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!!!