Saturday, November 21, 2009
So Full, So Good
Had my first Thanksgiving today with about 11 other volunteers at a community upstairs in the Moldovan section of Romania, which is not the same as the Republic of Moldova but close. Very full, very tired, very nice day. All the tradition foods, even some tasty cranberry sauce with real cranberries. There ought to be more stories to tell but we are all exhausted from our lives, travel, too much delicious food, and not sleeping well on Veronica and David's floor. Maybe tomorrow.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Probably the Best-Spent 10 lei in the World
Last night I got in one more event at the city theater before leaving town for the holiday adventure: kindergarten kids reciting poetry and singing traditional Romanian songs while dressed in traditional costumes. Priceless, you say? Nah, but only ten lei. There were ten participants in the 5-year-old category. The MC was fantastic and they were backed up by a professional (very professional--ever tried to accompany a five year old butchering a national tune?) traditional music ensemble. By traditional ensemble, we're talking three accordians, two clarinetists, two people playing what looked like Peruvian pan pipes but with a sound more like a bird, five violinists, a guitar player, a stand-up bass player, and a man playing something that I would say combines piano and xylophone qualities. And a conductor who worked great with the kids. Each child got up on a little podium with a microphone and answered loosen-up questions from the MC. Then delivered on the poem and song. During the first round with the five-year-olds, the best moment came when--between poem and song--one girl announced that she had to use the toilet. Next. She came back later to finish up. Then during the six-and-seven-year-old round, one girl completely choked and walked off crying. She also returned later to do a great job. In the end, these two girls won their age categories proving that 1. the sympathy vote is alive and well, or (more likely) 2. that the judges were able to overlook a little drama and see that these girls in fact had the right stuff. While the votes were being tallied we were treated to more music and professional singers and dancers in costume. Great fun.
The funniest part of the evening, though, was the free-for-all atmosphere both in the audience and on the stage with the kids. The performers were seated on stage while their age-group-mates performed, but nobody sat still. And kids in the audience ran around and danced and inevitably pulled on my hair. One little girl even wandered around the stage for awhile while her mother watched from the front row, apparently helpless to corral her child. And why, really? Nobody minded, just another ring in the circus. I tell you, great fun. I thought, these kids are going to sleep well tonight.
The funniest part of the evening, though, was the free-for-all atmosphere both in the audience and on the stage with the kids. The performers were seated on stage while their age-group-mates performed, but nobody sat still. And kids in the audience ran around and danced and inevitably pulled on my hair. One little girl even wandered around the stage for awhile while her mother watched from the front row, apparently helpless to corral her child. And why, really? Nobody minded, just another ring in the circus. I tell you, great fun. I thought, these kids are going to sleep well tonight.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Probably the Best Kitchen Mat in the World
This morning I wrote on Facebook, "My fair city was just completely gobbled up by fog, no coming on little cat feet about it. I hope it spits us out again subsequently." And it did and we've had a nice sunny day with temperatures up around 60. Heaven for November. And then I went to the post office...
And my yoga pants are super long! Sisters rock! ₁ ₂
And my yoga pants are super long! Sisters rock! ₁ ₂
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A Post About Post
Post is what we call "fast" as in not eating something for a defined period of time. It is a custom here (and I'm not sure if it's Romanian or Orthodox since the two are so interrelated) to observe the weeks leading up to both Christmas and Easter with a fast of no meat, dairy, or eggs. Basically, you're a vegan for a small period of time. This fast is broken on certain days when you can eat fish. And evidently the first three days of Easter post are supposed to be completely without food or water.
Christmas post began two days ago on Monday. Adela tells me that mostly these days it's the older women who observe post, but she tries. Her husband doesn't, so she makes different meals for the two of them. She likes that it makes her feel so clean and healthy; they should do it all the time but they like meat too much. I met a woman today who explained to me that they still eat sarmale during post but use soy crumbles (readily available here) instead of pork. Christmas post ends with the ritual cutting of the pig for Christmas.
I don't know the exact background of post, particularly for Christmas. The Easter post goes along pretty well with our Lenten season. But I've been told by Adela and Aurelia that the closer you can come to a full post, the more good...hmm, shall I say karma...you have to get into heaven. But of course, like in most things, you get points for trying and doing partial post. So I am attempting post myself, at least the meat part. I was never a very good vegan, but it's pretty easy to not eat meat here if you are so inclined. And most importantly, if you are a guest in someone's house it is rude not to eat what they serve you--unless you can say you are observing post.
So until Christmas, I'm in detox. Mmmm...soy crumbles.
Christmas post began two days ago on Monday. Adela tells me that mostly these days it's the older women who observe post, but she tries. Her husband doesn't, so she makes different meals for the two of them. She likes that it makes her feel so clean and healthy; they should do it all the time but they like meat too much. I met a woman today who explained to me that they still eat sarmale during post but use soy crumbles (readily available here) instead of pork. Christmas post ends with the ritual cutting of the pig for Christmas.
I don't know the exact background of post, particularly for Christmas. The Easter post goes along pretty well with our Lenten season. But I've been told by Adela and Aurelia that the closer you can come to a full post, the more good...hmm, shall I say karma...you have to get into heaven. But of course, like in most things, you get points for trying and doing partial post. So I am attempting post myself, at least the meat part. I was never a very good vegan, but it's pretty easy to not eat meat here if you are so inclined. And most importantly, if you are a guest in someone's house it is rude not to eat what they serve you--unless you can say you are observing post.
So until Christmas, I'm in detox. Mmmm...soy crumbles.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Unbearable Disruption of Identity (again/still?)
I feel like if I am not accomplishing something tangible that my skills are being wasted because I identify myself as someone whose value lies in accomplishing something tangible. Of what use am I to Romania? Of less importance at the moment, of what use is Romania to me?
Today I learned of an extensive ethnographic/anthropologic study recently finished of my county by the people from the university (does it really matter what people at what university?). I'm sorry, tell me why I'm undertaking this project of mine that smells ripely of ethnography?
Obviously I just need to keep going, to find the angle that hasn't been covered--which should actually be easy since none of these other ethno-works are readily available to the public. And most of all, reframe my idea of who I am. Being a Peace Corps volunteer means never having to say I know why I'm here.
Today I learned of an extensive ethnographic/anthropologic study recently finished of my county by the people from the university (does it really matter what people at what university?). I'm sorry, tell me why I'm undertaking this project of mine that smells ripely of ethnography?
Obviously I just need to keep going, to find the angle that hasn't been covered--which should actually be easy since none of these other ethno-works are readily available to the public. And most of all, reframe my idea of who I am. Being a Peace Corps volunteer means never having to say I know why I'm here.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Politics, Romanian Style
My headline might lead you to believe that I know something about Romanian politics. So let me confess from the start that I've heard a lot, seen a little, and comprehended almost nothing except the obvious: our national government dissolved recently because evidently we don't play well with others; we have a presidential election this coming Sunday which will most certainly lead to a run-off election on December 6th, unless one of the candidates gets 50% of the votes; people here seem either rabidly in favor of one canditate or another or completely apathetic; and it's colorful.
A generally held belief here is that the revolution of 1989 which culminated in the execution of dictator Nicolae Ceaucescu and dictatoara Mrs. Ceaucescu on Christmas Day in Targoviste, just down the street from the lovely train station, was actually a coup staged secretly by his #2 guy who then swept in as the democratic leader to save Romania. As we can see by the 20th anniversary celebrations of other liberated Eastern bloc countries, a change was gonna happen anyway. Why not, if you're the #2 guy, make it a change in your favor. Ever since, you can understand the apathy on the part of the populace when in fact the more things change the more they stay the same. Romanians have very little faith in state government. I've been told that the political parties are not actually that different from each other; it's a contest of personality and of which party you think will grant you favors. When the president is elected, his party will then be able to put their people in any state job or even local job in the country. Imagine if our presidential elections also determined who your governer would be, or large city mayors. While we expect that a new president means a new Secretary of Interior and then a new Director of the National Park Service, we don't expect that at Manzanar, for example, we would get a new superintendent from that party. Here, we do. My park director prides himself on being independent and therefore immune. We will see.
I'm including photos of our ubiquitous campaign posters. Orange, Red, Yellow, and Blue; that is how I distinguish the parties. If you go to the mayor's office, you can get a free orange pen. Yesterday in Greci, my friend Felicia picked up a free yellow plastic mug. I confess a terrible urge to draw mustaches on these faces, but somehow my fellow Tulceans resist.
And here's seven minutes of NPS coverage of corruption in Romania. I hear a lot about this--anything from parents bribing teachers for better grades, rampant hospital bribery, and more standard political stuff. Is this why the granite quarry people are now being allowed to build a road through our park? Maybe I don't want to know. For all of Romania's beauty, there is a deep rotten core that I cannot solve and thus must mostly ignore. And we'll see if anything can change with the new president or pressure from the EU.
A generally held belief here is that the revolution of 1989 which culminated in the execution of dictator Nicolae Ceaucescu and dictatoara Mrs. Ceaucescu on Christmas Day in Targoviste, just down the street from the lovely train station, was actually a coup staged secretly by his #2 guy who then swept in as the democratic leader to save Romania. As we can see by the 20th anniversary celebrations of other liberated Eastern bloc countries, a change was gonna happen anyway. Why not, if you're the #2 guy, make it a change in your favor. Ever since, you can understand the apathy on the part of the populace when in fact the more things change the more they stay the same. Romanians have very little faith in state government. I've been told that the political parties are not actually that different from each other; it's a contest of personality and of which party you think will grant you favors. When the president is elected, his party will then be able to put their people in any state job or even local job in the country. Imagine if our presidential elections also determined who your governer would be, or large city mayors. While we expect that a new president means a new Secretary of Interior and then a new Director of the National Park Service, we don't expect that at Manzanar, for example, we would get a new superintendent from that party. Here, we do. My park director prides himself on being independent and therefore immune. We will see.
I'm including photos of our ubiquitous campaign posters. Orange, Red, Yellow, and Blue; that is how I distinguish the parties. If you go to the mayor's office, you can get a free orange pen. Yesterday in Greci, my friend Felicia picked up a free yellow plastic mug. I confess a terrible urge to draw mustaches on these faces, but somehow my fellow Tulceans resist.
And here's seven minutes of NPS coverage of corruption in Romania. I hear a lot about this--anything from parents bribing teachers for better grades, rampant hospital bribery, and more standard political stuff. Is this why the granite quarry people are now being allowed to build a road through our park? Maybe I don't want to know. For all of Romania's beauty, there is a deep rotten core that I cannot solve and thus must mostly ignore. And we'll see if anything can change with the new president or pressure from the EU.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Got My Prayers In
Got out of bed much earlier than I would normally want on a Sunday to catch a bus out to Greci to attend Catholic church with the communities Italians. This community has been in the area for more than a hundred years, but still keep many traditions which I would like to learn more about. Felicia, the librarian, met me at the bus stop and we had a coffee and donut at Angelo's to start. Yes, Angelo's is the Italian bakery that we love so much in Greci.
Then we drove in her light blue Dacia around town. This is my first ride in an old Dacia, which is sort of the Romanian equivalent of the VW bug, but many are still in use. First we popped in at one of the Orthodox churces (I think so F. could have her obligatory 10 minutes). On our way out, I saw a woman I know and we did cheek-kisses and "I wait for you!"
Then Catholic service which was quite enjoyable. We had a choir upstairs that I thought was just the attendees, until I heard the rumbling upstairs during communion and realized it was a choir in the balcony. I wanted to meet the priest but he didn't seem that interested in me, which is a fairly common thing; one end of the spectrum of people's reactions. I also think that it's much better when I introduce myself instead of being introduced. Because it's hard for people to figure out, let alone explain to someone else, who I am and what I'm doing here. Anyway, the point is to find people involved in traditional activities, and just get to know people anyway. So it was worthwhile. And I did have a very nice extended conversation with a man at the bus stop waiting to come home.
Then we drove in her light blue Dacia around town. This is my first ride in an old Dacia, which is sort of the Romanian equivalent of the VW bug, but many are still in use. First we popped in at one of the Orthodox churces (I think so F. could have her obligatory 10 minutes). On our way out, I saw a woman I know and we did cheek-kisses and "I wait for you!"
Then Catholic service which was quite enjoyable. We had a choir upstairs that I thought was just the attendees, until I heard the rumbling upstairs during communion and realized it was a choir in the balcony. I wanted to meet the priest but he didn't seem that interested in me, which is a fairly common thing; one end of the spectrum of people's reactions. I also think that it's much better when I introduce myself instead of being introduced. Because it's hard for people to figure out, let alone explain to someone else, who I am and what I'm doing here. Anyway, the point is to find people involved in traditional activities, and just get to know people anyway. So it was worthwhile. And I did have a very nice extended conversation with a man at the bus stop waiting to come home.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Folk Music in Tulcea
Quite by accident, I found out today about a folk music festival this weekend in my fair city. I went to the theater tonight and paid 7 lei for a ticket (tickets were advertised at 6 lei, 30, but the woman didn't have change) which rounds out to less than 3$US. The crowd was young and most of the performers were too. Most played two songs each, then the last three--the professionals I guess--played more, for a total of three and a half hours of music. All very enjoyable. I was expecting something different, however. And I think I can describe it as the difference between "traditional music" and "folk music." Traditional music is the costumes, accordians, and instruments we may not recognize. Folk music is ridiculously similar to what we know as folk music, and the songs are familiar enough that people sing along. Forgive my shaky video, but here is a sampling, including a picture of Napoleon Dynamite's prom date who introduced the musicians. The woman at the end could be the Romanian Eva Cassidy; I expected her to break out into Autumn Leaves. 
Friday, November 13, 2009
The Privileges of Friday
Was so exhausted last night I went to be early and was promptly wide awake at 4 AM. Then of course was exhausted again by seven. But it's friday, I thought. I can go in late, leave early, and wear jeans. Of course today (surprise!)was the day Adela and I went back to see the school inspectorat, the lady in charge of all things school in the county. Blessedly she wasn't in. Then we went to a school where Adela offered up my services, not really sure why now, three months in when my plate is overflowing. Adela also told me that I could go to her mother-in-law's school any time I like. Really? Why have you been keeping that one to yourself? Nothing breeds success like success, and I would think I'm choking except that it's a common occurence here that people don't do what they say they will, and it's best to commit to many things knowing that most will fall through. While I understand this intellectually, I still have a hard time playing that game myself; I don't feel comfortable saying I'll do things that I know I can't do. So I felt a little used. But I was wearing jeans, so I didn't take it to hard.
Then I came home--yes, early--and roasted me a chicken. The fallen vegetarian in me still doesn't feel good about this, but I roast a mean chicken: stuff a cut-up onion and a ridiculous amount of salt in the cavity, salt and pepper the skin heavily, wrap in baking paper just like you're Martha Stewart, and cook it til it's done in an oven that's somewhere between too cool and too hot. Couldn't be easier or moister.
The editor in me doesn't feel good about a few things too: not using the last comma, justifying text, centering everything. Is the Romanian aesthetic really that different or did they miss the memo. I redesigned a poster for a meeting we had using more modern design ideas and Adela loved it. Then promptly returned to the Romanian way the next time. This bodes very poorly for my ability to control the design of our book, but I have many months to wield my power.
Time for a friday night movie on the computer and a good night's sleep. I actually have much planned for the weekend.
Then I came home--yes, early--and roasted me a chicken. The fallen vegetarian in me still doesn't feel good about this, but I roast a mean chicken: stuff a cut-up onion and a ridiculous amount of salt in the cavity, salt and pepper the skin heavily, wrap in baking paper just like you're Martha Stewart, and cook it til it's done in an oven that's somewhere between too cool and too hot. Couldn't be easier or moister.
The editor in me doesn't feel good about a few things too: not using the last comma, justifying text, centering everything. Is the Romanian aesthetic really that different or did they miss the memo. I redesigned a poster for a meeting we had using more modern design ideas and Adela loved it. Then promptly returned to the Romanian way the next time. This bodes very poorly for my ability to control the design of our book, but I have many months to wield my power.
Time for a friday night movie on the computer and a good night's sleep. I actually have much planned for the weekend.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
3...2...1...Blastoff!
Whoa Nellie, I'm busy now. Yesterday, Adela and I had a very successful presentation at the Luncavita Middle School to about 50 kids. I gave a 6 minute presentation about parks in the states, why we love them, and how great it is that park rangers work with teachers to teach everything from science and geography to literature and history. Adela talked about our park here. Then we played a game about trash. Adela is really great with kids and loves them. I hope to foster her increased visitation to schools. 
And some of the local textiles on display at the school:
Then today I bused myself out to Greci to meet with the Mayor. With my exceptional luck, he was not in and instead I spent a great part of my morning with his wife and the town librarian. It was a little bit of Sandy Bilyeu syndrome* where she was, in fact, the better half to find. These two women spent a long time with me and served me iced tea and tangerines. They showed me a video about Greci and photographs. And Mrs. Mayor now has a list of steps I must take to learn about their town. Next step, Catholic Church on Sunday. This community has a large number of Italian immigrants and the priest is evidently a go-getter. Also has an engaging history professor who is somewhere on the list as well.
In case you'd forgotten, IN ROMANIAN!
I learned a funny thing today: the word for weaving loom (everybody has one) is the same as the word for war. This explains some confusion I was having about the activities of the older ladies around Romania.
*Owens Valley reference: delightful, active wife of town supervisor. I bet your town has one too.
And some of the local textiles on display at the school:
Then today I bused myself out to Greci to meet with the Mayor. With my exceptional luck, he was not in and instead I spent a great part of my morning with his wife and the town librarian. It was a little bit of Sandy Bilyeu syndrome* where she was, in fact, the better half to find. These two women spent a long time with me and served me iced tea and tangerines. They showed me a video about Greci and photographs. And Mrs. Mayor now has a list of steps I must take to learn about their town. Next step, Catholic Church on Sunday. This community has a large number of Italian immigrants and the priest is evidently a go-getter. Also has an engaging history professor who is somewhere on the list as well. In case you'd forgotten, IN ROMANIAN!
I learned a funny thing today: the word for weaving loom (everybody has one) is the same as the word for war. This explains some confusion I was having about the activities of the older ladies around Romania.
*Owens Valley reference: delightful, active wife of town supervisor. I bet your town has one too.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Mr. Steed's Bumbershoot
Today’s threat of rain turned blessedly into a sunny blue sky. But the gray days and forecasts finally led me to the umbrella store where I found a very cheaply made but delightful looking rendition of the classic black umbrella. And this morning walking to work feeling sporty in my saddle-brown corduroy pants (corduroy very popular here, I fit in well) and my sky-blue fleece vest, swinging the umbrella, I was taken back in time to the summer in college after freshman year when I lived in Brighton and commuted into town on the T, when my neighbor/boyfriend called me Mrs. Peel, somewhat for the umbrella and probably more for my punk-rock pointy-toed boots. I was free and jaunty, really on my own for the first time.
Since then I’ve actually seen many episodes of the Avengers and Mrs. Peel still makes a great brainy role model. While I don’t have her funky berets and little cat suits (and heck, her slinky little cat body!), walking the cobblestones of Romania on a warm, foggy morning swinging my bumbershoot, I can pretend that I am off to save the world from imminent danger and to make witty, provocative jokes with some imagined Mr. Steed.
Since then I’ve actually seen many episodes of the Avengers and Mrs. Peel still makes a great brainy role model. While I don’t have her funky berets and little cat suits (and heck, her slinky little cat body!), walking the cobblestones of Romania on a warm, foggy morning swinging my bumbershoot, I can pretend that I am off to save the world from imminent danger and to make witty, provocative jokes with some imagined Mr. Steed.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
These Riches Bless
Sitting at my kitchen table, finished with my perfect dinner of reheated quiche and red cabbage/carrot/tahini dressing salad, I'm thinking I've exhausted what there is to say about my little life. Laundry hangs in the balcon, the enclosed balcony space, refusing to dry in the once-again dank gray air. I'm listening to last weekend's Prairie Home Companion on my computer. Soon I will practice speaking out loud my part of tomorrow's presentation to our first school group. I have photographs of parks in America and a small story of my life in the parks, the history of the parks and how beloved they are, and the punchline about how parks and park rangers are great partners for teachers in teaching many different subjects. Later, I'll stalk the history teacher to talk about my oral history project.
Today I did have two great work-related accomplishments. (Sorry if you're bored with these. One of these days I'll talk about the train-wreck of Romanian politics. Meanwhile...) I wrote and translated a letter to send to all of our mayors from my director introducing me and my project and requesting a meeting. After much rewording and editing on his part (thank you Alisa for the good training, this didn't phase me one bit), I was able to formalize them, get them stampila-ed*, and fax them out to each mayor of our seven towns. I will follow up over the next couple of weeks to get meetings. This is a formality I must undertake before going into schools on my own, or trying to spend much time farting around town trying to meet people. So this was progress, albeit bureaucratic.
Second accomplishment was a phone call from my Doctor, well not my personal physician, but the Doctor I've been trying to meet for my weekend volunteering. I had texted him so that he would know who I was before we actually spoke. It worked! He called me and spoke very slowly and clearly. Somebody has the flu so we can't meet this week but he will call me next week and we'll try then. Oddly, although time slips away more and more, this is progress and I survived another all-Romanian phone call. They are SO hard. So I await his next call.
And I got a lovely postcard from a friend. And you know, they are (dare I say it) just as good as packages. And somehow related to yesterday's post missing or not missing things: I miss places and people not because the present is less satisfying; but that I've had such rich and unique adventures. I love being here, yes in Romania, but more on the planet. What an amazing thing it is to have this life...so short, so fragile, so much of our own making, so much of it out of control.
*Stampila-In Romania, and I suspect in other places too, nothing official happens (maybe nothing at all happens) without somebody putting a stampila on a piece of paper. It serves the purpose that we associate with a signature. Everyone of any importance has their own ink stamp with their company name or affiliation on it. They stamp the paper and then sign on the stamp. And we volunteers have all undergone the rite of passage spending hours stampila-ing documents to prove that they are official. What I find funny about this is that I could easily walk in to any of the multiple stampila stores and have a stampila made to my specifications. Well I assume so; I haven't tried. But let's just say that nothing says roll-your-eyes bureaucracy like the stampila. And yet...it is my Master.
Today I did have two great work-related accomplishments. (Sorry if you're bored with these. One of these days I'll talk about the train-wreck of Romanian politics. Meanwhile...) I wrote and translated a letter to send to all of our mayors from my director introducing me and my project and requesting a meeting. After much rewording and editing on his part (thank you Alisa for the good training, this didn't phase me one bit), I was able to formalize them, get them stampila-ed*, and fax them out to each mayor of our seven towns. I will follow up over the next couple of weeks to get meetings. This is a formality I must undertake before going into schools on my own, or trying to spend much time farting around town trying to meet people. So this was progress, albeit bureaucratic.
Second accomplishment was a phone call from my Doctor, well not my personal physician, but the Doctor I've been trying to meet for my weekend volunteering. I had texted him so that he would know who I was before we actually spoke. It worked! He called me and spoke very slowly and clearly. Somebody has the flu so we can't meet this week but he will call me next week and we'll try then. Oddly, although time slips away more and more, this is progress and I survived another all-Romanian phone call. They are SO hard. So I await his next call.
And I got a lovely postcard from a friend. And you know, they are (dare I say it) just as good as packages. And somehow related to yesterday's post missing or not missing things: I miss places and people not because the present is less satisfying; but that I've had such rich and unique adventures. I love being here, yes in Romania, but more on the planet. What an amazing thing it is to have this life...so short, so fragile, so much of our own making, so much of it out of control.
*Stampila-In Romania, and I suspect in other places too, nothing official happens (maybe nothing at all happens) without somebody putting a stampila on a piece of paper. It serves the purpose that we associate with a signature. Everyone of any importance has their own ink stamp with their company name or affiliation on it. They stamp the paper and then sign on the stamp. And we volunteers have all undergone the rite of passage spending hours stampila-ing documents to prove that they are official. What I find funny about this is that I could easily walk in to any of the multiple stampila stores and have a stampila made to my specifications. Well I assume so; I haven't tried. But let's just say that nothing says roll-your-eyes bureaucracy like the stampila. And yet...it is my Master.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Direct Correlation
I just picked up packages, oh let’s say 11 and 12 (I’ve lost track), at the post office this afternoon. A crazy bounty of tea, maple syrup, chocolate, pretty colored post-its, small holiday decorations, oregano oil capsules, black walnuts, Better Than Bouillion vegetable base, granola, Necco’s, and more. One box from Mom, one box from Dad (and of course their support teams—my wonderful step-parents). Don’t worry—I do share at a level of generosity not too far in the shadow of generosity of my family and friends.
So yesterday, I read on facebook a posting from another volunteer in my group, “I finally got my first care package from home (list of wonderful enclosures). Thank you Mom and Dad” Then, in reply to a comment, “You really don’t want to come to Romania. I admit it has its pretty places but it is still a third world country and I am leaving on the first plane out of here in June, 2011.”
And it occurred to me that my happiness (I am NOT counting the days, and there are no chickens on my lap) in Romania may be in direct correlation to the number of care packages I’ve received. I don’t have hard scientific data polling volunteers’ happiness in correlation to the amount of loot arriving at their post office. And I certainly don’t know for sure that I would be less happy without the obscene number of boxes I’ve gotten. But I’m glad I don’t have to know. Another example of: I am only as good as the folks behind the scenes.
Oh, and btw Judy, the soap you sent is perfect—not overly scented, and very rich. Good winter dry-skin soap.
And also, I really think those numbers 11 and 12 are correct. You people are nuts! In a really delightful way!
So yesterday, I read on facebook a posting from another volunteer in my group, “I finally got my first care package from home (list of wonderful enclosures). Thank you Mom and Dad” Then, in reply to a comment, “You really don’t want to come to Romania. I admit it has its pretty places but it is still a third world country and I am leaving on the first plane out of here in June, 2011.”
And it occurred to me that my happiness (I am NOT counting the days, and there are no chickens on my lap) in Romania may be in direct correlation to the number of care packages I’ve received. I don’t have hard scientific data polling volunteers’ happiness in correlation to the amount of loot arriving at their post office. And I certainly don’t know for sure that I would be less happy without the obscene number of boxes I’ve gotten. But I’m glad I don’t have to know. Another example of: I am only as good as the folks behind the scenes.
Oh, and btw Judy, the soap you sent is perfect—not overly scented, and very rich. Good winter dry-skin soap.
And also, I really think those numbers 11 and 12 are correct. You people are nuts! In a really delightful way!
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Week in Pictures
As you know, I generally prefer a thousand words. But here are a few photos of my adventures this week, including today's sun-filled trip out to Manasterie Celic Dere where the nuns live...and sing. Service was crowded today as it was Saint Michael's day, and the singing by the nuns was beautiful. I'm hoping that my work project will necessitate me taking many more pictures and I will have more to share visually. 
A little fall flower exhibiting more hope than I have seen heretofore in Romania.
Beech valley (Valea Fagilor) with our unique endemic hybrid beech which exists only in our park and in Crimea, and a nut casing
A little fall flower exhibiting more hope than I have seen heretofore in Romania.
Beech valley (Valea Fagilor) with our unique endemic hybrid beech which exists only in our park and in Crimea, and a nut casing
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Russian Dances and Random Thoughts
RT#1: I'm amazed by how many fish bones I can swallow and not choke.
RT#2: I have two purposes in Romania: the first is to provide ground coffee for my office (I bring the coffee, Alina brings the sugar, Adela makes the coffee); and the second is to provide the light bulbs for my apartment building's hallway. Not bad, really.
RT#3: Good things really do come to those who wait, if while waiting you pretend that you are not waiting for anything.
Russian Dances: Last night, we went to the Russian Spectacol at the city theater, no tickets necessary. We had a teenager play amazing piano, Tchaicovski (who knows anymore how to spell it in English), two tiny little girls violin some Shostakovich, then two teenagers play a couple of pieces that brought the house down. Dang were they talented. Then singing and dancing with incredible costumes. One group of four women came out in green and cream dresses holding red scarves. They moved as if on wheels, but we could see their feet so we understood the mastery of their fluid movement. Then it ended with the local theater company performing scenes from Chekov plays. As far as I could tell, there was no Dosteyevski, but the festival continues for three more days. And yes, the Russian men did that dance where they put their hands on their hips, squat, then hop up and kick out their legs. Wow, what an athletic performance. And to give credit, one of the male roles was played by a woman who held her own beautifully. After the spectacol, Aurelia and her husband Gabi and I went across the street for a pastry. Lovely evening.
This morning I went and had coffee with Maria. And fish and cake. She showed me many very old (100 years) decorated textiles from various communities around Tulcea. I think she said that she wants to make an exhibit. Or maybe she has already made an exhibit. Anyway, she gifted me a few things made by children in the past few years. A very special gift. And she gave me the name and number of the doctor that I would like to meet for weekend volunteering. I'd rather have his email, but maybe I can text him at least a brief introduction before calling him.
And now I and the whole city of Tulcea are doing our laundry. It must be in the 60's out there and sunny. Clotheslines of the world unite--this is your day. Later I'll pop on down to the Russian Cultural Center and see what's up.
It appears as though I have a life, doesn't it? This blog-a-day business would have been very dismal in September.
Maria's once and future textile exhibit.
RT#2: I have two purposes in Romania: the first is to provide ground coffee for my office (I bring the coffee, Alina brings the sugar, Adela makes the coffee); and the second is to provide the light bulbs for my apartment building's hallway. Not bad, really.
RT#3: Good things really do come to those who wait, if while waiting you pretend that you are not waiting for anything.
Russian Dances: Last night, we went to the Russian Spectacol at the city theater, no tickets necessary. We had a teenager play amazing piano, Tchaicovski (who knows anymore how to spell it in English), two tiny little girls violin some Shostakovich, then two teenagers play a couple of pieces that brought the house down. Dang were they talented. Then singing and dancing with incredible costumes. One group of four women came out in green and cream dresses holding red scarves. They moved as if on wheels, but we could see their feet so we understood the mastery of their fluid movement. Then it ended with the local theater company performing scenes from Chekov plays. As far as I could tell, there was no Dosteyevski, but the festival continues for three more days. And yes, the Russian men did that dance where they put their hands on their hips, squat, then hop up and kick out their legs. Wow, what an athletic performance. And to give credit, one of the male roles was played by a woman who held her own beautifully. After the spectacol, Aurelia and her husband Gabi and I went across the street for a pastry. Lovely evening.
This morning I went and had coffee with Maria. And fish and cake. She showed me many very old (100 years) decorated textiles from various communities around Tulcea. I think she said that she wants to make an exhibit. Or maybe she has already made an exhibit. Anyway, she gifted me a few things made by children in the past few years. A very special gift. And she gave me the name and number of the doctor that I would like to meet for weekend volunteering. I'd rather have his email, but maybe I can text him at least a brief introduction before calling him.
And now I and the whole city of Tulcea are doing our laundry. It must be in the 60's out there and sunny. Clotheslines of the world unite--this is your day. Later I'll pop on down to the Russian Cultural Center and see what's up.
It appears as though I have a life, doesn't it? This blog-a-day business would have been very dismal in September.
Maria's once and future textile exhibit.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Dostoyevski?
Home early because many federal offices close at 2 on friday. No complaints from me. Took a nap and am now eating some rice and getting ready to go out. Aurelia and I are attending an event this evening. The Russian Cultural Center is hosting a three-day Dosteyevski festival. Tonight, my landlord told me, there is something going on at the town theater. So we will go and see what we can see.
Alas, I'm bone tired after my week. But I will get a good night's sleep before heading out tomorrow morning for my next cup of coffee in my coffee/social service project.
Grant Auditor today told me about a book I think I should read about Istanbul called My Name is Red. Anyone read it? Thoughts?
Alas, I'm bone tired after my week. But I will get a good night's sleep before heading out tomorrow morning for my next cup of coffee in my coffee/social service project.
Grant Auditor today told me about a book I think I should read about Istanbul called My Name is Red. Anyone read it? Thoughts?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
If Only I Could Inspire the Use of Calendars
Today began knowing the whirlwind may continue. Funny how these things stop and start on a dime, and change directions. Like the Owens Valley March winds. In the office at 8:30 when Mr. Director asked me (again) if my translation of the project summary for Visiting Auditor could be done by Friday (tomorrow). I smiled and said (again) no way, I only got it Tuesday and it's long. So then, giving up, he asked if I wanted to come with them to city offices for today's meetings. I smiled and said yes, thank you.
First meeting was with the Prefect. As usual, Mr. Director did not introduce me and ignored me throughout the meeting. So at the end, as we were on the verge of saying goodbye, I began, in my best Romanian, to the nice Prefect man: "If I could, my name is Gretel Enck. I am also from America (as is Grant Auditor), but with a different purpose. I am living in Tulcea and working with the park for two years. Mr. Director and I are currently working to develop a project for me to promote the cultural traditions in the communties around the park (OK-actually Mr. Director has done everything he can to avoid helping me develop this project) and I am very happy to meet him and happy to be in Tulcea." At which point the Prefect is incredulous. My first thought is that he is incredulous that a woman can do something besides serve coffee, translate, or take notes. Then I understand that he is incredulous that an American can speak Romanian. Frankly, I'm a bit incredulous myself. Then he tells me that his door is always open, and maybe some other things that I don't understand. And then we leave. And by the way,I make a point to profusely thank the secretary who brought us coffee. And she takes my hand and wishes me a good day.
Next meeting was with County Councilman. He's a money-man through and through so I don't waste my I-wasn't-introduced-and-I'm-being-ignored-so-I'm-going-to-be-a-pushy-American breath on him. Plus we got no coffee here.
Then in the hallway, I got a call from Madame Maria from my social service agency. I'd mentioned that I could be available for a meeting with her and Mr. Doctor on Thursday. As is typical, I hadn't heard back from her until now, Thursday morning. It's easier to not hold it against her because she is so sweet to me. Fortunately our translater was still hanging around and she took the phone and noted the details. Mr. Director and Mr. Auditor were heading to more meetings. I think I was accurately feeling the amount of need for me in these meetings and I bailed, getting a ride with the very pleasant translator who was also no longer needed.
I met Madame Maria at the library. To see the central Tulcea library was itself a revelation, a very pleasant revelation. I met some of her friends, and sort of understood that she was supposed to have a meeting with a woman who's office door read something about County Department of Culture and Tradition. Hai! Bingo! Alas she didn't have time for us. Then I was asked if I want to go to Tichilesti, a small community whose purpose shall be revealed if and when I actually get there, to have a meeting. YES!!!! Alas we have no car, and no one can give us a ride. I mention the bus. Yes. Meanwhile time is passing very slowly and her friends are marveling that I want to volunteer. And volunteer more. And why again am I in Romania? We meet a woman who looks to be quite elderly but ridiculously spry who is a biologist who has done work with our park. Finally we go to the bus station where I learn we are only finding out the schedule. And then Madame Maria walks me back to my office. She invites me for coffee again this weekend. And Tichilesti at some point in the future.
Then I am back at my office. Adela tells me that Mr. Director has taken away my translating job and assigned it to the translator from before, who also says it cannot be done by Friday. Make the W sign with your hands and listen to me say, "whatever..." And the day slows down. I translate my project plan into Romanian for Mr. Director. Adela edits and approves.
I forget about a package that has arrived and don't make it to the post office on time; I will savor the anticipation of retrieving that on Monday. But finally after 10 weeks and many packages, the ladies at the post office cornered me and asked me my life story. I am so IN at the post office now. My Romanian still has a long way to go, but I'm definitely at a stage where I can wow the locals. Big milestone.
And now I am home with a piece of quiche in the oven. Because it's been damp and dank, I have tomorrow's undies and socks on the oven door handle, will do double duty as oven mitts. And I have all evening to enjoy my new ODE magazine which finally found me here in Romania. It's the September/October issue so we're not that far behind.
More tomorrow. I can hardly wait. I don't know the source of the following cartoon, but it makes me very happy and I apologize for any illegal use.
First meeting was with the Prefect. As usual, Mr. Director did not introduce me and ignored me throughout the meeting. So at the end, as we were on the verge of saying goodbye, I began, in my best Romanian, to the nice Prefect man: "If I could, my name is Gretel Enck. I am also from America (as is Grant Auditor), but with a different purpose. I am living in Tulcea and working with the park for two years. Mr. Director and I are currently working to develop a project for me to promote the cultural traditions in the communties around the park (OK-actually Mr. Director has done everything he can to avoid helping me develop this project) and I am very happy to meet him and happy to be in Tulcea." At which point the Prefect is incredulous. My first thought is that he is incredulous that a woman can do something besides serve coffee, translate, or take notes. Then I understand that he is incredulous that an American can speak Romanian. Frankly, I'm a bit incredulous myself. Then he tells me that his door is always open, and maybe some other things that I don't understand. And then we leave. And by the way,I make a point to profusely thank the secretary who brought us coffee. And she takes my hand and wishes me a good day.
Next meeting was with County Councilman. He's a money-man through and through so I don't waste my I-wasn't-introduced-and-I'm-being-ignored-so-I'm-going-to-be-a-pushy-American breath on him. Plus we got no coffee here.
Then in the hallway, I got a call from Madame Maria from my social service agency. I'd mentioned that I could be available for a meeting with her and Mr. Doctor on Thursday. As is typical, I hadn't heard back from her until now, Thursday morning. It's easier to not hold it against her because she is so sweet to me. Fortunately our translater was still hanging around and she took the phone and noted the details. Mr. Director and Mr. Auditor were heading to more meetings. I think I was accurately feeling the amount of need for me in these meetings and I bailed, getting a ride with the very pleasant translator who was also no longer needed.
I met Madame Maria at the library. To see the central Tulcea library was itself a revelation, a very pleasant revelation. I met some of her friends, and sort of understood that she was supposed to have a meeting with a woman who's office door read something about County Department of Culture and Tradition. Hai! Bingo! Alas she didn't have time for us. Then I was asked if I want to go to Tichilesti, a small community whose purpose shall be revealed if and when I actually get there, to have a meeting. YES!!!! Alas we have no car, and no one can give us a ride. I mention the bus. Yes. Meanwhile time is passing very slowly and her friends are marveling that I want to volunteer. And volunteer more. And why again am I in Romania? We meet a woman who looks to be quite elderly but ridiculously spry who is a biologist who has done work with our park. Finally we go to the bus station where I learn we are only finding out the schedule. And then Madame Maria walks me back to my office. She invites me for coffee again this weekend. And Tichilesti at some point in the future.
Then I am back at my office. Adela tells me that Mr. Director has taken away my translating job and assigned it to the translator from before, who also says it cannot be done by Friday. Make the W sign with your hands and listen to me say, "whatever..." And the day slows down. I translate my project plan into Romanian for Mr. Director. Adela edits and approves.
I forget about a package that has arrived and don't make it to the post office on time; I will savor the anticipation of retrieving that on Monday. But finally after 10 weeks and many packages, the ladies at the post office cornered me and asked me my life story. I am so IN at the post office now. My Romanian still has a long way to go, but I'm definitely at a stage where I can wow the locals. Big milestone.
And now I am home with a piece of quiche in the oven. Because it's been damp and dank, I have tomorrow's undies and socks on the oven door handle, will do double duty as oven mitts. And I have all evening to enjoy my new ODE magazine which finally found me here in Romania. It's the September/October issue so we're not that far behind.
More tomorrow. I can hardly wait. I don't know the source of the following cartoon, but it makes me very happy and I apologize for any illegal use.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Another Whirlwind Day
I have whirlwind days and I have days that are ______ (insert the opposite of whirlwind). Today in the wind and driving rain by evening was a whirlwind day. Went out to the park communities because a nice American man came to evaluate a UN grant that we are at the end of spending. I met two mayors, saw three members of our field staff, ate three kinds of pork for lunch (are you surprised?), drank a lot of coffee, and actually did walk briefly in the park.
Cancelled tutoring and didn't get home until 7:30, oddly not hungry... Talked on the Skype with Veronica and David about Thanksgiving. I've convinced them to join me in Bucuresti for Peace Corps dinner a few days after our dinner at their house. I divulged that I've saved my care-package dried cranberries for their festivities. We had good peer support conversation too about our challenging job situations. Incredibly, Veronica--whom I see as the most ideal volunteer--can't get anything good going with her social service agency. This woman is frightfully bright, talented, experienced, and patient. Ugh, Romania. Then I messaged with Courtney about pork and about the state of men in Romania. We both feel like we will remain ten percent-ers, which is and will remain an inside joke.
Not very often that I can lament that there aren't enough hours in the day. But I must now go to bed and wake up tomorrow to one of those other days. No radiator heat yet, but it's warming up outside a bit in the next few days.
Cancelled tutoring and didn't get home until 7:30, oddly not hungry... Talked on the Skype with Veronica and David about Thanksgiving. I've convinced them to join me in Bucuresti for Peace Corps dinner a few days after our dinner at their house. I divulged that I've saved my care-package dried cranberries for their festivities. We had good peer support conversation too about our challenging job situations. Incredibly, Veronica--whom I see as the most ideal volunteer--can't get anything good going with her social service agency. This woman is frightfully bright, talented, experienced, and patient. Ugh, Romania. Then I messaged with Courtney about pork and about the state of men in Romania. We both feel like we will remain ten percent-ers, which is and will remain an inside joke.
Not very often that I can lament that there aren't enough hours in the day. But I must now go to bed and wake up tomorrow to one of those other days. No radiator heat yet, but it's warming up outside a bit in the next few days.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
The Plan
Had a very good meeting today with my Peace Corps manager and my counterpart at the park. We have come up with a project plan for me to execute in my time here. Still has to pass approval with my park director and we strategized a long time on how to do this. Ugh, to put it nicely, he is challenging. But this project serves his interests and costs him nothing. Anyway, here is the draft plan for you to peruse. It's in draft form still, and I can't say if my objectives are SMART; but if all goes well, this is what I'll be doing the next two years. Wish me luck.
The Macin Mountains Heritage Project: Project Plan
Problem Statement: In accordance with the Management Plan, Macin Mountains National Park Administration wants to increase public awareness and promote the development of tourism in the seven communities around the park, and would like to achieve this through the promotion of local cultures and traditions.
Project Mission Statement: The mission of this project is to promote the park and increase tourism to the Macin Mountains region by engaging the citizens of the seven communities in a Heritage Project designed to celebrate and promote local culture and tradition. Specifically, MMNP will document the cultural and traditional elements of people’s lives in the communities. From this documentation, we will create a book and new webpages that promote and teach about traditional lifeways of our communities. The book and webpages will be designed to be appealing to tourists and will serve as a model for other parks.
Project Scope: The scope of this project involves two distinct, yet interrelated, phases: spending time in the communities developing relationships and documenting cultures and traditions; and the development of a tangible product—a book—and webpages dedicated to the cultural heritage of the communities around the park.
Objectives
1.Document through photographs and interviews the events and daily life activities that best demonstrate the rich cultural heritage of these communities.
2.Involve schoolchildren in an oral history project interviewing their grandparents and community elders.
3.Create a tangible product, a book, that will create pride in the communities and offer an appealing glimpe of local life to people outside Tulcea County, and even outside of Romania, featuring:
a.Stories and photographs of important cultural events
b.Descriptions and photographs of traditional practices that make up the everyday life of villagers
c.Quotes from villagers
d.Pages about each village
e.Focus on arts and crafts, music, writing, food, clothing, and other creative pursuits.
f.Connections of people to the land around MMNP
g.Text in both Romanian and English
h.High quality and appealing design
i.A message from the MMNP Director
4.Publish and distribute the book to parks and tourist outlets around Romania.
5.Develop companion webpages linked from the main MMNP website that will contain more photos, more stories, and a database of transcribed oral history interviews.
The Macin Mountains Heritage Project: Project Plan
Problem Statement: In accordance with the Management Plan, Macin Mountains National Park Administration wants to increase public awareness and promote the development of tourism in the seven communities around the park, and would like to achieve this through the promotion of local cultures and traditions.
Project Mission Statement: The mission of this project is to promote the park and increase tourism to the Macin Mountains region by engaging the citizens of the seven communities in a Heritage Project designed to celebrate and promote local culture and tradition. Specifically, MMNP will document the cultural and traditional elements of people’s lives in the communities. From this documentation, we will create a book and new webpages that promote and teach about traditional lifeways of our communities. The book and webpages will be designed to be appealing to tourists and will serve as a model for other parks.
Project Scope: The scope of this project involves two distinct, yet interrelated, phases: spending time in the communities developing relationships and documenting cultures and traditions; and the development of a tangible product—a book—and webpages dedicated to the cultural heritage of the communities around the park.
Objectives
1.Document through photographs and interviews the events and daily life activities that best demonstrate the rich cultural heritage of these communities.
2.Involve schoolchildren in an oral history project interviewing their grandparents and community elders.
3.Create a tangible product, a book, that will create pride in the communities and offer an appealing glimpe of local life to people outside Tulcea County, and even outside of Romania, featuring:
a.Stories and photographs of important cultural events
b.Descriptions and photographs of traditional practices that make up the everyday life of villagers
c.Quotes from villagers
d.Pages about each village
e.Focus on arts and crafts, music, writing, food, clothing, and other creative pursuits.
f.Connections of people to the land around MMNP
g.Text in both Romanian and English
h.High quality and appealing design
i.A message from the MMNP Director
4.Publish and distribute the book to parks and tourist outlets around Romania.
5.Develop companion webpages linked from the main MMNP website that will contain more photos, more stories, and a database of transcribed oral history interviews.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Waiting Room
Romania is not a country; it's a waiting room. And a cold one. I am waiting for meetings to determine projects that I might undertake. This is progress from not even having meetings. And I'm waiting for the building's radiator heat to come on, which may happen tomorrow or the next day. We bundle up at work next to a space heater. I bake cookies at home and bless bless bless my down sleeping bag with the nalgene full of boiled water at my feet, longing for Tule and my woodstove. I'm waiting to someday understand what people say to me.
But today's bright spot was a short note from Jenn who is home from work with the flu (ugh!) who finally, because she is home sick, had a minute to send me an email. I've kind of been waiting to hear from her as well, one of my very busy and productive luminary friends. And what I want to say to you all, however far away in time or space you are, I will wait for you. I am living my adventure and you are living yours. The verb structure for "I look forward to" here literally translates to "I wait with excitement." When someone leaves our house we say "goodnight" and "I wait for you." So I wait for the return of sojourning friends, like planets wait to align again and bask in each other's glow. Astept cu nerabdare.
But today's bright spot was a short note from Jenn who is home from work with the flu (ugh!) who finally, because she is home sick, had a minute to send me an email. I've kind of been waiting to hear from her as well, one of my very busy and productive luminary friends. And what I want to say to you all, however far away in time or space you are, I will wait for you. I am living my adventure and you are living yours. The verb structure for "I look forward to" here literally translates to "I wait with excitement." When someone leaves our house we say "goodnight" and "I wait for you." So I wait for the return of sojourning friends, like planets wait to align again and bask in each other's glow. Astept cu nerabdare.
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