Soroca Trip

Last Sunday, my host parents and I went on an excursion with a tour group. The group consisted of people that worked in my moms office and their friends and relatives. Apparently they go on tours twice a year or so. My host-sister told me that last year they traveled to the ocean twice. This trip, we went to Soroca. There we visited Cetatea Soroca, Monastery Soroca and Luminarea Recunostintei.

We left the house around 7:00 and shared a taxi with our neighbors to the center of town where we met up with my mom's co-workers. From there we took a rutiera to Chisinau. We arrived at the tour bus at around 8:30 and before long we headed off to Soroca. Our first stop was Cetatea Soroca.

Cetatea Soroca was built a really long time ago. And that is all I know about it because I couldn't understand what the tour guide was saying. At the Cetatea, they had some placenta, wine and champagne for us to eat and drink. After having a bite to eat, I explored the fortress and took some pictures.






After we left the fortress, we headed to the monastery. This monastery was not as nice or as interesting as the two monasteries that I went to before. It was smaller and the did not have beautiful gardens like Hincu and Capriana; however, the area surrounding it was much more naturally picturesque.





When we got back on the bus the tour guide was giving every one water, or so I thought. Turns out she was only giving this special water from the monastery to single women. Apparently, if you drink the water you will get married (Yes, I drank the water. I figure it's about the only shot i've got. Lol)

The last place we went to for the day was Luminarea Recunostintei, or that one church-like place with a bazillion stairs. Literally, the stairs continued forever, but once I actually made it to the top the views were beautiful! Here are some pics:







After all the sightseeing, everyone unpacked the food they had bought and we stopped on the way home for a masa. My we had all sorts of food, house wine, champagne, cognac, and visinata. I have to say that cognac is growing on me. When I first tried it, I though it was the nastiest thing ever, bit now I think it's kind of good. After all of that food and alcohol, I didn't have any trouble sleeping in the way back.

The tour bus dropped us off at the Gara de Sud. Where we would normally catch the rutiera back to Hincesti. Unfortunately, we were too late and had missed the last rutiera. We asked another driver if we could pay him to detour through Hincesti. But before we left someone found a rutiera that was going to Leova through Hincesti and we took it.

We finally got home a little before 10:00 and I was exhausted. It was a long day, but now I think I have seen more important places in Moldova than I ever did in America.

A Naked Blog Post

Last Thursday, I had the my most interesting experience thus far in Moldova.

On Tuesday during dinner, my host mom invited me to go to the sauna with her and her lady friends in celebration of her birthday. I had to have her both repeat the word sauna and explain the word sauna, just to make sure that I had understood correctly. I said that I would go and then I began to investigate what would be involved in the sauna trip and level of nakedness this event would entail.

I originally imagined a bunch of ladies sitting around in towels and maybe a few would choose to bear it all. Turns out that I had no clue what was actually going to happen.

On Wednesday, we started preparing food for our trip to the sauna. My host-mom prepared sarmale and a roasted chicken. We also bought meat, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers to make appetizer trays. In addition, we took grapes and pears to snack on as well as beer, wine and cognac to drink (Yup, we took alcohol to drink in the sauna).

Finally on Thursday, I left work early because we had to leave for the sauna in Chisinau at 3:00. On the way we bought some bread and we arrived at the sauna about 4:15. We took all the food to the sauna's kitchen and started putting it out on plates (Yes, the sauna provides plates). At 5:00, I actually got a peak into the “sauna.” There was a large room with a table for dinner, a room with some arm chairs and a pool table, a room with a bed (“wink wink”) and the bath area. The bath are consisted of a sauna, showers and a pool.

We had all our food an the table along with some contributions from the other ladies by 5:30. Also by 5:30, all of the other ladies had undressed and were wrapped in towels. We all ate dinner and the ladies went around giving toasting my host-mom. After each toast they sang a song or two. They had even changed the words to some of the songs so they would be about my host-mom. I gave my toast and then, upon request, I sang “Happy Birthday.”

After the dinner, the ladies told me to change so we could go in the sauna. I did so, wrapped myself in a towel and then came upon a dilemma: should I take off my panties? Then I saw one of the other ladies walking around completely nude and decided: Yes, I should take off my panties.

Then I went into the bath area where the rest of the ladies were all completely nude as well. For the next few hours everyone went from the sauna to the pool to the shower and back to the sauna. My host mom brought exfoliant and a home-made body mask for every one to use. By the time we finished, my skin was smooth and moisturized!!!

So yes, in short I spent several hours hanging out, singing and eating while naked with other naked ladies.

Just Call Me Daisy

The other day, I came home to find my family making moonshine. As exciting as this sounds, it may actually be one of the most unexciting things that has happened to me in Moldova.

My host-dad had set up a contraption, which I believe to be some type of still. When I came home he asked me if I wanted to try his “viskey.” At this point, my host-sister corrected him and said “vodka.” To tell the truth, when I actually tasted it, the flavor was not really reminiscent of either. Here are a few pics of the process:







I always imagined that making moonshine, would some how be like Dukes of Hazard. Turns out it is not. No General Lee, no Daisy, and no hot boys. (However, my host sister does sometimes wear a shirt with a confederate flag that says "Rebel.") It basically distills itself, so there is not much to do besides watch it drip into a jar. The most exciting thing was wondering if I would go blind or not after I tried it. Turns out I can still see (which in a way is kind of disappointing because if I had gone blind it would have made a great story).

My host-dad asked me if I had ever made “viskey” before. When I told him that it was difficult to legally make “viskey” at home in the US, he thought it was hilarious. My host dad is quite the patriot, but I could tell at that particular point in time he thought that it was even more awesome to be Moldovan than he had thought previously.

Imelda in Chisinau

I spent last Saturday night in Chisinau. I went to celebrate the birthdays of some of my fellow volunteers. To tell the truth, most of the trip was pretty uneventful for me. I had a few drinks, some cake, some McDonald's and that about sums up my part in the birthday celebration activities.

Before I headed back to Chisinau on Sunday Morning, I went to the Piata Centrala to do some shopping. I bought some bed sheets, sunglasses and (drum roll please)...

my first pair of Moldovan shoes (pictured below).



Shoe shopping in Moldova proved to be slightly more difficult than I had anticipated. The are so many women here who walk around in the most awesome heels. I thought finding a cute pair would be a cinch. Apparently, I am more picky when it comes to buying shoes for myself than when judging those shoes worn by others (this is even more surprising when you consider that “judging” is pretty much my favorite past time).

The piata is set up similar to a flea market. Every vendor has their own space and they sell every thing from basketballs to live chickens. There is a decent selection of vendors who sell shoes. As I walked from vendor to vendor inspecting to shoes, a pattern emerged: Rhinestones. Literally every pair of heels had some type of rhinestone embellishment. It was like all the shoes were from a misdirected shipment that had originally been destined for a show in Vegas. I love sparkles, but when it comes to them I take an all or nothing approach. I either want the shoes to be completely cover in, oh say, pink glitter or completely without sparkles. Nether of these seemed to be a viable option.

When I finally found a cute pair without sparkles, they did not come in a size large enough to fit my fat American feet. I wear an 8.5 (which is a 39 or 40 here), not exactly huge. So I went back to find a pair that I had seen earlier, which had only minimal sparkles and came in “Size Sasquatch” (the shoes pictured above).

People mainly speak Russian in Chisinau. I am not entirely sure why this is. I asked my sisters and one said that it is a political statement and the other said it was because they think it is cool. This Russian speaking is not a problem for Moldovans because most of them speak both Russian and Romanian; however for some one who barely speaks Romanian, this is not convenient in the least. In the past, I have tried to ask questions in stores in Chisinau, only to be responded to multiple times in Russian (yes, even after saying than I don't speak Russian). In spite of all of this, the communication through the shoe trying on process went pretty smoothly. The man who helped me try on the shoes talked with me a little in Romanian. His counterpart came and started talking to me in Russian, but when he realized that I didn't understand he immediately started speaking Romanian with me. Both of them thought that I was British, and I just let them think that. It must have been the Red hair.

To complete the whole shoe buying experience, I wore my new shoes the next day. My host mom complemented me on them and then immediately asked how much they cost. I am still always taken aback when someone asks me how much something costs, even though this is a completely acceptable and common practice here. The cost of my shoes was 300 lei. When I told my host mom, I was afraid she would think that I paid too much. Not the case, she simply said “Nu e scump (that's not expensive)” and we continued to work.

An Ambulance for Cars

I think that I mentioned in a previous blog posts that my host parents have the most awesome car ever. It is a four-door, blue Lada (pictured below):



It may not look like much, but it seems like a tough little car. And why shouldn't it be tough, it was made by the Russians.

I usually walk to work. It is only a thirty to forty minute walk. But sometimes it is raining or I just don't feel like walking, so I hitch a ride to work with the host parents. Every morning a man, Domnul Ion, comes overs, warms up the car and backs to car out of the driveway to the dirt street in front of our house. Then we all hop in. My host dad always sits in the front seat and my host mom and I (and sometimes a neighbor) sit in the back.

Before we can leave the first challenge arises, closing the door. You really have to slam the doors to get them to stay closed. I can now close the door with one slam, but when I first arrived it would take me about three tries. My host dad would yell that it was a Russian car and I wasn't gonna break it. Then I would slam it harder and harder until it would finally close.

The next challenge in the foggy windows. Domnul Ion drives us and wipes the windows with a towel at the same time. I gather from this that the car has no defroster, but the wiping seems to do the job. But, the real challenge comes when we try to turn onto the main road. Domnul Ion wipe the windows vigorously so he can see the traffic, then he watches for an opening and tries to prevent the car from stalling at the same time.

And finally, every once in a while his job even includes jumping the clutch on the way down the hill to get the car started, but this is a rare occurrence. When this does occur, my host dad pushes while Domnul Ion steers the car out of the drive way onto the street. At this point, we all get in and my host dad gives us a final push to get us started down the hill and then he jumps in. I wish that I could say this was a new and unique experience for me, but unfortunately I have bump started many a car and sport bike in my life.

One day on the way home from work, we decided stop by my host-sister's house. We were about a block away when oue car stopped right in the middle of an intersection. I thought it was the end of the most awesome car I have ever known, but alas we had just run out of gas. Now, I didn't really know what we were going to do. The gas station is a little way out of town. I estimate it to be about an hours walk, two hours there and back. I prepared myself for the worst. But in less than 5 minutes, this arrived:



I think that is basically looks like an ambulance and that is just what it is, an ambulance for cars. The drive brought us a 1.5 liter water bottle full of gas, and we were off. If only AAA could be so efficient!!

Now for the real question, why does Domnul Ion drive us everywhere? The answer is that I have no idea!! I don't think that my host mom knows how to drive, but I know for sure that my host dad does. When I find out, I will be sure to blog about it!! Until then....

Here's to my driver, Domnul Ion!!!

Hincesti Video

Because I have failed to post any pictures of my site, here is a quick YouTube video about the town that I live in, Hincesti. Enjoy!



Stay tuned, I am going to post more about my family's awesome car soon!

The Gift of Dance

My friend and previous colleague, Amy Baker, has in the past responded to emails with the acronym “TLTR,” which stands for “Too Long To Read.” And, if she were to give her input about the following blog post, I am almost certain that she would respond with “TLTR.” But, too bad I am going to post it anyway.

Last Thursday, my partner Angela invited me to her brother's wedding. I was really excited about the prospect of going to a Moldovan wedding (or a “nuntă” as it is called in Romanian). In Pre-Service Training, we learned about Moldovan wedding traditions and they sounded fun and interesting. The only problem was that the wedding was the following evening, Friday evening. Although, I had been verbally informed about the wedding the week before, I only received the official invitation the day before the wedding. That is what I call short notice.

Below in a picture of the wedding invitation. You will notice the continued difficulty with my name. To their credit, my name on the invitation is spelled exactly how Moldovans pronounce Katie: “Catty.”





Thursday night, I went home and asked everyone in my host family about weddings. I learned that I didn't need to bring a gift, because Moldovans give money at weddings. So, I inquired as to how much money I should give. My host mom said that it would be appropriate for me to give $50. $50!!! I am on a PC living stipend here!!! But, I sucked it up and decided the experience of going to a Moldovan wedding was worth $50.

The next day I went to work, but we only worked half a day because we all needed to go home and rest for the wedding. On my way home I accompanied Angela to the florist, where she carefully selected and purchased a lovely bouquet of flowers. I asked if I should bring flowers too. Angela gave me a round about answer about how she was a member of the family, so she was obligated to give more at the wedding and that it wasn't necessary that I bring flowers.

I then headed the rest of the way home, caught up on a few episodes of Top Gear and prepared for the wedding. To begin my wedding preparations, I shined my shoes. Having clean and shiny shoes is very important in Moldova. Almost everyone cleans, if not polishes their shoes pretty much everyday. I am not sure how they do it, but they also manage to walk on dirt and gravel roads with out getting their shoes dusty, scuffed or muddy.

After my shoes were reminiscent of the top of the Chrysler Building, I showered, flat ironed my hair, “put on my face” and made sure to put the battery for my digital camera on the charger. Then, I headed outside to get approval of my wedding outfit from my family. My host dad commented that I was wearing black to a wedding, but my host mom and host sister, both thought it was fine; however, they did tell me to put on nylons.

I then gathered together my “gift (aka $50),” my phone and my camera and called my partner Valentina to see when she would be by to pick me up. She said she would arrive at 8:30. Again with the Moldovan time!!! The wedding was supposed to start at 8:00. At 9:00, she finally arrived at my house in a taxi. When I got inside, she had purchased flowers for me to give to the bride. I can't help but think that it may have been communicated to her that I had not purchased to requisite flowers earlier in the day and instead of someone just telling me that I should buy flowers, they went out of there way to bring them for me.

No one attends the actual Moldovan wedding outside of the couple's parents, the maid of honor, best man, and the “nanaş” and “nanaşa” (which are to couples God parents). Guests only attend the reception, which is held at a restaurant. We arrived at the restaurant (the same restaurant that my host-sister's wedding was at) and were some of the first people there to spite being an hour late.

When guests first came into the restaurant, they gave the couple flowers and a small monetary gift (20-100 lei, which is roughly $2-$10). It was similar to a receiving line at an American wedding. I gave the bride my flowers and wished the couple “mulți ani şi mulți bani,” which means “many years and much money.” (It was at this point, when I tried to take a picture of the receiving line, that I realized that I never put the battery back in my digital camera, so I have no pictures to post. Sorry!) I sat down with Valentina and in about half an hour the rest of the wedding party and guests showed up. Angela and I then did some Moldovan dances. The only one that I know the name of in the “Hora,” but we also did several others. As soon as I sat down to take a break from the dancing, my favorite Moldovan child, Angela's daughter Sophie, came and wanted me to dance some more, so I did.

Then we all sat down at the tables and the happy couple and their “nanaşi” made there way through a tunnel of people holding flowers to the front table. After they sat down everyone chanted for them to kiss and then we started eating the cold meal. The man across from me poured my a glass of cognac, which I used to toast all the people who came around the tables and wanted to clink glasses. These people included the bride's father and any other drunk man (or woman) who felt like toasting everyone. (This was a strange turn of events, because I am usually the drunk that wants to toast everyone!)

After the cold food, we danced more of the Hora and other traditional dances. There was one dance that is like musical chairs but with women. In this dance there is one too few girls. When the music stops every one changes parters and the odd man out has to dance with a broom!!! I would also like to bring everyone's attention to the fact that a certain dance that in the US we call the Bunny Hop, is actually the National Dance of Romania!!

After the dancing, we sat down for the hot food. It was roughly 1:00 am by this time. During this meal, I witnessed several Moldovan wedding traditions. First, the couple broke a loaf of bread and each ate a small piece. Then the bread was passed around and all of the guests ate a small piece. Next, the bride's and groom's family brought them loafs of bread with blankets folded on top of them. After that the gift giving started.

The nanaş was the first to give his gift. He stood up, gave a short speech and then put $1200 Euros in the basket!!! Then the singer/MC of the wedding, the best man, made of honor and the nanaş all went around the tables collecting the “gifts.” Everyone stood up and said something to the couple and then put their money in the basket. And they all said how much money they were giving!!! The average amount given was $100-$200 per couple (not lei, dollars)!!!! When they came to me I said, “ Doar vorbesc puțin româneste. Voi vorbi limbă engleza,” which means, “ I only speak a little Romanian. I will speak English.” Then I wished the couple well in English and I may have forgotten to say how much I gave.

I thought that it would be a unique touch for me to give US dollars instead of lei. It is extremely easy to exchange money here. You can literally exchange dollars for Moldovan Lei, Romanian Lei, Euros or Russian Rubles on almost every street corner, so it wouldn't be difficult for the couple to exchange them if they needed to. Turns out this was not unique at all. About 20 other people gave their gifts in dollars, the majority of people gave euros and only a few people actually gave lei. Great idea Katie!!!

Along with putting their money in the basket, people also tipped the singer. When someone gave the singer a tip they then got to request a song. About five people requested songs. But, my favorite part of the evening came when a drunk man put his money in the basket, but then announced that as part of his gift he would also perform a dance for the couple. He, unfortunately, was no dancer. Everyone, including me, enjoyed the dance anyway. I couldn't help but wonder if this was some crazy Moldovan tradition and I started to feel bad for thinking it was so funny. Later, I questioned my host sister about this, turns out it is not a tradition, just some drunk guy who thought he was a good dancer. Guilt alleviated! Then, I thought it was hilarious that in America we talk about “the gift of dance” and here in Moldova, people are literally giving dance as a gift!!!

After everyone put their money in the basket, the bride and groom walked around and thanked everyone. They thanked me in English!!! After that Angela's brother-in-law gave Valentina and I a ride to our respective homes. I arrived home about 3:30 in the morning and I was one of the first people to leave the wedding. Apparently, Moldovan weddings usually go until 5:00 or 6:00 in the morning. Moldovans really know how to party!!!

When I talked to my host parents the next morning, I told them that Moldovan weddings are a lot more fun that American weddings (and American weddings are pretty fun, so that says a lot). My host dad, who continually brings up the idea of me getting married to a Moldovan, said “If you marry a Moldovan man, you will get to have a Moldovan wedding.” And honestly, it is the most convincing argument that he has made thus far...

And a special thank you and congratulations to Nataşa and Oleg!!!!

But Mom, I Don't Wanna Go to School

Yesterday was the first day of school in Hincesti, as well as the rest of Moldova. This is a much bigger deal here in Moldova than it is in the US. In America, the biggest thing that happened on the first day of school was my mom embarrassingly walking me all the way to my classroom door, as opposed to dropping me off in front of the school like she would the rest of the year. (Geeze Mom!!) In Moldova, on the other hand, the first day of school is a big deal. Because both of my partners have school aged children, I was able to meet them at the school the experience the festivities.

Yesterday morning, my host-mom dropped me off at “Scoala Unu (It has a real name, but no one says it.)” to meet my partners and their kids. Nether of them was there when I arrived; however, my partner Angela's daughter, Sophie, was and she greeted my warmly. I love Sophie!! She is friendly and outgoing. She always tries to talk to me in Romanian and I usually understand what she says. She also is not afraid to try to speak English with me. I find a lot of Moldovans seem a little “timid” when it comes to speaking English with a native speaker, but not Sophie!!! She then told me that her mom and Valentina would arrive shortly.

Valentina and her brood soon arrived along with their “bunica,” or grandma. Then we waited about an hour for the festivities to begin. (They were running on Moldvan time I guess.) When the festivities did start they were adorable. First, the older students held the hand of the youngest students and paraded around. These youngsters were first graders, who would be attending “Scoala Unu” for the first time. The best part is they all wore suits, full three piece suits. They looked like little business men, or lobbyists. My partner, Valentina's son was one of the newcomers to the school. I tried to take some pictures of him and the little parade, but I didn't want to fight with the parents who were all jockeying for the best photographing position. This was the best that I could do (however, this is not Valentina's son):




The rest of the ceremony went on for about an hour and a half and included your run of the mill ceremonial things: color guard, speeches, introductions of new teachers, a few awards, and a girl who sang a mediocre song. I won't bore you with the details, except that the primar of Hincesti gave a speech and my partner again informed me that people refer to him as “Obama.”



At the end there was the ringing of the bell. One of the older boys carried a young girl on his shoulder and they paraded around while she rang a bell decorated with flowers. I have to say she was pretty adorable with her pig tails and bows that were roughly the size of her head.



After the bell ringing, school started (Big surprise!!!). All the students went to there respective class rooms, but Valentina's son, Augustine, did not want to go to school. So, she took him to his classroom and stayed with him for a while. And then we all met up at the office for a productive work day (Fun!!!)

Later in the evening, I watched the news with my host mom and dad. The first day of school was big news. The morning festivities that I had attended seemed to be identical to those that had occurred all over Moldova that morning. I need to do more research to find out of this is a Moldova thing, a Moldova/Romania thing or a Soviet thing. The answers should be interesting.

The Surge Protector and the Macaroni

Like the title foreshadows, this blog post unsuccessfully attempts to combine two completely unrelated events into one cohesive story. I apologize in advance.

The best purchase that I have made since my arrival in Moldova is a surge protector. This is not because it will protect my electronics from the countless electrical surges that inevitably occur here in Moldova (such as the one that fried my old computer), but because it allows me to flat iron my hair in my room. Let me elaborate....

I brought with me from the U.S. the best flat iron ever, but the problem is exactly that: it is from the US. It requires a hefty power adapter/converter to operate here in Moldova. The outlet in my room is behind my large and immovable wardrobe and there is not enough room to fit said power adapter/converter between the outlet and the wardrobe. So, each morning, I'd head down to the bathroom to plug my flat iron into in unobstructed outlet there. This was really not an inconvenience for me, but I worried that someone would want to use the bathroom for something important (say peeing or showering) while I was busy ironing my hair into submission.

Well, upon the arrival of my new Mac (I just love the sound of that phrase “my new Mac”), I purchased a surge protector to ensure that “my new Mac” did not meet the same fate as my old computer. Now I am able to plug the surge protector into the wall and then plug the cumbersome power adapter/converter into the surge protector. Victory! Now I can fry my hair in the privacy of my room.

All this leads me to a story that is actually only minutely interesting. On Monday morning, I was sitting in my room flat ironing my hair and my host sister, Irina, knocked on the door.

A little background on Irina. Irina lives in the US, in Gatlinberg, Tennessee to be exact. Between studying abroad, work and travel, and now having her green card, I think she has spent about 5 years in the United States. She now lives there permanently and plans to continue to live there for the rest of her live; however, she is currently visiting for a month.

When put down my flat iron and open the door, Irina says “Mananci macaroane cu lapte?” which means “Will you eat pasta with milk?” I think for a minute and then say “Yes.” At this she gives me a weird look and says “You realize that is spaghetti and milk?” I say “yes.” She then says “Do you like spaghetti and milk?” So, I go on to explain that I have never tried it, but I like both spaghetti and milk, so why not give it a try.

I go down to breakfast and sit down to a bowl of hot milk with macaroni floating in it. And it was delicious!!! The best thing I have eaten in Moldova. I put a small amount of honey in it like my host-mom did and about died and went to heaven. It was awesome!

All that I have had in Moldova is raw, but my family boils it and, basically, pasteurizes it themselves. Because of they have to boil the milk, they always seem to drink it hot. At first, I thought this was gross. I have talked to other volunteers that told me their families drink hot milk with honey. Again, I thought that was gross. Wrong, absolutely delicious!!!

This is one culinary delight that I am gonna bring back to America!!!