FALL-DOVA

Hey all! I haven't forgotten about this blog...yet. I hope everything is going well with you. Hopefully you had a fun Halloween and are looking forward to Thanksgiving. I am, along with you all, still believing the Phils can pull out some magic.

Anyway, things here are going very well. Below, I wrote a little something about why this Moldova place is so beautiful. If you're interested, take a look. If you'd prefer the easy route, I also have attached a video of October's wine-making that (hopefully) expresses that beauty visually. Or, if you'd like, you are welcome (and encouraged) to check out both. So, enjoy, be well, and as always: NOROC!

WHY IS MOLDOVA FRUMOS?

Here in Moldova people often use the adjective “Frumos.” The Romanian word translates most closely to our word, “beautiful.” Yet, it is used to describe a wider array of objects and actions than we commonly associate with beauty – and it is used with much greater frequency. Flowers, automobiles, photographs are often described as frumos, while, improper behavior or improper dress are decidedly not frumos.
As an American in Moldova, the people here often ask me what I like (and what I do not like) about their country. The complexity of this question, and my thought process when answering it is too involved for me to fully discuss at the moment. Right now however, I want to describe a piece of the answer I give, and, why I am fully candid and honest when I give it.
The other day I was preparing to leave my training village, Vasieni - where I had stayed for the past few weeks for a final round of language and technical classes. Before returning to my permanent village, Lozova, I sat at my host family’s kitchen table. I was all packed and ready to go, but was attempting to catch my breath after yet another suffocatingly sufficient Moldovan meal. (In case I haven’t discussed it on this blog – Moldovan hospitality is unceasingly, incessantly, incorrigibly generous). Sitting at the table, my host parents, Maria and Gheorghe, asked me some of the same questions I have been asked dozens of times here: "What do you like about our village?" "What don’t you like?" When giving my answer, one of the first things I say, invariably, is this: “Your country is beautiful.” Despite my dusty Romanian accent and vocabulary bounded by only a few months of study, I usually try to speak with more specifity. But, it is often impossible to avoid using the word Frumos.
When this word staggered out of my mouth, my host parents’ expressions were painfully familiar. Their faces shifted from intense interest to incredulity. The next few moments of conversation carried the weight of their disbelief. Why? It sometimes seems as though when I describe this place as frumos, people do not believe I am honest. They think I am kind for attempting to flatter them, but many presume that I have seen and experienced greater beauty in America.
Riding the bus later that day to Chisinau, I happened to meet four other colleagues doing the same. One volunteer, Vincent, told me about a similar conversation he had the night before with his host father, Radu. After several glasses of wine, Radu, normally a very reserved person, thanked Vincent. He said that it was unbelievably nice of Vincent to call Moldova frumos. Radu thanked Vincent for being so positive about this place. Suddenly though, Radu pivoted: he said, “Vincent, I have read about America, I have seen pictures – America is much more beautiful than Moldova.” To which Vincent (who is one of the most sincere people I know) did his best to express his genuine love for the surroundings Moldova provides.
Was Radu correct? Is there more natural beauty in America? Are we, Peace Corps Volunteers, honest with ourselves and the people around us when we say this place is frumos? I turned these questions over in my mind as Vincent finished his story. Here is what I decided:
First, Moldova is stunningly frumos. The vista out the window of the bus that morning; the autumnal reds, browns, yellows; the smell of corn stalks and tall grass sifting through, playing in, rolling over the cool breeze – all of those things are a testament to the awesome beauty here.
But, what of Radu’s comparison to our country? He was correct: in America we can see similar panoramas. And, to be honest, the horizon in Moldova is, at times, scattered with artifacts of the Soviet era that belie the natural beauty: old factories, abandoned cars, trash. These things are not everywhere, but they are present. Yet, I still feel beauty here. Why?
The answer, to me, is simple. A place - a location - is relative. It is a human construction. Mother Nature never imagined Philadelphia – William Penn did. And so, when we describe a place as beautiful – let us always remember that people make places as much as places make people. Let us find beauty in the connection people have to the places they live, to the ways people live, to a people’s ability to inhabit their home, village, city, country.
This is Moldova’s beauty: The way men in villages seem to resemble, reflect, or project their dirt-stained hands onto their fields; the way extended families, friends, and neighbors work together every October to collect grapes and make wine; the way a frail, elderly woman carrying grain to sell at the market is able to balance herself standing on an overcrowded minibus that fights cracked roads over dozens of kilometers; the way girls in cities dress in chic European attire, but hold onto their unique histories through centuries-old wedding traditions.
Those are the things I think are frumos. This is how, everyday, I answer questions about Moldova’s beauty with conviction. We may have beautiful fields, hills, and forests in America. But, we have a very different relationship with our space. We lack the same earthly connection that the people here have to their country. And, although natural beauty can make a place special, the connection that people have with the place where they live is often more inspiring. This is why Moldova is frumos.