood, de-kerneled corn husks, dried corn stalks, or some mixture thereof.

At night, my room and much of the house I’m guessing hits somewhere in the low-50s. I’ve taken to using my wonderful longjohns and sleeping bag to stay warm. Fortunately, Peace Corps issued us portable electric radiators and will reimburse us for the added electricity they consume. Thus far, I’ve been very pleased with the operation of my unit, though I have no idea how I’m going to move this heavy beast to my site when training is over.

And of course, today I'm wearing a t-shirt because it's so damn hot.

My Site Visit

I'm back. My 3-day visit to my future work site is over, as is the 2-day conference that followed with all PCVs and their Moldovan counterparts. Here's the story…

I left my house around 2pm on Saturday to get to Chisinau's southern bus, Gard de Sud. I had already purchased my ticket that morning and felt pretty certain I knew where the bus would be. I was correct, and after a brief discussion with the "ticket-taker" at the door to the bus, I was settled. [I've since learned that this discussion was his complaint that I had already purchased my ticket from the counter inside the bus station. Apparently, sometimes you purchase the ticket directly from the bus driver – which is technically illegal and earns the driver a little extra cash – and sometimes you purchase the ticket at the ticket window. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one is proper and when.]

To say the bus is crowded would be like saying there are a few stars in the sky. The aisles are filled with extra plastic stools so more people can be squeezed on. There is no AC, only small air vents on the roof of the bus. These vents actually worked quite well until they were all shut by the locals once the bus got underway to ward off the deadly "current" (wind). Fortunately, I was prepared with several layers and so I stripped down as I tried to understand the onboard Russian-dubbed movie, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Along the way the country side flew by repetitively. Moldova is a land of farms, and most of the roads I was on passed black fields of rich soil. Tiring of reading and straining to understand Brad Pitt's Russian voiceover, I struck up a conversation with my neighbors, thereby announcing that I was, in fact, an American – as if my beard, longer hair, backpack, and clothes didn't already scream "I'm not from here!" This decision of mine (to converse with my neighbors) would come to play an important role when I disembarked in Copceac (pronounced Kop-chack) 3 hours later.

As we pulled into town, my southbound bus was flanked on the right by a beautiful setting sun and on the left by a rising full moon. All seemed right to me. I thought, "This is where I'm supposed to be."

And then I got off the bus and found no one to meet me.

Fortunately, one of my new bus friends, Valeri, was neighbor to the mayor, my counterpart, and walked me to his house, where no one was to be found. So, we went to Valeri's house where I met his wife and daughter, who went next door to get a phonebook so we could call the mayor's house to see if anyone was inside. We called and confirmed no one was there. So then I think I should go back to the bus station – which is really just where the bus dropped me off, not really a station at all. We do and again, no one is there. I thought I'd use the phone nearby in the main store to call Peace Corps, but that phone like the one at Valeri's house can only call within the village. So then I start calling the phone numbers I have for the families I'm supposed to meet on this trip to pick one with whom to live. Fortunately, one was home and came to pick me up at the store. From their house, I could call PC, who then called my counterpart on his cell, who then called me at the house to apologize. Apparently, he had asked someone to meet me because he had to shuck corn on his mother's farm and my bus had come in early, so that's why no one was there. Anyway, no harm done and it made for an adventure.

I've decided to live in an apartment with a single 50ish-year old teacher. Though the smallest of all the places and the only apartment I saw, it was clean and the woman, Valentina, seemed very interested in learning about America and was open to a new culture and sharing her own. She has two older sons who don't live there but occasionally visit. I met one and he seems very nice.

Sunday I spent with my counterpart, Oleg, and his friends visiting different families and watching several football (soccer) matches in a pretty great 2-year old stadium in the village, and drinking plenty of vodka. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Gagauzia is a semi-autonomous region of Moldova. The first language in my village is Gagauz, a Turkish dialect, followed by Russian. Very few speak Romanian, the official language of Moldova. Maybe after a year of Russian I'll start working on Gagauz…

Monday I met everyone in the office, cleaned my desk, and read a lot of my Russian dictionary and "Atlas Shrugged" while doing very little at my desk, which is in a separate room from everyone and everything else. Boring quickly of that, I went into Oleg's office where it seems he sees people all day long who come to him with their problems and he makes some phone calls to fix them. I also hung out with the 5 accountants who use huge pieces of paper, calculators, and white-out to keep track of the village's finances. I see an MSExcel training in their future…

All in all, it was a good trip. I like my counterpart a lot – he's smart, funny, and seems genuinely willing to work with me. I think I'll have a lot of freedom to do what I want – sort of a big fish in a small pond – and after a few months at site improves my language and I figure out what are the needs of the village and my office, I look forward to starting my work in earnest. For now, one more month of training…

Handicrafts

After learning our sites, we took off for a tour of local tradespersons’ homes and workshops. First stop, the spryest 83-year old man I have ever and probably will ever meet. He fought for two years in WWII and then spent 6 years after the war in a Russian POW camp. Now he has four children, the last of whom he fathered when he was 51 years old. He’s a blacksmith and an engineer and showed us all these formerly hand-powered machines that he rigged for electric power. One de-kernels cornhusks and another grinds the kernels into flower. He also pounds away on an anvil over hot coals making all manner of things.

Next stop was a local artist’s home. I think at the end of my 2 years I’ll go back and buy one of his paintings. He was very good and has a style similar to that of my own Mother (see the links to the right for her website).

Next was a local honey producer where I happily tried out his various honeys before purchasing a kilo for about $3. So good in my daily tea…

Last stop I didn’t really understand, but I think it was a family known for their needlework. After touring their home they treated us to Moldovan songs and dance, and to return the favor we sang “When the Saints Go Marching In” and did the Hokey Pokey. I think we got the better end of the bargain.

My Site

Well, it’s official – at the end of training I’ll be working in a mayor’s office in a village of about 10,000 people at the southern tip of Moldova. I found out on Wednesday and on Saturday I’ll be headed there alone for 3 days to meet my counterpart (the mayor) and my new host family. I’m really looking forward to it and will let you all know how the trip turned out towards the end of next week.

Our placement ceremony was uniquely presented. A large map of the country was drawn on the floor of a gymnasium and chairs were placed at each site throughout the country with the names of cities, towns, or villages on them. As PCVs’ names were pulled out of a hat, their sites were announced and each of us went to sit in our chair. By the end of the ceremony, you could look around and see who was near and who was far away – though in such a small country no one is really that far away.

The process by which PCVs’ sites are determined is different than it was in Uzbekistan. There, PCVs had several interviews with staff members in which they answered questions about their preferences – rural vs. urban, east vs. west, proximity to other PCVs, desire to work on a particular issue, etc. Then, toward the end of training each PCV was handed a manila envelope and on the count of 3 we all tore open our packages and found where we were headed for 2 years.

Not so in Moldova. Here, we are given the applications that organizations filled out to get a PCV and have about a week to review them. [Of course, we’re only given the applications that Peace Corps approved. I don’t know how many organizations apply for a Volunteer or how many are approved or rejected, but there must be some that get turned down. Or at least I hope there are.] Then we rank our top-3 and turn in our choices. PC staff tries to accommodate our preferences, but ultimately the decision rests with them.

'Tis the Season

The season for making wine, that is… Though Moldova occupies 0.2% of the former Soviet Union’s land area, at one point it produced 13% of the USSR’s wine. To say Moldovan’s love their wine would be a gross understatement. Virtually every house here has a sizable garden and most of those include grapevines. Last week seemed to be the harvest time when the grapes were picked and crushed to being making the vino. Sadly, I was busy on the weekend and couldn’t help out (but there’s always next year… and the year after that!) I did, however, get some pictures and thought you might be interested in how wine is made the old fashioned way.

First you pick the grapes and drop them in a big bowl (pictured below). Then you squash the grapes and basically let it sit for a few days. Apparently the skin of the grape is what gives the wine its flavor, so you want the juice to marinate in the skins for a little while. Then you transfer the wine to a large holding tank that most families seem to have in their basements where you add sugar to taste. Then let it sit, or bottle it in old plastic bottles and drink over the rest of the year. Pretty simple, really.

To celebrate the occasion, there were festivals everywhere. I went into the capital city, Chisinau on Saturday to soak in the occasion. On Sunday my hometown, Ialoveni, had its own festival at which I was asked to perform what has become my pay-dirt song, “Hotel California,” and then play some blues with my harmonica-playing fellow PCV, Adam. As you can see we both got flowers, which (I’m pretty sure) means they liked our music.

A Capital Trip

October 05
Last Saturday we were turned loose in the capital, Chisinau (pronounced Key-shin-now in Romanian or Key-shin-nyov in Russian). It's an interesting place. In general, it's wealthier than Uzbekistan, but still has a wide range between the poor or middle class who shop in the open-air markets and bazaars and the rich who eat at McDonald's (there are 3 of them in the capital and it's actually a sign of high status to be able to eat at one) or shop in the rich stores - I poked my head into a Hugo Boss and Puma store where a pair of sneakers cost the equivalent of $100 - the same amount my host father makes in a month.

After picking up some hangers, oranges, and a beard-trimmer to replace the one I brought from America and somehow fried on the voltage over here, we visited the PC Office and then hit a Middle-Eastern restaurant named, "Class" for a fantastic lunch. I have hummos, tabouli, and shish taouk and can't wait to go back there! Just like being at King of Shish Kebab back in Jersey...

We also saw the US Embassy, which I cannot go into despite my American citizenship, unless I have an appointment or its an emergency; one movie theater that shows films in Russian and another that shows them in English; a place that can develop digital photos; and in general figured out the layout of the city.

Necks

My host mother makes a decent chicken soup, and there are these U-shaped pieces of meat that are very boney. Turns out they're chicken necks. The meat is good, but you really have to pick it off with your fingers - it's a little gross to try to chew it off because all these little vertebrae keep getting in the way of my teeth.

More Background...

Today a couple folks from the US Embassy led an excellent session on the recent political history of Moldova. Here’s what I learned…

What is now known as Moldova has at one time or another been a part of various empires. Within the last century, it has gone back and forth between Romania and the former Soviet Union and it is still pulled in both directions as well as toward embracing its new independence. A couple important dates:

1812 – Moldova (called Bessarabia) becomes part of Russia
1917 – The Bolsheviks take control in Russia and agree to withdraw from Moldova to appease Germany
1920 – Moldova becomes part of Romania again, as it was before 1812
[Russia and Romania do not maintain diplomatic relations during WWI over dispute about ownership of Moldova/Bessarabia
post-WWII: Romania takes over Moldova and Transylvania, doubling its size
1924 – The USSR creates the Moldovan Autonomous Soveit Socialist Republic (MASSR) comprised of parts of current western Ukraine and current Transinistria (a currently disputed territory on the east coast of Moldova – see more on Transinistria below). The MASSR is essentially set up to allow the USSR to continue to lay claim to the rest of Moldova/Bessarabia, which is still controlled by Romania. The MASSR claims the city of Chisinau as its capital even though it lies within the borders of the Romanian controlled Moldova.
1941 – The Romanians attack as part of the Axis powers during WWII. They take much land in the MASSR and Ukraine
post-WWII: The USSR reclaims all lost territory. Current boundary of Moldova and Ukraine is set, with Transinistria as part of Moldova
1991 – USSR collapses and Moldova becomes an independent nation.

When Moldova declared its independence, two parts of the new country also declared their own independence – Gaguzia in the south and Transinistria in the east. These two areas were concerned that the newly independent nation of Moldova might wish to rejoin Romania, which they did not wish to do being more aligned with the former-USSR and Russia. In 1992 a civil war broke out between Transinistria and Moldova in which 300 people were killed before a cease-fire was negotiated. In 1994 Moldova officially adopted its Constitution and Gaguzia agreed to accept a special status as a semi-independent part of Moldova; Transinistria does not accept the same deal.

Transinistria still remains in a sort-of limbo. This tiny sliver of land between Moldova and Ukraine claims independence, but is not recognized by any other nation. It has its own currency and Russian troops act as peace keepers. It’s sort of like an open sore on Moldovan’s border and I do not think the nation can move far forward – and it certainly cannot gain entry into the European Union – until this issue is resolved.

The Routine

Life has settled into something of a routine. – up everyday at 6:45, eat breakfast and walk 30 minutes to language class (or occasionally take a marshutka, but that somehow feels like cheating when the weather is nice), 4 hours of language, then lunch, and then spend the rest of the day either studying language or doing some other kind of work. I recently found a gym at which I can work out 3 times a week – plus 75 cents for each additional visit – for about $7 per month. There’s also a somewhat daily basketball game on a pretty terrible court behind a local school. Some of the Moldovans are pretty good, but they haven’t really mastered the pick yet, which I’ve been using to my advantage. Evenings are for dinner with the fam, shower, homework, reading, practicing the guitar (if I have the time), or entertaining guests and neighbors who stop by. I usually hit the sack pretty worn out by 10:30, but have yet to sleep through the night on account of the neighbors’ dogs who think it important to bark at everything between the hours of 4 and 6am.

One non-language assignment that has been taking up my time is to essentially explore your town and report back on what you found. My friend Adam and I have taken some artistic liberty and are making very hard-hitting a “mockumentry.” Highlights thus far include an interview with the 9-year old leader of a deadly gang of ruffians that rule the streets and my attempt to interview a dentist while he performs a root canal. [What can I say? I knocked on the door and he told me to come in!]
Two days a week all the PCTrainees come into my town from neighboring villages for our “Hub Days.” These include sessions from PCAdmin on everything from preventing diarrhea to opening a bank account. On our last Hub Day, we gave feedback on the training thus far. I give the staff a lot of credit for opening themselves up to constructive criticism, but that’s the best way to get better. Overall, we all thought PC was doing a bang-up job. Their organization and language teachers received very high marks and hopefully our suggestions for additional language classes and time to get to know the PCTs in villages besides our own will be implemented.

Background

Last Thursday part of my training included an excellent presentation by an employee of the Urban Institute. He is a former PCV himself, and later served as a PC Country Director in three nations. Anyway, it was one of the best non-language trainings I’ve received.

The part that most interested me concerned the Moldovan economy and how it can move forward, or at the very least out of its current position as the poorest nation in Europe. Currently 6-900,000 citizens of Moldova work outside the country. Considering that the national population is only slightly more than 4 million, a considerable percentage of the workforce is employed outside the national economy. Essentially, there are no jobs to be found here – or at least not high paying ones – so Moldovans go abroad to get them.

Case-in-point, my host father earns about $100 per month working at a phone company, and my mother makes $40 per month as a music teacher at a school. Currently, my host father is on “vacation” from his phone job because there happens to be a construction job available right now that pays better. When the construction job is over, so will be his vacation and he’ll return to the lower-paying telecom employment. A few years ago, he spent a year in Portugal working construction and both of his parents are there now also employed in construction.

The money earned overseas finds its way back (legally or illegally) to Moldova - $1 billion in 2004 alone – usually to support family living here. If this money were invested it might help pull the nation out of its downward economic spiral, but most of it is spent on food and other necessities of life, and not infrequently on large houses. This last commodity is often viewed as a sound investment, for the government has not (yet) taken peoples’ homes, whereas investments in businesses are subject to the expenses of corruption, arcane tax laws, and sometimes the whims of local and national officials.

[Incidentally, in a couple years (I think) Romania will become part of the EU and because Moldova and Romania used to have overlapping borders, some Moldovans are entitled to Romanian as well as Moldovan passports. Should Romania become part of the EU, Moldovans with Romanian passports will be able to travel and work freely in virtually any European nation, as opposed to the current necessity of securing work visas from host countries (if the work is going to be done legally). This is both good and bad. Good because some Moldovans will be able to secure better jobs more easily and potentially send more money home; bad because more Moldovans may flee their homeland, perhaps permanently.]

One suggested reform by the Urban Institute is for the government to make it more attractive for locals to invest locally in things that will provide ongoing sources of revenue, i.e. small businesses. This doesn’t necessarily mean that the government should create large business parks or tax breaks, but at least a fair shot at making a profit. In a sense, “If you build it, they will come.” In American, 65% of local taxes are spent locally, for which citizens receive police and fire protection, decent roads, schools, and hospitals. In Moldova, 5% of local taxes are spent locally. Meaning, there is a very top-heavy government system in this former Soviet republic and little chance for even the best local officials to drastically change things for the better.

Internet

Posting pictures to this blog is becoming difficult because Microsoft, which hosts this blog on MSN Spaces, requires you to download some sort of program in order to post a picture. But, many internet cafes don't allow you to download anything for fear of contracting a virus. And my Apple computer can't work with Microsoft software even if I could hook it up at an internet cafe (which I can't). All of which is an excuse to say - as my brother recently put in an eloquent email to me, "Have pics, will post, trying. So don't ask."

Rockstars

Turns out this M-17 group is quite musical. There are at least 5 people who know how to play the guitar, 2 harmonica players, and one pianist. [We’re thinking, only somewhat jokingly, of forming a band.] Anyway, at the welcoming party for the 6 PCVs in my town after a round of Moldovan songs and dance, we were asked to perform. Sadly, I must admit that our first foray into expressing our American heritage through the arts was none other than the Electric Slide performed to some live Moldovan accordion and drum music played by an 10- and 12-year old boy, respectively. Next we fetched my guitar and rallied with sing-a-longs to Home on the Range, She Was Just 17, some Russian song that another PCV knew, some blues and harmonica duets, Hotel California, and closed with Yesterday.

I returned home with my family and fellow PCV Adam for a long dinner and discussion, followed by more blues performances for neighbors who stopped by.

Tomorrow starts work in earnest with my first full week of language classes. Looking forward to settling into a schedule and giving up some of my newly found groupies for some quality time with my Russian/English dictionary…

Settled

I’ve moved in with my new host family, where I’ll live for the next 3 months of training. I’m living in a regional capital about 30 minutes outside Chisinau, the capital of Moldova, but for all intents and purposes it’s a tiny village surrounded by farmland.

My host family – Vadim, Oxsana, and their 9-year old daughter Katrina – is wonderful. I’m their second PCV, but the first to have my Russian skills at a conversational level right off the bat. My first dinner went a lot more smoothly than the charades game I played for my first month in Uzbekistan and I think things will only get better from here. Vadim built this house himself, and I must admit I’m happy to see he included a hot bath and indoor toilet… There’s also a small sitting area where we eat outside when the weather is nice, though it seems I’ve brought the cold with me. After our first day in the 70s, the weather has turned cool and I usually wear a sweater. Oxsana is a music teacher who was pleased to see I brought my guitar and knew the piano – I’m hoping she’ll teach me some Russian songs.

A total of 6 of the 38 new volunteers are learning Russian, and all save one have previous experience with the language. As a result, we’re able to start at a much higher level and I think between 4 hours of language most days and living with a (talkative) Russian family, I should progress fairly quickly. Perhaps I’ll try my hand at Romanian after a year or so. Unlike Russian and similar to English, Romanian is derived from Latin and thus shares many similar words and in general is an easier language to learn.

Moldova is a lush farming nation. One difference between here and UZ I noticed immediately as we were flying in is the lack of lights at night. So much of the country is farmland that you don’t see headlights or streetlights or even lights coming from houses or apartments. Even the capital city seemed dark by comparison to Uzbekistan.

Quick story about the soil: When God made the earth, he was handing out pieces of land to the different peoples. Everyone wanted the best land and it was given out first. Gradually, the less fertile land was distributed until every part of the earth was given out. Then the Moldovans came (late), so God decided to give them a piece of heaven instead.

Sleep still comes in fits and starts. I’ve yet to adjust completely to the new time zone – I keep resisting the desire to take long naps around 10am and have yet to sleep through the night – I’m actually writing this entry after tossing and turning for a good couple of hours.

I'm Here

Just a quick note to let you know that I've arrived safely in Moldova and things are going great. There was a slight... OK, major SNAFU with our bags in Istanbul. Instead of resting in a comfortable bed at the airport hotel we were scrambling to buy a Turkish visa so we could get our bags (which were stuck in baggage claim because they were only checked through to Turkey), then re-check-in and go through security with all of our luggage in order to get it to Moldova. Somehow we made it. Welcome to the Peace Corps, eh?

I meet my host family tomorrow and will try to post some pictures when the office isn't crowded with all the new volunteers trying to email their friends and families messages just like this one.

A Heartbreaker

As yet another final hurrah, my friend Hal and I and our two fathers attended the last of a three game series between the division-leading, World Series Champions, and all-round excellent Boston Red Sox and the Evil Empire (aka NY Yankees). It was a beautiful day, we had a fine tailgate in the parking lot outside Yankee Stadium, and then the pitching duel began… Tim Wakefield worried us for a moment when he let up a solo homer in the first inning, but the knuckle-baller then proceeded to strike-out a career high 12 batters over the course of the rest of the game and held the Yankee sluggers scoreless for the remainder of the game. Sadly, despite a promising article I read in that day’s newspaper about a disappointing season for Yankees pitcher, Randy Johnson, the Big Unit was in the zone. He held our beloved Sox scoreless through seven solid innings. The game got exciting as the Sox rallied in the 8th and 9th innings, but alas it came to naught and I was forced to endure many a taunting by (misguided) Yankee fans. Still the Sox hold a 3-game lead over the Yankees in the AL-East. Go Sox!

The Final Bagna Cauda

Saturday brought a renewed sense of urgency to packing. The spare bedroom that had become a disaster area of suitcases, clothes, and assorted piles of “definitely taking,” “maybe,” and “to send” began to regain some semblance of order as my assorted belongings seemed to march themselves into their proper pieces of luggage – a la the brooms in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. I think the urgency came from knowing that my extended family would be arriving at 5pm for my going away party and a feast of bagna cauda. “Bagna-what?” you ask? Bagna cauda (pronounced bon-ya cow-da, and literally means “hot caldron”) is a northern Italian dish that my family has been making for years. It’s basically a fondue in which one cooks cubes of steak, onions, cabbage, mushrooms, peppers, etc. The fondue is made of oil, butter, LOTS of garlic, and a secret ingredient that I cannot blab to such a large online audience. Suffice to say, it’s pure ambrosia. Of course, the food was only the icing on the cake, which was getting to see my family one last time. It was also the first time I saw my 6-week old cousin, Jett, (yes, that’s right, his name is Jett). He is, of course, adorable. I can’t imagine how he and my 3-year old nephew will look and act 2 years from now. Saying goodbye was hard.

Glory Days

On Friday I returned to my alma mater, Kittatinny Regional High School, to speak about my 6 months with the Peace Corps in Uzbekistan. One’s job as a PCV continues even after returning from abroad. Then, we are to share our knowledge and experiences with American citizens in order to promote a greater understanding between the peoples of the world. I have to admit when I first made the offer to speak over a 6am breakfast with two former teachers, I thought I’d be speaking to one or two classes. Instead I spoke non-stop for 7 of the 9 periods and was pretty hoarse by the end of the day. Nonetheless, I’m glad I was afforded the opportunity to speak. At the very least the students know a little more about Uzbekistan and a handful seemed very interested in potentially serving in the Peace Corps after college. [If you’re a student or teacher at Kittatinny and have questions about Uzbekistan, Moldova, or Peace Corps, feel free to drop me a line.] Special thanks to Scotty and Tommy for hooking me up on the speaking circuit.

The Long Wait

I'm posting today from the Apple Store in the Rockaway Mall. I brought my new Apple in because I was having some problems making movies of my 3-year old nephew (not those kinds of problems, you sicko), and though the folks here have been very helpful, we're essentially at the stage now where we have to let the computer attempt to make another movie - about a 3 hour process - to see what exactly is wrong. To amuse myself, I'm surfing the web on their in-store computers, reading exiting novellas like, "Mac OsX Tiger Edition - The Missing Manual" and the back of every software box or game in the store. [This is a good reason to always carry a book with you - you never know when you'll have to sit in the same place waiting with nothing to do for long periods of time] Unfortunately, to leave my computer here would cost $150, so that option is definitely closed.

A Billion and 1 Things

The countdown to Peace Corps Moldova has begun and I've got some shizzile to do.

1. Mom is anxious to have me use my newfound wicked awesome decking skills to replace a broken stair on our deck.
2. Buy a hammock, socks, a sun shower, and a winter hat.
3. Finish making 9 more DVDs of my nephew - including a few pictures from our recent Scottish festival (see below)
4. Mentally prepare for attending the Sept. 11 Red Sox / Yankees game.
5. Uh, pack.
6. Start a blog for my Mom and her artwork - keep your eyes peeled on the "links" for (you guessed it) a link to her website.
7. Get new lenses for my glasses.
8. Find a good used book store and go crazy. Sadly, all the books that were sent via an M-bag to Uzbekistan arrived the week after I was evacuated. They were sent back to the States, but haven't made it yet and I'm pretty sure never will. [Suggestions for good reads are most welcome]
9. Figure out my new camera.
10. Cancel my car insurance and AAA membership - no driving for this guy in Moldova!
11. Lots of other little things - buy some canned pumpkin to bring to Moldova for a big PC Thanksgiving meal, send in rebates for various new purchases, attend a going away party, etc.

Sorry for the slightly mundane nature of the post, but I felt I had to do something due to recent beratings by friends who shall remain nameless (Graham and Krista) about the infrequency of my postings.

Taking the plunge

I find myself contentedly drowning in sea of Mac vs. PC. You see, I've recently purchased an Apple Powerbook and Ipod, and I'm in the process of tranfering and converting all files from the old, too-heavy Dell to the sleek, small Apple. It's at once both interesting to find out about all these new things that Apple can do, but sometimes frustrating as hell to "waste" all this time when I should be studying Russian or playing with my nephew or doing something more productive (or relaxing).
But, I've been assured by those who have made the switch before me that the headaches now will be worth it later. I hope so.

My New Job!

I'm fulfilling a lifelong dream of working construction - basically building porches. So now I'll be able to fulfill another dream of mine - build my own house someday - or at least in theory I'll be able to build the deck.

The work is physically hard and the days are long, but it's great to be outside and using my hands. I work in a crew with 2 others - George and Greg - and I think we'll get along just fine.

I'll try to post some pictures to this post in the near future - toolbelt and all - but I feel like I've got to get to know my co-workers a little better before I start clicking photos of them on the job

A Monumental Tour

Yesterday my friend, Tobi, and I toured the monuments of DC. We stopped by to see Lincoln, WWII, good ol' TJ (Thomas Jefferson), FDR, Korea, Vietnam, and saw - but did not go up - the Washington. We also poked our heads in to the EPA to visit a friend, the Holocaust Museum, and strolled past the White House and where the sold out US Mint tours begin.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a day. I was very impressed by all the monuments and thought them extremely well done.

It makes one wonder about our world leaders today. Though some do indeed seem "great," none really compare to the FDRs or Lincolns of old. Do we just fail to see the greatness in our current leaders because they are in our midst and haven't had the benefit of time to immortalize them? Or is there something lacking in our leaders of today that the great ones had?

And as a side note, the Dept. of Agriculture is HUGE!!! What exactly goes on there I have no idea, but I'm pretty sure each American farmer must have his own personal representative there.

To Be(ard) or Not to Be(ard)?

Since returning to the States, I've gone and grown a beard. The question, however, is was this a wise move? Few things so alter a man's appearance, and frankly I'm just not certain as to whether this provides an improvement or not. In any case, I enjoy not shaving, so for the time being I'm going to keep it.

Penny for your thoughts?

Panera Bread & My Story

I love Panera Bread cafes. The food is good, quick, fairly healthy, and not too expensive. And, they have recently installed 100% free wireless internet at nearly all of their locations. So, I'm able to munch on a snack while accomplishing many important and necessary online tasks - such as this, my first posting on my new web log - or blog for the tech savvy.

I've decided to create this blog because in January of 2005 I joined the Peace Corps in Uzbekistan. Long story short, after just over 5 months there, the Peace Corps program in that nation was shut down and all Peace Corps staff and volunteers were evacuated due to... well, I'll just say increased tensions in the region.

Many of the PCVs went directly to other other nations to continue their service, some decided they were done with Peace Corps, and others (like me) took the middle road - coming back to the States for a short time before beginning in another Peace Corps country. I will be going to Moldova, a Maryland-sized nation between Romania and Ukraine in mid-September, 2005.

In the mean time, I'm hoping to have some adventures in the US, get in shape, work at REI, see friends and family, a gear up for another PC experience.

Check back from time to time for more updates as the summer progresses, and especially after I leave for Moldova.

My Early Homecoming

Hello All,
I'm back! I'm writing this email from my home in NJ. After about 31 hours of travel in 2 taxis, a bus, 4 planes, and my parent's car, I arrived at good ol' 30 Fredonia Rd. around 11pm on June 1 and promptly feel asleep. After sending this email, I plan to eat a bagel, drink some orange juice, and unpack. Most things beyond that immediate future are a blur and I've decided to put off thinking about them until tomorrow.

That being said, I can tell you that I'll be "re-upping" with the PC in Moldova (a small country sandwiched between Romania and Ukraine) in mid-September. They speak Romanian and a little bit of Russian there, so I'll be able to continue improving my "Rusky." The political landscape is vastly different from Uzbekistan, with a more Western-leaning president and a government that enjoys a good relationship with PC and the US Embassy. The physical landscape is different too - rolling hills filled with vineyards instead of dessert filled with sand.

I'm looking forward to the opportunity to see another country. Plus, this time I know how to pack and I'll be the cool PCV who's done it all before. I can make up all kinds of stories about what I saw and did in Uzbekistan and no one can ever prove me wrong!

Other plans include visiting friends, finding some kind of gainful employment for the summer, perhaps subletting an apartment somewhere, taking in a Red Sox game or two, and finding a Russian and guitar teacher (not necessarily the same person).

Other members of my UZ-18 class went immediately to a new PC country (Mongolia, Moldova, Romania, Azerbaijan, El Salvador), or are waiting like me for a few months in the States for their programs to start (in South Africa, Moldova, Surinam, Ukraine), or they're finished with PC, or they're waiting to see what other options PC can come up with. All of these transfer options were developed very quickly over Memorial Day Weekend, when everyone in the PCHQ in DC was on vacation. Though none of us were happy to leave a place in which we had begun to build our lives, I think everyone is excited about new opportunities - and now we know people all over the world and can go visit on the cheap...

[Oh yeah, my big plan to surprise my parents failed completely because my brother let the cat out of the bag. He was visiting my folks in NJ and checking his email there and yelled out to my parents, "Hey, I've got an email from Brad." So they came over and started reading it together - and to be fair, I only wrote "DON'T TELL MY PARENTS" at the end of my letter.]

That's all for now. If you'd like to read what I had started to write for my next update - prior to learning that I would be leaving Uzbekistan - see below. Some of the things are just reminders or notes to myself to mention certain things.

So here I am, pretty much settled in. I don't really get ripped off in the bazaar anymore, have made some local friends, and know where most things are on account of a map I made (because there are no city maps available for purchase in this country) by spending a day just trying out all the different marshutkas (minivan buses). I did wind up switching host families to a Russian speaking one and I'm certain that was a good move for my language skills, though perhaps not the best choice for my culinary palette. Most meals here consist of cabbage and potato soup or plov (rice, carrots, oil, and a little bit of meat). I've started to supplement my diet with eggs, cheese, bananas, sausage, and other assorted goodies from the bazaar. Ironically, my first bout of diarrhea since arriving in Uzbekistan came before I switched families. Maybe there's something to this bland food after all...

Some of you may have heard about the violence that took place in Andijon, one of Uzbekistan's 12 regions (a region is similar to a state in the US). For now, over email, suffice to say all PCVs are and always were safe. You back in the States probably have a better idea of what happened than I do because many of the news services were cut in Uzbekistan. I live on the other side of the country from Andijon, and life here was completely normal. Peace Corps was on top of the situation, sending us up-to-date information by phone and email, and should the situation have escalated, would have taken appropriate actions to secure all PCVs' safety.

Funny story of the month:
I, like all PCVs, have a bank account into which PC deposits our monthly living allowance. And from time to time PCVs must go to the bank to get said allowance to do said living. And therein lies the problem. The bank (and there really is only one bank in this country) doesn't like to give out money. I have both an ATM card and a bank book. Knowing full well that oftentimes the ATM machine doesn't work or is simply out of cash, I thought I'd be bold and attempt to use it anyway. [Point of interest: everyone's card - and I mean everyone's card in the whole country - has the password "1." Though you can change your password - and I have so you can forget about stealing my $100 life savings - few people actually do. So, for the most part, if you steal someone's card you'll have no problem accessing their account.] So I try the machine and it says my card is not acceptable. Turns out the bank is in the process of changing from one kind of card to another kind of card. I have the newer card and the program for this card will not be installed on the ATM machine for 3-4 months. So I go to get money the old fashion way: from a real person... or really I should say from a whole team of people. First I go into one room where I get a document like an IOU from the bank for the amount of money I wish to withdraw. Then that document needs to be signed by a higher up person. I happen to get the VP of the bank to sign mine, but he wants to chat first and practice his English that he learned during a trip to NYC. We have some tea and I tell him about Boston and he tells me about living in Brooklyn and so it goes for about half an hour until I decide I've schmoozed enough and say I really have to be going so could he please sign my IOU so I can get my money? So then he signs it and I go to a 3rd room where the cashiers work. About three dozen people are waiting for their money but because I'm American I'm ushered straight to the front of the line where I knock on a little wooden door in the wall. The door opens and I hand the man my signed IOU, he closes the door, and 2 minutes later hands me 25,000 sym ($25). I'm told future transactions will be faster and hour-long runaround only took so long because it was the first time. We'll see. For now, I'm inclined to take out as much money as possible each time to lower the frequency of bank trips.

Went to a Cinqo de Mayo party with 30 PCVs - had my only case of diarrhea in Uzbekistan the whole time I was at the party

Was supposed to teach music for 2 weeks at a summer camp
finishing organization assessment - what is says. Really interesting community advocacy work going on - first of its kind - people here are waiting for the government to fix everything, but the government isn't going to - those days of the USSR are gone, so it's difficult to get the people to realize they must speak up for themselves - It seems that previous campaigns have been more about trying to berate or force government officials to do what the people want, rather than give them hero opportunities to make them look and feel good - which is ultimately a better way to get things done because it provides for a better future working relationship.