Bringing Technology to the Local Government

A project that has been in the works for well over a year has finally gotten off the ground and become a reality. These moments, as a Peace Corps volunteer come rarely, and must be fully appreciated. I have had the great good fortune of having two projects take off recently. Today, I will talk about a project that was conceptualized by a previous volunteer, but got lost in the shuffle, and earlier this year I almost gave up on it entirely. But somehow, in the past couple of weeks the project has completely turned around and is now in the process of being fully deployed.

The project, whose credit belongs to Curt Adams (now a returned PCV), brings computers to each of the mayors offices (who don't currently have a computer) in the entire district of Nisporeni, Moldova. It's a fantastic project, and was very thoughtfully developed from acquisition of hardware to training of all the beneficiary offices. The main objective of the project is to equip all mayors offices in the Nisporeni region with a working computer (applying only to the offices who do not currently have a computer in their office). By default this would raise the lowest common denominator in technology, and by further training the offices on how to use the equipment, would increase accountability and transparency in the local government for the entire region. I was very happy to take-on the project when Curt left Moldova. He had already put-in a lot of work on the grant proposal, and I wanted to see his idea through to the end. In the final days before the grant submission I decided to check-in with our computer suppliers, only to learn that their computers are only intended for distribution in Africa. Learning this critical information created a great challenge for the project. How could we buy ten computers, have them shipped to Moldova, and teach seminars on a budget of $5000? It just wasn't going to happen. The money could be used to purchase maybe half of the needed equipment, new and in-country, but that would disregard the purpose of the project, to get the entire district on the same technological level. I decided that this wasn't a 'take what you can get' situation. And, to the disappointment of my in-country partner I chose to not submit the grant. It wasn't because I didn't like the idea, I knew the grant would have been rejected if it was clear the goals and objectives of the entire grant would be unfulfilled. I began to lose hope that this project, like so many others before it, would end up in the pile of 'almost but not quite' projects.

I decided that instead of completely throwing the idea out I would reach out to local businesses, embassies, and large offices. Somebody must get rid of old computers, and maybe, just maybe, they could be recycled and donated to our project. After a couple months of hearing nothing I began to move on and found other projects to occupy my time. But finally, a couple of weeks ago I got a message from one the embassies in the capital, they were getting rid of computers and were looking for someone to take them, and quickly. DIBS! So, overnight I had ten computers and this project was going to happen.

Now that I had the computers, I needed to figure out how I was going to make this project work. I decided that I wanted to try my hardest to do this project without using any grant money, which complicated things slightly, but meant that I needed to be resourceful. The computers would be donated without hard drives. How could I get hard drives? This, I decided, would be the responsibility of the beneficiary mayors office. Each office would be responsible for donating the funds for their computers new hard drive. This would financially bind each office to their computer, also ensuring care for the product. The next challenge was finding someone who would be willing to install all of the hard drives *for free* and make sure they operate correctly. Who could do this? Oh right, I am in a country full of fellow peace corps volunteers, I put good money on assuming someone in the group knew how to install hard drives and operating systems. My assumption was correct, and I am happy to report this Sunday I will be sitting around the peace corps office 'over seeing' the installation of hard drives and paying my happy helpers in lots of delicious pizza. The next challenge was transport, moving the computers from the capital of Moldova out to Nisporeni. My partner in this project, NGO EuroInform, is headed by a great woman Inga Savin. Inga has a brother who owns a car in the capital and has agreed to drive the computers from the capital out to Nisporeni at no cost, what a great guy! Now, after the computers have been delivered to each of the offices we need to put on trainings to ensure that the offices know how to use their new technology. This was where I worried I would run into problems. Who would be willing to come out to Nisporeni and put on two four-hour trainings for the staff of the beneficiary offices? This, I still have not fully figured out. But, another volunteer has promised to put on the trainings if no other group is identified, and this would take care of the rest of the needs of the project.

Today, as I write this we have mayors coming in to the office to sign contracts outlining the offices responsibilities of the project. These responsibilities include, the financial contribution, written assurance of  attendance at the trainings, the procurement of internet, and maintenance of both monthly internet and computer repair costs. Also, the stipulation that at no point may the computer be moved from the mayors office, and that the computer now belongs to the office and this is independent of the political party holding office.

Of course these contracts always come with a barrage of questions and I have done my best to answer them. 'Are the computers new?' 'No, the computers are five years old.' 'Do they have flat screen monitors?' 'I don't know I haven't seen them yet.' 'Well, I don't want it if it's old.' 'Well, like I said, they are five years old, they should be relatively modern.' 'Can I keep it at my house? That is where I do most of my work.' 'No, it must be kept at the office and be used for official work only.' 'I do official work at my house.' 'Well, you can continue to do official work at your house, but when you want to use the computer you will need to go to the office.' ....You get the idea.

But, for now I must go. Two mayors just arrived and I need to explain the set of contracts that are being filled out and agreed upon. Lots of good things happening in Nisporeni. These are the days I know why I am a peace corps volunteer. These are the moments I live for in Moldova.

Peace to you on this December day!

A Week Of Food- Hram (City Day) and Thanksgiving

Last week was a week full of food, friends and host family. Not only was Thursday, Thanksgiving, but, Wednesday we celebrated Hram (City Day) here in Nisporeni.

Hram, is a holiday in Moldova that celebrates the city, town, or village that one lives in. Every town has their own day. And, Nisporeni happens to have it's Hram every year on November 21st. So, Tuesday evening host mom and I began the preparations for the big meal we would have on Wednesday.

She requested I make pizza, this has become her go-to dish for me to make. I'm honestly not sure if she really likes pizza or she likes the fact that I can make pizza. Regardless, I was more than happy to lend a hand in the kitchen. Now, if you have ever been to Moldova you know that pizza here is not the same as pizza back home. The standard pizza in Moldova arrives with a layer of mayonnaise. To be honest, I'm not sure why this extra topping is deemed necessary but alas it is, and so we peace corps volunteers adapt. Now, when I make the pizzas' at my home in Nisporeni we play by American rules. No carrots, or cabbage, or funky mystery meats, and definitely NO mayonnaise! No; we go classic. So, after I had made my homemade dough and rolled it out on the counter I asked host mom where the tomato sauce was that I would be spreading over what would, undoubtedly be bubbly chewy golden crust. I knew I was going to be disappointed when she said, well I don't really like tomato sauce so instead I bought an alternative. 'Here we go', I thought, 'here comes the mayo...'. And then, host mom pulled out a packet from the fridge and there in her hand was a bag of tartar sauce. ...................................... Let me just let that sink in for you, my lovely reader................... Host mom was asking me to defile my beautiful pizza with tartar sauce. But, then she smiled and said 'I think this will be better, don't you?' The thoughts that raced through my mind were not particularly pleasant, but after a few seconds and seeing the big goofy smile on my host moms face I conceded and squeezed the contents of the tartar sauce packet out onto the beautiful dough I had prepared. These are the trials of a peace corps volunteer. It's a hard life, right? I'm thinking I'm going to be chowing down on some seriously delicious pizza and than I'm covering it in tartar sauce. But, you know what, these are the things that a year and a half in Moldova has deadened me to. I challenge any Moldovan to shock me, at this point, it's not going to happen. And, after a year and a half, that tartar sauce pizza, I hate to admit, didn't taste half bad.

Thanksgiving is always a crap time to be away from home, but this year I decided I would celebrate with my host family. Last year I was off with other volunteers and we had a very American thanksgiving lost in some bloc-apartment in Moldova. This year I wanted to celebrate slightly differently, I wanted to involve my host family. They have, after all, involved me in all of their special celebrations, it was my turn to show them how we Americans do the holidays. So, Thanksgiving morning I awoke early to start to cook for the entire day. I was happily interrupted by some lovable family members who had dipped into the holiday punch early and decided to skype with me before getting a little rest before the big day. I baked and cooked all day. I would make anyone who knew me in my 'previous life', as the girl who could barely make ramen noodles correctly, very proud. I happily scrambled, mixed, chopped, sauteed, molded and stirred my way through countless hours of Christmas music, kitchen dancing, and cooking! And later that day, when a couple of volunteer friends arrived in Nisporeni, we streamed a live broadcast of the Macy's day parade, sipped on festive holiday drinks, and enjoyed each others company. Later, at meal time we all sat down together, as volunteers and host family members, as Americans and Moldovans, and had very special bi-lingual Thanksgiving (my first ever!).


Hope you had a happy, peaceful, and thankful Turkey Day across the pond!

Girls Weekend

Last weekend I went on an adventure up to the little village of Oliscani to join in a 'girls weekend', celebrating the birthday of a fellow volunteer.

Saturday afternoon a group of boisterous volunteers piled into a routiera (mini-bus) and headed for the north of Moldova. We arrived in the little village in early evening, and walked through the muddy roads to our hosts home. From there we made the trip to a sauna where we would be spending the night. We indulged in delicious cheese burgers and onion rings before heading to the sauna room. It was a fun night of sitting in the sauna, dunking the cold waiting pool, and chatting with new friends.

The following morning a group of us made our way to the bus stop. Actually, it was less a bus stop more a corner of the road. We walked a mile and a half through the cold and fog to reach this corner, and there we stood and waited.

After about ten minutes a packed mini-bus sped by us, with a destination in the adjoining district. This was a good sign, at least there were buses running. The bus we were waiting for finally appeared another twenty minutes later. We were all freezing, and I believe I did a happy dance when I finally saw the bus. We waved it down, ready to hop on, and then it also flew past us, ignoring our flailing arms. The sinking feeling started to grow in our stomachs, at this point we just wanted to get in a moving vehicle, it didn't matter what, just as long as we were out of the cold and headed in the right direction. We began to feel pretty helpless knowing the next bus wasn't for another five hours, were we really going to be stuck on this corner for five hours? Finally, after our hopes had been sufficiently diminished, a miracle mini-bus turned down the street. We waved it down and sure enough, it stopped to picked-up all five of us, disheveled sleepy and cold girls. None of us cared that we had to stand in the isle. We were just happy to be on a mini-bus headed to our destination. When we reached the next district exactly five people got off the mini-bus opening up just enough seats to allow all of us to sit down for the remainder of the trip.

 It ceases to amaze how things in Moldova have a way of working themselves out.   

Happy Monday!

A Year With Host Mom

How do you bond with your family? In my experiences its developed over years of living together and loving one another. But, how do you bond with a host family? It was a new experience for me, coming to Moldova and living with a host family.

At first it's just down right awkward. Not only did I not know the language, but I had never been placed in a situation that resembled this before. I didn't know where I fit in, what my role was. Was I just a person renting a bedroom in their house? Was I just the strange foreign girl who spent a lot of time in her room? At first this is how it feels, just trying to blend into the background and not ruffle feathers.

But then, after about a month of quiet dinners it's time to make the move towards a new sort of relationship. I started slowly with host mom, bringing up simple subjects to discuss. Before I knew it we were talking about our lives, our hopes for the future, advanced subjects of conversation that later I would think about and wonder how I understand anything that was discussed. Host mom (this is her name to me thus the lack of 'my' in front of host mom) has easily become my best host-country national friend in Moldova. I tell her everything and in turn she does the same. It's a pretty great relationship, I find myself missing home (in Moldova) when I am way in the capital or visiting other volunteers. I consider myself exceedingly blessed to have been able to live with her.

This week marks a full year in Nisporeni, and a full year with host mom. We have come a long way. In this year not only did I meet her, but I got to know her and her family. This past year I attended family parties, helped with house work, went to a family christening, attended a wedding, made house wine, conserved fruits and vegetables, had visitors, and began to call Nisporeni my home. I can honestly say that after this year living in Nisporeni I will always call Moldova my second home. Peace Corps is a roller coaster ride for emotions, health, and mental well-being, but I have had many of my high moments here when simply sitting at a table drinking tea with host mom.

Our latest form of bonding has come from a Turkish TV series, Suleyman Magnificul, we watch every Monday and Tuesday night from 8-10:30pm. The series is in Turkish with Romanian subtitles, if asked a year ago if I would be reading a foreign film in a foreign language I would've laughed. But, without fail we watch, it's dramatic and over-the-top and host mom and I can't get enough. Later in the week we discuss what happened and our predictions for the next weeks show. --'I don't think she killed him.' 'I agree but, she does have a temper. I wonder if the Sultan will bring her back to court because he loves her.' -- These are the things that bring us together, the things I will always remember from my time here.

Multumesc mama gazda, a fost un an placut cu dumneavoastra. Sper ca inca un an impreuna cu multi fericiti.
Thank you host mom, it was a enjoyable year with you. I hope we will have another happy year together. 

Peace to you, on this last day of October.

A Simple Weekend

Well, the cold has arrived and with it the rain. And, so I will write of my simple and happy 'weekend in'.

I opted to stay at site this past weekend and spend some quality time with my host mom. She and I have grown close and I enjoy the long conversations we have about all facets of life.

The weekend started after work Friday. I found myself brewing up some hot spiced cider and reading in my big cozy bed. A perfect way to end a hectic week.The following morning I took a trip through the rain to the local shop, just a few blocks from our house. Host mom wanted to make soup for dinner so I volunteered to pick up the cabbage. I hid beneath my black umbrella, its purpose quickly waning as the holes in the lining grow, hitting my face and hands with cold drops of autumn rain. I returned home without everything host mom had asked for, the shop was out of peppers. She didn't mind, the soup could still be made without the peppers. As she chopped and stirred the soup we chatted about how fun it would be if she could come with me to America, we could open a Moldovan restaurant, she could cook and I could do the books. What fun she had laughing about the prospect.

My host mother is truly an amazing woman. Having grown up with four sisters and a brother she has countless stories of her childhood and fond memories from her weathered life. She moved around Moldova when she was young, living near sisters who had moved away from home, but finally her husband Mihai was able to wrangle her in, and she has lived in Nisporeni ever since. The home she has built would make anyone proud. With her husband working abroad for more than a decade she has put her time, resources and care into making her house a comfort for even my first world tastes. But, its not just the house that she has built, but the life she has built, to truly be proud of. My host mother is one of the kindest women I have ever met. She works hard as the accountant for the local pharmacy where she is fifty percent owner. She looks out for her neighbors and often invites people over for dinner, just to make sure they don't go to bed hungry. She is patient with everyone, especially me, which I am so thankful for. Above all of that she has integrity and compassion that can only be learned from years of living a full life.  

 The weekend ended up more livelier than both host mom and I had thought, with the arrival of my host sister and her husband on Saturday evening. I found out she would be coming following my lazy Saturday afternoon nap. I made my way into the kitchen confused to find host mom preparing several different dishes. She had already made the soup, on a normal weekend that would be both our lunch and dinner, something was up. I asked host mom what she was doing, she turned around smiled and responded 'Olga is coming'. After speaking with her daughter multiple times that day it seemed she had won in persuading her daughter to come for a visit, contingent on the preparation of a few favorite dishes. It was a welcome surprise after a gray and rainy day of tea and movies.

My host sister, Olga, is a spirited young woman. She commands the room and always makes a statement with both her beauty and her bubbly personality. I am quite reserved as compared to my host sister (this might come as a surprise to many of you). She is quite the Moldoveanca (female Moldovan), her tall slender frame and her always pristine makeup make her easily the object of passerby's affection. But, she is more than just her beauty. She works hard and has created quite a career for herself, constantly jetting off to international conferences all around Europe. It is always a pleasure when she comes home for a visit. She always livens up the mood, and shortly after her arrival pop music is streaming throughout the house.

That evening we toasted with cognac and house wine. What were we toasting? Who cares! We made the visit a celebration, who needs a reason beyond that? The following morning we all woke up to find host mom yet again hard at work in the kitchen making another meal to warm our tummy's.  I decided today I would try and make an apple pie for everyone. It is apple season after all, and any excuse to fill the house with the aroma of cinnamon I will take. After looking at recipes I opted for a much simpler apple tart recipe. I must say, I have become quite the cook in the past few months. I guess cooking and baking aren't as horrible as I had made them out to be. And, the end result is so delicious. I got the stamp of host mom approval and a request to make it again soon, don't have to ask me twice.

Sunday afternoon Olga left to get back to Chisinau and host mom and I fell back into our routine. The weekend ended just as it had began. With a big mug of hot cider and a good book, all tucked into bed.A perfect way to prepare for another week.

Peace on this Monday ~

Rekindling The Fire

Lately I have realized how my thoughts quickly jump ahead to the future. What does the future have in store for me? It's quite a looming question, what will I do after Peace Corps? So looming in fact I have already begun to lose sleep over what I will do, where I will live, when this will all happen. You get the idea. All of these thoughts have consumed me the past month or so. This was brought on by seeing the year of volunteers ahead of me leave and struggle to find their place back in the US.

I have realized that worrying is one of my favorite things to do. But, really where does worrying get a person? Besides curled into the fetal position with a stomach ache. So, I am officially challenging myself.
Challenging myself to live more in the moment and less worried about what the future holds. Life has worked out pretty well thus far. I  will always be type A, to the point of no return. I know I will stress over the little things and fear for what my future will be, but I must not let that ruin the present.

So here is my challenge to myself: I will live in the moment and appreciate the beautiful country and people who surround me. I will take in the little bits of sunshine left before the winter. I will eat all the grapes I can fit in my stomach before they turn to raisins. I will get crafty in my free time. I will work hard with my work partners, and be okay if this doesn't equate to the grand development I had originally hoped to see. I will share stories and laughter and tea with my host mom. I will remember to smile at people, even if they think I am crazy in the head. I will not take the relationships in my life for granted and I'll learn to give more praise for all the wonderful things people are doing.

And, I will work everyday to rekindle the fire I had inside me when I joined the Peace Corps, 15 months ago.  

Peace to you!

Wine

September has rolled around once again, and with the cooler weather comes wine making season!

This was my first year of making wine. Last year a few obstacles stood in the way but, this year I was not going to let the season pass me by. So, when the temperature began to drop and the sun began to set earlier I knew it was only a matter of time before we would be out in the garden picking grapes.

Wine is a big part of the culture here in Moldova. Moldovans are very proud of their wine, and every household makes their own house wine (vin de casa). And, every household believes their wine is the best, this is shown time and time again when visiting new people. The house wine always flows generously. Furthermore, When driving through the countryside of Moldova one easily sees hundreds of family grapevine plots dotted over hills an valleys. It's quite beautiful, the rows of vines bobbing and twisting around mid-height stakes in the ground.

When the time comes to conserve fruits and vegetables here in Moldova, host mom and I go out into the garden and pick said fruit/vegetable completely from its source. We leave no piece behind. Host mom, like most Moldovans conserve in large batches. One day of conserving kilo upon kilo of pickled tomatoes and it is done and taken care of for the winter. There is no difference when making wine. We went out into the garden with buckets and proceeded to pull every last bundle of grapes from the vine.

After the grapes had been collected we brought them over to a large wooden open-top barrel where we began to process all the grapes through a hand-crank grinder squeezing the grapes and depositing them in the barrel. We cranked through over 200kg (2.2lbs per 1kg) of grapes that day. Hello, arm workout. When the grapes are all squeezed then its just a waiting game.

The grapes naturally ferment overtime and by the third day it was time to siphon the wine out and put it into the holding container. This part of the process I was interested in viewing as the barrel was up in the front yard and the holding container for the wine was down in the cellar. But, my confusion was quickly erased when I saw the long hose borrowed from a neighbor dipping into the barrel with the grapes and extend down into the basement ending in the other container. For the rest of the afternoon a parade of helpful neighbors came and went, monitoring the progress of the wine. A couple of days later the remaining grape pits and grape skins were manually put into another small press and squeezed of their excess liquids. Ending the wine making process with an empty wooden barrel and a large holding container of wine in the cellar.

My favorite moment in the process was when one neighbor complained of being tired and the other neighbor chirped in "Yes, fall is tough but when winter comes what will we do? We will sit with our feet on the heater and a glass of wine in our hands." I will cheers to that!

Here's to the coming winter, with our feet on the heater and a glass of wine in our hands!

Peace

A Wedding In Moldova

Last Friday I attended my first Moldovan wedding.

My host cousin married his fiance and I was invited to partake in the celebration. The event was held at a wedding hall in the neighboring district of Ungheni. Host mom and I prepared in the afternoon, got into our party dresses, and played around with our hair for a good hour. Well, it was mostly me playing around with my hair until I was able to put together something that was deemed suitable.

We left the house around 4pm and made the short trip to host aunt's house. There, with many of the other family members, we prepared to depart for the wedding. Preparation for departure included dressing-up a roasted chicken with a cellophane skirt, a string of olives necklace, roasted potatoes in gold tinted aluminum foil, and many other little details I have since forgotten.

When guests of the wedding arrived at the parents of the grooms home, they were ushered into the sitting room, where a quick toast to the wedding was made and the drinking was commenced. After guests were left to their own devices to enjoy the company of the others who had already gathered to chat about the falls harvest, grape prices, and the drudgery of a summer without rain.

I wanted to make myself useful and asked what I could do to help. This somehow was construed as 'I am hungry, feed me now'. I was whisked into the kitchen, sat at the table, and handed a large mug of tea and told to eat. I suppose the biggest help I could be was staying out of the way. So, that's what I did. Truth be told, I am quite good at sitting at a table and drinking tea.

Around 6:00pm we embarked from host aunts house in the rented routiera (mini-bus). As usual, there were several more bodies than there were seats, and a quick dash into the house for stools to be placed in the row between seats was made before we departed. The routiera was well past its prime, and whatever shock system it once had was long gone. So, in the very back row, crammed between the window and a few healthy women I swallowed a dramamine (thank god for those little pills) and prayed that the routiera wouldn't break down half way to the reception. We bumped and tossed our way there and around 7:30pm we arrived at the event hall.

We waited outside the event space for awhile, the entrance is important, we had to wait for the right timing. Around 8pm we made our entrance. Joining the rest of the guests who had already greeted the couple and were now forming a giant circle around the newlyweds. After everyone had given their best wishes, a few rounds of the hora (traditional circle dance) were danced before we entered the dining room.

 I had a really great seat in terms of view. I was seated with the immediate family members at the table directly next to the newlyweds table, with a great view of the rest of the guests. Prime location, score. Host cousin carried his bride into the room and to their table where they would be sharing the first official meal as husband and wife.

Moldovan weddings are a very important part of the culture and as such, no expense is spared. This is most apparent in the meal that is served. When guests walk into the dining hall the tables are already set up with plate after plate of food, covering every single table. This is one of the biggest differences between a Moldovan wedding and a American wedding. In America, the catering company knows the headcount of the guests and provides food accordingly. Also in America, time and thought goes into creating a centerpiece for each table. At a Moldovan wedding the tables are literally covered with plates of beautiful food. No space is left on the table for any sort of centerpiece, I couldn't even put my cell-phone on the table, it was filled to the brim.

The MC for the evening kept the guests excited and the atmosphere light. We dined on the first 'cold meal', drinking champagne toasts, and watching traditional Moldovan dancers sweep over the bits of free space between the tables. After the meal we adjourned back to the dancing room where the bride and groom shared their first dance, complete with fog and bubble machines. Dancing commenced after this. I like the way Moldovans dance. Everyone has their own sort of space to dance, it's also quite calm, a back and forth motion with hands slightly raised is good enough, and for me that is about all I can manage. The dancing went on for a number of hours, coffee and tea were served with some mid-evening cakes.

When the dancing finally came to an end everyone made their way back into the dining room. It was time for the second 'hot meal'. Before this meal, the chicken that had been dressed up earlier in the day was presented to the god couple of the newlyweds. This is also a Moldovan custom, the newlyweds choose another young married couple to act as their mentors in marriage. I like this custom of seeking a couple to mentor and guide couples through good times and bad. I would imagine this system comes in handy when the couple needs a third parties advice, who better to turn to than people who are entrusted with the role to love and support the couple? After the funny chicken is delivered, the hand washing ritual is performed with the newlyweds washing the hands of their god couple. Following the hand washing, braided round bread and wine is served as a toast to the god couple. The 'hot meal' is then served, customarily this includes sarmale (grape leaves wrapped with rice and meat), and some meat dishes.

When the second meal has finished the couple than gets toasts from nearly everyone at the wedding. This was the portion of the evening that definitely strays from what we Americans would consider good etiquette. At the end of every toast the person announces how much money they are giving to the couple and then the money is placed into a large glass vase. My host mom explained that people are to state how much they are giving so no one takes advantage of the couple. Luckily, host mom took the microphone when it was our turn and I was spared from having to state how much I was throwing in the pot, she said it for me. This sort of thing wouldn't fly back home.

Following the toasts, we went back out into the dancing room and watched the bouquet and garter tosses. Then the couple sat on two chairs in the middle of the room and proceeded to get presents placed in front of them and blankets strewn over their shoulders. After some time they had been completed buried in the blankets. The guests would go up, wrap another blanket on top of them, duck down and wish the couple well. They were swallowed up by all the blankets, it was hot just looking at them sitting under the growing pile. When the parade of well-wishers and presents finally ended the couple emerged from the pile and waited for the presentation of their wedding cake. I shouldn't have expected anything less but, out came the huge three tiered cake with sparklers going off and music playing. We dined on cake and coffee for the remaining time.

And then, the most humorous thing happened. When people had finished their cake everyone slowly disappeared back into the dining room. I wondered what was going on so, I made my way with the crowd. And there, I found everyone taking plastic produce bags and filling them with all the plates that still had food on the table. All the food was taken, down to the last slice of bread. Host sister could tell I was slightly thrown off by what was happening and she explained that every place setting of food was about $80 and so all the food would be brought home and eaten later. The plates were scraped clean, the wine pitchers were emptied into containers, the half full bottles of cognac and vodka were consolidated or drank, and the dining hall was left empty of food and drink. 

I do love weddings, they are such a beautiful celebration of love. Watching the way the bride and groom interact, and seeing the way they look at one another is so special. I was honored to have been apart of one of the most special days of their lives. And, I don't think I could have gotten a better example of a truly Moldovan wedding.

At the end of the night, we filled our arms with all the leftovers and piled into cars to make the journey back to Nisporeni. We arrived back home around 5am. I was told to change, and that we were going back to host aunt's for the after party. After party? It was 5am, I was done. I told them to go on without me, I had experienced all the Moldovan wedding I could for that day. I was tired, and it was time for the lame American to go to bed. They understood, I said my good nights (probably should've said good mornings) and headed off to bed. As I dozed off I was happy to have experienced such a night. And then I went to sleep, mind full of champagne bubbles and Moldovan folk music.

And to the newlyweds,
Multi fericire si drum bun in viata! (Much happiness and good travels in life!)

Peace

Family Visit!

The end of August I had the great privilege of showing my family my life here in Moldova.

I woke up early the day they were flying in. I couldn't help but be a big ball of excitement and nerves. I took an early bus into the capital and waited patiently at the Peace Corps office before it was finally time to go to the airport and pick up my dad and brother. The day of their arrival also happened to be the same day as an important visit from the German Chancellor and so, it was quite busy both on the road in to the airport, and at the airport. Extra security had been put in place, lining the road every 100 meters from the city center in to the airport, to make sure the first visit by this high profile guest would go as smoothly as possible. I couldn't help but laugh and think about how I would later make a joke about how I had informed the Moldovan government of my family's coming and that they were sparing no expense for their arrival.

Like a giant loser I broke into tears the moment I finally saw my dad and brother after more than a year apart. Those two hugs were what I had been waiting for so many months. We quickly got our footing, finding our way to the rental car agency and after a few set-backs we were on the road with our car for the next week and a half. I had put in a call earlier at an apartment for rent, so we had a place in the capital to use as a base for our adventures around Moldova.

We took that first day easy, getting some lunch at a local Greek restaurant, a favorite among volunteers. We took naps at the apartment, we had drinks at an out-door bar, and ate dinner at a delicious restaurant. The restaurant was also notorious among volunteers, but known more for its high price-tag on a volunteers budget, rather than as a frequented joint.

The second day we got an early start. Dad made American coffee just the way he always does. It was odd, sitting on a fold-out couch in this high-rise apartment in the middle of Eastern Europe with so much of home in this one apartment. Sipping the beautiful coffee, talking with my family, it was a surreal moment. Similarly it was weird later that day driving in the Moldovan countryside listening to my dad's ipod playing through the speakers. (I was a passenger, not a driver. Don't worry Peace Corps, no rules were broken.) We visited a couple of famous monasteries on the second day. The first, Capriana, beautiful and white with black domes. The second, Hincu, huge and currently under construction. Overall, it was a successful full day of site seeing.

The following day we visited a famous winery, Cricova. With over 170 kilometers of underground storage space its the largest underground wine village in the world. After our tour we buzzed out to a little village, Clisova Noua, in the central region of Moldova to visit with a local artisan who I had worked with the previous week on marketing and collaboration of a new step-by-step guidebook. She happily showed us around her museum, show-room, and work space. Her plucky disposition brightens anyone's day and it was a great little side trip for our day.

The next day we went to the Gustar festival of traditional music, held annually at Orhei Veche, one of the most famous monasteries in all of Moldova. The sun was blazing hot out in the field where the festival was located but, we stuck it out to hear the prime minsters opening remarks and the first couple of bands play. After the festival we went and picked up all the supplies needed for the bbq the following day. It was overwhelming to go and buy all of this food, like I mentioned earlier, our volunteer stipends heavily restrict our spending.

The following day, Sunday, was my 23rd birthday. We woke up early and went to the market  in my town in order to stock up on all the fresh fruits and vegetables that would be needed for the day. After we went back to the house and spent the rest of the day cooking lots of food and waiting for the arrival of a few of my volunteer friends. The ladies finally arrived in the afternoon and we spent the rest of the day eating, drinking semi-cold beer, and enjoying each others company.

The 27th of August is Moldova's Independence day. We stayed in Nisporeni and enjoyed a quiet day. A couple of my host mom's colleagues came over and met my family, there were toasts made and even more food eaten. It was slightly rainy outside and we opted out of the festivities in the center of the town for an evening in, eating homemade chicken noodle soup and chatting with my host mom.

The next morning we woke up early to say goodbye to my host mom and head off for more adventures. We spent the morning in Nisporeni. I was able to show my family the work I am doing with the Craftsman house for the dance studio, I took them to my office where they met both the vice president of the district and my awesome partner, Vlad. After, I took them to another volunteers site, Sadova, to see the work that he did while he had been in Moldova. Later, we reached Chisinau where we stayed the night.

The following day we woke up at the crack of dawn. We wanted to get an early start, as we were headed to Odessa, Ukraine for the next two days. We drove through the countryside of Moldova, it was pretty seeing the soft lighting of the morning bathed over the little villages we buzzed through. We reached the border early and after some slight confusion purchasing car insurance for our stay in Ukraine, we were on our way into the city.

Once in Odessa the task of finding the Black Sea became our number one priority. I got frustrated trying to communicate with people. Everyone spoke Russian, I have next to zero understanding of Russian. Although, after some confusion we finally found the beach. We walked down the beach until we found a big beautiful hotel directly on the beach that was deemed good for both my dad and brother. A fancy hotel room was purchased for the night and our mini-vacation was underway. We spent some time on the beach, some time in the roof-top jacuzzi, and dinner at the roof-top restaurant with a view of the hotels biggest attraction, a dolphin show. The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast at the roof-top restaurant before we went in search of the most famous landmark in Odessa, the staircase. After exploring the historical center of the city we decided it was time to figure out how to get back to Moldova. The map provided to us by the hotel wasn't entirely accurate and made our navigation slightly more stressful than helpful. Luckily, a generous stranger who didn't speak a lick of English or Romanian signaled for us to follow him and he showed us where we wanted to be, thanks friendly stranger! We re-traced our steps back over the border and in to Moldova. I was relieved to be back on 'my territory', I don't tend to stress too much when traveling alone or with a friend but, with my family I easily get stressed knowing their standards are a lot higher than mine. But, we were now back in my comfort zone, it's funny that Moldova has become 'my comfort zone'.

The last full day was spent leisurely, we woke up late and ate delicious homemade omelets with fancy blue cheese that was bought the night before. Later, we went out to lunch and after explored the mall. That night we went back to that expensive restaurant (in the eyes of a Peace Corps volunteer) that had clearly become my family's favorite. That night we enjoyed each others company before it was time for them to head home, and me to head back to the Moldova I was used to, the one without the rented car, the centrally located apartment in the capital, and the many meals at restaurants.

The next morning we packed up everything and headed to the airport. We sat at the airport, sipping on coffees and waiting for their flight. It had been a good visit that none of us will ever forget. They were able to see a lot and, meet the people who make up my life in Moldova. I was so proud to show them my little corner of the world here.

Peace to you on this September day!

Finding Love In The Peace Corps

Today marks a special day. Not a special day in my Peace Corps service but, a day that marks a year of love that was found in the Peace Corps. It's funny really, the reasons we join the Peace Corps, to find greater meaning in our own life, to help the global community on a grass roots level, to foster a better understanding of our nationality abroad while developing our own sense of pride for our homeland and our new home abroad.

I had a laundry list of reasons as to why I wanted to join the Peace Corps and no where on the list was 'to find love'. I was so sure I wouldn't find love that I went out of my way to pack long-lasting, low-maintenance, frump-a-licious clothing, that would later stand in the way of my trying to find a suitable outfit for the rare occurrence of a date night.

As anyone who is in a Peace Corps relationship knows, the frills go out the window from square one. But along with the frills goes the make-up to mask insecurities, the cars that easily transport you to that person 24/7 allowing for quick-to-form dependencies, and the salary that pays for expensive lifestyles that can lead to shallow intentions. And, after all of these factors are taken out one is left with the opportunity to meet a person and get to know them in a unique environment, away from the hustle and bustle of our busy American lives.

Falling in love with an American in Moldova has been one of the best things to happen to me. Meeting that person and knowing they care for you, not because you are wearing nice make-up and own in-style clothing. But, rather share a deep and meaningful connection in the world around you, share a similar temperament and moral compass, while also sharing awesome common interests like travel, finance and delicious food, is a wonderful backdrop to the beginning of a love story.

Our love story by no means is extraordinary and, I won't sit here and ramble with our 'how we met' story. We both regard ourselves as rather average Americans, we both have plenty of flaws that make up the fabric of who we are, Peace Corps has a special way of teaching a person patients and that has helped us both in our own lives and as a couple. We just happen to be two of the lucky ones who found each other, thousands of miles away from home.

Making a two year commitment to Peace Corps is all a part of the journey. And, he had been in the country a year when I arrived. From the start we both questioned whether we were fools for letting ourselves fall in love, knowing we would be a part the following year. We decided to let our hearts command the decision, pushing our (perhaps) better judgement aside. So today, on our one year anniversary, we will sit on opposite sides of the globe. Connected by a shaky stream of internet, we will chat on skype, and play a rousing game of online scrabble. It won't be the anniversary we would wish for but, it will be unique nonetheless.

The year of skype dates has officially commenced.

...No one knows what the future holds but, I do know that I am so lucky to have found a person I love so much and if my luck doesn't run dry this year, our second anniversary together (hopefully in the same place) will be all the sweeter.

Love and peace

Summer Camp

Last week I worked with the American Council in Chisinau as they put on a summer camp for students learning English. The week was fun but very very hot (high 90s and low 100s). The campers and staff were all lodged at a local private school in the capital and from there all lessons and activities were facilitated.

The first day of the camp I was told to find my way to the school by 2:30 in the afternoon, that was when my responsibilities for the day would be kicking-in (earlier than most days). I had gotten directions to the school from a few different sources but none of them seemed all that confident in their explanation. I began to worry that finding the school might actually lead me to being late, which I hate to be. So, after finding another volunteer who had been out to the school before for a different conference I was able to persuade her that escorting me to the school was a really fun idea, and of course I would throw in her public transport costs as good measure. With my handy escort in toe we headed out at about 2pm. I was told it would take no more than twenty minutes to get to where we needed to be. We hopped on a routiera headed out to the section of town we were looking for, not paying much attention to specific numbers. This was mistake number one. We also informed the driver of where we were headed, the Science Academy. He nodded and told us we would be going there. I saw this as a great sign.

We were passing all the landmarks I was told to watch out for so I asked the driver to stop. As we were getting off he looked at us and told us this wasn't the right place to get off. The location we were going to was over a bridge and so we figured maybe the driver was going to loop back around and would drop us closer, thanks driver guy! So, we patiently sat back down waiting for him to make the loop. The loop was not made, and we turned down a little street heading in the opposite direction from where we were headed. No problem, we still had 15 minutes, we could still easily make it with a few minutes to spare, if we turned around...right now.

The driver pulled up in front of a large building and told us this was what we were looking for. I knew immediately we should have gotten off earlier when he said this. The other volunteer and I explained to the driver that, no, this was not what we were looking for. We wanted to go to the Science Academy and he was pointing to the Academy of Administration. After a long winded arguing match, where he told us to get out and check, he finally realized that we were not going to get out of his routiera. Begrudgingly he brought us to the end of his route, pulled over, and asked some of his buddies who drive the same route, if they knew where we were looking for. Of course they all finally understood, and the driver took the opportunity to tell us that we were looking for the Science Academy School, and had we said that, he would have known what we meant. (I'm sorry but I don't see how this makes a large difference, in no way is science the same thing as administration, and there were no other science schools in the area.)

I now had five minutes to get to the school. We got on one of his buddies routiera, that was headed out on his route, so that we could get off where we had originally wanted to get off, after paying another ride fee of course. Finally, we were back in the area we needed to be, but we still needed to walk to the school. We now had two minutes to somehow find the school. I knew I was going to be late, I had to face the facts. I grabbed my cell phone that had about half a minute of credit on it and dialed the number of the camp director and apologized for my tardiness, but that I would in fact be there in the next fifteen minutes. He seemed un phased by my absence, I guessed this was a good sign. After walking in the wrong direction for about five minutes my helpful escort (just kidding Katie) realized we needed to be going the other way. We turned around and finally made our way in the correct direction. What had been a planned twenty minute trip somehow turned into an hour. I hurried into the school and went in search of the campers. When I finally found them they were busy at work on a scavenger hunt. The director told me that they had changed the schedule that morning and that I wasn't needed until 5pm. I was relieved but also thought it would have been nice to know about that an hour ago. Nevertheless the rest of the day went smoothly.

My responsibility at the camp was the 'team building' portion of each day. This portion of the day came at the very end of each day, usually after dinner. I got the students when they were worn-out, tired, and all they really wanted was to lock themselves away in their rooms and speak Romanian after a long day of non-stop English. But, I was in charge of creating a couple of hours of fun in their day. Now, I don't think I would necessarily say I am great with kids which led  me to wonder how on earth I was going to keep a group of high school students engaged and participating in whatever 'fun' activities I had up my sleeve. After a rousing name game we played a couple other team building games, which to my delight seemed to be enjoyed by all the students. Clearly the rest of the day was dedicated to academics and this was their one chance to play and goof around.

They were all enthralled in the fact that I was an American who actually enjoyed living in their country and would be spending my week playing with them each day. It's comical how one becomes popular based on ones nationality over here.

The rest of the week fell into place quite easily, the students enjoyed our sessions and, I enjoyed their enthusiasm. By the end of the week we had all built that traditional 'camp bond'. They were all truly sorry to be going and they sweetly gave me hugs as we parted ways. I promised to make a surprise appearance at their lessons sometime during the year, I'm not sure how much incentive that is to continue attending the classes, but hey, maybe it is.

Just another summery week over here, wishing you sunshine wherever you are!

Posh Corps Vacation (Part 2: Turkey)

After bidding farewell to Sidian early Sunday morning we hopped on our flight to Istanbul, found our shuttle bus, and arrived in Taksim Square a few hours later. We were able to check-in to our hostel for the night and from there we worked on figuring out how to get in to the historic center from our positioning in the new district. I was pretty grumpy from our early morning flight, our less than appealing 6 person dorm room at the hostel, and my empty stomach. Thank goodness Sam is good with maps and was able to eventually navigate our way to where we needed to be. After getting some food and water into our systems we both were feeling much more chipper and we headed to the Basilica Cistern to view the famous pillared water reservoir. Later we went to Topkapi Palace, where generations of Sultans lived. It was massive, with sumptuous gardens and vistas overlooking the strait. After we got our fill at the palace we found our way to the famous Galta Bridge with its restaurant and pedestrian underpass and its daily fisherman bobbing and dangling their poles over the side of the upper-level of the bridge where proper traffic can cross. We grabbed a couple of fresh fish sandwiches at one of the cheaper options, with a sandwich for a mere 5TL (Turkish Lira) about $3USD. After getting our fill of the sights in the old district for the day we hopped on public transport back to Taksim Square and the new district, where our hostels were located. Of course I had to get my daily dose of rice pudding (a common dish in Turkey and one of my favorites!). We strolled down the ever hectic main street in the new district before calling it an early night.

The next morning we woke up and checked out of our first hostel (we only had one night there as our plans had changed from when we had orginally booked so; this was merely a stop over before the hostel we had booked for a number of nights). To both of our delights the new hostel, with the private room and bathroom, was much more to our liking. After a couple cups of coffee we headed out to the famous Grand Bazaar. This place is a site to see. Thousands of people flow in and out of the little lanes that make up the network of the massive Grand Bazaar. Hawkers come up with clever ways of rousing their potential customer. Sam and I heard such lines as; "I need the money." "Come in, I have bad things. Oh no, I mean good! Good! Wait, it's good!" "Have I see you before?"...and on and on they went. We had fun exploring, it's so colorful with fabrics, and glass lanterns, and of course rugs. The only thing in our budget was taking pictures, but that was enough for the both of us. From the Grand Bazaar we made our way down to the Spice Market. It was interesting to see the in-between space, a newer market had emereded that sold the same goods as in the Bazaar at a fraction of the price. I can't help but admit I did find myelsf a few lovely little trinkets to take home with me, mainly dried apricots and a pretty blue scarf (which I successfully haggled down to a price I thought was reasonable). It was such a fun day, the people, the sounds, the smells; it was a feast for the senses. The Spice Market was just as interesting; piles of colorful spices lined the stalls. People promising their products integrity, "would you like a try?". After all of this window shopping we were both exhausted and found a few moments of rest in the courtyard of a beautiful mosque. Later we enjoyed a glass of local brew, Efes, before grabbing another fish sandwich and high tailing it back to our hostel for some much needed rest.

Our third day in Istanbul we decided to go on a cruise down the Bosphorus Strait. After reading our guide book we got to the docks early and scoped out the best seats up on the top deck. We spent the day lazily winding our way up the Bosphorus take pictures of the coastline and enjoying each others company. The boat docked on the Asian side of Turkey just in time for lunch. The pushy wait-staff turned us both off, and we instead decided to forgo lunch and hike up the hill and get a view of where the strait empties into the Black Sea. It was really beautiful, and we were both glad we had made the hike. At this point we were getting quite hungry and after we did a little reading in the guidebook, realized there was a bakery where we could pick up some cheap eats. We got a traditional corn bread with sardines and leeks baked in, it was delicious and even better, no one was standing outside yelling at us to 'come-in and get a special deal'! A while later and it was time to get our boat back in to Istanbul. It was a lovely day trip, and definitely a fun way to get my first glimpse of Asia. The boat ride back was just as pleasant and we were deposited back at the dock in Istanbul in the late afternoon. We got a couple of fish sandwiches (see a trend?) before heading back to the hostel for some rest. Later in the evening we both got hungry and picked up some lahmacun, a flat bread dish with ground meat and seasoning. Sam and I both decided fresh lemon juice makes almost anything taste better, and almost every restaurant and street cart offers a fresh squeeze of lemon to its dishes, we approve.

The next day we headed to the Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque; the most famous sites in Istanbul. We stood in a long line outside the Hagia Sofia and were approached by countless tour guides offering the 'best tour'. We patiently waited in the line and paid our entrance fee and enjoyed all the beauty of the Hagia Sofia has to offer. Once a Mosque, among many other things, it is now a museum. We took our time taking in the high ceilings, archways, painted and engraved artwork and the many other vast differences between this once-place of worship, as compared to all the other churches we have seen in other parts of Europe. After we had gotten our fill we meandered outside only to find the call-to-prayer had begun and the Blue Mosque would be closed for about an hour before would be closed for about an hour before we would be able to go in and view it. Later, when it was open we returned and were able to go in and view this working mosque. It was truly beautiful but, Sam and I both felt slightly out of place, and didn't want to over stay our welcome, so we took it in and left shortly after. We made our way down to the docks and hoped on a public ferry that brought us to the Asian side of Istanbul where we got off and looked for a restaurant we had read countess reviews for. We both got flustered and lost trying to find the restaurant and I finally went in and asked a hotel concierge to get directions. None of the workers knew English but, one of the men knew where the restaurant was and motioned for me and Sam to follow. Before we knew it he was walking down streets and turning corners and led us all the way to the doorstep of the restaurant. It was very sweet of him and Sam and I both thanked him before he turned around the headed back to the hotel, now that is customer service! We ate delicious meal of traditional Ottoman inspired dishes before we headed back to the European side, and on to our hostel. In the evening we sat on the roof top lounge and enjoyed a beer and a chat with a couple of travelers from Australia who were heading to the US in a couple of weeks. We were sure to share with them a few must-do's and must-sees while in America, including; buying gigantic 64oz slurpees at 7-eleven, going to baseball game, shopping at Super Wal-Mart, and eating at the Golden Corral buffet. It was fun evening, thinking about the rather awesomely disgusting American stereotypes they would have the pleasure of viewing, and in a weird way it made me homesick.

Our last full day in Istanbul, we took in at a slower pace. We found a coffee shop near our hostel and sipped on coffee and read for a couple of hours. Later we found some Turkish pizza, called pide, for lunch. After we headed in to the old district and went to the Islamic and Turkish art museum, yup another museum. We both agreed it didn't turn out worth the admission price but, 'you live and you learn'. The rest of the day we spent milling about. We meandered back through the bazaar and markets; we enjoed the Ramadan holiday market that had been set up in the main square next to the Blue Mosque. It was a carefree day, our final day together until Christmas.

The last morning was tough. I will never be good at 'goodbyes'. And, they are made tougher when you have to say it to someone that is loved so dearly. But, I have been reminded it is not goodbye forever, it is a see you soon.

The trip was amazing and the memories created will never be forgotten. This trip, traveled with the man I love, is just the beginning. And, I couldn't be more excited for whatever is next for us.

I am blessed and I am so stinkin' happy! I do recognize this, through my happiness, help others to see the happiness in their own lives.

Peace to you my friend ~

A Posh Corps Vacation (Part 1: Greece)

When I went to University I was no dummy. I knew I wanted to live in the international dorm, not just to enhance my own world view but, to meet new people and hopefully make meaningful friendships that would someday allow me to see the world in my favorite way, through the lives of my friends. And hopefully, I would be able to return the favor and they would be able to visit me wherever in the world I am. Because, in my mind there is nothing better than a familiar face in a far-off land. (Take my two previous blog posts as an example of that!)

One of the very lucky parts about serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Eastern Europe is the potential for some pretty sweet travel opportunities. One of the unlucky parts about this is the financial cost of visiting these places. This is where those international friends come in handy! One of my good friends and co-workers back at UNH is from Greece, and so when I was thinking about my summer travel plans I thought what better way to see Greece than whilst visiting an old friend. And so, a couple weeks ago my boyfriend Sam and I departed on our European adventure before he headed home (he completed his service and is now a RPCV, I'm so proud!). We left on a night bus to Bucharest, tickets flying out of Romania are nearly half the price as flying from Chisinau, and our early morning flight got us in to Athens around 9am. Sidian, my friend who lives in Greece, picked us up at the airport and drove us to his cousins apartment where we were staying for the week. The first day was leisurely, we had a lovely lunch with Sidian and his father at a restaurant in the center of Athens. After Sidi headed back to work and Sam and I headed out to explore the area a bit. We walked all around and saw Parliment with the guards and their funny pom-pom-ed shoes, we walked through the royal gardens and over to the modern historic Olympic stadium. It was a laid back day after all of our traveling. Later when Sidi got off work he took us to his friends coffee bar where we sat outside and enjoyed the atmosphere and sipped on ice tea. After Sidi took us to Lykavittos Hill, a big hill in the middle of Athens, with a pretty little chapel on top and some of the best views of the Athens skyline at night. It was so beautiful and definitely a 'I am so blessed' moment, I had countless moments like this on the trip.

The second day in Athens, Sam and I decided to sleep in a tad and rise at 9 am to catch up on the sleep we had lost from our overnight travel ordeal. When we finally got in to town we explored the central market and, I was able to pick up a half kilo of apricots to munch on for only .25 euro. ( I can't help but succumb to a deal like that.) Lunch was lamb kebabs from a famous kebab restaurant, but the key is to order on the street that way you can take them away and its only 2 euro, rather than sitting where they jack-up the price by more than triple. I'll happily sit on a curb and eat those kebabs any day of the week. After lunch we made our way to the Archeological museum. Now, I wish I were the kind of person to take great pleasure in museums but, after years of trying to pretend like I am moved by clay pots I know who I am, and I am not a person to ogle over old clay anything. Sam, on the other hand, loves museums and the kid could honestly spend days staring at those damn pots. So, I tried my best to be upbeat about the whole museum situation, after all I was in a new place to learn, an afternoon learning about a collection of 16th century clay pots was the least I could do. I know what you are thinking, spoiled American, I know I kind of think it too. But, to be honest I would be just as happy sitting on a park bench people watching for hours so, to each his own, right? That night Sam and I prepared salad and spaghetti with homemade tomato sauce (that I made from scratch, thank you very much). Everyone seemed to enjoy it, or they were all real good pretenders.

The third day was our big 'tourist day' we woke up early and headed out to the Acropolis before it got too busy and too hot. We spent the morning exploring the Agora, the Acropolis, Dionysus theater and the temple of the Olympian Zeus. We again ate delicious gyros for lunch before hitting a strategically placed visit to the AC-ed Acropolis museum in the afternoon. That evening we had a Chinese food feast at Sidi's father and step mothers apartment it was delicious, after we hiked up a hill in Sidi's neighborhood that gave us a unique view of the Athens skyline through the trees.

Our fourth day in Athens we decided it was time to hit the beach. We got some traditional Greek pies for breakfast before heading to the coast via the public tram. The beach was busy but we were able to find a spot. It was ridiculously hot out and Sam and I spent most of our time in the water just trying to stay cool. In our mind the beach was pretty great, later talking with Sidi and his friends we were told that this is the 'worst beach in all of Greece', I guess ignorance was bliss for us. Although the day resulted in some pretty pink sun-burns for Sam and I, guess the sunscreen wasn't waterproof. In the evening Sidi took us to a museum that had free admittance on Thursdays. Here is my abridged version of what I understand the museum to be, a collection of a bunch of old junk some disgustingly rich old dude had and turned into a fancy-pants museum when he died. Was that an offensive enough summary for you? I think I was just disappointed in seeing more damn clay pots, although some of them had some pretty erotic scenes etched on them so that was entertaining. Sam was annoyed when he caught me giggling and taking pictures of a vase with just a guy standing in the nude with his mass at full salute (What? I need to entertain myself somehow, while he is educating himself).  I have to give it to him though, the old dude had some pretty nice jewelry in his massive collection of junk, bravo for his wife.

The fifth day in Athens we headed off to the island of Aegina. About an hour off the coast of Athens it is lesser known than the island of Hydra and half the ferry price, but, I would like to think boasts many of the same quaint island qualities. We got to the island in the morning and found ourselves some coffee before we milled about the island exploring the little cobblestone lanes. It really was beautiful and had an entirely different feel from Athens. We enjoyed the 'island time' lifestyle for the day and sat out at a nearly deserted beach right next to some Greek ruins before finding our way back in to town for a delicious seafood lunch. I am still daydreaming about the mussels. Aegina is the island known as the birth place of pistachios so in the afternoon Sam and I found ourselves relaxing, sipping a couple of local brews, munching on pistachios, smelling the sea air and reading. Absolute bliss. In the evening we hopped on our high-speed ferry back to Athens and met up with Sidi and his friends for a few drinks at a local bar.

The final day in Athens was another relatively lazy day. We took our time getting up and heading in to the center. We got coffee and sat out planning our next leg of the trip. We walked down the touristy streets and I picked up a few things for people. We walked around the Plaka, an area up around the Acropolis that is especially pretty, after we had a bite to eat before heading back to the apartment to wait for Sidi to get off work. When Sidian got home he drove us out to one of his friends homes on the coast outside of Athens. We went to the beach and it was so amazing. The water was crystal clear and the sun was beginning to set. It was refreshing getting a couple more hours floating in the salty sea water. His friend, Pavos, made us a delicious dinner and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out on the roof patio of the house. When the sun had fully set, and the sky was dark for the night it was time for us to head home. We thanked Sidi's family that night before bed, our flight the next morning was far too early to naturally be awake. They were some of the most wonderful and gracious hosts I have ever had the pleasure of staying with. They truly made our visit all the more special and invited us back whenever we please.

The next morning, we awoke early and Sidi generously woke up on his one day-off to drive us to the airport.

We were off to Turkey, for the final leg of our amazing trip.


  

Meg's Visit!

July has turned out to be quite a busy month. Between friends visiting, traveling and a summer camp to assist at my days have filled up quite nicely. But, before I get too ahead of myself I will jump back a few weeks to the very beginning of July when one of my oldest and dearest friends came to visit.

Meaghan had been studying and working all year in Germany and before she headed back home we both decided it was too good of an opportunity for her to miss, so she simply had to come visit me all the way over here in Moldova.

So, on the evening of June 30 I hopped on a rutiera and was off to the airport to pick-up Meg. Of course like a blubbering fool I cried when I saw her and we shared a big hug before I welcomed her to my new home, Moldova. We both hurried outside to catch a rutiera back in to the center of the city and only ran into a few scoffs and scuddles with the patrons on the rutiera who were unfamiliar with people speaking in English. That evening we took things slow, we went out to dinner and we headed back to a friends apartment in the city.

The following morning I had a meeting to attend for the summer camp I will be working at later this week. Unfortunately for Meg that meant she was dragged around with me to the meeting and got to listen in on all the insightful information sharing that played out. After the meeting we headed out into the city to do a bit of exploring. I showed her 'the sites' which takes surprisingly less time than one might think. After we picked up a snack and headed back to the PC Office to hangout before it was time to head out to watch the final game of the Euro Cup.

The next day we headed out to visit the most famous monastery in Moldova, Orheiul Veche. I had been once before with my training group but, I figured it would make for a good day trip for the two of us. So we went to the station and were directed to a rutiera that would be driving by the monastery that we could hitch a ride with. An hour later we were dropped in a field near the monastery and we were off to exploring the caves carved into the hills and the cows grazing in the fields. Now, if I had been a more prepared host I would have realized that getting to the monastery would be a lot simpler than getting back to the capital where we needed to pick up our rutiera to head to my site. So, after milling about the monastery for awhile I pitched the scenarios to Meaghan.
1. We could wait until the evening when the rutiera would be coming back through and could flag it down and hop on. This option would have us getting back to my site well after dinner time, and I still needed to get grocery's.
2. We could hitch-hike. Anyone in the US reading this is probably disturbed by the thought of this, and I was initially too. However, in Moldova it is common practice and completely safe, you even pay the driver who picks you up. It truly is a fair and square deal. But, after giving it a little thought I knew Meaghan's mom, the notorious Mrs. Britain would probably chop my head off if she found out I took her daughter hitch-hiking in Eastern Europe (Oh hey, Mrs. Britain!).
So, I opted for option 3. Ask the people at the monastery if they had space in the car to bring our sorry-bums back to a main street so we could hail a passing rutiera.
After conversing with a Moldovan family with a full car I began to think hitch-hiking might be the only option but, luckily enough for Meg and I, a family that was quite clearly tourists walked up the path. After some slight hesitation I asked them if they spoke English, which they did, and awkwardly explained our situation. "We are just visiting the monastery for a couple hours and had hoped to catch a public transport vehicle back to the capital, but we were told when we arrived it won't be coming until this evening. I know this is a bizarre question to ask but, if you have space in your car would you mind giving us a lift to a main road on the way to where ever you are headed? We are both American and would be happy to give you some gas money for the ride?" To our delight they gave us a slightly hesitant yes. The Swedish family, mom, dad and daughter were all very pleasant. Meg and I found it funny, the mom sat in the back seat with us while the daughter sat up-front. We know how that conversation went "I am NOT sitting next to them, mom." The car ride was quick and we were dropped at one of the main traffic circles only a few kilometers outside the city. Of course they wouldn't accept any money and wished us well as we left. We both wondered if our families would do the same if the scenario had played out differently, we both agreed our families would help out a couple of strangers in our position. After all, we are two pretty harmless looking girls. Moments later we were on a rutiera headed in to the city. Back at my site we cooked up some burritos for dinner, that I later shared with host mom and host aunt. We watched a bit of online tv before we nodded off to sleep. It had been quite an adventurous day.

The next morning we took our time getting ready and headed in to the center of Nisporeni town just after noon. I showed her the dance studio project I am currently working on, and my office. She was very patient while I worked for a couple of hours at the office. Later we picked up supplies for dinner and were able to get a lift back to the house by host moms work partner. That evening host mom cooked us some delicious placinta (homemade cheese-filled pastry) as always it was superb! We had another lazy night in Nisporeni, filled with picking apricots of the sparse tree in the chickens coop and stuffing our faces with delicious food.

The final day Meaghan was in town was the fourth of July. Unfortunately the celebrations were slightly underwhelming for her. But, we had a good last day. After a couple of hiccups we were able to get her bus ticket to the airport in Bucharest and she was on her way that evening.

It was such a fun visit, I'm so happy she was able to come and see my little life here in Moldova. I know it is something special that she and I will remember for many years to come.

So, when are you coming to visit? I'm patiently waiting for my next visitor! :)

Peace

A Visit From Friends

Last week I had the great pleasure of having a couple of friends visit me here in Moldova. Taras and Deanna were in Ukraine visiting family and enjoying the Euro Cup and decided that a jaunt over to Moldova to visit yours truly would be a fun addition to their adventure.

 Early last Tuesday morning I hopped on a rutiera (mini-bus) and was off to the capital to pick up my friends at the airport. Everything went off without a hitch, we met up, and we were all on our way back into the city center within a matter of minutes. I took them back to the Peace Corps office to drop off their bags and have a cup of coffee before we meandered into the center and had a delicious lunch at my favorite Greek restaurant. After lunch we strolled around the center, I showed them the main square and basilica before we made our way back to peace corps and later on to the bus station where we hopped on a bus back to my site, Nisporeni.

We arrived in Nisporeni in the early evening and headed to my house to begin work on our big delicious dinner. Host mom was home and ready for us when we arrived. I got to work making the fried summer squash and host mom prepared the placinta (stuffed pastry with sheep's cheese filling). We also made bbq chicken and fresh tomato and cucumber salad. It was a huge meal that took 4 hours to prepare but, it was completely worth it. That night we watched the match between Ukraine and England in the euro cup before hitting the hay.

So, the next day we all headed into the center of my town. The walk is usually pretty enjoyable, Nisporeni is situated on a hill, and the walk is just a clear shot down the hill. Unfortunately for my friends it was by far the hottest week we have had in Moldova since I arrived over a year ago. The entire week was a forecast of heat above 90F with no chance of rain, fun times! We first walked to the craftsman house and I showed off the under-construction dance studio I have been working with since November. After we walked to my office where they met my awesome partner, Vlad. Rather than milling about the town we stayed in my office where it was cool, until it was time to head home and collect our bags. We got on an early afternoon rutiera in to the capital and spent a good chunk of the afternoon in the air conditioning at peace corps. Luckily, we were able to rent an apartment with air conditioning so we were able to escape the heat. That night we went to a fancy restaurant near the apartment, Pegas and enjoyed a leisurely dinner.

The following day Taras and Deanna rented a car to take them to the monastery Orehei Veche, the most famous monastery in Moldova. I stayed behind to get some work done at peace corps. We met up later in the afternoon and enjoyed some pizza before watching another soccer match in the city center.

The final day we walked the city a bit more, through the art market and central market and enjoyed an early lunch before it was time for Taras and Deanna to head off to the airport. It was a short visit but, it was so great to finally get a chance to show-off my new country and my new life here in Moldova to some familiar faces from home.

So, if you are reading this and have ever wanted to see a funky part of Eastern Europe this is your cordial invitation to please come visit! I have indoor plumbing (Posh Corps!), a big bed and a host mom that cooks like a chef.

Next week I welcome one of my closest friends Meaghan to Moldova, she has been in Germany for the past year and she will visit me before heading back home to New Hampshire, I am highly anticipating her arrival!

All for now!

You Know You Have Been In The Peace Corps A Year When...

Well, a year has come and gone and I guess its time to put together another list:

You know you have been in the the Peace Corps for a year when--

You forget common everyday English words.You also exchange English words for the new language you have learned. It makes sense to all the volunteers who now make-up your social group, you don't understand when people outside this circle can't figure out what you are talking about.

You now have the patients of a monk, or at least it feels like it, nothing phases you. Sitting on a hot bus for hours with a baby crying and livestock on the seat next to you is just another day.

You no longer worry about whether a dish is clean, you eat off it. You no longer worry if the picked fruit is washed, you eat it. You no longer worry if your hair is greasy, you put it in a pony tail.

You begin to miss food more than (some) people. You begin to day dream about the moment you get off the airplane and are greeted at the airport by your family...and a burrito.

You forget how to be normal in American social situations. Having gotten used to not shaking hands with people, women are left out of this custom in Moldova, I proceeded to wave at people when I met the new volunteers. No handshake, just an awkward two-foot from the person wave.

All the clothes you brought with you are now well-worn, baggy and missing a button. You come up with new clever ways of making them wearable...and chic if I may say so myself. The elastic waist band on your gym shorts goes and so, you use a belt to keep them up. This also serves as entertainment for your host family. Host mom couldn't stop laughing at me up in the tree with my belt hanging down from my big shorts. Whatever, I rocked it.

And, you accept the fact that you will always look and sound like a foreigner and embrace the good and bad about this fact.

It's really quite funny the difference a year makes.

~Peace

A Year Of Peace Corps Service In Moldova

It is hard to believe that today, June 8, 2012 marks one year in Moldova.

It has truly been a year of new. ...New country, new people, new culture, new language, new food, new, new, new. It has been one of the most challenging and rewarding years of my life. No, the time didn't 'fly by' as many like to say. The winter months were really tough, the language barrier was often very awkward, the cultural misunderstandings were embarrassing, the pickled vegetables...well, they got old. But, somehow with the support from family and friends back home and in Moldova I was able to get through. And as my high school track coach always said 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'.

And so now, I will take a moment to reflect and share four of the lessons I have learned about myself and Peace Corps service in Moldova this year:

Firstly, the hardest part of adjusting to life in the Peace Corps for me, was learning to live life at a 'slower pace'. Now, what I didn't realize was that this is actually a loaded statement. It is kind of a sugar coated way of saying, 'Brittany, you will be playing a very long game of 'hurry up and wait''. As most people who join the Peace Corps, I thought it would be my way to change the world, sure it would be small but, in my heart I imagined that it would be profound. Upon arrival I was told, almost immediately, to lower my expectations. "No, you aren't going to change the world. No, you aren't even going to change Moldova. But, if you are lucky you will do some good and make some life long friends." Our awesome country director reminded all of us that our job here wasn't to 'change the world', it is to promote peace and friendship. Even though this was explained to me, I don't think I fully understood what that meant until later when I was settled in at sight. The image of success I had in my mind had to be tossed out the window, or else I would have felt like I was accomplishing nothing for two years. On these challenging days I looked to my fellow volunteers for support, and they remind me that I had left my bedroom that day, so I was in fact doing my job. Truly understanding my job description, of promoting peace and friendship, meant that if I simply lived my life in a positive way I would be fulfilling my duties. It was hard for me to fully come to a mindful and satisfied understanding of this but, as time went on I began to feel more confident in the fact that I am fulfilling my purpose here in Moldova.

Secondly, after understanding my role as a Peace Corps volunteer I decided it was time for me to simply live. I took part in community events, went to the office on a daily basis, and got involved in activities that interested me. Along the way I was able to find work for myself that wasn't forced, organic relationship grew, and slowly began to see my own impact in the community. The biggest part of this came from realizing that if I wanted to have an impact I needed to find a sustainable venture that could exist and thrive after I departed. This lead me to realize that the media takes the angle of sustainability in the environment and consumer goods, not so much on the sustainability of business or development. I had never thoughtfully reflected on the importance of sustainability in business development. And so, after a long while of waiting and building relationships I was finally asked by members of the community to help with a project they were invested in. This was exactly what I had been looking for, a meaningful project that the community wanted, not some exorbitant project I had worked up in my romanticized mind that would fall apart the moment I left Moldova. The lesson of understanding and following the path to sustainability has been a lesson I hope to take with me into all my future work.

The third lesson I have been learning is the importance of balance in life. I tend to throw myself fully into whatever it is I am doing, to the determent of everything else. All of my time, effort and might goes into trying to perfect myself in that given area. This sort of lopsided lifestyle gave me heavy anxiety and fear about even the most minor of things. Peace Corps has allowed me the time to readjust what I value. Speaking with host country nationals about work, life and relationships I have learned a lot. At the end of the day we all have been blessed with life, choosing to spend it sitting at a desk or worried about a deadline detracts from enjoying all the beauty that surrounds us. There will always be work to be done, but like host mom says 'the strawberries will only be in the garden for a few weeks'. Life is too short to spend worrying about building a career, having a perfect resume and, spending more hours in the office than everyone else. Sometimes we just have to turn off the computer, go pick some strawberries and enjoy the company of those around us. This will be the hardest lesson to translate back into my American life. I feel I am a hard wired workaholic. During those moments of stress I will think back to the days in Moldova, when I would get home from work early and host mom would already be home in the garden BBQing with neighbors, a glass of house wine waiting for me on the table. Sometimes we just have to leave the worries behind and quite literally enjoy the fruits of our labors. (...I'm telling you the strawberries are out of this world good!)

 The fourth and final lesson I have learned is that no matter where I am in the world, the people that surround  me make everything worth while. Its amazing to me, the goodness of people. Here I am, an early 20-something female American, coming to this little land locked nation speaking in broken Romanian and trying my best to somehow make a difference. My host mom has taken me under her wing, her enduring patients and acceptance of me into her family has turned into the most meaningful relationship I have in Moldova. She doesn't have anything to gain from me living in her home, and yet somehow she has made me feel warm and welcome. Back home I depend, like most, quite heavily on my ability to verbally express myself. Sometimes this ability lands me in a predicament because I often speak too quickly and find myself regretting whatever has just spilled from my mouth. So, a chatty-kathy now living in a country where she doesn't speak the language. I think I it would shock my friends and family back home to see me sitting quietly, anywhere, let alone everywhere. It is surprising to me how many meaningful relationships I have been able to forge given my lack of confidence in my language skills, and yet somehow a smile and a shrug can diffuse almost every situation. This process of learning another culture could not have happened without the wonderful people who have made this experience unique and memorable.

So, a year has come and gone and I have worked to understand my place in the community. I have begun to see where I can have a sustainable and meaningful impact in this little pocket of the world. A year that has opened my eyes to the healthfulness and happiness that can come from living a more balanced life. And, a gained appreciation for the people who fill my life, both in the US and Moldova.

Congratulations to all of the other Peace Corps Moldova M26 crew! We did it, one full year!
Noroc -- Cheers
Peace
-B

Cherry

Many people have a romantic picture in their mind of 'eating with the season', becoming one with nature, planting your food and watching it grow. Well, I am here to tell you that idyllic picture you have in your head is quickly destroyed after month upon month of potatoes, cabbage and pickled vegetables during the bitter cold of winter.  But, I must also tell you that is what makes the first cherries of the season taste that much sweeter. I honestly believe that the fruit I have eaten for the past couple of weeks will be the stuff I daydream about in the middle of February, something colorful, long-gone from my plate.

There is very little I love more about Moldova than being able to go out into the garden after work and picking a bowl full of fresh strawberries.I am lucky enough to live with a really wonderful host mom who happens to have a huge garden. It is well stocked with big cherry, apple, apricot and nut trees, rows of strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes, dill, parsley, green onion, cucumber, and grapes. Currently we are enjoying the cherry tree, it's branches dipping low weighted down by the cherries, and the best strawberries I have ever eaten. 

I was brought up with the understanding that fruits, berries in particular, are expensive. It was a true treat to have berries of any kind and they came in tiny cartons, and were coveted. So, I am used to eating these expensive fruits maybe once a week in the summer, and a few times in the winter. My stomach just isn't used to playing on the Moldovan level of fruit consumption. Because most Americans don't have their own fruit and vegetable gardens we value fruits and vegetables in a different way than Moldovans. In Moldova, if it grows in your garden it is fair game. The seasons don't last long so when they are around you gouge yourself with the stuff.

A couple of nights ago host mom handed me a bag and asked me to go get some cherries. I was excited for this task. So, I stood beneath the big tree, tugging on the branches to reach the higher cherries and quickly filled my shopping bag. I proudly trotted back into the summer kitchen where host mom had finished cooking dinner and we sat down to our bowls of boiled potatoes and bag of cherries. She seemed pleased with my quantity of cherries, and I thought to myself, this is great, we won't need to pick more for at least another couple of days. Little did I know, host mom insisted that we finish of the entire bag of cherries at the table that night. Now, I love fruit, especially after a seemingly endless winter of gray, beige and white, but this was to the extreme. I told myself that I hadn't taken enough of an advantage of the fruit season last year, and that this year I would eat myself sick before I would refuse these beautiful morsels of sunshine. So eat myself sick is exactly what I did that night. After a giant bag of cherries was consumed by host mom and myself I had a pretty excellent stomach, did I care, nope, was I going to do it again the next night, absolutely! Fruit season comes but once a year, for these fleeting moments I will happily gorge on all the fruit I can get my hands on. I will adopt the Moldovan view on fresh fruits and eat them like they are going out of style, because well, they are!

Cheers to the cherries, Friends!

Mr. Jon

A couple of weeks ago I attended my host aunts birthday party. While there I met a boisterous middle-aged man who introduced himself as Domnul Ion (or Mr. Jon). He was a loud happy fellow who was curious about me and my Peace Corps service. He asked me why I hadn't been to visit him at the mayors office yet, and I had explained to him that I didn't realize there was a mayors office in the town. (Side note: I live in the county center and work for the county council, which hosts the county president, and so I was ignorant to the existence of a mayor. I know, shame on me.) He seemed nice enough and very eager for me to come meet with him. I asked him where I could find his office and he gave me the specific directions of 'the second floor'. I couldn't help but laugh at this guys opinion of himself. *How do you not know me? I'm Mr. Jon.* With a flush red face for committing such a heinous crime as to not know who this random dude was I agreed to meet him somewhere on the second floor of the mayors office the following Tuesday.

Tuesday morning rolled around, and I completely forgot about my appointment with Mr. Jon. Knowing myself all too well, I knew that I needed to get myself into that office building sometime that week or, I would be too chicken to go find this guy another time.

Thursday afternoon I worked up the courage to go looking for Mr. Jon on the second floor of the mayor's office. I walked the long hall way peeking in open doors and reading name plates on closed doors. None read, Domnul Ion. So, I stopped at one of the open doors and timidly asked a friendly looking older gentlemen if he could tell me where I could find Mr. Jon. The man looked at me blankly and asked 'which Mr. Jon?'. Great, of course there is more than one. I hesitated, and began to explain...unfortunately for me all I could remember was that he was short, middle-aged and over weight. But, since Moldovan's are relatively blunt about these things I just dove right in- 'Umm, the fat one?'. 'Yes, he is down the hall. Speak with his secretary.' ...his secretary? So, I head down the hall and find the room. Sure enough the exterior room has a desk with a older woman sitting at it. I asked if Mr. Jon was free, and that I was a volunteer who worked at the county council. She gave me the typical one over and asked me what country I was from. I told her I was a Peace Corps volunteer from the US. She told me to wait a moment while she checked with Mr. Jon. I told her, it was no trouble if he was busy I would be happy to come back another time. She ignored me. She went to the door and said "Domnul Primar, este o fata frumoasa pentru dumneavoastra". Great, so my introduction was "Mr. Mayor, there is a beautiful girl here for you." So this Mr. Jon guy was the mayor, and I blew him off on Tuesday and now was being introduced in the middle of a work day.

So, after being waved in to the office I took a seat along the wall. Mr. Jon was on the telephone. His office is large and holds a conference table that began to quickly fill up with young members of the mayor's council. My mind was racing, 'God Brittany, what did you get yourself into, he is about to have a meeting and you are sitting here looking like an idiot'. When he finally got off his phone he told one of the women sitting at the table to move and told me to come sit in the empty seat. All eyes were on me. Now, I don't mind introductions in America, where I am comfortable with my speaking skills and general competency but, in Moldova it is a whole other story. So, with my bright red face I smiled and sat down.

Mr. Mayor introduced me, saying 'Everyone, this is Brittany, she was supposed to come on Tuesday, and what is today? That's right, Thursday. Better late than never I guess. She is a volunteer from America and I want you all to know her.". Already making an impressive first impression, great job Britt. I started by apologizing to everyone for my two-day late arrival, and giving myself a very short introduction before they went around and introduced themselves to me. It ended up being a fun first meeting with all these new faces. A couple of the young women even spoke some English which was a nice surprise. Like most first meeting I was asked the standard 'are you married' question, with the follow up 'oh, you should marry so-and-so and bring him back to America'. Luckily enough for me Mr. So-and-so was sitting across the table from me and I dove into yet another awkward red-faced smile and explanation that I am actually not single.

The conversation soon shifted, much to my relief, and the Mayor was now focused on my getting him a big beautiful American flag to be hung outside in honor of our great friendship. (...That had been fostered over a night of house wine and now an awkward meeting in his office. But hey, if that doesn't say great friendship, well, what does?) I scanned his office and saw that he already had a good sized American flag hiding in the corner. I pointed it out. 'No, no, no that is not nearly grand enough to represent our friendship'. I than explained that I don't actually have the money to purchase him a big flag. In no time at all he had come up with the solution to my money problem: 'That's fine you will write your president and he will send you one'. And, with a solution like that I couldn't help but respond: 'Oh yes, well the President and I are great friends so that will work great'. ...silence... Followed by, 'Great!'. And, the joke was lost. Oh well, I tried, I did clarify that I was joking and that let out some smirks and laughter. The topic was soon changed and bottles of soda were put on the table along with a pile of biscuits and chocolate, we all became acquainted and I promised to attend an event they were throwing the following day with the British Embassy.  I am glad that in the end I chose to follow through, and even though I didn't make it to the office on the agreed day I hope to keep up a relationship with the Mayor's office during the entirety of my service.

And so, that is the story of how I got to know Mr. Jon.