The Birthday Party

Last Saturday night was Grandpa's 79th birthday, Grandpa being Gina's father Nicolai (Gina being my host). I found a simple card that the lady at the store said would be appropriate for a man. Around 8:30 in the evening the family gathered at the table in the garden/yard. Grandpa, Grandma, Gina, daughter Vera, and daughter Dana and her husband and the little girl AnnaMaria. We ate an obscene amount of delicious pastries, cookies, eclairs, and cake. Then watermelon. We have delicious watermelon here and the expectation is to eat large quantities of it (why should watermelon be any different?) I should note that the party was puncuated frequently by AnnaMaria's temper tantrums. She's a bit spoiled. After stuffing ourselves and singing to Grandpa, I joined Gina and AnnaMaria in some children's dances. Everyone laughed at me in that warm way that we PCV's live for as a sign of success. It was a great evening, mosquitos and all.

Alas, today Grandma is in the hospital in Bucuresti and I really can't ascertain how bad it is.

Postscript on the Socks

OK, another funny thing about the socks is that there is not a word for foot in Romanian. They have a word for leg which is also used for foot. Huh? And there is a word for pedicure, so they could call it a ped. And fotbal is popular here, so they could call it a fot. So maybe that's why they don't know what to do with the socks...

Viata Mea Printre Fluturile

Or, my life among the butterflies.

I returned yesterday from my visit to my assigned site in Tulcea. I’m glad I have two years there because it may take me that long to describe everything. But I begin.

The main office of Macin Mountains National Park is in Tulcea and some of the staff is located there: the Director (Viorel), which we would call the Superintendent, the Administrative person (Vali) , the IT specialist (Alina), and the PR person (Adela), which we would call the Interpretive Ranger. And now me, working with Viorel and Adela, mostly. In Macin, closer to the park, are the field staff: the Chief Ranger (Cristian), four rangers, and a biologist (Bogdan).

I had two whole days (in addition to my travel days) on my visit, and my first day was a field trip to hike up one of the peaks in the park. In time I will talk more about the park’s significance, but in short this mountain chain is a unique island of steppe habitat with stunning biodiversity, combining elements of European, Mediterranean, and Asian origin. And the mountains are some of the oldest in Europe. Our literature claims that we have 900 butterfly species, but Bogdan says it’s more like 1400. I saw maybe 10 different kinds on our hike, so only 1390 to go. Members of one species were playing around in the updraft at the top of our rocky peak—from which we could see the Danube to the west and the shining cities of Braila and Galati. Later when we returned to Tulcea, the city thermometer read 37. So our hike was similar in climate to a nice hike in the Inyos on the eastern side of the Owens Valley this time of year.

The second day was spent learning more about park operations and looking unsuccessfully for an apartment. Happy to report that our office is one of the few places I’ve found in this country that has air conditioning. Yahoo!!! I know this: I will not be bored. I suspect that every skill I have ever acquired will be put to use—from park management, civic engagement, and environmental education to how to live as a poor person in an expensive city to dodging rattlesnakes on the trail and any biological Latin I have ever absorbed. And mostly, of course, teamwork, patience, and compassion. I will need it all—and any more I can develop. Oh yes, and in Romanian. Two of my colleagues speak English so that will help the transition, but I must work very hard on this.

And why do I do this? I’m sure the list of reasons will grow very long. But for now it is enough to say that I work for the butterflies.

Future ruminations: Turkish toilets, white pelicans, goat jams, horse carts, the Danube Delta museum, the cookie factory, orange fanta, and steppic botany.
You may be happy to know that Adela is obsessed with taking pictures and can help fill in my gaps when I forget to. And Bogdan, our techno-biologist.<
Tulcea, my beautiful city on the DanubeThe village of Greci from up on the mountain. The thin ribbon of green beyond town is the Danube. Walnut trees line the roads in this area, also some cottonwoods—not sure the latin names, or if they are the same ones from home, but they are very familiar.Field after field of sunflowers for oil, colorful beehives set among them—must find honey.
Yet another beautiful biserica along the way

Tomorrow's Adventure

First of all, a big thanks for postcards to Becky, Carrie & family, Chris & family, and an old postcard from Kristin, Brian, and Elvis which arrived recently via Madagascar and Washington, DC. And thanks to Maggie and Alisa for origami paper so I can do a crane-folding lesson with volunteers.

Tomorrow, instead of having a weekend off as normal, we meet our work counterparts for the next two years. They are all coming to Targoviste for a conference with us on Saturday and Sunday. We will conduct activities meant to ease our transition into our sites and our jobs. Then on Monday we will go to our sites for a few days with our counterparts. We will return the end of next week for a debrief and then finally a weekend. It will all be exhausting, but of course this is what we've been waiting for. I expect to have a good look at the city of Tulcea, as well as seeing my park and meeting some of my coworkers. Also it will be my first experience riding a Romanian train. I promise to take pictures of all.

Meanwhile we are having a bit of a heatwave complete with humidity. We sweat profusely, almost as much as in Hawaii. Not quite. But nor do we have a beach to go to, and there is no snorkeling around here. There is a really great chocolate bar at the store with chili pepper and sea salt which sort of simulates (and hits the same button as) the sea salt carmel truffle at the Whole Foods on the way home from the beach on Oahu.

One other note about PC life in Romania, lest you think I've got it too soft: last week our Country Director, Ken (whom we all really like and respect), told us that of all the countries he's worked in with the PC--including Mongolia, Romania is the hardest to get things done in. So despite flush toilets, stores selling chocolate bars, an extensive train system, and faster mail delivery than Independence, CA, the attitudes here--the legacy largely of communism--are severely devoid of hope, of belief in change, and of community spirit. Civic engagement appears to be dead. That is why we are here. So it's really true that my number one job is to be happy. That sea salt chocolate will be an important crutch!

A Day at the Monestery

Yesterday we had a small adventure, about seven of us. We went up the hill outside of town to visit a historic monestery of the Orthodox Church. Churches here are called biserica (beesayreecah). We got a ride up from MaryAnn's gazda who is a Baptist minister and had the church van. Then we toured the grounds and the beautiful church itself which was painted floor to ceiling in paintings of biblical stories and of the saints. Outside were beautiful gardens and a funny bell hanging from a tree that looked an awful lot like a car part, like last year after I changed the brake drums on the Jeep and turned one into a petunia planter.

Today it rains and rains. Este ploua, a fost ploua, o sa fie ploua. It rains, it rained, it will rain. Asa. Fortunately our trip yesterday was rain-free until we got back into town. And in the spirit of interdenominational fun, we spent part of the afternoon with Sister Celestine, the nun at the Catholic church here. Veronica and David (pictured below) attend the C.C. here and needed to stop by to see what time mass was this weekend. So we had a nice chat with the sisters, Celestine being British by birth. Turns out she loves puffins as much as I love white pelicans (which are plentiful in the Delta) and we all had a nice chat.

I was handed a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel the other day and have been terribly lax on both language and site investigation. Asa. Coping mechanism, I suppose. But in a week I get to go visit my site for a few days with my work counterpart there. All will be revealed. And not much to do on a rainy afternoon and evening now but to study and get ready for a new week.

A short note about V & D. They are from North Carolina. David is teaching English and Veronica is working with special needs children and has an extensive background in therapy, often using music and art.

My New Home

Here it is, my site assignment (trying to contain my over-the-moon-ness): Tulcea. Tulcea is a moderately large city on the, drum roll, Danube Delta. I will be working at Parcul National Muntii Macinului. That's the Macin Mountains National Park. It's a bit west of the delta and the headquarters is in Tulcea. Here are a few reasons why I'm so happy: the Danube Delta is the largest and best preserved delta ecosystem in Europe (although it's quite polluted); my park has incredible biodiversity (900 species of butterflies); it's a big birdway, with a concentration of really cool raptors; our mountains are the oldest in Romania (or maybe even Europe--which of course means they're pretty small); and there's a lot of community outreach that needs to be done over pollution/biodiversity issues. Plus I'll get to explore the delta, my Mom will get to see the Black Sea when she comes to visit, and I'll probably have lots of visitors who want to see the sea.

In about two weeks we all get to visit our sites and meet our counterparts. We will have both a work counterpart and a community buddy to help us get around our first few months. I'm having fantasies of kayaking and hiking and generally never leaving my site. It will be very hot at my site, but I think it is rather a dry area and not completely humid. I hope, but it's not bad either way.

I will post more once I've had a chance to translate all of my site information. Cheers.

The Sock Vortex

Southern Romania, including Targoviste, has a bit of a trash problem. So last week when we were having a session in environmental education, our instructor brought a number of trash items and asked us to rate them as to which decomposed fastest/slowest. One of the items was a sock. Turns out randomly disposed socks litter the Targoviste landscape. Funnily, the kids rated the sock as an item that decomposed very slowly. Everyone, it seems, believes that socks are everywhere and long lasting. I can't prove them wrong. Where do the socks come from, I wonder? Clotheslines? But no one here wears socks, or at least not this time of year. Then it became obvious that there must be a great underground network of pneumatic tubes that quietly ferry socks from American driers to the streets of Romania. Fear not, America. Your missing socks are slowly decomposing down at the end of my street.

Homesick

We have now had two different class sessions talking about what we do and eat for 4th of July. The reason for this was yesterday’s trainee/gazda picnic that we planned as a day to share American culture with our host families. It poured rain on our picnic, but that is another story. Meanwhile back to class, sharing with everyone that I used to live in a town called Independence. You really don’t want to try to out-4th-of-July a town called Independence—the pancake breakfast, the 5k/10k run/walk, the art fair in the park, the dance in the park the night before with Sandy and Clayton and Victor playing Brown-eyed Girl, the parade complete with military overflight, the pie social, the barbecue with beans by Rose (the Bean Queen of Independence), and finally the fireworks. Of course other towns have their fun, but you must know by now how much I love the people of Manzanar and of Independence, and with the 4th of July comes the anniversaries of our fire and our flood. And add to that my belief that I will not live their again, and you see where I’m going with this. Of course I like Romania and I will make new traditions here and will be terribly sad when I go. That’s not the point. My Old California Home. Stunning, da? Thanks, Brian-the-Ranger.

So Friday, during a break from class, I was sitting a moment alone in my classroom when Amanda walked by. She’s the wonderful young woman who was bathed. She stopped and told me how much she enjoyed hearing me sing the day before (we have a loaner guitar in the office, to my great relief). She paid me a very nice complement that went beyond the singing. I should have had a dozen ways to thank her and return the complement, deservedly. But instead I just wanted to cry so I mumbled a lame thank you. I will explain to her tomorrow. Of course, I’m well trained so I waited until about 3 in the morning to actually cry.

Don’t worry, I really don’t want to be anywhere else. Well, OK, I can’t wait for training to be over and get to my site (I have the best gazda I could have, but alas I’m never really alone-this training time is very intense). But as great as change can be, we all know it’s hard. And every now and then the weight of all the hundreds of lives we have chosen to not lead or to leave behind gets heavy. It’s the price, and I asked to pay it. Asa.

On the up-side, upcoming this week—site announcements. We find out Wednesday where our Romanian destinies lie. I know that I’m going to a National Park. Isn’t that amazing that I joined the Peace Corps and I really do get to work at a National Park in a foreign country? THAT is why I waited all these years to do this. I think I know where it is because Daniella, who will be my boss, gave me some clues. There is a significant water resource whose biodiversity is threatened by agricultural pollutants, there are some mountains in the park, the climate is warmer there than here (ugh—OK, I can take it better than most, I guess), and there is great cultural diversity although not the typical Romanian cultural diversity of Hungarians and Gypsies. I think my work will concentrate mostly on outreach regarding this biodiversity issue. I’m thrilled to pieces because one of my passions is biodiversity. And I have lots of experience and training in outreach. So it’s a logical fit. Win-win, as they say—wherever it turns out to be. I’ll post again mid-week so you can all get out your maps and start planning your visits. While I had a fantasy of working in the Danube Delta, that’s not near any mountains so I’m guessing it’s not there. Asa.

Asa should have a squiggle on the s, and is pronounced ah-shah. It means “so” but is also used frequently as a punctuation. There it is, so it goes, well… Asa.

See, if I sit here typing long enough I come back around to not being homesick. But it was bound to happen, and will happen again. Fortunately, there are a few people like Amanda, and David and Veronica and Maryann (my Sunday homework/lunch-mates) who are pure gold and make me feel like I’m not alone in this. There are more, and I should do a post about some of the remarkable individuals sharing this journey with me. Although the Owens Valley is incredibly beautiful, I miss it so dearly because of the very special people there. I wouldn’t mind a postcard (hint…)