Onward

This week, there were a lot of sharp turns in the road, some more expected than others. But in any case, the week is finally going to end tomorrow and I think I can say with confidence that all the week's developments actually lend a straighter road for the remainder of my service.

As my mother is fond of telling me, "That's life, not just the Peace Corps, and not just in Moldova."

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.

Count 'em!

The transfer of skills and knowledge continues at the local youth council…Today we held an open house, inviting all youth in town to come see what we are up to, and what we are all about. The open house idea is not a new one, in terms of volunteer recruitment, at our organization. But the fact that we got it right today is a big accomplishment for the new leadership team. Last fall, we did okay in recruitment. In the spring, we pretty much failed, bringing in only one new face to the open house. Today’s record total (at least in my service, with this generation of youth leaders)—19 potential new volunteers in our town. Woot!

To get that many new people to our center and that many shoes at our doorstep, we stepped up our advertising scheme a bit. Two days ago, I met the vice-president of the youth council and went to her old elementary/middle-school and spoke with students in three classes. Our excellent turn-out means that a full third of the students we spoke to were convinced to come today.

Of course, everyone already knows that coming to the center means making new friends and having fun…here’s a clip from a trust-building exercise that turned into an abdominal workout for those who couldn’t stop laughing.

And the other reasons youth gave for coming to our open house: to learn public speaking, to use my free-time effectively, to learn about youth development, to work as a volunteer.

YIKES! I think they are going to like it here…

I had plans, then suc happened

I really did have good intentions about LSAT studying and email writing tonight. But how could I turn down an invite from my favorite neighbors to help make the last batch of this year's adjika (a spicy tomato sauce)? The whole process starts with tomato juice ('suc') pressing, and as you can see in the photo, Aura and I took the lead on that little project. Later, we ended up pressing hot and sweet peppers, garlic, and a ginger-like root too. It took all night!

Getting to know this family has been one of the highlights of my service (as if I haven't already explained that here, here, and here). Through our tears of laughter tonight, Doina, the oldest daughter, put into words exactly how reciprocal this relationship has been. "Melissa," she started, "even if I'm in a bad mood and I think I don't want to see anyone, when you come we end up giggling and I forget about everything else!" If only you could have all been there to see her point around the room and mark the ridiculousness of the evening. She was sewing plastic sacks together to haul the corn in from the fields tomorrow, on little Singer machine, while her kid sister walked around the house with shaving cream on her hand because she supposed it would sooth the hot pepper burns she received from the juicing process, and their shirtless father somehow manages to nail every single punch line in-between the adjika taste-testing.

So, I guess the LSAT studying will still be there in the morning. People keep asking me how much longer I have in Moldova. I've heard it so much it makes me want to scream A WHOLE YEAR, STOP ASKING! But, I guess it's actually less than that now. At the risk of sounding sentimental, today was a really great fall day for my book of Moldova memories. 

Oh, and in this last photo is my new site-mate Yoel. He happens to be living with this awesome family. I don't think he was much into the juice pressing, but he does impress my host mom by wearing that fancy suit everyday. That's Doina and Angela sitting in front of him...they are reading the fancy article published about him in the local newspaper. The article is 40% about Yoel's awesome experience thus far with his host family. How's that for warm and fuzzies?

Fall musings of a PCV

This is a photo of the largest Church in the center of Chisinau that I snapped last Friday (maybe my first photo ever in Chisinau?). I was sitting on a bench people watching and waiting for my friend, Mihaela, to arrive. Mihaela used to be the president of the Local Youth Council, but recently started her first year at the state university in Chisinau, where she’s majoring in accounting. Since I was in the big city, I decided it would be a good time to take out my new student out for a congratulatory treat. We are literally, one in the same! I took her to the French pastry shop, and told her to order whatever she wanted. She promptly skipped the pastry and went for the gelato—tiramisu to be exact. I knew I liked that girl....

What I thought would be a short afternoon rendezvous soon turned into a long-almost-late-to-the-next-engagement-kinda-day. I think I got a taste of what parents go through when dropping off the kid to freshman year [whoa!]. After the gelato, we hit up a few different book stands on the main street, scouting out a French-Romanian dictionary, bought a birthday gift for one of her three roommates, and then found ourselves looking at a map because apparently, freshman orientation in Moldova just isn’t like the overzealous hand-holding on American campuses, “Melissa,” Mihaela wimpered, “I don’t know where my dorm is!”

The rest of Friday and Saturday were filled with my own version of trick-or-treat through the Peace Corps Office: Mid-service medical exam, language exam, dental appointment, program manager chat, committee meetings, and …oh yea, a [American] football game!

I waited all week for this game. The crisp fall air has me suddenly yearning for the fight song [Go Cougs!], touchdowns, and wearing jeans again. 

But I guess others even took the chance to catch up on some other American hobbies thanks to a recent arrival of gag rags [Yup, that was more than enough time spent hearing about Chelsea Clinton’s nuptials!]

As fall is most definitely here and cliche change is in the air, it too is present in the Peace Corps Moldova community. This was my first round of weekend meetings with the new volunteers participating, and I think I have to quit calling them "new." It is going to be a ridiculously wild next couple of months--we're talking trainings, orientations, and meet 'n greets GALORE--but I'm really excited to be working with some of the recent additions to our teams. Fresh faces. Fresh ideas. But most of all, fresh enthusiasm. Wish us luck!

My favorite place in my favorite host country

I'm overflowing with love for Moldova after two days of fresh village air, delicious grapes, and honest work. On day one, Fedorita and I headed out to prepare the gate and fence for it's first paint job in over ten years. As we worked, we received the standard "May God help you" salutation, to which, the answer is always, "yes, with God." About every third person delivering this greeting turned out to be a cousin. Got to love the village! Whenever I go there, I know we are going to work hard and laugh harder.

For instance, as the sun eventually slipped away from view on the first day, Bunica Liuba (a recurring character on this blog) heated up a pot of water for me to wash my feet. Of course, I was told to go first, and as I wrapped up, Fedorita told me not to look for the towel, "if you dry your feet, you dry away your luck," she said.

Well, Bunica Liuba was not in any mood to let me stand there on the cement with wet feet and before I knew it her hands were flying in the air, only to fall quickly to my feet, which she dried while exclaiming, "the girl is too lucky as it is! Let me dry her feet!"