Family Dinner

Humanity rather let me down a couple times this week, and a grumpy disposition was attempting to cut in on my usual, cheery demeanor, just when my host Mom came through the door and said, “Let’s make food! You put the water on to boil, and I’ll get the meat.”

Someday I’ll get the “Honey! I’m hooome!” kind-of caller, but for today, Maria and Fedorița were exactly what I needed. With grumpiness defeated in the end, I thought I’d relay a few of the topics that graced our typical dinner table tonight—mostly just a whole lot of humble pie with a side of comfort (in knowing  our place in this little community of ours) and concern (for what is to come of said community).

Dinner conversations:

[+] The astonishingly ridiculous idea that someone needed to rip out the heating system at Maria’s office, in the middle of winter, to build a wood/coal burning stove instead. Thus, leaving all the employees without heat, a custodial worker—because all the construction dust made her sick and she landed in the hospital--or the employee’s salaries for the last two months of work.

[+] The sad financial state of the state-owned bread factory where Maria is an accountant. Politics play a HUGE role here, but the latest analysis by the head of accounting at the firm says it’s going kaput no matter which party looks at it.  The only way she sees the factory getting itself out of this morass is to close-up shop.

 [+] Which neighbor is sick and what pills Maria gave her to try.

 [+] Why I so thoroughly enjoyed teaching a course on local fundraising in Chisinau, yesterday a)people seemed to appreciate it, b) people were generally excited about it, rather than skeptical about its ability to produce “big” enough results *hint, not all assets are monetary*

[+] The email from Gregg, the first Peace Corps Volunteer to live with my host family. He is coming for a visit soon. Maria had tears in her eyes she was so happy.

[+] How I’m going to spend the last few months at my site, working with the youth council….or more correctly, how I need to dedicate serious thought to it before it slips away.

[+] The American idiom “He is talking just to hear his own voice.” Sorry, for my safety, I probably should not tell you who we directed one towards. Also, the Moldovan idiom, “That’s life!”

[+] The neighbor Fedorița walked home with today. Fedorița thought the walk would never end because the woman never stopped gossiping the whole way. Yes, “radio baba" is rather noisy. 

Readers, serve up some of the outside dishes please! What did you and your families talk about at the last dinner table?

Meet the sun's rays

As I mentioned before the holidays, Yoel (another PCV living in my town) and I are starting to collaborate with a center for "socially vulnerable children." The beneficiaries of this center are sometimes abandoned by their families or sometimes families are unable to care for them. In either case, the idea is that is a short-term care facility. After their stay, children either go back to their families or to one of the new foster families in our district.

Yoel and I have been to the "Centru Raza Soaralui" or "Center of the Sun's Rays" a few times in the last couple weeks. Our first mission is to get to know the staff, the program, and the children. After we have a better idea of what they have and might need, the director is very eager to work with us in a development capacity. The first day we played a name game incorporating animal sounds, duck-duck-goose, and a handful of Moldovan games before the afternoon disintegrated into serious cross-examining from our little questioners.

As per their request, we came back a second day prepared to teach them a little something about America (Peace Corps' second goal, verbatim!). Yoel, prepared the history lesson--he can recite the names of all three of Columbus' ships from the 1492 voyage, in descending order by size--and I prepared to talk about my state when Yoel prompted, then do a demonstration of the "melting pot" metaphor.

Since we used the maps to explain how most American families descend from more than one culture, discussed the geography and corresponding recreational activities in different parts of the country (they drooled over the Olympic Mountains, pictured among those from my last day hike in Washington, Mount Ellinor, Memorial Day 2009), and even touched on where corn can and cannot grow in the United States, I think they understood that the United States is a big, diverse place.

Here's a fun fact I found preparing these activities, which clearly validates the continued use of the "melting pot" metaphor in the twenty-first century. According to the CIA World Factbook, the 2010 net migration rate in Moldova was -1.13 migrations/1000 people. In the United States, we welcomed +4.25 migrations/1000 people. Hence, Yoel and I repeatedly explained to these kiddos "we are a mixed people." What else is there to say?

Dumnezeu sa l-ierte | May God Forgive Him

My best friend called me at one in the morning to tell me the news. He, like other close friends and family know that Sargent Shriver became my hero after I read his biography, during my internship at the U.S. Public Service Academy.

In fact, the day after he was hospitalized, I treated my host family to a little history lesson at our dinner table. At one point, the conversation even turned to whether I could actually use the word "hero" to describe him. One said no, because I never met him. Another said yes, and used my history lesson and the fact that I am a beneficiary of the program he created to support her arguments.

All of the stories I shared about Shriver came from his 2004 biography by Stossel. I think all Peace Corps Volunteers should read it, but by now I am surely a broken record on that. Peace Corps Volunteers in Moldova can also go back to the September edition of the Grapevine, where I gushed admiration for Shriver and his biography.

I don't really know how to honor him, to celebrate his life and accomplishments. Please take a moment to watch this video. Only a 1,700 people have watched this clip on You Tube, but millions will watch dogs dance the macarana. I think we have a problem, but we'll discuss it another day...After seeing the video, I think it's relatively easy to understand why he once came to say, "Being accused of enthusiasm is something I'll never live down."

Rest in peace Mr. Shriver. 

Romanian: Two countries, one language?

Shortly after the arrival of 2011, I took a three-day trip to Transylvania with three Peace Corps Moldova colleagues. This is a shot I snapped from inside the infamous Bran Castle. Heard of Dracula, anyone?

The border crossings between Moldova and Romania are frequented by Peace Corps Volunteers with relative ease, since most (but not all!) study the Romanian language during our Pre-Service Training. I say we are taught Romanian during training, specifically, because once we leave training, some volunteers find it necessary (or more desirous) to deviate their studies from clean-cut Romanian to "Moldovaneste." Discussing language can lead to a rather political argument, but we'll leave that for someone else to un-pack.

Put one way, it's village speak. Put another way, it is a dialect that makes it easy for Romanians at universities and tourist spots to pick out the Moldovans. Moldovaneste tends to include Russian nouns, 'b' sounds dropped for the grunting 'g' sound, and words for fruits and vegetables that you will not find in a Romanian nor Russian dictionary.

My host family and neighbors will sometimes ask me to speak Moldovaneste for sport, entertainment for the crew painting a fence, or as a sort of 'party trick' that gets new acquaintances laughing. But for the most part, I work and live in a place that is perfect for the Romanian I was taught and continue to study every.single.day.

Thus, traveling in Romania is appealing because it's a foreign culture that I neither live in, nor rely on English for during my visit. This trip was the longest consecutive stretch of time I've stayed in Romania, and as the days went by, so too did my confidence as a "Romanian" speaker.

Menus with foods I didn't recognize. Signs I couldn't fully understand. Words necessary for our ski trip that honestly, I've never had to encounter in Moldova (and being the over-confident one that I am, I didn't bring a dictionary).

Okay, I concede to being a bit over-the-top....and almost everyone we encountered was fascinated by our group of American, Romanian speaking volunteers, from Moldova. Once, we found a cabby that spoke our language. The minute we mention Moldova, he abandons 'b' sounds for 'g' sounds and proceeds to tell us everything he knows about Moldova (a whole other story!).

I probably could have added 40 words to my Romanian repertoire, if only I'd had a Romanian dictionary on that trip. But then again, would those new words have been any use to me on this side of the border? Therein lies the Romanian question.

Eastern Orthodox New Year

According to the Eastern Orthodox calendar, I am obliged to wish you all a new year greeting. That makes today New Year's eve and tomorrow the start of the new year, marked on Saint Vasile's Day. The boys in this photo are my frisbee mates during the spring and summer. Tonight they came to wish us a happy new year in the same style as the boys in the short film from last year--by reciting one the poems that have memorized. It's called "urătura" (oo-ra-toora), and as you can see from last year, it's more of a chant really, and always accompanied by a bell. Also, as I mentioned before, this tradition resembles Halloween a bit, in the sense that after the children recite the appropriate greeting, the host/hostess dishes out candy, money, and loaves of celebratory bread (colac). They even come ready with bags to stow all the goods.

I read up on what all this sing-song is about in National Traditions (Capcelea Valeriu, 1998. Chisinau, Moldova: Evrica 70, 74.), which I received on my birthday. Below is what I learned, translated and summarized for your reading pleasure. If it sounds like an abundance of idyllic notions, it is. But imagine it full of rolling 'r' sounds and rapid-fire diphthongs and you have the Romanian language.

"The urătura is a new year's greeting extolling the homemakers, farmers, and livestock keepers. It is a greeting for those that love work, and for those that provide for the rest of us. It glorifies the work of the country people, who are charged with caring for the sanctity of the land. It is to celebrate him with  sweat on his forehead as he ensures us rich fruits and an abundance of everything. 


Modern verses may also include wishes for success in the recipient's village, and for those born in the coming year. The urătura always ends with a verse for the good of humankind, for everyone to have rich fruits, and to be happy and healthy in the new year."

Tomorrow morning, the children will come again. This part of the Moldovan New Year's celebration is called, "the sowing" (may the agrarian tradition continue as long as the soil will support it!). The children will recite another poem, and throw grain on our threshold as they do. Tomorrow's "sowing" may go something like the poem Capcelea included in my book:

To snow
To rain, 
To morning dew drops,
And for wheat to bud,
Rich with fruit!
To bring us hope
While passing through danger.
So children will grow,
And flower for many years
Like apples,
Like pears,
In the middle of summer
And in springtime.
Strong like stone,
Quick like an arrow,
Strong like iron,
Hot like steal.
To this year and many to come!


I'm sure most children will come deliver lines like this because their mothers compel them. But unlike why I can't tell you why fruitcake is an American Christmas item, I can tell you why the tradition of "the sowing" began, at least, according to Capcelea.

"In the old days, it was considered that children needed to learn how to plant the seeds necessary for bread--the source of life and joy--to love the animals, and now how to grow them." 


So how about a verse for the animals too?

For the lives of oxen and cattle
And your life also
To this year and many to come
With good health!
To be everything well!

[Orthodox] Christmas

The only thing truly Orthodox about my second Christmas experience, in Moldova, was my host brother's recitation of the "Our Father" prayer before our meal. He said it so fast I hardly understood! After that, it was just one big day of celebration. My 80 year old host-grandmother, Liuba, consistently and gently reminded us that in fact, we were given the chance to have this celebration because of the Lord's birth. Her sharp wit is a sure sign that she is feeling well and strong these days.

 For the celebration at our house, my host brothers came from the capital city, a family of cousins came from a village in the district south of ours, and a couple more cousins from here in town. This was my first chance to meet the newest addition in the family, six-month-old, Severina. Watching Liuba hold her great-granddaughter was a treat, until I started doing the math and realized just how many years behind I must be if I ever want to meet my great-grandchildren! I'm thinking that's a no-go...

While I was in the United States for western/commercial Christmas, it was brought to my attention that I have never discussed the key food that graces our celebration tables. Pictured here, is racitoare. Maria prepares it for every major holiday meal, except Easter (when we have lamb) and any feasts taking place during a religious fast. It is prepared by boiling roosters, and contains a lot of salt. The meat is arranged on the plates before the hot liquid is poured over it. The gelatin sets rather quickly, particularly if it is kept cold. To convey how regarded the dish is, let me just say that right after I snapped this shot, Vitalie scooped up half of this platter and put it on his plate. There were four more platters just like it on the table.

The medical team at Peace Corps tells host families that volunteers do not eat this dish, like we don't drink water straight from the well. Though, I know of volunteers who really like it, for my taste, it is far too salty and I only tasted it for the first time when I was visiting someone new, and it was the only thing they served besides bread. 

In my host family, we exchanged gifts the moment people walked in the door. Vitalie blew me away with this beautiful gift....two bottles of collectors' wine from Milesti Mici. In fact, he said, the wine is from the year of your birth! Although he missed the year by one, 1987 is hand-written on a special label. After spending 13 years in barrels 70 meters underground, it was bottled in 2000 (and will fly home with me in November). Merci mult, Vitalie!! Go here to read about my trip to Milesti Mici, which according to the Guinness Book of World Records, owns the world's largest wine collection. 

As my host brother's were headed to their car, the Popa Family called me to say, "Come carol to us in 20 minutes!" The night before, they taught me my first Moldovan Carol. It's a story about wanting to go caroling, but after getting to the house we realize that the hosts aren't home because they went to the market to sell a goat. In the end, the don't sell a goal, but manage to sell a cute little bunny for someone to make a man's winter hat. 

Upon my arrival, I quickly sing the song (through fits of giggles and pushing away the thought of how much better my voice sounds when I drive alone, in the car, with the music up loud and the windows down). For my effort and the second time that day, someone pushed 50 lei (about four dollars) in my pocket saying, "tradition, tradition, it's tradition, Melissa. Take the money."

The whole evening was incredibly memorable, but it is a wonder, since Aurel kept pouring and sharing the gift I brought him from my Dad and his buddy that runs the state liquor store in Purdy, Washington--one bottle of Wild Turkey. I assumed, apparently in error, that being of my gender I would not  be subjected to drinking it. The whole bottle lasted 40 minutes. Maybe Aurel just really likes getting gifts. Here, he's wearing the apron my Mom actually sewed for his wife, and holding the "best father" mug Yoel got him in Romania.

The evening's entertainment:

For the sake of not writing a novel, I'll leave the rest of the evening to be conveyed through the photo-slideshow. Check it out for my first accordion lesson, more racitoare, more gifts, and the adorable couple Aurel kept taking pictures of saying, "53 years together and they still have a marriage of love." Merry Christmas everyone!

Back to my community

After being on vacation in both the United States and Romania, I am happy to arrive back in my community today. The bus driver was rather grumpy (putting it politely), but a nice man shared a cab into town with me (since we were dropped off an hour walk from my house) and refused to let me pay. He left the money with the cabby when he got out, wishing me a merry Christmas as he did.

Tomorrow is the beginning of Orthodox Christmas.

So, in the newly rekindled spirit of holiday cheer, I called up the Popa family and invited myself over to deliver some Christmas gifts. In this photo, Aura is modeling the purse that my talented mother sewed her (Doina has one too!).  The strap doubles-up through the two silver circles and can be worn as a shoulder bag. Mom, the girls loved them!!

For Angela, I brought a made-by-my-mom apron with a poinsettia motif. She put it on right away, and then Aurel stole it! Everyone really liked the Brown & Haley Almond Roca (made in the Pacific Northwest) too.

Finally, a bottle of Kentucky's more popular whiskey for Aurel and Yoel, the men of the house. I don't really know how to drink it, my dad helped pick it out when I was home, and it's very American. There is a turkey on the front, and Yoel is very excited.