An Ending Note

My last month in Moldova has been filled with exciting excursions, adventures, simple beers with buddies, wrapping up work related activities, saying final goodbyes, making wine, and tomorrow the wedding of my host sister. The weather has been spectacular and luckily for everyone in the agricultural industry the first frost arrived just today. The leaves outside range from pale greens to soothing yellows with the odd burning red scattered about. The grapes have all been collected (I regretfully did not participate in this part), have been crushed, fermented, pressed, filtered, and put in the barrel for a late December maturity. My room is Spartan, my walls bare, and my bags are packed.

Last weekend my host parents treated my host sister, her fiancé, and I to a tour of the Milesti Mici winery in the central Codru region of Moldova. The labyrinth like catacombs of Milesti hold over 1.5 million bottles of wine, the largest amount in the world, and stretch for over 200 kilometers underground. We arrived early in the morning to procure sparkling wine for my host sister’s wedding and to take a tour. Milesti is very much like an underground city with roads named after famous varietals and lined with barrels that hold over 5 tons of maturing wine. Our tour started with a guide that road in our car with us and described how the wine deposit works, some of the basics of wine making, and what separated this particular winery from others in the area. It was a fascinating tour.

At the end of the tour we enjoyed a tasting of four vintages from between twenty five and ten years old and we ate great Moldovan sausages, Bulgarian sheep cheese, and fresh veggies. Just as I thought the day could not have been any more interesting a trio of two violinists and an according player unobtrusively played gypsy music with a spattering of the Star Spangled Banner (or something very much like it in cadence). Our guide soon left us with the four unfinished bottles and we were promptly served a beautiful shashlik (Russian BBQ) a cabbage salad, and boiled potatoes with dill.

The following day was Wine Festival in the centre of Chişinău. All the most prestigious houses, top exporters, and even merchants slinging local swine compete to show off there work and possibly strike a sale. Unlike the states, the really good places to have a tasting have a somewhat varying degree of face control. Read, the average Moldovan is not allowed to enter. My friend Will and I were lucky enough to find an acquaintance of ours at Château Vartely and we shared a great bottle of merlot as well looked over the crowded masses. Soon after we actually choose to use English and broken Romanian in an attempt to sound more foreign and secure a tasting at Purcari; it is one of my favorite firms. After two pours from the miser attendant we were promptly asked to leave. The reason we were asked to leave is nebulous, but it was clear our company and money were not welcomed. Not to worry, Will and I and his wife found a shashlik stand and picked up a bottle of cabernet to share with some fellow volunteers. Later in the evening I crashed at a Moldovan buddy of mine’s apartment. I had both promised him we would catch one last drink in the capital, and I also was curious to see how students live in the capital. Sasha’s apartment was relatively nice, and was somewhat spacious, the only problem was it was 50 minutes away from the centre!

The final 6 days in the village revolved around my host sisters wedding and wrapping up the two months of preparations that will culminate in the big event with almost 300 attendees. During this final few days I also helped my host father press the remaining grapes after fermentation. We used a press that I could estimate modestly was almost 60 years old and still working absolutely perfectly. This was the first year I was

watched the entire process from start to finish and it is too bad I will not be able to taste the tasty imbibing result.

As for the wedding, the last few days were filled with a brigade of women who prepared 30 stuffed ducks to supplement the caterers, and made stuffed cabbage leaves. The whole ordeal will start tomorrow at the bridegroom’s home, then will migrate to my home, then to the best woman/man’s home, then to the Mayor’s office to finalize documents, after to the church, and finally will end at the reception

I was able to squeeze in one last meal with the host family to celebrate my departure. I shared my gnoochi and sausage/peppers/onions recipe and we had a very nice dinner. My host mom was relieved that I took the liberty to prepare the meal myself. The day after I was rewarded by some unbelievable rabbit for lunch!

As for coming home, I am very excited about the next journey to begin. From Chicago to Tampa, Tampa to Moldova, and from here to wherever, I am just terribly anxious for the next chapter to begin. I have bought this domain name www.andrewmadock.com and I will be sure to keep current contact information available for the near future. All the best, and thank you for participating in this great adventure. My absolute best, Andrew

Tommy, David and I at our last lunch in the city centre!

2nd to Last Post from Moldova...

The few volunteers left...

Just over two years ago I arrived here in Moldova. I remember the drive from the airport, the exuberant welcome from my soon-to-be colleagues, and the frenetic pace of those first few days in an often overlooked Moldova. The first ten weeks were full of trainings, intensive language and the obvious stressors of adjusting to a new culture, language and job.

Initially Moldova seemed so foreign. The smells, the crumbling buildings, the imposing Breznhev era bloc apartments and the ubiquitous mobster run café. I had to learn just the right cadence needed to navigate the streets and market. I remember looking at menus out to dinner and having each meal having an element of surprise as I never knew exactly what I was ordering. I remember how arduous the task was just putting together the words to order another beer, let alone the correct one.

The naiveté of those first weeks and months here was priceless, and it has surely been lost over the last two years. The arduous task of ordering a beer can now be done in freely in both Romanian and Russian. In fact, sometimes I slip into the hybrid combination of both languages that is so often used here. It is called Moldovan. I wonder if I can write on my resume that I speak both Romanian and Moldovan?

My service was rich with experiences, monumental peaks, and the ever rare onerous moment. Work came, finished, and left, and at times returned again. At times ennui could take over, but a great book and the ‘Moldovan Latte (milk from cow + instant coffee)’ or ‘Moldovan Codru (the famous Bordeaux style Cab Merlot)’ could stand in as the perfect remedy.

I worked diligently at my microfinance bank in my small village. In my free time I collaborated with an international women’s initiative and taught in depth business courses. I mentored innumerable students in my village, and implemented a few ecological projects. I learned that I enjoy teaching after designing and implementing a basic entrepreneurship course.

I remember my first St. Andrew day here, my first wedding, celebrating New Years twice each year, once for the west, and once for Russia. I remember my first ‘International Women's Day’ here oddly only celebrated in the former Soviet Union. I learned how to make a Moldovan barbecue, or frigarui, or Шашлык. I learned how to make a proper Russian borscht as well as many other Moldovan staples here. I learned how to make wine!

So what are my peers thinking at this point their own service? Well we came in a group of just over 40 volunteers. As of October 21, there will be just 21 closing their service properly and on time. Some volunteers left for school, some just didn’t enjoy their experience, and some just left precipitously for the next chapter.

Two of our female volunteers are bringing home Moldovan husbands and one of the guys a Moldovan wife! They chose spouses as their souvenirs, it might be a little to late for me to find a wife, but I am in the market for a Soviet era map. At least a map is purchasable at the market (not as if women aren’t sadly purchasable somewhere else here).

All the best! Please check back for one last post!

my 24th!

let's have a cultural exchange ... teaching the moldovans beer pong and flip cup

forty litres (roughly 122 beers later)

the participants, I assure you all left satiated

my birthday dinner, small but tasty, menu below

duck stuffed with sweet meats and cornmeal - I actually did not help with this, but I am going to learn how to prepare this item before I leave Moldova.

rosemary and parsley stuffed mushrooms

roasted pepper cold pasta salad

"limba soacra" "mother in law's toung" -fried egglpant with garlic sauce and tomato

wasabi shrimp

sweet beet root salad with orange and toasted walnuts

the 'masa' table, ready to go!

Moldova, Camp, Ukraine

Politically, gastronomically, and personally July has proved to be very eventful month. The cherries have left, and succulent peaches are peddled through the markets. Pears are just beginning to ripen. Pictured at left are some kebabs with authentic Turkish seasonings from my trip in March. A Chişinău blonde beer sits just behind the plates. The couscous was donated to me from a volunteer leaving early. A welcomed gift. Just below are some homemade gnocchi with mushroom, blue cheese, and Crème fraîche. I normally finish with cognac, but because I'm essentially in the USSR I substituted some vodka.

Politically the democratic opposition has finally overcome the incumbent Communist party. Per the constitution the parliment has been dissolved since the original election which failed to form a coalition and elect a president. Here is a link to a great New York Times article. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/31/world/europe/31moldova.html?hp



Pictured here is a small picnic at sunset near what my village calls the 'pool.' In reality it is a agricultural holding pond that was held over from the Soviet Union. Next to me is Igor my host father's tractor driver, and further left is Artor my host sister's fiance. My addition was tomato basil penne. Their addition was bread with a scary pate topped with a sardine and cucumber. Tasty. Of course we are holding a beer in hand!

Odessa, Ukraine is one of my favorite cities. It is broken and polished at the same time. 100 thousand euro cars wizz by next to 1980's soviet era Ladas. One can eat high end sushi on one street, and find a dollar beer sold on the beach just 1oo meters away. Pictured at the left is one of my favorite vistas from the centre. This is one of the busiest ports in east Europe, and it is mesmerizing to watch with a beer in hand.


Here is Will and his wife Harmony and I standing before the Potempkin Stairs that extend from the opera to the port. They are an archectual marvel. From the bottom you can only see the stairs, and from the top down you can only see the landings.







Captain Morgan's Bar! One of the best mojito's I have ever had! European style with mulled ice and plenty of rough sugar cane at the bottom of the highball glass.







The crowded Odessa Beaches. You can have a 40 minute massage for just over 6 dollars at your beach chair. A beer is just over a dollar; chips are the same price. Fruit, pastries, and dried fish are peddled here as well.






I thought I should show you all that it is possible to find Indian food! The whole group of us in Odessa were on a mission to find this meal. We actually arrived at the swank hotel Londonskaya per a reccomendation and were given menus. The menues looked like mediocre 'contemporary european' cuisine, but we knew we were in the right place given everyone working in the hotel, and the only other filled table, were Indians. We politly asked for the 'special' menu, and it was explained to us the special menu was only in Russian. We then proceeded to just basically list of things we normally order and were even surprized with some samosas to start!
This was the second summer I volunteered for Winrock International's Summer School of Leadership. Fifty five young women from vocational schools throughout Moldova arrived for a diverse curriculum of lessons over 8 days. The program was focused on a business training where groups of three to five young women worked to creat a viable business plan. Gender equality, family planning, and self esteem were talked as well. In the girls' free time we had a bonfire, badminton, beach volleyball, friendship bracelets, and made pinatas. Four male counsellors, and eight female counsellors prepared presentations from eight am until 10 pm. I was the only american present. Pictured here is my (the male) counsellors' cabin.

Our huge bonfire. All the young women collected the wood and the guys put it together. It burned hot and quick.









Some of the great young women that participated in the Summer School of Leadership.









Some more of the girls. Some of them actually cried on the last day and asked if the camp could be extended!

Russia!

Salute! I want to share some of my photos with you all from my recent trip to Moscow and St. Petersburg, Russia. I apologize if my explanations will not be entirely diffuse, but I think the photos really do speak for themselves.

Pictured here is the facade directly opposite the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.

The Hermitage Museum. Not quite as organized as the Louvre, but the collection is just as impressive.

St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow takes an impressive stance looking over Red Square. The interior of the cathedral actually reveals 9 separate smaller cathedrals all interconnected.





Here is the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow. Originally another stood until the communist tore it down and soon after constructed a large swimming pool. The estimated cost of this cathedral was 345 millions US dollars.

Looking out to the Gulf of Finland from Peter the Great's summer palace, Peterof.

The Cambridge 'blokes' the first night out in St. Petersberg.

The grand steps to entering Peterof. All of the fountains are gravity powered and run 10 hours per day. I arrived here via a hydrofoil from the hermitage in St. Petersburg.

One of the primary canals in St. Petersburg. At the far end is the Cathedral of Christ the Savior of Spilled Blood. It was built on the site of the murder of Tsar Peter and was funded by different communities throughout Russia. Simply Marvelous.

Looking from the Gulf of Finland to the regal facade of Peterof.

Here are oil flare channel markers in the center of St. Petersburg.

THE KREMLIN! I finally was able to connect to all the slavophile reading I do after a long walk through the grounds and the Armoury.

I met these guys, their colleugues, and a few girls out in St. Petersburg. The germans proved worthy drinking mates. We actually all met up at the same bar called 'Dacha', summer house in Russian, a few different nights.

The museum quality metro. Massive, ornate, and better timed than a Swiss. Trains arrive every 2 minutes.

Drinks anyone?

My buddy Andy, pictured far right, and his friends all living in Moscow. I was able to visit their apartment and see how a true Moscovite lives!

Finally! I queued for to see Lenin's embalmed body for just under an hour! It was a surreal experience. I actually went straight from the 'Comrade' hostel to the Mausoleum on arrival to Moscow.

I treated myself to some great food! Pictured here is some phenomenal sushi and some food from the Republic of Georgia! The Georgian food was a real treat, and the restaurant experience was intense considering the didn't speak any English and my Russian is limited at best!