Nostalgia

The more I’m here in Moldova and in my village (a decidedly Russian word - where we differentiate between towns and cities, they differentiate between villages and cities), the more I realize just how much this place is like 1950's America, or at least what I’ve read about it. My family here cans a lot of food to prepare for winter (having just finished peas and apricots and started canning meat), there is a big reliance on public transportation, most people lack television options (we have in my house three channels, the state TV broadcasts of Moldova, Romania, and Russia), people spend a lot of time actually stopping and conversing with others - even the rotary phone we have here is just like the one my grandma finally retired only a decade or so ago. There is little in terms of flashy technology, people spend whole days reading, and there is a strong sense of community, as people are expected to greet each other as they pass. In a way, to enter here is to get a glance at nostalgia, at an American society that we are far removed from now. Even the capital of Chisinau, where I spent my last Saturday (more later on that), feels not like a modern ‘advanced’ capital but more like a rather like several small cities put together: rather than feeling like one city of 500,000 it feels more like ten cities of 50,000 that are all next to each-other. It is difficult to describe exactly but if and when I get some visitor(s) here, I think that said visitor(s) will get a feeling like I do.

And to top it all off, people still slaughter their own animals. Disclaimer: Somewhat Graphic Material Ahead. I saw it firsthand on Sunday morning about 10:00: present were myself, the two other volunteers in the village, our Russian teacher, and the Director of Training for the Peace Corps, an amazing woman named Galina Chira, as well as a driver from the Peace Corps who brought her up from Chisinau. We were all sitting around talking with my host mother when we heard the sound of a squeal from the backyard - there was no doubt what had started. I thought my host father and brother were going to kill the pig by cutting the jugular, but I was told that it would lose to much blood that way: instead, they tied the back legs of the animal and stuck in the heart. I won’t get too descriptive about the sound (there was nothing too bad to look at from our distance), but I will simply say, I now know where the phrase "squeal like a stuck pig" come from - I believe there is no other sound in the world quite like it. It’s gruesome. And there is no mistaking it when it happens. Actually, the killing itself was hard to watch and hear because while a cut to the jugular is quick, this is a slow, painful process. We all just stared in rapt attention actually, everyone but the two who where doing the killing.

But after the animal was dead it actually got really interesting. First they took what I would call a ‘mini-flame thrower,’ something the size of a coffee can, and singed off all the hair before scraping the burnt follicles. Then they and the Peace Corps driver (who jumped in to help) went over the whole body of the animal with the ‘mini-flame thrower’ and turned all the skin black - every square inch down to the tail. This was a long and arduous process, taking about an hour for the whole animal, done in a meticulous manner. After the skin had been scorched the top layer comes off simply and quickly with water and a rag - the whole body of the animal was totally white. Then my host father took a knife and scraped off some of the skin for us to eat - while the Moldovans were more than happy to dine (it’s a bit of a delicacy for them), none of us Yankees were willing to try. From there my host father simply cut off the head with an axe and (literally) gutted the pig, a process that was interesting to watch - he removed every organ basically one-by-one and scooped out the blood with a teacup. After this spectacle all of us associated with the Peace Corps departed for the part of the country called Orhei Vecchi (Old Orhei); upon our return we dined on freshly roasted fresh meat (I can now say that pig liver and heart are not too bad if roasted. Of course, I didn’t know I was eating pig liver and heart until long after we were done). And in a bit of irony, the morning of the slaughter my family here received a two new pigs, barely a few weeks old. From what I’ve heard, they’ll be ready by Christmas.

Orhei Vecchi was also amazing - it’s a settlement that’s literally thousands of years old, as evidenced by relics that they have in the museum on site. It is tough to describe but basically, try to imagine two or three very steep hills that are packed within a few hundred yards of each other - it’s a natural fortress for anyone there, making it the reason why it was settled so early. Within the sides of the hills are several monasteries, none of which are currently operating but one of which we were able to walk around in - very old and very peaceful. There is one section where the monk’s slept that has a very short ceiling - it was designed so that the monks, before and after sleep, had their heads bowed to God. A simple but effective tactic, to say the least. They had a lot of religious things there, and I was very close to buying a copy of the Lords Prayer in Russian - sadly, I only had a large bill and the prayer was only a few lei. They hate to break things like that, especially in a setting such as that. So alas, for another time . . . .

Also, the aforementioned day in Chisinau on Saturday afternoon was great. Thirty-six of the thirty-eight trainees attended, and we were escorted in our town by some volunteers who have been here for a while. We rented two rutiera’s (small buses / large vans) for the thirty mile trek at a cost of one dollar per person. Upon arrival in the capital we split up into groups of eight or so and received a walking tour of the center city, of everything that we’ll need to know about for the next two years. Some of it was things that we’ve seen before but nonetheless, it was still a great day. We were able to walk around, ask questions, and get answers outside the earshot of Peace Corps staff, and as a result there was a certain levity in the air. We all were able to crowd aboard one bus for the way home, and in the back where I was sitting there was a man, possibly drunk, who spoke to some of us in half-Romanian and half-Russian: oddly enough, although the Russian speakers and the Romanian speakers could both understand maybe twenty-five percent of what he told us, together we still only understood only twenty-five percent. Strange how that worked out . . . . But it was a great day nonetheless, one that was both relaxing and exciting at the same time; on one hand it was great to get out of our villages for an afternoon and to be away from PC staff for some time, but on the other hand we left our homes about 7:45 in the morning and returned at 10:15 at night. And this was at then end of a long week in which we traveled four times and had little chance to stop and catch our breathe.

Random Notes
- Our language skills are continuing to advance at a more than acceptable rate. The previously mentioned Galina Chira visited our class last week and she was even surprised by the level on which we operate, by the depths of the grammar into which we have already delved. It’s a good compliment to have, that’s for sure, both to the students and to the teacher. Communication is still tough at times, but I can say with confidence that I can navigate places like markets or restaurants and be just fine in talking with people, asking what they have and how much it is. It’s a breeze now. Next Wednesday is our first Language Assessment, one that is informal really but one that is designed to give all the trainees an idea of where we are in the big scheme. I’m not too worried - my teacher knows what we will be tested on and we all trust her to get us prepared. After that, it’s up to us to put in the work. Also interesting as that we just completed our self-evaluations about our progress. While all of us Russian speakers were especially hard on ourselves, our teacher was epically kind. Every day so far I after class I feel like I have a firm grasp of things but when I get home I quickly feel like I know nothing. I can say though that every day or so I am able to communicate more and more at home.

- It rains here every day. No joke. It’s amazing really, weather I’m not used to at all. It seems like our village in Ivansha is in it’s own little weather pocket, as there are times when it will be literally pouring here but when we get into a car and drive a little (as few as two miles), there not only is no rain but things are totally dry. Even the day of the pig festival was something to behold - in the late morning there was hardly a cloud in the sky when all of a sudden the rain came hard. Where did it come from? No one really knows. But it was something to behold. Then, at Orhei Vecchi, we were putting on sun-tan lotion one minute and no more than thirty minutes later were looking for rain jackets. I’ve never seen weather like this, but I met a guy from Montana on Saturday in Chisinau who said we was used to it, that in regions which are more hilly pockets of weather can change things dramatically and quickly. And I will say also that I now know why this is such a fertile land - good soil combined with a constant rain/heat/rain/heat weather pattern.

- Being in a group of only three trainees (plus our teacher) has some great advantages to counteract the disadvantage of having to learn a tougher language than the others. One big example is transportation - because our village is so isolated, if the Peace Corps wants us at events they often have to provide a ride for us, something that happens a few times a week. So while all the other trainees in other villages are taking hot, crowded public transport everywhere, we ride around in a new, air-conditioned, Toyota Land Cruiser. When we pull up to the crowd of other trainees in these cars, we receive looks that are great. In this respect, it’s good to be a Russian speaker.

- I’ve learned a lot about the school where we study and it’s administration in the last few days. Turns out, our school is somewhat of an autocrat, and he and our teacher (a very strong-willed, independent woman) really butt heads. For example, he doesn’t like the fact that 1) He was not consulted about our host families before we arrived ("it’s none of his business" says our teacher accurately, as he has no association with the Peace Corps ), and 2) We are all staying with Moldovan’s for our host families, whom he doesn’t trust (he is Ukranian and our teacher in Moldovan herself - I’ll let you think of how his statement went over). Also, at our school there is a severe lack of teachers because he doesn’t want to ‘rock the boat’ - he likes the status quo now, no matter how odd things are. As an example, at his school English is taught but there is no English teacher. Doesn’t make sense? How does that work? We’ll, from what I understand the students basically teach themselves out of the text’s and a teacher will facilitate any exams. However, the teacher doesn’t know English. So you can imagine of how well English is taught around here.

- When I’m not studying Russian or writing entries for this thing, I’m reading. I’ve read two books in the last seven days and I’m about a third of the way through another. From what I hear from others, they are reading as much, a result of the fact that people can only study so much language in any given day. So to pass the extra time without the joys of ESPN or the internet, we read, between two and five hours a day. I’m keeping track of the books that I go through while I’m here so I can look back later in life and reminisce on these days.

- It’s great to have my future site all picked out (as I wrote about in the last entry). While all the others were stressing out for a week thinking of where they want to be placed, the Russian trainees were sitting back and grinning (and the others will won’t know for another week where the PC has placed them: they just choose preferences for now). I can’t wait for next weekend when we all will visit our future sights. We are traveling there as individuals, without too much guidance from the Peace Corps, so if we have any trouble it will be a good test of our language skills. Also, one thing I really like about my future home is that there is a large and well-known monastery in the village. I firmly believe (and have seen evidence in places like my second home in Dedenovo, Russia) that having an active monastery or convent in an area really brings something special to the local community, really imbues the people with a unique sense about them. It will be interesting to get there and see if it holds true in this case - I have a feeling it will.

- Fourth of July party Saturday afternoon in Chisinau, sponsored by the American Chamber of Commerce.
Should be a good time. All the trainees are praying that they will serve food like hamburgers, cheeseburgers, potato salad, and barbeque with sauce. That’s all we ask - is that too much?

- We were warned last week that this, our fourth week of training, is a difficult one. We’ve had our noses to the grindstone for a while now and this is when people really start to feel tired again after getting over jet-lag. The language starts to become a mess in the mind, and words that we’ve known for weeks we now have trouble remembering. All this has happened to me, but I take comfort in the fact that come July 1st or so, things will inevitable get better.

- I’ve had it explained to me a dozen times but still I don’t understand: why do people in this part of the world not smile in pictures? It’s remarkable, something to behold, how people will be sitting around having a great time, laughing and smiling until it’s time for a picture. Then the smile disappears, only to re-emerge the second the picture is over. People are clearly happy and joyful and full of life, and yet they refuse to show it in pictures. And I’ll never know why. I have a feeling I’ll get a reputation around my family as a ‘grinning’ American because while I try to culturally assimilate as best as I can, I draw the line at not smiling for pictures.

- Finally, I’ll end with this. Something I’ve been fascinated in since my first trip to Russia is the mentality of people living in the former Soviet Union. It was a government that provided much to citizens, and yet fifteen years after the collapse of that government, people still behave in some ways like it’s still here. That is why, for example, people litter as often as they do - because in former times there was always someone there to clean it up. Our Country Director gave us another example - go outside most apartments around here (Eastern Europe) and you’ll see trash piled up, paint peeling off, dirt everywhere. Go inside a stairwell and the smell can make your eyes water, the lights are broken, and mud is stomped. Yet step one foot inside any door and you will find an immaculate setting where a speck of dirt is considered unacceptable. Why is this? Because inside their own walls, where people control their own things, they do so with great care. But outside their walls, a mess is still a problem for "someone else." That’s one of the great challenges of the Peace Corps here, to get people to see things that aren’t their own, such as a park or forest, as "our" things, not as the things of "someone else." That is the real challenge into transforming the mentality of this society into something that will allow for a prosperous future.

Let Me Give You a Little Bit of a Scenario Of What My Life Is All About

Yes, the title is a Matt Foley quote, so you’re an astute reader and it sounds familiar, now you know why. I just discovered all these great skits on my computer last weekend, a nice revelation to have. The greats are all here in Moldova: Matt Foley, Blue Oyster Cult, two Harry Caray’s, Bathroom Monkey, Schmidt’s Gay, Philip the Hyper-Hypo . . .

But the title has it merits - I figured I’d give you a rundown of what exactly me (and the other volunteers) do in a week.

Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday consist of language training in the morning, 8:30 to either 1:00 (M,W,F) or 11:00 (Saturdays). Afternoons on those days are basically free, but we have a lot of work to do in areas other than language, like preparing maps of our villages, practicing our new language with our families, or preparing either individual or long-term lesson plans for the teacher training that we undergo once a week.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are ‘Hub Days," when we all meet in Orhei, long days that usually see me leave the house around 7:00 in the morning and returning around 5:30 in the evening. Tuesday mornings consist of a speaker (this week was our Country Director and a Foreign Service Officer) on issues "Moldovan," and about 11:15 we break up into two groups, those of us who are TEFL teachers and those of use who are Health Education (HE) teachers. We are in these groups until 5:00 in the evening, with an hour break at some point for lunch (which we usually spend half of walking the local farmers market, practicing the language amongst the vendors). These lessons are actually very beneficial for someone like myself, with little teaching experience. We do a lot of talking about lessons, what to teach and how to teach it, and how to incorporate the national curriculum into our everyday work, and we learn certain hurdles of teaching in Moldova that you don’t find in America (every year in the fall schools can close because kids need to go into the fields and pick apples, giving teachers one less week with which to teach the material). We also do work involving "community integration," which doesn’t sound like much at the beginning but which is very important to our long-term success as volunteers (especially once we get to our permanent sites). These sessions are also nice because they are facilitated by current volunteers who have a year under their belts, which instantly makes them easier to be engaged with.

Thursdays mornings are all about health: we get needed shots (like Typhoid and Rabies) and get a three hour presentation on a cheery topic like "Diarrhea: Food and Water Preparation"(last week) and "Alcohol and Substance Abuse" (this week). After a lunch break, we break up again and go back to more teacher training until 5:00 in the evening.

Saturday afternoons are usually free of anything, and Sundays are almost always totally free. Most host families don’t to much on Sunday, unless you are like mine (more on that later).

That’s the overall schedule for now, although it changes more once the weeks advance and our training winds to a close. Then, the focus will start to shift to our language assessments that I will have on August 14 - a successful test will be the best birthday gift I can imagine.

Getting to Orhei is always interesting, as we all board a "rutiera," the public bus. There is a joke here that couldn’t be any truer: "How many people can fit on a rutiera? One more." Sometimes I get lucky, the bus is not jammed full of people and I can actually move a little. But most days are not like that. And to make matters worse, there is a health myth here that any type of wind causes all types of health ailments: thus, no matter how hot the rustika gets, the windows stay sealed shut. It’s not too bad yet, but we all hear that it can - literally - like a sauna inside them if the weather is right (wrong?).

Tuesday morning was fun on the rutiera. The girl in my Russian-speaking group was forced to stand on the rear entrance stairs in the bus because it was so crowded. At one point the bus stopped, the door opened (which it does sometimes for no apparent reason, as no one either gets on or off the thing), and a man started loudly talking (not exactly yelling) at our girl on the stairs. After a second, our teacher turned to the girl and said "Elizabeth, they want to get off the bus," which immediately drew a collective sigh of "aaaaaahhhhhhh" from six or so people in the back, all of whom realized at the same moment why the strange girl didn’t respond to them. It was as if several light bulbs went off at the same time. Very entertaining.

A note on my family. I wrote earlier how I have a host brother who speaks English - well, turns out he’s home just on weekends, as he studies in Chisinau in the week in a school that trains police. So Monday through Friday it’s just my host parents and I. However, my host father does little more than work and sleep, which sounds bad until you realize that he sleeps so often because he works amazingly hard. He’s a farmer, which puts him in the field around 4:00 every morning. He usually doesn’t return home until 7 or 8:00 at night. On weekends he sleeps in, all the way until 6:00 in the morning. He works on the fields on some Sundays until the early afternoon, and on Saturdays he does work around the house. Believe me, he needs to sleep as much as he does.

One quick story: on Wednesday of this week the entire group of trainees (still 37 - no one has quit yet) got together in the forest outside the city Orhei for "team-building" exercises. The exercises themselves were ok, basically the stuff you do with eight-year olds at summer camp. But throughout the day the clouds kept moving in, thicker and thicker, and the thunder with it; after a few hours, just as we were about to eat dinner, the rain came. And it came hard, the type where you can hear it before you can see it, like a wave coming from the sky. There were about fifty-five of us in the forest (including staff), and we quickly moved all the food into cars that proceeded to a restaurant. We all started walking through the downpour (and literally, it was like someone had turned on a shower) to the restaurant, and along the way a bus or van would come and pick up a herd of people. There were about ten of us, though, who hiked the whole way through the rain, fifteen minutes through streets and parks, along field and a lake. It was simultaneously torturous and tremendous, picturesque in a way, this group of people who were strangers seventeen days ago now strolling through a storm in an old town thirty miles north of the capital of Moldova. At one point we were walking up a hill and the water was pouring down the street so fast that it almost looked like a flash flood. - we felt like salmon jumping up a stream. Amazing. The Peace Corps is all about experiences, and this was certainly an experience I will never forget.

And I think I finally know where exactly I will spend my full two years of Peace Corps service: in a small town of 2878 called Hirjauca in the region Calarasi which is about fifty miles north-west of Chisinau and should be found some maps (Calarasi, not Hirjauca). While nothing is official until next week, it shouldn’t be a problem to get this sight because there are only three Russian speaking trainees and only three places for us to go - we’re all set on our places. I was hoping for a place close to the breakaway region of Transnestria, but alas, there were no options there, so I got the closest one to Chisinau. In two weeks I will go there to take a visit and to scout out potential host-families, of which I will visit three and decided with whom I want to spend at least the next six months (the minimum, via Peace Corps policy) and more likely, the next two years. I’m excited to go . . . .

And I will end by just saying this: I love the other thirty-six volunteers. They’re all amazing, all easy to talk with, all kind people: Simply put, I couldn’t be happier with the people I serve with. We’re like a family.

Location, Location

Perhaps the biggest perk of Peace Corps service is the amount of travel volunteers are allowed to have. We accrue two days of vacation for every one month of service - thus, we earn forty eight days total. The PC realizes that we will accrue this time eventually - thus, you can take vacation days before you actually earn them, limited only by the fact that you can take forty eight days in the two years. There are a few regulations on when you can travel (as teachers, we naturally have to travel on school breaks), and as of now there are no regulations on where we can visit. Also, as an added plus every month the PC puts twenty five dollars into a special account that we can use to travel with. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

As of now my biggest question is where to travel to. I know that I’m going to Ukraine and Russia next summer when my parents come and visit - now, how to spend the other thirty or so days of vacation that I get? My initial instinct is to take off this Christmas and head to a place like Prague, although if it’s cold enough I might reconsider (and all bets are off if my opera singer friend Michael Fabiano sings anywhere in Europe in the next two years - he jumps to the top of my list). I’m also thinking of visiting either Turkey or Egypt, both places that are very accommodating to Russian tourists (being a Russian speaker, I should have no problems): maybe I will a take a trip there next spring, a Spring Break of sorts. This is all speculation for now (except for the Ukraine/Russia trip), but it’s fun to think about. At the very least, the other Russian speaking trainee and I have already decided upon a weekend trip to Odessa sometime in the spring. Take off on a Friday afternoon, come back on Sunday night - promises to be a good time.

As for my permanent location in Moldova, the place where I’ll spend the next two years as a teacher, I will find that in a month or so. Ideally I will be in the east part of the country, near the Ukranian border, in the southeast too so I can be near Odessa. My chances of getting this placement are ok - the Russian posts are either in the south or in the east, and one of the other two Russian speakers really wants to be placed in the south. In places there some people speak a language called Gagazuk (or something like that), which is basically an odd combination of Russian and Turkish. Being a linguist and a student of Turkish, she would love to be placed there. In a few weeks all the trainees will travel to potential sights, and then we can see which ones we prefer. As Russian speakers my options will be somewhat limited (fewer school in fewer places request us), but I’m still crossing my fingers that I can get a good location.

Speaking of being a student of Russian, things are going fine with the language training. As with anything, some days are better than others, but it seems like every time I get frustrated or think that I don’t grasp what I’m studying, I go to class the next day and realize that I know exactly what I’m expected to, that I’m just a little hard on myself. Part of the problem for me is that a girl I’m with is a whiz, picking things up instantly (she’s picking up a little Romanian on the side), and my competitive instinct makes me crazy that she’s better - really, I get bothered. I just have to keep reminding myself that, as our group of trainees is constantly told, everyone will eventually learn the language. Some people will just learn faster than others, but in the end, as long as we put in the necessary work, we’ll learn everything we need to.

Also, our teacher has a good style in which she gives us a lot of information one day, relying on us to study it in the evening, then we all review it in the first half of the next lesson before starting the new information. Actually, on Thursday I had an hour long talk with my host mother about our respective families. She is great to talk to, quick to correct my pronunciation and my grammar slips. In a way I’m surprised by how much I’ve learned in only a week, and I should be fine if I continue to progress at my current rate. The grammar can be tricky (if you say "he is a doctor," "he is 34 years old," and "he has a dog," you use three different forms of "he"), but living with a family and practicing the language helps advance skills at a rapid rate. Also , every day I watch Russian TV for an hour or so, and every few days I realize that my comprehension level has increased. It’s a good feeling to have. Also, I’ve learned that my host family has housed a PC trainee before and that, according to them, my language skills are (after one week) far superior to the previous trainee. A confidence-boosting compliment, to say the least. On Saturday night my family and I went to a little get-together with our cousins who live here, and I could understand a lot. When I realized how much I could understand on Saturday night - compared to how much I could understand last Saturday night - it was a great revelation to have.

I’m sure everyone will be sad about this, but alas, the pig slaughter is postponed for another week. It was supposed to happen Friday, but a typhoon happened instead. So the pig lives for another week. Actually, the other two trainees in my village - as well as my teacher - were all invited to the event. Too bad we have to wait another week . . . .

And finally, if you are interested in my address here to (maybe ;-)) send some things, I can be found at:
Andy Buchanan - PCT
Peace Corps Moldova
#12 Grigore Ureche Street
2001, Chisinau, Moldova

Things on my wish list include:
1) A battery for my laptop (Dell Inspiron B130: my current battery lasts only an hour or two),
2) Any music (with a song list included, ideally),
3) An electric toothbrush (yes, I have a converter),
4) Movies and TV shows on DVD (like The Office, American Version, seasons 1 and 2, Seinfeld, every season except 1-3 and 6,
5) The Lonely Planet Russian language book - a language guide printed by Lonely Planet that is great - should be easily found in most bookstores.
6) A book of stamps and envelopes. The stamps can be for America too - every month or so someone from the PC office here travels to America. When they do, they take along with them letters that volunteers have written to family and friends at home: the courier simply drops the stamped envelopes in the nearest mailbox they see on their arrival in the USA.

Of course anything is appreciated, but that’s an abbreviated list. If the mood should strike you and you ship me a package, be sure to send it as safe as possible. Have it as registered and sealed as is allowed - it will cost a little more and may take some time to get here, but it greatly enhances the chances of the parcel actually arriving at it’s final destination. Put something with my name on it inside the box too, as sometimes the name of the addressee is unreadable upon arrival. And feel free to remove anything from it’s original packaging - that will save you space (and money), and it will be better for me too, as my space is limited; plus, I doubt I’ll be able to return/exchange anything in it’s original packaging ;-). Thank you, in advance.

An Educational Experience

Things I’ve learned since I’ve been here:

1) How chicken jello tastes: about as you’d imagine. Last Thursday I went out with some other new volunteers and a few veterans. Steph Pulas, my mentor, told us rookies that she has never had a problem with any Molodovan food item save one dish: basically, she described it as chicken and jello in some odd conglomeration. Well, as I learned on Sunday afternoon, no more description is needed. Picture cooked chicken together with some kind of gelatin mass. It looks a lot like it sounds - basically chicken on top of (and mixed in with) brown gelatin. On Sunday my host family had six other relatives for dinner to celebrate the feast of The Holy Trinity. Part of the feast was the aforementioned chicken gelatin. A family member started to scoop some onto my plate and I when I saw what he was doing I told I him I wanted "RJHX-RJHX" - a little bit. Two large spoonful’s later, I was done. Actually, it wasn’t too bad. The gelatin tasted like nothing really, and the chicken tasted like chicken. Once I was past the texture, it was fine to eat. My host family was impressed, actually: everyone stopped to watch me eat.

2) How to drink a lot of wine and a little cognac from 10:00 in the morning to 10:00 in the evening and not really feel the alcohol, as long as three steps are taken: 1) A lot of food is eaten while the drinking is happening, 2) One takes long breaks between stretches of drinking, and 3) One emphasizes the wine and goes easy on the cognac.

3) How dinner looks when it’s young. Baby chickens - new chicks - are really cute. My family here just received a new shipment of fifteen or so chicks in a box, and they are adorable. We feed them cornmeal and put a lightbulb in a jar and turn it on so they have something warm to cuddle up with at night. They’re so tiny . . . there is also one that I really like, the only one who doesn’t start to cry when I pick him up. Too bad they’re dinner soon.

4) How a large group of Moldovans, who are in various stages of drunkenness, love American guests. Also on Sunday was a large celebration, the "day of the town," as it is called. My group went there along with our teacher that evening, along with John and Clara (two Peace Corps volunteers who trained here five years ago and were back for a visit). Soon after we all arrived the mayor invited us to the front of the stage (this is at 11:30 in the evening, in the center of town, in front of a few hundred Moldovans ), where he invited each of us to say a few words in Russian. I just said "Ya lublou Ivansha": I love Ivansha. After we were presented the mayor gave out awards to people in the village in categories such as "Best Well," and "Best Yard." Good times. After we were presented we statyed and danced for a while, basically some people holding hands and walking around in a circle - if you are really lucky and your circle is big enough, couples will dance with each other while the circle is moving outside of them.

5) How to teach (at least, an intro). My biggest fear before I came was my ability to handle a classroom full of students - however, the Peace Corps has me and the other TEFL volunteers covered. We will spend about seventy hours over the next ten weeks learning how to teach English here.

6) How to be a fair-weather fan in another sport. USA soccer is killing me. I’m watching them play the Czech Republic as I write this and it’s getting depressing here. Hopefully their outcome will be more like 2002 (or even 1994) than the debacle in 1998. We need a miracle to advance past the first round.

7) How when your host family speaks half Russian and half Romanian, it’s tough to follow, especially when you don’t know enough of either language to realize fully what is being spoken.

8) How to have a great day. On Tuesday, June 13, the morning began with language training. It was about 4.5 hours, intense but not too bad, the perfect amount. The first half was a study of the vocabulary of the family - a nightmare. Did you know that in Russian, they have a different word for "brother-in-law" and "sister-in-law", depending on if the aforementioned "in-law" is the of husband or wife? Sounds confusing, huh? And the two words are not even close together, seemingly unrelated. The second half was about possession, possessive pronouns, and how they have to relate to gender. It was a hard lesson but just the right level of difficulty - not too bad. For lunch I went home and my host mother and I actually had a conversation, in Russian. Real information was spread about or families. It was great, actually - and the food was as good as the talk, with my mother making a dish that involved some beef stew poured over macaroni. I told her that it was great, that it was delicious, and the I love it - all in Russian. Then, in the afternoon, the other Russian speakers and I (as well as our teacher) went, per invitation, with the mayor of our village to pick and eat sweet cherries in an orchard near our school. Trust me, they taste as good as they sound. After an hour in the orchard, we went with the mayor and the local chief of police to an old resort, a place in the forest the Soviet’s built years ago to serve as a school for kids with TB (it’s closed now). We sat around, seven of us, drank a little vodka and beer, ate some food, and played cards, in a gazebo on the grounds of this old school in the picturesque forest. Jealous yet? And the day ended with my host mother and I studying Russian - me speaking the words and her correcting my pronunciation, while she also would ask what certain words were in English. Good times all around.

Things I will soon learn:

1) How to slaughter a pig. That’s right - I’m excited about this development. My teacher came over with John and Clara on Sunday evening to pick me up for an event, but they had to sit down for some food before my host mother allowed them to leave. While here, my host father informed me (through the teacher) that he will slaughter a pig some time this weekend with my host brother and wanted to know if I wanted to help. Yes I do. I’ll keep you posted on the developments of this - maybe I’ll take some pictures for you to see. But I can’t wait.

2) How to carve a whole chicken. And I mean whole chicken, innards still intact. My host mother had just taken the head off one the other day when I (through her patience and the help of a dictionary) asked her if she wanted help. It was late at night so she said ‘no,’ and my language skills are such that I wasn’t sure how tell her that I really want to know how she does it. However, I had my teacher tell here that I really love to cook and want to learn new techniques and for my host mother to ask me for help with anything, even just slicing. I’ve seen a chicken sliced up into six parts before, but I’ve never seen that and everything taken out too. I’m excited about this also, but not as excited as I am about the pig slaughter.

3)How to conjugate verbs. Yesterday my teacher gave me the priceless 501 Russian Verbs book, compete with full conjugations of every one. Now my vocabulary and conversational skills can finally grow, and my teacher told me and the others that by the end of this week we should getting more and more skills to actually hold conversations. That will be huge.

4) How the Romans in Moldova once lived. I wrote earlier that my training village is near a town called Orhei - well, a few kilometers from here is a place called Old Orhei, originally built (if you can believe it) by the Romans over 2000 years ago. Today, it is a tourist hub, as there are many remnants of the Romans, including parts of bathhouses and several caves where they used to live. My teacher told us that sometime soon we can go on a tour there, which should be great. In fact, when she told us about these ruins it made something clear to me - about once a day I see a large bus full of people driving down the (only) main road here. I always wondered where they are going to - now I know, as they are headed to and from the aforementioned Roman ruins.

5) How the cost of gas impacts people in poorer nations. Gas here is about 13 lei per liter, equaling about 3.80$ per gallon. You can imagine the impact for a people whose average income is around 100 dollars a month. That would be like a person in America who makes 1,500 a month (after taxes) paying 47 dollars for a gallon of gas. Think that would curb consumption? In fact, there is even once Peace Corps farm here where they are no longer using six hectares of land because they can’t afford the gas it would take to cultivate it. And this is from a place which, a year or two ago, was expanding so fast that was negotiation with neighbors to see if they would ‘borrow’ land. Now, they actually lose money if they use the land.

A Chosen One

I write now from the home of my host family in a village called Ivansha, about twenty five miles north of Chisinau and about five miles south of the city Orhei, where I will have "hub" training for the next few months (more on that later). Needless to say, it’s been an interesting few days since you last heard from me.
Before our group left Philadelphia, we had to pick four Official Leaders who would be responsible for everyone getting from JFK to Istanbul to Chisinau without a hitch. Naturally, I volunteered, because I thought that if I hadn’t I would just have ended up getting frustrated with whoever was in charge, thinking that I could have done a better job. Three others made the same decision. Overall it was a good choice, with a few exceptions, like the soon-to-be mentioned drama at the Istanbul airport and the fact that some people have ‘have traveled alone often with no trouble" (like me) yet were not unwilling to step-up and be a leader, and they were frustrated by the fact that were traveling in a group and by the fact that different rules apply to group travel (unlike me).

As I alluded to, we had no real problems until we arrived in Istanbul. The Peace Corps (PC) arraigned for us to have ‘day rooms’ in a hotel connected to the airport so that for our six hour layover we would be able to sleep, shower, and relax before flying to our final destination without ever leaving the confines of the airport (standard PC policy for any layover more than six hours). However, we were all confused about how to deal with Passport Control at the airport, because while it seemed to us that we needed a transit visa - even though we weren’t leaving the airport or even through security - to leave, we all were without. In fact, we (combinations of the four group leaders) even talked to four or five people in the airport, all of whom said that we needed a transit visa but that one could easily be had by simply paying twenty dollars at the official visa window there (most of us didn’t have twenty dollars). We even attempted to call the Peace Corps: Moldova staff to talk to someone but we couldn’t figure out the phone. (And in the midst off this confusion for us leaders, a group member informed us that he had forgotten his ticket for our Istanbul to Chisinau flight on the previous plane and that plane on which he lost it was now inaccessible and that he could see the trash being taken off it - fun). Finally though, out of dumb luck, we learned that we simply needed to check in for our final flight, show the boarding passes to a guard at a special gate, and that after that we would be allowed to exit to the hotel without a problem (and after thirty minutes of alternating confusingly between Turkish Air and Delta desks, trying to explain the problem and figure out who could fix it, the group member found his lost ticket after all). It seems to me that the people we talked to about the visa issue simply wanted some money, and this is evidenced by the fact that one group member even paid for and received a visa but was refunded - without question - when we learned that it was unnecessary. That type of refund never happens unless the something funny is going on. It was also odd because the PC gave money to cover any potential expense - and any real - expense, like hotel rooms, that we might incur, and yet we never had a mention of these visas.

We all checked into and out or hour hotel rooms (paid for by the PC) without an issue and had equally little trouble on our one hour flight from Turkey to Moldova. At the airport we were instantly greeted by PC staff after customs, and even after leaving baggage claim into the terminal we were greeted by about twenty PC volunteers who are here now, having served for a year already (They were Us last year): they were holding signs of welcome. We also were met by some Moldovan television channel - only one on us (sadly, not me) was unfortunate enough to get cornered into having to give an interview. Together, the volunteers old and new as well as the staff all boarded busses and headed to the hotel, where we were met by thirty or so other volunteers and staff members who gave us rookies a round of applause when we exited the busses. After that followed a brief meeting in which I learned that I get to study Russian (more on that in a sec) as well as some other information, and only then did we finally get a chance to rest - some of the new people went out with some veterans to ask questions and get some information from people who do now what we will do soon.
The following day, June 8, we had mostly meetings. The morning meetings were composed of safety and health issues, potential problems and their solutions: included was a talk by the Head of Security for the United States Department of State in Moldova - the chief security officer fo the US Embassy here. He just told us to basically be smart and report instantly anything that happens to us, either big or small, while also telling us that Moldova was as safe of a place as anywhere in the world that the PC has volunteers. Then we had a talk from a nurse, who told us to follow basic health rules for now (distill all water, take good care of yourself because little things can escalate quickly in a place like this, info like that) and also told us about our medical kids that we received later in the day (The lesson here: if you read this and worry about my safety or health, stop. It’s really a non-issue now, as we are all in great hands because the PC realizes that an unsafe or unhealthy volunteer are worthless to the organization). The day ended with an afternoon of language sessions - just basic conversational stuff to use with our families. The good news is that for me it’s all review, while the bad news is that about 70% of my knowledge of the language has already been taught to us. There goes my ‘advantage’ over the others.

The next morning began with a walk through Chisinau to a school, where we started with an introduction to the Cross-Cultural Training that we will undergo, followed by more language review, followed by an presentation on what to expect from our host families throughout our stay as well as what our families were likely to expect of us. We halted about 12:45 and on our way home some of us stopped to buy flowers as a gift: 50 lei (the Moldovan currency:13:20 lei to 1.00 dollar). Our total was about 4.00 dollars for five long-stemmed roses in a bouquet.

Finally, yesterday (Friday the 9th) early evening, we all met with our host families - there was a large ‘meet and greet’ in the airport with all the volunteers and all their families. Only my host mother was present at the hotel to meet me, and after a brief introduction on how and why to use our PC-sponsored water distillers and purifiers, I drove up to Ivansha with my host mother as well as another volunteer who is living in the same village along with her host mother. Actually, that is where I write from now - it’s totally beautiful. I have my own (large) room, there’s indoor plumbing, and they have chickens, a dog, a goat, maybe a cow (not sure yet - don’t ask me how that’s possible), as well as several apple trees and even a few cherry trees, one of which I’ve already climbed into and tasted the fruits of: they also smoke their own homemade sausage in a homemade smoker - basically a fire pit with a small tube connected to a large smoker. Simple but effective. The family is very kind - there is a mother and father as well as a brother (Leonid is the brother, I forget the names of the parents). The brother is twenty-two also, with a birthday of September 15 (just like my brother in Iowa), and he speaks English fairly well. While it is nice for now, I get the feeling that he is excited for me to learn Russian and for the day that he doesn’t have to translate anything for me. When I arrived here I was sort of expecting a big party of celebration - instead, I just ate alone in the kitchen food prepared by my mom. The host father was not even here yet. However, later I learned that the big party, with family and friends from the village, will be tonight - I’m looking forward to it. I also learned that the other two volunteers in my village had rather tepid greetings too, for the primary reason that all of our host families were warned by my teacher that we were all very tired and to not expect too much from us.

Random Thoughs:
1)I WAS CHOSEN FOR RUSSIAN!. I’m pumped, to say the least. Of the group there are fifteen of us who are in the Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) program, and only three of us learn Russian - it was a highly competitive process and I’m blessed to have been chosen, really. The other two are very bright people: Aaron, who is fluent in Spanish and who taught it at the University of New Hampshire, and Elizabeth, who is fluent in Japanese, adequate in Turkish as well as Arabic, and who retains new Russian words at an amazing rate. From what I understand (and have seen in my first few days), it’s a huge advantage here to know Russian, as with this language I can talk to anyone at anytime, where with only Romanian it can often get frustrating, especially in place like government centers, where people can understand and speak Romanian but simply refuse to for political/social reasons - that’s all information from people who have been here for a year or so. The training for it is very intense - actually, all my training for the next ten weeks will be intense (literally, every hour from 8:00AM to 6:00PM, Monday through Friday and some Saturdays, from now to August 17, is mapped out for all volunteers). I will study Russian mostly every day with my instructor and the other two in a small classroom and with my host family when I get home, a very intimate study style which should allow me to advance at a rapid pace. Indeed, the Peace Corps model of language training is recognized many government agencies throughout the world as being an ideal way to teach and learn any language. Also, as a Russian speaker, to pass my language test on August 16 I need to score a minimum of Intermediate-Low (my instructor is so good that she has never had anyone not pass), while Romanian speakers need to get a minimum of Intermediate-High: the Peace Corps realizes that Russian is that much harder to learn. So far, studies are going well. Every day we get a little homework to complete for the next day - so far, it has taken only a half hour or so. But when I get home and finish homework, I copy down every language structure chart in the textbook to my notebook and try to memorize it, and also write in my notebook every word throughout the day that I’ve had to look up in the dictionary, forcing myself to remember them by the end of the day. With time, the amount that I have to look up should be reduce at a rapid pace.

2) What is interesting here is that those who speak primarily Russian can be considered as the "have’s" while those who speak Romanian are often the "have not’s." In every bar, every restaurant, any place that all indicates money or prestige, I only hear Russian spoken. People also interchange without problem, even within the same family: my host brother speaks Romanian to his mother but Russian to his father. Odd, but not in a bad way - just interesting.

3) I’ve had the chance to meet Brad and Anna, both of whom are great. However, it is a bit odd to read someone’s blog and know many things about them without ever having met them. They would begin to tell me stories or facts and I would have to temper my gut instinct to stop them because I’ve already read everything they say. Believe me, it feels odd.

4) People are often quick to comment that for PC service, volunteers ‘don’t get paid anything.’ However, it doesn’t take long to realize that the financial commitment made to us goes far beyond anything concrete but is still substantial. As some of us were discussing one morning, look no farther than language training as an example. Middlebury College, for one, has what is regarded as a top summer language program, with the participant being fully immersed (albeit, in Vermont) and with most becoming proficient in their language of study, no matter what knowledge was held before entrance. Students there pay as much as 6,000 - 8,000 dollars for the six week program. Our program is far more substantial, far more thorough, far longer, we are actually living in a foreign nation and living in the language, and our instructors (with a ratio of four students to one instructor) are top notch. Total cost? Nothing. So to say that we don’t get paid much really is a misnomer.

5) My host family actually has internet access through their home. For Moldovan’s it’s expensive, about 45 cents an hour, although it’s cheap for volunteers. To give you an idea of money here, my host brother told me today that the average wage here is 100 dollars a month - my host mother makes 150 dollars a month teaching cooking. As a PC volunteer, I make 200 dollars a month, which actually puts me in the ‘upper-middle’ class. Indeed, some volunteers here are actually able to save as much as 100 dollars a month to use once they get back to the States.

6) An explanation on how training works. The entire group of us who came to Moldova (M18) are now split up into six different groups throughout the next ten weeks of training - the group you are assigned to is who you study language with, and each group is assigned to a small village within five miles of Orhei, the regional capital (for me, it is just the Russian speakers who are together - three of us in the village). All groups have language training with our instructors in school buildings within the villages we are assigned to (I hope that makes sense) - even the instructors live with a host family throughout our ten weeks of training. However, twice a week all M18 members travel to the Orhei, to a "hub site" there, for Cross-Cultural training and to receive more shots (rabies vaccines - don’t worry, they made sure we were all caught up on other shots. I only needed Hepatitis B while others needed as many as three more, although the blood drawn from each of us will determine what immunities we all have/need. Told you our health was of primary concern . . .). From what I understand, we are very luck to have Orhei as our center - it’s one of the few tourist ‘hot spots’ in the country because of it’s beauty. It’s in a bit of a valley, surrounded by rolling hills - the view on the drive in is really breath-taking. If I’m so lucky as to have any of you as visitors, I will do my best to show the place to you. And also, if you are so inclined to look, Orhei should be found on a map of Moldova, just north of Chisinau.

It’s been about a week since my last post - that number should be typical, although it may go up or down depending on where I’m place for permanent assignment - I’m only in Ivansha and Orhei through training, after which I move on to another location.

I hope all is well in the States - things are glowing here in Moldova. In a way it’s surreal to be here because this is a place I’ve thought of so much for the last six months. Sometimes, it
s as though I can’t believe I’m here, although from what I’ve heard from other’s, in twenty-six months I will remark that I can’t believe that I’m already gone . . . .

Safe and Sound in the City of Brotherly Love

First, let me thank everyone for coming to my going-away open house on Saturday. It was great to see you all again for one last time. And if you were unable to attend . . . . Don't worry. Maybe you can just plan a trip to Moldova to make up for it ;-).

Now I'm in Philadelphia, at my friend Michael Fabiano's house. I arrived today at 2:00 in the afternoon, after an hour delay in Chicago. There, I met up with Claudia and Jacob, two other volunteers - one is from Omaha, the other from Rockford, IL.

And after landing, we had to wait 30 minutes for a van to come and pick us up and bring us to the hotel, which was tight too because training started at 3:00. When the van pulled up there were actually two other volunteers who had just come in from Kansas City were aboard. Introductions basically took up the whole trip, so after we were all dropped off the five of us scrambled to check in and get together with the group.

We then spent the next four hours in training - nothing too special. Just about expectations and concerns and what not. Overall, the group is very interesting, from a wide geographic base and with different backgrounds. There are only three volunteers who are older than thirty or so and there are two married couples, although both are in their early twenties. Tomorrow we've got more training all day, starting at 8:30 AM. And on my lunch break I have to run to a Kinkos to print out loan deferment documents that I forgot at home . . . Should be fun. But of course, if I don't get those in, then I'm not going anywhere. So wish me luck.