Duckling's Ball

Last night I attended the "Duckling's Ball" at the local high school. In this case, duckling is a metaphor for the tenth grade class, who entered the high school last month. I felt like I belonged in high school every time I giggled as the "ducklings from class 10A" were called to the stage, but the whole event is rather steeped in tradition and esteem. It truly is a rite of passage.

On a semantic note, I'd like to explain that this ball did not include gowns and king's of Siam dancing the night away with English teachers. The event actually took place in a theater, and students from the tenth grade class performed songs, dances, poems, and skits.

As I sat in a room packed with adolescents, flash backs from every high school pep rally came whizzing by. I liked high school a lot, but it's probably best for humanity that all good things come to an end.

Embarrassingly generous, much appreciated

*Last post ever about birthdays, see 'holiday' posts for more*

Here's my PCV colleague Craig putting some remarkable mayonnaise art on the little tomato and eggplant stacks. My idea for a simple, American-style dessert gathering with the neighbors turned into a full-blown Moldovan masa. Maria was having none of that American nonsense this time around! Instead, she dedicated about a day and a half work to preparing this meal.

The menu went something like this: cheese pies, potato pies, chicken/pineapple/olive/cheese salad, beet salad, cabbage stuffed bitter-peppers, smashed beans, walnuts in about every dish, walnut pie, a roast chicken with potato wedges, adjika, those tomato and eggplant stacks, a dozen beautifully crafted pepper flowers, and homemade cake.

I can't really put into English words how much I appreciated this event. As I told the guests in my toast, last year I was in Chisinau, with other Peace Corps Volunteers, on my birthday. I thought those people were my friends. But all day my Moldovan neighbors called me to wish me well. So for over a year, it's been decided that I would do something with them to show how much I appreciate getting to know them.

Though, for all my efforts to make this evening modest (failed) and as little work as possible for my host mom (utterly failed), my friends and neighbors still managed to trump me. In the photo below is a snapshot of the beautiful table cloth eight women pitched into to buy for me. EIGHT! As they hoisted it above their heads and started whooping in high pitched tones, I knew what was coming next.

"Dear Melissa, we probably won't be able to give you this at your wedding. So we wanted to do it now," Svetlana said.

"It's for your home someday," Eugenia said.

"Get married soon!" Aliona lectured, again.

"To remember us at every special occasion," Maria said.

"I don't know what Mrs. Svetlana is talking about, I'm coming to America when you use this table cloth," Fedorita said, winking as she did.

What's left to say? I love Moldova. I love Moldova. I love Moldova.

Semi-surprise birthday

There was a small, modest, birthday event planned for me today at work. As per Moldovan custom, I planned it. It was to involve a double-batch of chocolate chip cookies, a game of spoons, and hopefully, a hora or two. As we were walking to my center, a fellow PCV said to me, what if they surprise you with something more. Immediately I said, "no, they won't do that," and backed it up with a short list of reasons why. 

But of course, he was right. There ended up being a far from modest table arranged by my partner and some of the other youth. There were balloons, notes, flowers, and a delicious cake (mulțumesc frumos Doamna Brashovsky și Alina!). Check out this video I managed to capture while the youth council sang a Romanian song, equivalent to "happy birthday."

By the way, we did eventually get to that game of spoons...we literally played until someone's fingers bled! They are a little intense!

Friday night fun

People tell me blog is "so positive," but to be honest, what is the alternative? I love Peace Corps life. Particularly, how far it takes me back to social square number one, and how deliberate my effort to establish friendships needs to be. Thus, my relationship with the Popa family (neighbors, dear friends, and host family to the newest Peace Corps Volunteer in town), is one of the most rewarding fruits of my service.

On Friday night, friends, colleagues, and a couple extra Peace Corps Volunteers crowded into the Popa family's dining room to celebrate our sitemate's birthday. That's him, Yoel, with the fork. If anyone left this table hungry, my mother would have told them it was his/her own fault. This table was literally overflowing with kebabs-style chicken, salads, bread, sliced meats, and veggies. My contribution: a double batch of lemon bars. Happy birthday, Yoel!

To my absolute pleasure, the party turned to song and Aurel to his accordion. Now, Aurel isn't exactly someone you'd pay to play at a wedding party, but I would most certainly drop a few coins in his pitcher if I saw him at the local pub. If not for his music, then the way he wears his music on his face. As if the notes aren't quite conveying his efforts, he manages to illustrate the rest in the furrow of his brow and the upward and downward turn of his smile. In this clip, he's just warming up you see...so when he says "my repid" and starts over, he's really begging the rest of us to pick-up the pace. The song title translates to "this is my life, and I like it this way."

Again, one of my favorite traditions at these celebrations is the long winded, adjective bloated, speech giving. For Yoel, I plagiarized a toast from the last birthday party we had in my neighborhood, wishing him "one horse cart full of good health, because if you have that, then you can have at least two horse carts of happiness." Yes, please, roll you eyes now. 

The man in the blue sweater really pulled out all the stops though. Explaining the family tree to the extent that Yoel could be called a legitimate nephew of the family, he told Yoel, as many Moldovans do at these events, that he is waiting for the next generation of nieces and nephews. Better him than me!

Yoel and Aurel have literally become "buddies." It's something I've heard around town, but finally observed after all the other guest had left and my attempts to help Angela clean up resulted in her re-setting the table for us. Aurel playfully messes with Yoel's hair in that "noogie" kinda way. They give each other high-fives when they make jokes, and slap each other on the back. If Yoel learns to play the accordion, he'd go down in volunteer history.

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The members of the Popa family are recurring characters on this blog, you can learn more about my experience with them here, here, and here. 

Proud owner of a thesaurus

To explain just how compelling acquiring a thesaurus really is, let’s back up a step or two.

In Moldova, we celebrate “Our Language Day” in late August. However, the further you get from major cities, the stronger the sentiment gets that “Our Language” is not Romanian, but rather Moldoveneasca. Rather than enter my two-cents directly, I’ll tell you this: Peace Corps pays for my Romanian language instruction (thank you tax-payers!). But it is also no secret, that when I spend time in the village, ‘b’ sounds are replaced grunting ‘g’ sounds, and many nouns are called by their Russian names.

On the whole, Moldova operates as a bi-lingual country. Some people only speak Russian, some people only speak Romanian, and some people speak Russian in state matters, but an entirely different, albeit Turkish-descending language in their daily lives. But overall, most people speak both Russian and Romanian as first languages.

I have been to Romania, heard the difference between pronunciations in Romania and Moldova, but my short time in Bucharest was not nearly enough to help me understand my unanswered question: Does the Romanian language in Romania have a higher word-count than the Romanian language as it is spoken in Moldova? This is not really a question I want anyone else’s opinion about; rather I need to experience it for myself. Too often when this question is discussed, political and historical opinions fester in the responses.

I started asking this question a few months ago when I grew increasingly bored of the word “interesting” as buy-in-bulk response to anything. Someone tells you about his or her day, “that’s interesting.” Someone describes a new fashion/recipe/experience, “how interesting!” Someone discovers a new store/product/way to get even cheaper mobile service, “Oooh, interesting.”

So, in July I hunted down some synonyms for this pesky adjective. However, the only one that truly gathered support in any true conversation was “captivating.” Now, it too is growing a little old. Thus, when I discovered the thesaurus, I immediately dived in and found the following synonyms: captivating, attractive, nice, bizarre, strange, and unusual. This week, I’m going to make some honest attempt at substituting “interesting” with “nice” and possibly “unusual” to see what the response is.

But if I haven’t lost readers completely, I’d like to explain just one more challenge in my attempts to express my thoughts and feelings as accurately as possible in this language. Since I found the thesaurus and started using it, nearly every adjective in the book that I searched for a way to strengthen lists “unusual” as a possibility. Synonyms for unusual: interesting, captivating, abnormal, eccentric, fantastic, hard-working, rare, remarkable, unused, mixed-up.

What does this say about the thoughts I am trying to express and my attempts to express them more accurately? Probably that I am trying to strengthen my vocabulary in all the wrong places…but curiosity is a pleasure and a poison. 

Reporting Time

I'm a little confused about what to do with this blog space. Of late, Google is telling me my readers are Mac users, Google Chrome users, and in Moldova. In short, somehow this blog has become more popular with fellow PCVs than with it's intended audience of friends and family back home. And last Saturday, a colleague quoted one of my posts back to me (which was awesome). For now, I'm going to keep providing the same kind of content I have been, keeping Peace Corps' third goal in mind. But I'm open to suggestions.

    

I don't have an original idea for a post this time, but it just so happens that it is the end of the quarter and fiscal year, and I am spending my Monday night completing the beloved "Volunteer Report Form" for my program manager. I'll share here what I came up with for my "lessons learned entry." 

    

Over the past few months I have learned to be a bit more assertive. Now that I have the language abilities to offer new ideas, there is no reason to hold back. Furthermore, my relationship with my youth council is developed enough that they trust my ideas and give them honest consideration. 

     

Often, the youth council decides to have important discussions on the spot, with the goal of making a decision quickly. In the past few months, I have tried to slow down the conversation and help them develop more creative and effective ways of doing things. 

For example, in September we were responsible for advertising an event with another organization, Medicii Lumii, from Balti. The youth started to discuss the advertisment strategy by assigning someone to the task, using the same methods we always use in promoting events. I slowed the conversation and forced the youth to be more creative using a metaphor (like my program manager's use of the grapevine during last summer's PST).

After we brainstormed a list of potential advertising strategies, I assigned each person one of the strategies. I gave the youth a piece  of paper and asked them to draw a flower with the following conditions: the roots needed to represent the support/permission we would need to implement that strategy, the stem needed to represent the strategy itself, and the petals the positive outcomes that strategy could provide. After they presented "the idea garden," we chose a set of fundraising strategies that would lead to different outcomes. For example, we didn't pick two methods that would both be aimed at students, but rather a set of strategies aimed at attracting an audience from a variety of age brackets. 

My ideas work, and the youth council listens. I have learned that I just have to speak up and slow down the snap-decision making the youth council has become accustomed to with tradition.