the state of the nation

Let me start this post off with a disclaimer: I have only been in Moldova for a month. Even though I'm learning the language, and I've heard numerous lectures about the history and culture and observed quite a bit from my interactions with host country nationals, I still know very little about Moldova. If anything, I'm at the dangerous stage where you know just enough about something to think you know everything and consequently be way off base.

That being said, I'm going to go right ahead and share my opinions (isn't that what a blog is for???). Before coming to Moldova, I heard/read somewhere that Moldova is the poorest country in Europe. After arriving here, I heard that statistic again. And I am starting to understand why. Poverty is a complex thing. Moldova is nothing like sub-Saharan Africa, where poverty is so overwhleming that it reaches out and smacks you right between the eyes. In Chisinau, and in other cities in Moldova, you wouldn't think Moldova is that poor. Banks, grocery stores, pharmacies, cell phone kiosks, cars, and stylishly dressed girls in ridiculously high stilettos are everywhere.

But looks can be deceiving. Many Moldovans struggle to make ends meet. You can see this especially in villages. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, Moldova's political and economic infastructes dissolved as well. Since Moldova declared its independence, economic growth has been slow. Roughly 1/4 (I've heard slightly varying statististics) of Moldova's working-age population is currently abroad because people can't find jobs here (even teachers, doctors, and other professionals sometimes have to leave the country and find work elsewhere, cleaning people's houses or doing construction, because they can't find jobs that pay enough for them to live on). Many children have one or both parents who are away from home for months, or even years, at a time.

And to make things even more complicated, Moldova is a country torn between the East and the West. Russia has long been a presence here (for obvious reasons), and a significant portion of Moldovans identify themselves as Russian (speak Russian, not Romanian, etc.). But many Moldovans would like to see themselves united with Romania (re-united really--before being a part of the Soviet Union, Moldova was a part of Romania), especially if that means joining the EU as a result.

It's all so complicated, and of course, I've only scratched the surface. For anyone that thinks all of this is as interesting as I do (I won't be offended if you don't, but if you do--bravo!), you need to check out the recent New Yorker article about human trafficking and Moldova. From what I can tell, it's very accurate and well-researched. Just go to Google, type in "New Yorker + Moldova" and you'll find it.

I'm not sure yet how I, as an English teacher, am going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things, but I do know that I'm in the right place. I'm quickly falling in love with this country and with its people, and I hope that my role in my community will be a meaningful one. That's why I came, and I'm going to try my best not to forget that.

Pictures

For those of you that don't know, in my list of links to the left of this page is the link to my photos. I just added several pictures that I've taken since coming to Moldova. Feel free to check them out!

Home Sweet Casa

I'm willing to bet that when most people hear the term Peace Corps, an image of a thatched-roof hut nestled in the depths of a tropical jungle comes to mind. While that may be true to life for some volunteers, it is not my current reality. While I didn't exactly expect a hut, I came into Moldova knowing that conveniences like running water and electricity might not be available at my site. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at my PST home (the house I'll be living in for my first ten weeks of pre-service training) to discover that my host family has indoor plumbing, a computer with Internet, their own washing machine, and two TVs. I'll admit--my first reaction was guilt. Wasn't I, the Peace Corps volunteer who consolidated her wordly possessions into a mere two suitcases and a carry-on, supposed to endure more hardship than this?

After talking with PC staff and other volunteers, I came to realize that our home stays during PST will probably be quite different than what we experience at our permanent sites. The Peace Corps attempted to place all of us trainees with more affluent families as a way of easing us into Molovan life. The American definition of affluence doesn't quite carry over though. For exmple, my host family has indoor plumbing, but not a working toilet (Or at least we never use the toilet. It might just be for the winter. I haven't figured it out yet). We also have so much less stuff in general than the "typical" American household (less clothes, less food on hand, etc.). And nothing gets wasted here. Any extra food goes to our animals (in our case, chickens, rabbits, dog, and cat--other families have cows, sheep, goats, pigs, ducks, geese, or turkeys).

Conveniences aside, I can say without hesitation that the people I have met here are wonderful. My host family, which consists of mom, dad, 17-year-old sister, and 13-year-old brother, has been incredibly kind to me. Other than my sister, who learned English in school and can communicate with me a bit, no one in my family speaks English. They do their best to help me with my Romanian, and I do my best not to sound like an idiot every time I open my mouth. It's not always a reachable goal (especially when I have to resort to using non-verbal communication--I actually impersonated a sheep at the dinner table the other night in an attempt to figure out what kind of cheese we were eating....but now I know that sheep cheese exists.). It is amazing though how much Romanian I've learned in two weeks. By the end of PST, I'll know enough to survive on my own. Very exciting to think about! Hopefully by then I'll have regained some of my dignity.