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