Engagement and the next steps

As the end of March approaches, I smile at the events of the past several weeks, at the long-awaited coming of Spring, and at the next couple years of foreseeable future before me. I have been fighting off a mild respiratory infection for the past couple weeks, thanks to the final throes of Winter in Moldova, and I have been thankful for the extra time (between coughing fits and long naps) to appreciate where I am in life, and to come to grips with the mountains of work that now lie before me.

On February 13, shortly after my last post to this blog, I officially proposed to Tatiana through a fairly-elaborate, romantic Valentine's weekend surprise. Following her affirmative response, we have been busy preparing for the wedding and figuring out the complex process of marriage and visa paperwork. As all aspects of bureaucracy, the visa process is mundane, so I will omit the details for now. The wedding preparations, on the other hand, are quite exciting.

Tatiana and I have decided on July 24-25 of this year for our wedding date. The event is two-fold: first the religious ceremony, which will be at a beautiful church in Chisinau, and then a day to rest and prepare for the crazy traditional Moldovan nunta (reception), also in Chisinau. We have already booked most of the venues and players, including the church, priest, reception hall, and musicians. Items still on our check list include the photographer and formal invitations. Initially, we wanted to keep the guest list fairly small, but it looks like the event will probably be around 120 people, which is still only "medium-sized" for a Moldovan wedding. More details to come, on that.

Last week, I also received confirmation on my admission to graduate school. I will begin my studies at Bentley University at the very end of August, this year. Bentley is in the Boston area, which I have heard is a great area. My course of study will be a two-year program combining a MBA and a MS in something called Human Factors in Interface Design (HFID). It's hard to briefly explain what HFID means, but it has to do with user experience, usability, and product design. I expect the program to be very intense and fast-paced. My only concerns, right now, have to do with the short time-frame in which Tatiana and I will be arriving and settling down in a country that neither of us have been to for a couple years, minimum, in a city that neither of us are at all familiar with. It looks like I will have a lot of support from the Bentley staff, though, so I'm sure there is nothing to worry about.

I am down to the final stretch of my Peace Corps service; I can count the months remaining on one hand. Time really has flown in this second year in Moldova. As I reflect back on it, I am very happy for all my experiences here. I wish I had been able to do more, and I wish I had been in closer contact with my good friends back home, but I've had a great time.

Tatiana and I plan to make a stop in Portland for about a week or two before we head out to Boston. I look forward to seeing as many of my friends and family as possible in that time, so if that's you, keep me in mind. We'll likely have some sort of Portland reception to which you will all be invited.

One last thing: I've started putting all of my irreplaceable photos online, starting with the oldest ones and working my way up to the present. I'm up to the end of 2007, so far. Anybody who's interested can take a look: Jeff's Photos.

On height and width

Tall, thin, blue eyes, blond hair, primarily English heritage (meaning "white, for the most part"), casual. These are the basics of my physical appearances, and thus the most common bases of how others identify me. In Moldova, the colors of my eyes, hair, and skin don't give people much to think about as they shamelessly stare at me while I walk by. And, to my reasoning and observation (yah, I'm covering a priori and a posteriori here), neither should my height and width -- or, rather, the plenitude (not overabundance) of the one, and the deficiencies of the other. There are plenty of men and women all over this country who are both taller and thinner than myself. Whether those tall, thin Moldovans receive the same 'care' and 'attention' as I, a foreigner, I cannot say.

Let me preface by noting: one of the most common questions any young person in Moldova (whether a citizen or a foreigner) is asked is, "are you married?" If your answer to this questions should, unfortunately, be "no," then the next question is usually something like "why not?" or "let me introduce you to my [son/daughter/niece/nephew/sister/brother]." In some parts of the world, the frequency of such interrogation would be border-line harassment, but I have been assured by many that the incessant inquiry into my marital status is intended entirely for my own benefit, and I do not doubt it. I'm glad to know that so many people (who I've usually only just met) have such an interest in my well-being.

Moving on...

I am the humble inhabitant of a body that has an unchecked and out-of-control metabolism, which burns through anything I ingest as fast as it can, and then waits hungrily for the next meal. You may think this is a blessing or a curse, but for me it is just a fact of life. I've gone seven years without gaining (and keeping) a single pound. After about the fifth, I stopped caring. But the rest of the world didn't. If the most common question I am asked by Moldovans I have just met is, "are you married?," the most common question asked by Moldovans who know me is, without a doubt, "why have you lost weight? Have you been eating?"

Yes. In fact, I eat about as much as I can, but after seven years of trying to gain weight and failing, believe me: I've forfeited the struggle, and now wait for my metabolism to find a more profound preoccupation in life than burning through everything I throw at it. For now, I'm pretty content with my weight. Now I just need to learn how to say that in conversational Romanian.

My height not only compounds the 'problem' of my weight. Measuring in at a few fingers over six feet, I am taller than most of the people in the world, but by no means am I in the top fifth percentile. Those three fingers (meaning about an inch and change, for those of you who don't have normal-sized fingers) give me a real edge in life, and especially in Moldova. I catch the edges of door frames, low-hanging ceilings, and tree branches hanging over pathways. Usually I catch these with the sensitive spot right on the top of the head, but sometimes I also catch them with the forehead or even the brow. It stings for about an hour, and sometimes it leaves traces of blood or even scars.

...Oh, did you think I meant 'edge' like 'advantage'? No, no. I don't even like basketball. And I wouldn't mind having to climb on a chair to access tall cupboards, if it meant fewer headaches.

Solutions? I've taken to slouching and puffing out my cheeks when I leave the house. If I don't gain some weight by Spring, when my many layers of warm cloths will start to melt away, I may have to find additional solutions. If not, I may face enough (albeit well-intentioned) interrogation about my weight to finally break me down and give me body image problems. Potatoes soaked in butter and then fried with all manner of tasty meat? Bring it on!