Melt winter, melt!

Today was the second day in a row of absolute, unadulterated sunshine. Though it's probably too early to work on this year's freckles, I set out anyway to give it a try. These are just some snapshots from around town.

The sun feels amazing. Melt winter, melt!

To each cook, his own kitchen

In this picture, you can see my entire kitchen. Our townhouse is small, having exactly four rooms of almost equal size.

But in the village, the soul of Moldova, it is much more common for kitchens to be separated from the rest of the houses.

Below are some photos I snapped of a colleague's kitchen, while he prepared some scrumptious curried chickpeas for our dinner. We also made a couple trips to the cellar, where another colleagued risked the future use of his fingers by pulling pickles out of their freezing liquid with his bare hands. Ever heard of a fork, Mr. Laurie?

This kitchen is pretty typical of a village home. Since it's not actually in the house, to me it feels a little like cooking in the garage. Where my Dad might hang coiled extension cords and a collection of wrenches on a wall, this kitchen is bedecked with pots and pans. 

It's also unheated. In the summer, that is a great method of keeping the home cool. In winter, it means we exchanged house slippers for regular shoes and I donned one of the thick winter vests for the duration of our cooking. 

"The vest is better for cooking," explained my host when he brought me this vest instead of my coat, "no sleeves to get in the way."



Just like we should have anticipated, this meal (with two Moldovans and three Americans) quickly digressed into a tri-lingual spectacle that only we, Peace Corps Volunteers and our Moldovan friends, think is entertaining. Everyone arrived at the house that day from different locations, somewhat road fatigued and attempting to fight off the common cold. So, fits of laughter would quickly turn into fits of coughing, thereby inducing more laughter given that the coughing because of the laughter was just that hilarious.

"And that is why we are Volunteers," declared my colleague. "That is world peace and friendship, right there."

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.

Gifting the Third Goal

I wrote this post before leaving for Christmas vacation (I’m back HOME for a few days, meeting the newest member of my family)! If all goes according to plan, it should be published the day after Christmas, so as to not spoil any surprises from under the tree!

Peace Corps’ third goal is to share host country cultures with Americans back home. Thus, I offer you some of Moldova’s best, which yesterday you would have found under my family’s Christmas tree.

House wine and a single shot glass:

This wine is a gift from my oldest host brother, Mulțumim Vitalie! Typically, Vitalie bottles at least a portion of his wine in glass bottles, but he is one of the few that practices that for house wine. To be perfectly honest, most simply can’t afford it. What you see here is quite typical, a recycled plastic water bottle that he has filled from the barrels in his cellar. Everyone in Moldova will tell you that their house wine is the best. Though, I’ve had Vitalie’s several times now and the pitcher always seems to run dry...

The shot glass is something I purchased at the local market for three Moldovan lei ($0.24 USD). I procured this glass to accompany our wine because, as explained before, one glass is really all you need! Passing the wine is a customary. It doesn’t really matter if the guests are attempting to leave your house after a feast, it doesn’t matter if people are headed to a wedding celebration next, or if you are the host/hostess and you are exhausted. The passing of wine completes any engagement.

One person, usually the head of the household, is in control of the wine pitcher, and a circle is seamlessly formed. The controller of the pitcher will take a shot of wine and give an event appropriate toast. Toasting to health and happiness is always appropriate, but if it’s a wedding celebration,  then most people toast to lots of children, health for those children, and for the bride to acquire all the skills of a good housewife.

After that person drinks his/her shot, the glass is refilled and handed off to the next person. And so the passing of wine goes until at least one pitcher has been emptied. If people are having a good time....it’s always easy to run to the cellar and fill another!

Hand woven carpet:

Given the number of sheep in Moldova, it’s no wonder that carpet-making is held in high-regard. In most Moldovan homes, carpets cover both the floors and walls.

This carpet is small, so I don’t imagine my mother will hang it on a wall anytime soon, but it was custom made for her by an acquaintance of mine, Ecaterina Popescu. Check out her site here, in Romanian or English, but be sure to have your pop-up blocker disabled. Hoping that my Mom will actually display the carpet (either in this house or a retirement cabin on a lake in the woods), I asked Ecaterina for something incorporating the color blue and one of her less busy patterns.

It’s winter time too, so check out the snowy carpet washing I learned from my host family.

Chocolates and tea:

Moldovans love their novelty chocolate and their tea. There is really only one candy company from Moldova, so that is where I collected this variety of sweets to share with friends and family back home. I also snagged some “Green Melissa.” Melissa is a fragrant herb that many women grow in their gardens for tea. Unfortunately, this Melissa isn't originally from Molova, but I think the idea still counts (Russian, I believe). 

Sometimes when people ask me to repeat my name, I say to them “Melissa, you know…like the tea.” 

Feasting during fast

As per Orthodox custom, we host a special meal each year to commemorate the death of Maria's husband. Last year, we held the event on the actual anniversary of his death. But a combination of things prompted us to have the "praznic" early.

First, the praznic is required for the first seven years after someone dies. This is the seventh year, and as such, there are a few extra customs, including a home visit by the priest to carry out a few of the appropriate rituals. Since Costel died on January 7, Orthodox Christmas, the priest would be unavailable to come to our home if we waited to do the praznic in January.

Interestingly enough, we decided to hold the praznic during the 40-day fast leading up to Christmas. During this time, many Moldovans adhere to a strictly vegan diet. No meat. No sour cream. No homemade cheese. 

The vegan twist on Maria's usual fair limited the number of fried foods that would be gracing our table, so most of it was actually cooked on our wood stove, or what we call our "soba."

Stewed potatoes and mushrooms in place of fried meat dishes.

"Sarmale" or "Galuși" prepared without meat.

White beans with sauteed onions and tomatoes in leu of what Peace Corps Volunteers commonly refer to as the "chicken jello" was a welcome change.

This year's pickles, shredded beets, and spicy carrots.

Rolled cabbage pastries, walnut pastries, and apples baked with rose-petal jam and sour cherries. No vegan changes there, just classic Maria goodness.

Desert of boiled rice with sugar, fresh orange juice, orange zest, and white raisins. Usually this dish is prepared sans orange deliciousness and with milk, instead of water as a cooking agent.

And at the end of the day...Fedorița and I know our place in the kitchen organizing and washing, organizing and drying, organizing and re-shelving the dishes. The presence of a dishwasher in this house would actually have meant that she and I would have spent far less time together. O iubesc matușika mea!

Unwilling to be disappointed

With the planning complete, my guides to working with youth thoroughly adorned in sticky notes, and diplomas for participation printed by my colleague, I headed south this week to help two fellow volunteers facilitate a youth experience exchange.

For the youth from these two villages, we planned an exchange that would quite intentionally direct them to clear action plans in the projects they have already selected. One group has a problem, but is seeking an appropriate solution. The other has a solution that needs to be fine-tuned for optimum success and sustainability. By mixing the groups and conducting two separate activities (one for each of the respective projects, in their respective stages of development), we hoped to expose both groups to tools appropriate for both needs. And finally, end the evening with a small disco-tech, as requested by all the involved parties.

The hour before we were to depart from one village to the other, I quickly lost track of the number of phone calls my colleague, Zach, was fielding. Partner teacher. School director. Bus driver. Youth. Until finally, despite our best intentions, we had to resign to the decision by the school district to cancel all extracurricular activities in the region due to the poor weather conditions (something Zach and I had been ignoring all day, unwilling to admit that the event might be in danger).

We allowed ourselves a few moments of despair, but I absolutely refuse to be disappointed about this site-visit. And the youth exchange WILL happen shortly after the holidays.

Zach is a volunteer in the Health Education in Schools and Communities program. This means his program manager assigned him to partners at both the school and local health center. In Zach's first six months at site, he's also began working with partners at the social cantina, a kind of soup kitchen for elderly members of the community. I learned so much about the Peace Corps experience of my health education colleagues by spending this day and a half in his village. I think they have the best of both worlds: a set schedule and routine at the school, plus flexibility to build capacity and meet the needs of the communities through the health centers.

For more on what it means to be a health education volunteer in Peace Corps Moldova, check out part one and part two of Zach's recent discussion on this.

Winter Work

Beautiful shots like this really are a part of winter. Despite the cold, it's almost always post-card perfect during a Moldovan winter.

Work life can be a little more difficult in winter, January is packed with holidays, offices like mine are cold, and because it gets dark so early, we go home much earlier. As such, I made a list of the major projects I'm planning to tackle this winter. I freely encourage your questions as to how they progress.

[+] Children's center programming: In my town, there is a center for children whose families are not able to care for them. The children aren't orphans, per say, because the idea is that after a few months the children can move back home. My sitemate and I are going to spend some time getting to know this center's ins-and-outs. After doing a bit of research on similar centers, my hypothesis is that this center isolates these kids from the rest of the community. After doing some investigating, my sitemate and I are seriously interested in helping them initiate a peer mentor program (think big brothers/big sisters) with other youth in the community. 

[+] Defining the role of youth service providers: Another service provider was added to the mix this week. The phone call I received this week went something like this: "Hello, is your name Melissa? I am the new director of the youth center. When can you come show me around the center?"

[+] Spreading youth council goodness: This comes in many parts. Next week, I travel down south to help two volunteers facilitate an "experience exchange" between their two youth groups. For as much as I travel to this southeastern district, I'd say soon the bus drivers and I will be on a pretty solid acquaintance. In January, a few other volunteers are coming to my site to observe our youth council elections. After that, I'll head to another youth group in central Moldova (hopefully with some of my volunteers), to continue spreading the benefits of volunteerism.

[+] Reading good books, drinking hot wine, and and attending lots and lots of holiday parties....

Because he wasn't going to celebrate...

Lemon bars are absolutely not a Jewish tradition...just plain tasty.

WORLD AIDS DAY

Somewhere around December 1, 2009, a member of the youth council read about World AIDS Day events on the internet and wanted to see something done here, in our town. Not that an informational campaign isn't useful at anytime, but due to the lateness of the request, the idea never caught on at the council...the moment passed. Moreover, the youth council members would have struggled to put together a campaign on an issue they themselves knew very little about. 

Thus, I am happy to report the success of World AIDS Day 2010, a three-part story.

Part One: Getting Informed

Peace Corps applicants are told that they will probably work in HIV/AIDS prevention at some point during their service, no matter the field of work. It's a worldwide Peace Corps initiative. But in Moldova, due to strict regulations regarding what can be taught in the classroom on the subject, it isn't exactly an area where we are encouraged to seek work. 

Thus, my politically correct strategy for getting the youth informed on the issue was to call in a third-party expert. Tinerii pentru Dreptul la Viață (Youth for the Right to Life), an organization from a neighboring city, is an organization with which we were already acquainted from our mutual participation in a human trafficking prevention event. 

Why it took a political loop hole for me to consider calling in a Moldovan expert to speak to Moldovan youth on this issue, I have no idea. Corina presented the information better, more fluently, and more creatively than I ever could. She's done this seminar hundreds of times, and it shows in all the best ways.  I particularly appreciated how she took the time to describe every word and definition in the acronyms HIV/SIDA. As we discussed immunity with the group, she clarified her point using an umbrella. A normal functioning umbrella protects us from the rain. A damaged umbrella, like a deficient immune system, fails to protect us.

By the end of the seminar the group felt comfortable with Corina and the information she was sharing. We sat around the table and I watched a quizzical look come across an eighth grade girl's face...

"Miss Corina, I have a question...where did the HIV come from?" She managed.
"Well, there are some theories," Corina started, before a tenth grader interjected.
"From the homosexuals of course!" The tenth grader stated.
"But, where...I mean from whom did the homosexuals get it in the beginning?" The eight grader fired back.

Watching Moldovans react to subjects like these is fascinating. In America, we have (mostly) sensitized ourselves to these issues. The generation of Moldovan youth I work with is just starting to question if sensitization is something they want for their country, for their culture. Guess what? They don't all agree.

Part Two: Preparing the Information

The day before World AIDS day, volunteers prepared materials for the street campaign. While some painted signs, others worked on finding a maxim to post around town, I translated a fact sheet to be printed, and everyone got quizzed by yours truly on the facts.

Not only did I ask the youth who attended the previous week's seminar to repeat pertinent facts, but we also worked through a basic HIV/AIDS Quiz I found online. Between the quiz and the expert opinion, there was still at least one volunteer believing that HIV is contractible from mosquitoes. But to be honest, as long as she understood all the other ways you can definitely contract the disease, I'm happy to hear the group argue and repeat the facts.

Part Three: Disseminating the Information

   

Finally, on World AIDS Day 2010, we took to the snowy streets with our signs, brochures, fact sheets, ribbons, and positive energy. Since the snow seemed to fall heavier by the minute, I can't say this is our most successful campaign (in terms of numbers of people we actually spoke with), but we stayed out there until all our materials had been distributed. When I got home, my host mom said that thing again...

"Melissa, your eyes are smiling! Where have you been?!"

Patience is a ...

Well, winter isn't giving up over here. It snowed last night---again. But as much as my host Mom and I laugh and lament about the drawn out winter, there was a day last week where I succeeded to wash and dry my clothes in one day. So I will let spring and summer duke it out a bit longer, the real goal here is get to my vacation in May.

If you haven't heard yet, I'm headed to Greece for a solid two weeks. I managed to plan overnight transportation for about a third of that, so I anticipate a slightly exhausting, yet budget smart trip of a lifetime!

When I went to Prague, I all too easily fell into the role of tourist, didn't learn one word of Czech. This trip, though, I think I'll be a bit more prepared. I downloaded some quick Greek lessons from itunes to get me through the typical meal in a restaurant, the common courtesy stuff, etc. Most of all, I can't wait to get a tan. Come to think of it, I think I have wrote about this on the blog, sorry for the repeat, I'm just too excited!

At work, my hands are in a dozen little things right now, just waiting for one to catch. Speaking of which...my phone just rang and I guess I have a meeting with the youth council in 30 minutes. Since I live 30 minutes away, I better get a move on!

Winter, winter go away! Come again another day!

So when you get an email from a dear friend that says "I can't wait to read your new blog posts"...you know it's time to write some. Honestly, the last couple of weeks haven't been overly exciting. But I am just praying the above freezing temps are here to stay, along with the sun we've been blessed with recently. I have decided that human beings, do in fact use photosynthesis to take energy from the sun. When I get the chance to see the sun these days, I have no qualms with skipping the morning coffee and going outside to walk myself (because in Romanian, taking a walk just doesn't make sense).

The sun came just in time because last week was a tough one. Winter started to get the best of me, but now that I can see the proverbial light in my tunnel's end, all is on the mend. Though, I admit, vacation planning is probably responsible for 60 percent of my improvement this week. I'm going to meet Mom and Dad in Greece! Eu vreau sa ma bronzez. I want a tan!

The rough times do have a way of bringing people together though. I have made some pretty good friends here in Peace Corps Moldova. I especially appreciate the ones who, like me, get down only because they feel like they aren't doing enough, not that they don't have anything to do. We have to be self-starters in the COD program. On a daily basis, I am accountable only to myself.

Since my work at the youth center has been a little slow, I've actually spent a good deal of time on my language this week. I met with a Peace Corps tutor in Balti last weekend to study vocabulary for human trafficking. Then about 10 of us participated in a two-day refresher course that Peace Corps offered, this week. Just past the six month mark.

I feel a trace of guilt because I sometimes think that my secondary project (with the anti-human trafficking organization) is more interesting than my primary project. In some ways, I feel more productive there too. I've always loved constitutional law, but I've come to think of human rights issues as constitutional law applied to all people in all spaces. And when I mean all people, I don't mean Locke's people. I mean ALL people.

So there's a quick update. Stay tuned. A speech I was supposed to give last October recently got rescheduled for next weekend. Timely, I know. So maybe that will make for an interesting post. I kind of hope someone records it so I can count the mistakes.

Oh, and if you are one of the new invitees to Peace Corps Moldova, congrats! Felicitari! See you soon in the 'Dova!

Soare cu dinți | Sun with teeth

Below zero Moldovan days that are accompanied by sunshine and blue skies are said to be days when the sun shines with teeth. I think I would like to both steal and amend this expression to apply to my next day on the ski hill (however far away that might be), I think we should say "sun with skis"...it was all I could think about today!

Saint John's Day | Sf. Ion

The last of the winter holidays, at least according to my host mother, is Saint John's day. Usually on these holidays that are named after a specific person, you only celebrate it if there is someone in your family that shares that namesake. For instance, on Sf. Maria day, everyone brings flowers to my host mother because that is her name too. But Sf. Ion is a bit different and as I walked in the snow showers with Maria to the cemetery on Wednesday morning we talked about the reason we celebrate Sf. Ion. She told me the story of John baptizing Jesus in the water, as if I was hearing it for the very first time. In many ways I was, because religious vocabulary is not something I hear that often in Romanian. It's difficult to tell what is going on in this first picture, but all those people are standing around a long table covered in the customary offerings (bread, candles, candy, wine). The priest is the young man with the beard in the center. Pretty much the only men with facial hair in Moldova are the men of the Church.

Since we arrived a little late, we stayed back from the big table and cleared Domnul Costel's (Maria's husband) grave of the snow and lit candles. When the second table was being prepared, Maria went to offer our bread and wine. As you can see, it was snowing pretty good that day, Maria said it deterred people from coming out to the cemetery. But to me, seeing a hundred people in a snowy cemetery on a Wednesday morning is pretty impressive. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these Eastern Orthodox traditions are admirable. They convey so much respect for the elderly and the dead.

I have a friend that questions whether or not it is right that even people who lived life pretty inhumanly deserve to be venerated in death. It's an interesting question to ponder, but I don't care to comment on my opinion here. Though, I did have an interesting conversation with a Moldovan girl recently who criticized the Church for being extraneous. "I believe in God," she said, "but I don't need the priest to tell me how to convey my faith." I should have asked her if she just came of the Mayflower.

Anyway, later that day Maria and I went to a neighbor's house for dinner. We can't go empty handed and Maria had been asking me to make an apple crisp, so it was the perfect opportunity. My instincts were correct when I heard that the purpose of the meal was to get to know the two daughters who want to study English with me. They worked on English with another PCV over the summer. I have to be gone next week, so I told them the next week I would go back with my recently inherited scrabble board.

But in anycase, I am happy to get to know another family in my neighborhood. The wife works at a public office in town, making sure employers follow employment laws and the like. The husband is the boss of the local market where I buy (recently) oranges and pomegranates. The two daughters are 17 and 11 years old. Teenagers are teenagers all over the world, but the 11 year old still has an innocence that I adore. Quite the artist too. She crochets, cross stitches, draws, and made a collage out of pencil shavings. Reminds me of when I used to love to get those craft kits for Christmas, like the kind from Toys*R*Us.

Maria originally said she didn't want to stay long, but not until the nine o'clock hour did we finally start to say our good byes. The conversation was great, lots of hard questions that can't be answered definitively. Mostly about language, politics, and corruption. But even about how Maria's employer (she is an accountant at the bread factory) is struggling with competition--a focal point of the capitalism that Moldovans admire about America, but are still learning how to endure. I like these conversations a lot. Sometimes, if the conversation is not interesting, my mind wanders, and since it's not my native language, it's a lot harder to rejoin the conversation. I usually have to wait until the subject changes. I have a language exam coming up next month, so it's time to get my study on!

Colleague Spotlight

Click on here to check out the great photos from one of my colleagues in the Agriculture and Rural Business Development program. Neal did a great job capturing what Moldovans refer to as those "sun with teeth days." That's when the sun is out, but you are freezing because well, it's "iarna deverata acuma."

First Snow at "Progres"

Radio Baba

I honestly thought “radio baba” was a joke among Peace Corps Volunteers. I had no idea Moldovans were the ones that let us in on it! The box that my friend is modeling so well is meant to hold all the youth council’s gossip, bad jokes, and hilarious memories. For the record, there are two others as well, one for Christmas wishes, and one for small greeting cards for fellow volunteers at the council. The contents of the three boxes will be revealed at the New Year’s party next week.

Radio baba is the most effective means of communication one has ever encountered that is no more technologically advanced than a touch tone telephone. Basically, let one baba know what you’re up to, and legend has it your whole town can know by the day’s end. In the training village, we witnesses this each morning as the babas delivered their goats to the field and proceeded to share their latest. Eat your heart out Twitter.

Winter culture note: Carpet cleaning

I never thought I would write a blog post about carpet cleaning, but believe me I have just witnessed (and participated in) my third method of carpet cleaning since I arrived in Moldova. I am here to say, this last method is bar far the most effective, and not just because it’s fun.

Last Saturday, we stripped our floors bear when my host mom announced “spălăm covoare în zăpadă!” (“We are washing carpets in the snow!”).

In the picture you can see, much like one of those really long saws used to cut down large trees, two people wield the carpet back and forth, pushing it deeper in the snow. I would not lie ladies and gentlemen… this was effective, as told by the stains left in the snow.

The second step in the process is the typical beating, followed by a day in the afternoon sun. I dare say those carpets took a better bath than me this week!

Winter culture note: Heating

I rather over looked this point of interest until I dropped the word “soba” on a phone call home and found the receiver quite confused. Most Moldovan homes, though not all and certainly not the apartments, are heated by a soba.

They all pretty much look the same, a little different than your average wood burning stove in the States. Here is the soba from the main corridor in our house. We just lit it for the first time over the weekend (our primary source of heat is gas). We burned wood and various bits of garbage (normal) including papers, old rags, etc. Families who use the soba as the primary source of heat tend to purchase coal if it can be afforded.

This is how the heat is conducted through the house. The adjoining walls (including this one in my bedroom) are tiled, and radiate heat into the room. Usually, the soba is lit once a day, and not stoked once it is finished. It is a lot of work! It took my host mother’s sister about an hour each time she lit the soba. Though no complaints here, I could probably grow an avocado tree in my room at night (well, minus the whole ultraviolet light necessity). Quite toasty indeed.

There is also a legend about the infamous “lejanca.” I have a colleague whose family has a bed built on top of a soba. It is a large, family style bed that has enough room for all. In the winter, many families are all about consolidation. Heating one room for all to sleep in is much more efficient than heating a whole house.