Brining the District of Nisporeni into the 21st Century: Computers and the Local Government

Well, with just under two months left I have started to work on wrapping up my projects. And, I am happy to report that I have FINALLY finished up the computer project that I have been working on for over a year. The idea for the project came to me from a previous volunteer who lived in the district and explained the situation to me. I learned from him that there were many mayors offices in our district that didn't have a computer in their office. It was hard for me to believe at first, how could a district in Moldova (a country that prides itself on excellent internet accessibility) still have local government offices working without a computer.

So, from that day forward I began the long process of identifying the offices without a computer. The list turned up with 10 offices of the 23 offices didn't have a computer. This led me to my second step. Finding computers. This was a long and arduous process. From writing grants, to having donors fall through, to disagreements between myself and my non-profit partners.

Finally, after I had nearly given up all hope on seeing this project through to fruition I revived an email telling me that there were second-hand computers available through a major office in Chisinau that would be donated to project without a fee, if I could find transport to retrieve said computers. After a few phone calls the project was 'back on' and pick-ups were being arranged.

After we had received the computers we were alerted to the next hurtle. The computers were not equipped with hard drives or RAM. Now, I knew going in we would need to find new hard drives so we asked each office receiving a computer to pitch in order to cover the price of the hardware. I didn't realize that this sum they had contributed needed to somehow expand to cover the cost of RAM, installation fees, plug convertors, and cables. This all was going to be more of a challenge than my for a mere dusting of the monitors.

The next step was to find out where to buy the needed parts (in case you didn't know RAM is a temperamental little b;#<h). So, the hunt was on. After a couple months at a stand still I was getting antsy to get this resolved and the daily visits we were receiving from the mayors who had been promised a computer was becoming harder and harder to explain. Finally, after an exasperated conversation with my host mom she gave me the phone number of a local computer repair specialist in town. I reluctantly went into his shop the following morning expecting to hear the usual 'I can't help you' response. But, instead he said 'Sure, I will come by later today to check them out'.

Sure enough, he looked over all the computers and was happy to report that they all would work if he ordered the needed parts. YES! This was the news I had been waiting for, for months. Later that day he sent me over a price quote on how much the work would cost. We were 4000 lei short. How would we be able to finish this thing if we couldn't pay? After long discussions with all of the mayors, explaining the situation we were able to get them all to contribute a bit more for their computer. This contribution, paired with financial support from the head of the NGO and a generous citizen in the capital allowed us to finally finish refurbishing the computers.

Pick-up of the computers happened quickly after the computers had finally been prepared. I don't know who was happier; the mayors receiving a computer for their office or me seeing the computers leaving mine.

Now it was time to organize the second half of the project. Training the mayors and their staff on how to use their new technology. We identified a computer teacher at the local school and chose a date that would allow us use of the computer lab (over a school break).

The morning of the training I arrived at the school. I wanted to speak with the instructor before the workshop began to make sure he was on-board with the agenda. I was disgruntled when I arrived at the school and the only other person there was a young woman who was the representative sent from her village. 'Where is the mayor?' I asked. 'He won't be coming. They sent me in his place.' ... I'd like to take this opportunity to explain that we had the mayors sign multiple contracts stating that they would be receiving their computers contingent on their attendance at the workshop.

So, not only was I standing in the abandoned school five minutes before the workshop without an instructor, but the one person that was their to attend the workshop had been sent because the mayor was 'too busy' to bother to show up to the workshop that he had agreed to attending. Needless to say I was not a very happy volunteer in that moment. Finally, five minutes after the workshop was supposed to begin the instructor rolled in. An older man, tall and broad. It was clear he had been doing this for awhile, especially when I asked him if he had looked at the agenda and if he had any questions his response 'I have been doing this for over 30 years. I know what I am doing.' 'Uh, oh alright well I just thought I would check.' 'No, I have go this. Also, we will have a break every hour.' ...I later learned that the breaks were because he smokes like a chimney.

He was a loud and aggressive teacher. But, he was good. He was very good. He used stories that made it easy to understand information that could easily become complicated. It reminded me of the saying 'If you can't explain it simply you don't know it well enough'. Well, he could explain it simply, and before I knew it nine of the ten mayors offices had arrived and everyone was entranced by the boisterous professor at the front of the room. 

At the end of the workshop I felt a sense of relief. I did it. It was over. And, though none of the mayors came up and thanked me for helping them equip their office with a computer I would like to think that every once in awhile when they send a work-related email or electronically store their files they will think of that annoying American that made them wait months for their computer. I realize this is a romanticized viewpoint, but I am happy to report that even after two years of being a committed and often frustrated peace corps volunteer I haven't lost the little optimist inside me.

All for now,
Peace

Memorial Easter: Paște Blajinilor

This past weekend we celebrated memorial Easter here in Moldova. Memorial Easter is my favorite holiday that we celebrate here in Moldova because it is unlike any holiday we have back home. The holiday falls on the weekend after Orthodox Easter.

Basically everyone goes to the cemetery where their loved ones are buried and enjoy fellowship with their passed family members. At first I was slightly put off by the idea of sitting around drinking and eating in a cemetery but, the more I was able to understand the symbolism of the holiday the more I was able to appreciate how special this holiday is.

My host family and I packed up the car with food, flowers, house wine, and candles. We headed off to the cemetery in Iurceni where my host mom grew up and where her relatives were laid to rest. The day starts off with everyone circled around the local priest where a short blessing takes place, wine and food is blessed and chanting is heard throughout the hill-side cemetery. This cemetery is unique in that it is hundreds of years old. Now closed to new burials it full of character. Trees have grown up around the hill-side and crosses are so close that they create arches that one must duck under to pass through. Birds are heard singing in the trees and wind lightly blows through the leafy branches.

Tables are built next to grave sites in Moldova for this very holiday. We all come prepared with table clothes and blankets for the long wooden benches that have seen the elements during the winter months. After the opening service everyone returns to their family plot where they adorn their loved ones plot with offerings of food, towels, mugs, candles, and a sprinkling of blessed wine. The feast then begins.

Setting up happens quickly. Plates are already prepared and bags are quickly emptied out onto the table. Relatives exchange braided bread, chocolates, towels, dishes, and candles in honor of passed family members. Children come along with shopping bags and much like 'trick-or-treating' in the US, they say 'Christ has risen', and everyone at the table hands over candies and painted eggs, filling their bags with treats for later.

Each family member then goes around the table with a bottle of house wine and a glass and makes toasts to their lost loved ones. Everyone receiving the wine is expected to wish the person a peaceful rest in heaven, and take the poured house wine. After ....an undetermined amount of house wine was consumed... I decided I too wanted to partake in this tradition. I stood up with a bottle of house wine and proceeded to circle the table in honor of 'Sfintul Valarea' or 'Saint Valarie'. It was a special moment to be able to hear everyone wish my mom blessings. One of my host aunts made me tear up telling me that my mom was my angel and that she was taking care of me from heaven. These are the moments I will remember from my Peace Corps service for the rest of my life.

The same aunt later told me that I needed to marry another Moldovan and stay here. She was disappointed when I told her I already had a man in my life. But, she was happy to hear that he too had lived in Moldova and also knew Romanian. She was so pleased by this that she told me that I should marry him, return to Moldova, and she would give me her house. I was flattered by her kindness but told her I would probably be staying in the US so I could be closer to my family. She just smiled and nodded. It's amazing how generous and loving the people of Moldova are... I don't think this will ever cease to amaze me.

It was a beautiful holiday, my favorite in Moldova.

Peace to you on this rainy Tuesday!

Russian Orthodox Easter

This past weekend, we in Moldova, celebrated Easter. Easter is the biggest holiday celebrated during the year over here in this neck of the woods. And, I don't think anyone would argue that Moldovans know how to party. The preparations begin well in advance with the annual spring cleaning. Having now experienced spring cleaning two years in a row I can say that I have gotten a complete education on what it means for a house to be celan. Every surface of the house gets a complete scrub down, including the ceiling, the outdoor car park, curtains get washed and ironed and, all the cupboards get emptied and cleaned. This process usually takes about a week... that's not including prepping the garden, cleaning and re-painting the chicken cope and the outhouse. Like I said, it's a process. All of this gets completed before the big weekend.

Saturday is spent cooking up delicious foods, meats, cheeses, and veggies...and of course the traditional rooster jello. The forty days leading up to Easter disciplined followers take part in a fully vegan diet. So, preparing all of those delicious foods and having to wait until the following day to eat them is quite a test (well, for them, not for me... I ate whatever I wanted). On a fun note, I know I am now truly a part of the family because host mom went out of her way to prepare all dishes with both pork and chicken (because I don't eat pork). It was a full day of cooking but, the day doesn't stop there.

Saturday night everyone heads off to the church for an evening of worship. We left the house around 11pm driving to a big monastery a half hour from the house. Hîncu is a large beautiful monastery where hundreds of worshipers gather to celebrate the holiday.

The service is unlike anything I have attended in the US. At midnight the church bishop and priests exit the church and are greeted by the crowd of followers. Candle light illuminates the darkness. The priests pass off their candle light to the people in attendance, who than pass off the light to each other. the bishop and his buddies then lead the group around the outside of the church abunch of times before they enter the church once again. Everyone crams in and so begins the chanting and singing 'Christ has risen' 'He has risen'... this goes on until about 4am. At 4am the bishop exits the church, this time instead of circling the church he blesses all the poeple and their offerings with holy water. After getting splashed with holy water everyone makes a mad dash back to their cars and home for an early morning feast.

After a couple of hours of sleep it was time to wake-up for another full day of partying. One of my favorite dishes served during Easter is a beet and horseradish slaw, it adds a unique kick to the food. My host brother-in-law taught me the word for the slaw and I was excited to whip out my new vocab word at the table. So, when the food was being served I asked for host mom to pass me the 'hren'. She looked at me taken aback by me request. Host sister and her husband burst into laughter. 'No, Britt you want 'hran'.' 'Why, what did I say?' 'You asked host mom to give you the shit.' ...Thanks a lot host bro. Some shots of cognac later and all was forgiven.

The day was spent visiting family all around town and continuing to fill our already stuffed stomachs and fuzzy minds. You have to love Easter in the 'Dova.

Next weekend? Memorial Easter!

Until then, peace!

I Remember... (Close Of Service (COS) Conference)

Last week my Moldova M26 group had our close of service (COS) conference. It was a chance for us to all get together as a group one final time before we close our service and return to our own separate lives back in the US and abroad. It's hard to believe that we all have been at this for nearly two years now. Living and working hard in our respective communities.

The conference covered the administrative steps we need to follow in order to close our service, and we all took advantage of the opporutnity to enjoy each others company by BBQ-ing and hanging-out riverside.

During the conference we were asked to look back over our service and pick out some of the moments that stand out in our mind. So many moments over the past two years stand out in mind. This post will serve as a chance to mention a few of the moments that have stood out in the last two years. A short reflection as I begin the process of closing my service.

I remember...

Our first day and night at staging in Philadelphia. Everyone was so excited and nervous about what we were to expect in Moldova. I remember sitting on the bus headed to JFK airport filled with so many emotions, knowing I wasn't going to be back for two years and not knowing what was to come. I remember getting on the airplane shuttle when arriving in Moldova and speaking with some other travels asking them how to pronounce the name of the capital, Chisinau.

I remember everyone moving the luggage around and spotting a really cute boy (who later turned into my now boyfriend). I remember being dropped at my pre-service training host family and forgetting the one simple expression I was taught on the way there. I remember standing confused in the outdoor shower wondering where the hole was to pee...and causing my host sisters to just about die with laughter when they realized what I was doing. I remember my utter exhaustion from 6-day a week language lessons. I remember the first walk I took around the capital city and the insecurity that comes with being shuffled into a new crowd in a new place.

I remember moving to my first site in Falesti and how nervous I was to make a good impression. I remember my walks to work through the woods and over a old concrete bridge. I remember getting locked out of my house and feeling alone. I remember going to a house christening and the priest losing has temper at me for taking pictures. I remember the moment I realized I needed to change sites. And, I remember how scary it was to finally make that call to peace corps telling them I needed to move.

I remember my first drive through Nisporeni, knowing this was my new home in Moldova, and feeling immediately at ease. I remember meeting host mom for the first time and being so nervous I could barely get the words together to ask her if I could live with her. I remember thinking how it was going to be a beast to climb up and down the hill that my town is centered on, from my house to the center of town, everyday. I remember knowing I was going to be able to truly accomplish something in my new home.

I remember long weekends in the north of Moldova hanging out with 'the guys', watching football and making all kinds of unhealthy food. I remember attending Christmas morning catholic mass (I am not catholic) at a Russian church with the sermon given in a mix of Russian and Ukrainian. I remember the moment when I was walking around in Chisinau fully confident and no longer uneasy about where I was going or who I came across. I also remember when I finally was able to differentiate between Romanian and Russian in conversations. I remember spring finally arriving after the first winter and enjoying our first beer outside so 'the guys' could enjoy the 'sundress weather'. I remember seeing all of my Moldova M25 friends leaving and wondering how I was going to get on without them.

I remember my family's visit and the shock on their face when they heard me speak Romanian for the first time. I remember the sense of relief I felt when we finally returned back to Moldova after two days in the Russian speaking city of Odessa, Ukraine. And, I remember being so fed up with my brother and his complaining about things that don't even hit my spectrum of irritants anymore.

I remember helping make the house wine my second September in Moldova. I also remember the horrified look on host moms face when I asked her if I could stomp on the grapes with my feet. I remember the sense of pride I felt finally seeing my first big project coming to fruition. I remember weekends spent in Ialoveni with friends making countless batches of brushetta, drinking wine, and watching trashy reality television.

I also remember...

Going to the store and asking if I could buy a rat, because I was making pancakes and need some rat to put in the mixture. Oh wait, not rat, cinnamon. Those words are awfully close. I remember getting on public transport sometimes and thinking to myself *only in Moldova* whether I was standing next to a full size Christmas tree, an open flame, or a box of  full grown chickens. I remember calling the mayor 'fat John' because I couldn't think of a better way of identifying which 'John' I was looking for. I remember my creepy old neighbor telling me that my legs weren't open to him... and him later getting yelled at by my host mom telling him she would call the police and that there would be an international conflict if he spoke to me again (haven't heard from him since). I remember host mom coming home one day in the dead of winter to me upset about everything, so she took care of it by making me dinner, taking a mandatory cognac shot, buying me a present and telling me it would be better in the morning. I remember going home over Christmas and thinking that I wasn't in any form of culture shock/ cultural adjustment...until I realized the day before I left that in the US we throw our toilet paper into the toilet and not into the basket next to the toilet (sorry to family and friends who had a special treat from me in their waste bin). I remember getting a stomach virus on my return from a trip to Morocco and spending several days in the bathroom...and once not making it.

I will remember...

Having a skype schedule with my long distance love back in the US. The sense of relief that flooded my system when the spring sunshine finally came to stay after the second winter. I will remember all the time I spent working on getting computers, getting said computers fixed, and training computer beneficiaries. I will remember host mom telling me that when I go away for weekends that she misses me. I will remember those moments when I was away from site and all I wanted was 'home', but home was no longer America but rather, Nisporeni.

... I am excited to take the next couple of months to continue to reflect on my time here in Moldova, and if I think of any other moments I would like to remember after I return to the US I will post them here.

But, for now...

Peace.

Morocco

Morocco is a amazing country. The landscape is very diverse and the people are so warm and welcoming. Our week in Morocco was truly a beautiful experience. Sam (the amazing man in my life) and I had a great time on our first couple of days in Marrakesh. The city is hectic with people, motorcycles, and donkey-pulled carts all winding in and out of the labyrinth of streets creating a unique Marrakesh-specific feeling. We explored the souks (markets), we visited the gardens of Yves Saint Laurent, and the old palace ruins, we were tricked into a underground tour of the Marrakesh tanneries, and we were caught in the rain while lost in the maze of narrow streets. It was a couple of days of hectic, colorful, noisy chaos. Our amazing riad (typical Moroccan architecture of a building with an inner open-air courtyard) served as our oasis from the busy urban streets. We tasted the traditional black tea infused with loads of mint and sugar. We feasted on the traditional food, tagine, a medley of slow cooked vegetables and meat flavored with cumin either a-top a bed of couscous or served with large round flat bread. We drank big glasses of freshly squeezed juice. We marveled at the colors of all of the goods in the market, the long modest dresses and head wraps the women wore, and the colorfully painted and intricately adorned arches throughout the city. Without ever stepping foot out of the old walled city we were already immersed in a rich culture that offered so many new adventures far from our day-to-day lives in the US and Moldova.

After two full days of completely urban touring we had the great opportunity to see 'the real Morocco' through the eyes of my friend Sasa, a fellow peace corps volunteer, living in a beautiful village hidden among the Atlas mountains. We traveled by bus and later by 'grand taxi' out to her site. The grand taxi wasn't as grand as one might imagine. The taxi, a Mercedes sedan squeezed six passengers and a driver that zoomed through the winding streets and up through the cloud line. My tendency of car sickness was met by the beauty that is dramamine. As we passed through the mountains I got glimpses of the amazing terrain. We even were stopped by a pack of sheep that didn't seem too interested in moving their stance from the center of the street. When we finally drove into her village and stepped out of the taxi my leg head fallen so asleep in the car that I almost fell over. We were in the village less than two hours before we received a phone call from the mayor informing us that we needed to come meet and register our visit with him. It was amazing how quickly word spread of our arrival. We had literally only walked 50 meters down a side street and into Sasa's home. After meeting with the mayors right-hand man we were invited to dinner at his house that evening. Later we hiked around the village, visited with host families and had two more invitations to dinner. It was amazing, we had been in the village less than twenty-four hours and we already had more invitations to dinner than nights we would be staying. The true Moroccan spirit of hospitality was felt strongly during our time in the village. After visiting with host families and locals we took a hike up the peak overlooking the village. We just missed the sunset, but we had enough time to capture the moments before it got too dark. And, as we hiked back down into the village we ate almond blossoms straight off the trees and greeted shepherds as they brought their sheep back down to the valley after a day of grazing on the mountain greenery. That night we had dinner with a prominent family in the village. I even got a lesson on how to make the traditional black tea. I won't share the quantity of sugar that was put in the tea pot ...lets just say I think there was more sugar than water. The food was great and the hospitality was excellent. It was an evening we won't forget.

The following day we visited the famous waterfall in Morocco, Cascade d'Ouzoud. The fall was beautiful and the water mixed with the sunshine created a beautiful rainbow that filled the pool below the fall created a basin full of color. The interesting surprise were the wild monkeys who at first seemed adorable, but after one decided to chase me and I needed to use Sam as a human shield they weren't so charming. The day was awesome and that evening we went to yet another host for another home cooked meal. The food and hospitality again were amazing. Our time in the little village was short and sweet and will be forever remembered as the highlight of our time in Morocco.

The next day was all about taxis and buses and other boring things.

But, the day after was a fun filled day of traveling out to the entrance of the western Sahara desert. Before reaching the desert at sunset we spent the day visiting the really cool Kasbah town of Ouarzazate. A walled-city made of mud bricks. The little city was picturesque and site to many famous movies, including the Gladiator. The day was spent mostly in our tour van, but the landscape was so amazing. The day started in Marrakesh and left the Urban for a more rural but lush terrain. As we continued the green became brown and the hard rocks became wispy sand. It was an amazing transformation from where we started in the morning to where we arrived in the evening. When we finally reached our destination in Zagora we were all pleased to finally be getting out of the car. But, before we got too comfortable we were saddled up and riding away in the sunset on the backs of camels. Camels are pretty awesome, but they are not the most comfortable of animals. After about a half hour the luster of trying something new dissipates and what remains is a sore backside. We spent the night in tents and enjoyed a drumming circle around a fire pit.

The following morning we woke up early and ate a lite breakfast, took pictures atop the baby sand dunes and saddled up on our trusty camels. The ride back out was a little more painful after our first riding experience the night before, but we all made it back to the van in one piece.  The rest of the day was more of the same, landscape this time transforming from reddish brown back to green. That night we found a little restaurant that had one table with a view over the square and enjoyed our final evening together back in Marrakesh where the trip had began.

I hate this part of a trip. The part where you have to say goodbye. That is the hard part about long-distance relationships. We have the most amazing time when we are together, but just as we get into our comfortable routine together it is time to pick-up and say goodbye for another extended period of time. It is such a bittersweet feeling. So many couples don't realize how amazing it is to be able to see each other all the time. That is something I am so looking forward to after I close my Peace Corps service. Traveling is something that both Sam and I are so passionate about. Every trip we take we fall in love all over again. But, after two years of long distance we can both say we are excited to finally get to share the mundane everyday moments that other couples take for granted. So, late that morning I bid him farewell and off he went in his taxi.

Luckily, this wasn't my first time saying goodbye and I didn't want to ruin the rest of my time in Marrakesh. After all, I was there until the next morning and there was still so much to see. A fellow traveler at the hostel had just arrived and so she and I headed out that afternoon to find the Ben Youssef Medersa, a big old building that used to serve as a dormitory for university students. It was a truly remarkable building with ornate wood carvings and archways. Later in the day I went to the main square and wrote a few postcards that I sent back to my family for a couple of important peoples birthdays (*cough* brother and dad *cough*). That night I went to bed early.

It had been a magical week, one that I will never forget.

Peace

A Tale Between Two Cities

Before I begin today's post I must wish my one and only brother a very happy 20th birthday! He has grown into a confident young man and I am so blessed to call him my brother. His hilarious sense of humor is able to diffuse even the most uncomfortable of situations, and for that (as his often awkward older sister) I am very thankful. Though our personalities are miles apart we share a bond that could never be broken. So, today on your first birthday out of the teens I wish only the best for you. Someday you will make some special lady a very blessed partner...and I'm sure I will begrudge that any woman could hold a position more important than my own. But, until that day I will continue to teach you how to treat a lady, so that when that day does come she will know just how blessed she is to have you. Sam, you are a great young man, call dad and thank him. I love you more than words could express. ...Oh, and next year we go out, we go out hard!

The following is a re-count of both the major travel days I had during my trip to Morocco. I will be following up this post with another post fully dedicated to the trip in the next few days, but every trip starts with its on adventure the 'getting there' portion. And, let's just say this trip had quite the 'adventure' in store for me.

The first day of the trip I traveled to Milan, Italy where I stayed for about 36 hours waiting for my onward flight to Marrakech, Morocco. I enjoyed this little break. I love Italy and the architecture and food are certainly more than enough to keep me enchanted for years.

The morning started early at my site in rural Moldova. After a quick shower and a double-check on my bag I headed out to an early morning bus taking me into Chisinau. I stopped in at the office desperate for an ipod charger. To no avail, I headed out to the airport. Sitting and waiting for a plane is much less enjoyable without music. Luckily, I saw two baseball caps walk into the terminal. BINGO. I picked up my bags and quickly made my way up to them without introduction I asked 'So, do either of you have an ipod charger?'. They did, I was in luck. They asked how I knew they were American... Well, when you walk in wearing polo tee-shirts tucked into jeans with your blackberry holstered at your side it is kind of a dead giveaway. Oh, and the baseball caps, nikes and backpacks were just the icing on your very clearly American cake. Sorry. We chatted for the next half hour before it was time to board. The guy asked if I had enough charge, I told him 'yes, until I run into the next American'.

The flight was uneventful. My layover in Rome was also boring, but at least I had music! The second flight was also uneventful (just what one wants in air travel). The contrast between the people on the first and second flight was comical. The first flight was full of typical Moldovans, parents and older people heading off to work in Italy. The second flight was full of business people in sleek business suits and leather briefcases. The women of Milan have this amazing sense of style. I can only aspire to one day look as put together as they do. It is this genetically engrained effortless style that I as a peace corps volunteer do not have.

After this second flight I high-tailed it to the train. Getting to the ticket office two minutes before the train I wanted departed. I ran to the platform and jumped on the train just as the doors shut. Thirty minutes later I was dropped at Cardona station in downtown Milan. I printed walking directions to my hostel before I had left Moldova so I pulled them out of my bag and began the walk. The route was twisty but the roads were well marked and I found the hostel without any problem. Ostello Bello, was a fun and lively hostel. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay. The complimentary welcome drink and free dinner buffet were just the cherry on top. After finishing my drink and enjoying my new found friends I decided it was time to turn in, it was a long day. It felt so good to be back on the road, just me and my backpack. And, who doesn't love a place where the streets smell like pizza and the windows are all treated with flowers and colorful shutters?

The following day the entire public transport system went on strike. This threw a monkey wrench in my plans to get back to the airport, but what's travel without a little bit of annoyance. I was able to resolve the problem and found a private bus system that shuttled to the airport. Problem resolved, like a pro.

The trip was absolutely amazing. My wonderful boyfriend and I had a great week exploring all the beauty that Morocco has to offer. I will share more from our trip later, but now I will share the hellish story of my long journey home to Moldova from Morocco after the trip.

This was easily the worst travel day I have had to date. After a crumby nights sleep in a nine person dorm I headed to the airport at 5am. The ticket and security process were a breeze. I waited in the holding area occasionally checking for the gate announcement. Five minutes before we were supposed to depart a announcement came over the intercom informing us our flight was delayed and that we would get an update in thirty minutes. All the flights began to get delayed. We were at a stand still. Sitting and staring at a departures board that deson't chang but keeps adding flights is by far worse than waiting for a pot of water to boil. I was sitting among other tourists mostly from Europe. Although the two groups of Americans I spotted found a way to complain louder and longer than anyone else. Finally, five hours later we were able to board and I knew I had missed my second flgiht. Such a helpless feeling. I vowed to try and stay positive but it was getting harder and harder... especially since I was taking a budget airline that is one small jump from charging for air breathed during the flight so a meal or even a complimentary cup of water was out of the question. A three plus hour flight later and we arrived in Milan Malpensa airport.

I switched terminals and the glimmer of hope that my 2pm flight back to Moldova was delayed was dashed when all departing flights had been on time. I went to information asking what I could do, they directed me to the ticket counter. I asked if there was anything I could do, any stand-by spots, any flight credit, really anything avialable to me. Of course luck was not on my side. Zero flights to Chisinau that day. Ok, so the following day? There was a ticket for the following morning. Oh, excellent, I'll take it. Any discounts? Of course not. Do they accept cards? Of course not. Oh, and miss, the flight is actually at Bergamo, a different airport, about 75 kilometers outside of Milan in the opposite direction. Of course it is. But, not to worry you have all night to get there. So, is there a bus I can take to get there? Sure, you can get one at the central station in Milan after taking a €10 bus to get there. There are plenty of hotels around the station. No, I mean is there a direct bus from this airport to that airport? Uh, maybe you will have to go down stairs to check.

So, a few hundred dollars later I had a new ticket to an airport two hours away for an in-direct flight the following morning. I headed downstairs to find the shuttle. I found a kiosk and asked if they could help me. The two guys working the desk were unhelpful, but worse was the man standing next to the desk. He told me 'Oh, its off exit 4'. 'No, I need to find a shuttle.' 'No, you have to go by car. Off exit 4.' 'No, I need a shuttle, you aren't being helpful.' 'I can take you. We can stay at a hotel near exit 4.' Well, that was the tipping point. I told him off and high tailed it to the bathroom where I could cry and pull myself together.

In the stall I gave myself a pep talk. 'You are an adult. You just need to figure this out. No one is going to help you, you have to help yourself.' Gone are the days of dad figuring it out. But, a saying he used a lot was resonating in my mind 'sometimes life sucks, get over it'. At that moment I remembered it was Easter. Another wave a self pity hit. This was by far the worst. Easter. ever. I finally resolved to get myself out of this stupid bathroom stall. The following was my pep-talk.

'Ok, that's enough crying. You are fine. Yes, this sucks, but you are perfectly capable of taking care of this. Stop crying, you look ridiculous. Now, you will go outside and find this stupid shuttle. You will buy a ticket. You will find out when the next bus leaves. Then you will go and you will buy yourself a sundae at McDonalds and you will stop acting like a child.' ...and that is exactly what I did.

I really hate eating in restaurants alone, but I felt somewhat accomplished this time. I sat in that both with my big backpack, a new plane ticket, a shuttle bus ticket, and a hot fudge sundae. I realize a real adult probably wouldn't need to treat themselves to a sundae for doing a good job, but baby steps here people. 

I later boarded the shuttle bus and found that there was free wifi aboard. After using my free thirty minutes frantically explaining the situation to my dad via facebook chat, I simply sat on the bus relieved that I was hopefully heading home. I realized the woman sitting behind me was speaking Romanian. When she finished her call I asked her where she was from, Ukraine. And, as luck would have it she was on the exact same flight as I was. Looks like I found myself a surrogate host mom for the night. We found a bench and hunkered down for a long sleepless night. After that long and dreadful day I could finally say I found my silver lining in this sweet woman from Ukraine.

I made it home to Moldova the next afternoon. I can honestly say I had never been so happy to be in Moldova. I finally felt home.

Peace

Romania

Last week I went on a short adventure with a couple of my favorite volunteers (Chris and Jen) to the little city of Brasov in Romania. Luckily for us the drive over wasn't complicated with snow. But, it was nine and a half hours so I guess it's hard to say that it was easy. We arrived in the little city late at night and caught a cab to our hostel. The hostel was tucked away down a little ally but didn't have any trouble finding it. That evening we were tired and pleased to find a delicious restaurant to enjoy our first night.

The next morning we woke up and Jen and I set off to explore the town, while Chris took to the slopes. Brasov has a beautiful old town center. The streets are all cobblestone and the buildings were colorful with just enough character (my fav!). Jen and I had a beautiful day of exploring down little streets. Seeing the black church, the town square and taking pictures in the smallest street in Europe (Strada Sforii). We took our time observing the cultural differences and similarities between our home in Moldova, and both decided it was probably for the better that this beautiful little city wasn't in Moldova, or we would find ourselves making many weekend visits. We sat in a cafe and enjoyed a coffee, we strolled through the streets, and took a ride up the main hill in Brasov boosting the famous 'BRASOV' sign, just like the one in Hollywood... maybe not just like it but we will give them points for effort. We enjoyed hot spiced wine at the top, taking the view of the old city walls below. We ended the day by hiking up to the Brasov Fortress.

That evening we went out on the town. It's always exciting going out in a new city, but fun always ensues when I am with these two. We found ourselves in a funky 1930s themed restaurant that had great live music. Later, at an Irish pub we made friends with some very lively boys from Australia and England. Chris' leftovers may have been eaten by our new friends, and they may have ended up passed out at the bar but, we did make some lasting and laugh-filled memories. In all we had a great night.

The following morning we rose early to go on a castle tour. Brasov is in the Transylvania region of Romania and no trip is complete without a visit to these beautiful landmarks. In the morning we visited Peles Castle, near the city of Sinaia, the Castle was built for King Carol I of Romania. We took a tour of the inside and I can say that guy knew who to hire. It was a truly beautiful place both inside and out. Our second stop brought us to Bran Castle, the infamous 'Dracula's Castle'. We enjoyed a leisurely stroll around the little village before heading to our third and final stop, Rasnov Fortress. We hiked up to the Fortress and explored the outer-wall and the little buildings and winding streets within the fortress. By the end of the day trip the snow began to fall heavily, dusting everything with a fresh layer of powder and adding a unique quality to the mountainous landscape. That evening found us following a similar route as the night before. Meeting new people and making more fun memories from our short little trip. 

The next  morning we walked around the town square and packed-up. We then boarded our bus for the long journey home. It was short and sweet, but just what one needs in the dead of winter in Eastern Europe, a little pick-me-up as we wait for Spring.

Happy last day of February to you!