Stefan cel Mare statue Chisinau, Moldova
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
From goats to heated blankets... boyfriends in Moldova.
Explaining to the vast majority of Moldova men, women and children that I am 25, without children and unwed can be a difficult task.
In this country and culture where one of the most treasured (and expensive) moments for a family is the marriage of their child, the buying (or more often building) of a house and arrival of grandchildren on the scene. It is part of what keeps Moldovans happy. Part of what they live for are the celebrations in their lives. The fact that I willingly am rejecting celebrating those things in my life is extremely puzzling to them. It's not as though I am against marriage... if you love someone and wish to consummate that love under religious law that is fine. If you invite me I will even attend to help you celebrate the union between you and your new spouse. My personal beliefs aside, in order for me to answer the constant questions regarding my ring-less finger or empty baby-bearing hips is to make it humorous.
First my partner had baby goats born; two boys and two girls. She let me name them all "American names" Billy Boy, Brownie, Daisy and Cinnamon... which was quite an honor as Moldovans typically name the animals based on the day of the week they were born. Regardless, I started telling everyone in town that I had a boyfriend, his name was Billy, and he was goat. For a while the questions subsided about my state as a single woman as did the suggestions for me to marry every older woman's single son "about my age." I thought I was in the clear until we ate him for Easter. Then I had to explain that my boyfried was deceased but was also delicious.
My second and still current relationship is with "the road." It's hard to explain that rather than settling down I want to travel the world. See the Great Wall of China, cross the Bering Strait, eat sushi in Japan, dance with the tribes of Sub-Saharan Africa and go sailing in the Caribbean. I must tell a lot of people about this boyfriend because even the Priest in my town knows about him. He came to bless our house and when he was throwing the water all of my room and drawing the cross with oil on the wall he kept saying "This is for Emily and her road." Here is the deal, I haven't seen the whole world so how can I know where I would want to settle down? I also don't think I've met the love of my life yet and so how could I even think of settling for anything less? So my relationship with "the road" will probably be a marriage for life... which is fine but then came along this hot Turkish guy...
With winter coming my host mom and I set out to find a heated mattress pad for my bed. She was convinced we had to buy a Russian-made one but all we could find at the market was Chinese or Turkish brands. She decided I should buy the Turkish one. The first night I turned it on she came to get me for dinner and I told her I didn't want to leave my new boyfriend. As I was on my computer she said... "Oh can I see him are you skyping with him?" My response? "No of course not Zina... I'm sitting on him!!! This heated Turkish mattress pad is my new boyfriend. He's hot and sleeps with me all night." She and I giggled and then we went to tell my host dad who roared with laughter.
It is the little things that get you through living in a new culture. When the redundancy of questions start to get to you just turn them into a joke or ask the same question to them. It's important to share culture but it's also important to respect the cultural customs and beliefs of others. Sarcasm and humor are sometimes hard to communicate but when you do get through be ready to share a beautiful moment of laughter (the one universal communication medium for happiness). I know that my ramblings are only from one perspective, I am sure that the married couples and single men or married persons who left their spouses at home are all asked different and interesting questions but this is just about me and how I have chosen to deal with culture clash in my village. Now if you will excuse me there is a Turkish guy warming up in my bed...
In this country and culture where one of the most treasured (and expensive) moments for a family is the marriage of their child, the buying (or more often building) of a house and arrival of grandchildren on the scene. It is part of what keeps Moldovans happy. Part of what they live for are the celebrations in their lives. The fact that I willingly am rejecting celebrating those things in my life is extremely puzzling to them. It's not as though I am against marriage... if you love someone and wish to consummate that love under religious law that is fine. If you invite me I will even attend to help you celebrate the union between you and your new spouse. My personal beliefs aside, in order for me to answer the constant questions regarding my ring-less finger or empty baby-bearing hips is to make it humorous.
First my partner had baby goats born; two boys and two girls. She let me name them all "American names" Billy Boy, Brownie, Daisy and Cinnamon... which was quite an honor as Moldovans typically name the animals based on the day of the week they were born. Regardless, I started telling everyone in town that I had a boyfriend, his name was Billy, and he was goat. For a while the questions subsided about my state as a single woman as did the suggestions for me to marry every older woman's single son "about my age." I thought I was in the clear until we ate him for Easter. Then I had to explain that my boyfried was deceased but was also delicious.
My second and still current relationship is with "the road." It's hard to explain that rather than settling down I want to travel the world. See the Great Wall of China, cross the Bering Strait, eat sushi in Japan, dance with the tribes of Sub-Saharan Africa and go sailing in the Caribbean. I must tell a lot of people about this boyfriend because even the Priest in my town knows about him. He came to bless our house and when he was throwing the water all of my room and drawing the cross with oil on the wall he kept saying "This is for Emily and her road." Here is the deal, I haven't seen the whole world so how can I know where I would want to settle down? I also don't think I've met the love of my life yet and so how could I even think of settling for anything less? So my relationship with "the road" will probably be a marriage for life... which is fine but then came along this hot Turkish guy...
With winter coming my host mom and I set out to find a heated mattress pad for my bed. She was convinced we had to buy a Russian-made one but all we could find at the market was Chinese or Turkish brands. She decided I should buy the Turkish one. The first night I turned it on she came to get me for dinner and I told her I didn't want to leave my new boyfriend. As I was on my computer she said... "Oh can I see him are you skyping with him?" My response? "No of course not Zina... I'm sitting on him!!! This heated Turkish mattress pad is my new boyfriend. He's hot and sleeps with me all night." She and I giggled and then we went to tell my host dad who roared with laughter.
It is the little things that get you through living in a new culture. When the redundancy of questions start to get to you just turn them into a joke or ask the same question to them. It's important to share culture but it's also important to respect the cultural customs and beliefs of others. Sarcasm and humor are sometimes hard to communicate but when you do get through be ready to share a beautiful moment of laughter (the one universal communication medium for happiness). I know that my ramblings are only from one perspective, I am sure that the married couples and single men or married persons who left their spouses at home are all asked different and interesting questions but this is just about me and how I have chosen to deal with culture clash in my village. Now if you will excuse me there is a Turkish guy warming up in my bed...
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
A jog down memory lane...
So I've been seeing a lot of interesting things on my runs lately through the hills and valleys around my house. The problem is I don't run with my camera and so the scenes that pass me by and visions that take my breath away, I can not capture for all of you. Let me paint you a picture from yesterday's run.
I ran to the lake that is about 3Km away from my house and then ran around the lake to take in all the sights, smells and greet the fishermen hanging out on the shore... waiting for the days catch. As I rounded the end of the lake and made it to the other side where the little villas are all stacked on top of each other (like a Moldovan gated community)... the geese run from my path, roosters perk there heads and crow at me, men stare and skip a puff of their cigarette - shocked by my spandex shorts and I smile and wave (stupid American). Then I see this red car slowly making it's way down the road. It stops abruptly and I wonder if its overflowing with teenage boys up to no good or an old man who missed the clutch. Then as the car and I approach each other the abrupt halt is clear. In the drivers seat is a young girl wearing bright shorts and a tank top with curly blond hair and blue eyes. With a look of worry in her eyes. In the passenger seat is an older man with white hair, wrinkled and worn tan skin wearing a linen short sleeve dress shirt. He is thin except for his large belly that juts out in front like a pregnant lady. I smile and wave. And as they pass by me I stop and turn to watch the old man continue lecturing the young girl and helping her shift the lada into a lower gear. Surround the dirt road are fields of sunflowers, corn and grass, willow trees, a lake in the distance and few country homes. As I watch them slowly drive off into the distance the whole scene changes. It's no longer an old Russian red lada but an orange Volkswagen beetle. The young girl is me 15 years ago. We aren't on a road but a path along the hedgerow in an alfalfa field that my dad has just cut with the mower. The man to my right is my grandfather, Norman and he's not lecturing but rather watching me try to figure it all out myself. He then gives me pointers when I look up at him with earnest blue eyes and my pin straight bobbed blond hair. He's telling me how different is to drive a car than a tractor and how much more efficient a standard or stick shift car is than automatic. Once we reach the path in the woods we park and walk through the woods. He points to a jack-in-the-pulpit and tells me these flowers are endangered and shows me the protective shield he made for the frosts. We then walk further into the woods where he has planted blue spruce and evergreen trees of every sort. He says one day we can use them for our Christmas tree. Then I snap out of my trip down memory lane. Watch the red lada drive down towards the lake and I turn and continue my jog up and out of the valley back to my village.
I miss my grampa. He was truly an altruistic man. I just wish I could converse with him now. About the world today... my life... my thoughts on various topics. He continues to influence my decisions and ideas so in a way I guess he lives on through me.
I ran to the lake that is about 3Km away from my house and then ran around the lake to take in all the sights, smells and greet the fishermen hanging out on the shore... waiting for the days catch. As I rounded the end of the lake and made it to the other side where the little villas are all stacked on top of each other (like a Moldovan gated community)... the geese run from my path, roosters perk there heads and crow at me, men stare and skip a puff of their cigarette - shocked by my spandex shorts and I smile and wave (stupid American). Then I see this red car slowly making it's way down the road. It stops abruptly and I wonder if its overflowing with teenage boys up to no good or an old man who missed the clutch. Then as the car and I approach each other the abrupt halt is clear. In the drivers seat is a young girl wearing bright shorts and a tank top with curly blond hair and blue eyes. With a look of worry in her eyes. In the passenger seat is an older man with white hair, wrinkled and worn tan skin wearing a linen short sleeve dress shirt. He is thin except for his large belly that juts out in front like a pregnant lady. I smile and wave. And as they pass by me I stop and turn to watch the old man continue lecturing the young girl and helping her shift the lada into a lower gear. Surround the dirt road are fields of sunflowers, corn and grass, willow trees, a lake in the distance and few country homes. As I watch them slowly drive off into the distance the whole scene changes. It's no longer an old Russian red lada but an orange Volkswagen beetle. The young girl is me 15 years ago. We aren't on a road but a path along the hedgerow in an alfalfa field that my dad has just cut with the mower. The man to my right is my grandfather, Norman and he's not lecturing but rather watching me try to figure it all out myself. He then gives me pointers when I look up at him with earnest blue eyes and my pin straight bobbed blond hair. He's telling me how different is to drive a car than a tractor and how much more efficient a standard or stick shift car is than automatic. Once we reach the path in the woods we park and walk through the woods. He points to a jack-in-the-pulpit and tells me these flowers are endangered and shows me the protective shield he made for the frosts. We then walk further into the woods where he has planted blue spruce and evergreen trees of every sort. He says one day we can use them for our Christmas tree. Then I snap out of my trip down memory lane. Watch the red lada drive down towards the lake and I turn and continue my jog up and out of the valley back to my village.
I miss my grampa. He was truly an altruistic man. I just wish I could converse with him now. About the world today... my life... my thoughts on various topics. He continues to influence my decisions and ideas so in a way I guess he lives on through me.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Wine Tasting in Moldova
Check out my friend Katie's blog post on our wine tasting in Chisinau the other night.
http://katiehiebert.tumblr.com/post/8552510215/wine-tasting-in-moldova
http://katiehiebert.tumblr.com/post/8552510215/wine-tasting-in-moldova
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Folkloric Competition Orhei: Bastina
This is the video of the local Folkloric group competition in the municipality center of Orhei. This video is of the Folkloric Group, Bastina from my village and their performance at the competition. The word Bastina (Bah-shtee-nah) means motherland or homeland.
Completing the Third Goal
In 1961, President John F. Kennedy established the Peace Corps to promote world peace and friendship.
The Peace Corps' mission has three simple goals:
The Peace Corps' mission has three simple goals:
- Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.
- Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
- Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans
Completing the Third Goal
View more presentations from Emily Getty.
Goat Herdin' 2 (USA version)
Same video as Goat Herdin' 1 with better background music.
After a weekend filled with gorging ourselves at Easter celebrations, Emily and I decided to take a walk around her village of Peresecina for some exercise. We eventually found ourselves walking along a path discussing very important matters, such as the name of the strange bugs that kept buzzing around our heads, when we stumbled upon a herd of goats and their very enthusiastic shepherd. The shepherd was in a very festive mood and happy to meet the two of us and our camera. It was a few hours before the goats needed to be taken home but the shepherd allowed us to help him bring in the herd of goats immediately. Our job was to walk behind the herd and say "nya" at the goats so that they would continue to walk. Along the way we picked up some more help from some of the village boys and girls who were very curious as to why we were helping with the goats. We arrived at the "pick up zone," where the villagers take their respective goats from the herd and lead them home. Although we were about an hour early and anticipating a goat stampede, we were surprised to find the villagers gathering their goats with minimal chaos. Once the goats were all safely on their way home and we promised the shepherd repeatedly to bring him the photographs of our hard work, it was time for us, the newest shepherds of Peresecina, to put to rest our amateur herding staffs, wash the goat manure from our feet and come to the realization that we are just not cut out for this line of work.
After a weekend filled with gorging ourselves at Easter celebrations, Emily and I decided to take a walk around her village of Peresecina for some exercise. We eventually found ourselves walking along a path discussing very important matters, such as the name of the strange bugs that kept buzzing around our heads, when we stumbled upon a herd of goats and their very enthusiastic shepherd. The shepherd was in a very festive mood and happy to meet the two of us and our camera. It was a few hours before the goats needed to be taken home but the shepherd allowed us to help him bring in the herd of goats immediately. Our job was to walk behind the herd and say "nya" at the goats so that they would continue to walk. Along the way we picked up some more help from some of the village boys and girls who were very curious as to why we were helping with the goats. We arrived at the "pick up zone," where the villagers take their respective goats from the herd and lead them home. Although we were about an hour early and anticipating a goat stampede, we were surprised to find the villagers gathering their goats with minimal chaos. Once the goats were all safely on their way home and we promised the shepherd repeatedly to bring him the photographs of our hard work, it was time for us, the newest shepherds of Peresecina, to put to rest our amateur herding staffs, wash the goat manure from our feet and come to the realization that we are just not cut out for this line of work.
What my host family means to me...
Host families are a big part of our lives here in Peace Corps Moldova. Fun fact: not every peace corps country utilizes host families and I think this is actually a huge positive part of being a volunteer here in Moldova. My host family is more than a family. My host family members are my friends, my link to the community, my sounding board, my support and everything in between. Having a great host family can make your service in Peace Corps an amazing experience. That add depth, laughter, and love to your time living in another country.
This slide show was made for the families that will be hosting the new volunteers that arrived in June. This was playing in the background while we talked about the importance of a host family as a key tool for community integration, cultural education, and friendship in a strange new country.
This slide show was made for the families that will be hosting the new volunteers that arrived in June. This was playing in the background while we talked about the importance of a host family as a key tool for community integration, cultural education, and friendship in a strange new country.
Host family
View more presentations from Emily Getty.
Team Xtreme in Rezina, Moldova!
While visiting my friend in Rezina, Moldova we were invited to attend a seminar/performance at one of the local high schools. This was a REALLY great organization that works throughout the world to spread the positive messages of love, tolerance, patience and kindness through Xtreme sports. It really had an impact on the young men in the audience that is for sure!!! The man who organized the competition asked me to translate for them but instead we asked one of my friend's best students to translate to give her an amazing opportunity to show off her English and Romanian/Russian skills in front of all her friends. Afterward she said it was "such a rush!"
Team Xtreme is part of Youth with a Mission.
Youth With A Mission (YWAM) is an international movement of Christians from many denominations dedicated to presenting Jesus personally to this generation, to mobilizing as many as possible to help in this task, and to the training and equipping of believers for their part in fulfilling the Great Commission.
As citizens of God’s kingdom, we are called to love, worship, and obey our Lord, to love and serve His Body, the Church, and to present the whole gospel for the whole person throughout the whole world.
We of Youth With A Mission believe that the Bible is God’s inspired and authoritative word, revealing that Jesus Christ is God’s son; that people are created in God’s image;
that He created us to have eternal life through Jesus Christ;
that although all people have sinned and come short of God’s glory, God has made salvation possible through the death on the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ;
that repentance, faith, love and obedience are fitting responses to God’s initiative of grace towards us;
that God desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth;
and that the Holy Spirit’s power is demonstrated in and through us for the accomplishment of Christ’s last commandment, “…Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation”
http://www.teamxtremeintl.com
Team Xtreme is part of Youth with a Mission.
Youth With A Mission (YWAM) is an international movement of Christians from many denominations dedicated to presenting Jesus personally to this generation, to mobilizing as many as possible to help in this task, and to the training and equipping of believers for their part in fulfilling the Great Commission.
As citizens of God’s kingdom, we are called to love, worship, and obey our Lord, to love and serve His Body, the Church, and to present the whole gospel for the whole person throughout the whole world.
We of Youth With A Mission believe that the Bible is God’s inspired and authoritative word, revealing that Jesus Christ is God’s son; that people are created in God’s image;
that He created us to have eternal life through Jesus Christ;
that although all people have sinned and come short of God’s glory, God has made salvation possible through the death on the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ;
that repentance, faith, love and obedience are fitting responses to God’s initiative of grace towards us;
that God desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth;
and that the Holy Spirit’s power is demonstrated in and through us for the accomplishment of Christ’s last commandment, “…Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation”
http://www.teamxtremeintl.com
March 2011 Folkloric Competition Orhei "The Competition"
Watch my awesome new video on youtube about the Folkloric Music in Moldova! Also, you should subscribe to my youtube channel: egetty05
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