Manufactured Clouds

Moldova produces some of the greatest clouds I have ever seen.


I speculate that Moldova unofficially imports water vapor and exports magnificent, billowing clouds. Unfortunately, border controls on this particular export are extremely lax, and much tariff revenue is lost. Slovakia, Hungary, and the Ukraine receive black-market Moldovan cloud products at rock-bottom prices, and the Moldovan cloud factories bear the cost. Perhaps suggestive of mass corruption in international politics, the UN, EU, NATO, and other regulatory bodies have failed to take action against these thefts. But not all is lost; a handful of connoisseurs visit the country annually to reconfirm Moldova's place among the top cloud-producing nations in the Modern Era.

These clouds are exported in magnificent shape, but living in the factory means that I see my fair share of what can only be called "throw-aways" and "works in progress." I have returned home completely drenched (and probably cleaner than when I had departed in the morning) as a direct result of industrial accidents in the factory, as well. When the rain falls on Moldova, it doesn't mess around. However, I love the rain here, and for the same reason I love the rain in the Pacific Northwest: it cleans everything out and makes the world around me vibrant with life. As I walk (read: run) to school each morning, I notice the grapes weighing heavier on their vines, and the raspberries flashing bold new shades of red. These are the byproducts of Moldova's great cloud production, and I am the grateful recipient of the excellent meals and impromptu snack therefrom.

The rain here is something of a mystery to me, though. It rains as though mountains were pinning the clouds against the sky, which is the situation with which I am most intimately familiar. And yet, the closest mountains are the Carpathians in Romania, which can hardly be held responsible for the air pressure in Moldova. Perhaps the rain is simply a result of Moldova's close proximity to its source of water vapor, the Black Sea. Perhaps the amount of moisture coming off of the sea is simply too great for continental atmosphere to handle, and the massive black leviathans have little choice but to shed lakes and rivers of rain onto Moldova, in the form of stunning lightning shows and bombastic symphonies of thunder and howling dogs.

I continue my study of Moldova cloud production, and will report my conclusions in next month's issue of Science.

Life is good

Moldova is a wonderful country. I had little involvement in the decision to come here for Peace Corps, as opposed to some other part of the world, but I sincerely appreciate the opportunity I have been given. I am prohibited from publishing my exact location, explicitly or implicitly, which is a shame, because I would love to share with you all the minute details of my current situation. Perhaps in ten weeks I can tell you, but for now, let me just say this...

There is life everywhere. I have only been in this country for a short while, but I feel energized and enriched by the amount of vibrant vivicy that seems to leap out of every nook and cranny of this place. My daily wanderings take me through docile neighborhoods, across fields of wine-grapes, through placid cemetaries that might easily be parks, past impressive basiricas (churches), and among chirping and cooing animals of every variety. Indeed, this is to say that I pass through the life of Moldova in the Spring.

I have experienced the brilliant sunshine of this place, as well as the torrential downpour. And all of this is paralleled by the welcome I have received from my host family and the people of my town. Of course, most are weary of me, as a stranger and as an American. Moldova was once a part of the Soviet Union, and I have been told that many Moldovans may initially suspect Peace Corps volunteers as spies. Usually a jovial smile and a "buna ziua!" to match bring a smile to fellow pedestrians' faces, and I appreciate the amusement in their eyes. I think I know what I just said... I know I don't know what they just said...

Language classes progress rapidly, and I am daily becoming more comfortable with my Romanian. I must acquire this language rapidly if I am to learn Russian, like the two of my colleagues already being so instructed. My goal is to be fluent in Romanian and proficient in Russian before my departure, and I know this will be difficult.

First things first: get over the jet-lag and culture shock. Check, and check. Well, culture shock is a work in progress, but I feel comfortable with most of my daily lifestyle, thus far. I am a bit disappointed at the lack of interconnectivity with the folks back home, but such is life. We are all busy living. It is a strange feeling, to be half a world away from both the people you love and the people you greet each day. I am sure that, once I am settled, I will have more time and energy to commit to my family and friends back home, but for now I shall rest in my homesickness. I hope you are all doing well.

Bine, until next time...

La revedere!

Adjustments

It is my firm belief that airplanes move much faster than humans were ever meant to travel. I once heard a story about an explorer in Africa who was delayed because his local guides and porters refused to go any farther, as they had traveled so far in so little time that their souls had fallen behind and needed time to catch up. In this story, these humans only walked; I have taken a plane at over 500 miles per hour. Jet-lag is the body waiting for the soul to catch up.

I have been in Moldova for about a week, now, and perhaps my soul will catch up, soon. My internet connectivity is excellent, and I am limited in its use only by my lack of a desire to use it. The family with which I stay is absolutely wonderful, and I feel lucky to have been matched with such great people. Moldova is a country of great beauty and jovial people. Each day I am here is another excellent day, even if my stomach and aching head have yet to completely adjust.

The Moldovan language has been a pleasure to learn, thus far. Although my lingual skills are yet only rudimentary, the process of exploring and grasping this new language is among my favorite experiences in Moldova. My tongue would complain of certain acrobatic challenges, but my mind is utterly enthralled. Perhaps when next I speak with my friends and family, I will be unable to revert from the accent I now gladly possess. One can only hope...

I will soon post pictures of my arrival and my initial forays, so keep an eye out for updates. Ask questions, or send me an email. I would love to hear from everybody.

The First Departure

Perhaps it is a tired cop-out to quote Monty Python. Nonetheless, it seems quite possible that Judith of Life of Brian fame said it best in her dramatic coup de grace: It's happening, Stan! Something is actually happening!! (I like to think that multiple exclamation marks were used uncompromisingly in all such absurd screenplays.)

It was all just a bunch of paper work and talk until this morning, when I picked up my bags and kindly boarded an airplane bound for Philadelphia, PA. I spend a few more days here before hopping the not-so-proverbial pond for Frankfurt and, ultimately, Chisinau, Moldova. I've said my good-byes, despite their myriad shortcomings (on my own end, I must say). I felt the strain of too much weight as my luggage cut unyieldingly into my shoulders and tortured my arms. Somehow, I inadvertently managed to procure an upgrade to First-Class on US Airways -- hopefully gratuit, though only time will tell. I even successfully lost and found an important document on the way to my hotel, where I now rest in uncharacteristic comfort, thinking little more than: Oh crap! What am I getting in to?

As the great, fictional Max Cohen frequently said: 8:45, restate my assumptions. Apparently, I have joined the Peace Corps, and I am now on my way to the Republic of Moldova. This is a small country, approximately the geographic size of the state of Maryland, with a total population around 4.4 million, the vast majority of which reside in a handful of cities. The capital, Chisinau (Key-sh-new), is by far the largest of these cities, at a whopping 600,000 residents. The country is land-locked (thanks to the Ukraine), has an elevation range of 2-400 meters (about 3000 meters short of the elevation range with which I am familiar), is former soviet-bloc, and is relatively rural (think "quiet" and "perfect star-gazing"). The economy is based primarily on agriculture and has never industrialized, due to the complete lack of mineral resources or a port. As far as I am concerned, the most important result of this non-industrialization is the sustenance of Moldova's primary export: wine.

I'll be teaching English to high-school kids, most likely in a village smaller than I can honestly comprehend, right now. I have never taught, to date, but I look forward to the opportunity. Honestly, I can't begin to comprehend the experience. Any of it. But let me tell you: I'm looking forward to all of it.

These next few days are the last I'll see of my androgynous homeland ("motherland" or "fatherland"? Neither seems to work, really) for over two years. Instead, I look forward to new languages, new passions, and new memories. I'll try to put a little of each of these into this blog, and I hope to hear from those of you who read it.