Smiles, Laughter, and Hugs

Well, September has come and gone. I accomplished almost everything I was hoping to. We sent out the survey and informational brochure for the Economic Planning Center, and already we have seen results. Many people have come in to run ideas by us, and more people have just randomly been approaching me in the village to say hi and see what’s up. Hopefully I will find a few solid entrepreneurs to work with to really get a business going over the next year. My partner and I revised the business plan (a web design business that we had originally tried to get going in the summer) and were able to pull all the necessary materials together to submit the entire proposal to the agency running the grant program in time. Now we’re just waiting to hear if we win the money for the initial investment in the business. The fall issue of the TARE newsletter (for all past participants of the women’s empowerment camp) will be ready to go out this next week. We heard back from many of the young women from this summer’s camp who have already done seminars in their villages. A few of the girls who live in a larger village are even working to put together a monthly seminar series to share what they learned with the other women in their village. We’ve heard success stories of getting into universities or study abroad programs or starting clubs in their villages. This is of course all great news, and a point for us in the dreaded ‘sustainability’ column!

English lessons are going well so far this year. I have it down to one group of 12 students who are really committed to learning. I was able to procure some manuals for us to use this year, which I think will be a big help. The third lesson of the school year Kirk was in the village, so my kids were able to show off their skills a little bit. I was very proud of how well they were able to converse with him, and despite the long summer vacation they improved greatly from when my family was here in May. The beekeeping class is almost ready to go. That grant proposal should be approved and up on the website within the next two weeks or so, and then YOU can help us out by donating. The idea is for the students in grades 7-9 to learn business and beekeeping through a hands-on approach. They have very few options for extra-curriculars, no exposure to ideas of business until the university level, and no opportunity to learn the skill of beekeeping, which not only can be a source of income from the sale of honey and wax, but is necessary for every community that relies on agriculture as its main source of income because pollenation leads to higher crop yields. The class will meet once a week and cover all the soft and hard skills, and the kids will have responsibility for 5 families of bees, all the way from the hiving to the harvest of the honey. We need money for the procurement of the bees and equipment. The instructor, space, storage, and lecture materials will all be provided by the community. So, if you want to help make this project a reality, stay tuned to find out how you can donate!

As for the yard work...we canned 7 jars of marinated tomatoes, another 10 of marinated peppers and tomatoes, 4 of egg plant, and a million of jam. We got rid of all the tomato plants in the garden, and have two large bins of garlic and onions. So I thought we had done pretty well. Well, my host parents came home, and after one week the yard looked completely different! They got rid of all the weeds and dead plants, picked the grapes and trimmed up the vines, and cleaned out the path to the outhouse. There are now two piglets and a handful of chickens. There is also a car in the garage and a new stove/oven. I guess they were pretty successful and saving money while they were working in the Czech Republic! It’s nice that they are home, but now I’m going to have to get used to not having all of the freedom that I enjoyed while it was just me and Natasha.

Our one year celebration was a lot of fun. About 25 out of 34 of us made it to the campsite for the two days that we had festivities. I won the grill competition – melted beans and cheese on toast. Oh yeah. It was rainy and cold the entire time, but our spirits were high. We had a lot of good memories and compliments to share with each other, and encouragements to give for the coming year. I feel truly blessed to be a part of this group, because we have all bonded really well and been so supportive of each other. I definitely have some lifelong friends here. The few times that I’ve been overwhelmed by life here I was picked up so quickly by them.

I almost didn’t make it to the one-year celebration because on the morning I was supposed to leave I got locked in the outhouse. Talk about a nightmare. I mean, I was literally locked IN THE OUTHOUSE. There is a little piece of wood that spins on a nail on the outside of the outhouse, and when we are not inside we twist it so that it covers the opening and the door won’t swing open in the wind. Well....this piece of wood was getting pretty loose, and when I went in the outhouse, it swung back on it’s own into the locked position, and I couldn’t open the door from the inside!!!! I was home alone, natasha gone for work for the day and my parents still in the Czech. I could see the neighbors in the garden off aways, but they were hammering and couldn’t hear my pleas for help. I discovered that the roof could be lifted off a bit, and I tried shouting through there, but no one heard me. I tried climbing out, but there was nowhere to put my feet to hoist myself out. I tried jiggling the door, sticking rolled toilet paper through the crack, but the wood wouldn’t budge. I started to panic. What if I was in there all day?! The people at work knew I wasn’t coming in that day because I was going to Chisinau, so no one would know that I was missing until that evening. Finally I noticed that the door was made up of plastic panels surrounded by a wood frame. I forced out the top panel and stuck it through the opening and pushed open the lock!!! Genius!! I survived 20 minutes locked in the outhouse - I’m ready for anything now!

As for my vacation, it was great! Kirk got a tour of Chișinău (thoroughly covered in about 30 minutes), and we met up with a bunch of volunteers and went wine tasting at one of the larger wine cellars a bit outside of Chișinău. We spend a day picking grapes in the village where I had my training, which was a great experience. We walked up at 10 am and, in typical Moldovan fashion, were immediately given two shots of vodka and some placinte to get us going for the day of work! The weekend in my village was hram (the celebration of the village), which meant lots of eating. So we had two nights of eating and vodka, and my host parents were back from abroad, so there was extra hoopla at my house. By the end of the evening, I was selectively translationg what was being said. ;) Unfortunately the town dance was cancelled because of all the rain we’d been having.

After 5 days in Moldova, we headed out to Romania for what we hoped would be some good trekking. But unfortunately the weather was not on our side, and we only got in about 2 days. Dracula’s castle in Transylvania was a rather large disappointment, and we had a few mishaps along the way, but overall it was still a fun trip. We went out to the Black Sea for a day, and wandered around Buchareșt, and for my sake, we spent a day at the mall, bowling, and the movies. And I went to Pizza Hut three times. We met some awesome people throughout the travels, which I always think of as the best part of any trip. One nice man drove us all the way from the mountains back into the center of Brasov and told us the real story of Dracula (or Vlad the Impaler). An 83-year old energetic man led us to a trail head one day, and he told us how he walks every day and climbs the hill 3 days a week. We stayed in the guesthouse of one really nice woman who spoke German and let me borrow her personal shampoo. Another nice young man let me use the internet on his phone to try to find a hostel while we were on the train to Buchareșt (there was something fishy about how he was obtaining this service though...). A waiter at a mountain cafe pleasantly informed us that the cabana we had been searching for had actually burned down 6 years ago. Two older gentlemen on the bus back from the airport kept me company and made me feel better when I was homesick and sad about parting from my friend. A nice girl saved us from getting fines for not punching our bus tickets (we tried, really we did, it was confusing.) And so on. The world is full of great people, and someone always seems to come along at just the right moment to say the right thing, or just to put a smile on your face. :)

To me, smiles, laughter, and hugs are three of the greatest things in life. And luckily, they are (mostly) universal!

Is It September Already?

I’m not really sure what happened to summer. One minute it was here, and then it was gone. Unfortunately, after writing about all the cool stuff that was finally happening, I managed to get myself invalid status for two weeks. At the last baseball game I got drilled in the leg near my inside ankle really hard. Twice. I’ve been hit with a baseball before, and yeah, it stings, but no big deal, right? So I went back to site thinking it would pass. Well, by the end of the week, it looked like I had elephantitus of the foot, there was a huge elevated lump on my shin, and it was completely blue all the way down to my toes (luckily I had painted my toenails purple, so it matched). I also could barely walk. I had a rather pleasant Friday giving seminars to 12 girls in a fellow volunteer’s village, but I was on my feet the whole day, and by then I realized I needed to do something about this. It’s not a good sign when everybody has a look of horror on their faces after looking at my leg. So I went in to our doctor at Peace Corps, who had me get an x-ray. Not broken, no hairline fracture like I feared. Ok, so then we go to the ‘traumatologist’ at the local hospital (dark and scary!). His immediate response was ‘cut it open and let it drain out.’ I wasn’t so thrilled with that, so we settled on extracting the extra fluid with a syringe. So we did the ‘procedure’ back at Peace Corps (they proudly showed me all of the black goop they took out), and I began two weeks of sitting with my leg elevated and daily electro-therapy treatments. At the end of the two weeks, our doctor stabbed me again and took out the remaining fluid. By now my foot had returned to its normal size and color, and it no longer hurt to walk. Crisis over. But do you have any idea how hard it was for me to sit around for 2 weeks?! Peace Corps has an apartment next to our office in the capital where all of the volunteers stay for free if we are sick, or if we have to come in for a medical appointment and can’t make it back to our site in the same day. I managed to avoid this place for more than 11 months, and then wham! – 13 nights. The upside is that it is the nicest apartment I’ve seen in Moldova, located right above a convenience store, and there is usually at least one other sick person each night to play movie trivia, watch movies, or do puzzles with. I did as much work as I could without actually being at site, so that occupied me for about a day. For the first week I was able to watch the Olympics from 8-noon everyday on NBC, which we get in the volunteer lounge. I also watched 13 movies and 12 episodes of Saved by the Bell, read 3 books, and did most of a 1000 piece puzzle, and wrote a lot of emails. Conveniently, we also had a two-day language training during this time, so my whole group was in town for a few nights. But I obviously couldn’t run, or work out really at all, or do anything worthwhile. I felt like a lazy, worthless, blob.

Last week a supermarket opened in Soroca. A real one. Not huge, but enough that I felt like I was walking into Rainbow, or Copps. Now I don’t have to go to Chișinău to get my grocery store experience. However, we volunteers have been talking about the fact that we are here to help small business development, but then we are super excited any time we get to go to a large chain grocery store. This new store will definitely have its effects on the farmers and mom-and-pop convenience stores in my region. I was expecting a reaction to the opening of this store somewhat comparable to some of the Wal-mart protesting. However, so far I’ve only heard wonder and awe on the part of the Moldovan people. They are amazed at the space – not having to move through a throng of people and being bumped and pushed from all sides like at the piața. They love that you can pick everything off of the shelves yourself and see everything clearly and read the labels, without a salesperson having to get it from behind a counter or pressuring you to hurry up, as happens in the small convenience stores. They are amazed at the variety of options, the pre-cut, de-fatted and de-boned meat, the semi-prepared packaged food, the fruits and veggies out of season, the fact that you can absolutely everything you need in one place. They were pleasantly surprised that prices were comparable, or in many cases even lower than at the piața or in the convenience stores. And of course there is the lure of the fact that it is inside, which means they don’t have to go to the outdoor piața if it is raining, too hot, or too cold. A less tangible benefit is the pride or higher standard of living that it gives people. “See Kate?’ they tell me, ‘we are becoming civilized too!’

But what does this mean for the small guy? Those hundreds of people who sell their produce at the piața, or who own the smaller convenience stores? Some of them will make it, but certainly not all of them. And for many of them, that is absolutely all they have for income! What will they do? Sure, this new supermarket will provide jobs to maybe 100 people, but hundreds more will lose out. Not to mention the fact that the supermarket is of course foreign-owned, meaning that the profits are flowing right on out of the country. Unfortunately, such is the reality of globalization. What the solution is, I have yet discover. And should I feel guilty for enjoying the fact that I can go to the supermarket this winter and buy avocados instead of getting cabbage at the piața? I feel like I’m back in junior religion class when Mr. Mauthe convincingly argued that it was a sin to eat at a restaurant....

On a happier and less complicated topic, September 1 was the first day of school here, and coincidentally, my first day back to work after my two-week foot debacle. It was a great day, one that made me glad to be here. I started by going to the opening ceremonies at school. The whole gang from the mayor’s office was there, and they were all thrilled to see me, going on about how much they missed me, that it was a different feel without me around, what are they going to do when I leave for good next year, etc. (Do you see my head inflating?) And then some of my English kids caught sight of me and came running over. I had been hiding in the back of the crowd, but all of a sudden I was a crowd. I had decided that this year I only wanted to work with the 6 students who I knew were actually learning and studying the language each week last year. I am not here to teach, and I don’t really know how, and I don’t want to spend my time teaching them the same words, and dealing with a classroom of rowdy kids, when I could be helping those few who really could learn something over the next year. To be honest, I’m not really sure why there are so many who kept on coming last year, and who want to keep coming this year. Surely the novelty of the American has worn off? So anyways, the point is, I had decided that I only wanted to take 6 kids this year, but then no less than 20 were so excited that classes would start up again and kept asking me when. And there were more parents who were asking me to take their kids this year because they had learned a bit of English in Moscow, or in Balti or where-have-you. And seeing the excitement and enthusiasm on their faces, I couldn’t say no! So we’ll see. First class is Friday, and I’ll be laying down ground rules for this year. So anyways, the kids and I stood in the back of the crowd, giggling and talking about this at that, while the priest was up there blessing everything in sight and spraying holy water. After the ceremony, most of the teachers came up and said hello, asked about my foot, said they were looking forward to this or that thing that I was going to help them with in the near future. And so on throughout the day. Whenever I was walking anywhere, I ran into people I hadn’t seen for weeks, and so I would stop to talk for longer than usual. The day was really an ego-booster. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t done anything for two weeks, they were just glad to see me. I also just like being back in the village, where everyone greets each other. I called out a greeting to a baba (an older woman) pulling water from a well, and she turned around so quickly with a smile, eager to return the greeting to whomever had greeted her. I called out a ‘Lord help you!’ to a man working in his garden, and he gave me an appreciative thank you, a big smile, and a wave. Home sweet home.

So not only did summer fly by, but September already has a full agenda. My counterparts and I have created a survey and an informational brochure for the Economic Planning Center that we run. It will go out to all the families in the two villages that make up our community. We want to make them more aware of the services we offer, as well as to get an idea of what kind of projects and services they would be most interested in. So that needs to get out within the next week (the logistics of printing, copying, and distributing have been more time consuming than the actual creation of the materials!). I also have the next issue of the TARE newsletter to work on, the beekeeping class to get up and running, and English lessons and materials to prepare. We are also revising the business plan I mentioned in my last entry in order to submit it for a different grant program. In addition to that, there still is some canning to do, the garden needs to be cleaned up, and the grapes need to be picked and the wine made (that can take a week itself). Also, hram, the annual day of the village is on the 21st, and that involves a lot of cleaning and food preparation, many guests, and in general, craziness. AND, September 12th marks exactly one year since arrival in country, so our entire group (or rather, the 34 of us who remain) is spending a few days together to celebrate. Woo hoo! Oh, and on the 18th I receive my first non-family visitor! Kirk is coming to check out Moldovan life for a few days, and then we’re hitting the mountains in Romania for a week at the end of the month. Woo hoo again! So I guess I’ll have a lot to write about next month!

Summer in the Village

Well, Camp TARE (the women’s empowerment camp I’ve been talking about) was a success. In Romanian ‘Tare’ means ‘strong.’ And as an acronym, it stands for ‘Tinere (young), Active, Responsabile, Egale (equal). The camp took place July 1-6 in Soroca, the city nearest my village (convenient for me!), and there were 71 young women ages 18-22 from all over Moldova. The theme of this year’s camp was ‘My Dream Can Be Reality,’ and throughout the course of the week the participants went to 15 seminars, with topics ranging from career development to breast cancer. The seminars were taught by teams typically consisting of one Moldovan and one Peace Corps volunteer. (We had 10 PCVs and 8 Moldovan counselors.) In addition to the seminars, we had activities that most girls had never even heard of before, such as pinatas, tie-dye, a bonfire with s’mores, and various art projects. We also had a candlelight vigil for domestic violence, and a guest presentation on human trafficking. As a director, it was so rewarding to see all of our work over the past 5 months to come to fruition. It was incredible to watch these girls grow over the course of the week, and to leave with new friendships, new ideas, new knowledge, and new attitudes. I spent the week acting as a liaison with the campsite director, trouble-shooting any problems, keeping track of expenses, and in general making sure things ran smoothly. The four of us directors were typically the first ones up and the last ones to bed. In addition to the above mentioned duties, I also taught 4 sessions of the community development seminar, and 2 sessions of self-defense, and I led a running group bright and early every morning.

My favorite evening of the whole camp was probably the 4th of July. We had a bonfire and the 14 of us Americans sang patriotic songs and waved around tiny little American flags. We went down to the river and shot off fireworks, which were actually impressive (or maybe I’ve just been here too long). Then the part that brought tears to my eyes – after we sang our national anthem, the 79 Moldovans sang their national anthem. I had never heard it sung before, and you could see how much pride these young women had for their country, and it just made me want to burst. This country needs more young people who love their country and want to improve it.

The final night of the camp the girls organized a talent show, which was awesome. They ended it by crushing the 4 of us directors in a 94 person group hug, which again made me want to cry. At that moment I felt like I had really done something to make a difference. I had that ‘aha!’ moment, that this was why I had joined Peace Corps. And the TARE love doesn’t stop there. Each girl received a 150-page manual (which I diligently worked on through-out the spring – it was great to see our work in published form!) with information for all the seminars as well as sample lesson plans. The hope is that when the girls go back to their villages, they will each do a seminar there, thus further spreading the information that we gave them. Also, this year we are starting up a newsletter to keep giving the young women information and support, and to celebrate their successes. The first issue went out today! Woo hoo!

So, back in my village things have also started to heat up. I spent two weeks working long days to put together a proposal for a grant sponsored by UNDP. The idea is for NGOs to start up small businesses, from which the profits will be used as a source of funding for the ongoing activities of the NGO. So we had to put together a detailed business plan in addition to other information about the NGO. Well, just so happens this is right up my alley, and exactly why I came here! My Moldovan counterpart is the director of the children’s summer camp for our region, so she literally lives at the camp, which is across the street from our village. So everyday I hiked over there, and we worked on the computer she had hauled up to the top of the A-frame cabin were she lives. We talked about things like the target market, the pricing, the financial projections, the management and operations, and in general how to clearly and concisely write up a business plan. It was nice that everything had to be done in Romanian, because then she and her son, who will be the main employee, really did have to write it, and I played the advisor/Excel-goddess role. The week before the proposal was due, however, oh boy, did the rains come! 6 days in a row it rained without stopping, and the power kept going on and off. So it was quite frustrating to be working and having the computer keep turning off. Not to mention I felt like I was permanently wet. But we finished. And I had another this-is-why-I-joined-Peace-Corps moment. One night, my counterpart turned to me and said, ‘Kate, even if we don’t win this grant, I’m so glad we did this. I can’t even tell you how much I’ve learned from you in the last two weeks.’ Then she went on to say that she plans on quitting one of her 4 jobs so that she can spend more time at the NGO and work together more with me. Woo hoo!

Let’s see what else. I’ve also been working on the grant proposal for the beekeeping class that she will be teaching starting this fall. The bee lady lives in the neighboring village, about a 30 minute walk. One day during the week of the rains, I went over to her house to work with her. I waited until it was just a light rain, and then set out down the hill. But of course the skies opened up, and by the time I got to her house I was drenched. I spent the entire afternoon sitting in her house in my underwear. But we accomplished a lot, so I guess it was worth it. Plus I of course got home made sheep cheese, some honey-vodka, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, and some honeycomb. Woo hoo!

As for the rains, wow! I’ve never seen anything like this before. The beach where we hung out after the camp – completely gone. The river near Soroca swelled to 3x its normal width, and the water level reached almost to the top of the retaining walls built exactly in case this happens. It was creepy to look at the now huge rushing river. The bus station in Soroca flooded and the road into town from my village closed. In other places people lost their homes. Also, here’s a geography lesson for you. The borders of Moldova are the River Prut on the west, with Romania on the other side, and the River Nistru on the east, with Ukraine on the other side. Funny, several different news sources reported disastrous flooding in Ukraine and Romania due to the overflowing of the Nistru and Prut rivers. But in Moldova, so it seems, nothing happend. What, the rivers only overflowed on one side? Or it’s not disastrous if Moldova floods, just Romania and Ukraine? Boo!

I have now discovered the allure of living in a village. Beyond the fact that you can walk everyone, and everyone knows everyone, and there is beautiful countryside all around, there is the over-crowded and diversly-sowed garden that is requisite for any up-standing Moldovan household. Being that my host parents are abroad, the upkeep of said garden has fallen under the responsibility of two delightful and ‘TARE’ women in their mid 20s, that is, me and my host sister. In one plot of land a bit larger than your typical basketball court, we have onions, garlic, carrots, potatoes, cabbage, green peppers, six different kinds of grapes, strawberries, cherries, apples, and numerous beautiful flowers. So every night I go out and pick some tomatoes, or pull an onion out of the ground, and make some dinner. We sometimes go out to weed, or water, or tie up the tomatoes or grapevines that are being weighed down, or whatever needs to be done. There is enough of everything except the potatoes to be canned and last through the winter. Some of it will be pickled (not a fan), some of it will be marinated (so-so), and some of it combined into a delished pickled/marinated salad (am a fan). And there will be enough grapes to make 500 liters of wine, which will hopefully last until next year’s harvest. (Good thing harvest is coming soon, because we’re almost out of the stuff from last year!) And on top of that, we have also gone over to the relatives, who have a much bigger plot of land, and collected berries. With the goods we made many jars of both raspberry and currant jam. Mmmm. The raspberries – oh my! One day I just sat in the raspberry patch and ate until I couldn’t eat any more. Then I grabbed a few apricots off the tree on the way out to eat later. Oh, and then I made a really AWEsome raspberry pie with homemade crust and everything. Woo hoo!

Oh, and my dog had four adorable little puppies! I get to keep one! Woo hoo!

We Got a Washing Machine!

One time, the four of us camp directors were waiting on a rutiera in Bălți (the second largest city in Moldova, in the north). It is not uncommon for beggers, often little girls, to come on the rutiera and ask for money. We were in the back row, and one girl came up and just stood in front of us for like 5 minutes, which is like an eternity. Finally I gave her two 1 leu bills in the hopes that she would go away. She backed up a bit and pulled out a huge wad of money and started flashing it around! So my colleague turns to me and says, ‘sucker!’ We all kind of chuckeled and said, ya, I’m a sucka! Then the girl looks and me and goes, ‘sucka sucka sucka!,’ laughs, and dashes off the rutiera! Nice.

Summer is here, things are really starting to grow, and I’m starting to realize just how ignorant I am about agriculture, and where my food comes from. I have no idea what fruits and vegetables look like when they are planted, and I feel stupid that I have to ask. ‘Duh Kate, those are carrots!’ Of course. And the trees! I didn’t know that peach trees have beautiful pink blossoms! Now that my host mom is working abroad with her husband (they have both been in the Czech Republic since the beginning of May), it is just me and my sister at home, taking care of the garden and the land on the outskirts of the village, so I’ve gotten my hands dirty once or twice. The first time I had to be told which were the weeds and which are the parsley. We Americans just buy everything at the supermarket and don’t even stop to think or question where our food came from. Now I can at least say that I know a little bit.

I love that I can just walk out my door and pick cherries off the tree or strawberries from the bushes. I had a great evening strolling around my partner’s huge garden with her daughter, stopping at every tree and just eating fruit until my belly was about to burst. I ate cherries (I climbed up in the tree to reach the best ones!), sour cherries, raspberries, strawberries, currants, and some weird yellow berry that I can’t even describe. It was glorious. Oh, and I ate peas and liked them!!! Picked ‘em right out of the pods that had been given to me by a neighbor as I was passing by on my way to work one day.

I also had a fabulous day harvesting honey at the bee lady’s house. (She’s also the one I helped with the sheep project back in February.) I walked over to her village with the crocheting and music teacher (who is always good for laughs), and together with the bee lady’s husband and two sons, we spun out about 140 frames of honey. The six of us were crammed in one little hot shed, working hard all afternoon, sweaty and sticky, but the end result was a huuuuge barrel of honey. And then of course we sat down and ate it with sheep cheese and homemade wine. Moldova rocks sometimes. But then I started talked to the grandpa, and we were discussing how no one can make a decent wage, and all of the young people are leaving, and then he started to cry! He said it just isn’t fair that he worked hard his whole life and is 80 years old and still has to look for extra sources of income because he can’t live off of his pension (not to mention the only option for saving for retirement is putting cash under the matress). And that his grandchildren can’t find well-paying jobs here and everyone’s families are torn apart because people leave and leave their children behind. Seeing this man cry was one of the most heart-wrenching moments I’ve experienced so far in Moldova. Something definitely needs to change here.

As far as my work is concerned, things are picking up. My partners and I have several ideas for big projects we would like to start working on. All the volunteers and their partners went to a 3-day project design and management workshop put on by Peace Corps back in May, so we have a better idea of how to approach things. My English kids want to continue through the summer, but less frequently. I’m working with the kindergarten still, to get them much needed education games and toys for physcial activity. I’d like to put together some kind of financial planning/cost benefit anaylsis seminar to address the problem that people never look farther ahead than the next 9 months or so. Also, a woman in the community (the bee lady) wants to teach an optional class in beekeeping at the school, and I might join her to teach business skills, kind of like a Junior Achievement course. And one of my two partners is the director of the regional rest camp, located right across the street from our village, so I’ve been called over to attend opening ceremonies, judge beauty pageants, and teach the kids American games. The first week she tells me, ‘it would be nice if you can come tomorrow to teach the kids some games.’ I said, ‘ok, what time?’ She says, ‘5:00. You have a stage, 250 kids ages 8 to 18, and one hour.’ I was like, oh geez, how in the heck do I plan for that? Luckily I was able to call in my trusty fellow volunteer from Soroca, and we did a bunch of relay race games (bat spin anyone?!).

Things are really getting going for our women’s camp. Lucky for me, the location was changed to Soroca, so it’s convenient. But that means I have to keep going to there to meet with the camp director, bring supplies, draw maps, scout out bus schedules, etc. We’ve also been very busy dealing with a minor budget crisis, due to the location change (the new place is more expensive), which also increased transportation costs since it’s farther away from the center (not to mention rising gas prices). And the dollar lost 8% since we submitted our grants two months ago (the grants were dollar-denominated, and we receive the money this week at the current exchange rate). Luckily we were able to come up with last minute donations, and the camp will go on! So many of my nights and weekends have been occupied with planning for this camp over the last 4 months, so it better be good!

So a few more notes about the rutieras. It’s really a love/hate relationship. The other day I went to Bălți, to do some shopping for our camp. It’s about an hour and a half rutiera ride away, but I clearly got on the rutiera from h-e-double-hockey-sticks. Since I hopped on in my village instead of the beginning of the route in Soroca, I had to stand. Usually this isn’t a problem because seats will open up as people get off in villages along the way. Unfortunately, hardly anyone got off, and more people kept getting on. And people have no regard for others whatsoever. No one moves back to make room, people who are sitting leave their huge bags in the aisles, people stop to smoke and then squish back in right next to me, there’s a bag with dead chickens in it, etc. My body was contorted at a weird angle to support myself among the throng of people. I wanted to throw-up from the jerkiness of the driving because of the severely pot-holed roads, and I wanted to pass out from the heat. And they yell if you open in the window for some air because the current will make everyone sick. No, actually that is precious airflow that will stop you from dying of heat exhaustion. I won’t even start on the smell...

But why I love the rutieras is this – it also doubles as a super express postal service! Yes, you can stop a rutiera, hand him a package, and for a small fee (50 cents - $2, depending on the package, obscureness of the drop-off location, and your negotiating skills) he will deliver it for you within the next few hours! As long as the package’s destination is along his route, it’s pretty much a sure deal. It’s remarkable. I once was in Ungheni, a city near the Romanian border, and my friend’s host mom says, ‘go to the bus station and wait for the 6:45 from Chișinău. The drivers name is Vlad.’ Sure enough, when the rutiera arrived, Vlad gave us a plastic bag with a little girl’s bathing suit in it. My friend’s host mom’s niece (got that?) had forgotten it in Chișinău, and she was due at rest camp the next morning. So now this past weekend, it came to be that I had 5 purple and orange nerf-floating-noodle thingies in my possession which were urgently needed by a group of volunteers in Chișinău the next day (no, you cannot buy nerf-floating-noodle thingies in Moldova). Well, it would require 6 hours and $13 if I were to bring them there myself, so I decided it was time for me to test out this system. I stood out on the side of the road at 5.45 the next morning, holding a bag of flourescent-colored nerf-floating-noodle thingies, waiting to hail the next rutiera to chisinau (all of the inter-city rutieras have signs in the front window listing the beginning and ending points, which often I can’t read until the rutiera is almost passing me by so then I quickly jutt out my hand to signal them to stop and they come screeching to a halt and then the driver glares at me or curses me under his breath in Russian). The 6:00 Soroca - Chișinău approaches, I signal him to stop (giving him an ample amount of time), give him my nicest ‘could you pretty please take these to the north bus station in Chișinău?,’ hand him 10 lei, and he takes them without even batting an eye and shoves them under his seat. Three hours later, a volunteer calls me to say she had made the pick-up. Success!

The four of us camp directors now have a favorite taxi-driver in Chișinău. We’ve been staying a lot in an apartment (the one from the ‘hahaha, nyet’ story) that requires a taxi ride from the center. We now always call this driver because he will go out of his way to bring us through the McDonalds drive-through to get McFlurries on our way to the apartment at 11:00 at night.

I went to a mass exorcism and slept in a monk’s bed. Just throwin' that out there.

And the last thing, there is now a washing machine in my house! I have gotten used to almost everything here that we would consider uncomfortable back home (I actually like holes better than toilets now), but I really had begun to loathe hand-washing my clothes. I don’t care that we don’t have a dryer, I just need something to wash, rinse, and wring out my clothes better than I can. I used the machine for the first time this week, and it was glorious! I’m telling you: appreciate your washing machines! Yes, try to buy one that uses less water and energy, and so on, but really, a washing machine is a good thing!

Bine Ati Venit in Moldova

This entry is a guest entry, written by my family members who visited me from May 12-19:

Moldova Visited
By Agnes, John J., and John F. Biese
(comments by me)

Mixed emotions was the perfect term for the rampage of feelings we experienced during the six week period from the time we decided to visit Katie until May 1st, the day we departed.

Anxiety had to be the leading emotion as we worried about the complex travel arrangements Expedia prepared for us – four different flights each way also, three different airlines each way. That, combined with the media reporting all the problems our airline companies were having, especially Delta, our major transport across the big pond, definitely made anxiety the king of emotions. Added to that was the task of finding accommodations in Vienna that weren’t astronomically expensive. (We can lecture on that topic for hours.)

Anticipation was next on the list as our 19 day trip would include visiting Vienna, Prague, Salzburg and Berchtesgaden before spending a week in Moldova.

And finally, excitement for seeing Katie for the first time since she left on September 9th 2007. During that time she had experienced so much that we wondered if it had changed her noticeably. (If we forget to mention it later, it did not. She’s the same old loveable Kate.)(Yes I am!)

The trip to Vienna where Katie was going to meet us was a looonnng one. It was caused by a canceled and a replacement flight that left us with a nine hour layover in Atlanta. We were supposed to leave Appleton around 11:00 AM and instead, left at 6:00. After our 10 day stay in Vienna we were on our way to Moldova. Katie left Vienna two days before we did to attend a weekend conference and would be waiting for us at the airport in Chisinau, the capitol city.

Arriving in Chisinau one and a half hours late, we slowly processed through customs and - the lost baggage department – Agnes’ bag never made it from Vienna. Fortunately she had judiciously packed her backpack-carryon for just such an occurrence as she would not retrieve her suitcase for five more days. (I was very impressed by the way my mother handled this situation – she wore the same clothes 3 days in a row and didn’t complain once!)

John F’s first memorable moment of Moldova was going out of the air terminal and seeing Katie in the face of three, male, taxi drivers, attempting to haggle them down on the price of a ride into town. She lost – they all stuck together and we were stuck with a high tab. (I beg to differ – I put up a dang good fight, and got them down from 200 lei to 150!)

We stayed that night at a hotel the Peace Corps uses for its meetings. The first thing Katie did after we arrived at the hotel was give us some do’s and don’ts for life in Moldova. First, do not flush the toilet paper. Roll it up and place it in the basket/bucket next to the commode. Next, always have a leu (10 cents) or two handy in case you needed to use a public toilet. Most countries in Europe charge to use public WCs – Water Closets. (In Vienna we needed a half Euro [75 cents]). Also, if we wanted a hot shower we had to take it betwixt 8 and 10 in the morning since that was the only time hot water was available.

The next morning we took our bags to Peace Corps HQ for storage while we trekked to Katie’s village for three days, carrying just enough clothing and supplies for that time period in our backpacks.

In Moldova there are three methods of transportation: Rutieras, taxis, and private autos. Rutieras are minivans you can stand up in and have seating for nine to twenty or so passengers. The joke among the PC people is: How many people can you get into a Rutiera? The answer: “Always one more.” There were 39 people at one time on the 22 seater we took to Volovita. (The worst part is that even though it’s suffocating in there, Moldovans refuse to open the window for fear of the dreaded current.) Another PC “game” we learned about is to trying to see how long you can stand up in a Rutiera without holding on to a part of the vehicle.

Katie’s village is a small community of about 1000 people located on a hill in northern Moldova. It has two blocks of paved streets, the rest composed of dirt and whatever the weather makes them. The only businesses I saw were a gas station and small café. (For the record, there are 3 tiny convenience stores.)

Shortly after arriving in the village we met her Moldovan partners Svetlana and Angela. It didn’t take long to realize why Katie liked working in Moldova. These ladies were wonderful and you could tell by the way they talked how much affection they had for Katie. Later that day we met Katie’s host sister Natasha. She is just a year older than Kate and is a really good friend. She has a degree in International Relations, can’t get a job or a visa to leave the country to get one, so she studied cosmetology hoping for success in that arena. While we were there, Natasha was replacing her mom where she worked – her sister and husband’s business – while she was visiting her husband in Prague where he was working. (Since we returned from our trip we learned that Natasha’s mom also got a job in the Prague area and we assume Natasha will continue to work for her.) Natasha did take her cosmetology exam using Katie as her model. How did she do? (Very well, considering she had the ‘ugliest client and most difficult task of making her look beautiful’ – yes, I endured 3 hours of women calling me hideous and advising Natasha on how to hide all of my 'imperfections'.)

We enjoyed the hospitality of several families, much to the chagrin of our waistlines. We tried every type of food we were served: roasted rabbit with wine, mamaliga (a type of corn bread) with wine, pork with wine, chicken with wine, sheep cheese with wine, – and many more dishes I cannot remember. We do think that they kept it pretty conventional for us – no head cheese, filet of tongue, meat jello etc. (The meat jello is actually quite tasty.)

Almost every family has a large garden and a menagerie of small animals – rabbits, chickens, and geese to sustain themselves. A few have cows and pigs. One we visited had bees and milking sheep – the latter obtained with Katie’s help.

Did I mention that wine is the number one agriculture product of Moldova? Everyone we ate with demonstrated that fact again, and again, and again. BURP! Her host sister even had the “nerve” to bring out the (home-made) vodka after a scrumptious meal she and her cousin prepared for us.

It would take another page or two to talk about the countryside – beautiful land to support agriculture; nearby town of Soroca (about 5 km) which has adequate stores, a fortress built in 1494 and a lot of gypsies; and Chisinau, the capitol city. But space is limited. Oh, what the heck:
The most crowded, cleanest restaurant in Chisinau with neat, uniformed workers – Mc Donald’s. Prices were as high as in the US – which was not the case in other restaurants where the prices were much lower.

The smallest businesses in Chisinau - old ladies sitting on a stool on the sidewalks next to a bathroom scale. Weigh yourself for a leu (pronounced “l-yo”). I weighed 85 kilograms on one.
The largest wine “cellar” in the world – just outside Chisinau – 650,000,000 liters of wine contained in 1,300 barrels (big ones about 8’ in diameter, 2,200 vats, and 2 million bottles. This is stored along 55 km. of underground streets that you travel on with autos. They make wine only when the grapes are good – they were in 2007, but not in several previous years. We bought a .7 liter bottle for $2.55. A nearby display case had .7 liter bottles for prices ranging from $1,237.50 to $2,475.00.

During our short stay we met several people and families Katie either lived or worked with and we realized that big hearted, friendly, and giving people surrounded Katie. These warm experiences of Katie’s village went a long way towards allaying this mother’s worries about her daughter in a far away land.

Our six day visit to Moldova was rewarding and reassuring and also gave us a greater understanding of Katie’s blogs – in summary, a tremendous trip. We still miss Katie however (I miss you too), but we worry much less.

Visit again next year????? Possibly (They’ll be back)

Hahahaha, Nyet

A couple weekends ago we were in Chișinău for some more interviews for our camp counselors. We are tired of paying for hotels ($13 is expensive on a PC budget), so we decided staying at an apartment for free would be better. Turns out one volunteer’s host mom has a sister who is working in Italy and has an empty apartment in the city. So the host mom drew us a detailed map of how to get to the building, as well as how to find the apartment once we’re in the building, and how to turn on the water once we’re in the apartment. So it’s about 11 pm, and we’re dropped off by taxi at building 29, and the driver gives a slight wave and says to look for our building (33 according the map) over there somewhere. Ok. These are huge Soviet apartment blocks, not well marked, and we can’t find 33 anywhere. We happen to catch site of a man coming out of building 31, about to get into his mini-bus. We ask him if he can tell us where building 33 is and give him our map. He’s not exactly friendly, and he tells us 33 doesn’t exist. Super. We’re like, ‘but it has to, it’s on the map!’ He says it’s probably supposed to be 31, and we should call the people we are visiting to come out and get us, but we reply that there is no one there. He turns over the map and looks at the drawing of the apartment within the building. He lets out a Hahuhuhuh, followed by a definitive ‘nyet.’ What is it with me and the nyet’s? We were like, what does that mean? He then asks us if we have keys. Yes. Let me see them, he says. What’s the name of the people you are visiting? We don’t know, it is a relative who went to Italy. He then pulls out his cell phone. We were like, oh geez, is he calling Italy? What did we do? Turns out he was calling the volunteerțs host mom. He asks her if her sister is expecting visitors from the US, and then yells at her for writing 33 on the map instead of 31. Turns out, that out of all the thousands of people living in these huge apartment blocks, we ask assistance of the very man who has been left with the task of looking over this woman’s apartment while she is in Italy. Lucky us! After clearing up the matter with the host mom, he brings us upstairs, unlocks the bazillion locks, turns on the water for us, and shows us around. The joke for the rest of the weekend was, ‘hahahaha, nyet.’

Moldova rocks in the spring. Everything is becoming more beautiful every day, and I’m falling more in love with my village, now that it’s coming alive. The trees are blossoming, the sun comes out, you can see greens and browns and yellows on all the rolling hills. People are out in the fields, kids are out playing in the dirt roads, and goats, chickens, and other animals are roaming about. I’ve never actually seen a baby goat before – they are soooo cute when they jump around! There are random baby chicks wandering around in our garden, and my cat is pregnant. I go on frequent run/walks through the local forests with the kids, and they pick me flowers, and I sneeze a lot. I spent a long afternoon, a rare one by myself, sitting in a orchard down in the valley reading a book, watching the fluffy clouds pass overhead. People are out and about, and any time I walk anywhere in the village, I stop at least two or three times to chat with people about this or that. Last weekend, a fellow volunteer came to visit me in my village, and after persistant requests from four of the village girls, we took a walk to Soroca to go to the ‘candle,’ a big monument that looks like a candle, perched on top of a hill overlooking the river Nistru and to Ukraine beyond. It’s about 2.5 miles to the city, with a short cut down the hill through the woods, and then 500 stairs back up to the candle. It was a very pleasant walk (despite a little headwind and some sprinkles) and after making it up to the candle, we explored in the woods, looking for the cave and spring, which we never actually found. The four girls are great, and I’ve taken quite a liking to two of them, who always come to everything I ever suggest, including English, computer classes, leadership seminars, and running. I love feeling loved.

One of my favorite times in the last month was the evening a spent with a fellow volunteer and her host parents, after doing a seminar in her village. We just sat at the table for a good three hours talking about who knows what and laughing a lot. I’ve gotten to the point where I can converse freely without thinking about language, if there are fewer people and they aren’t all talking quickly and all at once amongst themselves. By the end of the evening, he had pulled out his mini-accordion, and Sam (the other volunteer) had pulled out her ukulele, and we were all singing. Evenings like that are the best.

Work-wise, things are going. I’ve been busy with computer classes for both adults and kids, and collaborating with the kindergarten for a grant. My partners and I have been discussing various project ideas, and of course I’ve been busy with the camp. Also, the volunteer in Soroca and I took a few days and went to all of the banks in the city to investigate different credit options for entrepreneurs. There are 7 different institutions, including one specifically for business loans, and yet none of them really offered anything favorable. There is no investment mentality here – people don’t really understand the concept of investing money now – to build a greenhouse, install irrigation, buy higher quality seeds, etc. – and seeing better results a few years from now. However, with the credit conditions here, I can see why they would be somewhat averse to taking out a credit, regardless of the prospects. The absolute longest term that we found was 7 years, so any real long term investment is out. The average annual interest rate was about 24%, paid monthly, with no grace period. Also, the problem of collateral – some banks required as much as 200%! Most people don’t have anything to offer. I keep reading about various development agencies that have worked with the banks here to provide a system of credit for antrepreneurs, but so far I have not seen that put into practice at all. Makes it hard to convince people of the benefits of investment. So that’s a little frustrating.

At home I’ve finally convinced my family to let me be the designated dish-washer. This came after I helped my mom cut fire wood (yeah, we’re still building fires at night to heat the house), and spent a morning hacking weeds out in their plot of land just outside the village. I’m becoming more Moldovan everyday, and feeling more at home.

This past weekend was the Orthodox Easter. And no offense to my own religion, but it is way cooler than the Catholic Easter. The night before all the young people build fires with tires (yeah, ok, that’s not real good for the environment) and then jump over them, and there is some prediction about your marriage depending on how you jump. Then many people go to Church starting at 11pm and stay until the sun comes up. I didn’t do that, but I did wake up at 3 to go with my host sister and uncle to my grandma’s village and go to Church there. The most important thing is that you take your basket of Easter food (eggs, meat, and especially the ‘pasca’ – special bread, cheese) and get it blessed by the priest before the sun comes up. The ceremony was beautiful. The entire village (or at least someone from each family) was lined up along the walkway leading up to the Church, with their baskets in front of them, holding candles that brightened up the dark morning. Around 4 the priest came out, flanked by a choir of 20 teenage girls, said a prayer, and then walked around and sprayed everyone and their food with water. After this, we dropped off grandma and went home to sleep for a few hours. The rest of the day was of course filled with eating and drinking and family. We started at home at 11 (eating the blessed food first, of course), and two sets of aunts and uncles and cousins came over. After I was so full I couldn’t move anymore, we went back to grandmas for some more food. This grandma rocks. Like all grandmas, she’s always trying to give treats to the kids, and even though she’s old and walks with a cane (i.e., a bent tree branch), she still takes care of chickens, pigs, a dog, a sick husband, two new baby goats, her home and garden, and so much more. She wears the traditional baba head scarf, a thick maroon (with purple and red flowers) bathrobe-like sweater, with a gray fur pad tied around her waist, and thick slipper-like boots on her feet. You just want to hug her. Anyways, after grandma’s house, we went back home and the neighbors came over, including the daughter home from college. We ate again, and later in the evening went to the ‘joc’ or village dance. The had speakers and a keyboard set up in the back of a truck, with big lights illuminating a little clearing in the center of the village. 20-somethings home from college or working abroad reunited, little kids ran around, and the adults chatted and let loose for an evening. There was dancing until the wee hours of the morning. I was immediately sought out by a somewhat inebriated young man home from Moscow. Jeepers, I couldn’t get rid of this guy! I was dancing whether I wanted to or not. At the end of one song, all of the men are supposed to pull out their hankercheif and kneel down on it on one knee and kiss the hand of the woman. However this dude couldn’t find his hankercheif and was wearing white pants, so he kept saying ‘just wait a second, just wait a second!’ as he frantically searched for it. I was like ‘I’m waiting, I’m waiting!’ Everyone in the immediate are was looking and laughing (in a good way). Finally, I took off my black coat and put it down on the ground in front of him, and he knelt down on that. Everyone cracked up. A little while later he proclaimed that ‘his heart beats for me’ and I decided it was time to go. All in all, not a bad Easter. Oh, and for the next 40 days, instead of greeting each other normally, people say ‘Christ is risen,’ which is responded to with ‘He is risen indeed.’ Kind of nice, and interesting, since that would never happen at home.

Playing the Moldovans at Baseball

Ok folks, this is a long one -- a lot has happened since I last wrote. So grab a cold one and settle in...

Within the time span of two short weeks, I managed to play baseball, start a running club, get tipsy at a 1 year old’s birthday party, and drink German beer and dance the polka in public – all things I never thought I’d ever do in Moldova.

For starters, yes! They play baseball here! (Skip to next paragraph if you are bored by baseball details.) There are two leagues around Chișinău with a dozen or so teams. One of the volunteers who played with the Moldovans last summer started up an all-American team this year, so naturally I jumped at the opportunity to play. I was told that there were other girls on the team, but come game day, they were nowhere to be seen. So, having not played competitively in years, and having never actually played baseball, I was a little leery about just jumping in this game. I offered my cheerleading services instead. But after three innings, the first catcher said he was tired and so in I went. The coach of the other team, who was calling the game from the mound, was like, ‘Jerry (the volunteer who started the team)! What’s with the girl?!’ He was like, ‘It’s cool, she plays.’ I was like, ‘Oh dear Lord, please help me not make a fool of myself.’ It was so strange to be back behind the plate again, and strange to get used to the overhand delivery. But I stopped almost everything in the dirt, much to the amazement of more than one person, including myself. I also got a lot of dirty/curious/come-hither looks from the members of the other team as they came up to the plate. I should mention that the age range of the other team was about 12 to 60, and they could more or less play. Oh, and the field was basically your typical sandlot (see photo). There was a path going through the middle of it, which most people avoided, seeing that there was some sort of game in progress. There was, however, one woman and her little boy, who marched right through the middle of the game, and then got in a shouting match in Russian with the other team. Oh, Moldova. Oh yeah, and I was looking forward to hearing the Romanian words for the baseball lingo, but unfortunately, the other team was mostly Russian-speaking, and all of the baseball-specific words were simply in English. Like ‘out’ or ‘batter.’ The bases were called by the Russian numbers (Adeen, Dva, Tree), and there was a lot ‘davai, davai!’ (let’s go, let’s go!). Anyways, on to my at-bat. I was forced to go up to the plate having not even picked up a bat in ages. Lucky for me, with a 1-2 count, our man was caught stealing to end the inning. So to start the next inning, I winked at the pitcher, who was clearly flustered by my presence, and managed to get a walk (or ‘baz on balls’). I didn’t realize until I got to first that I have no idea what the rule is for leading off. I just kinda danced around out there, and the pitcher tried to pick me off once, hehe. All in all it was a wonderful day. The sun was out, there was that smell in the air (wait, that was probably burning trash...), there was the crack of the mitt and the ping of the bat, and a slight feeling of being part of a team again. Oh, and we lost like 20 to 2.

Moving on...I have a running club! Never thought I’d see the day. So I was teaching English one day, when one of the girls in the front row blurted out, ‘Miss Kate, are you running today? Can I go with you?’ About four others chimed in, ‘Yeah, I want to run too!’ I was blown away. They refused to continue with the English lesson until I set a date and time for us to run. Five kids showed up at my gate the next Tuesday. Cool! Of course they are wearing things like jeans and slippers, but what they heck, let’s see what they got. Well, we made it about half way to the next village, or about 5 km total. Not bad!! And it was fun! They’re all really chatty and energetic. So we went again the next day. The third day I had a very important 1-year-old’s birthday party to attend, but the kids ran without me. Apparently word of this daily athletic endeavor is spreading beyond the English circle. Saturday morning I got out off the rutiera in Soroca, a little girl came running up to me and said, ‘Miss Kate, are you running this afternoon? I would like to run too.’ I had never even seen this girl before! Ok! That afternoon 10 kids showed up, only 4 of whom I actually knew. So now each day the group changes a bit, and the kids have varying abilities. Some of the kids who really can’t keep up have started riding bikes along side the runners. But it’s just great that they’re out there. And there’s even an expressed interest in having a little 5k here. Man that would be awesome, but I’m not going to get too excited yet.

So the 1-year-old’s b-day. Man, these people celebrate everything. And they don’t celebrate half-way. The little girl, Vica, is my host cousin, and the entire family from both sides showed up for the occasion. I had never met the uncle side of the family before, and they were pretty cool. The grandpa was awesome. The grandpas are always the best. We made a ‘Catusha’ sandwich when he found out his wife and I have the same name. He found out that we both have the same favorite Moldovan food (stuffed cabbage), but then proceeded to tell me that it’s much better when you smother it in the meat jello. Ummm... not sure I agree on that one.

There is also a lot of celebrating simply because it’s March. I guess spring officially begins here on March 1st, and it is tradition for people to wear little ‘Mărțișori’ on their shirts for at least the first week, if not the whole month. The girls crochet these little pins, which consist of a red and a white tassel. Red symbolizes love, and white new life. Apparently the girls give it to the boys of whom they are fond, but pretty much everyone has one. I did get one from one of my English boys, and one of my English girls. I wear them proudly (one at a time). There was also much hoopla surrounding March 8, International Women’s Day. Everyone was talking about it starting in February, but other than a few flowers being given, I didn’t really see a whole lot of action for the actual day.

Last week we were all in Chișinău for an in-service training, and the second night we went to a German restaurant. It was wonderful!! They had everything from Franziskaner beer to men in lederhosen playing the accordion! The music was a Moldovafied polka, but fun nevertheless. The place was packed, but no one was really dancing. Until we came, that is. We got out there for the chicken dance and some polka/hora dances. When the chicken dance was played again a few hours later, a few Moldovans joined us and said it is more fun when the Americans are there. Hehe.

Last weekend, the M22s (the volunteers who arrived in February) had a field trip to Soroca. So naturally, TJ, my fellow volunteer who lives in Soroca, and I decided it would be fun to meet up with them, since we hadn’t had the occasion to get to know any of them yet. We weren’t really sure where to find them, but we knew where to start – the fortress. It is not possible to go to Soroca and not go to the fortress. It was built by the son of Moldova’s hero, Ștefan cel Mare (Steven the Great, who was a cousin of Vlad the Impaler), as a defense against the Turks in the early 16th century. It’s not very big, and not super remarkable, but I suppose interesting enough. The two of us have been there multiple times, since anytime anyone comes to the area, we have to take them to the fortress. (Naturally, should any of you come to visit, we will go to the fortress.) So we walk in, and the two ladies who work there immediately said, ‘the Americans were here, but now they’re at the synagogue.’ As simple as that, we didn’t even have to say anything. We caught up to the Americans just as they were boarding the bus to go to lunch. Super. We hitched a ride and I spent the lunch hour talking with the new volunteers. It was kinda crazy to think how far I’ve come since six months ago, when I was in their shoes. Everything was new and strange and overwhelming. Now everything is old and normal and overwhelming. Anyways, it was fun to talk to them, and maybe offer some reassurance. Then they went off to meet the Gypsy King, and I went off to meet my running club.

Well, apparently the women in my village have decided that I’m fat and ugly. Well, not so harshly, but yeah. I was sitting down the other day when one of them grabbed my stomach and was like, ‘what’s this?!’ I was like, ‘what?! This is what happens when you yell at me to eat all day every day!’ Fact is, it’s kind of a miracle that I haven’t gained any weight since being here. Anyways, they went on to say that it’s not ok for me to be fat until I’m married. Also, more than one person has told me I should wear more make-up (I usually only put on a little mascara), and I should cut my hair and style it every day. Apparently this past week all of the teachers decided they would cut my hair for me. I put my foot down there. I’m in the Peace Corps for cryin’ out loud! It’s not like I dress poorly, in fact, quite the opposite. I just don’t get all gussied up. Seriously, the young girls here dress like their going to a fancy club every day. It’s starting to get on my nerves. I’m ok with being single!!! And when I do find someone, it’s not going to be because I’m a beauty queen!

So you want to know what it is I actually DO here? Well, I’ve been occupying my time quite nicely of late. I’ve been working a lot with my fellow directors on planning for the summer camp. We had to finish our grant applications, which included a detailed budget that I happily put together in excel (I heart Excel!). We’re now in the process of recruiting and selecting our Moldovan counselors, whom we will interview this Saturday. We’re also revising the curriculum a bit from last year, so that will take a lot of work. In my community, I of course have my English and running groups, and I’m going to start working a few days a week at the computer center and giving lessons in various computer skills. I’m also working on putting together a program in Excel to automate the calculations for the village’s savings and loan association – right now everything is done by hand, and there are piles and piles of paper that take forever to sort through when looking for something specific. I’m translating the instructions for the World Map Project – we’re going to paint a huge map (I heart maps!) on the wall of the cafeteria that is being newly constructed at the school, and throughout and after the painting of the map there will be various fun learning activities. And as far as developing the local economy, I’m trying to figure out what project to run with...expressed desires include expanding/developing a dairy farm, constructing a greenhouse to grow strawberries, building a cold storage facility to keep fruits, and a rabbit farm. These all could be rather large projects, and the problem I face now is trying to figure out who would really be committed to something and who is more like, ‘oh, that would be nice, but it’s too much work.’ And of course, the fact that I don’t actually know anything about that stuff. But I can help organize seminars, find information, plan budgets, search for funding, etc. I’ve also gotten repeated requests to help the local kindergarten procure toys (for inside and outside) and furniture. The kids literally have nothing right now. I’m also continually reading information on a variety of topics and trying to improve my language. I would like to work more with my NGO just on how it is structured and what it’s scope is, but today I found out that the only three active women don’t really have time to dedicate to the NGO and therefore want to de-register as an NGO and simply be an ‘association.’ Hmmm. So yeah, that’s the more or less useful stuff that I’m doing!

Pa for now!