As I look back and try to find the words to conclude my part of the Supercross08 project, I sit here speechless and dumbfounded at how to put my thoughts and memories in print. How can I sum up such a moving project? How can I close such a significant chapter of my life? How can I document how much this entire journey has meant to me? These questions leave me with a blank mind. I can't possibly put the experiences I've had into words. But like everything in my life that's brought me to this point - by heck, I'll try!
I'll start with the numbers because they're my favorite part. At the end of 201 days, my daily expenses average was $26.89! This number, in USD, includes every meal, snack, hostel, hotel, toilet, language lesson, admission, fee, visa, bribe, bus/train ticket, taxi, and four flights (Morocco to Tunisia, Tunisia to Egypt, Ukraine to Finland, and Latvia to Russia) since the start of our project! It doesn't include the flight to Europe at the beginning and the flight home at the end because I pulled a trick with those tickets. The average includes every last dime I spent on the project, because I record my expenses like a crazy man. Had the value of the dollar been a bit more stable, I really believe I could have managed the $25 per day average I was shooting for.
Supercross08 included 11 official projects in seven different countries, but it hardly stops there. I traveled through 17 countries on this trip and in each country, and in each situation, I sought an opportunity for culture exchange through dialogue. The Supercross08 mission and ideals have always been in the back of my head and seemed to come out continuously like an ever-flowing river with every person I met.
It wasn't all hippie happiness and idealism, though. To use my honesty skills completely, I had quite a few rough times on the road. Random encounters with drunk bums and other burdens on society would initiate unfortunate episodes of negative thought in my head. Bureaucratic red tape, cultural norms that were so different from my own, illogical and destructive community behavior, gender differences and religious dependence, being charged twice or more the local price because I'm white, and other encounters with discrimination took a great toll on my psyche.
It may have seemed like a holiday vacation at times to many of the people following my adventures, but it's not the easiest thing in the world to do the things I've done. I've missed my friends and family something awful and I wasn't always able to maintain my natural positive energy as much as I would have liked.
By no means did the tough times sour the entirety of my trip, though. My overall experience was hugely positive and enlightening. I made so many personal gains, it will be tough to find anything else in my life that will allow me to grow so much in such a short amount of time. If I had the opportunity to change anything about these last months, it would be to have created a possibility for Tim to remain on the project with me and see it out. We worked extremely well together and offered a synergy that the people with whom we met won't soon forget.
Quite early on, I recognized how powerful of a project Tim and I had undertaken. And we accomplished our mission with greatness! Tim and I each contributed such different skills that we created a team capable of intense, in-depth bridge building between cultures often at odds. Tim is a master at engaging an audience and maintaining their attention. And beyond that, he brought the ability to control a discussion to such a degree it was like watching someone squeeze the last little drop out of a lemon, extracting every last bit of information there was to offer. I complimented his skills with my own charm. I over calculated and over thought the tiniest of details in my attempt to make sure everything was perfect. Researching, developing, outlining, formatting, organizing and implementing occupied my mind, for long hours at a time, with each individual event. But it wasn't all about project development and implementation. On a very practical and real level, Tim and I did amazing things.
I touched people like I never thought I was capable of doing. I was moved by people, who I never expected to be moved by. I met people that impressed me so incredibly much, I feel like writing about it takes away from it's significance. My respect for youth organizations and their participants grew exponentially after encountering such brilliant and refreshing minds! The potential I saw was more than anything I could have ever expected! It was inspiring! It showed a true hope for humanity. So often we hear about conflict and war, fear and unknown. It makes us feel like the world is spinning out of control, falling down a bottomless pit of despair. Of course, it's not a bottomless pit if "The End of The World" has anything to say about it. I think that's a very real message portrayed in our world society. But after my experiences with such dynamic people, I find grand relief in the thought of the next generation taking the reigns.
There is still good in this world - I can feel it! I'm not ignorant to the fact that there is also extreme conflict and problems the likes of which are beyond help through simple dialogue. But I'm a subscriber to the ideal that if everyone opened their minds a bit and tried to respect other people simply because they're human, then the misunderstandings that lead to fear and the dark side of the force would be greatly reduced. Perhaps even to an insignificant level.
We can all start with something simple: A common thought we may have about a person from another culture is that something about them or something they do is 'weird' or 'strange'. We can't separate people in terms of 'weird' and 'normal'. We must change these words in our vocabularies and internal dialogues to 'different' AND we must have the capacity to understand that 'different' is not a separatory label. It's OK that not everyone on the planet is just like us. Joe isn't weird because he eats with sticks instead of a fork - he's different, and that's fine. Sally isn't strange because she covers her head when she goes outside - she's different, and she's not hurting anyone. Sam isn't stupid because he doesn't study world politics or geography - he has different priorities, and that's his choice. But at the end of the day, we all have to live on the same planet, together.
A simple opening of the mind to be aware of other peoples' rights to make choices for themselves; an attempt at noticing the common ground we all share; an effort to respect someone different even though we may not understand them. These are the first steps towards building a sustainable and peaceful future in our world - and we all have a place at the helm, together.
Peace, love, and happiness! Thank you for reading! The End!
This may be the end of my postable Supercross08 stories, but more adventures are to come. I'm going to continue to use this blog while I'm in grad school. I'll be in Costa Rica for one year at the United Nations Mandated University for Peace studying Natural Resources and Peace! But of course, outside of study time I'll be exploring Costa Rica and neighboring countries. I'm sure something will happen that's worth a story or two. I'm flying down on the 8th of August - so check back sometime when you're bored and maybe there'll be something to read!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
It's a Library in Mongolia! Don't Forget to Pack a Raincoat!
For a final project, to complete the Supercross08 journey, I was to meet with The Lotus Children's Centre to learn about their organization. However, the directions I was given to meet with them, took me to an abandoned building, decorated with a 'Lotus Children's Centre' sign.
I got off the bus and it was pouring rain! It wasn't so cold and the directions I had said the building was close. So I just went for it - there wasn't really any shelter anywhere anyway. I ended up soaking wet by the time I found the abandoned "Lotus Center". I found a way around the locked gates to the property but had no luck banging on the doors of the building. OK, it was obvious that it was abandoned, but by heck, someone was expecting me - I had good email contact with them. Surely there would be someone there! Not soon after I started pounding on one of the doors, an old man emerged halfway from his yurt, behind the school, and yelled something at me. I walked over to him and asked him if he knew were Ben Rodgers was, but he didn't understand anything. I told him I was looking for 'Lotus' and pointed to the building. He motioned to me, "No." His growling dogs were getting closer so I thought I'd make a strategic exit. I left, frustrated, while his dogs followed me to the gate, barking their mad heads off! I asked a few more people in the community about 'Lotus', pointing to the building and got the same response every time, 'No. No one home.'
Dripping and pissed, I made my way back to the bus stop. However, all was not lost! My host, Begzsuren, happens to be working at the Ulaanbaatar Public Library on a major project at the moment.
Begs, head of the department for information processing as well as library automation and computerization, is working on a project for the library to make it the first of it's kind in all of Mongolia. The project is to open the public library to the public! Sounds simple. Traditionally, the way the library worked was you walked up to the counter and asked the librarian for a particular book. The librarian disappeared and, if you were lucky, they returned with that book for you to check out. Not anymore.
What Begs is creating, is a more Western style library with loads of books on shelves for the public to peruse through and check out if they like. The Ulaanbaatar Public Library's slogan is "Knowledge Bank" and beyond cataloging some 80,000 books to be shelved and accessible to the public by September 1st, Begs is also trying to create an atmosphere of interest in libraries.
"Can you imagine," he inquired, "if a radio interviewer asked, 'Where do you read books?' Maybe no citizen answers, 'In the library.' I want to change this." And so it was that we had a brainstorming session to create public participation in the local library.
Begs has been to quite a few countries on library training programs, including the United States, where he learned different methods and designs of public libraries. He's carefully calculated what his library is capable of. Already he has designated two large rooms to be reading rooms, one separated room to be a children's reading room, and another smaller room for family reading. But still, that doesn't necessarily mean that people will come to the library.
He mentioned one technique that he picked up from an American library in which each month had a theme to it. In this technique, he could, for example, promote reading about the air quality in Mongolia. Not too bad of an idea, but there's not much incentive. I suggested an addition to his idea that mimicked my Environmental Discussion Group from Bulgaria. I suggested that he promote reading topics about air quality in Mongolia and then at the end of the month, invite some kind of professional to lead a discussion or make a presentation on the topic. Perhaps the governmental official in charge of the department of air quality or the environment would enjoy a chance to meet people and share some issues he finds important.
I also pitched the idea of having a weekly poetry reading, where different folks from the community could come, once a week, and read aloud the poems they've written. It would be a way to get the community more involved with the library. It would also inspire more citizens to become active members of their community. Begs liked the idea, but there are space issues. Unfortunately, they're not space issues that the likes of Captain Kirk can solve. Begs is more thinking that there isn't enough room for something like that. I tried to imply that a well designed schedule of the smaller rooms should rectify the concern over space - kids and family rooms during the afternoon, and one room set aside for an hour a week for poems! We'll see. With their September 1st opening date, and 80,000 books to categorize, events are likely to come a bit later.
The last blockbuster I had to offer was to create a comfortable reading environment for potential readers. I remembered the concept from back home that Barnes and Noble uses in cahoots with Starbucks to get folks to come in and read. I explained that maybe a cafe, offering tea, coffee, water, or juice, would be an ideal environment to invite folks from the community to come in and read!
Begs remembered that he had seen a cafeteria in the U.S. and pondered the thought a while. I think he liked the idea, but again, there's lots of work to do at the moment. And that's the thing about development - it goes in steps. Just like the traditional Mongolian games he's been teaching me, Begs has the first few steps of the opening of this library well planned out and mastered!
There are three people I've met in my life that truly inspire me to be better than I think I can be, and Begs is one of these people. I know he'll succeed, because that's what he does. If not on the first time, he'll learn from each step and eventually conquer the mountain of development.
I got off the bus and it was pouring rain! It wasn't so cold and the directions I had said the building was close. So I just went for it - there wasn't really any shelter anywhere anyway. I ended up soaking wet by the time I found the abandoned "Lotus Center". I found a way around the locked gates to the property but had no luck banging on the doors of the building. OK, it was obvious that it was abandoned, but by heck, someone was expecting me - I had good email contact with them. Surely there would be someone there! Not soon after I started pounding on one of the doors, an old man emerged halfway from his yurt, behind the school, and yelled something at me. I walked over to him and asked him if he knew were Ben Rodgers was, but he didn't understand anything. I told him I was looking for 'Lotus' and pointed to the building. He motioned to me, "No." His growling dogs were getting closer so I thought I'd make a strategic exit. I left, frustrated, while his dogs followed me to the gate, barking their mad heads off! I asked a few more people in the community about 'Lotus', pointing to the building and got the same response every time, 'No. No one home.'
Dripping and pissed, I made my way back to the bus stop. However, all was not lost! My host, Begzsuren, happens to be working at the Ulaanbaatar Public Library on a major project at the moment.Begs, head of the department for information processing as well as library automation and computerization, is working on a project for the library to make it the first of it's kind in all of Mongolia. The project is to open the public library to the public! Sounds simple. Traditionally, the way the library worked was you walked up to the counter and asked the librarian for a particular book. The librarian disappeared and, if you were lucky, they returned with that book for you to check out. Not anymore.
What Begs is creating, is a more Western style library with loads of books on shelves for the public to peruse through and check out if they like. The Ulaanbaatar Public Library's slogan is "Knowledge Bank" and beyond cataloging some 80,000 books to be shelved and accessible to the public by September 1st, Begs is also trying to create an atmosphere of interest in libraries.
"Can you imagine," he inquired, "if a radio interviewer asked, 'Where do you read books?' Maybe no citizen answers, 'In the library.' I want to change this." And so it was that we had a brainstorming session to create public participation in the local library.Begs has been to quite a few countries on library training programs, including the United States, where he learned different methods and designs of public libraries. He's carefully calculated what his library is capable of. Already he has designated two large rooms to be reading rooms, one separated room to be a children's reading room, and another smaller room for family reading. But still, that doesn't necessarily mean that people will come to the library.
He mentioned one technique that he picked up from an American library in which each month had a theme to it. In this technique, he could, for example, promote reading about the air quality in Mongolia. Not too bad of an idea, but there's not much incentive. I suggested an addition to his idea that mimicked my Environmental Discussion Group from Bulgaria. I suggested that he promote reading topics about air quality in Mongolia and then at the end of the month, invite some kind of professional to lead a discussion or make a presentation on the topic. Perhaps the governmental official in charge of the department of air quality or the environment would enjoy a chance to meet people and share some issues he finds important.I also pitched the idea of having a weekly poetry reading, where different folks from the community could come, once a week, and read aloud the poems they've written. It would be a way to get the community more involved with the library. It would also inspire more citizens to become active members of their community. Begs liked the idea, but there are space issues. Unfortunately, they're not space issues that the likes of Captain Kirk can solve. Begs is more thinking that there isn't enough room for something like that. I tried to imply that a well designed schedule of the smaller rooms should rectify the concern over space - kids and family rooms during the afternoon, and one room set aside for an hour a week for poems! We'll see. With their September 1st opening date, and 80,000 books to categorize, events are likely to come a bit later.
The last blockbuster I had to offer was to create a comfortable reading environment for potential readers. I remembered the concept from back home that Barnes and Noble uses in cahoots with Starbucks to get folks to come in and read. I explained that maybe a cafe, offering tea, coffee, water, or juice, would be an ideal environment to invite folks from the community to come in and read!Begs remembered that he had seen a cafeteria in the U.S. and pondered the thought a while. I think he liked the idea, but again, there's lots of work to do at the moment. And that's the thing about development - it goes in steps. Just like the traditional Mongolian games he's been teaching me, Begs has the first few steps of the opening of this library well planned out and mastered!
There are three people I've met in my life that truly inspire me to be better than I think I can be, and Begs is one of these people. I know he'll succeed, because that's what he does. If not on the first time, he'll learn from each step and eventually conquer the mountain of development.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
It's a Holiday in Mongolia! It's Tough, Kid, but It's Life!
Couchsurfing in Mongolia proved to be quite difficult. There aren't a whole lot of participants in this area so I gambled and sent requests out to people with no references or information or anything!
My first hosts lived in a nicer house than I'll ever own, but I didn't stay with them long after they put me to work as a consultant for their blossoming tourism business. They did, however, put me in touch with my next host who wasn't even a Couchsufing participant until he met me.
Begzsuren, or Begs for short, is a software engineer working at the Ulaanbaatar Public Library. We chatted for a bit and after having cleared his decision with his wife, Mungunsoyombo, he agreed to take me in for a couple nights.
Begs, 32, and his wife, 31, have a gorgeous family consisting of one son named Tuguldur, 9, and three daughters, Manujin (her name means "our daughter"), 6, Gaadmaa (her name means "clever or smiley woman"), 3, and Mungulun, 1. The youngest child's name translates to something of an implication. It implies that she will bring the family money. And consistent with Mongolian law, that's just what another child does.
In Mongolia, at the moment, the government is giving aid to families with children under 16 and also inspiring population growth in a country the size of Alaska, but with a population of less than three million. Each month, the government gives approximately $3 per child, and each quarter, they give approximately $25 per child. This means that Begs' family of six pulls in around $550 in a year from the government for having four kids. This is a huge help considering that the average salary here is about $1500. Financial bonuses from the government are not so unheard of here.
Just before my arrival, a riot broke out over election fraud and caused a 4-day state of emergency. The "winning" party's headquarters were burned, 5 people were killed, and more than 200 were injured. Mongolia has a history similar to that of Bulgaria, occupation (instead of Turkish, it was Manchurian - Chinese), communism (good old Russia, spreading the love), and a young government still trying to figure out what democracy is. Corruption seems to fill the description of democracy at the moment. The recent discoveries of large deposits of copper, gold, and coal bring hopes of some wealth potential for the country, but the fear of loss due to politicians makes the community uneasy. The political game here makes me laugh as it's described to me. What's the difference between the parties? Begs explained that democratic party is offering every citizen approximately $1000 if elected, and the socialist party is offering $1500. The socialist party won.
This situation frustrates me, as I've spent so much time and effort working and volunteering in the development field for the last few years. These types of politics completely unravel the types of things I, and other development folks do. I'm still stuck on the opinion that a mentality change is the first step, and best way to initiate positive community development. Get people to see the future a bit and teach them to take some responsibility for their impact on society. But motivation for progress goes out the window faster than a cigarette butt in these ex-communist societies where corrupt politicians seem to be re-elected time and again.
As frustrating as it is for me, it seems like it's barely background noise to the people I'm staying with. This beautiful family of six lives in a small home on a hillside, on the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar. Their home was built by Begs and his brother a couple summers ago and is in the area of about 200 square feet, though there are plans for a small expansion later this summer. Their yard is too rocky to grow anything other than grass, but that suits Begs' cows just fine. Intermitently thoughout the yard are old tires in which Begs collects soil until there's enough to grow some vegetables. Their home has electricity, but no running water or any plumbing of any kind. Bent particle-boards line the ceiling and wooden planks make up the floor. There are two beds that the entire family of six shares, one double and one twin. It may sound like a tough way to live to the western ear, but these people find happiness very easily.
My Mongolian hosts welcomed me with smiles and curiosity. The kids giggled and laughed when I made eye contact with them and they could barely stand it when I tried to tell them hello in their own language. The entire truth be told, though, the youngest daughter cried when I entered their home. I scared her. I don't think the kids have ever seen a foreigner before. Begs told me that when someone arrives and brings rain with them, they're good luck! I told him I must be super lucky then, because I could see a storm moving in from the mountains. About an hour later I saw a lightning bolt strike something across the valley and ignite a fire that burned for a good long while. Shortly after that we lost electricity and spent the night playing traditional Mongolian games by candlelight.
On the long winter nights, Begs explained, they entertain themselves with simple and complex games designed to pass the time and develop the mind. There were several puzzles of rings and rods that you had to unlock and lock and such - but to tell the truth, I was too tired to understand them. However, before those were introduced, he showed me some games that utilize a bone found in the knee of the hind legs of sheep. My two favorite games were called, "Flicking Bones" and "Bone Guessing"! I played with the kids, but lost pretty much every time. It was lots of fun, and the kids loved me! I like to think that was because of my winning smile and heartwarming laugh... But it may have had something to do with the fact that I brought them some candy.
For the last few months, I've been lugging around a big pack of my favorite kind of licorice in hope of meeting someone that would appreciate it more than I! With the smiles I was seeing, I considered my hope easily accomplished! Begs taught his family the English words, "Thank you!" as he's the only English speaker, and they took turns trying to pronounce it for me. That was good for a laugh for everyone. A while later, we all washed our feet before crawling into bed. They laid some blankets on the floor for me, and then marveled in disbelief that I insisted on using my sleeping bag. They laughed at me, as they'd never seen anyone sleep in one before and were certain I would freeze to death at night! I didn't. And I was up around 5 AM to help go get drinking water. About a kilometer away is the nearest source of water for them so every now and again they have to make trips with a 50 gallon barrel to resupply.
Parting for my day in the city I asked how to say, "Have a nice day!" Begs told me that that phrase doesn't exist in Mongolian so I repeated what he says on his way out to work, "Obey your mother!"
My first hosts lived in a nicer house than I'll ever own, but I didn't stay with them long after they put me to work as a consultant for their blossoming tourism business. They did, however, put me in touch with my next host who wasn't even a Couchsufing participant until he met me.
Begzsuren, or Begs for short, is a software engineer working at the Ulaanbaatar Public Library. We chatted for a bit and after having cleared his decision with his wife, Mungunsoyombo, he agreed to take me in for a couple nights.
Begs, 32, and his wife, 31, have a gorgeous family consisting of one son named Tuguldur, 9, and three daughters, Manujin (her name means "our daughter"), 6, Gaadmaa (her name means "clever or smiley woman"), 3, and Mungulun, 1. The youngest child's name translates to something of an implication. It implies that she will bring the family money. And consistent with Mongolian law, that's just what another child does.
In Mongolia, at the moment, the government is giving aid to families with children under 16 and also inspiring population growth in a country the size of Alaska, but with a population of less than three million. Each month, the government gives approximately $3 per child, and each quarter, they give approximately $25 per child. This means that Begs' family of six pulls in around $550 in a year from the government for having four kids. This is a huge help considering that the average salary here is about $1500. Financial bonuses from the government are not so unheard of here.
Just before my arrival, a riot broke out over election fraud and caused a 4-day state of emergency. The "winning" party's headquarters were burned, 5 people were killed, and more than 200 were injured. Mongolia has a history similar to that of Bulgaria, occupation (instead of Turkish, it was Manchurian - Chinese), communism (good old Russia, spreading the love), and a young government still trying to figure out what democracy is. Corruption seems to fill the description of democracy at the moment. The recent discoveries of large deposits of copper, gold, and coal bring hopes of some wealth potential for the country, but the fear of loss due to politicians makes the community uneasy. The political game here makes me laugh as it's described to me. What's the difference between the parties? Begs explained that democratic party is offering every citizen approximately $1000 if elected, and the socialist party is offering $1500. The socialist party won.
This situation frustrates me, as I've spent so much time and effort working and volunteering in the development field for the last few years. These types of politics completely unravel the types of things I, and other development folks do. I'm still stuck on the opinion that a mentality change is the first step, and best way to initiate positive community development. Get people to see the future a bit and teach them to take some responsibility for their impact on society. But motivation for progress goes out the window faster than a cigarette butt in these ex-communist societies where corrupt politicians seem to be re-elected time and again.
As frustrating as it is for me, it seems like it's barely background noise to the people I'm staying with. This beautiful family of six lives in a small home on a hillside, on the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar. Their home was built by Begs and his brother a couple summers ago and is in the area of about 200 square feet, though there are plans for a small expansion later this summer. Their yard is too rocky to grow anything other than grass, but that suits Begs' cows just fine. Intermitently thoughout the yard are old tires in which Begs collects soil until there's enough to grow some vegetables. Their home has electricity, but no running water or any plumbing of any kind. Bent particle-boards line the ceiling and wooden planks make up the floor. There are two beds that the entire family of six shares, one double and one twin. It may sound like a tough way to live to the western ear, but these people find happiness very easily.
My Mongolian hosts welcomed me with smiles and curiosity. The kids giggled and laughed when I made eye contact with them and they could barely stand it when I tried to tell them hello in their own language. The entire truth be told, though, the youngest daughter cried when I entered their home. I scared her. I don't think the kids have ever seen a foreigner before. Begs told me that when someone arrives and brings rain with them, they're good luck! I told him I must be super lucky then, because I could see a storm moving in from the mountains. About an hour later I saw a lightning bolt strike something across the valley and ignite a fire that burned for a good long while. Shortly after that we lost electricity and spent the night playing traditional Mongolian games by candlelight.
On the long winter nights, Begs explained, they entertain themselves with simple and complex games designed to pass the time and develop the mind. There were several puzzles of rings and rods that you had to unlock and lock and such - but to tell the truth, I was too tired to understand them. However, before those were introduced, he showed me some games that utilize a bone found in the knee of the hind legs of sheep. My two favorite games were called, "Flicking Bones" and "Bone Guessing"! I played with the kids, but lost pretty much every time. It was lots of fun, and the kids loved me! I like to think that was because of my winning smile and heartwarming laugh... But it may have had something to do with the fact that I brought them some candy.
For the last few months, I've been lugging around a big pack of my favorite kind of licorice in hope of meeting someone that would appreciate it more than I! With the smiles I was seeing, I considered my hope easily accomplished! Begs taught his family the English words, "Thank you!" as he's the only English speaker, and they took turns trying to pronounce it for me. That was good for a laugh for everyone. A while later, we all washed our feet before crawling into bed. They laid some blankets on the floor for me, and then marveled in disbelief that I insisted on using my sleeping bag. They laughed at me, as they'd never seen anyone sleep in one before and were certain I would freeze to death at night! I didn't. And I was up around 5 AM to help go get drinking water. About a kilometer away is the nearest source of water for them so every now and again they have to make trips with a 50 gallon barrel to resupply.
Parting for my day in the city I asked how to say, "Have a nice day!" Begs told me that that phrase doesn't exist in Mongolian so I repeated what he says on his way out to work, "Obey your mother!"
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
From Россия with Love!
One of the problems Tim and I encountered when searching for partner organizations, is that nothing seemed to exist in Russia. Perhaps this was due to the control and power that the Russian government enjoys over it's people? We figured that allowing a non-governmental organization probably wasn't in the cards for this country. But since Russia was on our route, and we wanted to incorporate it into our project, we were struck with a problem - How do we remain consistent to our project goals and gain insights into Russians' perspective on the world?
My whole Russian Visa Fiasco started in April when I first applied for a visa at the Russian Embassy in Moldova. Failure sent me to Ukraine, Finland, and finally to Estonia where I was able to acquire a visa! However, success didn't feel as it should have being that my 30 day visa had turned into 9 days, and my seven city itinerary had turned into two.
Despite my disappointment in the length of the Russian leg of my trip, I could not stop smiling while going through the airport song-and-dance to get to my first Siberian city, Novosibirsk.
I got to the airport in Riga, Latvia four hours early expecting problems. Just as my brilliant mind had prepared me, so I received my problems. I wasn't in the computer for the flight. I complained that I had done everything online and that there were no paper tickets, it was all electrical. I even showed her all the numbers I had written down from the confirmation email I received. "Those are billing numbers, not flight reservation numbers," she politely informed me. I had to hold in my thought of, 'Well, what the hell do you think I paid for?' Soon enough, however, she managed to locate someone on the phone who could verify that indeed I did pay for a ticket. Thanks! I arrived to Moscow at 10 pm and had four hours to find my connecting flight. Turns out, I needed all four hours.
Sitting in the Sheremetyevo airport, I stared at the flight information screen, dumbfounded at not being able to find my connection. After some time, I managed to find an information booth that still had a worker inside. She informed me that I was at the wrong terminal and that I'd have to take a bus to number 2. OK. Standing at the bus stop, I couldn't help but notice that no buses were coming. Hmmm. In super rough Russian I asked a gal standing near me if she new when the bus came. "Very rarely." she responded. Super. I went back inside and located a different information booth and asked again about my connecting flight. Banking on good old Russian inconsistency, I was rewarded with shuttle transfer information! In less than an hour, I was at terminal 2, standing in another security line.
I had forgotten to pour out my water when I got up to the x-ray machine and figured that security would simply confiscate it when I got there. Nope. My one liter water bottle was 2/3 full and the lady behind the x-ray let it slide! She said something to me, but upon seeing my patented smile-of-confusion that I gave her, she just turned to her colleague, shrugged and laughed. So I continued on to the gate.
I stood in a small room with a bunch of other people waiting for the shuttle to take us to the plane. I could see three no-smoking signs from where I stood. I could also see six people huddled around a trash can just beneath one of the signs - all of them smoking. The ticket guy walked through and said what I thought to be, "Hey, dumbasses, can't you see the signs? They say 'No Smoking!'" But perhaps he said something more to the affect of, "Hello." because the six smokers just looked up at him and then continued smoking.
After my lengthy night flight and quite a few time zones later, I found myself in Novosibirsk - the capital of Siberia and the center of Russia! I chose Novosibirsk as one of my two Russian cities because it's the hub for science in Russia. I had big dreams of setting up a discussion group with some science students or scientists to talk about the history of Russia's contributions to science. My host's brother was a PhD in physics. Her other brother, and her father were PhDs in Chemistry. My host was a fantastic gal that studied marketing, and she showed me a very unique side of Russia.
First on our agenda was a cat show. Not super scientific, but interesting in a certain light. Judges from all over Russia and one from Germany scored the cats of wacky cat-owners. I've never seen so much stress in a room over whether or not you could shake the brains out of a cat and have it not hiss or swipe at you. Pet-people are strange. Next up, was a cosmetics show.
Just as bizarre as the cat show, the cosmetics show was something I've never experienced. I was one of only three guys in the crowd, which to me was cool but seeing their faces I could tell they didn't share my opinion. The show was marketed as an instructional deal that my host's friend scored tickets to. But it ended up being a big sales pitch with mild entertainment and lunch. At least the lunch was nice.
I spent my last remaining time in Novosibirsk with my host and her friends at the city's 115th birthday celebration! It was a wild event! Streets were closed down and stages were erected all over the center. On the stages were different kinds of performances - youth dance teams that competed against each other, orchestras and opera singers, as well as some pop stars singing their silly pop music! It was a high energy day that not even the rain could spoil. The dance team competitions were my favorite. Different styles of Russian dance, traditional and modern, done with such enthusiasm and grace! I could have watched them forever!
My host took me to the train station for my departure from Novosibirsk. I took a leg of the Trans Siberian Railway that lasted 32.5 hours! Upon finding my place on the train, I discovered that two people were sitting in it. This was because their beds were above mine and mine was the communal area. So I got to share!
I really didn't know how anything worked, but before long the people near my place were all engaged in conversation with me. No one, of course, spoke English. We relied on my Bulgarian skills, which were taxed to the max! I felt like I was speaking like a beginner all over again - But I guess that's because I was. I was a beginning Russian speaker!
We managed to chat about all kinds of things - what I was doing there, politics, food, jokes, vodka, etc. The food thing was fun - All through Russia I was asked about cheeseburgers in America. "Is that why all Americans are fat?" and "Do you normally eat cheeseburgers for breakfast?" were common questions I received. I guess they're as blind as my question of, "Will someone please drink vodka with me?" I didn't get one single chance to try Russian vodka with Russians. I couldn't even find anyone that drank it. Sure there were stories... But no one wanted to drink with me. As the 32.5 hours of time progressed, I became "Andrewsha" to my new friends. The 'sha' ending on the name is a cute way of talking to your friends.
I arrived in Irkutsk late at night and had problems finding my host, but eventually I managed. My time in Irkutsk was largely not worth writing about, except for another festival that I happened upon. I'm lucky that way.
The Boyatski Festival celebrated the Asian tribes/people of Russia. They did all kinds of performances and blew my mind with what they could get their bodies to do! My favorite was the three person jump-rope! Dang!
Finally, my visa was set to expire so I jumped on another train bound for Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. It lasted 34 hours, but my time was easily spent conversing with a young couple on their honeymoon. He was from Australia and she was from Ireland. They'd been living in England and were taking a few months to travel to Australia. We shared travel stories and laughs - and finally, a bottle of vodka!
I had come to Russia with only a few days to find a project. I had hoped for a discussion group about science as a means to enter the mentality here and gain a new perspective. As I sat on the train with my new friends, telling them all about my Russian experience, I realized that my visa issues, festivals, shows, hosts, and adventures spoke loads about Russia itself. I smiled at the thought of being able to learn so much from a country in such a little amount of time. And with that I mentally prepared myself for my final destination - Mongolia!
A Mongolian police officer joined us in our cabin for the border crossing. He had been a participant in the Boyatski Festival in Irkutsk. As we crossed, Mongolian customs officials boarded the train, collected our passports, opened our bags, and searched the cabin. Our new buddy, grabbed our half-finished bottle of vodka from under some blankets where we hid it. I thought he was going to rat us out! I was pissed! But before I knew it, he was bribing the head customs officer with our vodka! He poured a big glass for him and the officer sat down with us. Hell if I was gonna let him drink all our vodka so I grabbed the mug and took some down between his sips! Ha! It was the wildest thing, ever! And our cabin mate did the same thing with the next official that came in, too!
Our vodka disappeared quickly, but I didn't complain because how often do you get a chance to drink with border officials?! We figure our buddy was bribing the officials because he was transporting weapons from the festival and didn't want to have to explain them. It worked. If you can't drink vodka with Russians, by heck, you certainly can with Mongolian border officials! Mongolia ought to be an interesting place.
My whole Russian Visa Fiasco started in April when I first applied for a visa at the Russian Embassy in Moldova. Failure sent me to Ukraine, Finland, and finally to Estonia where I was able to acquire a visa! However, success didn't feel as it should have being that my 30 day visa had turned into 9 days, and my seven city itinerary had turned into two.
Despite my disappointment in the length of the Russian leg of my trip, I could not stop smiling while going through the airport song-and-dance to get to my first Siberian city, Novosibirsk.
I got to the airport in Riga, Latvia four hours early expecting problems. Just as my brilliant mind had prepared me, so I received my problems. I wasn't in the computer for the flight. I complained that I had done everything online and that there were no paper tickets, it was all electrical. I even showed her all the numbers I had written down from the confirmation email I received. "Those are billing numbers, not flight reservation numbers," she politely informed me. I had to hold in my thought of, 'Well, what the hell do you think I paid for?' Soon enough, however, she managed to locate someone on the phone who could verify that indeed I did pay for a ticket. Thanks! I arrived to Moscow at 10 pm and had four hours to find my connecting flight. Turns out, I needed all four hours.
Sitting in the Sheremetyevo airport, I stared at the flight information screen, dumbfounded at not being able to find my connection. After some time, I managed to find an information booth that still had a worker inside. She informed me that I was at the wrong terminal and that I'd have to take a bus to number 2. OK. Standing at the bus stop, I couldn't help but notice that no buses were coming. Hmmm. In super rough Russian I asked a gal standing near me if she new when the bus came. "Very rarely." she responded. Super. I went back inside and located a different information booth and asked again about my connecting flight. Banking on good old Russian inconsistency, I was rewarded with shuttle transfer information! In less than an hour, I was at terminal 2, standing in another security line.
I had forgotten to pour out my water when I got up to the x-ray machine and figured that security would simply confiscate it when I got there. Nope. My one liter water bottle was 2/3 full and the lady behind the x-ray let it slide! She said something to me, but upon seeing my patented smile-of-confusion that I gave her, she just turned to her colleague, shrugged and laughed. So I continued on to the gate.
I stood in a small room with a bunch of other people waiting for the shuttle to take us to the plane. I could see three no-smoking signs from where I stood. I could also see six people huddled around a trash can just beneath one of the signs - all of them smoking. The ticket guy walked through and said what I thought to be, "Hey, dumbasses, can't you see the signs? They say 'No Smoking!'" But perhaps he said something more to the affect of, "Hello." because the six smokers just looked up at him and then continued smoking.
After my lengthy night flight and quite a few time zones later, I found myself in Novosibirsk - the capital of Siberia and the center of Russia! I chose Novosibirsk as one of my two Russian cities because it's the hub for science in Russia. I had big dreams of setting up a discussion group with some science students or scientists to talk about the history of Russia's contributions to science. My host's brother was a PhD in physics. Her other brother, and her father were PhDs in Chemistry. My host was a fantastic gal that studied marketing, and she showed me a very unique side of Russia.
First on our agenda was a cat show. Not super scientific, but interesting in a certain light. Judges from all over Russia and one from Germany scored the cats of wacky cat-owners. I've never seen so much stress in a room over whether or not you could shake the brains out of a cat and have it not hiss or swipe at you. Pet-people are strange. Next up, was a cosmetics show.
Just as bizarre as the cat show, the cosmetics show was something I've never experienced. I was one of only three guys in the crowd, which to me was cool but seeing their faces I could tell they didn't share my opinion. The show was marketed as an instructional deal that my host's friend scored tickets to. But it ended up being a big sales pitch with mild entertainment and lunch. At least the lunch was nice. I spent my last remaining time in Novosibirsk with my host and her friends at the city's 115th birthday celebration! It was a wild event! Streets were closed down and stages were erected all over the center. On the stages were different kinds of performances - youth dance teams that competed against each other, orchestras and opera singers, as well as some pop stars singing their silly pop music! It was a high energy day that not even the rain could spoil. The dance team competitions were my favorite. Different styles of Russian dance, traditional and modern, done with such enthusiasm and grace! I could have watched them forever!
My host took me to the train station for my departure from Novosibirsk. I took a leg of the Trans Siberian Railway that lasted 32.5 hours! Upon finding my place on the train, I discovered that two people were sitting in it. This was because their beds were above mine and mine was the communal area. So I got to share!
I really didn't know how anything worked, but before long the people near my place were all engaged in conversation with me. No one, of course, spoke English. We relied on my Bulgarian skills, which were taxed to the max! I felt like I was speaking like a beginner all over again - But I guess that's because I was. I was a beginning Russian speaker!
We managed to chat about all kinds of things - what I was doing there, politics, food, jokes, vodka, etc. The food thing was fun - All through Russia I was asked about cheeseburgers in America. "Is that why all Americans are fat?" and "Do you normally eat cheeseburgers for breakfast?" were common questions I received. I guess they're as blind as my question of, "Will someone please drink vodka with me?" I didn't get one single chance to try Russian vodka with Russians. I couldn't even find anyone that drank it. Sure there were stories... But no one wanted to drink with me. As the 32.5 hours of time progressed, I became "Andrewsha" to my new friends. The 'sha' ending on the name is a cute way of talking to your friends. I arrived in Irkutsk late at night and had problems finding my host, but eventually I managed. My time in Irkutsk was largely not worth writing about, except for another festival that I happened upon. I'm lucky that way.
The Boyatski Festival celebrated the Asian tribes/people of Russia. They did all kinds of performances and blew my mind with what they could get their bodies to do! My favorite was the three person jump-rope! Dang!
Finally, my visa was set to expire so I jumped on another train bound for Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. It lasted 34 hours, but my time was easily spent conversing with a young couple on their honeymoon. He was from Australia and she was from Ireland. They'd been living in England and were taking a few months to travel to Australia. We shared travel stories and laughs - and finally, a bottle of vodka!I had come to Russia with only a few days to find a project. I had hoped for a discussion group about science as a means to enter the mentality here and gain a new perspective. As I sat on the train with my new friends, telling them all about my Russian experience, I realized that my visa issues, festivals, shows, hosts, and adventures spoke loads about Russia itself. I smiled at the thought of being able to learn so much from a country in such a little amount of time. And with that I mentally prepared myself for my final destination - Mongolia!
A Mongolian police officer joined us in our cabin for the border crossing. He had been a participant in the Boyatski Festival in Irkutsk. As we crossed, Mongolian customs officials boarded the train, collected our passports, opened our bags, and searched the cabin. Our new buddy, grabbed our half-finished bottle of vodka from under some blankets where we hid it. I thought he was going to rat us out! I was pissed! But before I knew it, he was bribing the head customs officer with our vodka! He poured a big glass for him and the officer sat down with us. Hell if I was gonna let him drink all our vodka so I grabbed the mug and took some down between his sips! Ha! It was the wildest thing, ever! And our cabin mate did the same thing with the next official that came in, too!
Our vodka disappeared quickly, but I didn't complain because how often do you get a chance to drink with border officials?! We figure our buddy was bribing the officials because he was transporting weapons from the festival and didn't want to have to explain them. It worked. If you can't drink vodka with Russians, by heck, you certainly can with Mongolian border officials! Mongolia ought to be an interesting place.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Catch A Couch And You're Sitting On Top Of The World!
You've probably been asking this whole time, how does that Andrew kid keep finding those wonderful hosts he writes about? And if you haven't been asking, well then, you should be!
I've been participating in a project at http://www.couchsurfing.com/ that puts travelers in touch with one another. It's based on facilitating culture exchanges between travelers who want more than the typical tourist activities from their travels.
It works like this:
You may now be asking, is that Andrew kid crazy? He's been staying with complete strangers this whole time! Ok, so it's true I've been staying at the homes of complete strangers, but it's not so crazy! It just takes a bit of openness and flexibility because each situation is completely different!
I've stayed in amazingly clean and new apartments, and I've stayed in apartments where everything inside has been salvaged from city dumpsters. I've used showers more high tech than I've ever seen, and I've had to take a bucket bath, or go without. I've slept on the floor in a hallway, and I've slept in super comfortable beds in separate rooms. I've had to share a bed with a drunk, snoring, puking guy, and I've gotten to share a bed with a beautiful woman. I've been handed keys to the flat and been told 'see ya', and I've been locked in (and out) of flats for hours at a time. I've also been accompanied, non-stop, by my host so there's no need for a key! I've had to walk miles following poor directions to find my host's home, and I've been picked up at the airport and greeted with a hug. I've stayed with hosts as old as 60, and as young as 18. I've stayed with a host for as long as two weeks, and I've stayed with a host for as little as three hours.
I've been surfing couches since before our project began, and on this trip, I haven't had to pay for a hotel or hostel since early March! I've stayed with students, doctors, nurses, journalists, writers, translators, bankers, managers, engineers, artists, psychologists, teachers, factory workers, sailors, computer programers, Peace Corps Volunteers, program coordinators, cashiers, retired folks, unemployed people, sales people, gay people, transsexual people, straight people, buddhists, and just about every type of person you could think of! I've cooked meals for my hosts, and I've received meals from my hosts. I've had conversations that challenge my mind, and I've had conversations that challenge my patience. I've been entertained by wild stories and crazy people, and I've been bored with people that I fail to click with. I've made friends for a weekend, and I've made friends for life. I've shared laughs, ideas, inspiration, motivation, stories, recipes, and my super cool jacket with various hosts along the way! Every experience is totally different, and it's an adventure each time!
Here is a typical account of couchsurfing (And when I say 'typical' I mean totally unique!):
My host met me at the bus station and we went back to her apartment to drop off my stuff. We talked about university coursework and the differences between universities in Europe and the United States. Then we went off to meet her friends. It started raining so we just hung out in their apartment, cooked dinner and drank wine! They didn't have a corkscrew so they used a screw and a pair of pliars to get the cork out of the wine bottle! Clever girls!
Two nights later and one country to the south, I surfed the couch of the stage manager at The New Riga Theater, the largest theater in all of Latvia. I met my host at a landmark that we had talked about through emails. She took me to her flat and I dropped off my stuff and then we headed to the theater. It was the last performance of the season, Revizor (The Inspector General). She got me a free ticket in the second row and printed out summaries of the three acts in English. The opening scene went like this: The curtains were drawn and there were three roosters on the stage. Everything was silent. Suddenly, one cock mounted another and there was lots of unpleasant squawking! Everyone laughed! Then the actors came onto the stage, which was set up like an old Russian soup kitchen. They all did different things, working or eating, each making different noises that came together and made music! Music by kitchen utensils! I was taken, and it was intense! Then they started speaking Latvian and I had to consult my notes to figure out what was going on. Three hours later, the show finished and I became a new fan of theater performances! Since my host is connected, I got to spend the rest of the night at the after party with all the actors and managers and technicians! It was super cool! The very next night I was in a different city, a different country even, ice skating my brains out with my host and earning a quarter sized blister on the arch of my foot! Two days later, I used my sore foot to climb to the roof of a 15 story communist style apartment block that was never finished, to have donuts and tea for breakfast!
Of course, it's not all smiles, laughs, and free dinners. I've been stranded by someone telling me that it was ok to come to their town, but they didn't show up to meet me, and wouldn't answer my calls. I didn't have a backup plan prepared so I was pretty much stuck. And then there was the time that a drunk guy crawled into bed with me, puked and started snoring. Cigarette smoke always kills me so I usually try to avoid smokers... but it doesn't always happen. There are also those random, nasty dogs that hump my leg...
What Couchsurfing is, though, is fantastic - every time! No matter the level of happiness I achieve as an outcome from my experiences with Couchsurfing, each experience is enlightening. And that is what the project is designed for. As with Supercross08, the ideals are based on cultural understanding through direct contact and exchange. In fact, Couchsurfing has helped a great deal with our Supercross08 project. Tim and I have organized entire discussion groups through Couchsurfing contacts! But beyond that, the project lets us facilitate our goals on an individual, and daily, basis rather than in large organized, but infrequent groups. It's a powerful tool that gives impressive insight into whichever cultures of the world you happen to find yourself in. And it allows for great opportunity to share yourself and your own culture with the world!
I have experienced the kindness of strangers, and it's a wonderful thing! And to complete the exchange, I try to give as much kindness of myself, in the role of a stranger, as I possibly can! As a final thought, I'll share a song that's been stuck in my head for a few days, "Oooh baby, baby, it's a wild world! But I can get by just upon a smile!" That's how my version of the song goes, anyway. =)
If I've captured your curiosity, sign up for, and support, this culture exchange project at http://www.couchsurfing.com/! If you're curious about my experiences with Couchsurfing, take a look at my profile and see where I've been, who've I've surfed with, and what they've said about me - just click here!
I've been participating in a project at http://www.couchsurfing.com/ that puts travelers in touch with one another. It's based on facilitating culture exchanges between travelers who want more than the typical tourist activities from their travels.
It works like this:
- If you're a traveler (a person who loves to travel), but you're not currently traveling - you offer up your couch for fellow travelers. This gives them a place to stay while you both engage in cross cultural exchanges. But it's not just for lodging. Some people are uncomfortable with letting strangers stay at their homes, so they simply meet them for coffee or a drink, or show them around their city. The main idea, though, is to facilitate culture exchange through dialogue - just like our Supercross08 project!
- If you're a traveler on the road, you can search a database of fellow travelers and find someone who is willing to host you!
You may now be asking, is that Andrew kid crazy? He's been staying with complete strangers this whole time! Ok, so it's true I've been staying at the homes of complete strangers, but it's not so crazy! It just takes a bit of openness and flexibility because each situation is completely different!
I've stayed in amazingly clean and new apartments, and I've stayed in apartments where everything inside has been salvaged from city dumpsters. I've used showers more high tech than I've ever seen, and I've had to take a bucket bath, or go without. I've slept on the floor in a hallway, and I've slept in super comfortable beds in separate rooms. I've had to share a bed with a drunk, snoring, puking guy, and I've gotten to share a bed with a beautiful woman. I've been handed keys to the flat and been told 'see ya', and I've been locked in (and out) of flats for hours at a time. I've also been accompanied, non-stop, by my host so there's no need for a key! I've had to walk miles following poor directions to find my host's home, and I've been picked up at the airport and greeted with a hug. I've stayed with hosts as old as 60, and as young as 18. I've stayed with a host for as long as two weeks, and I've stayed with a host for as little as three hours.
I've been surfing couches since before our project began, and on this trip, I haven't had to pay for a hotel or hostel since early March! I've stayed with students, doctors, nurses, journalists, writers, translators, bankers, managers, engineers, artists, psychologists, teachers, factory workers, sailors, computer programers, Peace Corps Volunteers, program coordinators, cashiers, retired folks, unemployed people, sales people, gay people, transsexual people, straight people, buddhists, and just about every type of person you could think of! I've cooked meals for my hosts, and I've received meals from my hosts. I've had conversations that challenge my mind, and I've had conversations that challenge my patience. I've been entertained by wild stories and crazy people, and I've been bored with people that I fail to click with. I've made friends for a weekend, and I've made friends for life. I've shared laughs, ideas, inspiration, motivation, stories, recipes, and my super cool jacket with various hosts along the way! Every experience is totally different, and it's an adventure each time!
Here is a typical account of couchsurfing (And when I say 'typical' I mean totally unique!):
My host met me at the bus station and we went back to her apartment to drop off my stuff. We talked about university coursework and the differences between universities in Europe and the United States. Then we went off to meet her friends. It started raining so we just hung out in their apartment, cooked dinner and drank wine! They didn't have a corkscrew so they used a screw and a pair of pliars to get the cork out of the wine bottle! Clever girls!
Two nights later and one country to the south, I surfed the couch of the stage manager at The New Riga Theater, the largest theater in all of Latvia. I met my host at a landmark that we had talked about through emails. She took me to her flat and I dropped off my stuff and then we headed to the theater. It was the last performance of the season, Revizor (The Inspector General). She got me a free ticket in the second row and printed out summaries of the three acts in English. The opening scene went like this: The curtains were drawn and there were three roosters on the stage. Everything was silent. Suddenly, one cock mounted another and there was lots of unpleasant squawking! Everyone laughed! Then the actors came onto the stage, which was set up like an old Russian soup kitchen. They all did different things, working or eating, each making different noises that came together and made music! Music by kitchen utensils! I was taken, and it was intense! Then they started speaking Latvian and I had to consult my notes to figure out what was going on. Three hours later, the show finished and I became a new fan of theater performances! Since my host is connected, I got to spend the rest of the night at the after party with all the actors and managers and technicians! It was super cool! The very next night I was in a different city, a different country even, ice skating my brains out with my host and earning a quarter sized blister on the arch of my foot! Two days later, I used my sore foot to climb to the roof of a 15 story communist style apartment block that was never finished, to have donuts and tea for breakfast!
Of course, it's not all smiles, laughs, and free dinners. I've been stranded by someone telling me that it was ok to come to their town, but they didn't show up to meet me, and wouldn't answer my calls. I didn't have a backup plan prepared so I was pretty much stuck. And then there was the time that a drunk guy crawled into bed with me, puked and started snoring. Cigarette smoke always kills me so I usually try to avoid smokers... but it doesn't always happen. There are also those random, nasty dogs that hump my leg... What Couchsurfing is, though, is fantastic - every time! No matter the level of happiness I achieve as an outcome from my experiences with Couchsurfing, each experience is enlightening. And that is what the project is designed for. As with Supercross08, the ideals are based on cultural understanding through direct contact and exchange. In fact, Couchsurfing has helped a great deal with our Supercross08 project. Tim and I have organized entire discussion groups through Couchsurfing contacts! But beyond that, the project lets us facilitate our goals on an individual, and daily, basis rather than in large organized, but infrequent groups. It's a powerful tool that gives impressive insight into whichever cultures of the world you happen to find yourself in. And it allows for great opportunity to share yourself and your own culture with the world!
I have experienced the kindness of strangers, and it's a wonderful thing! And to complete the exchange, I try to give as much kindness of myself, in the role of a stranger, as I possibly can! As a final thought, I'll share a song that's been stuck in my head for a few days, "Oooh baby, baby, it's a wild world! But I can get by just upon a smile!" That's how my version of the song goes, anyway. =)
If I've captured your curiosity, sign up for, and support, this culture exchange project at http://www.couchsurfing.com/! If you're curious about my experiences with Couchsurfing, take a look at my profile and see where I've been, who've I've surfed with, and what they've said about me - just click here!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I Came To A Land Up Yonder!
I started applying for a Russian visa in Moldova, about a month ago. It required that I get an invitation from a Russian travel agency so I found one online willing to sell me one. They faxed me the invitation and I headed down to the embassy with high hopes!
I met with a big, unsmiling Russian man who spoke bits and pieces of English.
"This is not acceptable", he informed me. "We need the original invitation. Not a facsimile."
I explained that I don't have a mailing address and this was all I had access to. "Isn't there anything you can do?" I implied.
"No. This is our law."
Well son of a gun. A Russian telling me bribes are out of the question. Crap.
So I headed on to my next stop - Ukraine. The Russian embassy in Ukraine accepted my faxed copy of an invitation, but would only give me a 14 day visa. This, too, was not acceptable as I had calculated that I'd need the 30 day visa in order to see everything I wanted to see. The travel agency I bought the invitation from told me that the embassy in Finland was fax friendly and issued 30 day visas! Such inconsistency! Go Russia!
I traveled to Helsinki hoping to finish this hassle and a half that it's been trying to get a Russian visa worked out! Very frustrating, having to have to travel so far out of my way... but... Hot damn! Finland is cool! I haven´t breathed air this clean since the Great Portuguese Deluge of 08, when Tim and I witnessed the cleaning of the air by torrential rain falls as we tried to sleep under the clouds! It´s an amazing thing to have clear skies, clean streets, green all around, and air that is truly refreshing! And I´m staying in a capital city! It reminds me of a magical land called America. Or at least my part of America - the good old Pacific Northwest! The bad rap America gets for leading the world in pollution is overshadowing the fact that America is leading most of the world in environmental regulations.
On my way down to the embassy to get my visa for Russia, a bird shit on me. I thought to myself, 'Some cultures believe this to be a sign of good luck!' After four frustrating hours inside the embassy, I reminded myself, 'Some cultures also believe that eating the brains of your dead relatives gives you their wisdom...' I'm gonna make an effort to stick closer to my own culture from now on. And that means bird poop is bad - just like my luck.
I handed over my application documents (plural) and passport to the smiling lady at the Russian embassy.
"Oh," she said upon seeing my nationality. "You will have to wait two weeks to get your visa."
Two weeks!?!?
"Isn't there some kind of express service or something? I mean, there has to be another way! Isn't there anything we can do that's a little faster," I pleaded.
I'm running out of time and I don't have two weeks to wait!
"It's not a question about money," she answered without feeling. "It's the policy for all American citizens."
Nooowww I get it. Thanks Mr. Bush. Your failures continue to make my life abroad an interesting challenge.
Frown.
"Go sit down over there, this is going to take a while," she said. Yeah, two freakin weeks!
I sat and waited for her to process my papers and return with a bill for a visa. Some crazy old coot sat down next to me, as he and I were the only Americans in the joint.
"Yeah, I left the U.S. back in '55 when the politics started getting bad. Lived in Sweden til eight years ago. Been livin' in St. Petersburg ever since. I think Americans are the most brainwashed people I ever met. You ever heard of that aspartame? You know, aspartame? It's got that formaldehyde in it. It's in everything, too! What do you think they put it in food for?" Slight pause - finally. "I'll tell ya." Thanks. "It's for population control. It causes 92 symptoms and one of them is brain tumors!" What an introduction! And it continued! "You know that Jacque Cousteau fella? He said that we ought to be killing 360,000 people a day to keep the earth healthy, or clean, or green, or whatever. I'm not an expert."
"Hi. I'm Andrew." My introduction was quite a bit shorter than his, as I was pretty much speechless.
"Nice ta meet ya." He continued as I tried to figure out if anyone was paying attention around us. "Ya know, this world is run by three different groups of about 12 people and I can name 'em all. One of 'em is in Europe and the other two are in America. They control economies with their wealth!"
"Is that so?" I asked. "Then why is America's economy in the dumps right now?"
"You think they care about you?" he countered. "They don't care about you. These are 200 foot yacht people. Not 100 foot yacht people."
With a smile on my face at this situation, I said, "Well don't you think that if they had the chance, they'd like to be 300 foot yacht people?"
"I see your point," he said quietly. "But it's actually the credit industry that controls the world."
He got cut off by the mean lady who told me I would have to wait two weeks as she called him up to collect his papers. I was next.
She handed everything back to me and said, "You will have to go back to your country of origin to apply for a visa."
What?!?!?! Insane!!! I asked her if there was any reason why.
"Oh, sure. Lots of reasons!" she said with a strange exclamation.
"Well can I know them?" I asked, completely dumbfounded at this situation.
"I'm sorry. I can't discuss it with you."
Hhhhh...... This is all that damned bird's fault.
I priced out a ticket back home and figured it would be cheaper to just head south to Estonia to try for a visa there. 'How Many Russian Embassies Can Andrew Find?' will be the title of my book.
I walked up to the window, now forcing a smile as natural ones have all been spent, and handed the lady my documents that I had downloaded from their website. She threw them away and handed me a couple different ones that weren't available online. I filled them out and returned them. She stamped some things and cut some others and then told me to go stand over there. I said, "OK", which in Russian translates to 'Yes ma'am!'
After only a couple hours, she returned with a bill! Woo hoo! I had to pay some guy some money and they took my passport away! That may sound like a bad combination of events, but to me, it was the pure feeling of relief! No more Russian embassies! So now I wait. 15 days. They'll let me enter Russia on June 25, but I have to leave by July 5. My 30 day Russian trip is now nine. It's a pretty big country to cross in only nine days so I've decided not to sleep while I'm there.
Although I still don't have a visa in hand (or a passport for that matter), I'm still considering myself successful! After only four embassies and five or six weeks of trying! Not bad! And I've been witness to some amazing things along the way - as I've surely written about. Though some things I haven't written about. My time in Finland, for example. In this case, I'm gonna let the pictures do the typing.
Plenty more of these pictures, with a slight description if you click here!
Now then, be happy for me! I'm going to Russia!
I met with a big, unsmiling Russian man who spoke bits and pieces of English.
"This is not acceptable", he informed me. "We need the original invitation. Not a facsimile."
I explained that I don't have a mailing address and this was all I had access to. "Isn't there anything you can do?" I implied.
"No. This is our law."
Well son of a gun. A Russian telling me bribes are out of the question. Crap.
So I headed on to my next stop - Ukraine. The Russian embassy in Ukraine accepted my faxed copy of an invitation, but would only give me a 14 day visa. This, too, was not acceptable as I had calculated that I'd need the 30 day visa in order to see everything I wanted to see. The travel agency I bought the invitation from told me that the embassy in Finland was fax friendly and issued 30 day visas! Such inconsistency! Go Russia!
I traveled to Helsinki hoping to finish this hassle and a half that it's been trying to get a Russian visa worked out! Very frustrating, having to have to travel so far out of my way... but... Hot damn! Finland is cool! I haven´t breathed air this clean since the Great Portuguese Deluge of 08, when Tim and I witnessed the cleaning of the air by torrential rain falls as we tried to sleep under the clouds! It´s an amazing thing to have clear skies, clean streets, green all around, and air that is truly refreshing! And I´m staying in a capital city! It reminds me of a magical land called America. Or at least my part of America - the good old Pacific Northwest! The bad rap America gets for leading the world in pollution is overshadowing the fact that America is leading most of the world in environmental regulations.
On my way down to the embassy to get my visa for Russia, a bird shit on me. I thought to myself, 'Some cultures believe this to be a sign of good luck!' After four frustrating hours inside the embassy, I reminded myself, 'Some cultures also believe that eating the brains of your dead relatives gives you their wisdom...' I'm gonna make an effort to stick closer to my own culture from now on. And that means bird poop is bad - just like my luck.
I handed over my application documents (plural) and passport to the smiling lady at the Russian embassy.
"Oh," she said upon seeing my nationality. "You will have to wait two weeks to get your visa."
Two weeks!?!?
"Isn't there some kind of express service or something? I mean, there has to be another way! Isn't there anything we can do that's a little faster," I pleaded.
I'm running out of time and I don't have two weeks to wait!
"It's not a question about money," she answered without feeling. "It's the policy for all American citizens."
Nooowww I get it. Thanks Mr. Bush. Your failures continue to make my life abroad an interesting challenge.
Frown.
"Go sit down over there, this is going to take a while," she said. Yeah, two freakin weeks!
I sat and waited for her to process my papers and return with a bill for a visa. Some crazy old coot sat down next to me, as he and I were the only Americans in the joint.
"Yeah, I left the U.S. back in '55 when the politics started getting bad. Lived in Sweden til eight years ago. Been livin' in St. Petersburg ever since. I think Americans are the most brainwashed people I ever met. You ever heard of that aspartame? You know, aspartame? It's got that formaldehyde in it. It's in everything, too! What do you think they put it in food for?" Slight pause - finally. "I'll tell ya." Thanks. "It's for population control. It causes 92 symptoms and one of them is brain tumors!" What an introduction! And it continued! "You know that Jacque Cousteau fella? He said that we ought to be killing 360,000 people a day to keep the earth healthy, or clean, or green, or whatever. I'm not an expert."
"Hi. I'm Andrew." My introduction was quite a bit shorter than his, as I was pretty much speechless.
"Nice ta meet ya." He continued as I tried to figure out if anyone was paying attention around us. "Ya know, this world is run by three different groups of about 12 people and I can name 'em all. One of 'em is in Europe and the other two are in America. They control economies with their wealth!"
"Is that so?" I asked. "Then why is America's economy in the dumps right now?"
"You think they care about you?" he countered. "They don't care about you. These are 200 foot yacht people. Not 100 foot yacht people."
With a smile on my face at this situation, I said, "Well don't you think that if they had the chance, they'd like to be 300 foot yacht people?"
"I see your point," he said quietly. "But it's actually the credit industry that controls the world."
He got cut off by the mean lady who told me I would have to wait two weeks as she called him up to collect his papers. I was next.
She handed everything back to me and said, "You will have to go back to your country of origin to apply for a visa."
What?!?!?! Insane!!! I asked her if there was any reason why.
"Oh, sure. Lots of reasons!" she said with a strange exclamation.
"Well can I know them?" I asked, completely dumbfounded at this situation.
"I'm sorry. I can't discuss it with you."
Hhhhh...... This is all that damned bird's fault.
I priced out a ticket back home and figured it would be cheaper to just head south to Estonia to try for a visa there. 'How Many Russian Embassies Can Andrew Find?' will be the title of my book.
I walked up to the window, now forcing a smile as natural ones have all been spent, and handed the lady my documents that I had downloaded from their website. She threw them away and handed me a couple different ones that weren't available online. I filled them out and returned them. She stamped some things and cut some others and then told me to go stand over there. I said, "OK", which in Russian translates to 'Yes ma'am!'
After only a couple hours, she returned with a bill! Woo hoo! I had to pay some guy some money and they took my passport away! That may sound like a bad combination of events, but to me, it was the pure feeling of relief! No more Russian embassies! So now I wait. 15 days. They'll let me enter Russia on June 25, but I have to leave by July 5. My 30 day Russian trip is now nine. It's a pretty big country to cross in only nine days so I've decided not to sleep while I'm there.
Although I still don't have a visa in hand (or a passport for that matter), I'm still considering myself successful! After only four embassies and five or six weeks of trying! Not bad! And I've been witness to some amazing things along the way - as I've surely written about. Though some things I haven't written about. My time in Finland, for example. In this case, I'm gonna let the pictures do the typing.
Plenty more of these pictures, with a slight description if you click here!
Now then, be happy for me! I'm going to Russia!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Ukraine in the Membrane! Ukraine in the Brain!
A lot happened for me in Ukraine, unfortunately, nothing ended up being a Supercross08 project.
So instead of writing about my lack of cultural exchange activities, I will present photodocumentation of a beautiful and exciting place!
I stayed with a guy named Robert Jackson. I met Robert in the Peace Corps in Bulgaria - we were from different groups, but lived in the same city. Robert teaches photography in Kiev and has a few development projects going on.
This is a picture of the Arsenal factory in Kiev - one of the last strongholds of the Bolshevik Revolution.
Every weekend in Kiev, the town closes this main strip of the center, near Maidan, to traffic and opens it to pedestrians!
This picture is after a full day of people walking through town with their beers and vodkas listening to different street music, and a couple live concerts!
I got to see the campaign for the mayoral elections of Kiev and compare them to our own election processes. There were 76 candidates but the incumbent mayor managed to maintain his seat.
All over the city, the candidates put up booths like these and hired people to hand out propaganda. One popular trick empolyed by these candidates was to find a "friend" with the same name as an opposing candidate and pay them to run in the race! Clever!
Ukrainian fashion reminded me of a magical place called Bulgaria.
Hooray for Eastern Europe!
We spent five hours at a junk market searching for random camera things and just taking in the experience.
It was interesting to see what kinds of things would sell in Ukraine.
Robert took me to a village 70 kilometers outside of Kiev. We spent the day there hanging out with Robert's photography friend, Igor.
We hiked through the countryside to a resevoir and tried to get the perfect picture of the oncoming storm that almost took us over!
Spent a day checking out the Lavra - a religious site with lots of caves and orthodox churches and such.
Also checked out the war museum, topped with a monument of a towering metal woman holding a shield bearing the Soviet symbol of a hammer and sickle.
Here's a picture of a bit of discord in a place of unity!
That was Ukraine according to me. There's more, of course. But if you want to know about it, you'll just have to go there and see it yourself.
More to come about my unending adventure called, "Trying to get into Russia!"
So instead of writing about my lack of cultural exchange activities, I will present photodocumentation of a beautiful and exciting place!
I stayed with a guy named Robert Jackson. I met Robert in the Peace Corps in Bulgaria - we were from different groups, but lived in the same city. Robert teaches photography in Kiev and has a few development projects going on.
This is a picture of the Arsenal factory in Kiev - one of the last strongholds of the Bolshevik Revolution.Every weekend in Kiev, the town closes this main strip of the center, near Maidan, to traffic and opens it to pedestrians!
This picture is after a full day of people walking through town with their beers and vodkas listening to different street music, and a couple live concerts!I got to see the campaign for the mayoral elections of Kiev and compare them to our own election processes. There were 76 candidates but the incumbent mayor managed to maintain his seat.
All over the city, the candidates put up booths like these and hired people to hand out propaganda. One popular trick empolyed by these candidates was to find a "friend" with the same name as an opposing candidate and pay them to run in the race! Clever!Ukrainian fashion reminded me of a magical place called Bulgaria.
Hooray for Eastern Europe!We spent five hours at a junk market searching for random camera things and just taking in the experience.
It was interesting to see what kinds of things would sell in Ukraine. Robert took me to a village 70 kilometers outside of Kiev. We spent the day there hanging out with Robert's photography friend, Igor.
We hiked through the countryside to a resevoir and tried to get the perfect picture of the oncoming storm that almost took us over!Spent a day checking out the Lavra - a religious site with lots of caves and orthodox churches and such.
Also checked out the war museum, topped with a monument of a towering metal woman holding a shield bearing the Soviet symbol of a hammer and sickle.
Here's a picture of a bit of discord in a place of unity!
That was Ukraine according to me. There's more, of course. But if you want to know about it, you'll just have to go there and see it yourself.More to come about my unending adventure called, "Trying to get into Russia!"
Monday, May 19, 2008
Unity In A Place Of Discord!
My time in Moldova was extremely enlightening. Moldova is a complex mix of cultures, people, and politics, struggling for their own identity. Before World War Two, this region was called, “Romania”… or at least, the Moldavian province of Romania. But then the Soviets moved in and claimed it as their own. The Moldavian province of Romania became a ‘proud’ part of the Soviet Union! At least until communism proved itself by falling apart. In 1989 Moldova became its own independent state and denied Romania’s offer to return to its territory.
Since then, Moldova has been dealing with some kind of identity issue. A quick example of this is the language: Russian or Romanian? Most people speak both. But depending on who you talk to, and their background, social class, city, family name, etc, it may be inappropriate to speak one or the other. Romanian is the official language of Moldova, but it’s called Moldovan. It’s as much Romanian in Moldova as it is English in Louisiana. I’m not picking on Louisiana – I’m simply saying that because of an accent, and an identity issue, it’s called Moldovan.
An interesting identity phenomenon in Moldova is a small piece of land called Transnistria. Transnistria is an ‘independent’ country between Moldova and Ukraine. It has its own police, military, currency, and politicians. The only thing it doesn’t have is respect! Transnistria isn’t recognized as a country by any other nation on the planet. It’s officially part of Moldova, but the people there claim that they’re part of the USSR. Not positive, but I assume they have modern things such as newspapers to inform them that the USSR doesn’t exist anymore. But I’ve been wrong before.
In Belti, Moldova, the non-Soviet part of the former Soviet state, I carried on the Supercross08 flame like a communist stamping documents and denying requests!
I managed to find one Jennifer Nelson, a current Peace Corps Volunteer, who ironically, is from Vancouver, WA! Through her, I met up with a youth group called Council for Unity. It’s a mixture of high school kids, nearly 60 strong. Though, on the particular day of my visit, only a handful showed up. A handful of enthused and smiling students were plenty for a nice discussion!
The Council for Unity is a few years old and works on many different projects within the community. Its members are all volunteers who donate their time to participate in several project areas: mass media, sport, and culture. Under these three departments have come many successful projects, including: a big brother/big sister program with the local orphanage, summer sports camps, running a school newspaper, debate competitions between students and teachers, community cleanups, as well as anti-smoking and HIV/AIDS awareness campaigns! We had a chat about being a volunteer in the community and what motivated them to become active.
It reminded me of the meeting Tim and I had in Cairo with Resala when we talked about Islam with a bunch of community volunteers at an orphanage. But unlike that meeting, none of these kids cited religion as being a factor for motivating them to be active.
My first question was simple: Why did you decide to join the Council for Unity? The first gal I asked, said that she joined the council for social reasons. She explained that she has lots of fun volunteering and gets an opportunity to meet new friends who share a similar interest. It’s a refreshing perspective on youth entertainment and very far from the norm of video games and time spent in front of the TV. The second guy in the circle we sat in said that he joined the council because he wanted to be a part of the change happening in his community. Or more specifically, he wanted to help influence that change. I love being active and I love it even more when I meet people who share the same passion for being active in their community! The rest of the responses were more or less the same as these two, or slight variations of them. We then focused on the specifics of the change they wanted in society.
Like other countries in this region, Moldova has its share of corruption and mafia. This corruption/development-anchor exists at many levels here. Even for high school students. Paying for grades, as they told me, is a common practice among their peers. It’s something students do to be able to compete for a place in a university. Their grades are on a 1 to 10 scale, and they said that if you’re good in history and get a 10, but bad in chemistry and get a 7, then you can’t get into college to study history. So a simple solution is to pay the teacher to give you a better grade in chemistry. After all, when is a historian likely to use chemistry? An interesting argument, I mused, realizing that I said the same thing when I was in high school, only I reversed the chemistry and history in my perspective. I explained to them that in hindsight, it wasn’t history that the history teachers were trying to teach me. They were trying to teach me how to learn so that when I finally made it to a university or life, I’d be ready to study and learn whatever came my way.
We talked about ways to have a positive affect on this particular aspect of corruption and discussed the possibility of the Council for Unity uniting students to boycott this ‘paying for grades’ practice. They key, they decided, was to get people to be responsible, to take responsibility for their actions. And the best way to do that was to increase participation in the community.
If you sit on the sidelines or manipulate the system for your advantage, you don’t have a personal connection with the way things happen in your community. But if you’re active in your community and participate in local events and clubs, then your connection to how society functions is increased and responsibility seems to fall into place as an obligatory part of the equation.
The Council for Unity was created by youth leaders and is maintained by them as well. They’re fulfilling their duty with impressive efficiency, as their community participants are ever increasing and the change in their community becomes more evident with each project they complete. They’re responsible for the future of the community, and it’s a responsibility that they’ve proven they can handle.
Since then, Moldova has been dealing with some kind of identity issue. A quick example of this is the language: Russian or Romanian? Most people speak both. But depending on who you talk to, and their background, social class, city, family name, etc, it may be inappropriate to speak one or the other. Romanian is the official language of Moldova, but it’s called Moldovan. It’s as much Romanian in Moldova as it is English in Louisiana. I’m not picking on Louisiana – I’m simply saying that because of an accent, and an identity issue, it’s called Moldovan.
An interesting identity phenomenon in Moldova is a small piece of land called Transnistria. Transnistria is an ‘independent’ country between Moldova and Ukraine. It has its own police, military, currency, and politicians. The only thing it doesn’t have is respect! Transnistria isn’t recognized as a country by any other nation on the planet. It’s officially part of Moldova, but the people there claim that they’re part of the USSR. Not positive, but I assume they have modern things such as newspapers to inform them that the USSR doesn’t exist anymore. But I’ve been wrong before.
In Belti, Moldova, the non-Soviet part of the former Soviet state, I carried on the Supercross08 flame like a communist stamping documents and denying requests!
I managed to find one Jennifer Nelson, a current Peace Corps Volunteer, who ironically, is from Vancouver, WA! Through her, I met up with a youth group called Council for Unity. It’s a mixture of high school kids, nearly 60 strong. Though, on the particular day of my visit, only a handful showed up. A handful of enthused and smiling students were plenty for a nice discussion!
The Council for Unity is a few years old and works on many different projects within the community. Its members are all volunteers who donate their time to participate in several project areas: mass media, sport, and culture. Under these three departments have come many successful projects, including: a big brother/big sister program with the local orphanage, summer sports camps, running a school newspaper, debate competitions between students and teachers, community cleanups, as well as anti-smoking and HIV/AIDS awareness campaigns! We had a chat about being a volunteer in the community and what motivated them to become active.
It reminded me of the meeting Tim and I had in Cairo with Resala when we talked about Islam with a bunch of community volunteers at an orphanage. But unlike that meeting, none of these kids cited religion as being a factor for motivating them to be active.My first question was simple: Why did you decide to join the Council for Unity? The first gal I asked, said that she joined the council for social reasons. She explained that she has lots of fun volunteering and gets an opportunity to meet new friends who share a similar interest. It’s a refreshing perspective on youth entertainment and very far from the norm of video games and time spent in front of the TV. The second guy in the circle we sat in said that he joined the council because he wanted to be a part of the change happening in his community. Or more specifically, he wanted to help influence that change. I love being active and I love it even more when I meet people who share the same passion for being active in their community! The rest of the responses were more or less the same as these two, or slight variations of them. We then focused on the specifics of the change they wanted in society.
Like other countries in this region, Moldova has its share of corruption and mafia. This corruption/development-anchor exists at many levels here. Even for high school students. Paying for grades, as they told me, is a common practice among their peers. It’s something students do to be able to compete for a place in a university. Their grades are on a 1 to 10 scale, and they said that if you’re good in history and get a 10, but bad in chemistry and get a 7, then you can’t get into college to study history. So a simple solution is to pay the teacher to give you a better grade in chemistry. After all, when is a historian likely to use chemistry? An interesting argument, I mused, realizing that I said the same thing when I was in high school, only I reversed the chemistry and history in my perspective. I explained to them that in hindsight, it wasn’t history that the history teachers were trying to teach me. They were trying to teach me how to learn so that when I finally made it to a university or life, I’d be ready to study and learn whatever came my way.
We talked about ways to have a positive affect on this particular aspect of corruption and discussed the possibility of the Council for Unity uniting students to boycott this ‘paying for grades’ practice. They key, they decided, was to get people to be responsible, to take responsibility for their actions. And the best way to do that was to increase participation in the community.
If you sit on the sidelines or manipulate the system for your advantage, you don’t have a personal connection with the way things happen in your community. But if you’re active in your community and participate in local events and clubs, then your connection to how society functions is increased and responsibility seems to fall into place as an obligatory part of the equation.
The Council for Unity was created by youth leaders and is maintained by them as well. They’re fulfilling their duty with impressive efficiency, as their community participants are ever increasing and the change in their community becomes more evident with each project they complete. They’re responsible for the future of the community, and it’s a responsibility that they’ve proven they can handle.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Back in the USSR!
After four hours of fun train ride, I ended up at the wrong station in a town called Iasi (pronounced: yash). I had to walk to the next one and when I found it, it was also the wrong one. I got yelled at for walking over a red carpet in the station that had been rolled out, but apparently not for me. After giving my best lost-looks, I finally found where I needed to be to cross the border into Moldova.
I flirted my way through the Romanian customs line and got onto a small slow train that shuttles people across the border. On the train, there were a bunch of old babas smuggling not cigarettes, but colorful bathroom towels and baby toys into Moldova. I found it very funny, and later saw a large collection of these towels for sale at a local market. The Moldova border guard didn't know what to do with my passport. She kept holding it up to the light to see if it was real. She finally let me through, but customs didn't know what to do with me either. The guy sat me down and had me fill out some documents and told me to list all the currency and financial assets I had. I listed some Euro that I now keep as backup. He looked at the form, looked at me, and said, "Present".
I'm terrified of being asked for bribes, and my normal paranoia about spending money influenced me to hear, "Present?" I was slightly panicked, as there was no one else around, and if some customs guard wanted to take advantage of me, what rights did I have?
I looked at him like, 'Are you kidding me?' and waited for his response. It happened as "Present!" with the stress on the first syllable, as in 'show me'! haha!
It was raining and I was in a tiny, tiny border town, but I managed to find an ATM for some local currency. I conquered the bus system (stood around till someone offered to help me) and then took a bus to Balti. At the final stop the bus driver turned to me and said the name of the town. I got off and got my stuff out of the back, proud that I had finally made it here! I looked up at the driver who looked at me as if to say - 'Now what are you gonna do, kid?' so I smiled and showed him the address of my next host.
There were some university students standing near and offered to help with their English skills. I told them where I wanted to go and the driver motioned for me to get back in his little mini-bus. The two students came along and translated a conversation. The driver was hugely excited to be driving around an American! I don't think he'd ever met one before. He said something and I asked for a translation. The university student said, "He wants to know if you have any chewing gum." I felt like I was back in WW2 or something! It was hilarious!
Welcome to Moldova!
I flirted my way through the Romanian customs line and got onto a small slow train that shuttles people across the border. On the train, there were a bunch of old babas smuggling not cigarettes, but colorful bathroom towels and baby toys into Moldova. I found it very funny, and later saw a large collection of these towels for sale at a local market. The Moldova border guard didn't know what to do with my passport. She kept holding it up to the light to see if it was real. She finally let me through, but customs didn't know what to do with me either. The guy sat me down and had me fill out some documents and told me to list all the currency and financial assets I had. I listed some Euro that I now keep as backup. He looked at the form, looked at me, and said, "Present".
I'm terrified of being asked for bribes, and my normal paranoia about spending money influenced me to hear, "Present?" I was slightly panicked, as there was no one else around, and if some customs guard wanted to take advantage of me, what rights did I have?
I looked at him like, 'Are you kidding me?' and waited for his response. It happened as "Present!" with the stress on the first syllable, as in 'show me'! haha!
It was raining and I was in a tiny, tiny border town, but I managed to find an ATM for some local currency. I conquered the bus system (stood around till someone offered to help me) and then took a bus to Balti. At the final stop the bus driver turned to me and said the name of the town. I got off and got my stuff out of the back, proud that I had finally made it here! I looked up at the driver who looked at me as if to say - 'Now what are you gonna do, kid?' so I smiled and showed him the address of my next host.
There were some university students standing near and offered to help with their English skills. I told them where I wanted to go and the driver motioned for me to get back in his little mini-bus. The two students came along and translated a conversation. The driver was hugely excited to be driving around an American! I don't think he'd ever met one before. He said something and I asked for a translation. The university student said, "He wants to know if you have any chewing gum." I felt like I was back in WW2 or something! It was hilarious!
Welcome to Moldova!
Monday, May 5, 2008
On the Road Again!
Leaving Bulgaria was a hard thing for me to do. I've become quite attached to the lifestyle and of course, to the people with whom I've bonded. Reflecting on my departure I found a feeling almost identical to the one I have when I leave the states. I'm leaving my comfort zone. No longer secure. No longer absolutely safe. No longer in the company of my wonderful friends. Good news is, in most cases, friends are easy to come by when you're on the road!
I arrived in Bucharest, Romania to a rainy Monday morning. It was cold, I was hungry, I was tired, and my bank card wouldn't work in any of the four ATMs I tried. It's not the best combination of circumstances to be in. I went into a bank thinking that perhaps they could find a solution for me, being that banking is their business and all. "Nothing's wrong with our machine! Go try another ATM!", was the defensive response I got to my plea for help. "Gee wiz! Another ATM? Why, I've only thought of that four times already. Thanks for the advice, Mr. Banker! I'll be on my way now!" On my way to find someone else, that is!
I found a police officer that spoke great English and I asked him for some help. I decided that getting to my host was the best option. From there I could email my bank and complain properly. But I had to get there, and I had no money. I showed the cop the address I had to get to and asked if it was walkable.
"Oh no!", he said, "You'll need to take the subway or a bus."
"But I don't have any money." I explained.
"Well, you'll have to pay for the subway. But... You don't always have to pay for the bus." I laughed cause I knew where this was going. He continued, "You only need a ticket if the ticket control people come by and check to see if you have a ticket."
"What if they 'catch me' with out a ticket?", I inquired. He shrugged as if to say that I was on my own at that point. Great.
Basically, the lessons of the morning were: banks never make mistakes, except when they do, and although police men are employed to enforce the law, they don't always know it.
Luckily, I'm more prepared than a boyscout. I had some Euro on me, and used it to buy some local currency. Enough to get me some food and a bus ticket!
I wandered the city for several hours trying to figure out the buses, the street signs, and how to avoid the damned stray dogs that kept trying to bite me. After some rough sketches, an equation or two, and some great mime, I was able to conquer the bus system. I couldn't find the street sign I needed to save my life. Finally, about the 40th person I asked was nice old man who told me, "It's over there." Things were coming together, however, I still could not pass a stray dog that wouldn't bark at me, though there were a few that didn't try to bite me!
It's a good thing to travel. Your eyes are opened to so many wondrous places, people, cultures, and landscapes! Not only do you get constant adventure and excitement, but you really get a sense of deep appreciation for the comforts of life back home. Try to learn that in your fancy pants colleges!
I found myself in Focsani (pronounced: fok-shan), Romania (pronounced: romania) staying at the home of a couple Peace Corps Volunteers. They were good guys and I enjoyed hearing their PC experiences. They let me tag along to the birthday partry of one of their students. She was turning 19, so we bought her an appropriate gift: two bottles of wine and some Simpsons candy.
I kind of expected the night to go over like a typical Bulgarian party - or similarly anyway, being that they're neighbors and all. But just like the languages, the parties are completely different! Oana's mom cooked up a huge feed for all to enjoy. There were all kinds of foods that I've never tried before. Ok, so I've had eggplant before, but eggplant here is translated to 'blue tomato' and I've never had it in the form that I had it here! Mmmm! =) We ate and drank as the night progressed and then the music began!
We all headed outside to where they were barbequing up some chicken and sausages. Next to the cement barbeque was a picnic table filled with musical friends. They played guitars, bongos, a harmonica, moracas, and one of those tiny simble-shaker deals! The one guy sang all night long - different traditional folk songs, while everyone danced and laughed! It was a rockin' good time!
After Oana blew out her birthday candles, her boyfriend grabbed her with the help of 3 other big guys. They proceeded to toss her into the air, 19 times, while everyone else cheered! Haha! She was a bit shaken up, but this is tradition, dammit!
I spent most of the night talking with her classmates/friends who were content to ask me all kinds of questions regarding the differences between Romania, Bulgaria, and the U.S. It was a similar conversation to ones I'd had in Bulgaria, but these kids seemed to have more optimism and faith in their country to develop properly. Granted, they'd be the first to admit there's corruption and other problems, but I was impressed that they were able to overlook those hurdles and expect more from their country!
It was a far better time than I had expected to have in Romania as I'm traveling much too quickly to really see anything at the moment. The party lasted till morning and I finally got to bed at 4 AM. Just in time to wake up at 7:30 AM in order to catch my 8:30 train to Moldova!
I arrived in Bucharest, Romania to a rainy Monday morning. It was cold, I was hungry, I was tired, and my bank card wouldn't work in any of the four ATMs I tried. It's not the best combination of circumstances to be in. I went into a bank thinking that perhaps they could find a solution for me, being that banking is their business and all. "Nothing's wrong with our machine! Go try another ATM!", was the defensive response I got to my plea for help. "Gee wiz! Another ATM? Why, I've only thought of that four times already. Thanks for the advice, Mr. Banker! I'll be on my way now!" On my way to find someone else, that is!
I found a police officer that spoke great English and I asked him for some help. I decided that getting to my host was the best option. From there I could email my bank and complain properly. But I had to get there, and I had no money. I showed the cop the address I had to get to and asked if it was walkable.
"Oh no!", he said, "You'll need to take the subway or a bus."
"But I don't have any money." I explained.
"Well, you'll have to pay for the subway. But... You don't always have to pay for the bus." I laughed cause I knew where this was going. He continued, "You only need a ticket if the ticket control people come by and check to see if you have a ticket."
"What if they 'catch me' with out a ticket?", I inquired. He shrugged as if to say that I was on my own at that point. Great.
Basically, the lessons of the morning were: banks never make mistakes, except when they do, and although police men are employed to enforce the law, they don't always know it.
Luckily, I'm more prepared than a boyscout. I had some Euro on me, and used it to buy some local currency. Enough to get me some food and a bus ticket!
I wandered the city for several hours trying to figure out the buses, the street signs, and how to avoid the damned stray dogs that kept trying to bite me. After some rough sketches, an equation or two, and some great mime, I was able to conquer the bus system. I couldn't find the street sign I needed to save my life. Finally, about the 40th person I asked was nice old man who told me, "It's over there." Things were coming together, however, I still could not pass a stray dog that wouldn't bark at me, though there were a few that didn't try to bite me!
It's a good thing to travel. Your eyes are opened to so many wondrous places, people, cultures, and landscapes! Not only do you get constant adventure and excitement, but you really get a sense of deep appreciation for the comforts of life back home. Try to learn that in your fancy pants colleges!
I found myself in Focsani (pronounced: fok-shan), Romania (pronounced: romania) staying at the home of a couple Peace Corps Volunteers. They were good guys and I enjoyed hearing their PC experiences. They let me tag along to the birthday partry of one of their students. She was turning 19, so we bought her an appropriate gift: two bottles of wine and some Simpsons candy.
I kind of expected the night to go over like a typical Bulgarian party - or similarly anyway, being that they're neighbors and all. But just like the languages, the parties are completely different! Oana's mom cooked up a huge feed for all to enjoy. There were all kinds of foods that I've never tried before. Ok, so I've had eggplant before, but eggplant here is translated to 'blue tomato' and I've never had it in the form that I had it here! Mmmm! =) We ate and drank as the night progressed and then the music began!
We all headed outside to where they were barbequing up some chicken and sausages. Next to the cement barbeque was a picnic table filled with musical friends. They played guitars, bongos, a harmonica, moracas, and one of those tiny simble-shaker deals! The one guy sang all night long - different traditional folk songs, while everyone danced and laughed! It was a rockin' good time!
After Oana blew out her birthday candles, her boyfriend grabbed her with the help of 3 other big guys. They proceeded to toss her into the air, 19 times, while everyone else cheered! Haha! She was a bit shaken up, but this is tradition, dammit!I spent most of the night talking with her classmates/friends who were content to ask me all kinds of questions regarding the differences between Romania, Bulgaria, and the U.S. It was a similar conversation to ones I'd had in Bulgaria, but these kids seemed to have more optimism and faith in their country to develop properly. Granted, they'd be the first to admit there's corruption and other problems, but I was impressed that they were able to overlook those hurdles and expect more from their country!
It was a far better time than I had expected to have in Romania as I'm traveling much too quickly to really see anything at the moment. The party lasted till morning and I finally got to bed at 4 AM. Just in time to wake up at 7:30 AM in order to catch my 8:30 train to Moldova!
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