POTD 34: Moldovan Winter

I can’t reflect on my time here in Moldova without thinking about the winter. Black ice everywhere, snow up to your knees, tucking towels and rags in the cracks of doors and window to keep the cold out, the water tower freezing. I have never experienced winter like I have here. And it wouldn’t be so bad if houses and building were warmer. It’s just a fact; you will be cold all the time during a Moldovan winter.

Beware of the Kitchen

Well, the snow has returned and with a vengeance. It was snowing quite hard on my walk to school; my face was stinging as the snow was blasting into my face. My whole walk to school, the snow was blowing into me. Good news is that my walk home was much more pleasant since the snow was hitting my back.

After I got home from school and warmed up a bit by the heater, I head downstairs to prepare some lunch. And Roman was in the kitchen, drinking glasses of wine to stay warm. Of course, he insists I join him. If Roman is in the kitchen (or comes to the kitchen when I’m there), he wants to drink. There’s no legit excuse for me to not drink. Once I’m home, he thinks I’m done with the day. Therefore, getting drunk at 2 o’clock is perfectly acceptable. This used to bother me a lot, but I’ve accepted that this is life here.

Today’s conversation was fun. He kept telling me my boobs are a nice size. FYI, you do not need to be able to translate Russian to understand when someone is talking about your boobs. He told me that small boobs weren’t good, and big boobs were good.

I don’t know which is worse: that he finds his behavior appropriate or that it doesn’t bother me any more. I’m going to need some serious help with integration when I return to America.

Mission Winter

Well, preparation for the cold weather has really begun. My host mom has spent all weekend and the last couple days bringing the outside plants inside. And if I couldn’t tell from the empty gardens or the lack of potted flowers on the porch, I can’t help but notice every time I run into a potted-tree on my walk to the bathroom.

In addition to walking into a tree on my way to the bathroom now, it is a dreadfully cold walk. I have the luxury of an indoor bathroom, but my host family hasn’t turned on the heat yet. They did provide me with an electric heater I can plug into my room, which has been wonderful. But the rest of the upstairs is as cold as outside. Showers are quite a pain. If the bathroom starts to smell horrific, it will be as if I’m living like a real PC volunteer.

The school of course, has not turned the heat on yet either. So everyone stays in their coats all day during lessons. And the teachers have started to ask the students to bring in packaging tape and cotton, and I’m sure I’ll see them filling all the cracks in the windows over the next couple days.

My favorite thing is coming home to all the chickens loose in the yard. My understanding is they are eating all the remaining vegetables/plants/seeds in the garden before my host dad clears everything out. The best is when the kitten starts chasing them. Well, she tries to; the chickens don’t seem to notice her or care. But she’s so cute as she tries to play with them.

I must say it is kind of nice being here for two years because I get a chance to see things once more. I can finally anticipate some things based on my experience last year. I kind of like saying, “Oh yeah, I remember that last year.” Makes me feel worldly.

Bring It On, Winter!

Well, I guess fall is finally here. And it feels like it came over night. Until today, I had been walking to school with no need for a coat or sweater, and I have been leaving my bedroom window open all day and night. But for the first time this season, it was too cold to leave my window open, even during the day. And when I left for school, I had to pull out my coat and scarf for my walk to school.

The cold air outside is nothing compared to the coldness of my school. Since it’s a large concrete building, the cold nights cause the school to get pretty cold, and the school remains very chilly during the day. Last year, they didn’t turn on the heat until after fall break, which was the first week in November, and we had our lessons in our coats and gloves. It was so hard to keep the students’ attention when we all were so cold. The administration made the lessons shorter because it was too cold to stay for the regular length of the day.

With this cold, I’m bracing myself for winter and all it brings. I’m starting to remember last winter with it getting dark by 4pm and the only form of vegetables to eat are pickled. Yikes. But it’s my last winter, and I plan to finish my service strong. So bring it on, winter!

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Wow, over the last month, it has been very cold. Now I understand what all the fuss was about. For a while, I thought that maybe I was super tough or maybe others were more sensitive to the cold. But that’s a big, fat no. I was wrong; I just hadn’t felt the real cold yet. The last two weeks we have gotten got a lot of snow and a lot of wind. In fact, several events for Peace Corps were canceled because of the weather.

Right after that first snow, there was about a week or two of extreme wind. Wind is the worst. It is so have to deal with because no matter how many layers I was wearing, the wind could pass through them. It was torturous walking to and from school. Many errands didn’t happen because I didn’t want to go outside unless it was absolutely necessary.

After those weeks, the snow really came. We probably had at least a foot of snow. It wasn’t as cold as the windy weeks, but I had a foot of snow to walk through because there aren’t plows. Some people shoveled right in front of their gate, but that didn’t make a difference in my walk.

I think part of the difficulty with dealing with the cold is that it is always cold. I have to be outside a lot more because the only way for me to travel is by foot. And the buildings aren’t very warm either. When I sit still for some time working, I get very cold after about a half hour. Layered-clothes are a necessity. Showers are even less fun. The window in the bathroom has a layer of ice around it. And the backdoor has some ice on it in the mornings. Have I mentioned how cold it is lately?

Our Backdoor In The Mornings With Ice

The Water Tower

A Snow-Covered Cruileni

I woke up this morning to a beautiful white Criuleni. There has been a little snow here and there the last month, but nothing that was really sticking. This week though, the ground was frozen, and I had hoped that this meant snow would stick, which it did. It’s the perfect kind of snow, the kind that crunches underneath my feet. There is enough that it covers everything, but the trees aren’t hanging low because of how heavy it is.

The atmosphere seemed to change overnight. Criuleni was so happy today. December was a lot of rain and cold, so it was kind of dreary. But the snow brought lots of smiles and happiness. On my walk to school this morning, I saw lots of children playing together as they walked to school. As I passed the bus station, I heard a man singing loud for all to hear. During school, every boy spent every minute of every break outside playing in the snow. And on my way home, the students all ran and slid to see how far they could slide across the packed snow. I even saw an adult man trying to slide across the snow.

This snow was a perfect pick-me-up for all of Cruileni.

Holiday Spirit

So the holiday season is starting to make me miss home. When Thanksgiving rolled around, no one celebrates it here, so there wasn’t a constant reminder that I’m not home for Thanksgiving. So Thanksgiving came and went without causing me too much homesickness. 

But Christmas is a different story. Christmas here is celebrated on Old Christmas, January 7. And so far, it’s not nearly as commercial as it is in USA. I only started seeing Christmas decorations for sell about two weeks ago, and I only started seeing decorations put up last weekend. The nice thing about this is that I wasn’t being reminded that it’s Christmas time since October. But now that the decorations are starting to be displayed, it does make me miss home. However, Moldova once again aims to make me happy. Wednesday was Roman’s 60th birthday, so we had a celebration. We had dinner at the only restaurant in my village with lots of my host family’s friends. We ate, we drank, we talk, we danced. It was a lot of fun. Plus, I got a picture of my host parents. It’s not the picture I was hoping for, but I think it captures them perfectly: Roman causing trouble and Parascovia scolding him. I love this picture of them.

My host family: sitting are my host mom, Parascovia, and my host dad, Roman.  My host brother standing; he lives in Spain and he was visiting for Roman's birthday.

Additionally, there was a school Christmas concert this week. Last weekend, some eighth grade girls asked me to sing with them in school concert. I said that I would, and we sang “Jingle Bell Rock” together on Thursday. The girls were very impressed that I had the words memorized by our second rehearsal, but I reminded them that I have been singing along with this song since I was a child. 

The school concert was various musical performances by the students. Many singers, some dancing, and a pair of students played instruments. Now, I have song in choirs and preformed many times, but I have never felt like a rock star until this performance. When we were introduced, and the MCs mentioned that I would be singing with the students, the school cheered very loudly. Many students pulled out their cameras to record the performance, and the entire audience was clapping the whole time. I don’t know if our performance deserved this praise, but it sure felt nice.

Me with my partner teacher, Svetlana, and the four girls who sang "Jingle Bell Rock" with me. Notice the silly American wearing her coat because she can't handle the Moldovan winter.

And then tonight, my host mom prepared a mini Christmas Eve celebration. She put together a dinner, and it was nice to sit together in honor of Christmas. The cool thing, too, was that the dinner kind of reminded me of traditional Christmas Eve dinner with my family. Christmas this year is not the same by any means, but different is not all bad. I miss my family, friends, and home, but I’m looking forward to learning about Christmas celebration here in Moldova.

My (Extra)Ordinary Day

My alarm goes off at 7:00. I debate pushing the snooze, but I remember I have already pushed it twice so I've slept 20 minutes more than I meant to, and I reluctantly get up. I go to the bathroom, wash my face, and brush my teeth without questioning using the water from the facet. I get dressed and pack my bag. I remember I'm in Moldova, so I shine my shoes, put on my leg warmers, and add an extra layer of clothes before walking out the door.

I walk out of my sleeping house onto a vacant street. It's one of those days where I want to stay snuggled up in bed with my cup of tea and watch old musicals. The sun has been totally blotted out by the abundance of clouds that have completely taken over the sky. The dark clouds seem to be threatening a rain that will not actually come. A flock of crows swarms across the grey sky, and I feel as if I am in a Hitchcock movie.

I make my way to the main street and finally see some sign of life. Men and women, bundled up in puffy coats, scarves, and caps without gloves, are walking in every direction getting ready for the working day. The old men stand together in groups of three or four, and look as if they don't have a care in the world as they watch the world pass them by. The young men huddle together, each with a cigarette in his hand while they listen to music blasting from one of their cell phones. The young women walk independently in every direction with great speed considering the fact they are wearing skin-tight jeans, four-inch heels, and carrying an oversized yet fashionable purse. The babas hobble by in oversized coats with a bright, colorful scarf tied around their heads. They carry the black lei bags full of their day's necessities. Their lifetime of hard work has made these women appear old and frail. But I know very well that not only do these women have great strength, but also they could easily drink me under a table without even trying.

A rutieră stops at the corner and several of my students step off. They flock together as if they were one unit as they hurry off in the direction of the school. A couple of the girls notice me and blush as they greet me with a shy "hello".

As I walk into the school, two lyceum students open the door and greet me with a mumbled "bună dimineața". On my way to the stairs, I pass a mirror hanging on the hall, and I can't help but notice my checks are a rosy pink from the cold, crisp, autumn air. I sigh at the thought that this is only autumn air; I have yet to experience the freezing air of a Moldovan winter morning.

I pass the school's maintenance man on my way upstairs to my first class. Without a change in facial expression, he taps his hat in recognition of me as I say a quiet “bună” before we continue our separate ways. Several students greet me with a quick "hello" as I walk down the hall to my class.

I get to my 10th form classroom, and I begin to prepare for the first lesson. My partner teacher for this lesson informs me that one of the other English teachers is sick today. Since the two classes combined won't fit in one classroom, she is going to work with the other class while I stay with our students. Great, I didn't prepare anything for the grammar part of this lesson because she was going to do that. My preparations for class quickly change to making a plan for teaching the grammar of this lesson.

The bells rings, and the students stand up. I greet the students before allowing them to sit. I ask the students how they are and what they did this weekend. Silence. I remind the students to use simple past tense. Silence. I tell them that I went for a walk this weekend, and I ask if anyone else went for a walk. Silence. The only reaction I get is the students slouching deeper and deeper in their seats trying to avoid eye contact with me while I try to help them form sentences. A boy comes into the classroom late, and the students all the sudden seem alive. He greets me and proceeds his way around the classroom making sure to shake the hand of every male there, no matter how difficult it is to get to him. Sometimes, the little things are the hardest things to work with.

I make it through the lesson and continue my day. I plan with another one of my teachers and introduce several ideas to try in our classroom. She only likes one idea if we change it slightly. Okay, I can compromise if it means I am introducing one new teaching method to the classroom. It’s all about taking baby steps. We finish planning before the bells rings and I leave for my next lesson.

I teach 8th form with yet another partner teacher, and we introduce a new grading rubric that requires more responsibility from the students. We get several groans, but the students seem to understand that they need to complete their homework from now on. I’m slightly upset that we are only now holding the students accountable for completing their homework. But I guess that’s why I’m here for two years; change takes time. And it requires a lot of patience from me.

I survive the rest of the day, despite the fact I feel like a human popsicle. These large concrete buildings can be really cold. As usual, everyone was wearing his or her coat and scarf all day, including me. It makes me wonder if I could stop worrying about dressing so nicely since I just wear my coat all day. But I conclude that this is Moldova; I must dress frumosly.

I start to walk home, and I get a text message. With much anticipation, I check to see who loves me so much that they decided to send me a text. My excitement is quickly replaced with disappointment as I read my message from Orange reminding me that I get 100% bonus calls on weekends if I recharge my account with 70 lei or more before December 20.

I come home to fresh pot of borș, which is large enough to last for my next three or four lunches. I put my bag away and sit down to lunch. My host dad walks back and forth between the kitchen and the backyard working on some project. Every time he passes, he is mumbling something in Russian.

I finish my lunch and head upstairs to start working. I sit down on my bed and spread out all my plans and textbooks. I open my laptop to pull up my lesson plans for tomorrow. I reread through my plans and begin making all the necessary material.

I work for about an hour, and then I notice that it is 3:30 and realize that if I want to go for a walk, I should leave now, before it gets dark. I head downstairs, all bundled up for my walk. I pass my host mom, and she asks me if I’m going for a walk. I tell her I am, and she laughs before telling me goodbye. I don’t know what is funny, and I head out the door without knowing.

I begin walking through my village, taking time to people watch. I really love walking through my village. I get to just observe Moldova. And I am able to remember why I’m here. Just as I begin to get lost in my thoughts, a man stops to talk to me. He speaks to me very quickly, and I can’t really understand. I did hear the words “work” and “police”, so I conclude that he works at the police station. I smile and try to converse before he continues on his way. I keep walking lost in thought most of the time, being distracted only every once in a while by scary dogs or the smell of burning trash.

I get home and sit down to work again. After 15 minutes, I remember that I have get ready to meet with some of my 10th form students I’m tutoring. I grab my tutoring material and leave for their house. The girls are waiting for me when I reach their house. We sit down and read “A Christmas Carol” together. I notice how much more quickly the girls are able to read through the book and how well the girls are understanding the text. It’s nice to see improvement in my students. I don’t always get to see this as well in the classrooms.

When we finish our lesson, we chat for a little bit, getting to know each other better before I leave for my house. I get home, and my host parents have already eaten. So I start to make myself dinner. I heat up a plate of leftover sărmale. I think about how I should have some starch with my meal, so I slice myself a piece of bread. When I finish my meal, I think about how the stuffing of sărmale is meat and RICE. I laugh at myself for thinking I needed bread. One of the many ways Moldova has rubbed off on me.

I clean my dishes and head up stairs to finish my planning. I have to plan for three lessons, finish preparing for two lessons the next day, and type up two lesson plans. I begin working, only occasionally getting distracted by the internet. Every once in a while I start to question if I’m working too hard or if my work will be done in vain since many things I make or plan don’t happen. But I try to reflect on the positive influences I have made so far, even though they are small. It’s just enough to motivate me to finish my work.

Once I finish my planning, it’s 9:00, which means I need to decide whether or not I need a shower. My hair doesn’t look too greasy, and I don’t smell too bad yet, so I decide the shower can wait another day. I start to get ready for bed before starting to type a blog for my website.

As I sit down and reflect on my day, I think about how plain it can seem. It’s not really what is often pictured when people think of volunteers in the Peace Corps. I don’t have this grand adventure everyday. I don't wake up worried about what poisonous insects might have crawled into my shoes. In fact, when it comes to necessities, my life is not much more difficult than my life in America. And yet, this has definitely been the toughest job I have ever had. I have to integrate into a new culture. I have to deal with requirements or expectations everyday that can be quite annoying. I am constantly challenged with obstacles that require me to be flexible or patient in ways I’m not used to. I have to push myself outside my comfort-zone all the time. But when I think about all of these challenges, I also know how much I have grown and matured while learning how to deal with these difficulties. I wonder…who is really getting the help, Moldova or me?