Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Ljubljana 1

Day 1
Slovenian keyboards have several extra letters. The punctuation keys are everywhere. It is good times. Extra letters:

š č ć ž đ

and y and z are swapped.

Otherwise the train yesterday was ideal. Many games were played. We slept well in our hostel last night and are the only people HERE. Even the owner is just hanging out up stairs with his sick girlfriend instead of tending his establishment.

Plans: to drink coffee. To find and walk over really pretty bridges.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Budapesti

Forgive the bullet points. The hostel has 1 computer and many Asians.

Unexpected closures of everything in Iasi led us on a wild goose chase for some fun looking place to hang out and talk to locals about the history of the area, and what people do there now. We did find a castle, and one of Stefan Cel Mare's little churches, but not much else. After walking with out baggage (baggage storage was closed for Christmas) 2 1/2 hours walking up and down hills with everything shut, we admitted defeat and holed up in McDonalds to wait the remaining two hours before the train

Budapesti itself has been enhanced by wandering around behind our own tour guides, Zach, another volunteer came this far with us to meet up with some friends of his here as this is where he got his Masters degree> Thus, the places we go are local, cheaper and far more interesting. Though, funny enough, they don't speak much Hungarian.

Zach says that everyone young here speaks English and everyone old speaks German. He just spoke German for two years! Very cool, as it turns out Hungarian is more distantly related to English than Farsi or Sinhalese. I remember learning this in language classes, but seeing it in action is a little intimidating and fascinating.

Like last night's coffee bar: a three storey affair with giant spiral staircase and clearly student generated art work everywhere. The coffee was delicious and served in square cups. Hungarian beer was on tap and everything very happily priced. I also got to peruse some art and theatre magazines for their pictures. It looks like a full and vibrant art house life. And considering the hype, I guess I should not have been surprised!

Budapesti is good.

But you may have to learn about Budapesti later as this keyboard is turning caps and number lock on at random, and the punctuation is scatter shot and the typing difficult. gr.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Itinerary

I'm sure there's a map application with GPS that follows the chip in my neck while I wander around the world... But in lieu of that, Here is where I hope to be in the next two weeks:

Dec. 25 -- Singerei: Christmas celebrations with Matt, Lindsay and MacKenzie.
Dec. 26 -- Balti --> Iasi --> Cluj --> Budapesti
Dec. 28 -- Budapesti --> Ljubljana
Dec. 30 -- Ljubljana --> Sarajevo
Jan. 1 -- Sarajevo --> Podgorica
Jan. 5 -- Podgorica --> Belgrade
Jan. 6 -- Belgrade --> Bucharesti
Jan. 7 -- Bucharesti --> Chisinau

It's amazing. There are only a couple days where we won't be on trains and I can't describe how excited I am about that.

So many travelogues (and stories from Maria and Bunica) about trains here describe them as cold, over crowded, slow and sat only on planks of wood. However, the trains I've taken to and from Bucharesti, and the one Casey recommended (Iasi/Cluj) , are kick ass red leather affairs with lots of brass studs and Jetsons likes bars. They are mainly empty, but clean and staffed by eager men who endlessly love Americans.

It also looks like border crossings won't be too hard. Maybe in and out of Bosnia, but we might not even get stamped from Hungary to Slovenia! That would be sad.

Saddest though, is that they don't just punch a hole through our PC passports at the end of days, but TAKE THEM from us. Bad form, if you ask me, but ceva ceva. If I've learned anything it's that the treatment of people from government is arbitrary feeling.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Judge Maria

Lunches, in winter last longer than in other seasons. Maria has less to do, and the kitchen is the only room in the house that ever seems adequately warm.

At some point I made it clear that I don't want to hear about villagers' personal problems. So she tells me about the things that she sees on TV.

The ongoing government drama.
Ukraine's government drama. (we seem to have it pretty sweet in Moldova)
How the communists suck.
How the communists were once so cool.
The haughtyness of Bunica.
The obraznic-ness of the cows.
And now, the Moldovan poor and thier promiscuous ways.

Some girl got pregnant, doesn't know who the father is, so they will have the blood test done, and whoever turns out to be the father will pay for everything.
This would be pretty run of the mill, EXCEPT she had the baby over a toilet, by herself. The baby fell out and cracked its little head on the porcelain and is in intensive care. Its been a couple days... the baby is recovering nicely.
The would be weird all on its own EXCEPT she had a supposed 'pregnancy test' earlier in the year at school and it was negative. The girl was 4 or 5 months along already, and tested. Thus, either the school was trying to cover up for her, or pregnancy tests just ain't what they used to be.
Thus, scandal.

More recently, a woman killed a man, went to jail for her 7 years. Was out. Killed another, this time convicted for 8 years. Gave birth to a baby while in jail -- but of course there are no conditions for babies in jail, so the baby was given to a friend of the killer woman. The friend dodged off and refused to bring the child to jail EVER to visit the mother and now that Mom is out, she wants her kid back, but the kid has no idea who this woman is -- has been raised to think this other woman is his mom etc etc...

Maria is glorious in her rendition of these stories. She gets involved and gesticulates and every little bit shrugs her shoulders and says "Such people."

The beauty is she never passes judgement. Not once. Its amazing.

Sometimes she'll bring it back to government problems, and blame them. Usually, though, these are people and they have more colorful lives than her.

Who does Maria pass judgement on?

People who vote communist.
The government -- no matter who is in charge of it -- for not developing agriculture technology.

Moldova has the richest soil, she says. In Italy they have nothing but rocks with one stalk of corn growing through the middle. But that one stalk, that one stalk has ears of corn the size of my arm! And so many of them! they can have 5 stalks and feed their pigs for as much as I can with half a hectare.

She is righteously irate.

I asked if there were organizations in town for an Agricultural Volunteer to work here, to replace me.

Where? Where? No! Everyone has a farm and farms and farms but no one will be larger.

Maybe I can get a COD in here. With the two gradinitas, primaria, various little stores, big school and the incoming retirement home (Maria fumes at the communists who, had they been in power, never would have allowed the building of this retirement home, and if they get re-elected the construction will stop) there is more than enough for a Community Development kid here.

thoughts...

Sunday, December 19, 2010

References

In our campaigns of self promotion, to get jobs, university entrance, boyfriends/girlfriends it is always useful and often necessary to provide references.

The last job I applied to is the first I have ever encountered, where, without thinking too hard, I can produce 5 extremely well-qualified references for said job. It occurred to me, that I'm finally in a place where I am actually qualified for things like managerial jobs, publicity coordinating jobs, teaching jobs, administrative jobs.

I've always known (no small thanks to my ever-encouraging parents) I can do pretty much anything if I put my mind to it. However, America, being the highly pragmatic and quantifiable-fact-mongering creature that it is, has disagreed with me.

Until now.

I'm not saying I'll get a job right off the bat (I have more well qualified friends than me jobless and losing hope). And I'm not saying I have an above average resume, just that I'm more accomplished than I thought.

Then, I chatted with one of my former students. Maxim graduated last year and has been studying in Balti. It was great to see him again as he was the only boy in his whole graduating class last year who took me seriously as anything more than That Jessica Simpson Look Alike (and seriously, where did they even GET that comparison?).

Maxim is applying for a work abroad position in the USA. I told him if the system needed it, I would happily give him a reference.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Mormons vs. Volunteers

Every 4 or 5 months I have a Mormon sighting.

There are, as far as I can tell, 4 - 8 Mormons living in Moldova currently. Evangelizing. Walking around. Speaking Russian. Wearing suits and backpacks.

Once they invited us to watch a carol thing they'd organized on the TV.

Once they were carolling on a street corner in their suits and back packs.

Usually, they are chatting and walking, and I wave real big to them.

The thing is, Mormonism is my favorite sect of Christianity. I have never met a Mormon I didn't like a whole bunch. If not for the alcohol thing, and the believing in god thing, I'd totally sign up.

I often wonder why Mormonism, as a religion, makes such good people without fail. It has been suggested it's because they are so 'good works' based. This makes sense. Catholicism did that though. Why do Mormon church leaders succeed where Catholic church leaders just turned crazy greedy and charged their congregations money for their good deeds? What is the difference there?

One of the greater things is their two year commitment to evangelizing. Though I don't believe forcing people to believe a thing you believe is an ethically ok thing to do, I adore that followers are required to live somewhere away from home when they are young. From what I've been told by friends in Disney World (which hires Mormons by the drove) and the guys here in Balti, they have no choice in where they are sent. It can be anywhere in the world from Florida to Balti to Nepal.

When they find out, they are given language training. Extensive language training. We in the Peace Corps have 3 months of language and job training. Daily it's about 4 hours a day. They have twice as much daily for twice as long. Their language is phenomenal. I want to convert just to be sent out with that kind of knowledge. I got our of training and could barely float with my language.

When they are sent out, they are sent in a pair. When we are sent out we are sent singly. There are pros and cons to each of these. On our own we are fully immersed in the culture. That's the point. However, I am a surprisingly shy extrovert -- I need to be pushed to go out into new groups of people, but I have to think out loud. If I'd had a partner I'd have been more likely, immediately, to meet the village. If I'd had a partner this whole time, my plans and projects would have expanded more, much more quickly.

I wonder what they think when they see us. Do volunteers stand out more or less than them in their uniforms? Are we more or less effective in integration? What is the impact on their development projects with the religion factor? How much time do they spend with the religion factor? Do they have as many romances with host country nationals as we do?

And ultimately, who would win in a fight?

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Moldova as Dream Drug

Either Moldova is a sink hole, metaphysically, for sub-concious thought (would account for the Baba Yaga stories which make Grimm look downright Dr. Spock) or I have just hit a plateau in mental development.

Either way, I dream more vividly here than I have at any other time.

Dreams have been a major stock of my mental life since I was about 12. Funny enough, that is also when I started reading the Bible in earnest. I started a dream journal, bought and received for Christmas no less that 4 different Dream Dictionaries. Theories of and experiments with past life regression, out of body experiences/astral projection, communicating with ghosts and fairy-like creatures, fairly rigid daily meditation, bullshit wiccan-type spells with candles and home made tinctures abounded.

That is, I'm pretty well informed. And though I genuinely believe very little in these things currently, I am thankful to this phase for other things: I have a mighty discipline of the mind. Literally, at the time, I could control my hiccups. Thought, this particular talent disappeared in December 2005, I still have an uncanny ability to tell the time and wake up exactly when I want, fall asleep when I want etc.

And I have never had dreams like I'm having dreams now, and in the past 6 months.

Almost every one features the ocean--either benign or about to swamp me and the whole world. Usually, my sisters are involved. Often I am pregnant, or spontaneously have a baby that is Mary-like mine. Sometimes my parents are around. Sometimes there is flying in planes. I never fly on my own, my teeth never fall out. I've died once.

This is all very run-of-the-mill.

What's not is how I've been waking up. Before I've woken up maybe twice before with real tears. Now it's at least twice a month. Twice I have literally laughed myself awake. My dreams are becoming more physical. If any one knows how gauge melatonin levels etc. I'm all ears.

And, about half the time, regardless of what else is going on, I look nothing like myself. I've been chinese men, white men, black women, super old, super young... But everyone else is who I, Erika the Blonde, know them as. Elise, Greta and Kelsie are always themselves. Stephanie is always herself. But, 50% of the time, I am not me.

What is that?

Is it all the natural, unpasteurized food? Is it the hive mind of a Moldovan Sat? I haven't yet dreamed in Romanian, so, I guess we all know what my language level is, but could the massive amount of life in a different language have other effects? Is it living so isolated? Is it the water? The amount of DayQuil and NyQuil I now take? If that were it, the dream level would have dropped off in the summer, so that can't be it--despite the amount consumed having been enough to start my own meth-lab.

I'm gonna keep blaming Moldova unless someone can posit a better theory.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

I'm a Moldovanka Short and Stout!

...Here is my brinza
Here is my grout
When I get all steamed up
I will shout:
Put that rachiu down--
you're a lout!

Yes, dear reader, I have this day made it into the ranks of the domestic Moldovanka.

(it should be noted the following events were only possible because Maria was significantly distracted with a woman from Glodeni who came to discuss the financial health of various magazins, and the great shift of accounting from longhand to computer)

Today I:

- Cleaned the kitchen after lunch for Maria as talked accounting shop with her accountant friend
- Wore rubber ankle boots to wade through farm yard slush and mud
- Made a small bridge from the viceu to the wood pile with the scraps from the gospodar's rather neglected project-wood pile (that is, I imagine 10 years ago Laurentiu had a project in mind, but forgot...ever since the turkeys and chickens have been roosting in this pile of rotting, but professionally-cut wood, now covered in various types of domestic bird shit)
- Stocked the house with the day's supply of wood
- Lit the fires
- Kept those fires going

And when Maria was finished she and Laurentiu exclaimed over my many merits as a gospodina (house wife).

Monday, December 6, 2010

Nothing...

Nothing too exciting happening...

Done a lot of work for the daily lesson plans reformatting and all their title pages...

Done an overhaul on the grant proposal.

Watched a lot of Fringe.

Tending my fire. It's cold enough now that my room doesn't keep warm too long. Compacted ice and snow is already building up, melting a bit around 2pm and then freezing again by 4.

Remembering why Spain seemed like such a good idea last year. How cold these trains are going to be.... But! It'll be fun! Most things booked now...

Adriana made me an origami boat with drawings all over it. It's pretty cool.

More and more students are talking to me on Skype. What a fun way to improve language. If only we had a bunch of computers in the classroom, we could use it as an in-class tool!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Man Huddles of Winter

Man Huddles occur more often in winter. Yes, even the mighty Man Huddle is brought low by the crippling sweeps of winter. They crouch themselves lower, closer to each other, quicker shots with more frequency, in the domain of their women. I imagine they are therefore, tamer.

Things I learned with today's Man Huddle:

The wine cellar is quite warm.
Fully popped kernals of popcorn are called roosters, half popped ones are called hens.
The toast: Few deaths in the house, less work!

Maria wryly mentioned that if you work less, you have less to eat and therefore more deaths occur.

Ie. Bullshit.




Today is the first day of winter, and as such, a Man Huddle was forced to form. Slavic's wife called complaining of his not being home to save all the pumpkin's from freezing. He hung up on her and he and the men conferred about how likely it is that pumpkins could freeze today.

Yesterday, still officially being fall, was a toasty 42 degrees. When I dodged out to the veciu this morning, however, I noticed the ground was frozen hard enough that I could safely wear my pretty shoes without losing the heels to the mud made famous by killing armies. Indeed, walking to school, through various stabbing tests, it was surmised that the ground is solid to about 4 inches.

If the ground, that solid thing that is giant beneath us, can freeze up to 4 inches deep, I put forth that a pumpkin 8 inches in diameter, would freeze solid.

Though, I have not tested the viscosity of pumpkins, or the temperature at which pumpkin pulp freezes. So, really, as I was told, I have no clue.

I made up for this conversation mishap by listing my three favorite foods: cheese, pickled cucumbers, gummy bears.

Yes, pickled cucumbers are delicious! "Hai! Few deaths, Little work!"