It's been a long time since I posted, sorry about that. I am still alive and well in Moldova! (Although I do officially have my first case of Giardia. Yay.)
Before I get into the subject of this post please note that I changed
the tabs at the top of my blog and you will now see one that says "Gifts
and Care Packages". In this tab is a list of things that I would like
from the states, IF you want to send me anything. Of course, I do not
expect anything so please don't take this as "you must send me
something." I also added a button if you would rather just donate to my traveling fund :) (yay! traveling!).
Soroca
Last week the volunteers that work in schools had our first school vacation, here it is called fall break. The students get a full week off of school and the teachers, well, don't. Most of the PCVs thought that we would have the entire week off but that didn't really happen for any of us. I went to school Monday through Wednesday and, to be completely honest, it was awful. I sat through meetings with the other teachers and tried to understand what was happening but 95% of what was said went straight over my head and the other 5% had no baring on me at all. The teachers used this week to catch up on grading and other administrative tasks while my director and adjunct directors were running around with a light sheen of nervous-stress sweat all week. I felt utterly in the way. My partners were also so busy with their full schedules that we did not have much time to plan so instead of the four lesson plans I wanted to get completely done we barely finished one. This is not a huge deal because we've been planning week to week since school started but it would have been nice to be ahead. This week I realized that the only part of my job that I enjoy is the kids and without them in the school I think I would be miserable for the next two years. There is something so wonderful about walking into your job and having thirty smiling faces greet you in every single class. These are the 3rd grade smiles I get to interact with every week:
Note the wall hanging of Mihai Eminescu, the poet, in the background.
Fortunately, I did end up getting some time off during the fall break and on Friday I took a minibus north 3 hours to hang out with my friend Kaylee. Kaylee lives in a village called Frumuşica which translates to "little pretty", when we found out where she was going for her permanent site we asked our language teachers if calling someone frumusica is an insult like saying, "Yeah, she's ok. I mean, she's a little pretty." Haha.
Anyway, my visit to Little Pretty was the first time I felt like I was actually in Peace Corps. There is something about walking through streets of mud (there is one paved street in Frumusica), in the dark and fog, listening to chickens, ducks, dogs and the clop clop cloping of horse drawn carts that drives home that thought of "I'm not in the US anymore." It was a wonderful feeling, exhilarating and clean, a fresh start.
We only spent one night in Frumusica in which we filled Kaylee's host family's kitchen full of smoke making chicken and eggplant parmesan. Aside from the smoke I think the dinner turned out pretty delicious. Saturday we got on another bus and headed to the town of Soroca, where we met up with other PCVs. Soroca is located on the Northern border of Moldova and is separated from Ukraine by the Nistru river which runs the length of Moldova and creates the border between Moldova proper and the break-away territory of Transnistria (for more information on Transnistria - which is facinating - click here).
Soroca is an interesting town for three main reasons. One, it has a massive population of Roma (Gypsy - the old term that is now considered derogatory) and is, in fact, called the Roma capital of Moldova. Roma people are an ethnic minority in Moldova and have a very rich history, however, we did not have time to explore this aspect of Soroca.
Two, Soroca is really old. It was established in the medieval period and in 1499 Stefan cel Mare (see my post on culture for a bit of info about him) built a fortress in Soroca that was a major military stronghold through many wars until 1735 when it was finally conquered by the Russians during the Russo-Turkish War.
The entrance to the fortress
Inside, there are three floors that visitors can tour.
Stefan cel Mare si Sfant (Stefan the Great and Holy)
Soroca from the top level of the fortress
Ukraine and the Nistru river viewed from the 2nd level of the fortress
This is very Moldova - no bathroom, no smoking and no sunflower seeds allowed on the premises. Sunflower seeds are eaten a lot here and there are shells everywhere.
Third, just outside of Soroca is a the tallest structure in Moldova, of course, it's the tallest structure because it was built on a hill, but it's still really cool. It is called the Lumânarea Recunoştinţei or Thanksgiving Candle and is a tribute to the anonymous heroes who devoted their lives to preserving the language, culture and history of Moldova. The structure itself looks like a giant candle and inside is a small chapel. After climbing the 657 stairs to the structure (I'm not exaggerating here) we were told by the security guard that there was also a monastery that had been near the site of the monument. People from all over the world come to the monument to buy candles from the chapel and visit the site of the old monastery to say a prayer, light a candle and heal their illnesses. It was beautiful.
The Lumanarea seen from the Nistru river.
On step 550-something
From the "deck" of the Lumanarea. The river curves around Ukraine.
I am behind in posting and currently do not have the mental reserves to write something new, so here are a couple pieces of Moldovan culture for you:
There are a two Moldovan historical figures that are literally in every school in the form of pictures or wall hangings:Ștefan cel Mare (Stefon the Great, Prince of Moldova from 1457-1504 who conquered many countries who tried to overthrow Moldova. Read about him here.) and Mihai Eminescu, the 19th century Romanian poet and author, also known as the Romanian Shakespeare. In all honesty, I had never heard either name before coming to Moldova. However, knowing how important Eminescu's writings are to the culture of Moldova I started reading up on him and was lucky enough to be gifted a book of his poems. Here is my favorite,
So Delicate Thou Art...
(1879,
Translated by P. Grimm, see the original here)
So like the sweet, white cherry blossom,
So tender and so fresh thou art,
And on my life's way like an angel
Appearing thou dost light impart.
Thou scarcely touchest the soft carpet,
The silk on thee doth rustling stream,
From top to toe so light and lofty,
Thou floatest like an airy dream.
From draping folds like purest marble
Thine image unto me appears,
My whole soul on thine eyes is hanging,
Those eyes so full of joy and tears.
O happy dream of love, so happy,
Thou bride of fairy tales, so mild,
No, do not smile! Thy smille doth show me
How sweet thou art, thou gentle child.
My poor eyes thou canst close forever
With deepest night's eternal charms,
With thy sweet lips' sweet fondling, whispers,
Embracing me with thy cool arms.
A veiling thought at once now passes
Thy glowing eyes thus covering:
It is the dark renunciation,
The sweetest yearning's shadowing.
Thou go'st away and, well I know it,
To follow thee must I no more,
Thou art for me now lost for ever,
My soul's dear bride, whom I adore.
My only guilt was that I saw thee,
Which I to pardon have no might,
Mine arm I'll stretch for ever vainly
To expiate my dream of light.
Like holy Virgin's purest image
In my fond eyes thou will rise now,
The brightest crown on forehead bearing,
Where dost thou go? When comest thou?
Last weekend was the national weekend of wine in Moldova. It was spectacular. I took a few videos of traditional dancing from the festival. It seems as though you can only hear the accordion in the videos but the music is actually quite lovely and has more than one instrument.
I think I'll take Mr. Fuzz over this. It was crouched waiting to leap into my house when I opened the door (it didn't do that but that's the image that ran through my head every time I stepped over it to leave/enter the house). Super rad Nokia phone with flashlight included for size comparison.
I never actually posted the previous two lessons because I learned them way back when I was living in a different village without internet. In short they read something along these lines:
Lesson Learned in Moldova #1: Always, ALWAYS, carry toilet paper
Or something that can be used as toilet paper. This is very important. So much so that I have considered and frankly still might start, stuffing my bra on days when my outfits do not have pockets. As a friend of mine pointed out, stuffing my bra with vital TP is not only practical but also has the added bonus of giving me bigger boobs. I'm already the oddly dressed/styled American so there's really no downside to having someone catch me with hârtie igienicăhanging out of my shirt.
Lesson Learned in Moldova #2: "Don't die stupid"
I heard this phrase several times over the summer from my first host "mom", usually to get me to eat something weird (see: cow tongue, mayonnaise and fish eggs on bread, salted raw fish, pickled pig fat etc.). My grandmother used to say something similar when I was a kid to get me to eat veggies, "you never know if you like it until you try it." Although both of these were used in reference to food the lesson I take away from them is that, what is the point of life if you don't at least try all there is out there? (I have a sneaking suspicion however, that both Gram and Silvia were more excited about seeing my reactions to the food than encouraging me to experience new things)
Thus, we come to the lesson I learned a few nights ago.
Lesson Learned in Moldova #3: Never leave your front door open at night
I've never been comfortable with the dark. As a kid, before bed I had a very stringent anti-monster protocol:
Cram as many stuffed animals as possible into the crack between my bed and wall
Prepare bed sheets so that there was no time wasted scrambling to get under the protective covers once the lights went out.
Do a final check that there was nothing lurking under the bed or in the dark corners
Hit light switch and run like hell towards bed, three feet away take a flying leap into the pre-arranged covers.
My unease in the dark grew exponentially when my cousins and I invented the game "bloody ghost" (on a side note, it is probably the greatest game ever). Bloody Ghost is kind of like tag in the dark. One person, the ghost, hides and the others try to find them. Once the ghost is spotted, usually because it has popped out of a bush or dropped out of a tree effectively scaring the crap out of the seekers, someone screams "bloody ghost!!" and all the seekers trample over each other trying to get back to the base (i.e. the lamp post and the glorious safety of its light) while the ghost tries to tag someone with a ball.
I've never really recovered my lost courage from these experiences and growing up in Montana where there are, in fact, things in the dark that will eat you has made me avoid hanging out alone in the woods after the sun goes down. However, in my current home where every dinner is accompanied by a few glasses of wine, avoiding leaving the house to make a trip to the outhouse is near impossible. Generally, these night walks here in Moldova do not have me jumping at rustling bushes or running back to the house in fear because the scariest thing you could encounter here would be a rabid dog or a drunk, both of which would have a hard time getting over our fence (every house in Moldova has a solid fence and a gate) and unnoticed by our guard dog.
With this new found confidence in taking night strolls through the garden, I left my house and because it was so nice out left my front door open. I should also mention that the way my house is set up, when I enter I immediately enter the first room on the right, the back rooms are ghost-townish containing old furniture and frozen memories. I try not to go back there and feel uneasy when I do have to cross the threshold from my space to the past's space. Anyway, I get back from my outing, enter my house and close the door. With my heightened ability to detect creepy things in the dark I instantly know I am not alone in the house. At the same instant I have frozen in terror a white blur of something fuzzy comes flying out of the corner and straight at me. I, of course, do nothing except step sideways and hope that somehow the door will magically reopen and provide an exit path for this spectral thing and, more importantly, away from me. No such luck. The thing crashes head first into the closed door, runs UP it, flips, hits the ground and tears across the floor...straight into my bedroom.
Once my heart started beating again I used my big human brain to figure out that there was a feral cat, not a ghost, in my house, somewhere in my dark bedroom. Have you ever tried to get a scared, wild cat to go somewhere with you? Yeah, now, instead of fearing for my soul all I can picture is being sent home via medical separation for being mauled by a cat. Fortunately, the cat was part deer and froze in my headlight's beam under my bed. Also fortunately for me, PC had given us all a box of colored pencils at swearing in and thus a tool that I could use to poke the fur ball in the bum until it barreled out of my room and through the open front door. Come to think of it, that closed door and the concussion it most likely inflicted on Mr. Fuzz probably saved me from a nasty case of cat scratch fever. Lesson learned, always close the front door.
I have two teaching partners. One I teach two classes with, granted they are the two 3rd grade classes so are my favorite - there is nothing cuter than seeing a kid spell their name with a backwards S - the other I teach 7 classes with. On Friday, the latter's father-in-law died and, rightfully so, she did not come to work. The point of me writing this to you is that Friday was supposed to be our day of work when we write the second semester long term plans (LTPs) for the 6th, 7th and 8th grades. Due to life happening I am now trying to finish the LTPs before tomorrow and do not have time to write a blog entry. Thus, I give you this article about one of Moldova's major problems: discrimination.
A quick story before the article, one of the M27s told me that before she left the states she coincidentally met a Moldovan woman living in the US and asked this woman to lunch. During their meal my friend asked the woman what Moldovans do for fun. Her reply was given with a laugh as she said, "we beat the gays."
As terrible as this is it is a statement that could be heard from someone from the states as well. Not every Moldovan is homophobic or racist or sexist but the country and culture has quite a lot of work to do before this country becomes safe for all people to live their lives openly. Hopefully, I and my fellow PCVs can have some impact on how the future Moldovan generations view diversity.
From Amnesty International. The original page can be seen here.
Moldova: Amend laws to tackle rampant discrimination
Urgent changes are needed to Moldovan laws to combat high levels of discrimination.
Urgent changes are needed to Moldovan laws to combat high
levels of discrimination faced by ethnic and religious minorities,
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual and intersex (LGBTI) people, the
disabled and HIV-positive people, Amnesty International said in a report
published today.
Towards equality: Discrimination in Moldovaproposes
amendments to the Law on Ensuring Equality due to come into force on 1
January 2013 that would prohibit discrimination based on a person’s
sexual orientation, sexual identity and state of health.
The
organization also calls for hate crimes motivated sexual orientation and
identity, as well as disabilities to be added to Moldova’s Criminal
Code.
“There is an urgent need for these changes as Moldova’s
present climate of prejudice and stereotyping breeds violence and abuse
against disadvantaged groups – crimes that are committed with impunity,”
said Heather McGill, Amnesty International’s expert on Moldova.
“International
standards – not the prevalent prejudices in society as a whole – should
be the guiding principles for Moldova’s laws.”
According to a
sociological study conducted in 2011 by the Soros Foundation in Moldova,
63 per cent of respondents thought that children with disabilities
should be educated in separate schools, 46 per cent expressed support
for curtailing the rights of lesbian and gay people, and more than 70
per cent thought that Roma are beggars and pickpockets, liars and
cheats.
Such perceptions are reinforced when Moldova’s political
and religious leaders make discriminatory statements towards ethnic
minorities and LGBTI individuals.
This exposes them to further
discrimination and deprives them of basic rights – including the rights
to freedom of expression and assembly, the right to education and health
protection.
Racism In one case from
September 2011 in the Moldovan capital Chisinau, four men shouted abuse
and manhandled Johnbull Ugbo, a Nigerian citizen, as he was leaving a
chemist’s shop. The victim managed to call the police but as they
escorted him out of the shop, the men attacked him again in the police
car.
A month later, one of Ugbo’s attackers was fined 200 Lei (13
Euros) for minor hooliganism. The court rejected Ugbo’s lawyer’s
request to reinvestigate the case as a criminal offence with the
aggravating factor of racism.
Homophobia The
deliberate exclusion of LGBTI people as a protected group under the Law
on Ensuring Equality and the deficiencies in the Criminal Code which
allow hate crimes to be treated as “hooliganism” only further
perpetuates these negative attitudes. Worse still, they prevent the
victims of such crimes to get redress.
Corrupt policemen
frequently blackmail gay men in Moldova, exploiting the wider society’s
stigmatization of homosexuality and acceptance of discrimination against
LGBTI people.
On 6 December 2010 Ion committed suicide after
police in Chisinau detained him and threatened to disclose his sexual
orientation him to his family. In his suicide note he wrote: “Forgive me
mum. I am gay.”
Discrimination against people with disabilities Lack
of access to education is one of the gravest types of discrimination
faced by children with disabilities. Although there are as many as
15,321 such children in Moldova, only around a fifth of them – 3,148 –
were receiving education of any kind in 2010 – 2011.
Cornel
Baran, aged 19, is being taught at home because he cannot access the
school building in his wheelchair. He told Amnesty International that he
would much rather attend school because then he would have friends, but
“architectural barriers” kept him away. There are 10 steps to enter his
local school building and the classrooms are spread over four floors.
HIV/AIDS and prejudice There
were 5,290 cases of HIV/AIDS registered in Moldova in 2009. A 2007 law
prohibits discrimination on the basis of HIV/AIDS status.
Despite
this HIV-positive people continue to face stigma and discrimination in
the workplace, in society, and in accessing health care.
I.H., a
48-year-old HIV-positive woman, suffers from severe deterioration of a
hip joint and is only able to walk with crutches. In May 2011, she was
put on a waiting list for a hip replacement operation at the
Traumatology and Orthopedics Hospital in Chisinau. However, on 21
November 2011, doctors refused to carry out the operation, claiming that
the surgery was too risky for somebody with her health problems.
“Moldova
can prove its democratic credentials by taking care of the most
vulnerable in its society, by viewing diversity not as a threat, but as a
source of enrichment,” Heather McGill said.
“To this end, the
Moldovan government must take measures to prevent the use of negative
stereotypes in public discourse, raise awareness of discrimination and
build tolerance through education and public information. It must ensure
that victims of discrimination are provided with redress.”
Moldova has a lot of beautiful traditions. The wonderful thing about these traditions is that they are not just for show, or some act that is repeated but has lost its meaning; Moldovans believe in the message, lesson and/or value that the tradition stems from. One of my favorite traditions, hands-down, is that the first day of school is treated as a sort of working holiday. This day is also a day where the value of education is reiterated year to year to the ongoing students while establishing the idea that obtaining an education is something to be proud of to the newest students.
The value of having an education and taking pride in your school was overwhelmingly evident last Friday. Just so we are all clear on this, last Friday was the last day of summer vacation before school started. The last day of freedom. The weather was perfect. The last day to just hang out with your friends. I'm sure any American who has been through any number of years in education will agree with me when I say that there is no way in hell I would spend my last day of summer vacation helping my teachers decorate our homeroom. Yet, that is exactly what I found last Friday, my school's halls full of students who were excitedly working with their homeroom teachers deciding where posters should be hung, how the tables should be arranged and where the fake flowers should reside (Moldovans are big on fake flowers and lace as decorations and surprisingly they do this is a way that is not tacky, for the most part).
Monday was the oddest first day of school I have ever had. Universally, I think, the first day of school is not a real day of school. Classes usually are just filled with teachers going over the syllabus for the year and maybe there is an assembly of some sort. Moldova is no different, Monday morning at 8 AM (ugg, although it is better than having to wake up at 6 to catch the bus, right Connor?), I walked the block and a half to school and saw that the school grounds were swarming with excited kids while their parents clicked away on cameras. I always loved the first day of school because everyone dressed in the clothes that made the biggest statement about who they are and whatever style they chose made them feel good about how they looked. The outfits here are a little different; the kids obviously all felt very good about the way they looked because they all looked like they were going to a fancy wedding. The boys were in three piece suits with ties and the girls were in black and white dresses in various styles along with makeup, huge bows and/or luffa-like poofs in their hair and heels, there are always heels in Moldova. While dodging these very well dressed students I made my way to my "office" that I share with my partner. In the back of the chemistry class there is a walk-in-closet sized storage room, that is our office. Fortunately, there are many windows in our storage room and my partner has made it very homey with flowers (of course) and a full tea set, meaning several cups, sugar, different kinds of tea and instant coffee. Our school runs from 8AM to 2-3PM and during that time there is no lunch offered to the students. There is a store within walking distance but the food offered there is akin to gas station fare and many students do not have money to buy anything. My partner created this tea/coffee nook for any student who needs a little something in their stomachs during the day. My partner is awesome.
Back to the school day...I followed my partner around for about an hour and then the entire school gathered on the front grounds to celebrate and commence the coming year. There were speeches by the Director, two adjunct directors, the head of the health center (who gave me a shout-out), someone from the Ministry of Education and the local Priest. The latter was interesting to me as this would never happen at a public school in the states. Much of Moldovan culture and day to day life revolves around the Eastern Orthodox religion and while there are still varying degrees of devoutness 90% of the population would say that they are Easter Orthodox Christian. The priest blessed the school and gave the director a special icon for the school along with a smaller icon of a specific saint for each of the teachers. This was followed by music, the raising of the flag to the national anthem and then came my favorite part, the celebration of the graduating class and the welcoming of the new first graders.
Each of the grades were grouped together and the student body as a whole formed a corridor in the front of the school. The incoming first graders were then marched up the corridor to raucous applause wearing special sashes to the place of honor, in front of the 12th grade class. There was then a little speech about the successes of the 12th grade class and more applause for their accomplishments then each of the "seniors" presented the first graders with their welcoming presents - their first school books. It was really touching to see such emphasis put on education and I definitely had to hold back some tears. Of course, Moldova's educational system still has some imperfections; for example, just as in the states, teachers are paid a ridiculously low salary which leads to the huge issues of burnout, low motivation and indifference that creates poor learning environments for students and negative work environments for educators.
After the ceremony I thought we would have normal classes and was preparing myself for a day of work. However, at about noon all of the students were sent home so the teachers could have a party in the conference room. This was a new work experience for me. The tables were full of food in the typical Moldovan fashion, not so new-this happens in the states too, but there were also bottles of beer and cognac everywhere. Alcohol at special meals (masa) is not uncommon at all but drinking while at work, in your place of work with the entire staff including your boss was, to say the least, new. Then one of the teachers brought out his accordion and we all sang together, this was also new. I proudly sang along with the one song I knew and drank every glass of cognac poured for me (this was a mistake, who knew cognac was so strong!).
Monday was great and, in general, the rest of the week was fine too. However, this week I have felt the loneliest I have felt since I arrived in Moldova. I think most of this melancholy comes from the never ending stream of dreams about home that I've had this week. Oh, and the fact that I have no idea what's going on or what people are saying to me, that makes it tough too. My language is alright but students don't really understand the fact that my brain can't translate as fast as they talk. Another challenge for me this week is our ever-changing schedule. The schedules for classes are not really finalized here until the second week of school. Our school went through an administration change the Friday before classes started and the person in charge of creating the schedule kind of got thrown into it. This meant that all week my partner would randomly come into our office, hurriedly saying, "Kindle! We have to teach now!" I'm glad I learned flexibility early in life but the tangible stress and chaos that existed in the school this last week was difficult.
The best part of the week, by far, was the students. They were so excited to meet me and ask me questions about life in the states. My two favorite moments though were the standing ovation I got from one of the 6th grade classes when they saw me come in to teach while yelling "THE AMERICAN!!" and the reaction I got when I answered their questions. For instance, when the 9th graders asked what other countries I have traveled to I answered like I would in the states, "Oh, just Canada and Mexico" and tried to wave it off, but the reaction I got was, "oooooo!!! Can-ah-da!!" I mean I get it that for them Canada and Mexico are exotic but it is just so bizarre to hear someone be envious of me for going to Vancouver. It was fantastic to see that perspective. I think we, in the states, forget all that Canada and Mexico have to offer. My other success for the week was when I made a joke and they got it even with my broken Romanian-this was really important to me as humor is such a gigantic part, if not the main part, of my personality and how I interact and connect with people.
All of this being said, school is still school and students are still students. School gets boring and students can be obranici (difficult/smart-asses) from time to time. Hopefully though my partners and I will be able to keep our health classes interesting enough that they keep coming back for more.
Happy September everyone, I'll post again soon but in the meantime please enjoy this bit of traditional Moldovan music:
For the most part American and Moldovans have similar actions, movements and gestures while communicating however, there are a few differences that are difficult to adjust to.
The main one is smiling. As an American, and especially as a Montanan, I smile all the time. I smile when I greet people in the morning, when I say goodbye, when I pass people on the street, when I get on a bus, when I'm running frantically to the bathroom, all the time. Moldovans do not smile much. This doesn't mean they aren't happy or funny, they just see smiling as little gifts you save for special times. One of the first things I heard in this country from a Moldovan was "smiling is expensive." Of course, this Moldovan and I and the rest of our PST group made a big joke of this but in reality the saying holds truth. When you pass Moldovans on the street and smile or get on a bus smiling you automatically are labeled as a foreigner, and based on the looks I've received after trying to start a smiling trend, a buffoon of a foreigner. I imagine it is the same look I would have if I walked into a party and was greeted with the host telling me the evening would consist of us learning the art of miming.
The other that I noticed and confused me to no end was eye contact. In general, when talking with someone Americans and Moldovans both look the person in the eye, but while I was talking to my LTIs a few weeks ago I realized that they were looking anywhere but my eyes. I shouldn't say, I simply realized this, it was more of a minor freak out because I thought that I had something on my face and neck-because that's where they were looking while I was talking. I pretty much stopped mid story and said "what!? what's on me?!" while they laughed and said nothing that they were just looking at me. It was later explained that eye contact when you're in close proximity to another person is too intimate so you look elsewhere. If you ever want to mess with someone try looking at their forehead or neck while they talk. Good times.
Americans and Moldovans also have very different ideas about personal space. Coming from our individualist society our personal bubbles are pretty big in general. For instance, if you're out to lunch with a friend and they sit on the same side of the booth as you with your legs touching, it gets weird really quick. It isn't weird with Moldovans. It doesn't matter if it is 104 degrees out and you are sweating from every pore in your body, if you are friends then your bodies are touching while sitting. Granted this is not the case with all relationships in Moldova, just the special ones. The friendships that mean a lot. It's actually pretty sweet how much touching happens. Mothers and children and girl friends hold hands or link arms while they walk and men always shake hands on greeting. Kisses are also given out freely. I'm still getting used to this as my thing is hugs and always expect a hug to follow a cheek kiss- it does not and my attempts to embrace usually end with a super uncomfortable shoulder hug. I also have trouble aiming the cheek kisses and have ended up making a puckering noise in several peoples ears. I'll get it one day.
As you can see I changed the way the blog looks. This feels cleaner. My address (which is the same as before and won't change for the next two years) can now be found in the "Contact Me" tab at the top of the page. I also made a list of things I want from the states but of course an email, letter or postcard are more than sufficient!
I don't think I've written in four weeks - a lot has happened in that time, obviously, here are the highs and lows:
I taught my first class in Romanian - wooo! I felt great after this and pretty much said to myself, "Teaching in a foreign language - no big deal! I got this." However, I would like to point out some reasons why this went so smoothly. One, I planned and taught the lesson with my American friend who, oddly enough, speaks English which was the language we planned and wrote the lesson in initially. Two, our lesson was only 20 minutes long. Three, our "students" were our American buddies who had been prepped on what to say during the lesson and who were overwhelmingly supportive of us because they had to teach that day too. Still, it felt like a big accomplishment to teach a lesson on "The Influence of Mass Media" in Romanian.
Following the week of this first lesson we spent the next week preparing ourselves for what I like to call The Sanity Breaker, officially called practice school. Practice school lasted for two weeks; the last two weeks of PST. The first week we taught four classes (35 minutes each) in Romanian with our future Moldovan partners to real live Moldovan youth. This doesn't sound so bad right? In reality it wasn't...for me, as I had a FANTASTIC partner. The other trainees were not so lucky. There were tears, lots of tears, from the stress of this week. Imagine meeting your new partner that you'll spend two years working with, who you can't understand either in vocal or body language. This partner has been thrown into the world of PC HE procedures and requirements and is just as anxious about the coming years as the Americans. Now add a dash of time crunch, the panic of having to write three different lesson plans in broken Romanian with this stressed out partner in less than 24 hours and you get a big sticky mess of emotions. As I've said in previous posts, Peace Corps Moldova is a well oiled machine and especially in the Health Education program everything we go through in PST has been tried, tested and tweaked until the outcome is the best for the trainees - even if we can't see it at the time. This first week of practice school was well, horribly rough, but in the end we all have a sense of the challenges we are going to face (interpersonal relationships, communication barriers, creating a curriculum with little pre-existing structure, finding a happy balance between the Soviet era teaching style and our vision for an open, creative class room) as well as the benefits (interpersonal relationships, the rewards of working with youth, thinking outside of the box and developing a kick-ass, interactive and engaging lesson that sneakily teaching kids about a healthier life).
Last week was our second week of practice school. This time with a new partner and instead of teaching three separate classes we taught the same class all week in the format of Health Club. In the HE program we teach normal classes for 8 hours a week and have at least 1 hour of club each week. This doesn't sound like much but when there is no curriculum and you have to write long term plans and lesson plans for each class, the work piles up. Eventually, when we get used to the teaching work, we are expected to branch out and work with community organizations as well as. Club week was funny because we were all kind of dreading another week of practice school and were incredibly nervous about the "surprises" that would cause mental collapses. However, out of all the challenges I could think of that would pop up during this week it never occurred to me that a communication breakdown between two Moldovans would happen. Club week was different than lesson week because we had three teams teaching the same club, just rotating hours. This meant that there were three Americans and three Moldovans all trying to plan lessons together. Our club happened to have one partner who had difficulty with communication and resulted in my partner (who is as outstanding as my other partner- I totally won the teaching partner lottery) playing mediator for the whole week. It was ridiculous. We made it through though and our club's project (a giant children's book about the cold and flu that they presented to the younger classes) turned out great. One of the other trainees caught their presentation on video so I'll post that when I can get a copy.
What does this all mean in the end? PST is over and on Wednesday I took the same oath the President takes and was sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer! Yay!!! Now when people send me things you can write PCV instead of PCT this is very exciting for me, honestly. It feels bitter sweet that PST is over because I'm going to miss my little family of 8 trainees, two amazing language instructors and host family very very much but I'm excited to get down to business.
As always, feel free to post questions in the comment section. I'll be able to post at least once a week now and hopefully, more frequently when I get internet at my new site. Next week I plan on flooding you with pictures, get ready.
I started my Peace Corps application in June of last year (actually in January of 2007, but that is a different story); by September I knew I had been nominated for service; by February I knew I had been cleared medically and legally and from February to April I learned to say the phrase “No, I don’t know where I’m going or what I’ll be doing yet” in my sleep. My experience deviates a bit from the majority of trainees I’ve talked with because my placement was linked to my grad studies; most everyone else knew a region of the world they would be going to when they were nominated…and then had that changed at least once before we left the country. In fact most people thought they were going to Africa and some even began studying languages only to have PC be like, “Jokes! You’re going to Moldova.” I want to be clear that while this sounds, and in all honesty is, frustrating everything Peace Corps does has a purpose, including being placed in the center of these seemingly ever expanding clouds of mystery. In fact, I really believe that the first challenge of Peace Corps service is finding a way to remain calm and positive in the fog of unknown. Luckily for me, I had already acquired a pair of glasses with a +5 clarity and flexibility rating so I had some advantages going in (ugg, I feel sick after that joke but couldn’t resist. These are the sacrifices I make for my beloved nerd friends). Anyway…
Last week the final veil was lifted on the next two years of my life; I found out where my permanent site will be. Yay! It was actually really cool how they did it. We found out on Thursday so pretty much Monday through Thursday afternoon whenever we were asked by our LTI’s or mentors if we had any questions the response was always, “yes, do you know where we are going?” This was always met with a smile and sometimes a ridiculously tantalizing clue. When the time actually came, the staff had drawn a huge chalk map of Moldova on the parking lot and one-by-one our Country Director called our names, did the big reveal and we were lead to our spot on the map by grinning mentors, bathed in applause and genuine excitement from those watching. I can’t say enough about how supportive the staff, current volunteers and fellow trainees are here. It is really incredible knowing that you are in a community who automatically has your back, regardless of differing beliefs, personalities and values. Enough with the mush, here are the facts which come from our packet of information and the two day site visit we had last weekend:
My village (please note that we are advised not to reveal specific locations on public forums but if you want to know the name so you can google map it, email or facebook me)
Centrally located and is only a 30 minute bus ride from the capital
Population is around 3600
Close to my PST site so I can visit my current host family :)
Close to a river, although it is small but the village is in a small valley so is lush and beautiful
My new house and host family
My “parents” are both 58 and it will just be the three of us, although they have three grown boys who all live in Italy
My host mom is probably the hardest working woman in the world. She is a house wife but the entire time I was there she was running around working in the garden, cooking, cleaning, taking care of the animals etc. She is definitely a strong woman who has been through difficult times.
My host dad works in a mill that produces chicken and other animal feed. He is a jokester (although, I have no idea what his jokes were about, I just laughed when he did – he has this great belly laugh). He also makes the strongest wine I’ve ever had, which was offered at EVERY meal. They also tried to give me cognac during lunch one day, that was new.
They have the most incredible flower garden I have ever seen. The entire time I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera. Next spring you will be flooded with pictures. Maybe by next spring there will be a way for me to put the smell on the internet too, it was wonderful, sweet and spicy.
I have my own house. It is called a casa mica (small house), although I think it is actually the casa mare (big house) because it has more rooms than my host parents’. I have a greeting room, a small kitchen with dining area by the window, a bedroom, a living room with couches, TV and DVD player, a dining room and then another room that is also called a casa mare. When the term refers to the room in a house it means a room where you greet guests and always contains a big display cabinet with traditional dishes and other symbolic items.
My house does not have everything though. There is no running water, no stove/oven and no bathroom. There is a shower in my host parents’ house and a toilet, as well as an outhouse.
They have a cow. I am so excited about this I almost cried when I found out. I am going to milk the crap out of that thing.
Also, my house is about a 3 minute walk to the school I will be working in – major bonus.
My Job
As a HE I will be teaching eight health classes a week and will lead one hour of health club a week, in Romanian – yikes.
I have two teaching partners right now and they both seem amazing. One is mid thirties and the other is mid forties. Both have lived abroad. Both have kids. Both have taught for many years. One is a Russian language and literature teacher, the other teaches biology. I had dinner with the Russian teacher and her 16 year old daughter and it was like eating with family. I am pretty excited about her. The other one seems to really love young people and kept saying something about fostering love (my interpretation of her making a heart sign a lot) so I am obviously stoked about that too.
Right now I have two each of 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th grade classes and my club will be a mix of 7th and 8th graders.
Next week I have my first mirco-teaching lesson in Romanian and in a few weeks we start practice school where we develop 45 minute lessons and give them to real-live Moldovan students.
The host site visit was one meeting after another. I met teachers, school directors, the mayor, community members, students etc. Fortunately, the week prior we had been developing interview questions for these people. Unfortunately, I understood maybe five words the entire two days. It was like being doused in ice water. My little happy bubble of being surrounded by Americans and English speaking Moldovans in my PST site was burst, and burst violently, at my permanent site. I cannot wait for the day when I don’t have to pause for a full minute before saying something like “I like potatoes” or “That dog is dirty.”
On a side note, it only took me four weeks to become a dog owner in Moldova. This is longer than I’m sure anyone was expecting. In my defense the thing legitimately followed me home. She is adorable and I named her Jose. She’s a tiny odd looking thing and is severely emaciated. The good news is my host family in my PST site is fine with the addition to the family. I will try and take her to my new site but if I am not allowed she will stay here and become the new tiny doorbell.
I hope everything is going well for you in your respective parts of the world. Feel free to ask questions in the comment section below or just say ‘hi’, those little words mean a lot to me.
Urgent changes are needed to Moldovan laws to combat high levels of discrimination.