COMING into the office on a rainy summer morning, I was a bit confused when people told me there was a "situatie de urgentie," near us. From only being 3 months at site, and ungifted in the acquiring of new languages, I somehow got the report that: over the hill, 1km away, in our comuna the river had flooded and people were evacuating their houses and there were cops dropping bags of sand to stop the water.
Me, being a PC volunteer partly for the quest for adventure, I wanted to get some pictures of this crazy event that was unfolding so close by.
After putting in a few good hours chatting with the ladies at the office, being fed a couple snacks and candies, I hoped onto my village transportation, and pedaled that supposedly 1km to see this "urgent situation."
Well...I spent 40 minutes pedaling and I didn't ever find any disaster, but I did get caught in the ridiculous down pouring rain and had to stop at 4 magazines on my way home, of which I was thoroughly drenched to my under chilotes at the first magazine.
Later, I did find out, that I'd misunderstood and that the flood was never 1km away, and that the areas that were affected were further than I would want to reach with my bike.
When the email came out for volunteers to help with flood relief, I saw my photo opportunity arise again. Well, besides that, back in 2003 I'd flown to
Nevermind that people were supposedly camping in tents, there may not have been a lot of aid food, and hopefully they had at least some hygienic material and clean water, I wanted to go!
I contacted the PCVL in charge, Eric, right away, and then settled back to what us PC volunteers do...to wait. What felt seriously like a month later, which was in actuality only a week, Eric called me back and said he didn't have much planned, but another PCVRO volunteer and I would be the first ones to go on this trip. We were to be the guinea pigs to check out the situation, or canaries.
Dan and I finally got in contact 3 days before he was planning on leaving, and we got a general plan of where and when we were going. "What" was ambiguous and we both knew to expect that.
There is that saying: the one where you make a whole bunch of random plans over a stretch of time, and then all those plans all happen to want to take place within the same week.
Yuckily, Oana's site visit, my birthday, and this trip all decided to be on the same week. After long emails and contemplation, I finally was able to get some two of the events to work out, and I chose to ditch the birthday plans. Two volunteers on the West side, who live in cities were going to come join me and Nils and Emily for a tour on our side of the country, and dinner, and a ride through our village on a horse drawn cart. I asked our cleaning lady if she would do it, and she had agreed. Our cleaning lady is de bomb! and is a cherished friend now. In my new plan, Dan would leave on Monday, and I'd meet up with him on Wednesday, after my site visit Tuesday. Oana was going to do Emily's site visit Wednesday morning, and she'd offered to take me up north 3 hours with her chauffeur. Yup! Our program managers get chauffeurs, because they're super important people. =D Actually I asked, and Oana said it's because PC vehicles have diplomatic immunity and so specific people have to be licensed to drive them. Instead of a lonely and scary ride from my point A to B. I had great company and a chauffeur for 3/4 of my trip (and it was free!).
We made a name to introduce ourselves as: Sin-Sin-Oct-tea-Oa-Nah ...not as funny now, but in the car it was hilarious. It stemed from the fact that Octavian and Cynthia were long names (longer than Oana) and we had shorter nicknames people called us. Anyway...
At that station from Bacau to Piatra Neamt, I got to the station 2 MINUTES before the train departed! Oana talked really really fast to the ticket lady and we ran across 5 train lanes! where I jumped onto the train which did not have doors. Yet still I didn't arrive to Doljesti until Thursday afternoon because traveling took a lot longer than I'd expected.
In Piatra Neamt the Red Cross allowed me to sleep over at their organization Wednesday night, where I spent the evening on the internet chatting a bit with friends and family, reading emails, and then occupy myself with learning how to do this "fantasy football thing." I'm way loosing right now, and no idea what I'm doing, maybe 5% knowing.
As soon as I hopped off the maxi taxi at Doljesti, I stepped into the Primarie and asked for the Mayor. Dan had SMSed that the Mayor knew to expect me and would know what to do with me.
He wasn't there, so a lady at the office dropped me off at the Catholic sisters' home. Dan was staying with the Catholic priests' at this point. He'd spent a fun first night on a couch in the Primarie, but was relocated on day two to a room at the priests.
Dan and I met in between the sisters' and priests' dormitories and for the rest of the day he introduced me to people he kinda knew (Dan and I did not hug or touch during our whole stay, and at the end we did give each other a good'ol American hug. Why? All the priests and nuns!) Most of that first day we waited around for an opportunity too help, Dan had heard a rumor that we could help hand out Aide food to people...but it never happened. Besides the waiting, Dan and I walked from one end of a village to the other, and we did talk to a few locals, some begged for money when we tried to be nice, but I would have none of that. We're foreign, ergo we have money to give them. Bah! We are PCVs, we shed blood, we give sweat! But we do not give you money. I thought this, didn't say it out loud.
The village we were in was 1 of 4 villages that comprised this majority Catholic community.
The reason Dan and I walked from one end of the village to the other end was actually for a purpose: to find these Red Cross Tents we were told about. Dan heard from Eric, our PCVL, and I'd heard about it from the Red Cross volunteers I'd met in
Dan and I thought we were going to sleep near or in these tents for the duration of our stay. We'd brought our own sleeping bags! and tents! flashlights, etc...!
What ended up happening though was that for the duration of our stay, Dan and I got our own rooms (WARNING: there were bedbugs at the Sisters' dormitory!! Cynthia got eaten all over! )
and we ate with the priests for every meal, and we even got GIANT bowls of ice cream while I was there! The head priest kept pressuring me "you're sure...? Are you sure? You know you want some...," until I most definitely gave in! I love ice cream! I can't hold out more than 3 minutes. 5 flavors both nights, where mocha with walnuts was my fav. I think I'm skinnier now than from when I started...and I have no idea how that is so. We ate fried crap again too. "crap = carp (it's pronounced crap, really).
I learned something on this trip, something Dan knew from his experience, but failed to warn me is: to always bring clothes for a formal occasion. He had his collared shirt, but all I had were camping/hard living clothes. We went to church every evening, and while I was told it was okay, I still felt self conscious about how inappropriately I was dressed.
The next day, I felt was more productive due to: I met the Mayor for the first time, Dan and I got an interview with a newspaper (refer to link on the toolbar on the left), and Dan and I got to help deliver aide food to the people on the streets with the church.
It was a fun day, and I got a good amount of pictures to show for it. The locals were all too happy to pose for pictures. The priest actually yelled at the old lady to drop her aide food and pose with her husband, and he waddled over and grabbed her all close and cute.
Here's what I and the other volunteers drank while handing out aide food: Cappy. It's aide drinks, aka: Romanian gatorade. (Triathlon joke, if you don't get it, don't try).
And here is a picture I don't look good in, but a lady who's house was out of the range of the flood water, gave me a rose in thanks for being there. Dan is male, so while he got all the credit and macho grunts, I got the flower =p
Then it was Saturday morning, and Dan and I made our goodbyes. Him, because he started teaching English to high schoolers Monday, and me, because I'd been gone from my site for almost a week, and I wanted to be around for when the primary schools started. On the last moments of our stay, the Mayor had made us promise to say goodbye to him. He said he would cry if we left without seeing him first, so of course we met up with him! He apparently has been Mayor for 12 years, he has a great sense of humor, calls Dan and I beautiful people, and he has 2 teeth. I didn't ask him about it, even though the head priest kept prompting me to do so. We met up with him at the building supply deposit, in the rain, while he was distributing building supplies to the people constructing their homes before Winter arrives.
In the rain, he announced to a crowd of wet people, waiting for supplies, that we were volunteers who had come to help them and that they were lucky that we were there and that we cared. In his enthusiasm, he got a few facts wrong about us, but the people were riled by the Mayor's speech and someone asked to use my camera to take pictures for us. Dan got the Mayor's number so that he could come back on his weekends to help, and that was that.
p.s. Carute (caruta plural) here are different. Their horses have a random tube handle on their cart, and their carts are narrower too.
