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.