The Smells Of Moldova

One thing I remember getting used to last year was the different smells. And to be quite honest, I’m still not completely used to a lot of them. The most common smell is the smell of smoke. Usually, it’s the smell of trash burning since there isn’t always a trash collector. And in the autumn, the air seems to always be filled with the smell of burning leaves.

I’ve mentioned the smell of viceos before, which is like the smell from a million porta potties crammed into one outhouse. I don’t think this is too difficult to understand.

And then there is the body odor. Moldovans don’t tend to shower everyday because many can’t. For the families that have water that comes into the house, the pipes often freeze in the winter, so they go months without running water. Many must get their water from the wells, and therefore take bucket baths. And in the summer, with all the manual labor, there is a lot of smelliness. Getting used to the smell of body odor is very difficult and something I’m still not completely used to.

Nobody Nose The Troubles I've Seen

Imagine this…you are walking through a garden filled with flowers. There is that clean and fresh scent in the air, evidence of a summer rain that had only happen a couple hours ago. The flowers seem to spray a burst of sweet floral mist as you walk past each kind, and you can’t help but smile at nature’s miracles. There is a small, brick building at the end of the garden. You open the door and a gust of warm summer air hits you.

You breathe in the air and your nose is suddenly filled with the foulest scent you can possibly imagine. You know that if you turn and leave, you won’t have to continue to experience this odor, but there is nowhere else civilized to do your business, so you proceed on into the building. As you shut the door, you take yourself to your happy place to escape the God-forsaken stench that seemed to grow worse at the mere action of closing the door.

As you sit there with your nose in your shirt to dull the smell, you wonder if you would be able to hold your breath during your remaining time in there, knowing full-well it would result in you fainting, making matters worse. When it is time to leave, you walk away from the viceo so quickly that you don’t even have a chance to smell the flowers of the garden you have to walk back through that you were so keen on noticing only moments before.

Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic. There are a lot of viceos that are way worse than my family’s; in fact, there are viceos that are just holes in the ground (and I know that the title is inaccurate seeing as many others have to use viceos, but I thought it was clever). But there have been times when the smell in the viceo was so awful, I lost my ability to think reasonably and imagined my few minutes in there as such. On the really hot days, the smell is obviously worse. And on the days when it’s cooler from a rainstorm, the floral scent is stronger, making the contrasting scent of the viceo seems worst. One day, it’s bound to be less noticeable, right?

The Unmentionables

Okay, I’m going to lay it out for you…the bathroom situation. I’ll try to keep it pleasant (as it can possibly be). Before I left for Moldova, I was warned that I was more likely to have internet than plumbing, which is mostly true. It’s a good thing I was warned, because I think it prepared me for my situation.

The good news: my house has an indoor shower, a bathroom sink, and a kitchen sink. The indoor shower was the best discovery. I can pretty much shower every day, if I chose to, which I don’t. I have been told that our living situations now are a lot nicer than where we will end up eventually, so I’m trying to prepare myself (get my body use to less showers). Plus my family does not shower everyday, and I am trying to integrate. So right now, I just shower every other day. I’ve heard stories from current volunteers of not being about to shower for 12 days. I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet!

The reason I was grateful for the warning: At my house, I have a viceo (outhouse). Basically, my bathroom is a permanent porta potty located about 100 feet from the house. There is a giant hole in the ground, and a concrete toilet built around it, with four brick walls with a door and a roof. I am luck to have electricity run out there, so I can see at night (some don’t have light and need a flashlight or headlight to see when they go at night).

With the electricity out there, I thought I might have one of the better bathroom situations compared to the other PCTs. But as it turns out, I am one of few with outdoor toilets; most have indoors. Oh well, it will make it easier for me to get use to whatever form of toilet I have in 3 months. Some places only have a hole in the ground. I guess I’ll get a workout for my legs.

Something new, the TP does not go in the toilet. There is a separate bucket or trashcan for used TP. This is true for all bathroom, especially indoors toilets because the plumbing system can’t break down the TP. It was weird at first, but you do it everywhere, so it does not take long to get used to.

One thing I’m not sure I’ll get used to is the smell. I won’t describe that part…I think you can guess. Just think porta potty times 100. And home to many flies. I tried to count them once, but there were too many. Even though I don’t think I’ll get used to it, the smell is a little dulled now. I don’t have to hold my breath the whole time I’m in there now. However, I’m not looking forward to being sick (even more so than normal)!

Side Note: This morning, I noticed Chupa (the family dog) munching away on something. Check out the picture and guess…

Chicken feet!