Well, we're not going to baptize our children together.

This is my favorite phrase that I've never actually heard.

We're not going to baptize our children together.

Тебе же с ним не детей крестить, literally "You don't baptize children with him."

One of my friends learned this phrase and told me about it. His example is - you hate your boss, and your mom tells you to get over it, you don't have to baptize your kids with him. 

I think it also means: Well, we're close, but not that close. Friends, but not best friends. I'll hang out with her but I won't do something as serious as baptizing my kid with hers. An interesting way to explain the level of your relationship with someone. Maybe it's a little cheeky, as I imagine you'd never say this to someone's face (just about them), but I still think it's kind of cute. 

Not having any real background on this phrase, my assumption is that if it is sometimes used, it's related to the strong Orthodox culture we have here. There are many, many religious holidays and traditions. Baptisms are kind of a big deal. They involve a big ceremony and party and seem like pretty important events. So, even though I might hang out with Mihai a lot, and think he's a great guy.. We're just not going to baptize our kids together. 

This post is part of the Blogging Abroad Blog Challenge. 

Maratonul de Craciun

Merry Christmas from Moldova!

My Christmas was far from Christmassy, but that doesn't mean I didn't do a bunch of Christmassy things leading up to it! More Hallmark Christmas movies than I can count, a sparkling tree, hot wine with Christmas music, and dressing up like Santa Claus to lead my team of reindeer down the streets of Chisinau. 

It's a good thing I've watched Rudolph 147 times, because it helped me keep my reindeer in line (just kidding, that was impossible - it did help us designate names for everyone though). There was a Christmas fun run in the capital that a bunch of PCVs decided to participate in (I say participate rather than run because our sleigh team didn't do a TON of actual running.. Why run when you can prance?!), and 10 of us dressed up as Santa and his reindeer. 

Don't think we've gone crazy or anything, because it was truly a costume run. While we may not have crossed the finish line even close to first, we definitely won first prize for team spirit, holiday spirit, most creative costumes, loudest caroling, most adorable, most fun, best team ever.. I'm sure I'm forgetting something! 

We got fun little gifts along the way, a covrigi medal, diploma to prove our achievements.. There was a lot of dancing, including the hora with all the other costumed participants, a lot of picture taking, and a lot of prancing! And of course, rewards afterwards in the form of brunch and beer. 

The reindeer were adorable with antlers, red lips, and holiday spirit! Santa rocked an '80s onesie, and Rudolph had her red nose to light the way for us all. Blitzen and Comet kept playing reindeer games, Dasher carried us through the 12 Days of Christmas singalong, and Vixen was the snuggliest of all! Oh, yeah, and we were tied together with twine, like a real sleigh team who loves each other so much they never want to be separated! And apart from a few wardrobe malfunctions, we never were. This added challenge really tested our endurance and friendship, and I'm happy to say that both held up. Because we're amazing. No one can say that we didn't win the day. 

Enjoy a million pictures! And here's a link to a news video with an appearance by our very own Rudolph the Red-Nosed PCV. 

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all! 

"Corner of Heaven" Park Grand Opening

I know you've been sitting at your computers, refreshing and refreshing Wining & Whining, just hoping I would finally tell the story of the completion of the park project I've been working on for a year. Well, today is your lucky day, because here it is! I've been slowly collecting photos of the day (it turns out when you have a park opening, it's easy to be so busy and overwhelmed that you just let everyone else take the pictures - but any in this post without credit are ones I did take), and I think I've found them all now, so here we go... 

The day before our Hram (or "village day" - each village has sort of a patron saint that we celebrate once a year with food, dancing, singing, and other events), the mayor sat down in my office and laid out the schedule for me. I thought for some reason I should trust this schedule, though of course I was out of my mind thinking that, because it did not go as planned. 

What he told me was that something would be happening at the cross near my house at 11 a.m., the park opening would be at 3 p.m., and then there would be trântă (which they couldn't explain), and around 6 p.m. the concert and dancing would start. He invited me to all of those things, and said he would pick me up around 11:00 for the thing at the cross. 

The morning of Hram, I woke up, had a leisurely breakfast, and got ready for the mayor to pick me up. I sort of question the necessity of this, as I've seen this cross and it's maybe two blocks from my house - I can definitely walk that far on my own. But he never comes and it's kind of chilly out so I decide I'll stay in rather than wander over to some event I'm confused about anyway.. Some time after 1:00 he calls and says he'll come now. I get dressed again (as if I'm going to spend hours looking nice when my sweatpants are RIGHT there) and he calls back saying, mmmm actually it might be another half hour or so, we don't want to freeze out there. It doesn't look that cold to me, but I wait another half hour and he shows up to drive me two blocks down the street. 

It turns out that this cross (which was erected some number of months ago; I remember noticing it while out on a walk and thinking it was very nice-looking) was built with the donations of a family from the village - a family of 11 children. ELEVEN. This event was the blessing of said cross, with the Orthodox priest, the mayor, probably all of the eleven, and any villagers that happened to pass by. Most of Moldova is Orthodox, and they put crosses, sometimes very elaborate ones, at intersections in the road to protect travelers from accidents and the like. The priest blessed the cross, the choir sang, and then there were some speeches and presentations of gifts. 

(By this time it's approaching 3:00, so of course my Program Manager and the Country Director are waiting for us at the park, and we are on the edge of the village getting holy water thrown in our faces.) 

One of the 11 pulls out a jug of wine, and since the mayor announced the American's park opening during his speech, the man brings it over to us first and lets the Americans drink (my friend has also arrived from the raion center!) - he tells us, "In America you all get your own glass, but in Moldova we all share one - it's okay because we're all healthy." Okay, cool.. Thanks for letting us go first. Appreciate ya. Then the mayor drives us to the park, where Peace Corps is waiting, talking to the kids.

The kids are apparently in the middle of telling my Program Manager that they know me (I think there was a short reenactment of the penguin dance!) and I am shocked at the sheer number of children that are hanging out outside the park. I don't think I knew we had that many children in the village, even. Sometimes a grand opening is symbolic and whatever is being opened has already been in use for some time, but not our park. It's been under lock and key - so a million children are just looking through the bars of the fence as if they're stuck behind them, which they kind of are. 

The mayor rounds up everyone (which is: a million kids, me and my friend Adrin, my PM, the CD, a woman from the raion center, and a seemingly random collection of a few adults) and we begin our opening. There's a sign with pictures of the process (and my name on it!), a Moldovan flag, and an American flag. We stand at one of the gates, facing all the kids, which is suddenly kind of intimidating. The mayor speaks, the CD speaks with translation from my PM, the woman from the raion speaks and presents us with some sort of certificate, and then I have to speak. 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani 

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

So in my 17 months here, I've given "speeches" that I've known about in advance, I've avoided impromptu ones, I've given impromptu ones, and I've suddenly found myself wanting to give them (this category is generally a toast at a masa.. after a glass of wine or two). I've progressed from being told about them and meticulously preparing index cards (okay, I only did that once) to declining to give them, to figuring I'd probably have to give them so I'd better at least prepare mentally, to today.. When I knew I'd have to say something and didn't prepare at all. I didn't know what to say! Of course it's not true that I didn't prepare at all, I thought about it for a while and I had some things in mind, but since I went last, everyone else had already said everything! So I stumbled through some of what I'd thought I would say, and then felt I was doing terribly and speaking awful Romanian, so I just ended with, OKAY GREAT LET'S GO PLAY or something equally horrid. It's even on tape..... So that's cool. 

We cut the ribbon and the kids SWARMED the place. It's not like there was even enough equipment for them all to use, but that didn't seem to make a difference. The opening happened around 3:30 and the kids were still playing when I left the center of the village around 11:00 p.m. - how cute is that! 

Photo courtesy of Adrin Vargas 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Adrin Vargas

We were then taken around to the back of the building that the park is adjacent to to see the trântă, which means wrestling! This was kind of traumatizing, because though we didn't stay for long, I had to watch my sweet little boys from English class fight each other.. I'm pretty sure I heard that my tiniest one lost a tooth while we were watching. (Although another one of mine won his "division" so I'm proud of him! I'm conflicted about it, obviously.) There were three "divisions" called "Rabbit," "Rooster," and ..I'm unsure of exact translation on the last one, but possibly "Ram." (Just noticed it's alliterative in English, so I'm into that.) I guess these are either weight or age, or possibly both. They were awarded prizes later on that night, and if you guessed that the Rabbit winner's prize was a live rabbit, you'd be right. The Rooster won a live rooster, and guess what, there was also a giant live ram, just handed over to probably a 15-year-old boy. I saw the end of this prize awarding last year and was so confused - took me a year, but now I finally know what I walked in on. (Picture me, walking onstage to find a struggling ram upside-down on the floor and wondering just what I'd gotten myself into in this country.) Regrettably, I did not capture that moment on film, so I'll just have to come back in 20 years for that.

After watching a round or two of trântă, the mayor wanted to take us back to the cross to show my PM and CD, so we went there and the family was still there. They invited us to their house to join their masa, so we did. It was really cool, and one of the bigger masas I'd been to. Our CD gave a toast that was translated, and the family gave a few in both Russian and Romanian that they had translated for the Americans. There was singing and they gave us colac, which is this twisted/braided bread that they present with candles in it for special occasions. 

Then we went to the Primaria so they could see the mayor's office, which was also set up with a masa for later, but we got to eat some right then, because the mayor had to share some of his wife's wine. He boasted that next year if they come again, they'll be able to try wine that I made. He told them that he considers me like another daughter, which was only one of the times I almost cried that day. The mayor even told the story (twice) of how when I first visited before moving here permanently, I cried for two days straight at the thought of having to live here, and then said, "And she doesn't cry anymore." (Well, mostly.) 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Our Country Director gave a toast here, too, and it was really special to me. She talked about how just seeing this community for a few hours, she could tell that they love me and are taking good care of me. She said that she could tell that it wasn't just a community, it was a family. I'm thankful to be a part of that family (which I said later that night in my toast at the big Primaria masa, and definitely DID cry for) in my little village. The park has always been called "Corner of Heaven," or, "Colț de Rai." I don't know why my partner named it that, but we stuck with it the whole time. I thought it was kind of cute, kind of silly.. But this week I was riding the bus home from an unexpected, not-so-great trip to Chisinau, and as we neared the village, I looked out the window to see a little bit of sunlight breaking through clouds, the rays shining and looking as much like a corner of heaven as anything could have that day, or any day. I might have cried for two whole days when I first visited my village, but I think it's my Colț de Rai now. I'm part of the village family, and it's this beautiful little place (a "hidden gem," according to Adrin!) that I get to keep living in for the next 8-9 months or so. 

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

As for the park - as soon as school gets out, the kids head straight there to play. I've seen them playing at the park every day that I've been by. Since the opening, we've planted trees and bushes and everyone in the village seems really proud of it. We do a lot without tangible results, so it's nice to walk by and see the kids playing, and to get to join them (I only fit on the swings.. The merry-go-round and teeter-totter are, um.. A little small) and hang out with my little friends. So I'm really proud of this too! It took a lot of work and collaboration and adapting to craziness and some struggles along the way, but (even though I just talked about tangible results and smiles aren't quite tangible) the smiles on those tiny little faces make all the crazy worth it. Now we've got a little Corner of Heaven in our corner of heaven, in our corner of Moldova, in our corner of the world. 

Wining & Wining

I've been doing my share of whining lately (I always do), but it's been far less than my wining, because it's WINE season in Moldova! I know you might think that every season in Moldova is wine season, and I can't say that you'd be wrong, exactly.. But the beginning of autumn is decidedly more of a wine season than the rest of the year. (My host mom has informed me that they made more wine this year, so they'll definitely have it until I leave.. Apparently they ran out a lot earlier than normal this year, so.. Oops.)

The start of the parade!

Traditionally, National Wine Day is held the first weekend in October in Chisinau. The wineries come and set up booths, there's food and music and dancing.. Kind of like a tiny Oktoberfest, but in Moldova, and for wine. Lately though, Moldova has been having a tough time politically. There has been protesting going on for a while in the main square (really throughout the country), so this year the Wine Day celebrations were cancelled in Chisinau and held other places instead. Individual wineries hosted events, for example. While I didn't participate in any of those, I knew that there was a Wine Day in my raion center that same weekend, and I had planned already to go with my village. 

Villagers and PC friends at our booth

After the "wine weekend" last year, everyone at work asked me why I didn't come to the Stefan Voda Wine Day - where was I, what had I been doing?! Well, guys, you sort of forgot to tell me it was a thing, soooo.. That's why I wasn't there. But this year I knew it was a thing, so I got to go with the mayor and some ladies from the gradinita to the raion center. 

Our delicious spread, which I wish I'd eaten more of..

Another village's super cool display

We dressed in traditional costume and set up a booth for our village - most of the villages in the raion were there with booths, some with elaborate setups of crafts and food and wine. It was like every village brought out their fanciest things to display, including mine! Some of them were really cool, and there were other displays out too - art exhibitions, a display from the best metalworker in the raion (who just so happened to make the fence for my park - I could tell it was the same work so I introduced myself, and of course he already knew who I was), a setup from Et Cetera (the cutest winery in the raion), and people making and selling food.  

We're in the parade! It wasn't led by even ONE trombone.. But there were many accordions.

Once we were dressed and the tables mostly set up, we suddenly had to rush over to the main road. The women were practicing a song and asked if I would sing with them. I mean, sure, but I don't know the words, and you seem to have them memorized.. But I'll stand there and look pretty if you want. We didn't end up having to sing, but we did find ourselves the correct spot in the village parade, which was starting without us, because we dawdled a little bit I think. How we found our spot, I don't know.. Though I suspect the villages were lined up alphabetically, it was still pretty confusing. The parade was very short; we walked past the big crowd in the center, cheered for Caplani, and then we were done. Back to the booth! I found my friends and had lunch and wine with them, and eventually got a call from the mayor asking me to bring my friends over to the booth to have a glass of Caplani wine! Then I changed out of my borrowed costume (though not before a quick photoshoot so I could send photos to my mother, which they are always pretty concerned about) and my village left, so I spent the rest of the day with my friends in the raion. It was fun!

Last year I got to spend a long day with my friends picking grapes for wine that I would unfortunately never get to taste, but this year I didn't have the opportunity to do any grape-picking. I thought that was kind of unfortunate, so I figured maybe I could ask the mayor if I could join him one day while he was working on his wine - his wife is known in the village for making very good wine. I've been at masas where I try to leave, only to be informed that I've only tried Ana's wine from x year, and I need to also try it from y year (and maybe even from z year? It's all a blur). 

Once the mayor knew I wanted to learn how to make wine, I think he got pretty excited. He seems to really love when I participate in things, which I find curious because I can't imagine not participating in community events and traditions and such. But he's always very happy to share things with me. He loves taking my picture so that I have a record of my time here, which I think is sometimes just adorably silly, but which I'm also pretty thankful for.. There's only so much you can show in a selfie, but when you essentially live alone, there aren't too many opportunities to have your picture taken in this place where you're living for two whole years. So it's nice to have some photos of me in my village, thanks to the mayor. And on this particular day when I went with him to make wine, he did not disappoint on this front. I now have over 100 pictures of myself making wine - he appointed himself the photographer for the afternoon and took his job very seriously. 

One day soon after the Wine Day, I talked to the mayor at work and he asked if I wanted to learn to make wine with him at his brother's house. I think I probably said something like, "OBVIOUSLY!" So he picked me up at my house after lunch and we went over to his brother's house - coincidentally, it's right next to his. (Sorry, Hannie, but I don't think I plan to move in right next to you in the future.) I was actually confused when we arrived and thought I'd misunderstood about where we were going, but we walked through the "backyard" and were suddenly at Misha's house.

I don't know what I thought would happen, but it definitely wasn't what happened. I guess I assumed they would be at some point in the process, and they'd explain what they'd done prior and what they would be doing after. I didn't think they would be midway through every single step and that I'd get to try them all! But I did! I had barely greeted Misha when the mayor asked for my camera to start snapping, and immediately I was turning a crank to grind grapes while smiling for the camera. They were almost done with that, so we quickly moved to the next step, which involved handing me a caveman club so I could beat the grapes that were in a barrel. I was not very adept at this step, but Misha kept adding grapes and I kept attempting to squash them. At some point he decided there were enough in there, so he put a top on the barrel, weighed it down with a bunch of stuff, and added a handle, which I had to turn to squish the grapes more so that juice would come out. Eventually a longer handle was added so I could just walk around and around the barrel - this part was the most fun, I think. 

Wine (or the beginnings of it) started pouring out into a container below the barrel, which we took in buckets to the REALLY big barrels in the garage area and poured it in, where it would ferment for 40 days. Luckily, they already had some fermenting (I told you they were midway through every step!), so I got to fill a jug from one of the barrels and we sat down to drink and eat - the mayor, his brother, their wives, and me. The mayor's wife thought the whole process was pretty hilarious, especially, I think, because the men would explain something really quickly, I would take a minute to understand so I'd look confused (I clearly need to add feedback to language learning - need more wine-making vocabulary), and then I'd attempt to do it while the mayor shouted directions - not about the wine, but about posing for the camera. So she laughed and laughed and took her own pictures while we were working.

Now we'll interrupt this blog post for a complete documentation of this event. 

The tiny masa afterward was just as fun - it was one of those days where you feel really good about your Romanian so things make sense. I was even able to make everyone laugh with a joke or two (clearly I've MADE IT), and it was just like I was at home for family dinner. Or family wine night. Afternoon. Whatever! They joked about how whenever I went back to America, I needed to stop at the house first to get a bucket of wine to take on the plane, and when I told them how long the trip was, they said, "Oh. You're going to need two buckets."

Both Wine Day and my wine day were really fun, but odd as it feels to say (because of my love for wine and all), I don't think it was at all because of the wine. Both days were time spent with different people in the community that treat me more like family than like a visitor in their village. Last year at this time I was having kind of a hard time, but this year I feel like I'm in the right place, doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm part of the community in a way that I wasn't before, and frankly, didn't expect I ever would be. It's like I belong here, and these people are my neighbors, friends, colleagues, and family. (I'm even getting along GREAT with host mom, so you'll be happy to hear that!) The majority of the majority of my days are happy, and it's got nothing to do with the wine.