Who Knows What the Future Brings?

At my school right now we are in a bit of a transition. In the Moldovan school system there are three types of school, one called a gymnasium that goes up to grades 8 or 9, one called a school up to grades 10 or 11, and the final called a lyceum, the most academically prestigious, that goes up to grades 12. Where I work now is a school going up to grade 11.

When I first arrived in August, at the first teachers meeting, it was brought to me and my fellow teachers that our school would no longer be a 'school' after this year, that there is not enough students (and money) for us to maintain our current status and that we would likely become a gymnasium next year, meaning that I wouldn't get a chance to work with my favorite 10th graders again and that it would be a general disaster for the community in general. The problem, as I've written before, is that if we become a gymnasium all the students after 9th grade would have to go to Chisinau to live and study, away from their parents and family and community that have been with these kids all their lives. As my host mom said, it's a hugely important in the development of these kid's lives, and to be away from home after the age of 14 is just about the worst thing that could possible happen. In short, it's a disaster.

It's also a disaster because the village two kilometers to the east and three kilometers to the west also have gymnasiums, small ones with fewer than a hundred kids each and going up to only 8th grade. As my host mom and I agree, the absolutely best solution for everyone would be to close the other schools in the area and turn our school into a lyceum, absorbing teachers from the other schools to fill in the gap in teachers that would come with the influx of kids. The families in the other villages might not like the situation because they would have to pay to transport their kids to this village, but has my host mom says, transportation would cost maybe 500 lei a year (about 38 dollars), while a year in Chisinau would cost around 20,000 lei (about 1538 dollars a year). Money is perhaps the other huge reason why it's a disaster for the school to close, because it's basically giving these families (about 97 percent of which are on a very income) this massive, seemingly unavoidable expense. Yet despite the fact that we all seemed regulated to the fact that the future of our school was not good, in recent weeks we've learned that there is a chance that we could become a lyceum if enough teachers agree and the community wants one. The community seems fully behind the idea, but much to my shock, the a fair amount of the teachers are totally against the future becoming a lyceum.

The reason? Scrutiny.

As a lyceum, because it's more academically challenging, us teachers would be under far more scrutiny that we are now, meaning that many teachers would be forced to do more work to prepare lessons and things like that and and would, in general, have more of a presence watching over their shoulders, something that (much to my frustration), many teachers are totally against, to the point that they prefer the school become simply a gymnasium to say their-selves the extra work. It's not that I'm really in a position to complain or strongly voice my opinion, as all these teachers have been in the school for more years combined than I have days (no joke). If asked my opinion I give it, but so far only my host mom has asked me what I think. We should know the future of the school in a little while, but until then it's just a matter of waiting and and hoping.
Notes:
- You know what the Russian title of There's Something About Mary is? Without Wisdom About Mary. I saw this about ten seconds ago while I was writing and thought it needed to be retold.
- Last Saturday I did something I thought I would never do in the village – I went to the local disco with a few of my students. No, the world didn't end, and it actually turned out to be a good time for everyone.

I told a few girls I work with a while ago that I would go with them eventually to the disco, but I tell people here all the time that I will do something I don't want to do, knowing that whoever I tell will just forget – frankly, it's earier than saying 'no'. These kids, however, forgot nothing and instead just kept telling me that the day I wanted to go to the disco with them I just needed to tell them and they would be happy to go along with me. Naturally, I just waited and waited and didn't say anything, but Friday after school, in a momentary moment of weakness, I told them I would, at last, join them for the evening.

But after waking up at 5:10 Saturday morning, taking the 6:00 bus into Chisinau, stomping around the city doing the pictures for my eleventh grade class (which all turned out wonderfully) and returning on another bus at 6:30 at night, I was in no real condition or mood to go – however, being a person of my word I felt I couldn't back out then. So I called a student of mine with whom I was going (per the student's directions), and we agreed to meet at 9:10 at the intersection near my house. Naturally, being exhausted I fell asleep with one of the kittens and awoke at 9:20 to the sound of one of the kids banging on the window outside, waking me and beckoning me from my slumber.

From there we went to the disco, (I really should use quotation marks around the word 'disco' because it's just the village's House of Culture - mayor's office, post-office - and they bring in some speakers on the weekend, some bright lights, and turn it into a disco). To make a long story short, I just spent a good hour and a half or so hanging outside of the building with my older students, drinking home-made wine from a jug and shooting the breeze with them for the whole time. It actually turned out to be a great opportunity to get to know the students outside of the classroom setting, learn about their families and the like, as well as to practice my language. A great time all around.

- This Saturday is Class Reunion Saturday in Moldova – one the first Saturday of February every year those who graduated from a school return to chat with teachers and with each-other, while all the while the current students at a school preform some sort of show(s?). Should be in interesting time for me, as this is my first event.

- The weather here has officially turned nasty. Up to now we've been blessed with temperatures in the 40's and 50's, but on Monday the wind blew like I've never seen before and yesterday the snow started. Now, it's not supposed to break 20 for a few days. I can't complain really because I really like the winter, but as for my family who spends a lot of time working outside . . . a lot of their lives just became a lot tougher.

- I'll end by simply telling that if you've never seen kittens around a vacuum cleaner, it's something to behold. My host mom on Monday night was holding one of ours and told me to hold it while reaching for the vacuum. Thankfully I was holding on tight because when she started up the machine the cat became terrified, trying to scramble from my hands before finally just settling in with it's eyes wide. The other kitten in the other room instantly sprinted under the bed and refused to come out for a while. When the vacuum was finally off I picked up the little one and it spent the next ten minutes with eyes wide and neck craning back and forth, totally terrified.

It was, without a doubt, the highlight of my week (although it is only Wednesday).

Nothing New Here

Because nothing too big has happened in the world of this Peace Corps volunteer, I thought I would instead comment on a lot of little things that have happened in my world recently (or not so recently, things I’ve just forgotten to write):

- I realized this happened a month ago, but I thought you might find thins interesting: in Turkey I had food I haven’t hadn’t had since I left America - I drank milk and ate Doritos (not at the same time), and both were better than I could actually remember. I haven’t had them so far in Moldova because, 1) Doritos aren’t available, and 2) The only milk is fresh from cows or goats and Peace Corps recommends that we don’t drink it unless we’ve seen it being pasteurized, which I haven’t done and as a result, I haven’t drank milk. Also, if a cow has Tuberculosis it is possible to contract the disease from the animal through the milk, which would give anyone pause for concern.

The irony in this is that the milk here is better - from a health standpoint - than any milk bought in a store in America. It’s not filled with antibiotics, growth-hormones, and things like that. Goat milk in particular is really good for the body.

- Traveling with us was a friend of mine’s cousin who works in Japan - he’s the baseball writer for the English version of the Japanese Times. It was odd for us to hear him tell stories of Japan, as from a modernity-standpoint Japan and Moldova couldn’t be any further apart. We told him a lot of stories about life in Moldova but he told us that he didn’t realize fully what kind of world we were living in - how different it was - until he bought Poweraide at a store in Istanbul and one of us asked him when the last time he had seen Poweraide.

Because he lives in Tokyo, if he wants a Poweraide, he has a Poweraide. Indeed, he is likely never more than a five minute walk from a Poweraide - it’s a regular part of his life. We, on the other hand, were in awe of this wonder product that we hadn’t encountered for over half a year. So in asking the question we were giving him the full proper context of the world in which we live.

- Last Sunday marked the six-month anniversary of the death of the father/husband in my host family. My host-mom first told me about this on the Friday before when she told the that I would have to straighten up my room because we would have guests on Sunday: when I asked her why they were coming, she told me about the significance of the day.

On Saturday her and my host sister and host Grandma spent the day cleaning the house and cooking a massive amount of food, and on Sunday they came, about ten people. We sat around, them talking the Ukranian dialect that’s basically a dirty Russian and me sitting with my thoughts, all of us eating and drinking wine. They left about 3:00 in the afternoon, and about three hours later my host sister-in-law’s mom came and we sat around eating again. At one point, in a moment of silence, my host mom looked said quietly, “Already six months . . . the time has flown.” Then her, my host sister-in-law, and her mother then started talking about all the people in the village who have died recently. It was actually a little morbid to hear, so after a half hour or so I left.

Then the next day after school one of the other teachers came over and her and my host mom sat around talking for a while again, telling stories about Kola, the departed husband/father. My host mom told of the time after he learned of this diagnosis he turned to her and said, “you know, I’m dying.” It was totally heartbreaking to hear, to see her tell this story.

- There is a lot of talk among Peace Corps Moldova volunteers who speak Romanian on just how useless the language can be outside of Eastern Europe, on how they won’t be able to use it after their service. However, a few weeks ago a friend of made a good point when he mentioned that, if you think about it, Romanian is just as useful in America as Italian. Really, how often does a person need Italian in America? In a way, Romanian can be more useful because it’s more of a niche language. How many people in the world are fluent in Russian and English? Thousands upon thousands. How many people are fluent in Romanian and English? A lot less, I think it’s safe to say.

- When there is not light outside (street lamps and the light), a person becomes highly conscious of the times of sunrise and sunset. For example, I can tell you that at the end of December, right before I left for vacation, it got dark at 4:30 in the afternoon, almost to the minute. Now? It’s light enough until 5:25 to go to the outside without a flashlight.

- You know how, at the end of a student’s high school career, they get their photograph taken for posterity? Well, guess who was the photographer for this year’s kids? Me. They all know I have a digital camera so last Friday I took all of their pictures, individuals and as a class, and this Saturday I have to go to Chisinau to get them developed at the Kodak shop.

All the kids were present except one, and when I asked where he was they told me that he moved to Italy to live with his mom, who moved there six years ago. She finally saved up enough money to bring her son to live with her.

- Last Friday on Russian State TV was a concert featuring ‘legends’ of some radio station. The ‘legend’ from America? That’s right, the super group Secret Service, who (quoting Bill Simmons) just looked glad to be on TV, collecting a paycheck. Ever hear of Secret Service? Me neither, which stunned my host mom and sister when I told them of my lack of knowledge.

- More on the Ukrainian dialect I write about often: turns out (this will sound crazy), it’s basically a dirty Russian, and old language from the time when Russian and Ukranian were closer than they are now. My Russian teacher from the Peace Corps told me that she understands about 90% of the dialect and only 10 or so percent of Ukranian, also telling me that now it’s mostly Russian with some Moldovan and some other old language that exists only in this context. After my teacher told me that she understands the dialect I started to listen more and, turns out, I understand about half.

- Finally, I’ll end by re-telling something, the highlight of my week up to now (the end of lesson on Wednesday). On Monday I told my fourth graders that my parents were coming here and that if they wanted they could meet them, which caused cheers of joy and caused two kids to turn to each-other and shake hands like they had just finished a round of golf. I started to laugh and when my kids asked me what was so funny I just lied and told them nothing.

All Things Are Not Created Equal

In Peace Corps Moldova there are four types of volunteers - Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL, my speciality), Health Education, Community and Organizational Development (COD), and Agricultural Development (AD). One thing learned in training - and drilled home once we get to our sights and start to work - is simply that all types of volunteer work is not the same.

For example, as TEFL volunteers we are required to be in front of a group of kids, teaching, for a minimum of eighteen hours per week, plus spend a large amount of time preparing for lesson, grading homework, other such things that go into teaching. Other volunteers, on the other hand, have a totally different (i.e. - not-structured) work load. Health volunteers, for example, teach nine hours a week in a classroom and are expected to work with local health officials for another few hours a week, while COD and AD volunteers usually have a far lighter work load, as low at four hours a week at their official place of work. As a result, they are expected to spend a lot of their other time doing things like writing grants, forming coalitions, and the like.

The results are interesting to look at for TEFL volunteers, because while on one hand we TEFL’s work a lot more than others, the results of our work are far less visible to the naked eye. A different type of volunteer can spend twenty hours working on a grant and get the school something like a new gym or new or cafeteria and everyone sees and appreciates the immediate on the community, we have to work far more and, naturally, the results of our work is more internal as it’s very difficult for the village to see that the seventh graders have finally figured how to form the Present Progressive tense of verbs.

On the other hand, for some of these kids to have a chance for a greater future we are giving our kids the one huge tool that can help them the best in their futures - English. So in a way, the instant gratification of other’s work is balanced by the long-term benefits of our work, as good English skills will be far more beneficial for their futures than new chairs in the library.

Notes:
- We’ve had a good first week and a half back at school. The first days were rough for everyone, teachers and students alike, as no-one really wanted to return to school and lessons and were a little down for the first day or so. But in general it was great to get back in the classroom with the kids.

We’ve also started playing basketball with the kids - I have a guy’s team and we start playing games in Chisinau in March. The kids overall skills are . . . ok. There are only eight on the team and they like to shoot the ball by launching it over their heads in mid-stride. But they really like to play, and it’ll be a lot of fun to work with them.

- Last weekend we had two days of language training in Chisinau, and it was great to be back as a group together, talking about vacations, telling stories, and simply being a group. At one point Friday night there were 13 out of 16 people from our group in one room, sitting around chatting: it’s a great indicator of just how tight we are together.

We also all went out Saturday night to celebrate the birthday of a guy in our group, going to three bars, one disco, and arriving back at the hotel at 3:45 in the morning with a 7:45 wake-up call waiting for us, leaving us exhausted but in good spirits. It was also a great weekend to be around our language teacher, who we spent so much time around last summer that it was great to be one group again, the three students and our teacher.

- Finally, you’ll notice that the length of this is shorter than normal - don’t worry, it just that not much new has happened. When the village life gets more interesting, the readers of this will be the first to know.

Pictures from the Trip

The top picture is me in the courtyard of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, the second is the Hagia Sophia, the third is the sunset in Bulgaria on our final night there, the fourth is the old section of Istanbul as photographed across the river, and the final picture is from when we climbed the mountian - we were higher than even the clouds.

A Turkish Wrap

As you may very well know, I arrived in Istanbul on January 23th, spent time in Sophia, Bulgaria for three days before returning to Istanbul the morning of December 31st to celebrate the New Year in style. I could give you a run-down of exactly what we did every day, but I think that would boring for you to read and for me to write. Instead, you’ll get just a general idea of what was done, with an inordinate amount of detail (I’ve got a bit of time on my hands).

We spent the first few days just walking around Istanbul, seeing the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, the Basilica Cistern, and even spending a day on the Asian side of the city. It can be fascinating to walk around the city, hearing the Muslim call to prayer five times daily emanating from the various mosques spattered around the city. Our hostel was literally a five minute walk from the center of things, so it was very convinent to get around. We also learned where the Russian/Eastern European part of the city was (more on that in a second), the Grand Bazaar, the Spice Market, and perhaps the most striking thing we learned was simply that Turkish people are amazing. Their generosity, hospitality, and friendliness are all something to behold.

This was evident from the moment we arrived in Istanbul and had to take the metro to our
hostel where we stayed; not knowing where to transfer, we simply approached a security guard, pointed to our address, and pointed to the various train options we had. He didn’t understand what we meant at first but once he realized our intent he smiled, pointed, and seemed totally happy to help us. And one day a police car pulled up along us and stopped, something that in Chisinau means a hassle of some sorts. However, in Istanbul it meant an opportunity to ask directions (in English) to a bar that was tough to find.

We also spent some time with a man named Atilla, the Turkish business partner (he sells rugs) of the host-mom of a friend with whom I traveled. He picked us up at the airport, gave us a quick run-down of the city, and even had his nephew spend a day with us in the Asian part (the nephew, Vulcann, speaks great English and even has an Australian wife). Atilla’s shop was located only 100 yards from the hostel, and we had an open invitation to drop by. The only problem (a pleasant problem) was that, because of his generosity, any attempt to ‘drop in’ would be at least 15, 20 minutes. The first time we were there he offered up tea and told us it was no problem. When we accepted his offer he opened up a small door that adjoined with a café window, pounded on the window, and yelled something in Turkish, with warm cups of tea arriving a minute later. It was shocking and hilarious to see.

After three days in Istanbul we decided to make a change of location, and the decision came down to Sofia, Bulgaria or Antalya, Turkey (a resort the south that borders the Mediterranean Sea), both locations of which were 12 hours and 25 dollars, one way, on a bus or train. I was really pushing for the south of Turkey but was outdone, so we decided to travel to Sofia. The only catch was that we needed approval from Peace Corps, as they had approved our travel only for Turkey. To solve the situation we wrote the Peace Corps Moldova Country Director and Safety Director, telling them both of our plans and asking them if it was ok for us to venture out. They OK’d our request on the condition that we go to the Peace Corps Office in Bulgaria upon our arrival and register, so on the evening the 27th of December we set out for Bulgaria on a sleeper car. On the train with us were two Peace Corps volunteers from Romania and it was great to spend time talking with them (the lesson learned - all Peace Corps experiences are nTot made equally). The train itself, a sleeper car, was not bad - the nightmare was spending four hours at the three miles bordering Bulgaria and Turkey, waiting and waiting and waiting. As a result, the twelve hour ride quickly became fifteen hours, of which I spelt maybe three hours.

But we arrived in Bulgaria and actually met some PC Volunteers at the train station who were themselves heading to the Peace Corps office and invited them to come with us. We got there and were introduced to the Safety Officer there, who was amazingly generous to us. Not only did he give us basic information on what to do and what not to do, he also answered all of our basic questions. When we asked him how to get to the nearest ATM and to the hostel we had found on the internet, and in explaining it to us he realized that we were likely to never find it on our own and offered to accompany us - we accepted and had a great time talking with him, and it turned out to be a great idea that we was with us because the hostel we found didn’t exist. With him it was simple - he just got on the phone and called another place and led us there. Without him . . . . it would have been very interesting.

Bulgaria was great, overall. We spent one day just walking around the city seeing the old buildings and churches, and one day going to the top of a mountain. Literally. We took a gondola up a while to near the top of a skiing peak, then three of us decided to walk the final 300 meters to the summit. It was an amazing sight from the top (see photos), and we were up so high that we literally up above the clouds and we could feel the thinness of the air as we walked, an odd sensation. The walk up was tough as there was no path and a steep, show-lined, rocky way. It took us 56 minutes to get up but only 13 minutes to get down, because we developed the technique of simply sliding down the mountain on our butts.

We returned to Istanbul again for New Years, arriving on the morning of the 31st. We spent one day walking around the city, celebrated New Years (I slept only six hours that night after spending the four hours between 12:30 AM and 4:30 AM walking around the city with a friend: more on this in a second) , one more day simply buying gifts, and the night of January 1st in the airport (we didn’t want to pay for another night in the hostel) before returning to Moldova on January 2nd, where my family was more than happy to see me. Because I slept only six hours and two hours my last two nights (the 1st and the 2nd, respectively), I slept - no joke - 13 hours my first night back in the village, from 10:30 to 11:30. It was a great ending to a great trip.

Notes on the Journey:
- Language was not an issue at all. First, in Turkey, everyone speaks English. And I mean everyone. Indeed, just walking down the streets in the tourist section it was common to hear people call out in English, inviting a person to stop into their shops or their food stand to shop or eat. And in the Grand Bazaar and Market, people not only speak English but speak it very well, just a part of doing business there. Once I was walking and saw a sign in Spanish- I turned to a girl I was traveling with and asked if it was Spanish, upon which the vendor who I was passing said "Yes, we have Spanish, Chinese, every language in the world." That was odd.

And in Bulgaria we (the other girl in the group and I who speak Russian) simply spoke to people in Russian to get answers to our question. Bulgarian is a Slavic language so a lot is the same, and most of the people over the age of thirty were forced to study Russian in the Soviet Union and at the very least they understand the language. As a result, communication was not much of a problem for us (as for our friends who speak Romanian . . . well, they just had to rely on us or on English). In fact, at our hostel worked in the evenings an older man who didn’t really speak English, just Bulgarian and Russian, and our Romanian speaking friends would have had an issue without us, especially the time some of the clothes they had washed had disappeared (and were all found). Plus, the old man like us being around too for times like the one where he asked me to talk on the phone because he didn’t speak English that well, leaving me as interpreter for those inquiring things like if we had any free beds for the evening and what one night costs.

- As for food, the hostel’s we stayed at had free breakfast in the mornings. Otherwise, we were able to go the stores in both city’s and buy what we wanted, usually just bread, cheese, sausage, and things like that. One great thing about Istanbul is that everywhere on the streets are stands that sell sandwiches for 1 Turkish Lira, the equivalent of about 65 cents. We also did our best do drink a Turkish coffee (totally different from any other coffee) every day, with each costing slightly under two dollars even at a nicer shop.

- Getting around both cities was very easy. Istanbul has a very easy to understand and use metro system and everything can also be reached on foot, and while sometimes that means a bit of a walk, if the weather was nice it simply meant an opportunity to spend some extra time strolling the ancient and beautiful city. In Sofia too everything is easy to find on foot, and thing that are too far to reach by walking (such as the mountain and Peace Corps office) are manageable by the metro system.

- As you very may well know, I spent Christmas and New Years both in Istanbul. Christmas day was great. I was able to go to mass for the first time since June at an ancient church in Istanbul, and when the clock changed the day from Christmas Eve to Christmas, I was standing between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia - I can spent think of a lot worse ways to spend the moment.

As for New Years, we had asked a lot of Turkish people where the ‘hot-spot’ in the city was and they all told of us the section that we knew fairly well - indeed, on December 31st some of us traveled there to scout out where to go in the evening. There was already a large crowd there and we figured that the buzz for the evening was just getting started.

So that night we spent some time having a beer or two in the hotel room before venturing out to the place where the celebration was to be. While waiting at the metro stop we happened upon two American, a couple, who were looking for a place to go for the evening - an invitation was quickly given for them to accompany us and was quickly accepted. However, once we got to our destination we were actually disappointed by the amount of people there (the crowd was noticeably larger at 4:00 in the afternoon there). We made our way into a bar by 11:45 and ordered drinks, waiting for something to happen - before we knew it we looked down at our watches and it was 12:02, the moment passing without an ounce of fanfare from the Turks around it. A bit of a letdown, to say the least.

- However, one of the problems was that we were during there during the Muslim holiday (they said ‘bayram’ in Turkish but it’s a different work in Arabic) in which they first have to visit those who have passed, then slaughter a lamb and give the meat to the less-fortunate. It’s supposed to be a day of quite remembrance, and unfortunately for us the first day of the celebration was December 31st, making for a lesser amount of people wanting (or able) to really celebrate. There was one silver-lining - because of the holiday, I was able to read on the Drudge Report that 1200 Turks had been admitted to hospitals for wounds self-inflicted in the
slaughtering of the animals.

Also, while in the airport our first day in Istanbul we noticed a lot of people in a simply white outfit that looked (not to sound disrespectful) like a simple bath robe: there was an especially large group around the Saudi Air desk. We had no real idea what was going on but thought it maybe was the Hajj, and watching television and reading the internet a day later confirmed our thoughts. The Hajj had begun.

- I simply can not imagine the amount of tourists in Istanbul in the summer. For our time there we could see the amount of people gradually getting larger and larger as New Years approached. In a way, we were lucky to get there when we did. There is one place there that is the basement remnants of an ancient basilica built in the early AD’s. When we were there a line at the door was nonexistent and we were able to enjoy the beauty and tranquility of the place in peace. However, by December 28th we walked by and there was a line of people for 30 feet our the door with the Hagia Sophia also filling rapidly.

And everyone says that the tourists in the summer are even worse. I can’t imagine.

- We only had one problem in Bulgaria, and it could have been a big problem: it basically involved the ticket-checker on the train when we were trying to leave not doing his job and reading our ticket (which had a receipt for 5 places). He let the two girls in our party on with little hassle but he took the ticket that had all 5 places on it and demanded to see our tickets, not realizing that he had it the whole time. And in his confusion he started yelling at us, telling us to get off the train because we were holding things up, which caused my friends and I to yell back in English and Russian and tell him that we were going nowhere until he did his job. He finally realized that he was in the wrong and subsequently let us take the places we had paid for without an apology or even the slightest admittance of wrong-doing. Classic.

- I’ve written about the Russian district we found at night. We actually walked through it our first day there and knew where it was - because there are a lot of Moldovans working there we made it our goal to find them. We asked a lot of Turks where it was possible to meet the and they told us that we were in the place but that it was risky to go there at night because one could enter a bar, order one drink, and be brought the tab by a guy with a gun who told you that the bill was 50 dollars (or something like that could happen). Nonetheless, we made it our goal despite the inherent danger.

So the night of the 26th my friend, his cousin who met up in Istanbul, and I headed out to the district at night to find someone from Moldova. We carried fifteen dollars each and nothing worth stealing to maximize our safety. We entered one bar off the main street (one that looked legitimate) and the beer was 8 Turkish lira, amazingly expensive, so we walked to another reputable looking bar where there were four Mafia-looking types sitting around one table. A guy came up to us and said something in Turkish while pointing to his watch, then gave us a card advertising some sort of show (the card was in Arabic). We left that place quickly.

Finally, we came upon a street that looked exactly Bourbon Street in New Orleans with the exception that it was totally empty, not a soul to be found. We walked one block and were quickly greeted by a Turkish man who quickly rattled off words in Turkish before he said, "Russian?". I responded in the affirmative and he quickly asked me what we wanted. I told him we were Americans who live in Moldova and we simply wanted to talk with someone from Moldova, that we didn’t want anything more and that our salary is only 100 dollars per month. He told me that it was possible and that we simply needed to get into a taxi and we would be ‘with the girls’ soon. I asked him two questions: 1) Where is this bar located?, and 2) How to get there on foot?, because we were under no circumstances getting into a taxi. Out of the question. It quickly came clear that they would not tell us anything and that we were not going anywhere in a taxi, so we ended up walking home.

On the way home we decided we wanted some beer and walked along the main road to find a store, where some Turkish man approached us, asked us something in his language, and pointed to his watch. I showed him mine and he asked where we were from - when I said ‘Moldova’ he started speaking Russian to me; turns out, he lived in Yalta, Moscow, and Kazakhstan for a while and asked us questions about Moldova. After a few minutes he also, subtly, told us he knows of a bar where there are girls from Moldova, Russia, Romania, Ukraine . . . By this time we were not interested in anything anymore and simply told him that we were going to bed.

There is also a long story that took place New Years Night which basically involves my friend and I walking for four hours around Istanbul (we were lost for a while) on a mission to meet a Moldovan, fully realizing that it would likely have to be a . . . . lady of the night. So we ventured to the Russian district on a mission, ended up talking to a Turkish pimp in Russian (making it totally clear that we wanted only to talk to the Moldovan, that we didn’t want to do anything else). The total? 30 dollars for 2 hours. So the man, after we denied his request to go by taxi, led us to a ‘bar’ where we could only see a corridor and a staircase going up. I only had about 20 dollars on my at the time so maximize safety but my friend has his passport and visa card plus about 20 dollars cash too: thus, we decided to play it safe and not enter, despite the man’s promises that nothing would happen to us. And if you are reading this and worried about my safety, don’t.

- Finally, I’ll retell what we did in the airport the night we flew out of Istanbul - the highlight and low-light of the trip.

Low-light: Between Turkey and Bulgaria, when we got off the train for passport control. It was 3:30 in the morning, about 0 degrees outside, I was tired and miserable. So was another girl I traveled with. We agreed that if possible, we would have - in an instant - gotten on a train going back to Istanbul.

Highlight: Being in the Blue Mosque during incantations of prayer in Arabic. It was peaceful, surreal, tranquil - simply put, the highlight of my time.

Home

I've returned, safe and sound to Moldova. I don't have the time now to go into details, but in a day or two I'll post about 4000 words and some pictures.