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This town was right on the border of Transnistria – the rouge sort-of-state that pretends that it is still 1981, complete with Soviet Uniforms and dodgy and various border crossing experiences (as if crossing the Moldovan border is easy). It was very interesting to see the town on the other side – some sort of heavy industry town – right on a river. I wonder what goes on there? As we pulled into a gas station, we saw a man with a machine gun. Our driver got out, then soon got back in again, discovering that his fuel coupon wasn't valid there? I don't know, but the guy with the machine gun said something, and our guide and Dorina looked straight ahead and we drove off rather rapidly. Perhaps some tension on the Moldovan-Transnistrian border? A bouncy ride home with the associated near-death experiences (the roads drop off on the edges on some parts, and cars are not wanting to slow down, so they drift towards the center, and well, bad stuff often happens). We made it back to Chisinau safely, somehow. It was quite an experience, seeing yet another part of Moldova . We saw many old decrepit trucks, miles of nothing, and another Moldovan city. We saw how strong religion is in the lives of, well, some Moldovans. And we drank some of the water. Saturday. Today we shopped for wedding apparel. Because, since my family had not been able to come to the original wedding, and since it was in a registry office, my family and Dorina's wanted us to get married in a church. Well, fair enough. Mothers like that sort of stuff, you see. I got a new suit, about $100 in all, including the shoes and shirt and stuff. It was cream colored, certainly nothing I'd ever consider buying myself, but in the end I really liked it. Later we actually went to the village. This was something I was really not looking forward to. Indeed, I had sworn that I wouldn't stay more than one night, and even that one night was agreed to under some duress. Some of the problem was of course because my family had never stayed the night in the village, so not understanding my reasons, were all eager for me to stay as long as them. But no, I was not having any of that, and so had arranged a way to get out as soon as possible. So, we went back to the village. We learned soon after arriving that a bar had opening up in the village. Cool! We like bars very much, so we went off down the road to find it. It was a house, a Moldovan village house, turned into a small shop, with a couple of tables inside and one outside. And it sold beer, and hence, it was a bar. It was one of the happiest moments in the village. A bar! Some sense of civilization.
During our time here, some men came along, and they turned out to be Dorina's uncles. I'd never met any of her other relatives, so this was novel. They seemed like good guys, but smelt a bit funny. Oh well. The rest of the night was spent drinking, as Dorina's mum and relatives were preparing food and such for tomorrows wedding feast. We had brought a small containing thingy with a plunger thing at the bottom, which if you filled it with water and then pushed the plunger at the bottom, dripped water. It was like a tap! It's amazing how much we missed running water, of some description. At some point I wandered out into the kitchen and was talking with Dorina's aunt in Russian. The conversation went well, in that I could understand stuff and she could understand me, but I did ask if they had eaten the kittens that were here the previous week, but not now, and so she kept asking me if I was tired yet, because seeing as how it was night, I should go to bed (i.e., and leave her alone!) Dorina and I went to sleep in a kind of hallway, because that was the only available space for us. In the morning, there was a hive of activity, but no one who knew only English had any idea what was happening. No one told us. Not at all. A lady arrived and arranged Dorina's hair, but the rest of us sat around not knowing what to do. We didn't even get breakfast! Needless to say, there were no hot showers. I don't even think any of us saw a mirror that whole morning.
Things continued like this right up until the guests arrived. The God parents arrived, and the God mother was wearing some kind of fairy dress and sash, and at first I had no idea who she was. I thought perhaps she was Miss Moldova or something, although why she was here on our wedding day I had no idea. John and Natasha arrived, and were suitably impressed at my bad mood.
We still had no idea what was happening right up until we started walking to the church! Jeez. So we get to the church, with relatives in tow, which was just down the road. In we go, and it's an elaborate Orthodox church, with all the trimmings inside. Very flash, and quite cool really. I was told that I was Orthodox today, so fair enough. It's not like anyone could ask me about my beliefs anyway, seeing as how no one spoke English. The ceremony commenced, and it was a very elaborate. The God parents stood with us, so there was no best man or any of those bridesmaids people. We were given candles, there was much singing, at one point they put a crown on me, and we were led around some alter. Wow. All in all, it was actually very cool, and very interesting. It was very hot still, and some lady put a shirt around the priests neck, presumably to soak up sweat (he was wearing full robes, so must have been hot). The shirt had presumably been recently purchased, because it still had a price tag on it. In the middle of an elaborate ceremony with a priest in full robes, he had a shirt around his neck with a price tag on it. I didn't know I had to kiss the priests hand or ring, or whatever it was, and at the end of the ceremony, he offered his hand, so I shook it! That was apparently another time I was supposed to kiss it. Oh well. We do things differently the American Orthodox Church, you see! Straight after the ceremony, pretty much as we left the church, it started pissing down with rain. Not just a little – this was rain of the century type stuff. Was this God showing his displeasure for deceiving Him? We ran up the hill, which had by now turned to mud, and my family disappeared somewhere. I got changed and fetched an umbrella, and set out to look for them, thinking perhaps they went to the bar. Where else would they go? But no, they were safe in some relatives house, sitting around not knowing what to do as everyone was speaking strange languages.
When everyone was together again, we had a wedding feast. It had all the normal aspects of a Moldovan wedding feast, but quite condensed, and it was all over in about an hour. It was like it was just for show, but at the same time, meaningful. Perhaps the meaningfulness can come even from a condensed feast. Fair enough, it was done. We had village wine, and it was really good! It's like there is no wine in Moldova that can be bad. It was not just good, it was superb wine! From plastic Coke bottles, none the less. Lots of speeches were given during the feast, all to the nature of ‘lots of children, house made of stone'. Thanks very much. It was all very nice, and very cool, only not quite as exciting as it could have been, given that Dorina and I had already been married for two years! As promised, I escaped after the feasting was done, by hitching a ride with the God parents back to Chisinau. Lots more of Dorina's relatives had started showing up, and it was a shame I didn't get to talk with all of them, but then again, no one bothered to invite them over before, so perhaps they didn't care for us to meet them? With all the language difficulties and preparations going on, probably it wasn't a suitable time, anyway. Mum wanted to come back to, but it seemed there was no available ride, so they had to stay another night. In fact, if they called a taxi, and offered to pay enough, there's no doubt that they would have been able to come back to Chisinau, but Dorina was very effective in putting them off, saying that there was no such transport available. Perhaps relatives paying $100 or so for a taxi is just a little too disconcerting for poor Moldovan villagers or something. Crazy place. So, I ran away, selfish as I am, and proud enough of my feat. The God parents were not particularly pleased the village either. With all the rain, people had to walk in mud to reach the house, and then there was an elaborate procedure with shoes and feat required before you could go inside, and well, it was just plain messy. I got back to Chisinau, had a nice shower, wandered down to McDonalds for dinner, went to the internet café, and then wandering back to the apartment and watched TV for the evening. Very relaxing. The rain had stopped by then, and the weather was finally cooler. The next day was our last in Moldova . We spent it wandering around, buying another suitcase in order to take our wedding gifts back with us (the relatives were very generous with their gift giving, quite touching considering there lack of wealth), and preparing to leave. I met Radu, who is a young chap, and thanked him again for his business of getting invitations. To him, it's just a job, but for foreigners who have no other way of getting invitations, it's about the only way that one can practically visit Moldova . Michelle, the Australian, had to wait for three months to get an invitation for Moldova . If she'd known about Radu's service, they would have gotten an invitation much sooner and done their Moldovan trip earlier.
We had wanted to visit Nikoli and family again, but he was busy and there wasn't much time left anyway. We went to Valentine's parents apartment to collect some things we had forgotten previously, and say goodbye. From there we went to Valentine's apartment, where the plan was to eat peroskey, which my sister wanted. But through a strange turn of events, this was the first time where I knew what was going on, but mum and Donna did not. Throughout the whole trip, with so many of us who knew only English, and so many other friends and people to deal with, and with the Moldovan habit of wanting to please everyone and not offend them, even if it means changing plans half way through something, there was always one of us who never knew what was happening or where we were going, and it was usually me. So this was a strange night. Mum and Donna had wanted to go to a restaurant for the last night in Moldova, but it ended up being quite late, and in the end, with still more confusion and no one really knowing what was happening, mum and Donna left, and I decided to go after them. We ended up catching public transport all by ourselves (yay!) and making it back to town, where it was too late to do anything except go back to the apartments and pack. We were accosted by a drunken man on the way back, who saw were foreigners and wanted us to buy him beer. He was very persistent until I told him to piss off in English. Dorina didn't return for a while, still being at Valentines, and we still hadn't made arrangements to return the key to the landlady. Luckily, Dorina eventually returned, called the landlady, spoke to her for long time to put her mind at ease and assure her we were good people and wouldn't run off with the key or anything, and so it wasn't necessary to see her that night like she wanted, in order to trade some ID's around and retrieve my drivers license. In the end, we agreed Valentine would give her the key the next day, and get my license back. Seeing as how I didn't need it, I didn't care what happened to it. In the morning, Valentine happily collected us at 4am or some crazy time, and drove us to mum's apartment. Here we encounted a traffic jam at that time of the morning – people queuing to set up for the main downtown market. It was crazy. Those people are really quite hard working. I wonder if they are there the entire day in the market? We got to mum's apartment, and the driveway was blocked by a policeman, who was asleep in his car. Only in Moldova ! All was OK, we got out, got to the airport, and certain freedom! We were quite happy to leave Moldova at that time. A little bit sad, but considering the various problems we had, which were by no means huge, and the stress of the wedding and such, it was good to leave. There were actually no problems at all in leaving the airport. Well, there seldom are, really. No one checked out police registrations this time – or else they did but left the papers in our passports. We got through all the checking in and immigration in no time, and waited for the plane to Amsterdam . This was the first time I was really pleased to leave Moldova . And I wasn't super happy – just mildly pleased that the problems were behind us, that I didn't have to worry about the welfare of my family or Dorina, and she didn't have to worry about us either, and just the whole thing. This was the first time I could understand a little of what the Moldovans were saying, and I saw that there really are a lot of unhappy people there, and some which really are a bit rude or prone to nasty behavior. So, it was a bit eye-opening in that regard. People in Moldova seem to actually like suffering, and when they can make a happy-go-lucky tourist suffer a bit too, it brings them joy. Undoubtedly their history has been harsh, but for things to improve more in Moldova , people need to get rid of this attitude. Well, soon they will all be too busy working to bother with bad attitudes I suppose! And in all fairness, all things are relative, and this was the first time I had my family traveling with me, and both Dorina and I were a bit worried about them, plus I was wanting to spend time with them, and make everyone happy too. Undoubtedly my own attitude and mood affected how I saw things on this trip. So off we flew, away from Moldova , and to Amsterdam – western Europe – where things just ‘work', and the people don't mind if you laugh while sitting next to them. Amsterdam was very impressive. I'd not spent much time in western Europe before – my longest time being when a plane was missed and I had to stay overnight in Paris, in a hotel close to the airport. I was very looking forward to it. We rented a car at the airport, and drove south towards Belgium . The roads were smooth, it was uncanny. It was almost boring. We didn't quite know what to make of it! One night in Belgium we spent, I was very tired. It wasn't so hot there – for the first time in almost two weeks I slept well. From Belgium with it's friendly people and bicycles to Paris – and near death with my mum's driving (I wished I had my drivers license with me after all!). Paris – very artistic, very beautiful. The French – a bit strange, but friendly enough, very different culture, and I could even understand some of what they said. We saw the usual tourist destinations, and after three nights, off to Frankfurt . Several of my friends lived there, so I was very happy to see them again. Everyone wondered why we would go to Frankfurt – well, for us, we'd never been in Germany before, so one city was as good and as new to us as another, and most importantly – I wanted to see my friends! Good beer, good food, mum and Donna rested mostly – they were tired from the stress of Moldova and site seeing in Paris too. Frankfurt was very Americanized – it's almost difficult to tell the difference sometimes. Then off to Amsterdam , and to see another friend. Also, our planes departed from there. I was a bit sick by then, but lots of delicious Heineken, which is so much better from a big glass, soon fixed that. We saw some usual tourist stuff in Amsterdam , and enjoyed it very much. Overall, it was our favorite city – a good all-rounder. Then after three nights, back to the US , and Donna back to New Zealand . Mum and Kenny stayed one night in Omaha , then back on the plane to Australia the next day. The holiday was over. And quite a holiday it was, for all of us. (Page 4/4)
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