Serenade the World from Inside my Soul

There are moments living in Moldova, that I forget that I'm in such a poor country.  I forget that I'm privileged.  I don't say this with arrogance or pride, but almost ashamed of how blessed I am.

It hasn't always been the easiest decision to pursue the life that the Lord has called me to, but I have so many resources to fall back on. Here, it's just not so.

Today, I had a humble, stark reminder of the poverty Moldovans face.

I stayed at the office today for lunch break and ate my tupperware of chili while talking with my Moldova coworkers.  I walked in the kitchen as they were discussing proposals of how to celebrate Christmas as an office.  Suggestions included bowling, ice-skating, and sauna and massages, and of course, pizza.

But as the kitchen cleared out, I entered into more discussions about Moldova with one of my coworkers, Dan.  Dan speaks English quite well, and he shares honestly and willingly all about Moldova.  So today we were discussing our apartments and neighbors and that led to a discussion about the job situation in Moldova.  Dan asked me what a normal salary might be at a bank in the States.  To be honest, I hate answering questions like this, because I selfishly can't bear seeing the longing when Moldovans hear the amounts.  I explained that it varies a lot based on your position, but the lowest salary would probably be close to $24,000 a year.  He processed that for a minute, and then said, "Two thousand a month.  Is this enough for a good life?" And then I had to be honest and say no, it would be very little.  A good salary for a family would be between $35,000 and $60,000, with $60,000 to $90,000 for someone with lots of experience.

And I know, I underquoted.  Dan explained that the salary of a police officer might be $200-250 a month, but that this is a low-paying job.  Still, he explained that even for him, now having a wife and family and responsibilities, most of his income goes towards bills and rent each month.  Just for the sake of perspective, I'm living off something between $400-500/month and that's just my figures on expenses, not planning for any savings or emergency funds.

He then asked how much apartments would be in the States.  I told him that where I was during university, students paid anywhere from $300-600/month.  He asked if this was on credit (like a mortgage), and I explained that with an apartment you typically pay monthly to the apartment complex owner.  He was surprised.  As we finished our meals and went back to work, he repeated to himself, "$300-$600."    


~ Redeemed and very blessed






*Title from Melody by Kate Earl

World Maps

Dearest Friends,

WARNING: This post may be completely unintelligible, scatter-brained, and confusing.  Too many thoughts are crowding my mind.  I fear they might not all make it out in an orderly fashion.

We have snow (we, as in all of us here in Chisinau)!  The first snowfall came on Nov. 27, the day we celebrated Thanksgiving!  It was beautiful, and the perfect backdrop to a busy morning of cooking and a long delightful afternoon with friends and lots of food.  More on Thanksgiving in a bit.

Since then, we've had snow four or five times.  The heaviest snowfall came last weekend.  Moldova has a vibrant International Women's Club, and each year the IWC hosts a charity bazaar.  Embassies, international organizations (including the UN and EU representation), and various other NGOs set up booths and sell food, crafts, and trinkets representing their cause or country.  All the earnings go to a few specially selected projects that the IWC has been involved with.

Suz and I had been planning on going for weeks, but some Saturdays even the best plans aren't enough to wake us early.  Regardless, we decided to brave the cold rain and head out.  After waiting longer than usual for a rutiera, we rode the minibus as near to the Moldexpo (creative, huh?) as we could, and then splashed our way across the block and up the street.  After discovering that my brown boots are definitely not waterproof, we found refuge from the cold at our destination.  The expo was pretty crowded, but it was exciting to see such a large turnout for a good cause.  We visited the booths of our native lands. I had a delicious cup of coffee (starbucks!) from my dear ole USA booth.  Feeling rather patriotic, and maybe a tad homesick, I even bought a miniature American flag....it only cost me one lei (about 8 cents).

The entertainment included various soloists and dances performed by two different groups of kids.  The kids were precious! Some of them were so focused on getting every move correct, and others looked like they were having a blast.  At some point during the performance, some little girls were giggling behind me.  I didn't think anything of it, until I suddenly realized I could understand what they were saying, and it wasn't because my Romanian has improved.  It's funny to me how strange and out of place one's native tongue becomes after becoming used to hearing foreign languages constantly.

After the raffle, where I didn't win two free nights in Prague, we headed to Malldova (come on, you know you love the names here) to do some shopping.  Malldova is really nice.  In fact, it's bigger than the malls in Charleston and near home.  Currently walking around in cold wet boots, I was determined to find some snow boots.  After a few hours of hunting, I finally found a new jacket (waterproof too!) and some snowboots.

Confession: I love high heels.  What?  I'm short, and they're classy.

Snow boots, however, don't normally have high heels.  So to rectify the loss of elegance, I was about to succumb to, I decided to find a pair in a fun color.  I found the PERFECT pair.  Cute, simple, purple...I mean, come on!  Then I realized they were children's shoes.  Don't worry, I still tried a pair on, but i ended up with a more practical pair of black boots.  The furry lining and the "Queen" logo in shiny silver on the purple boots probably wouldn't have helped my attempt at maintaing an adult image, anyways....

When I stepped outside of the mall, I discovered that the rain had turned to snow.  The snow was coming down in sheets. I had to shield my face to try and make out the bus numbers!  Despite my nearly frozen boots, my excitement and sheer fascination with this snow convinced me to stop and take a few pictures.  I will post those soon!

I started this post a few days ago.  Today happens to have been the most snowfall we have had so far.  Snow fell from the time I woke up this morning (about 9 am) until at least 4:30 pm!  Weather reports say it snowed for much longer than that.  Either way, we have a much thicker blanket of snow out and the cold air to keep it (feels like 10 F)!  

Warm wishes from Moldova :)

~ Redeemed

Special Christmas Request

Dearest Friends, 

I mentioned in an earlier post that my organization had some difficulties importing with importing the new car.  As we enter the holidays, I have a special request in regards to that.  Living in Eastern Europe has deepened my appreciation for the freedoms I enjoy as an American and made me realize how comfortable my life is in comparison to the millions living in poverty around the world. These past few months have shown me how blessed I truly am, and it's my hope that as we celebrate the gift of our Savior this Christmas, you would join me in sharing our blessings.  

Travel from the villages into Chisinau, the capital city of Moldova, is costly and time-intensive for many Moldovans.  The micro-finance organization I am working with, Invest-Credit, tries to eliminate some of these difficulties for our clients by going to visit them in their own villages. In order to do this, Invest-Credit purchased a small diesel car from Germany.  The process of obtaining a passport and visa for a Moldovan to travel outside of the country can take weeks, so I was asked to fly to Germany and drive the car back to Moldova.  I made it safely across Europe with the car.  However, an error in the customs paperwork resulted in Invest-Credit paying almost $1,000 in fines to bring the car into Moldova. 

This is a significant sum of money for our small organization.  As a part of the importing process, I feel responsible for some of the confusion resulting in the paperwork error.  I am working now to raise money to be able to offset this cost.   If you would like to contribute, please mail your gift to P.O. Box 51, Metter, GA 30439.  Simply put “Invest-Credit Christmas” on the memo line.  My parents will deposit the amount into an account that I can withdraw from here, and then I will present all donations to our executive director.  A donation of any size would be greatly appreciated! If you are unable to contribute at this time, I ask for your prayers for Invest-Credit and the work they are doing in Moldova.  Thank you so much!  May this holiday season be a time of much joy for you and your family! 

Crăciun fericit! Merry Christmas!

 ~ Redeemed

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is please!” Luke 2:14

Promised Pics :)

This one is from the square we walked through right before the Market in Munich.....the clock had dancing figurines in the center.

       

European Roadtrip!!!

Hello dear friends :)

My past week was quite the adventure.  Ok, you're thinking: Emily, you moved halfway around the world to a developing country knowing no one and  not speaking any of the four languages.  Of course your life is an adventure!


You're right...BUT this week held a whole new adventure for me!

Last Tuesday, Brandon (the other intern) and I had a meeting with our director to go over some of our projects. Before we left, he said he had something to ask Brandon.  He then proceeded to explain how the ability of our loan officers to make trips into the villages to meet with solidarity groups and clients was extremely beneficial to our clients, but that using the mobile office to visit only a few clients wasn't cost effective. Our organization decided that purchasing a small car for one or two loan officers to use at a time would save us quite a bit.  Ghena had picked out a car in Moldova, but it was an old car with a few problems. He had also found a few in Germany that were comparably priced and in much better condition.

We thought he was about to ask Brandon to put together a spreadsheet or funding proposal.  Instead he explained,"We need this car before the winter months.  I could go get it, but the visa and papers will take a month at least for me to be able to leave.  It is much easier for you.  You have an American passport.  Would you be willing to go to Germany and drive the car back?"

Stunned silence followed.  And then,"Yeah, of course!" And I couldn't resist, "Can I go too?"  He said that our company can only afford to pay for one person to go, but if I could pay for my flight to Germany I could go.  I was all aboard!

Then we realized this meant we could be living in two days.  TWO DAYS!!!

We picked a flight to Germany, and I called my friend at Moldovan Air.  The system here is a bit funny, as you have to pay in person and with cash.  Everything went pretty smoothly!

Thursday around noon we flew out of Chisinau and arrived a couple of hours later in Munich, Germany.  The first thing we noted was the cold!  It was a lot colder than the weather in Chisinau had been.  Then we unashamedly gaped and stared in wonder at all the little things that differentiate a developed country from a underdeveloped country and Western Europe from Eastern Europe: clean streets, solid construction, modern buses, more and more cars, coffee shops (without instant coffee), the scarcity of street merchants, racial diversities, Christmas decorations.  Sigh, it was wonderful.

Oh, and Starbucks.  There were Starbucks, and I was happy.  :)

Whew, sorry, got lost in daze remembering it....anyways, we were completely confused about the train system but eventually, with the help of numerous gracious and pleasant Germans, we had our tickets printed, a list of our trains and departure times, and were headed into the city center.  We had a few hours to explore the city, so we wandered around in what appeared to be a very Middle Eastern area of town before we got straightened out and directed towards the Mac store.  The store was located in a beautiful shopping district full of elegant stores, trimmed with Christmas decorations,and bustling with well-bundled pedestrians.  I'm afraid I may have pointed out and dazzled over every single Christmas decoration.  Brandon was persuaded to appreciate more decorations than he probably intended too, but we agreed that Germany is definitely the place to experience the Christmas season.

We were able to find the Mac store, and though, no one was free to work with my Macbook, they were able to tell me which software I needed.  One step closer to restoring my mac!

We spent a little more time walking through the shopping district and then headed back to the train station.  The plan was to take the night train to our destination in northern Germany, so we decided to spend the last few hours enjoying the Starbuck's in the train station.  Oh, yummy, yummy Starbuck's.  It was so good.  I'll be honest, I'm not a diehard Starbuck's fan, and I do feel a twinge of guilt sometimes at my willingness to pay so much, but this was a moment to enjoy our blessings.  We, a bit jokingly, thought we might find the Starbuck's in each country we drove through and could use them as our stopping points.  Turned out to be a pretty interesting idea.  There weren't going to be anymore in the German cities we passed through, but there would be some in Vienna.  We discovered that the only Starbuck's in Hungary opened June 15th in Budapest (conveniently already on our route), and there was one Starbuck's in one of the nothern Romanian towns we would pass through (all the rest are in the southern part of Romania).

The night train wasn't as conducive to sleeping as we had thought.  We had to switch trains three times, so at least one of us had to stay alert enough to make sure we got off at the right stops and caught our next train.  It may sound corny or like I'm trying too hard, but in all honesty, it's by God's grace that we caught every train. Twice we were waiting at one platform for our train, only to discover that the message over the loudspeaker had been explaining that the train was arriving at at different platform.  Somehow, we always decided to go ask and would end up on the train with a few minutes to spare.

We arrived early in Holzminden, Germany.  Too early for the car dealership to be open, in fact.  Our twenty minute walk in the frosty air had woken us up though, so we walked a bit more and found a great German bakery/cafe that served a yummy hot breakfast.  When I was ordering, I noticed that scrambled eggs came as a meal, but, not wanting a full meal, I asked how I could get just eggs.  Not all things are lost in translation as one of the servers teasingly responded, "From a chicken."  The manager turned out to be English though and kindly helped translate my request.

Once we were able to pick up the car and had the paperwork completed, our roadtrip began!  Brandon handled the autobahn; I handled the TomTom.  Pitiful, I know, but my experience with driving a stick shift wasn't adequate enough for me to want to take someone else's car out on the autobahn.  Germany was beautiful!!!  We drove through the countryside from Holzminden down through Nuremburg and then over to Lizt, Austria.  We did stop near Nuremburg to purchase some items for our boss and his wife at an Aldi.  The Aldi's have a brilliant little device that persuades customers to put return their shopping carts when they leave. You insert a Euro in a slot in order to be able to use a buggy, and then when you put the buggy back, if you lock it back up then you receive your Euro back.  Brilliant.

Brandon's Americana experience involved Burger King.  I'll admit it was pretty good, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like we were back in our beautiful USA.

We slept in the car at a really nice rest area near the border of Germany and Austria. The funniest thing to us was that you had to pay to use the bathrooms and showers.  But I discovered that you could take your ticket from the bathroom and receive a discount on a cup of coffee.  70 cent bathroom ticket - 50 cent on a cup of coffee = not a bad deal because you were going to get that cup of coffee anyways....

Neither of us slept very well though, because of the cold.  We would fall asleep for an hour or two, only to wake up shivering, crank up the car, let the heat build up, and then turn the car off again and sleep for another hour.  This was our process for three nights.  It definitely gave me a better appreciation for my Chisinau apartment with its government regulated heating and much more sympathy for those in Peru with no blankets during the winter, those on the streets in Charleston, and those in unheated homes in Moldova and other places around the world.

I'll admit I slept through most of the Austrian countryside, but it was foggy so I couldn't really appreciate the scenery had I been awake.  We drove through the center of Vienna, located the Starbucks and refueled.  Vienna was massive, packed with modern industry and classical architecture, rich with art, history, and life.  Both of us want to return to explore the city more.  Oh, side note, Brandon was somehow deprived of The Sound of Music, so I briefed him on the story as we passed through Austria.  I'm not sure he fully appreciates it yet.

As we entered Hungary, Eastern European elements melded together with Western Europe.  We passed through small town after small town.  Budapest, upon first arriving, seemed to be a large industrial city.  Dirty and built up.  But as we neared the center of the city, magnificent buildings appeared before us.  We passed over the bridge that literally ties together two former towns, Buda and Pest, and decided that we had to find our way back to the waterfront to explore this city a bit.  We parked at the mall (home to our Starbucks stop) and weaved our way back to the water front.  We took quite a few pictures (I'll upload those soon, I promise), and on our way back stumbled upon a large Eastern Orthodox church.  Some street musicians were performing on the steps, and I captured some video of their music.  Really like it.  We then entered the church.  It was strange to see the payments for incense and candles, portions of the church roped off for tourists.  And it struck me as I entered,  The God I know doesn't dwell here.  He dwells within me. He dwells within living tabernacles, not in the works of men's hands but in the works of His own hands.  
It seems so sad, so heartbreaking sad that people may spend their whole lives devotedly dropping coins in the   box next to the candles and praying to the saints, but never know the True and Living God.

As we headed back towards the Mall, we stopped to find some Hungarian food (we had about one meal a day and had snacks from the Aldi the rest of the time).  We decided on gyros, and when we went to pay the server, he looked at our money and made a really funny face and then looked at us rather confused.  Did we not pay the right amount?  He asked us, "What is this?"  We asked, "Is it not right?"  He finally explains, "I don't know what this is.  This is not Hungarian money." Turns out the guy we exchanged some Euro with didn't exchange them with Hungarian dollars, but Peruvian.  Ah, add that one to the books.

When we entered Romania we were definitely back in Eastern Europe.  Small towns with dirt streets (except for the main street we were on), horse-drawn buggies, fields, roaming cows, stray dogs.  There were a few bigger cities though.  Our last Starbuck's was in Cluj-Napoc.  We were relieved to see the prices come back down again (Vienna had been expensive, and we didn't actually get anything from the Starbuck's in Hungary). The city, for the most part, was very much Eastern European, but when we entered the mall, we were blown away.  It was massive and modern.  Very western.  In fact, much bigger and nicer than some of the malls in Savannah and Charleston.  The most unique element was the market on the first floor.  Our guess is that it was a special Sunday market, as it was comprised of tables of antiques, soviet relics, and art pieces.  There were some really interesting pieces to see.

Another town we stopped in was much smalled than Cluj-Napoc.  Reghin is a town known for its production of quality instruments.  Brandon had heard of a travel guitar made by Hora, and he was hoping we could find them.  I was hoping to find a hammered dulcimer or some smaller instrument.  We had looked up the address before, but Gunther (our GPS) didn't recognize it.  So we set about asking random Romanians for directions. Three different times and two hand drawn maps later, we found Hora....or at least the factory.  And, being Sunday, the factory was closed.  So no guitar or harps, but another scenic detour as I like to call them.

We had to cross the Carpathian Mountains to go across Romania.  I was completely content to leave the driving around perilous curbs to Brandon.  At some points, it just seemed like we were driving through the countryside, and then suddenly we would be going up a mountain on narrow roads.  The drops weren't always that bad, but the curves in the road, oh me.  The arrowed signs in the States indicate a nice round curve with a wide angle turn.  Not so in Romania.  An arrowed sign means be prepared to make an extremely sharp turn, hope another car isn't coming the other way, and then make a ridiculously sharp turn the other way.  I set up Gunther to show us the road a little ways ahead; the picture he gave us was a curly maze.
And besides the curves and the steep drops to the river below us, it was really foggy.  The kind of fog that hides all but five feet in front of you.  Thankfully, the only snow we hit was very minute.  I didn't even notice it, but Brandon could tell the car was sliding.

Other good news, we drove through Transylvania under a full moon without being attacked by werewolves or eaten by vampires.

We made it to the Romanian/Moldova border by midnight Sunday night.  Our boss drove to the Moldovan border to meet us and bring the car in.  The customs process here was more complex than at any of the other borders, because upon leaving Romania we were also leaving the European Union.  This resulted in different taxation issues.  After going to the customs office, we went to the border guards.  We were incredibly blessed to have a guard who spoke quite good English.  He took our papers and looked through them, only to bring them back and explain that we were missing the customs paper.  The customs document certifies that we paid the VAT tax.  Without it, we would have to pay a large fine to bring the car into Moldova.  As it turns out, the document we believed to be our customs paper, did indeed have the correct stamp on it, but it wasn't the correct form.  As the guard explained, "You can either go back to Germany or you can see if that can fax it."  Great, fax it.  This sounded like a feasible plan.  Most immediate problem being that it was midnight in Romania, and 11 pm in Germany.

 So we spent another night in the "Pocketful of Sunshine" as Brandon had named it, again waking up to turn on the heat every hour or two.  Our boss was handling the document issue through German speaking friends.  Our job was to sit and wait.  We realized we hadn't eaten a real meal since Hungary, so we thought we might look for a cafe or somewhere to get breakfast.  No such luck.  We went back to the gas station we had spent the night at, purchased two tiny cups of interesting coffee and went back to the PoS. As we waited,  we had plenty of time to watch the town around us come to life.  Every so often a cow or horse would cross the road.  Villagers were driving horse-drawn wagons up and down the roads.  Many were going to the wells near the road and to draw buckets of water.  There were some modern dressed villagers, and some clothed in more traditional attire with the older women were colorful floral broom skirts and scarves over their heads.

Unfortunately, we were unable to obtain the correct documents, and we had to pay the fine, but around 4 or 5 o'clock Brandon and I finally arrived in Chisinau with the PoS.  The exhaustion is kicking in now, but the journey was incredible and the kingdom building will continue in Chisinau.

Thanks for the prayers!

~ Redeemed

Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun...

The days seem to go so fast and the nights seem to come so soon here!  Well, ok, admittedly the sun does set at about 4:30 pm, but in my own life these moments of frustration, fear, and disappoint seem to come so quickly and heavily only to be overpowered just as suddenly by the joy of new understandings of my God, great conversations with the amazing people that I'm surrounded with, a new pair of boots, a new accomplishment that feels like a mini triumph, and cool sunny days.

I must hear at least twice a day, "How are you?"  Whether it's over skype, on my facebook, or from a friend here, my innate response is always, "Good!"   A few years ago, I began to realize how empty a statement that can be.  Ok, great, you're good, but what does that even mean?  So a goal of mine became to answer the classic, "How are you?" with daring honesty.  I want to dare to actually tell you something about myself.  I'm going to dare to tell you how I actually feel.  I'm going to dare to share knowing that you might not really care either, but hoping that you might have the courage to share your life too.  I'm going to dare to be real, and I'm going to dare to have an actual meaningful conversation with you.  

Great thoughts, I tell you.  Great thoughts.  Ah, but how quickly I tire of that challenge.  I reasoned my way back into my comfort zone of "I'm good" by making exceptions to who I told the truth to.  They're just acquaintances. They don't really need to hear about my life.   Wow, that's so thoughtful of me to not inflict the chaos of my circumstances on these unsuspecting inquisitors.  No.  That's laziness.  That's selfishness.  That's plain rude.  That says,"I don't take you seriously enough to care to be honest with you."

This great internal debate has been re-established here in Moldova.  This time I find I respond based on my current mood, not with actual indicators of how I am.  My new goal is to be able on the worst days to be able to still share the joys and on the best days recognize the challenges too.

So how am I, you may ask?

I am facing life.  My pride is being broken in many ways.  My faith is deepening.    I'm frustrated that I haven't learned more Romanian or written you more, but I'm excited about work and the projects we have.  I'm truly enjoying the company of Brandon and Suz, though there are challenges in living day in and day out with people of different perspectives.  I'm still confused sometimes as how to be "in the world, but not of the world."  I've dealt with much more than I expected (including raw meat...ick, I don't do raw meat), and by the grace of God I see beauty in the people, places, and things that surround me.  The Son of God is a shining light that doesn't disappear no matter what time the sun sets.


~ Redeemed

Exercising My Woman's Prerogative

I've made a decision.  Ok, actually, I've made a couple of decisions. And then I went and changed them.  And then I changed my mind again.  What?  Daddy always said, "It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind."  I'll take it. Four languages are spoken in Moldova with the most prominent being Russian and Moldovan (which is basically Romanian).  I knew I would be learning at least one language, but choosing one to focus on has been difficult.  Romanian is the language of the common people and is spoken in many of the villages.  However, this language is only spoken in Romania and Moldova, whereas Russian is spoken in Russia, as well as most all of the former republics of the USSR.  Russian would be useful throughout a much larger region.

Decision No. 1:  I'm going to learn both languages.
   Ok, admittedly this is dumb.  Many people tried to warn me.  Thank you.  My over-ambitious, chronically optimistic self said I could do it.  I call that something else now: pride.  


Decision No. 2:  I'm going to focus on Russian, and just learn what I can pick up of Romanian.
  How is this any different?  Uh.....well, ok it's not that differnt.  The idea is that I would study in-depth just one language, and along the way pick up enough of the other language to get around.  


Decision No. 3: I'm going to learn Romanian, the Cyrillic alphabet, and whatever I can pick up of Russian.
  This is the final decision.  I had been contemplating this for a few days.  All but one of my coworkers speak Romanian as their first language.  I've been able to catch on to more of what Romanian speakers are saying, and it's much easier to practice Romanian on my own (I'm still working on pronouncing the Cyrillic alphabet). 
  Two things though, really convinced me to choose Romanian.  One was something a partner said last week.  He was explaining his involvement in a particular project, "Every time an idea comes up, I am immediately thinking about Romania and Moldova."  It may not make a lot of sense, but this little comment confirmed a thought I'd been pondering:"What if Moldova and Romania are where my heart will be drawn to for the rest of my time in Eastern Europe?" Learning Russian made sense from a practical standpoint.  With Russian, I could communicate in Romania, Moldova, and most of the rest of Eastern Europe.  But the moment the partner shared his story, I knew that I needed to make a clear step of faith and choose the language I've been drawn to.  
  The second reason is that I realized learning Russian was a pride issue.  I wanted to add Russian to my skill set, not because I needed it or really wanted to use it, but because it's hard and it would be impressive if I learned it.  What a horribly prideful perspective.  I needed to let it go.


One of my biggest fears in life is that I will waste the time I've been given.  I thought for a brief period that learning only one language would be a horrible waste of the time I've had to hear both languages.  But everyone I know that speaks Russian as a second language is still studying the language and has been studying for years.  I think I have a far better chance of becoming fluent in Romanian in only a year, than I would with Russian. If I decided I need to learn Russian later on, I can pick it up again.  For now, though, I will focus on Romainian.

It's late, and I'm tired :)  Noapte buna (good night)!

Our God is Greater, Our God is Stronger, God You are Higher Than Any Other...

Dearest family and friends, I am SO SORRY for the lack of postings! Ya'll have been so faithful to pray and follow what's going on here, that the least I can do is write a little bit.  Let's see, since my last posting so much has happened.   Quite a few crazy, frustrating things, some slightly dangerous ones too.  But at the same time, I've gotten to see glimpses of the Lord's moving in individual lives here and in my life as well.  It's pretty mind-blowing.

Ok, let's see....when I left off we had just finished the retreat.  We had a couple of days of normal work, and then on Friday afternoon, we found out we were going to have to stay late.  A business consultant from Germany, Martin Maurer (PSP Consult) was here to conduct a series of business development seminars for any interested Moldovan business people.  The translation for the first seminar was being completed as we finished up our work.  We were supposed to combine the translations and print off enough copies for the participants.  I have a bit of experience with large copying machines (much credit goes to Dr. Clerico for this), but somehow it still managed to be a headache to print these presentations out.  Once we figured out the correct way to print them, the greedy printer started sucking in two or three sheets of paper at a time.  I don't know how many of you have tried to print a double-sided presentation from fifty sheets of single-sided pages, but its extremely important that the pages be in the correct order.  We figured out a way to prevent the printer from inhaling too many papers at once, only to be stopped by the dreaded paper jam.  After about five paper jams, I had the system of opening doors and pulling wrinkled sheets of paper free down pat.  At some point though, despite all our sweet talkin and petting (yes, BK and I both believe in caressing electronic devices), the printer  sucked up too many papers and got another paper jam.  We went to release the papers, only to find one torn.  In an attempt to free that paper, we released a small component of the printer.  The component popped out faster than expected and when we put it up on top of the printer we discovered that a part of it was definitely broken.  So having crippled the big beast, we were left with the old small printer in our conference center.  We had to do ten copies of every single page, one at a time.  We figured out a pretty smooth rhythm, and started whipping papers out.  Three hours and two interns later, we had ten presentations.  

We're not allowed to touch the big printer anymore now.  We had to print off more presentations throughout the seminar, but Alexis made sure to supervise our interaction with the printer....

The seminars were really good.  Martin is a talented Christian business.  He brought not only his expertise, but a pervasive sense of humor and good-naturedness.   He was truly interested in every single person that attended the seminar, willingly spending time discussing their unique situations and answering their questions during the breaks.  Brandon was in charge of video taping, while I was taking pictures and writing notes.

I feel like I'm dragging you along with useless details.  As I play those few days back in my mind, all the memories are drowned out by the memory of Brandon's frequent comment to Martin's even more frequent jokes, "Oh, Martin."  All I have to say is, "Oh, Moldova."

I'm Gonna Lay Down My Sword and Shield....

I don't know how many of ya'll know that old song, but thanks to my mom, I know I lot of little old songs.

It goes, "I'm gonna lay down my sword and shield down by the riverside
              Down by the riverside, down by the riverside,
              I'm gonna lay down my sword and shield down by the riverside
              And study war no more."

This weekend was miserably cold and had just enough of a drizzle to put one in a somber mood.  The Invest-Credit staff from Chisinau, Beltz, and Cahul, along with their spouses, gathered together with a team of Americans from PEER Servants (one of our partnering organizations) and a German-American from another one of our partner organizations, HOPE International for a retreat away from the business, the long office hours, and the general stress of it all.   We gathered with the goal of establishing real relationships among the staff and between the staff and the partners.  In total, I think there were about thirty people.

We left Friday from the office and rode about an hour, hour and a half, outside of the city to Camp Bradulet.  Turns out Bradulet is normally used as a children's summer camp.  Biggest give-away: children's furniture, sheets with airplanes on them, and the absence of heating!  

The cold was a great unifier though!  One of our partners, Scott, did a great job of planning out the structure of the retreat.  We were to have dinner, do some activities to get to know each other better, and then a bonfire complete with an introduction to American culture, ie s'mores!    Our "cabin" had a gathering room that was the perfect size to hold all of us.  We shivered on couches and chairs forming a large circle, all of us buried under these heavy orange blankets the camp provided us with.  It was a great bonding experience!
            
We went around the room with each person sharing a little about who they were and why they were here and something they learned about their neighbor at dinner, pausing for translation every few sentences.  I was so surprised at how open everyone was.   Some of the younger Moldovan couples had eaten with one of the older American couples, and the comments of the Moldovan couples were how encouraged they were by seeing this couple who had been married 51 years.  Other couples had connected by discussing their children.  One of the Moldovan couples is expecting their third child (most families in Moldova consist of one, maybe two, children), and were so excited to visit with one of the American couples who had seven children.   It took us quite a while to go all the way around the room, but everyone remained patient and engaged.

Brandon's boyscout experience, however brief it may have been, paid off in a perfect bonfire.  The Moldovans were very open to trying this odd things called "smores," though the German complained that sweet things don't go over a fire, only things like meat!  As everyone started to head to bed, Leanne, one of our partners, handed out hand and feet warmers, definitely a great idea!

Saturday consisted of a devotional, a brief explanation of Invest-Credit, HOPE International, and PEER Servants, a game of Reds and Blues (to emphasize the importance of trust and communication), jenga time for the guys and jewelry-making for the ladies, and a big game of Mafia.  Everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves.  It was beautiful to see the relationships develop as cultural barriers diminished and spiritual bonds deepened.

Personally, I appreciated the opportunity to get to see the staff outside of the office, with their loved ones and just having a good time!  It was also an incredible blessing to build relationships with our partners as well.  PEER Servants is comprised completely of volunteers, all who have vast business experience and who are passionate about using their abilities for the Lord.  Brandon and I both picked their brains for advice, and they graciously poured their wisdom into us.  To be honest, I felt a little guilty for having gotten so much out of this retreat!  But I am so thankful for each of the partners!  Though we only had about two days with them, I had really great conversations with each one of them.  To be fair, they were also curious as to why Brandon and I had each chosen to come to Moldova and what our future goals were.  I came away from the retreat in awe of the unexpected blessing it proved to be!

~ Redeemed

You Speak English?

Suz and I have found an endless source of amusement in discovering the cultural differences between the Brits and the Americans (I refuse to be called a Yank).  At least twice a day, we discover something else that we have different names for.  We've explained the college or university living situations, and I had to explain that tailgating involved a little more than sitting on a tailgate and eating...

But what I've felt more this week than the previous is the isolation cultural barriers can bring.  While communication is possible, really conveying how I feel and the underpinnings of what I mean is quite difficult.  I'm so very very thankful for Skype and the couple of hours my best friends and I have had to talk.  Sunday Laura and I were finally able to really catch up.  It was the afternoon in Texas and late at night here, but it felt like we were hanging out in her apartment.  College seems so long ago.

In the midst of this isolation, though, I've developed a new awe for God.  One of my new Moldovan friends, Pasha, is so honest about life and has so many questions about my life that we've had great conversations.  I think we're both constantly surprised at the situations that transverse cultures such as the difficulty of moving out for the first time (going back home for that matter), how school friendships change after graduation, and even what we are looking for in future relationships.  Translations amuse me though.  Sometimes the wording, though accurate, conveys a much more serious or intense meaning than maybe the speaker meant, and that's a funny thing to get used to.  So the thought hit me the other day that I spend a good deal of time consciously analyzing and interpreting this foreign culture that I'm living in, but God made each of these cultures.  He knows them better than any native, understanding every nuance of each one!   How incredible is that!  And how reassuring that His message (for the message of light and hope is not my own, but His message) can transcend all cultural differences, language barriers, and racial differences.    

"For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake.  For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."  2 Corinthians 4:5-6

~ Redeemed

Blessed Boundaries

Monday has just ended, and the week has already proven exciting.   I have a new roommate now.  Suz is British and here volunteering at a journal for the next nine months.  She is a friend of Meredith's (the last intern) who had mentioned to me the possibility of us being roommates before.  Suz's organization, though, said they had made arrangements for her.  When she arrived, something had changed and she was supposed to stay temporarily at what turned out to be little more than a glorified concrete shack.  The lighting consisted of lightbulbs hanging from unfinished wiring, and the tub was propped up on concrete blocks with no curtain around it.  In truth, the building hadn't been finished yet.  She just as an immediate relief, I welcomed her to come stay at my place (which was pretty funny the first night, because another of Meredith's friends had been staying for a couple of nights between a missions trip and flying back to the States).  We got along well, and as we learned more about the housing situation, it seemed she would need to stay a month and them might be able to move into the originally intended dwelling.  I offered Suz my extra room for the month at least and to stay the entire duration if she wanted to.  Contrary to all the warnings she had been given, her organization was actually quite agreeable to her staying here.  So my bills will be split in half, but more importantly, I have another human being to live with!!!!   This is a big relief as we've gotten little tastes of the weather that forces most to stay inside during the winter.

This weekend was rainy and cold.  We had plans to cook lunch with friends and then go check out the wine festival downtown, but with the rain we all decided to stay in the apartment, watch a bit of tv, and drink tea and coffee.  It was a of fun.  Suz and I get along really well, and we were both ready for a down weekend.  We did decide to venture out Saturday evening to pick up a few groceries for dinner.  As we were just about finished with our selections, the power went out in the grocery store.  Power outage in the states: generator, back-up power supply turns a few emergency lights on and the registers work.  Power outage in Moldova: some flashlights and cell phone lights and somehow the registers worked.  We exited Green Hills, only to find that the entire block had lost power.  Our apartment was so dark, and neither of us had a true flashlight (or torch in Suz's case), and we hadn't purchased candles yet either!  

Our appetites persuaded us to make do, so we opened my laptop and set it on the little table to provide some light in the kitchen and opened our window (though it was about eight pm so the sun had been down for quite a while).  We cooked flank steaks, caramelized red onions, and creamed spinach on our gas stove, and right as we were sitting down to eat, the power came back on!  It was SO good....I think I had been having a serious meat deficiency in my diet.   Sigh.  Yes, good meal.

Having completely exhausted ourselves from such a strenuous day we left the dishes and decided to finish the show we had been watching online (this is our option for American programs).  We set up the laptop, and boom, power went out again!!!  We still had the internet connection, so it didn't phase us, but we were a bit relieved when it came back on a hour or so later.

Sunday, ah blessed Sunday.  I was running late to the Russian service, and knowing I would be going to the International service later that evening, I called my friend Pasha and we decided to skip the Russian service and do some boot shopping.  I have been told that my shoes are inadequate for Moldovan winters, so Pasha took Suz and I to a couple different places to buy Moldovan manufactured boots.  The first store was way too crowded for the Westerners.  By crowded, I mean Black Friday times two crowded.  I felt like we were literally wading through people.  The second place had more boots than I could comprehend, but the sizes were really hit or miss.  We ended up leaving exhausted and bootless, but with a much better idea of what I want.  In a week or two, more sizes will be available and I will have winter boots before the snow comes.

Pasha had to rush back home, so Suz and I went back to our apartment to make some lunch.  As we were shuffling about our tiny kitchen, fixing various things, Suz gave a sudden exclamation,"Oh!"  She had leaned against the radiator in our kitchen and it was HOT!  Ok, so it was hot, it's a radiator, you may be thinking.  Oh no.  This is a HUGE deal!!!

The city of Chisinau is on centralized heating, meaning the government controls the heating, when it's turned on, when it's turned off, and all the settings in between.  Normally, the heat is turned on in early November.  However, if the weather is cold enough for three days, they will turn it on sooner.  If you've read my earlier posts, you know it had been quite cold here.  Cold enough, I learned had to be 8 C (46-48 F).  It had fallen into the thirties (farenheit) a few nights!  A state announcement had been made that the heat would be turned on this week, and our's must've been one of the first.

Its not very high right now, but it is definitely helping to fight off the chill.  And I was suddenly hit last night with the realization of God's hand in this.  I had it in my mind, that I just had to last until November, but God knew in His infinite wisdom that three days of cold would bring the heat.  He gave a few very cold days, so that our heating would be turned on three weeks early.  Blows my mind.....

Yes, I'm Fine.

Wow, I can't believe I have been here for over two weeks!!! Time is flying by.  Sigh.  I find myself needing to stop for just a minute to take it all in.

Let's since I left off I've been to the Russian church twice, the International service, had medical exams for needed to eventually get my visa, gotten around town quite a bit more, learned some new words, been working at the office, had two houseguests, one which has become my new roommate, attended a conference on prevention of human trafficking, had dinner with my new boss, had some great conversations with my coworkers, been to a Bible study hosted by one of the Russian pastors, and spent some more time with my Moldovan friends.

Sorry, that was a bit of a mental dump.  I've so much to share with ya'll, but I'll start with the adventure into the medical system of Moldova.

Sunday night, I was able to meet two new interns at the international service.  Jesse and Sara are here for 7 months to work at a home for trafficked women.  Turns out that they were going Monday morning to get the medical examinations necessary for our residency permits.  One of the missionaries they were working under, invited me to go along with them.  It was a great plan, as their translator was familiar with the process and it meant that no one in my office had to take time away from work to go with me.

So about 9:30 am, I arrived at the Andy's (a pizza restaurant) near the Policlinica.  There I waited to be picked up by Jesse, Sara, and Igor.  We drove around the street, parked, and after trying a couple of locked doors, made our way into the Policlinica.  We gave Igor our passports, and he went and got the appropriate paperwork for us.  Then begin the queing.

We stood in this long hallway with rooms off both sides.  Moldovans and foreigners alike, mulled around. Some sitting on the benches along the wall, some just standing, and every so often a new person would enter the hall and ask who the last person in line was.

We were warned before hand there was occasional bribery, and that we would have to visit doctor's that we might not actually want to check us out.  In which case, well, every case, when they asked if we were ok, we replied, "Yes, I'm fine."   Never thought the American propensity to utter this little white lie would ever come in so handy.

There were a few things we couldn't get out of though.  The first being a blood withdrawal.  What for?  Oh, to test if we had Aids and various other diseases and issues...I found it rather ironic to be stabbed with a needle in a underdeveloped country in order to check me for HIV.  It wasn't too bad, and Sara happens to be an ER nurse so she was particularly observant of their processes.  She assured us that the needles were fine, and on my part, I can verify that the nurse was quick and accurate in finding and puncturing my vein.  I've had Red Cross volunteers do worse jobs.

Second unavoidable test would be the chest x-ray.  I don't what the x-ray was for, and quite frankly, I don't care.  What I did care about was being told to strip from the waist up and standing in a large metal booth with my chin up and my arms down and being radiated with no vest.  Delightful.  Yeah.  They did kick Igor out of the office first, and I'm pretty sure he must've guarded the door, because in all the other offices people just barged in and out.  After planting a seed of doubt in our minds about the health of our future children, Sara assured us that we received a minimal amount of radiation and we would probably be fine.  Yeah, ignorance was bliss.

Then Igor said we had to go outside to see the next doctor.  "Which doctor is next?" I asked.  The gynecologist.  And sudden confusion clouded out my common sense as I tried to reason why in such a cold country the gynecologist would be outside.

Turns out we had to walk outside to go to the next building.  Duh.  Blame it on the jet lag.

The doctor eyed us quickly, asked how we were, we responded with quick assurance our standard response, and she stamped and signed our paperwork.

We thought the next doctor might be the one where we had to give a stool and urine sample, which none of us were too thrilled about, so we asked Igor which doctor was next.  "You're good," he responsed.  "No, which doctor is next?" we asked.  "No doctor.  I paid.  You're good." Ah, bribery, and suddenly I can relate to the ease of giving in to such corruption.  After we saw the neurologist (and don't worry, he stamped my paper too), Igor explained that the next doctor we had to see wouldn't be back for another hour/hour and a half.  So he steered us off towards Andy's for lunch, then left to run some errands.  We made it back to the Policlinica right on time, and finished up pretty shortly thereafter.  We would have to return the next day for a few more things.

Major complements to Igor for being so very helpful and kind.  Another group of volunteers came through the policlinica shortly after us, and their guide was full-out sprinting up and down the hallway to get in the right offices and put paperwork in the right hands.  Our experience was a bit calmer.

Tuesday, quite a bit later in the morning, and a bit flustered from finding out last minute what time to be there, I arrived at the policlinica on my own and located Sara, Jesse, and Elena (who filled in for Igor).  The main concern was getting the blood type test.  We climbed up the stairs to a much calmer second story and entered another little office.  I was instructed to sit down next to the doctor's desk and put my arm on the desk.  The doctor picked up my hand, massaged it a bit, and then, before I could even protest, sliced the tip of my finger with a scapel.  Now besides being mystified as to why they couldn't just figure out my type from the four vials of blood drawn the previous day, I just really really dislike having my finger pricked, much less sliced.  Anyways, the doctor raises my hand with my bloody finger pointing down slides a ceramic dish under my hand.  Then she whipped out the scapel and sliced off the tip of my finger!!!

JK,  but she did squeeze the blood out of my finger until it dripped into three spots on the dish.  She added drops of different chemical solutions to each spot and stirred them with a glass stick.  Oh, and handed me a cottonball dipped in alcohol.  No band-aid here.   Apparently she was able to tell my blood type from the way the blood reacted with the chemical.  She scribbled something down and rinsed the dish off.  I checked her answer against my Red Cross donor card;  A- was correct, good job.

After a look-over and the same staple question from the doctor of infectious diseases, we were pretty much finished.  Our paperwork moved around a bit more, and finally we had certificates verifying clean blood, and a half-sheet of paper with the various medical examination categories, the doctors' approval signatures, and about twelve stamps effectively stating that we were healthy.  I got a pretty rough cough two days later, but "Yes, I'm fine."

Frigid

I walk each day to the office I work at, and today I admit I passed a pregnant woman and was jealous.  Not because I want a child right now or anything, but because I was betting she was warmer than I was.   It's two am (which is why this post will be short), and 39 degrees out.  It's sprinkling though, so according to weatherchannel.dot (my new favorite source of entertainment) it feels like its 32 degrees.  I've decided that I'm not getting used to the cold, I'm just getting used to being cold.

On the way back to my apartment for lunch, I stopped and bought three eggplants and two tomatoes.  Total cost of my purchase: 6.62 lei.  That's about $0.60 USD.  Good deal for sure.

This week has brought new adventures in the shopping and cooking, some great conversations at work, new friends, and a new roommate!   I'd say that beats out last week's radiation and blood withdrawal, more on those later.....

Couch beds

Oh, excuse me, they are more commonly referred to as pull-out sofas.  But, you see, couch-bed is a little more accurate a description of the pieces of furniture that have been a constant in the past four years of my life.

It all started with God's couch.  Yes, God's couch, at God's school, with God's pond.  Or at least that's how my first suitemate referred to what is now my alma mater.    At CSU, my roommate and I had a black futon where many a vent was fumed, a epiphany shared, a Chinese delivery night held.  It caught many tears of both laughter and pain.  It was a good futon....

Now it catches sweaty laundry in my brother's dorm room.

Oh, I almost forgot, it did endure a week in the dorm hallway at CSU.  That one semester when our housing staff didn't have the supplies to bunk the beds in our dorm for a couple of weeks, my roommate and I had a desks in a corner, beds lined parallel, and after a night of exiling it to the hallway, a futon too!  And in the meantime one of our best friends was caught in a housing limbo and needed a place to stay for a week or two.   Voila, couch bed #1.

Couch bed #2 came into my life during my second year of college.  Some of you may remember how, hmmm...how shall I say it?  Over-occupied and under-rested...   Ok, fine, I was exhausted and didn't sleep enough.  Anyways, the previously mentioned best friend, Hannah Rose, was able to find a great house to rent.  Her living room had a green couch and a tan futon in it.   Her house was the only place I could distant myself enough from my stress to actually sleep, and I fell asleep many many times on that futon.

The next year, I was incredibly blessed to be able to move in with her and another good friend, Amanda.  Despite bringing a bed with me, I still fell asleep many times on that futon.

 During that year, I had a brief stint with another couch bed.  My other best friend had a huge futon.  Laura, her roommate, and I would have the normal intense honors students/business major study sessions complete with some form of chocolate, excel spreadsheets, and the occasional break to plan our futures and peruse grad school rankings.  I received the email from Samaritan's Purse informing me that I didn't get their internship during one of those nights, but that futon saw us from the fears of college seniors about to enter a world not quite ready for them to the excitement of graduation day. That would have to be couch bed #3.

Couch bed #4, ah, home sweet home.  I moved home this past summer and convinced my parents to leave my old bedroom, now the guest room, as they had it.  My furniture went into our storage shed, and my head went on the pull-out sofa.   It served it's purpose those four months.

Couch bed #5 was in my life for the shortest amount of time, but it still was quite special.  I went back to visit friends in Charleston and ended up being able to spend a few days with Amanda helping her move. She had sold all her furniture from our house, and so we went on a grand adventure searching Charleston's thrift stores for the greatest finds.  We found a pull-out sofa for somewhere between $15 and $25, and with the help of our new friends at the thrift store (who made sure we knew that they stayed late just because they wanted to help these two crazy girls) wedged this sofa into Amanda's little
Honda CR-V.

Ok, maybe you're already hoping I didn't actually sleep on this couch.  But wait.  We had experience recovering a couch once before, so on a whim, we called up our future business partner and friend Logan to see if he wanted to help out again.  He and his wife came over, and between the four of us, a few sheets, some pins, and a nail gun we had a beautiful new couch.   And yes, after a thorough spraying of Lysol and despite Logan's warnings that it was "an aids couch,"  I slept just fine on couch bed #6.  

Which brings me to my current pallet....couch bed #7.   With such small apartments, it is really common in Moldova to have a fold-out sofa for a bed.  Mine is covered in blankets and quite comfortable.  Which is good, because I'm here for a year :)

RUSSIAN!!!

SATURDAY:

    Saturday was chaotic, but lots of fun! A little after 8 am Meredith came over to my apartment, so that we could make it to her Russian tutor's apartment by 9.  Her tutor lives in another part of town, so I was able to see a little bit more of Chisinau through the window of our racing rutiera (minibus)!   Her tutor is a very nice Moldovan lady.  We met at her apartment, a small clean, modern space.   Hopefully, I'll be taking lessons from her soon!   Her mother had recently moved in with them (after spending eight years in Italy), and while they were working and I was reading, she brought us some warm drinks.  It was steamed milk with honey and some sort of spice or tea.  Heavenly!!! Seriously, I'm going to figure out how to make that.  

   After the lesson we were supposed to head to one of the villages outside of Chisinau.  Despite Adriana's best efforts at calling us a cab, we missed the eleven o'clock bus and had to wait until 12:30. We spent the time going through the central marketplace, a very large market with just about everything. Meredith showed me the craft market too.  This is where I'll go to get some authentic Moldovan souvenirs.....but don't get to many hopes up.  There really aren't any touristy things.  I saw a few keychains, but I've yet to see postcards or other standard tourism items.  We'll see though.  The tastiest stop was at the Green Hills.  This one was quite a bit smaller than the one near my apartment, and more of a bakery than a full grocery store.  We picked out some cookies to take to the family we were heading to visit, as well as a pastry and drink for each of us.  I had some kind of shortbread type pastry with a light creme and orange, kiwi, and pineapple on the top.  De-lish!   We purchased some bread in the market for the family, and made it to our bus on time.  

  Fourty-five minutes later we were in a Russian-speaking village.  A young girl ran out and exclaimed delightfully, "Meredit!  Meredit!"  This was the ten year old daughter of the couple we were visiting.  The dad (T) is a carpenter, and the mom (N) teaches.  They have another daughter, 9, and a son, 6 or 7.  This family lives in a two room home.  The conditions are quite poor by western standards, but they have sturdy furniture (thanks to T's workmanship) and indoor plumbing.  The mom had been quite busy putting together masa (a large meal shared with guests) for us.  The little boy was eager to show "Meredit" his school work and his good grades.  

T led us back to the workshop he had recently finished.  He built the cinderblock rectangular building complete with wooden beams and a tin roof all by himself.  Inside the workshop, a couple of beams crossed the floor.  They were covered in the fine dust a saw leaves behind, and clearly there to support his most recent piece of work.  He showed us some of the doors that he built.  Absolutely beautiful pieces, carefully constructed with a elegant, yet contemporary design.  He cut, assembled, and stained each piece.  He also showed us some cabinet doors he had stained, and some pieces he was refurbishing.  The front yard of T and N's home was lost under a spread of cinderblocks; these will one day complete the new house that T is building for his family.  It may take a while though, as he is workly late into the night on his woodwork and saving to pay for the house without a loan.  

Despite their seemingly humble conditions, T and N are able to enjoy some modern conveniences.  We spent a good bit of time before Masa on the internet browsing for a second laptop for T.  Having a good laptop would greatly assist him in marketing his business. 

Masa was held in the backyard under the limbs of a mimosa (?) tree.  A shipping palette resting on crates served as our table and we sat on small stools and sideways tubs.  We stood in a circle holding hands while T prayed in Russian over the meal.  N had prepared some incredibly delicious dishes for us.  The main course was stuffed peppers.  Yellow and red peppers were filled with rice, carrots, chicken, onion, and other vegetables and boiled in a pot of water.  They were tender and juicy.  We were instructed to put sour cream on top of them (Moldovan sour cream is thinner than ours), and the first time T shook his head and chided us for not putting enough on them!  My favorite dish was an eggplant sandwich.  N had cut eggplant shortways and then pan-fried them.  Then she placed some tomato chunks on top and poured a little garlic mayonnaise (that she pressed and mixed herself) on top, then repeated the process with a second layer.  These eggplant creations then would go on top of a piece of bread.  I liked it just as much by itself as on the bread, though.  The fresh grapes disappeared quickly!  We also had another eggplant dish that was cooked eggplant mixed with onions, also normally with sour cream.  The kids got up and played, but Meredith and I talked with T and N for awhile longer.  We had hot tea and some cookies, and then she gently urged us to try the sunflower spread she had made.  "It might not look that good, but it is pretty good," she told us. "It's crushed up sunflower seeds mixed with butter."  It looked like pesto, but had a nutty, slightly sweet taste, almost like pistachio.  That's going on my list of dishes to make!  

After Masa we climbed up the sloping hill in the back to play with the kids and get a better view of the village.  It was a farming community, but unlike in the states where each farmer owns a large field, these farmers own strips of each field.  During the Soviet era, the government owned the farms and the people worked the  farms for a small salary.  When the farms were privatized, fields were divided in narrow strips among the people.  Though they still have very little land, N assured me that the farmers' lives were much better owning the land than when working for the government.  T and N also grow have some fruit trees as well.  We played futbol with the kids for a little while before heading down to catch our bus back into town.  I guess its a natural thing in farming communities around the world to share with your friends and guests some of the products of your harvest.  At any rate, Natasha insisted that Meredith and I each take a jar of the jam she had made and a jar of a tomato, onion, pepper, mix she had made.  I'm told it will be great over bread in the winter.  N and T were so enthusiastic and generous.  It was humbling to be able to spend time with them and hear their dreams.  They are hardworking people with tender hearts, and I look forward to spending more time with them in the future.

Once back in the city, Meredith and I had to prepare for another celebration.  Her Moldovan friends were coming to my apartment for another send-off celebration for Meredith.  I'm so glad we had my apartment to gather at!   We met up with Evelina at the handy Green Hills to pick up our supplies for a fajita night.  Another friend, Nina, was waiting at my apartment when we got back.  The girls were so great and helped me get the place cleaned a bit more before the other girls arrived.  We had a lot of fun squished into my tiny kitchen chopping up tomatoes, Nina and I crying from slicing onions, Evelina cooking the chicken and peppers, and learning about each other's lives. We attempted to make salsa, and while it must have been good for the rate at which it disappeared, we didn't have the spices Meredith and I would have liked to give the girls a true taste of American salsa.  We ate in my living room, and they shared how they met Meredith and some of their memories.  We tried out my hotpot and "fixed" coffee and tea to go with our Chisinau cake (a local cake with twelve yummy layers...light and slightly sweet).  The girls were so funny comparing my accent to Meredith's Chicago accent.  My Southern accent is pretty mild, but sometimes there's no denying it, such as when I said I was going to "fix some coffee."  Apparently they don't say that in Chicago, but then they also pronounce the "l" in folks and don't use the word "tote" either :)   

Off to sleep now, dear friends!   I'll share about church and my trip to the "Policlinica" later :)

~ Redeemed

Summary of My Chaotic Weekend

We did so much this weekend!  Meredith, the intern I'm replacing, has been so incredibly helpful through this entire process and continued by showing me everything and introducing me to all her friends this weekend.  Brandon, the intern I'll be working with, was shocked at how much we got accomplished.  he said it took about two weeks for him to do all that we did with my apartment...thankfully I'm not living on eggs and milk like he was :)

I'm going to give a brief summary of each day, for my brain's sake as much as for your information, and I'll give details later....I should probably sleep tonight!

THURSDAY:

    Arrived at 1 pm and was greeted by Meredith with a lovely bouquet of flowers (a very traditional gift in Moldova).  We went straight to my new apartment and met my landlady and landlord and Meredith's friend, Evelina, who helped out so much with finding the apartment. Brandon met us at the apartment and was gentlemanly enough to drag my 69 lb. suitcase up seven flights of Soviet stairs to the fourth floor.   I paid for a week (the end of September) and a month's rent, the week's rent was good sign of my landlady's honesty.  She was also so kind to make up my bed for me and leave some dishes and toilet paper.  The neighbors' son came over and offered to go ahead and set up my wireless.  Between him and Brandon, my internet was working within about 30 minutes (definitely a blessing).

   Once my landlady and her husband left, we went first to withdraw some Moldovan lei (their currency) and then to a pizza place for lunch.  We devoured a mushrooms and capers pizza, Hawaiian pizza, and another pizza while we got to know each other.  Two notes:  the pizzas are much smaller than ours' so don't think we were that famished, and these people deserve respect simply for helping so much before we even really knew each other.

  Then we headed off to the market to get a cellphone for me.  I think it ended up costing about $30 USD including my minutes.  We went to a different market to find an adapter for me.  Then I got to tour the supermarket, Green Hills.  We picked up a few things for me and then Meredith and I went back to my apartment.  We spent a long time talking about what we've been learning over the past year, and Meredith shared a lot with me about her time in Moldova.  It was really nice to get to spend this time actually getting to know the person I'd been emailing back and forth with for a month.  She also approved of my packing and said I brought the right things :)

FRIDAY:

  This day was a bit shorter, as I slept until 2 pm, but I even with the lack of sleep on the plane, the jetlag kept me up really late.  I got cleaned up and situated a bit more, and then went in to the office around 4 pm.  Brandon gave me directions, and I was pretty excited to have the chance to navigate around by myself for a little bit.  It took ten minutes tops for me to make it to the office.  I definitely have a great location.  My first hour in the office was spent on a conference call with some of our partners who are planning a retreat for the Invest Credit staff and a group of American volunteers that will be coming as well.

  After work, we headed by Meredith's apartment, then mine, and finally we met up with Brandon, a peace corp volunteer, and a Moldovan friend to head to "the Center" (basically the downtown of Chisinau).  We went to one of the really nice restaurants where we met up with two other Americans for Meredith's send-off party.  It was a neat restaurant.  Most people were fairly dressed up, but foreigner status apparently gives us some leeway....  There was what seemed to be an anniversary party going on on one side of the upper floor.  Middle aged couples dressed as if for prom danced and danced.  It was fun to watch; Meredith and Pascha even got to join in on the last bit of the national Moldovan dance!
The food was pretty good too.  I had a delicious spinach soup.  I love all the vegetables here!

After the send-off dinner, we made our way down to an Irish pub to play darts.  I have a whole year to practice at dart-throwing, and trust me, I need the practice :P  As interesting as finding an Irish pub in Eastern Europe was, we were more amused by the three widescreen tvs on the walls.  They were playing American and British music videos, really awful ones to be honest, and all of the commercials were in English.  Definitely out of place for Moldova.  We finished off the night with a stop at the Rock-n-Roll Club.   I was looking forward to coffee and some of the group was looking forward to hookah (Pascha and I weren't interested in that part).  We were able to grab seats pretty quickly, but the service was about as slow as the demise of the Cold War.  Meredith and I were anticipating some apple cake and   a pot of black tea, but they didn't have any of their deserts (or any hookah, lol)!  So we ordered some fries instead.  The guys ran over to McDonald's and came back in just a few minutes.  Despite the lack of service, it was an interesting place filled with posters of Russian and Romanian bands mixed with a few western groups.  Seemed like a popular local favorite for sure.

Back at my apartment,  I still managed to stay up late.  The late hours of the night here though, seem to be the best time to catch anyone back home on skype.


   

Left on Lufthansa!

Well, I'm in Moldova!!!  Amazingly, I arrived only an hour later than planned.  The only delay was on my flight from Munich to Chisinau.  My dearest best friend from home, Rachel, met my parents and I at the airport. Mr. Roy and Reid also came along for the send-off.  I'll be honest, it didn't hit me until we were dragging all 120+ pounds of my luggage into the airport that I was actually leaving!

Blessing to Note:  I was mentally prepared for an overweight, oversized extra bag fee of around $100. Turns out my second bag, at 69 lbs., just made into the first tier of extra baggage (< 70 lbs.) and only cost an extra $50.

Oddity to Note:  The flight attendant on my flight from Charlotte to Munich clearly became bored with her job the first week.  She was so dynamic when discussing the safety procedures and added so many oddly timed intonations that, at the end of her presentation, the guy next to me commented, "I feel like we should give her a round of applause."

Wierdest Travel Plans of the Day:  In searching for an outlet in the Charlotte airport to plug my laptop into, I ended up sitting with a couple headed to Paris.  Of course in true Southern fashion (and I have definitely discovered that this is one of those Southern charms), I started talking with them.  The girl does research for a university on micro-vessels, micro blood vessels to be exact, and she is heading to a world congress on micro-vessels.  We shared a laugh about each embarking on a "micro-focused" adventure.

Most Interesting Character of the Day:  Lonnie.  My new Albanian friend.  Yep,  we sat next to each other from Charlotte to Munich - my longest flight - and shared our reasons for our trip.  Lonnie was headed back to Albania for the first time in three years.  His parents and brothers are all there still.  He said he was the youngest; all his brothers are married and have children.  Inquisitively I responded, "No wife?  You need to find an Albanian girl!"  His answer, "I was the lucky one.  I got to go to America."  Lonnie drives a truck for a living, his reason for not having met a wife yet.  Just being honest, truck-driving isn't exactly my dream career...or on my list of back-up career plans, yet he was so grateful for the opportunity.  It blew me away.  I'm so humbled to have been born an American and afforded so many opportunities, and I'm grateful that I'll only be away from my family for a year....

Cutest Character of the Day:  Eighteen month old on the bus from the airport in Munich to our plane to Chisinau.  Precious little boy, would grab my hand and try to speak to me.  I would wiggle my fingers and talk to him and he would bust out laughing!  Such fun :)  His mom said he never acts like that....guess she's got a flirt coming on, lol.

Oh the Futile Plans of Man....

In only TWO days, I'll be boarding a plane ready to embark on this next adventure!  It's hard to believe its so soon, but I'm ready for it to be real.  Not just reading emails, itineraries, and summaries of the economic situation.

I've been constantly reminded as the planning has proceeded of how futile our plans can be.  If you catch me saying, "I'm hoping or hopefully," its because I realize that no matter how much I plan the Lord ordains my steps.  His plans are always better than mine!   

   "Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand." 

                                                                                                          Proverbs 19:21