Pondering the Meaning of Life (and other things)

This month we also started planning for this year’s Camp TARE, a week-long nation-wide camp for young women ages 18-22. Actually it’s more of a seminar series, covering topics ranging from professional skills to human-trafficking. TARE stands for (in Romanian) Young, Active, Responsible, and Equal, and the word ‘tare’ means strong. I’m one of four directors for the camp, and we’ve got some work to do before July! I’m also hosting a short seminar in my village at the end of February. The topic of this seminar is business for youth. In the village there is absolutely no business curriculum before the university level, so this two-day seminar will give some of the high-school age kids in my village an introduction to economics and entrepreneurship. So I have been preparing for that as well. And of course, English class is always good for some work and laughs. We played Jeopardy this week in order to review what we’ve learned so far, and I’ll just say that I need to work on class-room control, and perhaps next time I should have a better plan for debating who said what first. There was shouting (everyone at once), laughing, jubilation, and even a bit of crying. But overall I was pleased with what the kids have managed to learn up until now.

So I’m learning all about sheep. And I’m actually doing something somewhat useful! One of my partners and I are helping a woman from the village write a business plan to try to win a grant so she can buy another breed of sheep to cross-breed with her sheep in order to increase her overall production of milk. Apparently this other breed lactates a crazy amount. Anyways, from this milk she then makes sheep-cheese, that glorious product that is sold in the ‘brinza barn,’ my favorite part of the piata, as I mentioned in my Christmas entry. So I’ve read a whole bunch of material about raising sheep, and I’ve learned a whole bunch of new vocab, all of which will be extremely useful in daily life, of course. I’ve typed up and organized the entire plan, adding my opinions and advice where needed, all in Romanian! Although it is but something small, this is a start towards making an impact in my community!

When the snow melts, there is mud everywhere. I mean everywhere. Not just a few sticky spots here and there. There is sink-down-to-your-laces-in-thick-brown-gooey-junk-every-step mud. Completely unavoidable. Then why do I have to wash and polish my boots every single night?? My first step out the gate will completely undo all of my hard work and no one will even know that I cleaned them!

So I’ve spent a lot of time thinking lately. Not for lack of things better to do, but because there is a lot to think about. I am constantly plagued by the worries of not accomplishing anything while I’m here. Outside of the capital and a few larger towns, there is virtually no economy. How can we create jobs here so that people don’t have to leave? Of course I can’t solve the problems of the entire country, but even in my village? How does one raise the living standards of this tiny community in rural Moldova? Yes, the land is fertile. But does it really make sense for a village to have 1000 individual agriculture-based small businesses? One thing that the Soviet collective farms had right was the idea of economies of scale. What can a person get with 3 hectares of corn?! Or half a hectar of wheat? And of course there are the complaints of the low prices received for cereals, so why don’t they switch to higher-value crops? And if someone buys another’s land and starts to produce more efficiently, where does that leave the other guy who now has nothing? He can’t exactly just up and get another job. If someone does have the initiative to start something larger, where does the start-up capital come from? Most can’t afford the 25% and higher interest rates, or they don’t have any sort of collateral to offer. Hardly any one has savings of any kind, maybe some euros stashed in a jar, and most don’t even have bank accounts at all. I don’t want to be a grant-writer, but in many cases it might be the only way. But how is that sustainable? So that is one line of thought running through my head.

I’ve also been pondering the questions raised by two recent publications: an editorial in the New York Times criticizing the Peace Corps for not being an effective international development organization because of the inexperience of the young people it recruits, as well as a book, The Search for Bliss, which labels Moldovans as the unhappiest people on earth. As for the former, I have in fact at times felt under-qualified for my job here. But how important are these tangible development results? How important is balancing the first Peace Corps goal of development with the remaining two goals of cross-cultural understanding? And how many other international development agencies are reaching out into remote villages like the Peace Corps is in dozens of countries? How many of these agencies have a model in which the developer becomes of part of the community that he seeks to aid, learns the languages, and really gets to know the people? But I didn’t come here solely for two years of cultural exchange, as great as that is. I came to make a difference in the lives of these people. Some say they don’t need help here, others say they need all the help they can get, and still others say there is no way to help unless you have access to money. While I may not be a development expert, I do bring energy, knowledge of the workings of a market economy, ideas, an open-mind, and yes, some access to money. My time here will not be for nothing. As for the claim that Moldovans are the unhappiest people on Earth, yes, there is a good amount of unhappiness here. I discussed this with my host mother, who said, ‘Of course we’re unhappy! We can’t get jobs and our loved ones are gone!’ But the unhappiest people on Earth? Please. People don't spend their days moping around. In fact, there is much laughter and joking everyday. I see smiles and laughter and happy gatherings all the time here. The author of this book neglected to present both sides of life here. And furthermore, I think any attempt to label the unhappiest people on Earth is futile and ridiculous.

My final ponderings have revolved around my decision to join the Peace Corps, and, I suppose, the meaning of life. Yes, I believe life is preparation for eternal life in God’s kingdom, but what does that mean for me? What is God’s plan for me here on Earth? Is this really where he wants me to be, or did I just think this is where he wants me to be because this is where I wanted to be? And why did I want to be here? To satisfy my own craving for adventure? To avoid having to choose and start a career? To learn a new language? To serve others and fulfill my need for that ‘do-good’ feeling? Yes to all. Is that ok? I’ve asked myself many times what would really make me happy in life, and I always come to the conclusion that, after a strong relationship with Christ, relationships with people are what keep me going in life. Even the worst job I’ve ever had made me happy when I did it with people that I cared about and who cared about me. If it is the case that people are the most important thing to me, why do I keep choosing to leave them? Each place I’ve gone I’ve been incredibly blest to have made new amazing friends, but then when the time comes to leave, it is that much harder to. Is it enough to maintain relationships through long distance? There are so many people who have had an amazing impact on my life, but do they know it? I try to show my appreciation for others, but I don’t think I always succeed. Can I keep going on though life assuming that wherever I go there will be somebody with whom I want to laugh, spend time with, listen to, tell my stories to? And what does it mean to ‘make new friends, but keep the old?’ Everybody always asks me if I miss life in the US. The answer is no. I only miss people.

Alrighty, that is all. I promise to keep it a bit lighter next time!