Ho Freakin' Ho...

Ah yes: the holiday season has rolled into town, like those carloads of delightful, crazed relatives who are no doubt breaching the barricades of your quiet home at this very moment [fade to fruitcake jokes and tales of Uncle Cletus's kidney stones]. Luckily, I'm safe and out of reach (yes, that was a joke). Now is the time to reflect on family, friends, the exploits of the past year...and where we're going to sleep, now that the cousins have taken over all of the beds.

Thanksgiving was actually terrific here: a few of us volunteers from western Romania got together at a cabin in the mountains, along with Romanian friends and coworkers, for a nice cross-cultural feast. Because my friend Kenny is a former rancher and current agro/animal-husbandry volunteer in his village, he managed to procure two of the largest turkeys I'd ever seen -- one cooked the conventional way in a wood-fire "soba", the other deep-fat fried...which was, for the Romanians, a glorious and terrifying experience indeed. The meal was a wonderful combination of American and Romanian fare, and because I had brought a young French couple along from a nearby village, we even had home-bottled French wine to wash it all down. Considering that the first Thanksgiving was an intercultural event (i.e. the Indians providing, the Pilgrims eating), I think we really got back to the spirit of it all, here in the Romanian wilderness.

December 5th is Saint Nicholas' Day (Sfantul Nicholae) among the Romanian Orthodox, at which point you opt either to buy little gifts for loved ones or, far more entertainingly, buy a decorated stick or large wooden spoon/paddle with which to "beat" them for their failings...or both. An odd mix of the carrot and the stick, but everyone seems to enjoy themselves and the punishment is not meted out with any real conviction. My class of volunteers were all in Sibiu, a stately old medieval city in Transylvania (central Romania) for in-service training at the time, and thoroughly enjoyed watching everyone chase each other around with presents and weapon in hand.

Christmastime is a wonderful season in this country, even when many people (and local governments) have very little money with which to "deck the halls". Anything that is worth looking forward to is a good thing in this life, as far as I'm concerned. Say what you will about the commercialism and excess, but now that Romanians are at last beginning to find themselves with even a little disposable income, they are coming to learn how great it can be to spoil one's self here and there -- with a few more Christmas gifts, with a few more strings of lights or garlands over the door...or with that terrible, tacky plastic "animated" Santa that no town seems able to resist. Timisoara, our nearest city, is absolutely ablaze with Christmas lights [see pictures], and given the approach of E.U. accession on January 1st, it's an understatement to say that there is a crackle of excitement in the air at the approach of Christmas and New Year's. Romanians, in general, are somewhat skeptical of the effect that accession will have on their country, but for now, most are willing to suspend that disbelief, at least temporarily.

The other holiday tradition that you will see represented in the photos (a warning to anyone without a strong stomach) is the annual killing of the pig. Every Romanian family goes through the process of killing, butchering, and eating a pig at some point in the holiday season. I'd tend to think, though, that this is a tradition that goes back to long before the founding of the Christian church: a sacrificial offering for Winter Solstice (Dec. 21st) perhaps? In any event, it was quite an event to behold. On this occasion, the pig was actually slaughtered not at my family's home but in the next village over, and then was slung in the back-seat of the family car. It definitely gave me a new appreciation for the origins of pork, bacon, sausage, and other delectable pig products, to see this feast go from "stable to table" in a few hours. As Romanians say, pofta buna ("good appetite").

So as not to end on a sour note (or sow note, as the case may be), after spending Christmas with my terrific host family, I am due to head back to Sibiu for New Year's, where people will celebrate not only the joining of the E.U., but also the designation of Sibiu as one of two "European Cultural Capitols" for 2007, along with Luxembourg. Not too shabby.

So light the yule log, have some of that lighter-fluid eggnog your cousin makes, and enjoy those visions of sugar plums, Mos Craciun, Hannukah Harry, Kwanzaa, the Great Spirit, Nordic gods, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or whatever tradition you subscribe to...

Happy Holidays, everyone!!

P.S. - ANOTHER NOTE ON PHOTOS (why do I feel like I do a lot of these?!): for those of you wanting captions or more information on each photo your viewing in Winkflash, just go to the "Comments" tab for each photo, where I usually put a full description of what's going on. Yes, I wish you didn't have to click to a separate page for comments...but such is life! Check it out.

Getting Around

I think a theme worth expounding upon this time is the wild, wooly, wonderful world of transportation in Romania, which seems to get only more interesting as Romania goes through its growing pains. Much like the food in this country, the various ways you can get from here to there make up a kind of smorgasbord of traditions, cultures, and eras (ancient and modern). In my town, for example, many residents still get their families, belongings, animals, and wares (to sell at the market) around in the "căruţă", an open horse-drawn wagon stitched together, rather Frankenstein-esque, from whatever wood and metal can be scrounged-up, and completed with four (not necessarily matching) auto or truck wheels, often with the original hubcaps intact. These wagons can be seen in just about every part of Romania, including many cities, and ignoring their drawbacks in inclement weather (got a raincoat?), they're vehicles whose simplicity and utility will probably keep them on Romanian roads for quite some time to come.

Another popular way of getting around town and around the countryside is on one of Romania's gigantic fleet of old buses ("autobuze"), many of which I'm sure represented the absolute peak of modernity back in the '60s. Many among these were donated at some point by German cities, and thus have old German signs and stickers that no one bothered to remove. Suffice to say, I've taken enough multiple-hour trips on such buses, on winding, unpaved mountain roads to know that any supposed comfort vanishes after the first ten minutes. And pray that it's not too hot outside, since many Romanians have a strong aversion to open windows (on trains, in cars, at home, at work...), as it is believed that the "current" (i.e. the draft) causes ill health. Yes, as you may guess, a bus full of people with varying perspectives on personal hygiene, coupled with no open windows...well, let's just say you feel somewhat like you're in a crockpot on simmer.

And then of course there are the ubiquitous blue Romanian trains, which date from roughly the same period as the buses, though these may never have looked all that nice, even when new. Much like the Hindu caste system, there is a caste system of Romanian trains: "personal" trains are the lowest and cheapest (and often approximate traveling in a metal filing cabinet); then there are "accelerat" and "rapid" trains, which are more expensive and supposedly better (perhaps they changed the ashtrays periodically or something). Truth be told, those names are cruel jokes, since there is generally very little "accelerating" going on, and definitely no "rapid"; Lastly, is the "inter-city" level, which is often in the form of a hyper-modern "bullet"-type train, and for which we volunteers can easily fork out half of our monthly spending budget for one trip. Since flying is prohibitively expensive for most Romanians, everyone takes the train, and honestly, if you are willing to be patient and travel with a spirit of adventure, taking the train can be extremely fun...it all depends on the people in your cabin.

Yet another major form of transportation, and certainly one of the most popular, is hitchhiking. Granted, it's not officially condoned by the Peace Corps (and I naturally would never think of it myself), but hitching a ride in someone's lovable old broken-down Dacia, whether across town or across the country, is simply a matter of sticking out your thumb on any road (major or minor) and waiting a few minutes. It is generally quite safe as well. There are actually coworkers of mine in the town hall who commute this way every day, on the 20-min. ride to and from Timisoara, the nearby city. You meet interesting people, see interesting vehicles (ever hitchhiked on a tractor?), and get to your destination much quicker than the alternatives, even if the car sounds like it's about to explode. You get used to that sound.

Romanians also walk and bike over distances, and with payloads, that you would never think possible...in all sorts of weather. I guess necessity forces one foot in front of the other. I actually saw one guy walking down the sidewalk recently with a washing machine on his back! He was whistling.

I love this country. Oh, and don't forget to check out my new photos at the link on the right.

Well, as those of you who check my blog and photos regularly (why, I really don't know) already know, waiting for my updates to arrive online is about as riveting as watching your fingernails grow. Due to the fact that my dial-up connection here in Recas is apparently powered by hampsters, and the fact that I actually am getting work done over here, I haven't been in touch as often as I would like. Then again, those of you checking my blog probably know me well...and thus know that this lack of communication is normal for me, even when I don't have that terrific "Eastern Europe" excuse! So be grateful for what you are getting.

The truth is, I have been quite busy: last week, I was running around the country by train, between meetings of Local Development Agents in various Romanian counties, along with playing host to my PC program manager (Community & Economic Development) from Bucuresti. And lastly, I made a presentation to my local Town Council on a project I am hoping to get started to renovate our public market space. And then this past weekend, it was off to another meeting/retreat in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains (if you wait the usual 6 months or so, you can see the photos!) This week looks to be much the same: other than the usual language tutoring sessions, we are hosting a visiting delegation of Polish farmers to our area, through a sister-cities program. Heck, I may even go to a ballroom dance class tomorrow (Oct. 5) night in Timisoara. Ah yes, the solitary life of the Peace Corps Volunteer!

I promise I'll get some new photos up soon. In the meantime, start planning those trips to visit...

Work

I realized recently that, up until now, I haven't really explained what exactly my job is here in Recas. I am working in the Local Development Office of the Recas Town Hall. In this function, my local counterpart and I are involved in everything from the upgrading of infrastructure (water, utilities, garbage, etc.) to the development of tourism, attracting new business, and applying for EU and international development funds. In other words, our office is something of a catch-all for local issues and projects. For the first few weeks, aside from familiarizing myself with the community, the major needs, and the major players, I have for instance begun to develop architectural drawings of the town hall and several other publically-owned buildings in town (for which drawings have never really existed). The hope is that I may be able to spearhead various renovation and reuse projects. Another "possibility area" is the town park, which the mayor would like to redesign (along with the introduction of a new recreational park for young people) to be more welcoming and usable by the public. If you take a look at my PHOTOS, I included a shot of the park (with the Catholic Church in the background). Another photos I included is of the existing town market space, to which the town hall would like to give a facelift. The key will be to see how much can be done for barely any money! And then there is of course the Strategic Development Master Plan for the area, which has until now not really gotten off the ground -- and yet is vitally important for plotting out how the town will manage physical growth in the coming years. So as you can see, there is plenty of work to do: some projects will be achievable in a matter of days, others may take my entire two years (and then some).

It has been nice to be busy, and feel that I am already filling a need on the town hall staff. Now if I could only figure out what people are saying to me!...

Gotta run, but enjoy the pictures, and please feel free to respond.

A few words on my new home

I've already mentioned a little bit about my new town, Recas, which sits on the rolling plains of the Banat, in western Romania. While I have a few minutes though, I thought I'd fill in the picture a little more: Recas is actually a collection of a few villages (Recas being the largest at 8500 people, and in which I live) that were only incorporated into "localitatea" (i.e. town) status two years ago. It is a town that sits among vineyards and substistance farmlands. Every morning I am awakened by the crowing of roosters, the bleating of sheep, the mooing of cows, the strangely abrasive chatter of goats, and of course the song-birds. You constantly smell the barnyard and the animals, and the fresh air from the hills. It's wonderful. When I jog, I dodge cow-pies (and what, from Romanian, literally translates as "vagabond dogs"). Recas is a town, like so many, wrestling with itself over its place in the new world -- a stronghold of rural tradition on the one hand, and a modernizing commercial district on the other. Recas is already home to Cramele Recas, one of Romania's most well-known wineries, and it will soon be home to the oddly named "Eurocheese" factory, exporting dairy products all over the continent. And yet we still buy our fresh bread every morning from the local bakery. Everyone lovingly tends their own garden plots during the warm months, saving and preserving all that they can before the cold sets in. In the past, I suppose, one's garden was one of the few sources of sustinence over which you had (relative) complete control...which leads back to the homemade liquor discussion.

All of this and I'm only a 30-minute train ride from the beautiful city of Timisoara! Gotta run--

Diggin' In

Well, at long last, the proverbial PC van slowed down and kicked me out the door, and as of today (7/31), I am officially a full-fledged Peace Corps Volunteer (having made it through swear-in on Friday) and have landed at my site (Recas) for the long haul. Alas, I am tired, it's late, and before I put in any more text in parentheses (like now) I'll sign off. More photos soon. --Ciao

Training's almost over!

Here we are coming into our last week of the 10 weeks of training: next Friday we have our "graduation" and then it's off to our permanent sites for 2 years! Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of visiting my site for the first time (check out my new photo album on Winkflash), Recas in the extreme west of Romania. As you will see, it's a beautiful little town of 8500 people amidst rolling farmland and vineyards. The region in which it sits, the Banat, is the former stronghold of the Austro-Hungarian empire, and thus the part of Romania most culturally connected to Central Europe (much of it was officially ceded to Romania only in the 20th Century). My new host family for the first month at site is yet another wonderful Romanian family, and as is becoming the norm, they smother me in hospitality (i.e. food)! And on that note, a word or two about Romanian cuisine:

FOOD: In so many different ways, Romania is a cultural melting-pot of Western European, Slavic, Mediterranean, and Turkish traditions and influences. From the goulashes and paprikas of the Hungarian west, to the Turkish shaormas and kebabs of the Black Sea coast on the eastern edge, to the sarmale of the south (demonstrating the Greek and Macedonian influence). There is a strong presence of spiced meat and sausage throughout the country (for instance, "mici" is a grilled case-less sausage that everyone here, including myself, loves), and no end to the bread that is eaten with each meal. Starches provide the basis for most meals, whether in the form of potatoes, rice, the egg noodles that people of the Banat like in their soup ("supa"), or sticky polenta dumplings ("mamaliga"). The "sarmale" I mentioned above is spiced ground beef, pork, rice, and onion rapped in cabbage leaves and served either alone or with rice and red or white sauce, sometimes yoghurt ("iaurt"). Romanians universally love sweets, whether in the form of pastries, cakes, filled crepes, various puddings, or ice cream ("inghetata"). Though fresh fruit can sometimes be difficult to obtain during the non-summer months, preserved jellies and sauces are always easy to find.

As for drink, my town of Recas has one of the country's most well known wineries, Cramele Recas, whose products I will no doubt be pretty familiar with before long. Aside from Romania's excellent (and cheap) wines, there is of course the plum brandy that is generally considered Romania's national spirit: "tuica". Many people, like my current host family, distill it themselves from plums they grow in their own yards. You learn very quickly in Romania to get over your silly American squeamishness with regards to the hygenics of food and drink production. The milk I usually enjoy is thick, aromatic, slightly chunky, and straight from the bovine. And thusly for the tuica: my host father distills it in old rusty barrels, over an open fire -- and it is generally served in whatever empty bottle or vessel is available. You quickly get used to "floaties" (i.e. miscellaneous particles floating around in the liquid). But frankly, not only am I still alive, but I feel great and love the stuff! A little more dirt and a little less hypercleanliness in our lives makes us all better and healthier people, ironically. No homogenization or pasteurization here! (yet...as a side note, if and when the E.U. accepts Romania into the club this coming January, there will be vast regulations about food production and agriculture that Romania will need to adopt).

In summation: Romanian cuisine is spectacular...just don't expect to find anything low-fat or low-carb here! CHECK OUT MY PHOTOS.

Updates - July 10

Well, Winkflash continues to be a headache. To further clarify: you MUST sign up for a free account with Winkflash in order to view my photos. Then, from your account page, click on the "View Friend's" tab, and THAT is when you type in my username ("jcridlinmoore") and secret word ("Moe"), which will allow you access to all of my albums. I hope this solves the problem.

In other news, I am currently on my first visit to what will be my permanent site, a little town named Rekas just east of the City of Timisoara, in extreme western Romania. For those of you motivated enough to look it up on Encarta, it is in a region called the Banat, which stretches between western Romania, Serbia, and Hungary, and represents what was once the eastern end of the Habsburgs' Austro-Hungarian empire. It is a beautiful region of rolling hills, forest, and farmland, and is made up of a diversity of cultures and languages: Romanian, Croat, Hungarian, Serb, German, and Rroma (or "Gypsy"). Anyway, my new host family here are terrific people, and I'm excited to get to know the area better, after we "graduate" from training in two weeks and become full Peace Corps Volunteers. And then, I'll have two years to settle in! I'll try to get some more photos up as soon as possible. Hope everyone is well.

A Note on Photo Viewing

I've received a few responses about problems accessing my shared photos on Winkflash. So to correct what I said before: my username is "jcridlinmoore" and my secret word is "Moe" (note that the "M" is uppercase). If this doesn't fix the problem, let me know.

Otherwise, things are good. I'm at the Peace Corps' head offices in Buchuresti today for admin stuff, and am proud to say I used the subway without getting lost (hey: minor victories are still victories). A group of us volunteers were in Pitesti this weekend doing work for Habitat For Humanity. We were literally digging ditches, but it was a fun time and we are happy to have given. Pitesti is a small city about 1.5 hours northeast of Buchuresti by train, and a pretty one: lots of parks and a nice central walking mall. As for Buchuresti itself, I haven't seen enough to report anything, but am excited to explore it more fully. Romanians certainly love their monuments! (but then, so do Americans) Signing off.

Slowly Catching Up

Well, after one month in Ploiesti, I can accomplish a few things: use public transportation without getting hopelessly lost (sometimes), ask for a beer and where the bathroom is (and a few other things), and post photos online. Go to Winkflash.com and type in my username (jcridlinmoore) and secret word (moe), and enjoy the first taste of this wonderful new home I've found for myself. Romania is a beautiful country full of beautiful and kind people, and as I continue to learn more about the language and my new neighbors, I can barely contain my excitement. I think that, while I'm getting this blog off the ground, it makes sense for me to focus on specific areas -- and slowly build for you all a broad picture of this country, so:

Transportation: This seems as apt a subject to start with as any. Getting around in Romania is, at all times, a somewhat harrowing and invigorating experience. Traffic rules are obeyed voluntarily, roads (and sidewalks) are in various stages of deterioration, vehicles themselves are rolling pieces of improvisational art. There is, first and foremost, little or no public money to maintain infrastructure. And there is often very little private money to buy newer vehicles or even parts. And so your average Romanian citizen is a self-trained virtuoso in mechanics and fabrication. Somehow, they manage to tack and bind their cars and trucks together in a ways that works, and continues to work. Everything is worn, is older, has the patina of age and use, and yet somehow rattles down the road. The same could be said for the huge concrete apartment blocks, or the plumbing. Years of having to make do with less have created a society of supremely enterprizing and improvisational people. Romanians are proud of what they have, and how they maintain it, even when it amounts to relatively little. Much can be learned from this outlook, I think.

That's it for now. Let me know what you think (and check out Winkflash).

Here in One Piece

Hey all. We arrived in Romania a few days ago, and have begun training here in Ploiesti, an industrial city an hour north of Bucharest. Aside from the information and culture overload, I'm doing well and am excited to get up to speed as soon as possible. My host "parents" don't speak English, but are wonderful people nonetheless - and somewhere between hand gestures and my infantile Romanian, we get by. Gotta run. Will post some photos soon!

Signing On

Hey all. This is officially the first in what will hopefully be a long and infamous series of postings on "Moe International" (hey, if you can think of a better name...start your own blog). We won't be winning any journalism awards here, but I hope this blog proves to be informative and fun for all of you out there. Comments are welcomed.

Enjoy!