The Light of the Moon
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

It seems memorizing dates wrong is my thing lately because most web pages I've read lately call tomorrow August 29, the anniversary of Katrina. Although Wikkepedia confirms that the hurricane was formed August 23rd and lasted in various degrees of strength until August 31st and since it made several landfalls in different areas how can we give it but one day? Is this humankind trying to force nature to fit into our narrowly defined determinations and definitions?

Anyway, tonight August 28th is in the U.S. and it Romania the full moon, so please if you can join me in praying for good luck, strength, abundance and hope on the Gulf Coast and for all those still recovering from Katrina and the losses she caused. The full of the moon can represent abundance and regrowth as we send postive energy to those who need it. And if you don't read this blog until tomorrow you can join me tomorrow night too, because then the moon begins waning and thusly it is an appropriate time to reflect on loss and damage.

Anniversaries, Three
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

TOMORROW, August 24th is my mom’s birthday so, Happy 57 Mom! I hope it feels good to be 57 and I hope you call me at ten to six in the morning on my 57th birthday to remind me how good it is to be 57! Interestingly – to I don’t know, no one, no one finds this interesting - but there’s some controversy in my family over my parents birthdays because for some reason I always thought my dad’s was the 23rd of June and my mom’s was the 24th of August and then last year when I told her I couldn’t remember if her birthday was the 23rd or the 24th and she emailed me “they’re both the 24th” - I, then, for some reason thought, My God, I memorized my Mom’s birthday wrong! And then rememorized it as the 23rd – which is wrong. So I was right before and then I spent a whole year thinking it was wrong. So apparently I’ve been dabbling in not knowing either of my parents birthdays, but I suppose it’s ok because everyone who knows me knows I can’t remember numbers. And like I said it’s not that interesting!
Hope you have a good birthday, Mom!

Another anniversary which deserves much less fan fare is the 22nd of August which was my 6 month anniversary in Romania! It doesn’t feel like that long. Probably because the first three months were of training and the last three months were on site. Probably it’s also because of the three care packages I’ve received since moving to Deva filled with all the comforts of home. Or maybe it’s because I have a razor sharp memory and can turn to my friends and say “remember that day in training when you said “ ” and I said “ ” recalled with absolute clarity that makes PST feel like it was yesterday. Plus the fact that the first two months I was at site I still lived with a host family so it’s not like I’ve been “living the life” all that long.

However, there are still some friends I haven’t heard from since I left. Some of you have never emailed me in six months! What did I do? Are you pissed off at me? Are we still friends? In that respect six months is a long time. But I’m not talking about you if I haven’t emailed you - if I haven’t emailed you shame on me, but I think I have. I email a lot of people. I email people I met one time. I email people I don’t even know. Hell, since I’ve been in Romania I’ve even gotten back in touch with people from high school and college who I haven’t talked to in years! But if I haven’t heard from you, don’t be a stranger. I miss you, I really do and I want to know what’s going on in your life. Chances are I sent you a postcard too, even though maybe you never got it. Why don’t you email me to find out?

For those of you keeping score, this means I’m 3 months into my two year service because the first three months were training, right? So for three months in, how’s it going? Not bad. Things are just starting to happen. They’re happening slowly, but that’s to be expected, but more on that later.

August 25 – the second anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Let me just say before I could finish this part of the post I had to go and clean the toilet. I wanted to get my thoughts together about what I was going to say and some things if you’re going to think about them you may as well be looking at a toilet while you think about them.

Earlier this week my counterpart at my organization said something about how when a community goes through a tragedy it sometimes makes people act more like a community and care for one another. That’s when I started talking about hurricane Katrina. (Talking? Me? I know!)But I talked for probably about an hour just trying to describe the enormity of the situation to this Romanian woman. How much damage was done, how much work there is to do. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around it, yet get someone whose whole country is the size of Oregon to imagine a storm that touched three states.

In a lot of ways I would rather discuss hurricane Katrina with Romanians than Americans. Romanians are eager to understand, and curious about the situation. They don’t have any preconceived notions that New Orleans “deserved to be punished” for anything. All they know is New Orleans is a city in my country, and when I tell them about Mississippi and all the damage that was done there that wasn’t on the news they say “why?”
I try to explain to them that New Orleans had a unique history and culture. It’s where the Africans, Spanish, and French came together and mixed and it was a place that had its own ways and music and food and language until recently and now all that may be lost. That’s not something some Americans understand. I have little patience for the “they shouldn’t even rebuild” “what did you think would happen with a city below sea level” knee jerk reaction of some Americans who don’t take the time to appreciate the richness that was there but see the disaster as a moral issue or worse – a financial issue.

As I talked about Katrina and all the problems it created for so many people I felt monumentally sad, but not just because of what transpired or how the aftermath was handled. I thought about my experiences in Mississippi both times, and the time I spent in Louisiana in 2005. I had good experiences working on the Gulf Coast. I made friends that I’m still in touch with now that I hope to keep in touch with. Looking back, I have many great memories of my time in Ocean Springs. It was a wonderful experience and I’m glad I had it, but I have a hard time finding where I did any work?
Who did I help? What did I do?

And that’s when I realized for the first time how hard it was for me to leave my volunteer position in Ocean Springs Mississippi. It wasn’t hard at the time because it was Christmas and I wanted to go home and I wanted to see my friends and nothing was going on at Camp Victor anyway, but now I feel sad that I couldn’t stay and continue. Why did I leave? Wasn’t there enough work to do? Why did I come to Romania when there are people at home who need food and care and support?
They still need someone to rebuild their houses and they still need people to listen as they describe what happened that day two years ago when the worst natural disaster to ever hit the United States hit their town. (And I’m not just saying that, it was declared by the people who declare these things…the disaster people).

I’m sorry I had to leave and come to Romania because there is still work to do on the Gulf Coast. And almost more important than the work is the understanding that needs to be shared. Whenever I talk to Romanians about the storm I say the same thing I said to the people I met on the coast “in the north, where I’m from, people still don’t know what happened. Some people think, it’s six months…a year…two years…it should be cleaned up by now.”

In many ways I wish I could still be working on the Gulf, but my path brought me to Romania. I’ve always wanted to do the Peace Corps and now was the time. Delaying it wouldn’t have helped me and maybe it wouldn’t have helped the people of the Gulf that much either, but I don’t know.

I could say I came to Romania with a job to do – but in some ways it’s harder than that because I’m still figuring out what that job is. There are challenges here I need to prepare for, and things I need to learn before I can return and help anyone. So, I still think Peace Corps is the right thing for me right now. But I can’t help but feel bad for all the work that still needs to be done so this part of my country can heal.

And maybe that’s all I can do right now – from several thousand miles away I can say to the Gulf Coast of the U.S.A. I miss you, and I’m still thinking about you.

This angel is part of a mural on the outside of the building at Camp Victor, Ocean Springs Mississippi where I stayed as a volunteer October 1st 2006 - December 15, 2006.

(Not Quite) There and Back Again

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Lately I always seem to be on the wrong side of indoors during the rain with kilometers separating me from a hot cup of ceai (ceai here refers to "tea" in Romanian and "chai" the type of tea - which I'm almost out of ! Send more mom! Please! Make it Stash in the Red box!)

Last Monday I bought myself a bike. I miss my bike at home and putting into storage was one of the hardest things I had to do to get ready for the Peace Corps. So with the rest of my settling-in allowance I bought myself a red and sliver bicycel and it comes with a light and one of those carriage things in the back too. It's a very nice bike, but I think it deserves a better rider than me. For one thing I don't really know how to switch the gears. I just turn until the awful grinding crunching noises stop - Sorry bike! That's the only instruction I ever got in my life on switching gears. Further more I think it's a little short for me. I have to lean over too far to grip the handle bars and that puts a lot of weight on my hands - after the little adventure I'm about to share with you my hands were red and bruised from gripping the handle bars whereas I'm much more comfortable sitting up straighter with my hands lightly resting on the handle bars -rather than closing around them.

But its a good bike and as we're just getting to know each other I planned a ride for the Tuesday after I bought it. I wanted to go to Simeria, the next small town over which is only 3 Kilometers away. THat should be no problem, right? I'll also say that for being surrounded by large hills leading up to the Carpathian mountains, Deva the town is surprisingly flat - all the better for biking in my opinion. I pictured myself peddling along a vacant one lane road toward Simeria where I've been before in a Maxi Taxi. So I downloaded a yoga class for cyclists to do upon my return and headed out the door my bike in one hand, helmet on my head.

However, memory plays tricks on you and the road to Simeria (once I found it) isn't exactly a vacant one lane road but a four lane highway - which becomes a two lane highway but still - it was full of traffic - including Semi trucks which pass VERY close to you.

I must say, although I once rented a bicylce for one fabulous day in Florence, Italy, I've never really appreciated how difficult it is to ride a bicycle in a different culture where you don't know the rules of the road. In the United States I was never a master of bicylce saftey. I did a lot of stupid things, and I usually ride my bike on the sidewalk - it's how I get around. Deva is blessed with a lot of wide, SMOOTH, sidewalks, for walking but Romanians don't know what to do when someone rides up behind them on the sidewalk on a bike. They don't get out of the way. But I am too scared to take to the streets with my new bike. Eventually I did, though nervously, praying that once I got out of the city and started heading toward Simeria there would be less people staring at the big girl with the tiny red bike wearing a helmet. (I'm the only one I've ever seen in Deva with a bike helmet.)

This was not the case. There was ridiculous traffice between Deva and Simeria yesterday on a Friday afternoon. And I said I found myself peddling along a four lane highway thinking about all the death machines that were sneaking up behind me - silently I might add, praying that the shoulder was not too soft to send me spinning and the mud not too muddy. I realized the seat on my bike could be defined as some Post-Vlad-Tepest torture device. But that's not totally fair to the bike seat. There's also the rocks and many bumps in the shoulder and unpaved sections of shoulder. All I can say is "oh, my aching Sits bones." (Sits bones is a yoga thing).

In between Deva and Simeria is what looks like another town. A town with trecherously narrow sidewalks. Riding here is like riding a bike through an obstacle course - and not meant for someone with my depth perception or sense of panic. It was comforting to get onto a "sidewalk" sepearated from the dangerous "machine" (cars-plural) by a little fence, but this town's sidewalk was narrow, bumpy, and obscured by lumber trucks, huge piles of asphalt, and what appeared to be a ridge in the pavement actually upon closer inspection opened up and revealed itself to be a flight of stairs going down - I presume to hell. This town really made me miss riding Grayson, my Trek bike back in Fargo North Dakota, which I can't say is pedestrian friendly but is at least nowhere near as pedestrian endangering.

Once I made it through this challenge section of the course it was me versus two lanes of opposing traffic. Not so bad if I stayed on the shoulder and prayed - but then there was the whole issue of Semi's pulling on to the shoulder and turning (blindly) back onto the highway. I will admit it. I'm not a man. There were several obstacles too scary for me - I dared not try and manuever. I just got off the bike and walked around them. A

It was about this time as I walked my bike passed a traffice jam (between Deva and Simeria - ?) and up a hill and over the railroad tracks that I realized the wind was blowing something fierce. Into my face. I'd already postponed my bike ride for two days because of the two day flu - and another several hours because of a morning rainstorm. I have been concerned lately about my sedentary lifestyle which leads me to spend most of my day sitting in front of the computer - other than my daily yoga practice. I really wanted to go to Simeria and back. Until now I had been set on my goal. I'm going to do it - no excuses. And although there were times that my biking slowed considerably, I probably kept my heart rate pretty high for this whole adventure. But now -feeling like I'd risked death numerous times already with Me Versus Traffic, I noticed the sky over the purple shaded hills on the horizon behind me darkening. I smelled rain in the air. I'm sure I wasn't far from my destination, but nevertheless - more than halfway to Simeria I turned around.

As soon as I turned around I felt better. It was probably because I was coasting down a hill as I watched the lightening in the hills that I thought I could race the storm home. But I was in the middle of road construction when the rain hit. The only thing I cared about at that point was the fact that I was much closer to Deva than before. I was in fact, joyful, as I pettled my way down the now-familar streets as the rain came down. Thinking about getting caught in the rain on my camping trip, I kind of laughed a little. Then I remembered that THAT was nothing more than a consistent gentle summer rain. I was biking in what soon became a torrential downpour. I took comfort in the fact that I was back in the city, and my bike has a light on it - though it wasn't dark enough to actually help me see, it made me feel good to think people might be better able to see me - and I journeyed on. By now I'd reached the "Pothole" level of the obstacle course. Many roads in Romania have knee deep potholes in them - if you're not careful you could fall into one and ne'r be heard from again. But when the potholes are filled with water they are INVISIBLE! Once again rather than steer my new bicycle friend into danger, I climbed down and soaked a pair of shoes walking us around several would be dangers.

Have I mentioned this entire time I was thinking of nothing but the glass of iced tea I'd put in the freezer for myself before I left the house? That iced tea was calling me home since before I turned my bike around and headed back to Deva and as I pulled up to my apartment building my throat was the only part of me that was dry. I brought my bike inside the door only to hear my neighbor open her door to see what was going on in the hallway. I can't imagine what she thought when she saw her American neighbor carrying a 10speed bike up the stairs and soaking wet. I heard her say "oh my god. Go inside and take of your wet clothes! NOW!" I said. "I'm wet. Yes. Yes. I'm fine." and brought my bike into the apartment where I enjoyed several freezing cold glasses of iced tea - followed by a dry towel, a 10 minute yoga session and hot bath.

Even though I didn't make it to my destination - turned back shy of my goal - and got caught in the rain AGAIN - I didn't die on the side of the road, so I'm calling this adventure a sucess.

And for the record, next time I ride to Simeria I'm looking at a county map and trying to find a way to get there hopefully along back roads.

Watch This!

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps. This post has nothing to do with Peace Corps, or sadly Romania and I'm sure the U.S. goverment as an entire entity would never get together and deign to form an opinon on this post or this documentary. But you should see it!

I found this documentary This Film is Not Yet Rated by Kirby Dick, on this webpage: http://www.tv-links.co.uk/listings/9/5383

I've been wanting to see it for a while as I read about it in the Winter 2007 issue of Bitch Magazine it's something I reccommend you all see. It's about the process movies go through to get their ratings. Great points made about sex, voilence and interviews with Kevin Smith and John Waters.

No surprise, the ratings board slapped with an NC-17 to so be prepared to watch the out takes of other movies rated as such in a side by side comparison with movies rated R and PG 13.

I Finished It!!!!
Disclaimer: Spoilers, trying not to be!

Rest in Peace
Rapier, Romulous, "Dora", C.C., DB, the auror and the owl.

Also S.S. - a prince to us.

Camping (and not the kind that involves dressing up in costume)
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Last weekend went camping with the local branch of the Red Cross here in Deva with whom I've been doing some volunteering outside of the organization I was assigned to. Orginally the trip was supposed to be four days but it was shortened to three due to rain and it included a training in emergency first aid - in Romanian.

Day one included setting up camp - which I was not allowed to help with. After a lunch fit for a king of fried egg sandwhiches I brought along for the trip and a tomato, everyone not involved in the elaborate process of cooking a huge meal over a camp fire settled down for a nap under a tree in a meadow alongside a stream. It was a picturesque scene from one of my many daydreams - however when lying in bed pretending you're in a meadow it's easier to sleep without things crawling about under you. I very much enjoyed the shade and smell of the grass, but I did not sleep outside. It was a bit disappointing, because I also didn’t bring a book in English because I didn’t want to be rude or distracted from the opportunity to speak Romanian with people. Camping with people who didn’t want me to do any work would involve a lot of waiting.

This is the meadow where we had our first aid training which was accompanied by the grazing of some cows with a local farmer looking on.
The second day was to be a hike I almost didn't go on because I did't really understand the trail guide and I expected it to be the equivalent of climbing a steep hillside. I'm glad I did decide to go on the hike because it was actually just walking down a country road and I got to see some beautiful landscapes. We were just outside a town called Brad which is 31 Kilometers north west of Deva.

Everything was so beautiful and almost out of another time. Frequently walking down this road you'd be passed by a horse and cart or a farmer with a few cows. We often stopped for a snack of wild blackberries. It was just like all the hiking trails I took as a kid where I always pretended to be an animal or a character in a story on a journey, only now I could more easily believe it. I could have been a wandering minstrel or a traveling rouge. It was hard to believe that this was just a road in front of somebody's house, passing somebody's farm. I half expected to see a naked Paul Bettony stride around the corner at any moment.

Can you tell why I felt I was at the begining of a quest hiking down this road? I said I feel like I’m in Lord of the Rings walking down this road and many people agreed. Someone said “but we don’t have the music.” “It’s ok,” I said, “It’s playing in my head.”

I really admired the people I was hiking with because even when we started out it was drizzling a little. We even remarked upon that as we walked. How it felt good and added to the “olden time” quality of the excursion to just dismiss the rain. To say, hell with it, I’m getting wet. It was sprinkling intermittently and hard to tell the difference if it was rain or sweat. I will say, that if I was being wimpy even my camera was pain to carry, but luckily my Romanian friends insisted on carrying my water bottle and the jacket I wasn’t sure I wanted to bring on the hike.

We walked down the country road for 10 Kilometers (about six miles) then went off the road, down a hill, across a river and up another hill (this is where the climbing comes in) where there was no trail to see a cave. This was explained to me by one of my new friends who speaks very good english. She didn't want to see the cave that apparently you have to crawl into on your stomach because she is calustrophobic and she nominated me to stay outside with her. I was fine with that since getting to the cave (up the hill) sounded like a little bit more than I was up for.

I am becoming aware of the limitations of my camera. Despite my flash it was not this dark out. By the time we crossed the river it was raining in earnest. Not raining hard but raining steadily heavy drops. We who didn't want to see the cave so we waited under some trees for the rest of the group to come back. Again I was reminded of how often I’ve listened to the rain indoors and imagined myself to be a fox curled up in a hollow log, or asleep on some dry pine needles under a sturdy tree. However, this experience served to show me how silly this daydreams really are. When it rains in the forest, you get wet. Very wet. It wasn’t cold until we stopped moving and sat under our trees, but there was no doubt about it – we were saturated. Including the Red Cross jacket leant to me because I forgot my sweatshirt – and I had been so cold the nigh before I slept in the jacket in my sleeping bag. Not a chance of that again. The jacket wouldn’t be dry again for a long time.

When the others did come back it was decided that most of the group was continuing on to see another cave. Those wet-and-not-interested-in-caves like me went back to camp, where I crawled into my tent. Dried myself with somebody's hand towel they leant me. Put on every piece of dry clothing I had brought with me, and was given three swallows of ţuica because "it warms you," whence I promptly fell asleep for four hours and when someone came into the tent to see if I was Ok, he spoke English to me and I answered half asleep and drunk in Romanian.

After a while it stopped raining (thankfully or I wouldn’t have been able to leave my tent wearing every dry piece of clothing I had including my pajamas under my clothes) and I was able to warm myself by the cooking fire and eat a vegetarian dinner of bread, zacusca, tomatos and cheese – also hot cocoa and mint milk).

I feel like I was always the first in bed on this camping trip, while others stayed out till 4 am sitting by the campfire talking and playing music. Granted I wasn’t always the first one asleep. The second night however rain forced my tent-mates to join me sooner than usual and I had a peaceful – and surprisingly not so cold night of listening to the gentle rain and being thankful that for now at least I was dry.

The next morning I walked back down the trail to take some of the pictures I missed the day before while keeping pace with the group. I ate wild blackberries from the roadside for breakfast and drank of the cool refreshing stream water.

Sunday I also got to peel and slice potatoes for an amazing lunch of samale – and there was some sarmale fara carne (with out meat) my favorite Romanian dish, made special just for me! When I couldn’t possibly eat any more I was told to bring the whole pot home with me and just give it back to the Red Cross another day!
After lunch we packed up the camp and I was a little disappointed because at this point I was so in touch with nature – and also so dirty, I would have welcomed a little nude bathing in one of the clear deep pools in the stream we passed on our hike. I would have been so there if I’d only brought a towel! However we were soon on our way home and I got to take a long bath in my apartment followed by a hot cup of tea and soft mattress underneath me. Although I really enjoy the campfire, the sound of rain, the smell of the grass, and my time in communion with nature I think living in that grassy meadow by a stream is best left in my imagination.

Druid Laura

Virtual Tour of My Apartment

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps. The government maintains no official position on the cleanliness or messiness of my apartment.

Before
So I know I mentioned to some of you and in my last post the cleaning spree I went on upon moving into my new place almost three weeks ago. Once again not to take any thing away from the previous tennant or say he had "unclean" living habits, or anything - whatever - as long as he was happy. I'm just posting the before and after photos so you can see the results of my two-weeks work at carpet beating and scrubbing, new toliet seat installing, dusting, and furtiture rearranging - all this to take this place - and make it mine!

this is the opposite side of the front door - you try to get blogger to put your pictures in an order but what can you do?!
Like most Romanian apartments my refrigerator is in the hallway. This was the first thing you saw when you walked in the door.

this is the bedroom
also the bedroom complete with a lot of fake flowers but the door goes to a balcony so I can't complain.

was the living room set up


Ok, it won't let me write where I want, but this was the kitchen. All the dishes were clean when I moved in. Note the broken cabinet doors and the carpet - in the kitchen....

What the hell is this? That's right. This is the painting that was on the wall, painted by my landlord or my landlord's father of a Polar bear eating a guy - look at it closely - if you dare.

After

And now bask in the cleanliness and the girliness of the way I rearranged things. Notice no halway carpet anymore.

A fresh table cloth in here made a lot of difference. Also I took down those broken cabinet doors.

The kitchen began feeling cleaner as soon as I washed the curtains. The curtain in here doubles as a mosquito net since the kitchen is the only big window without a screen. I'm really lucky to have a kitchen of this size - with counter space. A nice big clean kitchen - complete with plants - makes me happy!

not a lot different in the bedroom other than i moved my stuff in, dusted and made the bed.
my new living room arrangement. This huge carpet, and the smaller carpet in the bedroom are the ones I beat and washed by hand on the balcony. The others - I threw away.

A picture of my computer showing me The Daily Show!

A picture of my incredibly awkward bathroom with half a meter of space between the sink and the washing mashine, and giant pipes with paint peeling off them in the shower. But hey, it works so I'm not complaining. I know there's no before picture to compare the bathroom to, and this is a hard bathroom to clean and have it look clean. I'm not saying the bathroom was dirty when I moved it because it wasn't. I'm saying the toliet seat was broken. So I bought a new one. Periwinkle blue. That thing on the sink is my Peace Corps water filter.

So what do you think of my apartment?

Fac curat (I clean!)

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Somehow my blog never seems as cool as I want it to be -I wanted to write this post when I was finished cleaning and settling in to my new apartment and post the before and after pictures, but as I still have the windows to do, and I'm hoping some guests at my Peace Corps apartment warming party will take things the former tennant left me off of my hands - those pictures will have to wait until after the weekend.

A few quick words about the former tennant (in case any of you readers who stumble accross this know him). I'm not intending to disrespect his living style in any way. He told me (he is an American and another Peace Corps volunteer who recently returned to the US) that he liked things "man clean" that is clean on the surface, but not nessecarily undereneath or behind. He wasn't thorough about his cleaning habits - and that's fine because from what I've been told about other male PCVs and their bathrooms his apartment was better than most in it's degree of cleanliness. Honestly.
Really, he's a good guy and I can say nothing against him.

But it's amazing the quanitity of dirt a person can live with for two years. I moved in on July 9th and spent 3 days that week cleaning nonstop. I've finally got things to about where I wanted them - but that said I've been planning this Cleaning (and I use the captial) for months. I think it's because after living with two different hosts for 5 months it's time for me to mark out a space of my own, and to really claim my territory I need to scrub it within an inch of it's life. Or maybe it's because in my two months on site so far I've accomplished absolutely nothing for my organization and I just wanted to take on a project where hard work would produce tangible results.

So I swept the floors (about four times.) Don't think dust bunnies, think dust Stegasauruses. At first I was thinking I would move all the furniture and sweep behind and under it. Some of that I managed, but the furniture for communist bloc style apartments is meant to go up against a wall and never be moved and I could potentially kill myself trying - so as far as my broom fits under the peices that I'm sure haven't been moved in 40 years, I swept.

I dusted, and mopped (the wood floors too. Twice.) I cleaned the fridge, scoured the oven and washed the curtains. I bought and installed a new toliet seat and I killed most of the mold in the bathroom. (I originally intended to scrub the floors with a brush but I now think that would be less effective than mopping them. However I don't think my mop was intended to work this hard because after I mopped the wood floor in the living room twice because I wasn't satisfied it was clean I started finding peices of my aparently suicidal mop on the floor.)

Then I beat the rugs. Oh yes, I beat them. A vacuum cleaner is an extravagance a Peace Corps volunteer can't afford and besides the cheap ones about 200 lei that I could splurge on, I'm told break rather quickly. So the big rug I beat for almost two hours. (Two of the rugs I decided weren't worth the trouble and I put them in the hallway and the landlord took them away) but the other two I beat the hell out them and then I washed them on the balcony last Saturday morning using carpet shampoo, a scrub brush and a special pour-water-off-the-balcony-onto-the-carpet-and-hope-the-downstairs-neighbors-don't-notice technique. (I'll probably never wrestle a wet carpet of that size alone again. I don't know how much it weighs wet but keeping it from falling off the balcony into the mud I created below was a task!)

Some things I learned about rug beating (other than it's a pain in the ass): 1)You'll never get all the dust off the rug so you have to give yourself a time limit like I'm beating this rug for 1 hour and that's it. 2) If you're not careful on the downward swing your nuckles make contact with the carpet. It takes about two times to break the skin off. If you don't adjust after that you will bloody your kuckles. I haven't figured out how to avoid the blisters from holding the baton.

After that I scrubbed the bathroom with tea tree oil, vinegar and baking soda - my favorite all natural earth friendly cleaning products. Low environmental impact - gaurenteed to disinfect your wounds all while stinging a great deal, but hey, I didn't get an infection!

As I said, now I have the windows to do and then I'm having guests over for a apartment-warming party slash rummage sale benefiting the Gender and Development committe. Soon I'll post the pictures of my new place and then I'll fill you in on what else I've been doing in June and July!

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

http://www.greatcosmichappyass.com/

Just wondering

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

For you guys at home, I'm just wondering, are you having to deal with hearing this Justin Timberlake song "It Comes Around" or whatever EVERY FIVE MINUTES too? Or is that just the hot thing here right now? The video is interesting. It's not a bad song. It's just Way Over Played.
Or maybe it's just the fact that my counterpart is playing that and the Enrique Iglesias song "Hero" on a constant loop.

Gender and Development Laura

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps. Neither the U.S. government or the Peace Corps think it’s funny that Barbie is giving you the finger. That’s just me. And it’s only because I couldn’t find a better picture.

I wanted to find a picture of “feminist” Barbie doll or "Progressive Barbie" to indicate that “gender and development Laura” is just one face of who I am and what I do, but perhaps because “feminism” the belief that men and women deserve equal treatment – what Gloria Steinem once said is really “humanism” means so many different things to different people, no such picture exists. Alas, this is the closest I could come.

But I’m not just trying to justify posting a picture of Barbie giving you the finger when I ask you to think about this image-ask yourself why? She’s been called the “perfect girl” (woman? I’ve never heard Barbie referred to as a woman – and why not? She’s nearly 50.) She’s been called a “bitch.” She is mass produced to always be beautiful, always smiling, always dressed immaculately. She should have everything she could want. What reasons does she have to give you the finger? What about life in our time does Barbie have to be dissatisfied with? - I ask you.*
In 50 words or less.

In May, I was elected to the Gender and Development Committee Board. There were 3 openings on the board and I believe only two of them were designated for my volunteer “class.” However Group 22 members swept the board and were elected to all three of the open spots. As a board member I get reimbursed for travel to go to meetings which is a good thing because the locations rotate around the country, but any PCV can attend them. Last weekend was my first meeting.

The Gender and Development committee of Romania is 10 American volunteers, and 10 Romanian members, many representing organizations whose mission has to do with gender equality. We have sub-committees dealing with Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Rights, Women’s Health and Anti-trafficking, Domestic Violence, and our Camps.

GAD helps interested volunteers coordinate summer camps for teens called either Girls Leading Our World (GLOW) or Teaching Our Boys to Excel (TOBE). They are a kind of empowerment program for young people, teaching life skills, and about healthy relationships, sexuality, self-confidence, and leadership. GLOWE and TOBE camps have spread to other Peace Corps countries, but the idea originated right here in Romania.

GAD is an excellent forum for volunteers and Romanians to network on issues of gender, sexuality, equality, health and safety, prevention of domestic violence, etc.
The committee does some of its own fundraising so people with projects that coincide with the group’s mission can apply for some funding. (And since I know you’re all interested in how you can contribute to the work of the GAD committee Romania, stay tuned for how you can purchase your very own 2008 GAD Romania Calendar featuring the results of the Peace Corps Romania photography contest! Makes a great Christmas gift!)

Our meeting was all day Saturday in Ploieşti the city where I had my pre-service training so the newest class of volunteers in training could attend. (Group 23-ahhh! I’m not in the freshman class anymore!) It was a great meeting with a lot of ideas for upcoming projects. I finally got to mention to other volunteers in public forum my “I have a dream” idea for a youth summer camp based on “celebrating our differences.” The idea is young, but growing…Another idea of mine, relatively simple, just taking a program I attended in the dorms in Stevens Point and bringing it to Romania may be featured in the next issue of GAD’s quarterly newsletter “Beyond Gender.”

This is very exciting for me because so far I’ve spent a lot of my time at site researching ideas and gathering resources for projects I might do or other peace corps volunteers might do – and not much else. It was really nice to see and talk to some of my friends from training after a month apart, to meet some other volunteers I only knew through email until now, and most of all to share my resources and knowledge and get some feedback on my ideas.

All in all it was a fun and fulfilling weekend and I returned to Deva on Sunday with fresh energy for projects I hope to implement in the future. Actually I returned to Deva after an 8 hour train ride hot and sweaty and hungry as hell, but also full of motivation – and after a shower and a meal I was and ready to resume research and sharing of resources. (Some people call that emailing people all day-but I call it sharing resources.)

I am also making in-roads with another organization in Deva called Connexiuni which serves women in several capacities.

This weekend I’m off to attend a high school one-act play festival, because you can take the girl out of the theatre, but you can’t take the theatre out of the girl, or that’s my theory anyway. More later about the high school drama camp in Oradea later this summer where I will be a “leader.”

* I am just trying to justify posting this picture.

Where's the Love?

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps, especially this post which has nothing to do with the Peace Corps at all.

"You are Ennis's daughter Alma Jr. Your father hurt you a lot with his neglect when you were young but you were desperate to have a relationship with him no matter what. Despite your pain you grew into a beautiful young woman mature enough to see your father for the sad old man he is. Too bad you’re still stupid enough to get married at 19. Good luck! "

Creepy. I honestly wasn't thinking that much about MY "What Character are you in Brokeback Mountain Quiz?" as a personality test when I wrote it. I was just thinking about my own personal analysis of the characters. I don't claim to that is in anyway an accurate personality test - just another way for my to express my favorite pasttime: Analysing Brokeback Mountain.

I know some of you have taken the quiz, but only Nicole has posted the results on her blog. Come on guys! I know it's stupid and it's like so 2005, but I WROTE this quiz. Granted I wrote it in my notebook last spring and just now posted it on the internet. And I wrote it mostly out of inside jokes and obscure references to the short story, but still. I just want you to post the results on your blogs so I could feel cool for a few minutes. Even if you already emailed me what character you are. I just want to SEE it.

And if you haven't taken MY QUIZ yet, to do so, here's the link. http://www.quizilla.com/users/000lunchbox/quizzes/What%20Character%20in%20Brokeback%20Mounatin%20Are%20You?/

Sarah, Chris, Humphrey, Andy - You guys who never update this means you! I know you're all busy but I want to hear from you. I miss you all. And give me comments! I need love, guys!

Ok, now I'm done whining.

Should it matter?
Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Peace Corps will reimburse me to have a language tutor. This is a very good idea because learning the language is critical to our community integration. In fact my class is the first class in Romania that's required to have a language tutor and we're regularly tested on our language ability. When I found this out I was very excited because I wanted to remain very motivated to continue to study and improve my Romanian.

So why am I dreading each session with my tutor? Well, there are a lot of reasons I find learning Romanian from one particular person frustrating. It can't be easy when you're used to teaching a foriegn language (English) to high school kids to suddenly find yourself teaching your native language to a foriegner. Especially when this person taught themselves english and speaks it textbook correctly (or so I'm told). To an American English speaker (generally more fluent in slang) this can sound either funny or pretty weird. But what can I do? I haven't studied English grammar. If you say "present imperfect" in English I don't know what you're talking about. And no, I can't explain the difference between "kind of" and "sort of" - but there is a difference.

But despite having my English grammar corrected, there are other conflicts about the nature of the curriculum. This person insists that I learn formal Romanian because the informal kind is spoken by people who don't have a very good education. (And it was implied that maybe I picked up some of my informal Romanian from my new gazda). This person explains grammar to me in Romanian, and speaks to me so fast it's clearly assumed I understand everything, when at the same time I'm offered the most basic excercises - as if I didn't understand any Romanian at all.

But there's another issue here too that goes beyond language. When this person asked me to write an essay the topic was given "Why are some people successful and others are not?" This person went on to describe for me the reasons and I was supposed to translate them into Romanian. The reasons given were some people are lazy and unwilling to try things that will bring them economic success. I decided this was not a topic for an essay I was willing to write - in Romanian or in English.

Once we were interrupted by someone who rang the bell and asked if they could take out the garbage. People "Beggers" come to the door and ask if they can take out your garbage for money - it was explained to me. Do you have beggers in the U.S? Well, yes, but they don't offer to take out your garbage (something I would seriously consider depending on how much garbage there is - as this person lives on the 4th floor). This person proceeded to complain to me about all the people who didn't have jobs and were unwilling to work. Apparently it hadn't occured to this person that the man at the door was willing to take out her garbage - and that's more than sitting on the street with a cup begging for money.

My language tutor is someone I find on my own who agrees to teach me and I pay them the Peace Corps designated hourly rate and am reimbursed for it. It's up to me for the first time ever to hire or fire someone. This person, in our various meetings has whether intentionally or untentionally made it very clear to me that they do not need this money. I don't know if I would call this person "rich" - because we all have our own stereotypes and expectations of what it means to be rich. And of course different cultural definitions come in to play. By no stretch of the imagination would you consider this person "rich" by American standards.

There have been assumptions made by this person about how much money I have - which is fine - I was prepared to encounter the Rich American stereotype. But I just wonder if I wouldn't be happier employing someone who actually needed the money.

Why am I so uncomfortable working along side a Romanain who is actually "doing well?" I do want Romanians and Romania to be doing well. Is it true that I just have an aversion to money and people with money - even if they seem to like me?

This person has always been nice to me - and offered to take me out of town on a day trip to another local city and even invited me to go on vacation to Egypt together (assuming I could afford it). This person is not a bad person. We're just different. Going to a huge all-inclusive resort is not my idea of a fun vacation. I'll probably never go on a cruise because flushing my toliet in the ocean just isn't cool to me. I'm not interested in immitation designer handbags.

And apparently this person is even willing to tutor me out of the goodness of their heart - because when I explained the hourly rate at which Peace Corps allows me to pay a tutor (which has just been raised actually) I was told I wouldn't find anyone to teach me for that amount and for that amount this person may as well just watch TV. This person went on to explain that they would teach me anyway just because they like me.

I mean, I guess it really shouldn't matter. And I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't be feeling so strongly about this if this person were also a better teacher for me.

Weeee Want to suck your Bloood!

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps. In any case the U.S. government can not be held responsible for the mosquitos in Romania and they gave me a mosquito net, and I left it in Ploiesti. And there are no vampires in Romania. That was a joke.

A few words about Romanian mosquito bites. They're not like the mosquito bites I'm used to in the U.S. - or at least not until day 3. These demonic mosquito bites swell up to between the size of a quarter and a 50cent peice (I'm glad that means something to someone reading this) and they feel like a bruise if you poke them. And they ITCH like hell! But, like a spider bite at home as soon as you give in to their desire for sweet scratching - they burn. They also don't go away. After a few weeks of alternately giving in and scratching them, and plying them with hydrocortizone cream they turn to dark brown spots on the skin and feel like nothing but look like bruises. I have 12 serious mosquito bites (itchy ones) right now - and two weeks ago I also counted 12 which had just turned into brown spots.

The problem with the mosquitos right now is it's hot! It's like 89 degrees everyday - so I want to open the window - but the the windows have no screens. If I leave the window open invariably we have a thunderstorm eventually (like every night) and then the mosquitos come out to play! If I have the window closed - I try to sleep and wake up multiple times due to hot sweatiness - AND mosquitos buzzing in my ear. The situation isn't helped by the fact that the window - when you close it doesn't stay closed.

Now Peace Corps did issue me a mosquito net when I left Ploiesti - we all laughed and thought it was a joke. We're in Romania we said, not Nicaragua! What do we need mosquito nets for? It was this line of thinking that caused me to leave my mosquito net at my old gazdas house to come back for it at my earliest convience do to the fact that it wouldn't fit in my luggage. However - that said I don't even think the mosquito net would do me much good right now. I mean - I'm going to need it in my apartment in July even if i had it - cutting it up and making a window screen out of it now wouldn't be the best idea.

Over the weekend I finally bought more little pouches of mosquito repllent that go in the aparazat zanzare (picture a plug-in air freshener) but as I was sitting in my room reading with the window closed and the door closed it occured to me if they weere already in the room they had nowhere to be repelled to. But I didn't care. I was itchy enough to sleep with the window closed and deal with the heat but I still killed 6 of those little buggers. Granted in the early morning while it was light out enough to find them in the room and they were all filled with blood so I can assume they'd already bitten me.

However Saturday night was the first night I wasn't awakened by them buzzing in my ears in the middle of the night taunting me - begging me to hunt them down and kill them. At first I wondered if I should feel bad about killing them - especially when they'd already bitten me - I mean damage done, right? But I couldn't let them live to lay thier eggs and breed more little monsters. This is kill or be killed and I can't let them live to continue to prey on me. I did draw the line though at killing the other harmless nonmosquito bugs that fly in through the window. They haven't done anything to harm me. When I started to wonder if the harmless flies were giving aid and comfort to the mosquitos hidden in the room I wondered if I was losing it. That, followed by the war trama of flinching at the imaginary buzzing of the mosquito qhosts.

But I have had some suceess and being that I haven't been woken up by them for two consectutive nights now - we're going to try to night to repell them back out the open window. That's right I'm sleeping with the window open! No more waking up with hair so wet you'd think I'd just taken a shower. I have mosquito repellant and a prayer. And if that doesn't work...more hydrocortizone cream.

Just be warned. If there are vampires in Romania I'm willing to bet they don't disquise themselves as bats. They go has mosquitos.

Noi suntem voluntarii (we are volunteers)!

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps, even if I'm quoting what the Peace Corps told me I mean it in a good way.

Hello, the city of Deva! I’ve been meaning to post about our official volunteer Swearing In Ceremony which took place a week ago Friday May 4th. It was beautiful, exciting, emotional, and had all the gravitas of graduation and all the flowers, balloons, and pretty shoes of prom.

Now, it seems like it was a while ago after arriving in my city last Sunday and everyday making my way to the office of my organization to spend time on the computer researching, gathering resources, and in general thinking about how to make my way in this organization in this city.

Of course I have big plans, but big plans need to be built on a foundation and I’m starting from the ground up (or below the ground if the ground is where native Romanians beging with their understanding of the language and knowledge of which cheese to buy.)

I’m trying to let go of American cultural norms that say I have to be at work at a certain time every day and accomplish something for every day I show up. This is a process that’s going to happen slowly, and now –after all the laughter, tears, and Romanian language homework of PST- I’m right at the beginning.

If this were LOTR, after swearing in - I’d be right about at the Council of Elrond, but the beginning of the chapter, before the actual council starts.

Let me quote some material Peace Corps has given us on what to expect our first month at site:

“Romania is a transitioning country. Things are different here in many ways from what you are used to at home. Some of these differences will be frustrating. The banking system and the post office are challenges for outsiders. There are public safety hazards that will require your attention: large holes in the streets and sidewalk go unmarked, the pavement and sidewalks is often uneven, vehicular traffic is unpredictable, people often drive on the wrong side of the street and on sidewalks. During the winter snow and ice removal is limited. Other frustrations include being overcharged for services. You will need to learn to be vigilant; no one is going to protect you from these frustrating and discouraging things.”

While, I have found all of these things to be true, I know that the rest of the advice Peace Corps has given me is also true – that a good experience at site requires attention and participation – even diligence.

Diligent I can be, but first I have to figure out how - once I find a Romanian tutor, find my way around town, find my way to a sandwich, but first I have to negotiate the day to day with my second gazda (she’s a dear) and convince my coworkers who take good care of me that I can walk home from the office by myself.

I feel like even finding my way to something I can work diligently on will take time. And it will. And that’s ok because what I got right now is time.

First day of training in Ploiesti

Last day of training in Ploiesti right before the party (notice my new Romanian shirt, and my Romanian haircut).
the journey begins

Watch one of my colleges speeches at our swearing in ceremony on youtube in two parts. I recorded it with my digital camera but the file was too big to post in one chunk. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgJaCo2ojKQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjo0WgqG_6E

Remembering a sunny day in April (on a cloudy day in May)

As promised here are the additional pictures of our Activity Day in the park with Casas Austria and Eva.
Nothing gets your blood, (and teamwork skills) flowing like a good game of Blob Tag!

A volunteer and his new best friend from Casa Austria
Casa Austria demonstrates the wheelbarrow race
The talented kids of Casa Austria show us their karate skills

Our favorite Peace Corps volunteer and her favorite little boy

Volunteers and children team up for the three legged race!