Language issues continue to diminish, almost to the point of being a non-issue. Since our return from the States in June, I’ve found myself often going through an entire work day, working with my colleagues, and not speaking a single word of English until I get home in the evening. A year ago, I couldn’t imagine it was possible. Now, rather than a major chore, communicating in Romanian is getting to be fun. Which is certainly good timing, because I am in the midst of a busy summer-fall of projects.

We’re finally beginning to implement the Internet access project I’ve talked about for the past year. I’ve been visiting all our association members (small local newspapers) around the country, and installing the appropriate hardware/software, as well as doing some training. One week alone, I covered 1,500 kilometers, which is no small feat in Moldova. Also, since December, we’ve been developing an advertising strategy. Using ad agents who work out of the API office in Chisinau, we sell advertising on behalf of the entire association of independent newspapers, to businesses in Chisinau who want to reach people in the countryside. This is where API newspapers have greater market penetration than any single publication in Moldova. At the same time, we’re beginning to receive a series of experts from America in the field of media, to work with our newspapers in areas like layout, design, advertising, and journalism ethics. I accompany these ‘experts in residence’ when they visit API members, providing background and support when necessary.

Work is much better than it has been, since I changed my focus from working with my counterpart, to working directly on projects involving the members of my association. But this is a mixed bag. We’re supposed to be working toward sustainable, organizational development. And it is difficult to see sometimes how my efforts will lead to something sustainable, at least for API organizationally. I have helped strengthen the member organizations individually, but the association itself has not evolved to my satisfaction. And while this is disappointing, I’ve learned not to feel overly responsible. This is a theme Tamar and I have returned to often lately. We can only do so much, and it is ultimately up to the people involved to make something happen. Nevertheless, it is very difficult to be involved in things you have so little control over. I suppose this is a fair example of a cross cultural experience, given that Americans are accustomed to having a great deal of control, and Moldovans exactly the opposite. They don’t understand our frustrations when deadlines approach, and much remains to be done, particularly things which could have or should have been done already. Adapting in this regard could make working again in America an interesting adjustment.

Summer is also the time for camps in Moldova, so many of our volunteer colleagues have organized English summer camps. Both Tamar and I have been invited to speak to the kids in our areas of "expertise;" mine naturally being the role of independent media in a democratic society, and Tamar’s being the state of the NBA player’s union. Or maybe it was something to do with the environment?

In June, we said farewell to our closest volunteer friends from the group ahead of us, and it was a bittersweet moment. We miss them very much, but it signified the passing of the proverbial torch. Now we’re the savvy veterans with less than a year remaining. It was an emotional moment. Only as they entered the Moldovan airport for the last time, did the full realization dawn that they were leaving behind their radically different lives of the past two years, forever. Just waving and cheering them on as they made their way through customs for the final time, cheering from the landing overhead, it felt like in a small way we were honoring their achievement. And make no mistake about it. As much as we enjoy our lives these days, living here for two years, let alone accomplishing something meaningful, is a major achievement. We don’t talk about it much, but many volunteers do give up and go home. However, there is a new group of volunteers with us now to bolster our ranks. And we are already developing great new friends. One thing about Peace Corps, it seems to attract quality people.

Before I forget completely, I want to slip in a quick note about our recent trip back to Harrisburg in June. We saw so many friends and family, it felt like we saw everyone we ever met. But I know there are still many of you who we couldn’t see in such a short visit. Look at it this way, it will be even more exciting when we do reunite eventually. Anyway, about the visit, the biggest and best part of it was Sol and Katy’s wedding. It was a huge, and wonderful event. We were grateful to be there, and to have the opportunity to see so many of you there.

Ok, so getting back to the Moldovan thing, it continues to be a series of hills and valleys. While we don’t have so many overwhelming, exasperating experiences anymore, the excitement of new experiences is also fleeting. And the comfort of familiarity is beginning to morph into familiarity with the hopelessness of the situation here. Our parents sent us an article from the Economist, which was interesting in a couple respects. It very succinctly captured the dire economic situation here, as well as the insignificance of the Moldovan struggle on the world stage. Our motivation, which has always been in great supply, sputters at times when repeatedly confronted with the "why bother" experiences. They don’t ask so much anymore, but now I truly understand why Moldovans couldn’t understand why we would want to work here, let alone without pay. It just took a while for it to sink in. We’ve come to appreciate how our expectations in life are so completely different as Americans. When you grow up in America you are encouraged throughout your life to be anything you want, and to expect much. It’s exactly the opposite in this and many other parts of the world, and this is a very difficult gap to bridge. America is not just another country, it is another world.

Our world focus has changed, from America in the center, to America over somewhere to the side. Naturally, the news of the world has a different focus than the news in America, and we feel like we’re in the center of it here. We enjoy a much more balanced view of the world community as a result. The situation in the Balkans had special meaning to us, living in a former Soviet culture. People here are much more sympathetic to the rights of a sovereign state, and less so to the concept of crimes against humanity which transcend these sovereign boundaries. America is often seen by the rest of the world as a self serving bully. And while we understood this intellectually before we ever left the States, we never appreciated how completely dominant America is throughout the world; economically, militarily, and culturally. It borders on the ridiculous, how powerful America is. I doubt most Americans understand the impact of their government’s foreign policies on people around the world. When people here ask us what Americans think of one issue or another, our answer is often "they probably don’t." This seems incredible to people who see America as this omnipotent force in their world.

Switching gears, one of the things which consistently drives us crazy here is the pervasiveness of the Russian culture, an infuriating aspect of the Soviet hangover. We are constantly confronted with people who speak only Russian, and not the national language of Moldova, which I hope you know by now is Romanian. Then, when they can communicate with us (in English), they talk as though they still live in Russia. And worst it’s not just them. We met an American living in Chisinau, who speaks Russian. When he talked about how much he likes Moldova, its culture, its language, its food, everything he mentioned was Russian. He doesn’t have a clue about the difference between Moldovan and Russian culture. And because the Russians and Russian speakers were the ones in positions of power during Soviet times, they were ideally positioned to inherit the new positions of power during the independence movement. This has led to an accumulation of wealth and power among the Russian speaking community, along with the traditional corruption. And now just about every successful, upscale business or restaurant is owned, operated, and enjoyed, by Russian speakers, not the native Romanian-speaking Moldovans. It is something deeply aggravating to us, but difficult to convey.

As we grow weary of our surroundings, we focus more on our personal experiences, taking advantage of our free time to explore this part of the world. We spent a couple days in Bucharesti Romania for the eclipse, which, by the way, was fantastic. But the train ride there was absolute hell. It had been very hot here, 40+ degrees Celcius, which is around 105 F. Of course, there is no air conditioning, but on top of that, most of the windows don’t open. We, along with the other passengers, would crowd around the few windows that did open, desperate for a whisper of fresh air. But mostly we just sat and sweated profusely. I’ve sat in saunas cooler than this train, and we had 12 hours of it. This made us think hard about where we’ll travel after COS (close of service) next July. We don’t intend to travel like that on a regular basis. Out next trip is coming up soon. We are going to meet our buddy Meg in Greece at the end of September, a couple weeks from now. Can’t wait!

Anybody else planning for the end of the world? In Moldova, concerns over Y2K are taken very seriously by the foreigners living here, while Moldovans are not concerned in the least. They say, "What can anyone or anything take away from us now, that we haven’t learned to do without already?" But we silly foreigners still worry about losing power, heat, water, and food supplies. Moldova depends on Ukraine and Romania for 90 percent of its energy. And nobody believes these countries will be able to sustain their current levels of output when 2000 rolls around, let alone to debtors like Moldova. Out of curiosity, I joined the Peace Corps Y2K committee, which was tasked with examining the situation, and developing contingency plans for Peace Corps volunteers and staff. Contingency planning exposes all new levels of dysfunction and futility here, and is really a shot in the dark since there are so many variables. Will the airport function? Will the phones work? Will there be fuel? Heat? Power? Water? Nobody knows. And this is one of the exasperating things about this Re-developing country. There is this façade of industrialization which fools you into thinking things will work the way you expect them to. When in reality, the industrial infrastructure is almost literally crumbling apart, and nobody knows what to expect day to day.

The Moldovan government finally got around to a Y2K report of its own, (in typically Moldovan planning style, three months before Y2K), the point of which boiled down to asking for even more money from the foreign aid community. But in a departure from the norm, the committee representing the foreign aid community (Soros, USIS, Eurasia, World Bank, etc.) decided it will not give the Moldovan government what it wants, because they simply don’t believe the government could do what it proposes to do with the money in the time remaining, even if it truly intended to (which is also in question). This puts a smile on our faces, because we see such constant abuse, manipulation, and corruption with regard to foreign aid. The international donor community (dominated by America) cannot continue to throw money around, and expect that this alone will solve problems. We’re here to tell you it doesn’t. But I digress.

Living on the eighth floor of a large apartment building, ours is potentially the worst situation for Y2K related problems. We have centralized heating, water, and power. And unlike most homes, which have gas stoves, ours is electric. When our heat is not on, we depend on electricity to power space heaters. So without electricity, we have no heat and no way to cook food. Villagers will actually be better off in every respect. They have sobas (wood furnaces), gas stoves and tanks, preserved food, and livestock. They live without power most of the time already, and they get all their water from wells. There are no wells in our neighborhood, so we will be storing a lot of water, both distilled and plain, in case we lose water. And we’re already well on our way to stockpiling enough food staples to survive a few weeks of food shortages. Having said that, we don’t really expect much to happen. It’s just wait and see, but fortunately from more pleasant surroundings.

We just found out about the Y2K leave policy, which will allow us out of the country between the 27th of December, and 10th of January. At this point it looks as if we’ll spend New Years Eve in Madrid, and the rest of the time in southern Spain, and Portugal. We’ve always wanted to see Lisbon. And this appears to be our best chance, since we seem to be headed east after COS (close of service). So our in-service travel plans are fairly fixed now. We’ll visit Greece at the end of September, Transylvania, Romania for Halloween, Spain and Portugal over New Year's, and maybe somewhere else in the spring.

On the health front, we are both doing well. We run a couple times a week, and play ultimate frisbee every weekend. So we’re keeping fit. And we have now survived an apendectomy, dysentery, food poisoning, sinus infections, sprained ligaments, bruised ribs, as well as multiple minor bumps and bruises. The most recent health related incident occurred last week, when I received second degree burns over a large area of my left leg. I was waiting in line at a cantina where we eat lunch sometimes, when a woman carrying a large pot of boiling hot borsht, stumbled and spilled most of it on my bare leg. The women who run the kitchen hustled me back into the kitchen, where they immediately began slopping raw egg all over my leg. I was so amused by their fussing, not to mention their medicine, that I almost enjoyed myself. But that changed as soon as the egg dried, and the pain of the burns began to surface, mixed with the pain of leg hair trapped beneath a thick crust of dried egg. No worries though. I escaped from the clutches of the Moldovan kitchen crew/burn unit, and jogged down to Peace Corps, crusty egg leg and all. As usual, they fixed me up with some western medicine, albeit after a rather labor-intensive effort to remove the dried egg crust from my leg. Now I can add burn victim survivor to my list of accomplishments. Oh, and Tamar just added a new one to the list. She nearly knocked herself unconscious when, while dancing (head banger style), she slammed her head into somebody’s shoulder. She is still sporting a beautiful shiner as a result.

That about does it from our end. We continue to be sustained in large part by your correspondence and generous care packages. We are the envy of the volunteer community in this respect. Please understand that although correspondence from our end is sparse, we do appreciate your continued support more than you could know, and we do think often of everyone back home. We’ve discovered that unless we send them back with people travelling to the U.S., our letters to you often don’t arrive at all. So we’ve mostly given up on sending traditional letters in favor of email. Hope you don’t mind. We still encourage anyone to drop us any kind of mail whenever the mood strikes. Don’t be shy. We love hearing what everyone’s up to. Makes things seem a little more normal. There I go again, using that “normal” word, which by now should have been stricken from my vocabulary.

Lot’s of Peace, Love and Hugs!
Glenn and Tamar

December 19, 1999
Hello Everyone,

Looks as though I will actually get this fall letter out just before the winter solstice. Nevertheless, it has the feel of a winter letter, and may have to do as such, since I don’t anticipate writing again until spring.

So, is anybody else out there wondering what the heck we’re still doing here in Moldova? We’re beginning to. It should come as no surprise that we feel differently than the last time we wrote, back in September. We were so busy with work, and enjoying the summer weather that we were genuinely happy. Now we’re not.

Only a few months have passed since then, but things have changed to such an extent, I find it difficult to recall those good feelings now. Every day is a struggle to get out of bed, let alone endure the overcrowded buses we take to work, the cold, drab and muddy surroundings, and the frustrating work environment which awaits us. Anyone recall our references to life here consisting of hills and valleys? Well, we’re in a valley right now. But true to my word, and despite my inclination to blow it off entirely, I’ll forge ahead with this letter so you can continue to share both the ups and the downs of the journey.

It is a difficult time physically and mentally, in no small part due to the fact that ultimate frisbee and jogging are long gone, at least until spring. It’s not that it’s too cold to jog, but the ground in Moldova is treacherous at the best of times, and now with ice and mud everywhere, the risk exceeds the reward. We have developed profound appreciation for good health these days. I’m not talking about the more noteworthy health problems we’ve overcome, but the nagging coughs, colds, and sinus infections which are more or less a permanent state of existence. People are generally not healthy in Moldova, but it seems we are particularly susceptible to the germs Moldovans pass around with relative indifference. There is always somebody coughing, sneezing, or spitting around you, on the street, in the bus or in the market. And the social norms we take for granted back home, like covering your mouth when you cough, washing your hands, or using a handkerchief, have not yet penetrated Moldovan society. It is common to see men or women with a finger firmly entrenched halfway up their nose, aggressively excavating midstream in a conversation. And for those of you who know what a "farmer blow" means (I won’t explain it), in Moldova it is not restricted to farmers, or farms.

People die young in Moldova, at least by our standards. It is not uncommon for men to die in their fifties. We have known more death among Moldovans since we arrived 18 months ago, than we knew for most of our lives back in the States. Just last week, we attended the funeral for the father of one of our best Moldovan friends. He died three weeks before his sixtieth birthday. As well, both Tamar and I have had work colleagues die since we arrived, one of a heart attack at the age of 36, and another murdered. Both left families with young children fatherless. It is very sad.

Add to this the "lack of basic human kindness" from strangers that we’ve mentioned in previous letters. It really wears you down over time, and colors the way you see or feel about things. We’re becoming less and less tolerant, and less enthusiastic about trying to help Moldova, as the negative experiences bury the positive. One example is our daily ordeal on the packed buses we take to work. I’m not even talking about the lumbering old soviet buses, which in and of themselves are comical. I’m talking about the more "luxurious" rutiere. These are minibuses which seat 10-12 people, with room for 3-4 more to stand comfortably, but which often cram 25 people in at a time. It’s incredible to watch, if you’re lucky enough to have a seat already. The bus stops, and people literally hurl themselves into the mash of people already on the bus, shouldering and squeezing other people aside to make room. And as with so many things in Moldovan society, people are so accustomed to abuse that the people getting knocked around seem indifferent to the treatment. They’re resigned to it. Finally, within these absurdly cramped quarters we must endure the smells of prolific body odor, alcohol, garlic, bad perfume, on top of the sneezing and coughing. It is horrible.

Just yesterday Tamar had a typical experience, which will give you a sense of what interactions with Moldovans on the street can be like. Moldovans go through life as if battling one breadline after another. Which, now that I think about it, is actually a pretty fair metaphor for life here. She was at the post office trying to send a package, and had been waiting in one of these lines about thirty minutes when a woman tried to cut in front. Tamar did not let her, so the woman started yelling at her in Russian. Naturally, this woman didn’ t understand Romanian, so Tamar could do nothing but physically keep her back. Then at the last minute, while Tamar was approaching the window, the woman elbowed her aside, and took her place. Tamar was furious, but figured maybe she only had a quick question or something, which is why she had tried to cut in line in the first place. However, she wound up taking ten minutes to complete her transaction, by which time Tamar was fuming. As the woman turned to leave, Tamar couldn’t resist helping her along with a nudge, and the woman responded by turning around and slugging Tamar hard in the back. Tamar would have clobbered her, but she realized this was an older woman, and she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, as much as she wanted to.

This kind of thing happens at the bank, in the market, getting off and on the bus, everywhere. Everyone is simply looking after him or herself, which to some degree is understandable, but makes us wonder sometimes why we bother. But one of the reasons we do bother is the exception to the rule; the kindness and generosity we do experience from time to time with strangers, and often with Moldovan friends and colleagues. However, a little has to go a long, long way.

Yet another component of our current lethargy is work related. While we did have a relatively productive spring-summer-early fall (which admittedly still feels good), now we’re hitting new walls. We have successfully implemented projects, and discovered that while the projects in and of themselves are worthwhile, they seem like a drop in the bucket of what needs to happen in Moldova. Having seen these projects through, from idea to implementation, and knowing what is involved to make even the simplest things work, we are clinging to shredded hopes of realizing any long term impact or sustainability. Not to mention the fact that the people we work with are largely indifferent to our presence, or involvement in their lives. I know, I know, we cannot know or appreciate now what kind of impact we might have had, where, or on whom. Whatever. That’s not good enough anymore. We have put so much energy into our work, and simply maintaining our sanity living here, it is increasingly difficult to be satisfied with such idealistic or philosophical rhetoric.

Ok, enough moaning. Before I drag everyone too far down into our emotional quagmire, how about switching gears for a moment and focusing on the positive aspects of life which remain? Despite news reports that Russia is cutting off its supply of fuel to Moldova, we still have heat. And winter has not been nearly as cold as last year, with temperatures hovering just above freezing most of the time. We also have great friends here, both American and Moldovan, with whom we share lots of good times. We have fun cooking and entertaining, or we’ll go out together to our favorite club and dance like maniacs until the wee hours of the morning. Peace Corps volunteers provide a life support system for one another. We share so many frustrations that it is a kind of community experience. And this bond will be something we can look forward to sharing the rest of our lives. That feels good.

Tamar and I also have great times together alone. Our home is our sanctuary. Now that winter has arrived we’re at home most of the time we’re not at work, because there’s little else to do. We end up spending a lot of time lounging and trying to keep up with all the books and magazines our guardian angels send us. We cook, do laundry, Yoga, watch CNN. And some of our favorite time is when we’re just snuggled up on the couch napping. Doesn’t sound so bad, eh? I’m certain we’ll look back on this time some day, and long for these days when we had so much time, and so few worries. However, spending so much time together in a small apartment does have its drawbacks. For example, we don’t get enough free time alone, and have to be aware of when we need to steer clear of one another for a time.

Remaining in a positive vein, I had an experience at work yesterday which is worth mentioning. We just had our monthly association meeting, the last of the year. And it was very enjoyable for a few reasons. First, the members were tackling some important, but potentially divisive issues, like a tiered membership system, and the problem with member publications breaching advertising contracts. Second, throughout the three hours of discussion, I was really involved. And now that I know these people I understand all the nuances behind the dialogue, which we take for granted when operating in our native language and environment. It was strange and pleasant comparing this experience to a meeting of a year ago. And lastly, after the business was concluded, we all stood around a table filled with food, wine, and Moldovan cognac, toasting our success, and one another. It was a very good Moldovan experience; and an important one to remember.

I alluded before to some successes with work projects we’ve been wrapping up. The Internet access and email project I’ve been working on is finally done. Every member of our association now has access to the Internet and email, and we’re using email to distribute advertisements and other documents. We also have a rudimentary web page, which I hope to use to post monthly articles from member newspapers. However they won’t be of interest to you, unless you understand Romanian. We also had a very successful conference on independent press last month. We involved the staffs from independent publications and had mini workshops in areas like business management, electronic layout/design, accounting, and reporting. I led the workshop on business management, during which we did an exercise together on tracking and analyzing costs and revenues. It was well received by the directors, and they vowed to continue the exercise each month. We’ll see. On the other hand, Tamar is feeling disillusioned with the GLOBE project she’s been working on. After conducting site visits to check up on the teachers who attended the teacher-training, she’s found many of them still haven’t taken the scientific measuring equipment out of the packages! A couple teachers however, are at the point where they have collected some data, and are sending it to D.C. for use by the int’l scientific community. Again, we’ll see!!

The most positive thing in the last few months has been travel. Again, it is the escape from Moldova which offers the greatest relief. And our 12-day trip to Greece at the end of September was wonderful. It turned out to be an ideal time to enjoy Greece because it’s not too hot, and there are far fewer tourists. Also, we enjoyed the company of our best friend Megan Walker, who met us there. That girl has enough positive energy and kindness to power a small country, so it was bound to be a rejuvenating experience. I wish we could have brought her back with us, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone (just kidding).

Arriving in Greece was as exciting as any of our past trips, but without the shock we’ve experienced before when arriving somewhere from Moldova. I think we’ve adjusted to these dramatic transitions between Moldova and the rest of Europe or America. But we were still almost dumbstruck actually being in Greece, for real. And while we set out to make the most of our time, there is much more to see than we had time for, so we resigned ourselves early on to the fact that we would have to return in the future.

We spent our first day in Athens, walking around some cool neighborhoods like Plaka, eating almost everything, and visiting the Acropolis. I have dreamed all my life of visiting the Parthenon, and was almost drooling with anticipation when we finally made our way through the main entrance. But it was a bit anticlimactic in the end. This is partly the nature of dreams realized I suspect, but the main problem was the constant reminders of modern society which imposes itself on this amazing, mythical place.

Make no mistake, it is one of the most incredible creations of ancient mankind anywhere. But with tourists scrambling around like noisy ants, snapping photos of everything, the effect is slightly diminished. I am convinced in fact that many people visit places like this for the sole purpose of getting their picture taken with something famous in the background, just to show off to people back home. It’s as if they’re simply checking off boxes on their list of world sightseeing conquests, rather than sharing in the wonder of such an amazing place. It is sad. As well, there is dramatic evidence of the damage pollution has caused via acid rain, the result of years of unregulated industrial production. The marble everywhere is worn down, and the faces of statues are degraded and losing detail. You try to imagine how it is possible something so magnificent, built thousands of years ago near the beginning of human civilization, has survived so long, through so much violence and war, and yet according to local Athenians, has suffered its greatest degradation in the past 100 years.

In addition, the Greek government is in the midst of a reconstruction project on the Acropolis, which includes lots of scaffolding and a large crane in the center of the Parthenon. They decided to reconstruct the entire Acropolis in time for the 2004 Olympic games. And while they make a big deal about using exactly the same stone, and very sophisticated methods in order to preserve the integrity of the place, it doesn’t seem right. As it is, it is something out of legend. Once they have reconstructed it, it will no doubt be impressive, but it will not be the same. And I doubt it will feel as special because the old will have been lost in the new.

We had had enough of Athens after one day, and decided to flee this noisy, polluted city. It is very difficult to imagine how Athens will manage the Olympics four years from now. The city is so overcrowded that transportation and pollution are nightmarish. I read somewhere that a few years back they had a clever idea to reduce the number of cars on the streets by restricting drivers to specific driving dates for even and odd numbered license plates. The idea backfired. Instead of people being satisfied with driving their cars only every other day, more people bought an extra car with the opposite license plate so they could drive one car on even days and the other on odd days. Whoops. Anyway, we rented a car that afternoon and hit the road. It took us a couple hours before we finally reached the edge of town, less than five kilometers from where we started. But once we broke free, it was nice cruising along with the windows down, the warm fresh air washing over us.

We had a beautiful drive down the Pelopenese peninsula that day, and stayed in a little town called Napflio on the coast. It was a great relief from the city, quiet and charming. The next day we drove to Epidaurus, Mycenae, and back through Corinth to Athens, where we caught a late flight to the island of Santorini. We had decided the sightseeing was ok, but not really what we needed. This was definitely the right move for us, because the islands had everything we really wanted: great beaches, great food, warm water, and lots of charm. We spent our first two days lounging on the dramatic, and beautiful Red Beach, and the third day on the Black Beach. And we spent our evenings in Ios, watching the spectacular sunsets over the crater.

The next day we took a Hydrofoil to Mykenos, where we spent a couple days relaxing on the much smoother white beaches there, and sightseeing in the beautiful, picturesque town. Then sadly, Megan had to return to Athens and catch her flight home. We had a couple extra days, so we took an express ferry to Naxos, where we spent a couple more relaxing days before returning to Athens for a day, and our flight home to Moldova.

It was rough coming back, but the vacation had been fabulous. In fact, for the first time in recent memory, I felt as if I’d been gone longer than I actually was. That is unheard of for vacations, in my experience at least, and a good indicator that we did something right. Also, easing the pain of re-entry was knowing our next trip, to Romania, was less than a month away.

We spent Halloween in Bran, Romania, in the region of Transylvania, legendary home to Dracula's castle. As you can imagine, there are some serious gaps between historical fact and the story itself, but that didn’t diminish the excitement of being there for a giant Halloween party. Every year the volunteers in Romania organize a Halloween party in Transylvania for all Peace Corps Volunteers. Volunteers come from all over eastern Europe, and the CIS countries. Last year we could not attend because of a Peace Corps rule which prohibits travel outside Moldova during the first six months of service. So this was our first. There were nearly three hundred volunteers there in costume. Everyone seemed to take costuming very seriously because there were some of the best costumes I’d ever seen. And we all had a fantastic time. The rest of the time we wandered around Bran, and Brasov, small towns in the beautiful Carpathian mountains. We had almost forgotten how good it feels to be in the mountains.

What else in terms of the daily dirt might be of interest? There has been a significant increase in police activity in Moldova since October. There was a law passed that anyone on the street in Chisinau after 10 p.m. could be stopped and asked for identification. One volunteer has already discovered that a lack of ID will result either in a trip to the police department, or a modest bribe to the officer stopping you. This is part of a larger effort by the Moldovan government to increase security. When we stepped off the train in Chisinau from Bucharesti, we were pulled into a cell by a plain clothed security officer who wanted to see our passports and know what our business was in Moldova. We explained our situation, and after writing down our information in some kind of log book, he released us. But this is very unusual, as we had already come through customs at the border.

We are all left to speculate regarding the source of this heightened security effort. One idea circulating, is that this is linked to an overall sense of regional instability given the conflict in Chechnya, and the assassination of the Armenian Prime Minister. There are no direct links, but Moldova definitely reacts to violence in its region. There is also a problem with street crime, and drug trafficking, especially in Chisinau. Apparently, violent crime is up ninety percent since last year, which includes a couple attacks we’ve heard about on Americans in broad daylight. Most recently, a volunteer was robbed at knife point at the busiest intersection in the city. This, despite a significant increase in the number of police and military on the streets these days. They are everywhere. Unfortunately, these new laws intended to "protect" people, merely encourages open season for shakedowns by uniformed security officers, especially on "rich" foreigners. Volunteers are stopped constantly by uniformed men, and endure ridiculous accusations and suspicions by men simply looking for an opportunity to make a buck. One volunteer was actually robbed at knife point in broad daylight, by three guys in uniform. So it’s difficult to be sure who you’re actually dealing with in these situations.

The other thing I’ve noticed is a lot more guns. We started going to a gym a couple days a week. Yes a gym. It is a small one room gym which is almost normal by western standards; that is except for the men in the locker room showing off their newest guns, and exchanging ammunition. I’m getting used to watching guys emptying and reloading the magazines of their 9mm handguns, while I get dressed. Don’t get me wrong, these guys are mostly friendly. But they are also mostly mafia, and they have a certain lifestyle. The whole thing is just strange.

We have also become accustomed to hearing occasional gun shots at night, which we’ve been told is usually somebody shooting a stray dog. The problem with stray dogs is totally out of control. Although saying that implies there is any effort at all to control the problem, which there is not. Stray dogs are everywhere you go. These scrappers probably have the toughest life of anyone or anything in Moldova. It is depressing to see these dogs in such sorry condition. Many are hopping around protecting frost bitten feet, or worse. The stray cats on the other hand seem to fair a little better, judging from the size of the “meatloafs” we see everyday in front of our apartment building.

On the political front, Moldova’s fledgling democracy is still struggling. Last month the government received a no-confidence vote from the Parliament, which means the President must select a new Prime Minister along with all the heads of various ministries. He selected somebody, and the Parliament rejected him. The rumor is the government had been cracking down on corruption, and the Parliament thought it was getting a little too close to their pocket books. But that’s only a rumor. The parliament has already rejected one proposed replacement. And if the Parliament doesn’t accept the President's latest candidate, the President is threatening to dissolve Parliament entirely, which would mean new elections in the Spring. There’s no continuity and this exacerbates the ineffectiveness of the government. It’s a huge mess.

Life here is in some ways like living in a crucible. It burns away all the layers we protect ourselves with, physically, mentally, emotionally. Layers we’re not aware of until we notice they’re gone. Which isn’t a bad thing until or unless it exceeds our capacity to withstand it. For the first time since we arrived, talk of leaving early surfaced briefly last week. We are examining why we came, if those reasons are still valid, and what more we can accomplish by staying. We’re looking for new motivation and satisfaction. It’s a tricky thing, because we want to be sure we have the proper perspective to see this as another stage, like last year, or if it’s a longer term condition. Most likely it will prove to be another stage. Right now we’re just too close to it to see clearly.

Then, as if it isn’t enough just being here, there are incidents like Tamar experienced yesterday, which really don’t have anything to do with Moldova. Some guy heard Tamar speaking English with a Moldovan friend, and introduced himself as an American working in Moldova. After Tamar’s friend had left, he continued to force the conversation, and after a couple exploratory questions finally asked Tamar if she believed the Holocaust ever really happened. What?!?! Tamar was in disbelief, and pointed out to him that he was talking to the wrong person, as she was a Jew. He was undaunted. He told her that he had several Jewish friends, and asked her how could she be so sure the Holocaust really happened. Tamar then suggested that if he wanted to continue this conversation, he should go brush his teeth because he had a terrible case of halitosis. The "conversation" went downhill fast, and the man ended up making some threatening comments about how there were Palestinians in Moldova, and that she better watch out. It was pretty scary stuff, and definitely didn’t improve Tamar’s overall disposition.

Needless to say, we are definitely looking forward to our next trip at the end of this month. We need it more badly than any trip thus far. We’ll spend most of our two weeks in Portugal, but some time in southern Spain. Hopefully this will provide enough refueling to get us through the rest of winter. I think if we can just manage that, we’ll be in great shape come spring. But who knows. We’ll continue to keep you posted, whatever the case.

Now you’ve had a glimpse of the darker underbelly of our Peace Corps experience. But remember, this is only one point in time, not the entire journey. We have to remind ourselves of this, and that we’ll be singing a different tune come spring. Please don’t worry. If there is one thing we have learned well, it is how to take care of ourselves. There are still lots of good times ahead, and in the end, we will remember the good more than the bad.