We've got The Gap!

There's a factory in my village, and ever since I learned of it's
existence I've been meaning to stop by for a tour. As the largest
employer in the village with 500 workers, it's pretty important that
I at least have a basic knowledge of what goes on there. I've put it
off until a couple days ago, largely because I had heard that the
director of the factory did not allow such things and I didn't want
to be rejected. He's certainly within his rights here, but it's not
exactly the warm welcome I would want. I had asked one of my friends
in the mayor's office to take me, thinking that he might be able to
facilitate something, but just like I had asked him to take me to the
two schools, the hospital, and the farm association those requests
are always delayed and delayed. So, as I've done with the other
organizations, I went alone and hoped that by playing the "American
card" I'd get a look inside.

[Just bear in mind how strange this is. Imagine going up to a school
or hospital or factory where you've never been and no one knows you
and asking if you can spend the day there or meet with the director
or get a tour. People would think you're crazy! Now imagine a
foreigner who only speaks broken English doing this in America. It
would be strange, to say the least. Well, this is similar to the
situation in which I often find myself, but it seems the only
effective way to really meet people and understand things - you just
have to jump in.]

I schmooze with one of the guards at the gate, who turns out to be
the father of a girl I know, so he agrees to give me a visitor pass
[this, in and of itself impressed me - I was not expecting to ever
see an official looking "Visitor Pass" that clips onto my shirt]. I
get inside and meet the vice-director, Sergeiz who only speaks
Turkish - the factory is owned by Turks - and the director, Anatoli
who turns out lives across the street from me.

They have lots of questions for me about American foreign policy,
which are always tricky questions for PCVs to answer (or avoid), both
because of the difficult words such conversations require and because
it seems the foreign policy for which America is known runs
countercurrent to the Peace Corps goals of world peace and friendship
- and PCVs throughout the world have a difficult enough time
convincing locals that they're not spies and actually chose to come
live here. Fortunately, all three of us have generally the same view
of what American policy should be, so the conversation goes
smoothly. I show them pictures on my laptop and they offer me tea
and coffee.

I was under the impression that this factory made blankets or socks
or something that was sold domestically in Moldova. So I ask what
exactly they make, and Sergeiz leaves and returns with a light blue
Old Navy women's tank top! They go on to say that they also make
some t-shirts for Banana Republic, which I later see during a tour of
the facility. I tell them that when I was a college student I worked
an a Banana Republic store - who knows, maybe I sold something they
made. We all have a good chuckle.

Anatoli gives me a tour of the place and I see where the workers sit
and sew. There are two floors and two daily shifts and in the
basement are boxes of finished products with addresses for New York
and Tennessee that are shipped out each week. The whole factory
basically makes these light tank tops, each section of the factory
sewing a different color.

I decided to press my luck and ask if I could take a picture of where
people work, which was politely refused - I think he's worried I'm
going to report poor working conditions to someone. I think when
they first opened the factory 3 or 4 years ago there were some health
problems that have since been taken care of. And though I'm no
representative of OSHA, it seemed to me that everything was AOK.
But, he agrees to let me photograph him and his upper management in
their offices, which is what you see here.

I'd like to work with Anatoli. He has a good head for business and
said he's a trained economist. We talked about the different things
that the village needs - better roads, running water, street lights,
etc. - and his belief that the best way to achieve these things is
not solely through grants from international organizations, but
through widening the tax base by attracting more industry to the
village. He's got an idea for remodeling an abandoned wine factory
so that instead of just selling grapes, our village could sell wine
and make a bigger profit. Or instead of remodeling our Cultural
Center, we should remodel the movie theater because it could become a
functioning business. So if there are any investors out there
reading this, come to Copceac! I asked him how the Gap found
Copceac, and either he didn't really know or it got lost in the
translation or a little of both.

Now all we need is a Starbucks and it'll be just like Smalltown, USA.

Thanks for the SPA

Thanks are due to certain nameless folks (Hal, Dave, David, Mom &
Dad, Z&K, Anna Banana, and JRC) for their Holiday packages and
letters). It's nice to come into the office after a long stint at
site and see lots of mail... but what a pain in the arse getting it
back to my village. For Pete's sake, stop sending the encyclopedias
and bowling balls!

The reason I was in the capital these last 36 hours was for a meeting
of the Small Project Assistance (SPA) Committee. Most if not all PC
posts have a SPA Committee, which is a relatively easy way for PCVs
to receive up to $3,000 to fund a community development project at
his/her site. Communities must contribute up to 25% of the grant in
a combination of cash and in-kind donations, and the project must be
sustainable. The committee that approves, rejects, or suggests
changes to projects is comprised of 4 PCVs and 3 staff members.

This meeting was my first, and at it we reviewed two projects. The
first was to purchase additional plates and utensils for a school of
800 students. Currently the schools has 250 place settings which are
quickly washed between lunch periods. However, there is not enough
time to properly disinfect everything, which among other reasons has
led to an unusually high incidence of Hepatitis A in the school.
[Fully disinfecting requires a 30-minute soak in a chlorine mixture,
or a 30-second exposure to a certain Adam G's sense of humor -
ZING!] With these new place settings and health education classes
about washing hands, those Hep A cases should diminish. I thought it
was a very good project proposal, and after the committee tweaked a
few things, it was funded.

The second proposal involved remodeling an old, dark, cold library.
New books will be purchased, new lighting and a better-insulated
window installed, old radiators from a burned down building reclaimed
and placed in the library, and two unnecessary and drafty doors
sealed up. A request for a computer to more efficiently keep track
of loaned books was only partially funded, the committee ultimately
deciding that a cost-benefit ratio favored continued use of the "card
in the back of the book" system. Again, I thought is was a good
project and well-presented by the PCV and his/her counterpart.

[The whole "his/her" thing is my attempt to walk the fine line of
sharing information with folks back home about the good work PCVs are
doing and how PC helps them do it without sharing too much about the
Committee's deliberations or the specifics of the application {like
bribe offers that I would never ;) ever ;) ;) under any
circumstances ;) ;) ;) accept}. Hopefully I'm doing a good job,
though suggestions are welcome.]

The rest of my trip to the big city was busy. I ate my two lunches
and dinner at my favorite restaurant, Aleppo. It's so good! Bought
some peanut butter, a Teflon frying pan, a plastic spatula for use
with said frying pan, some really good knives, sponges, and an oven
mit (so I don't need to worry about lighting the draping parts of the
large towel I currently use to handle hot things over my gas stove on
fire). And of course, I thoroughly enjoyed two hot showers with
running water.

133 Days

January 25, 2006 marks my 133rd day in Moldova. Though I do not
usually celebrate 133rd Day Anniversaries (preferring instead typical
17-day and always exciting 217-day anniversaries), I think it is
appropriate this time because I spent exactly 132 days in
Uzbekistan. Thus, today I am officially more a Moldova-17 PCV than
an Uzbek-18 PCV, though I will always consider Uzbekistan my "first
love."

And, while we're on the subject of anniversaries... back on January
16th, I passed my 1-year anniversary in the PC. Yes, one year ago 64
strangers assembled in a Sheraton Hotel in downtown Philadelphia to
begin serving in the PC. Since then I've lived with five families in
two foreign nations; written and performed "I've seen pits and I've
seen jir" (Russian for pieces of fat on kebabs) to James Taylor's
"I've seen fire and rain;" been in every climate between 110 degree
dry desert heat, -30 degree winters, and 90% humidity during DC's
sweltering summer; I've tried meat jelly and decided it's not for me;
pooped in all manner of commodes; grown and shaved beard three times;
built decks, worked in an NGO, and a mayor's office; and once dreamed
in a foreign language.

But those are all just things I've done or places I've seen. The
important question is what have I learned? Is all this globetrotting
worth it? Fortunately, I've decided "yes" for two main reasons.
First, I don't think I would ever have the appreciation I now have
for America without my experiences living abroad. America, with all
its problems, is still in my estimation a pretty amazing place to
live. We can buy really good food all year round. Our roads are
well-maintained and it's fairly easy to get from one place to another
- trains, planes, and buses basically run on time. It's pretty easy
to be hygienic. Our government - whatever the MANY faults with our
electoral system or those who wield power - is freely elected.
People can earn a decent wage. Our air, water, and earth are fairly
clean - or at least most citizens need not distill their water before
they drink it. And if you thought going to the DMV was bad, try
getting a visa from a former-Soviet republic. Most impressive I
think is the American can-do attitude, spirit of ingenuity, and
willingness to embrace change. We like new ideas and technologies.
We like to meddle around with systems to see if we can make them run
better, and because of that they often do. So yeah, I'd say America
is pretty swell.

The second reason I made a good decision is I'm making a good
introduction of American culture to places that have previously only
had contact with Terminator films and and Britney Spears. I believe
I can say without arrogance that those who have really been able to
get to know me have come away with a better impression of America
than that with which they started. And at a time when America is
loved and hated throughout the world, and when those feelings have
serious consequences for our citizens and for the world, I think
sharing some of the better parts of American culture and
humanitarianism is an important policy.

[And a third reason that really hasn't got too far off the ground
just yet is that I'm doing good work. I would have helped make my
NGO in Uzbekistan self-sustaining if I hadn't been evacuated. I
started and English Klub here and will soon start teaching a computer
class, which should improve the job prospects for people here and
allow them to work more efficiently. And who knows what else is
around the corner.]

I've certainly seen things that I think communities handle better
here and in Uzbekistan than in my homeland - for example, actually
being a "community." How many Americans actually know all of their
neighbors and talk to them every couple of days? How many Americans
live down the street from their entire family - brothers, mothers,
grandparents, cousins - and share the responsibility of raising
children or just lending a helping hand to fix a broken door? I'm
sure some of these community attachments in the US were sacrificed in
the name of greater efficiency and moving up the career ladder, but
as a nation (and me, personally) we could probably do better in the
community relationships arena.

So that's it - my year in review. Come back soon and often to see
how the next year abroad unfolds...

Cold

Winter is here. Apparently today is the coldest day in Moldova since 1946. Temperatures during the day are about 1F and probably around -10 to -25F with the windchill. My room, the warmest in the apartment is usually 50-55. Over the weekend we got a few inches of snow, the temperature dropped precipitously, and the wind freezes any body part not covered.

I spent the better part of today at one of our schools, observing how things are done there, and about half way through the
day they sent all the younger children home through tomorrow. Throughout Gagauzia, young kids are supposed to stay at home because of the severe temperatures.

On the brighter side of things, I do feel a bit like a mountain man when my beard freezes as I walk around town. But any feelings of manliness are checked by the fact that today I broke down and used a pair of those hot packets in my boots to keep my toes warm. [Thanks, Mrs. J]

Most of the teachers and the school director were pretty nervous about me observing them. One drunken night watch man thinks I'm an American spy, and even called one of the teachers on Sunday during my English Club meeting to say that an "American spy" was sending a secret message to America from the school after suspiciously meeting with some children. [I was reading a text message on my cell phone after teaching English] Others fear I'm somehow evaluating them or going to blast them for poor work. But really, I just need to know what the situation actually is if I'm going to be able to help. And
I think I have some good ideas about a potential computer class, redoing the library, or maybe some sort of structural improvement - like new windows. We'll see.

Window of Opportunity

Before starting with this entry, I must say that I am a terrible
loser… as in one who loses things. Within a 36-hour period I have
lost (and retrieved) my keys from a party, permanently lost one yak-
trak while walking outside, and somehow managed to so badly misplace
my gloves in my own room that despite tearing it apart twice I cannot
find them. It never rains but it pours.

As for the actual entry, it deals with my previously leaky window
which I’m pleased to say is now as tight as a drum. As you may
recall from a previous post, when I moved to Copceac I found a piece
of plastic over my window. It was attached by four pushpins, one in
each corner, and did next to nothing to keep out the wind. I used
the better portion of a roll of duct tape to seal the edges and for a
while it worked quite well. But the tape dried out and the constant
wind slowly but surely pealed the tape away from the window frame and
soon I was back to square one – and out of tape.

This weekend I purchased some acrylic and a caulking gun and went
crazy sealing various cracks in the window – and basically sealed the
windows shut permanently shut, too, but I figure I can pick the
caulking away in the summer if needs be. With Krista’s help and a
fresh roll of duct tape, we quite beautifully and hermetically sealed
up the plastic sheet. My room is now a comfortable 56 degrees
Fahrenheit (14 degrees Celsius).

Now my Mom wants me to do her window with another jar of acrylic –
despite her previous protestations that all I needed was some toilet
paper to stick between the cracks. Progress.

Computer Class Showdown

I’d had it.  This Excel class I’ve prepared was ready two weeks ago, but at every turn I’ve been delayed and delayed again in teaching it.  First it was wait until next week, then it was the 16th, then today on the 19th at 3pm, and then that got canceled.  So I pulled everyone together who I want to give the class to into one room and this is how the conversation went:

 

BRAD: I know you are very busy, but I think it will be very useful for you to learn how to use Excel.  You will have more time if you know how to use the computer.

VALENTINA PETROVNA (head accountant): Yes but we’re very busy, maybe next week.

BRAD: No, I need a specific day.

VALENTINA: You are moving too fast.  You will be given a ticket (as in I were speeding)

BRAD: I’ve been ready to give this class for two weeks.  I know it is difficult but you already have a good computer so you should use it.  It is strange to have a computer in your office and never use it, no?

VALENTINA: [no answer, she just returns to her work on her desk.]

BRAD: [waiting in silence for two minutes]

BRAD: Valentina Petrovna, listen – this is the first calculator (picking up the abacus on her desk), this is the second calculator which is faster (picking up a calculator on her desk), and this is the third calculator which is even faster (pointing to the computer).  Tell me when you will have one hour.

VALENTINA: February 1st.

BRAD: What time?

VALENTINA: After lunch.

BRAD: What time exactly?

VALENTINA: Maybe two or three.

BRAD: How about from three to four?

VALENTINA: OK, if we’re not too busy.

BRAD: No, I will definitely teach the class from 3-4 on February 1st.

VALENTINA: Maybe it should be from 3-5.

 

Then Oleg entered and I told him he cannot give the accountants any extra work because they need time for a computer class on February 1 from 3-5.  Definitely.

Money

I’ve been working a lot – or at least trying to work a lot – with the
accountants in the mayor’s office. They’re a busy lot. I’ve seen
lots of spreadsheets of salaries, particularly of teachers, and I’ve
got to say it’s not good.

The director of one school earns about 1700 lei per month, and most
teachers earn around 1300 lei per month. That’s roughly $135 and
$103 per month.

As a Volunteer, I receive a living allowance from PC – thank you for
paying your taxes. Not including the money I receive for language
lessons or the small vacation allowance PC gives all Volunteers, I
receive… enough to live on. Every PCV receives a slightly different
amount based on where they live – in an expensive city or in a
village and proximity to the capital. About half of my allowance
covers room and board and the rest is left for travel within Moldova,
eating out, or miscellaneous expenses like gifts, my cell phone, etc.

I wouldn’t say that I’m living extravagantly (save the cell phone).
I don’t eat out or drink in my village – there are no cafes that
serve food. If I go to the capital on official PC business
(training, committee meeting, medical) I get a modest per diem that
covers my meals, provided I don’t blow it on overpriced dishes. At
the end of most months, I have a little extra left over – nothing
that anyone would consider anything more than (literally) pocket
change in America.

The reason I write all this is to illustrate the difficulty of living
in this country - let alone supporting a family - on the salaries
given. It’s no wonder that almost a quarter of this country’s
population is currently working abroad, or that the vice-mayor here
told me everyday last week how she wants to live and work in Russia
where she can earn a better living. [The following is an editted version of the original post based on a comment which you can read below that changed my opinion - Thanks, Sergi] I hope that soon Moldovans won't need to go abroad to find decent paying jobs. Many children here are being raised by a single parents or extended family because their parent(s) are working abroad to provide a better future for themselves and their families. In some cases, there are success stories. In others there are not. But I think all can agree that the best option would be to at least have the option of finding a good job in one's own country.

Internet

After work today I went to my mayor’s house to show him how he could
use his home computer to access the internet through the phone line.
He told me he would leave the office at 5pm and I could meet him at
his house. So, I left my apartment at 5:30 – allowing for the
standard Moldova lateness – and reassuringly noticed Oleg’s office
window lights were out as I passed by – and arrived at his house 15
minutes later. Of course, Oleg was not there. So I detoured to the
local bar where I found he and a couple of the office crowd sharing a
happy hour drink. He apologized and we headed home. Typical Moldova.

We moved his computer to be next to the phone line, and then I tried
to figure out how to set up their dial-up service in Russian, pulling
on my recollections of where certain menu actions were listed on
computers in English (they’re all in the same places). Eventually, I
figured it out, and voila!

Oleg and his family are now cruising on
the information superhighway.

I showed them a couple news sites in Russian and explained how Google
works, ate dinner with them, and headed off into the chill night
feeling that (besides getting a decent local haircut and fixing a
squeaky door) I accomplished something.

Bread & My Thermometer

Turns out there are two bakeries in town. This morning, Valentina
asked me to go to one of them to pick up our bread. She said tell
them the number “19” and her last name. Unsure of exactly how this
system would work, and having never done it before, I followed her
instructions and was told to wait for 10-15 minutes. As it was cold
outside and my apartment is just far enough away to go home and turn
around in 15 minutes, I decided to do what any person who doesn’t
speak the local language should do when he finds himself in a new
place and surrounded by generally unhelpful strangers – ask for a
tour of the place.

I must say, I was quite impressed with the place. The bakery has
been around for a while, but has only been in the hands of its
current owners, a couple named Vacilica and Anton, for 3 years. I
saw the gigantic machine they use to grind their own flower, a huge
mixing bowl where they make the dough, and an 8-foot tall rotating oven.

In another part of the warehouse where they work contains what I
think is another business they own – making comforters.

Of course, I forgot my camera so I don’t have any pictures, but keep
your eyes peeled because I’m definitely going back – especially since
Anton gave me a free loaf of hot, fresh bread. Wow, was it good.

A new key-chain thermometer that I’ve attached to my jacket’s zipper
allows me to know just how cold it is in my village. I use the
instrument not so much to determine the outside temperature, which I
know to be cold, but to figure out the temperature indoors where one
would hope it would be warm (or at least not cold).

My room, where I have the PC-issued electric heater running full
blast 24-hours a day hovers in the upper 50s and sometimes reaches
the mid-60s when I run my distiller at the same time. The “dining
room” where I ate my breakfast this morning was about 50 degrees and
the rooms in my office vary greatly, but nothing I’ve found prompts
me to remove my jacket or longjohns.

Actually, the cold is one of the best motivators to exercise. If I
run around I warm up. [Though I suppose the same could be said for
staying in bed all day – it’s quite comfy under my covers.]

Training

I’m back in Copceac after a week in the big city for a PC language
and technical training. Though I had a productive week and took
plenty of long, hot showers, which I will miss at my site, it’s good
to be home.

One reason I welcome my return is that I can now walk without fear of
falling. Though only a 3-hour bus ride north of Copceac, Chisinau
has snow and ice that never melts while my village has none. PC
issues yak-traks to all PCVs, and even warned us to bring them for
training. Well I’m an idiot and decided not to heed their advice
because they’re completely unnecessary down South. Mistake. I fell
a couple times during the week on the slippery sidewalks while my yak-
traked friends walked by as sure-footed as sherpas.

Our days went from 8:30 to 5:30 each day, 4 hours of language each
morning and then some kind of technical training after lunch. I
really got a lot out of the language classes and have a lot of
studying to do on my own. The interesting (i.e. really difficult)
thing about Russian is that the endings of verbs, nouns, and
adjectives change based on the gender of the object and how it is
used in a sentence – as the subject, direct object, indirect object,
object of a preposition, to show ownership, or as the instrument of
an action.

For example, in English we would say:
Jane bought this red sweater with Steven at the big store.

In Russian the sentence would have endings that change where I’ve
marked below:
Jane bought** this** red** sweater** with Steven** at the big** store.**

Now, if we changed around the sentence to have Steven purchase the
sweaters instead of Jane, or if Steven and Jane bought the sweaters
together, then the word “bought” would change to reflect the fact
that Steven is a man or that Steven and Jane are a plural subject.
If someone bought “this red fish” instead of “this red sweater,” then
the words “this” and “red” would change because fish is a feminine
word and sweater is a masculine word – AND, because fish are animate
objects and sweaters are inanimate, you’d change the endings on
“this” and “red” and “fish” again. So there’s a lot to think about
and could drive one to decide never to bother with Jane or Steven or
their stupid fish or ugly sweater.

To kickback after long days of learning, I sampled the culinary
offerings of Chisinau, and am pleased to report that I found another
Middle Eastern restaurant called “Aleppo.” Now anyone worth his salt
can tell you that the best food in the Middle East is supposed to
come from Aleppo, Syria and I have to say based on my five trips to
this small establishment in four days that should the owners actually
originate from that city, there is good cause for Aleppo’s
reputation. The hummus was excellent, shish-tauk better, and the
lebneh was the best I’ve ever had. And on top of it all, the place
is cheap. I ate like a king (of shish kebab) for about $4 per meal.
I will definitely be going back on any trip to the capital.

One night my friend Adam, who lives in Chisinau, organized an
excursion to a sauna. Nine of us were able to make the trip, and I
emerged several hours later very relaxed. There was a very cold
pool, a warm pool, and an extremely hot sauna.

Other news worth mentioning quickly:
- I received Hal’s care package. Thanks for the deodorant.

- Had lunch with a local who may give us a grant to redo our
Cultural Center.

- Going to start studying for the Foreign Service exam and the
GMATs. Can’t hurt to at least take the tests.

- Purchased a crocheting needle and yarn and fellow PCV Jason
gave me a few lessons. Scarf City here we come!

Gas Problems

As some of you know, Russia recently shut off the natural gas it supplies to Ukraine over a price dispute. My understanding of the situation is limited, but I think the argument is basically that Ukraine has been receiving subsidized gas for several years, and Moscow decided it was time for that to end (perhaps in part to undermine the new pro-West government there under Victor Yushenko). Price disputes ensued and here we are in our current state.

The problem gets a little more interesting in that Russia is a major gas supplier to Eastern Europe, but its pipeline goes through Ukraine. Apparently there are all kinds of international agreements that prevent Ukraine from siphoning off gas destined for Europe, but I think some is happening anyway.

I get involved in this story only tangentially. On Friday, before caroling, my mayor told me the “gas man” told him that we may need to shut off the gas in Copceac. Krista’s mother in Cahul said the same thing to her. I don’t think this will actually happen and is probably part rumor, part exaggeration, and part Soviet mentality of expecting the worst. Nonetheless, it would make life quite difficult if it were to happen.

I’m personally more interested in how it’s affecting my friends from Uzbekistan currently serving in Ukraine. I haven’t heard about anyone having any big problems – I’m sure there are gas reserves or PC there has come up with an alternate solution – but stay warm, guys!

[Turns out they solved the dispute - hooray - I've got gas!]

Merry Christmas II

Merry Christmas, Moldovan style. January 7th was the big day over here, so on the 6th, my mayor informed me that we would go out caroling. So I reported back to the office at 5pm as told. At 6pm everyone else arrived, and then I learned that we would be singing in drag with much face paint (naturally). After rummaging around in the Cultural Center’s “costume room” for 30 minutes looking for dresses that would fit over our heavy coats, we were off complete with an accordion player and a drummer.




Now we I say “caroling,” this is not the peaceful harmonious caroling of America. This is the wild, dancing, cacophonic – and did I mention in drag? – Moldovan yellers. At each home we would essentially force ourselves inside, do a few numbers while the “hosts” scrambled to quickly bring out some food and drink. I couldn’t help but be aware of my American sensibilities of privacy and forewarning. How would I feel if about 10 wild men (some of whom toward the end of the evening, or as the sun rose, were pretty tipsy) showed up on my doorstep, forced themselves inside, and made bull moose mating calls sound like Beethoven? I’ll let you decide how you’d feel – but the people here loved it!



In other Christmas news, at my last English Klub meeting, my students presented me with a gift of a small porcelain dog to represent health and happiness the our new zodiac Year of the Dog. It was quite unexpected and very moving.



All the above happened on Friday. On Saturday, I spent most of the day preparing for my week-long PC training in the capital, e.g. doing laundry. I’ve got to say, it becomes quite a process in the winter when there is no running water, no working drains, no washing machine, and no dryer. My PC-issued electric heater functions well as the latter and I’ve become quite adept at draping as many articles of clothing on, in, and around it as possible. So much so, that everything I started washing on Saturday morning was dry by the time I left my apartment Sunday at 4:45am (except for the bed sheets, but they can just hang all week while I’m away).

If you want to know where I’m going, it’s to Chisinau for a week-long PC training. I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone again, hot showers, and a really big salad.

A Good Day

Despite the cold and rainy weather, yesterday ranks near the top for
my stay thus far in Moldova. This was due to a combination of me
actually being productive and by Moldovans actually showing some
initiative.

It all started around 5:30am when I got up as part of my new "Get $#!
@ Done" Plan. I studied my Russian for about 2 hours, fried a couple
of eggs, drank my green tea with lemon, and made my way to the
office. Progress - check!

Later that morning I was able to get money out of the bank after only
a 25-minute wait. Now I ask before waiting in line if the bank has
money or not [see previous entry for why this is a good question to
ask]. Granted, I did have to make two trips because the first one
resulted in a negative answer by the teller - but I didn't have to
wait in line to find out. Progress - check (and ka-ching!).

Then, I ran through the first Excel class I've planned out with the
office attorney, Valeri, as a test case for my actual class on Jan
17th. It actually went pretty well and I think Valeri learned
something. Perhaps with repeated lessons and a little bit of nagging
for him to actually use the program, he may grow to use it on his
own. Progress - check!

After lunch, Valeri told me he was going to take me to the kalhouz
and then to the textile factory to meet the directors of both places
- something I've been asking to do for the last couple of weeks. And
though Valeri and I left 45-minutes later than he first told me, and
though the kalhouz director did not return to his office after lunch
and so I did not meet him, and though I didn't even get to the
factory because I had to leave for the English Klub - we did actually
go where we were supposed to go and I did meet a couple other people
in the kalhouz. I think that warrants a "Progress - check!"

Later that day I had my biggest attendance to date for my English
Klub - a total of 17 people. I actually planned out the lesson (on
giving directions) for the beginner group the night before instead of
basically winging it, and this is definitely the way to go. I'm
pretty certain that most of the folks in the beginner group could now
ask "How do I get from the school to the clothing store?" and answer
with "Go 2 blocks north, turn right and go 1 block, and the clothing
store is on your left." Progress - check!

Then my advanced group actually did their homework - or at least the
ones who showed from last time when I assigned it. They were
supposed to tell me all about a particular building in the village.
I learned about the two bakeries (and when I can buy fresh, hot
bread) and the main store, which is some sort of quasi-publicly owned
entity. Interestingly, despite being the most expensive place to
shop and having goods that are no different whatsoever from the 7-8
other general stores and not really seeing any reinvestment of the
profits of this "public" store in town, most people shop there out of
habit. The 8 women that run the main public store get 4% of the
monthly sales, yet they do nothing to attract more business like have
sales or special events or advertise (or come anywhere close to the
term "customer service"). And the other neighboring businesses that
have cheaper goods do nothing to hit people over the heads with this
information in order to attract more business for themselves. Folks
aren't big on change here like we are in America where things change
on a daily basis. So maybe this wasn't a whole lot of progress, but
I think I did plant some seeds of capitalism in the minds of my
students as we discussed how businesses could improve - and let's not
forget that I learned where to buy hot, fresh bread.

After the Klub, one member, an English teacher, asked me if I could
stay behind a look at the school's computer room and see if I could
get internet set up there. I agreed and after about a hour of
fiddling, I discovered that all they really needed to do was dial the
right number, plug in their modem, and run one cord from the jack to
the modem and from the modem to the phone. Presto - the school that
has not had internet for the last several years now has dial-up on
one computer. Progress - double check!

And if you mind is already reeling from all this forward momentum,
that evening at our Cultural Center I was asked to help chaperone/
bounce/observe a disco. It was fun to see a bunch of teenagers
dancing in a circle, at the center of which no one wants to be.
Again, the ingrained American business man within me was thinking of
ways to boost profits. Why doesn't anyone sell refreshments at the
dance? Why are the DJs paid a flat rate regardless of how many
people attend - why not give them a percentage of the door and
they'll naturally help bring in a bigger crowd? And why do we have
DJs that we pay at all when all they're doing is playing mp3s that
Valeri has on his office computer anyway? So again, not so much
progress made that evening, but good ideas are happening...

Banking in Moldova

I think this is going to be a reoccurring theme in my entries here,
but the banking system in this country is out of control. I just
spent 1.5 hours waiting my turn outside of the bank, while one person
at a time was allowed into the single room office where the bank
"official" works. When I finally reached the counter and asked with
all my necessary documents for 1000 lei (about $75), he held up 50
lei ($4) and said that was all they had in the bank now. Dammit!
Couldn't they have put up a sign that said "We're out of money."

[And in case you were wondering what all the other people were doing
since being told "We're out of money" doesn't take all that long and
shouldn't have resulted in my 90-minute wait, they were paying gas
and electric bills. You bring your bills to the bank - and probably
your own money that you keep beneath your mattress - and pay the
bills that way. There are no checking accounts.]

The odd thing is, the banks in the capital are run fairly well,
complete with ATMs and tellers that in my experience always have
access to money. Yet step outside of the few Moldovan cities and
into a village and you step into another financial world.

It's no wonder people don't put their money in the bank or are afraid
to invest - there's a very real possibility, or more likely a
probability, that they won't be able to cash out when they want.
There are families that don't use banks at all and simply hide money
in secret spots throughout their homes. I don't blame them. In fact
I've tried to emulate them, using only the ATMs in the capital city
when I happen to be there and avoiding my local bank completely.

I've been told that the bank should have money tomorrow. Guess I'll
try again... early.

A Star is Born

Two PCVs from my group in Moldova are a retired couple named Linda & JD.  Before they left, a friend of a friend of a friend of theirs found out they were joining the PC and thought they'd be an ideal subject matter for a PBS TV show called "Boomers" about Baby Boomers who spend their time doing something off the beaten path.  They were interviewed in their home in Seattle before departing, and then during our training in October, PBS hired a local TV crew to do some in-country filming of Linda & JD, the occasional PC staffer, and get some b-role of them doing exciting things.  I haven't seen the show, but I may be somewhere in a background shot or two - I certainly tried to get within the camera's purview when our famous two-some was doing important things.  Shameless, I know...

Anyway, Linda sent out the email below that gives the details about the airtime in you locality.  Check it out:

Here's a link to the "Boomers" TV show to send your friends and family. If you click on it, you can find out which PBS stations are carrying the show and when it's on. Ours is Episode 10 so they'll have to count with calendar in hand to figure out what date Moldova 17 is featured. If you click on "Episodes" and look at #10, you can see a photo of JD. Click through to one of both of us and even a one-minute video clip with instructions for high speed and our-speed internet connections. We haven't seen the show yet so we don't know if everyone is on it. Hope so!!!

www.boomerstv.com  If the show isn't scheduled on PBS in a particular city, I understand people can call the local PBS station and request it.

New Year's

My New Year’s Eve was hardly a wild one, but satisfying nonetheless. Fellow PCV Krista came for the weekend, and though her company was welcome so too was the packet of taco mix and Honey Nut Cheerios she brought with her, courtesy of a care package from America [Mom & Dad – don’t read into this – I love your care packages too.] As I learned how to do in Uzbekistan, I made tortillas (because where else would an American learn to make Mexican tortillas except in a former-Soviet republic), bought some unexpectedly cheap tomatoes for this time of year, took a taxi to the closest city to find some chopped meat (that wasn’t ground turkey which happened to be available in my local bazaar that day). The chopped meat was frozen solid, but a few hours in a plastic bag on my Frisbee on my electric heater thawed it sufficiently.

After a cold spell for the last couple of weeks, the weather turned surprisingly warm, which made the New Year’s Eve outdoor festivities much more enjoyable. Starting around 8pm, several hundred people gathered in the center of the village (see the pictures I took on Dec 30th, sans several hundred people – and yes, that’s a statue of Stalin by the Christmas tree).




There was much dancing and champagne toasts and absurd contests for best singing or best costume – only a few children dressed up, but I think the winner was a 6-year old Spider-man. Around 10pm a decent fireworks show (for Moldova) started off the roof of the Cultural Center. And though the weather did warm for the occasion, it was still cold and I admit that I was tucked in bed by around 11:45, and probably drifted off just as the clock struck twelve.

An interesting cultural note: unlike Times Square where everyone stays out for the climatic midnight year-change, here everyone rushes home by 11:30 to celebrate the passing of the year with their families. They eat dinner at midnight, which is when the president comes on TV to say hello. Then some go back out around 1 or 2am, and hit the local disco, where I heard music still playing at 6:30am on January 1, 2006. And presents are given on New Year’s Day, not Dec. 25.

Also pictured here is our office party, where one game we played involved me being a tree, my mayor counterpart Oleg being a horse, and the man upon his back (our driver) is playing the part of the prince. Good times.